I've started this again, because I didn't like where it was heading!

Declaimer: I do not own The Chronicles of Narnia, it belongs to the wonderful C.S Lewis.

If you liked it, I would really appreciate a review! Tell me if it's worth continuing; I have a lot planned. :)

Long live Aslan!

ZanderXX

Knight in shining armor

Preface

"A journey of a thousand miles must begin with a single step." -Unknown

His heart was pounding as his breath burned his lungs. His powerful horse galloped at full speed towards a dark rise in the night, moonlight casting a serene silver glow over the landscape. Bushes and sparse trees blew past as the horse and rider ran for their lives to escape the eight men following them. While the riders were to merely catch their quarry, their master was out for blood, and the young man knew that they would not stop until their master had the blood he was so hungry for.

Shaking his sweaty hair out of his face the young man looked back, seeing the gap between him and his pursuers widen. They were shaking their fists and yelling, but all the young man heard was his name whispered on the breeze,

"Prince Sebastian!"

Sebastian did not give the men the satisfaction of slowing. Instead he dug his heels into Boisterous's sides, spurring the stallion into plunging into the dark forest, seeking refuge from Father's men. He was bent low over his horse's neck to avoid branches and streamline his profile. Behind him he heard the men chasing him as they bullied their way into the trees, being cursed at by their leader for letting him get further away. Even though his live was in near danger, Sebastian could not help thinking of his friends and sister, who had parted ways and certainly continued to be persecuted if they had not been captured already.

"Deeper Boisterous," Sebastian urged his horse. "We must go further in if we are to get away."

Loosening his control on the reigns the young man let the horse have his head, trusting his mount to navigate the dark. He had always known that the purebred stallion could see better in the night that he could. Actually, his horse seemed to be much more intelligent than any of the horses in his father's stables. Feathered hooves pounding the earth, the beast continued on.

All through the night the two were chased, never quite eluding the men. Sebastian lost all sense of direction as Boisterous ran, simply holding on and praying that they would get away with their lives. He could see glimpses of dawn through the trees as his horse began to tire. The sickening sound of a crossbow bolt hitting a branch near his head startled Sebastian so much that he jerked on the reigns, causing Boisterous to rear up and unseat him.

Barely catching his breath the young prince was up, sword in hand. The men charged into the small clearing, crossbows and swords pointed at him. Sebastian knew that he was outnumbered and outmatched, all eight men being seasoned Arelianes warriors. Their leader was the army general, Moghrien, the second most feared man in Arelian after Sebastian's father, King Alestor.

"Give up, my Prince," Moghrien spoke harshly. "There is no way you can defeat us. Come back peacefully and King Alestor may spare your life."

"Never," Sebastian spat at him, furious. "My father has no right to sit on the throne, and I will not rest until I get it back to the genuinely worthy members of my family."

"Why, you insolent-"

Sebastian, a moment before attacking and fighting for his life, felt a strange heat coming from the handle of his sword and saw a thin light shining off the blade. He had no time to react or stop and think if the sun had caused this, as shouts of 'No!' could barely be heard over the beautiful and decentralizing weapon. Sebastian briefly saw his father's men preparing to fire at him when with a jolt of pain the world went black.

The Valiant Queen mounted her horse with grace, as she did on sunrise once in a while to venture into the forest and explore the now yellow-foliaged trees since fall had arrived. Peter, though it had been seven years since the coronation of the Pevensies and Lucy was quite capable of take care of herself, always ordered a group of guards to look after her while she got inside the dense green surrounding Cair Paravel. The Queen did not mind, as Peter had at all times been overprotective when it came to his little sister.

Though she was not a small one anymore; over the years, Queen Lucy had grown into a beautiful young woman, just like Susan had done at her time. Princes of the countries beyond the sea began to send ambassadors to acknowledge her of their desire for her to become their Queen. Her people looked upon her for council, and she heeded every creature that came to her asking for a helpful hand. She was a warrior too; although The High King did not like the fact that Lucy battled against dreadful odds along her royal siblings, The Valiant Queen would always carry her daggers and bow, and her cordial into the battlefield.

After all, the Kings and Queen's coronation had not been followed promptly by peace; at first much of their time was spent in seeking out the remnants of the White Witch's army and destroying them, and indeed for a long time there would be news of evil things lurking in the wilder parts of the forest - a haunting here and a killing there, a glimpse of a werewolf one month and a rumor of a hag the next. But in the end, all that foul brood was stamped out. And they made good laws and kept the peace over Narnia.

It had been a long time since the last reported disturbance, in fact.

Unpleasant and cold, the morning fog set upon the quiet stables, while the Queen and her guards burst out of the wide horse shelter. It was not the most beautiful morning to go riding, but that did not stop Lucy, who continued to lead their path into the woods, her crimson cloak swinging freely behind her and brushing the stallion's back from time to time. On their way, came the voices of the mermen and the mermaids swimming close to the shore and singing, and Lucy joined, her beautiful voice matching the sea people's melodies and blowing with the soft wind like a whisper through the trees.

"Let our horses rest," ordered Lucy, when they no longer heard the singing coming from the shore, and eased the pace. "There is a river nearby, and our friends should take an earned pause from the long ride." The guards dismounted their horses and marched toward the river, one of the men taking the reins of the Queen's stallion.

"Where shall we head after, Your Majesty?" the captain asked.

"Wherever the wind blow us, Captain Velenter," answered Lucy looking at her quiet surroundings.

She did not follow a direction in these sudden departures, indeed; in truth, nobody really understood her motives (perhaps Mr. Tumnus suspected something), but Lucy rode from time to time into the woods hoping to find Aslan, somewhere waiting for her. "He'll be coming and going," Mr. Tumnus had said once. "One day you'll see him and another you won't. He doesn't like being tied down and of course he has other countries to attend to. It's quite all right. He'll often drop in. Only you mustn't press him. He's wild, you know. Not like a tame lion."

But a good one, Lucy thought to herself as the memory was drifted away from her head when a sudden noise was heard from the other side of the river, behind a small number of trees. It sounded like a cry, a desperate cry for help. The Queen saw a few birds shot out from the branches and away into the sky.

"Stay back, Your Highness," said the captain, interposing his body in front of Lucy to protect her from whatever was awaiting at the other side of the water. There was movement in the bushes, and Lucy's heartbeat raced hopefully, her breath caught in her throat, while the men drew their swords cautiously. But what came out from the bushes was not the Great Lion in all his magnificence; it was a cloaked figure that could not be distinguished through the fog, and that fell to the ground with a silent gasp and stayed still.

"He or she could be unconscious, Captain Velenter," exclaimed Lucy, voice filled with concern. "Get us to the other side to assist them; my cordial might be of utmost importance."

Captain Velenter nodded and ordered his men to climb into their horses yet again. Once the Queen was firmly holding the reins of her own stallion, they quickly crossed the river, the bottom of her dress getting soaked in the process. When they reached the other side of the water, she was off of her stallion in a quick movement and hurried to the body's side. She flipped it upwards while her guards got closer to ensure her safety in case it was some kind of trap.

But it was not a trap, certainly. Beneath the cloak, Lucy found a young man surely a few years older than her, his eyes closed and handsome features and short hair splattered with blood, as his breath became erratic and his skin pale; the bright red contrasted sharply with the strange white color of his hair. The robe he wore was covered with blood under his chest, at the height of his stomach, and Lucy noticed mumbling coming from his mouth. Beside him, beneath his still hand, rested this extraordinary sword, which was quickly taken and revised by the captain.

The Queen took the cordial from her red leather belt and did not hesitated on pouring one single drop into his parted lips.