Chapter One: Ambassadors And A Call To Arms

(In which Narnia received Ambassadors from Archenland, and the North grows restless.)

The great acts of war require to be undertaken by noblemen. –Victor Hugo

There was one place in the Cair that Tirian wanted to be in: the Stables. In fact he wanted to be on his horse, riding about in the meadows outside the city walls, with nothing but the wind and the thumping of Liam's hoofs for company.

Unfortunately, it was not where he was. He was standing in the Corridor of Tapestries, beneath the huge drapery depicting High King Peter kneeling before the mighty Aslan as he was knighted into the Order of the Lion. Tirian glared at the tapestry, wondering if when the high king was his age, did he forget where he was supposed to be? Because Tirian could not remember if he was supposed to be in the court with his father, or in the hall, greeting the guests with his mother. They had both been telling him all week about the three Ambassadors of Archenland who were coming, bringing with them their spouses and children, who would be living in King Erlian's own palace of Cair Paravel. The families, Tirian thought gloomily, would be taking up space in the palace, and forcing him to be on his best behaviour at all times.

Tirian wondered what Ambassadors would look like, but all he could picture were the colourful merchants from the harbour. They were the only humans he could remember seeing. "Father should have some of them join the court," he smiled, as he spoke to the King Peter kneeling before Alsan.

"My prince! Where have you been? Your mother has been searching for you!" The ancient voice of Dorian, Tirian's tutor spoke from behind him. "You are, at times, my prince, more trouble than your seven years are worth. You are to be in the hall, first welcoming the guests, then to join the king your father in court, there are lessons to be learned there, as you are to be king some day. You do recall that, do you not?" A small smile at the boy, then a hand on his shoulder. "Prince, truly, you must hurry." But even though Master Dorian urged him to hurry, Tirian walked only as fast as his Master, and that wasn't fast at all.

When at last they arrived at the great hall of the Cair, Master Dorian was saying how they'd most like missed all the guests already. Tirian merely smiled, thinking about when his next horse-riding lesson was, and whether his father would be there to watch again.

"Son! Where've you been, little prince? You had me worried!" Queen Rose kissed his dusty blonde hair, and straitened his clothes as she spoke. "You ought not to run off where no one can find you, son. You've missed meeting most of our guests, but Duke Ayden and Duchess Brianna have yet to come. Their caravan has been delayed, but they've been sighted outside the city. Before you ask, son, the others have retired to their chambers, to freshen up afore the feast. Oh! By the Lions Mane, I can't recall if I have told Cook not to add cinnamon to any dishes—one of our guests has a dreadful allergy to it." Rose looked at her young son, contemplating sending him to the kitchen to be certain, thought better of it, and called to one of her ladies in waiting. The young faun, Nymira, who ran off was a younger sister to the General Girbius II, and often a playmate of Tirian's.

When Nymira returned, Queen Rose was still giving Tirian orders, and requesting her maids and guards last minute things. The Great Hall was alive with true Narnian spirit—brightly colours tapestries decorated the walls, but did nothing to diminish the clear sun that shone through opened windows, and the gentle breeze that filtered down was filled with scents and sounds of summer. The tall dryads, the fauns, the she-wolf and the dwarves going about their business made Rose remember how much everyone was looking forward to the Summer Solstice Feast tonight. It was always a Narnian affair—no banquet tables, no cutlery, no worries—held outside in one of the Cair's gardens, the feast would be spread out on the lawn, and everyone was invited. The wine would flow, the music would play, and the dance and the feast would go on. Often, morning came too soon, and there were still fauns playing on, naiads, dryads, hamadryads, sprites and pixies dancing on the grass, barefoot and joyful, and dwarves still drinking, telling jokes that she would like to keep from Tirian's ears for another few years.

Rose smiled inwardly when she realized that the Archenlanders who had arrived and were still arriving did not know this. Feasts, in Archenland, did not include what a true Narnian feast included. Rose was not saying that she did not enjoy their feasts, but they were more dignified affairs, like many feasts held in the Cair throughout the rest of the year. Tables, cutlery, and manners were involved. It would be interesting to see how they would react. No doubt in grace and dignity, and with all the right words…

The herald, an aging owl hooted and called out in a strong voice:

"Presenting his lordship, Duke of Archenland, friend of Narnia, Ayden, his lady-wife, Brianna, their son, Camlin, and their daughter, Deidre."

Queen Rose smiled, and kissed Lord Ayden on both cheeks, embraced lady Brianna, and murmured the appropriate things to Camlin and Deidre. The two children possibly only a year or two older than Tirian, but presumed to act more maturely. The three could not be more different. Camlin and Deidre smiled and said polite things, but the first words out of Tirian's mouth naturally were: "Do you ride?" and after that, Deidre looked at him in a condescending manner that Tirian missed, while Camlin seemed to pretend at being busy examining his sword hilt. Rose wondered, as she spoke to the lord and lady, what these two might have against riding.

"I must beg, majesty, for your leave to be off to our chambers. We've had a trying journey, with news of giants leaving their realms and coming into Narnia. My mind will be at ease after a bath. Although you might think me a touch too lady like, seeing as how you could likely go travelling and without a bath for weeks!" Brianna smiled beautifully, her eyes lighting up and a dimple showing. Rose returned a smile that was less beautiful and more polite, knowing that Brianna's words, although said complimentarily, was not meant in such a way. Rose saw it for what it was: a snub on her low birth. It was likely that she was being scrutinized for flaws that showed how she was only a queen because king Erlian had fallen in love with the wrong woman.

Perhaps I'm jumping to conclusions, Rose thought. But the Queen knew that Erlian's wife-to-be had been some relative of the House of Aiken, and every single time she was in noble-born company, the ladies seemed to delight in stating how she could probably go for weeks without washing/ride abreast instead of side-saddle/fight alongside the men in a war/do something that ladies with titles generally didn't do. Rose lived for the stories of the old times, the legends of Queen Lucy, who rode into battle with her brothers, Queen Aravis who crossed the desert with King Cor and would fight alongside him if necessary, of so many other brave, noble, wonderful Narnian women who had always done unladylike things in the most ladylike manner possible, and managed to make a room full of lady Brianna's ego bristle with envy.

Rose motioned to Zyrphilla, a beech tree dryad guard, stationed at one of the many doors leaving the great hall, and a she-wolf who was already close to the Queen. "Lana, you and Zyrphilla show our guests to their rooms. Be sure they have everything they need. Have hot water brought up for them to bathe. My thanks, ladies," Rose said, smiling warmly. She knew that simply sending one of her Ladies would suffice, and Lana and Zyrphilla's presence, as guards could be seen as a slight, but she didn't care. That woman could be slighted if she wished. Rose knew she'd hear of it from Erlian later, but at the moment, it felt good. It felt most un-queenly, and most Rose-the-milking-girl-esque.

When the guests were gone, with their own people carrying their trunks after them, there was a moment of silence in the hall.

"I don't think I like them, mother," Tirian said loudly.

"Young prince, it is not couth of you to say this of your guests," Master Dorian said, reminding everyone of his presence.

"Yes, but Master Dorian, when a lad speaks truth, who are we to hush him?" Rose said sadly, but then she smiled, and Tirian was no longer worried. He hugged his mother, grinning at his tutor, and began to talk about the feast. After all, there were two other families to meet yet. There was bound to be someone who loved riding.

By the time Tirian had been introduced to everyone, court with his father was over, the feast was just beginning, and it was past midnight. Tirian had decided he liked the new servants more than the nobles who came in their pomp and glory. He had said as much to Camlin when the boy told Tirian he did not think horses were very nice, or very hygienic (which caused some irritation from a Mare within earshot, but that's another story). But that was not the issue at hand.

"But I'm not tired!" he protested, yawning as his mother laughingly dragged him out of the courtyard where the feast was being held. Fauns and Satyrs played their instruments yet, and would continue 'til the night turned grey and the sun began to rise. But the young prince had to sleep, for not even he—especially not he—was allowed to miss seven o'clock sword practice. Perhaps she could talk Girbius into allowing the prince another hour of sleep.

"Mother, honestly, I'm not!"

"Oh, yes you are, my sweet!" Pulling his doublet and shirt off, she tickled him, and he collapsed on the bed, shrieking, still saying how he wasn't tired, not one bit.

"My lady queen?"

"Zyrphilla!" More surprised than anything that the dryad guard would be up in the tower levels, Rose sat up, worry taking over.

"His majesty the king wishes an audience with you, queen."

Rose looked questioningly at the guard, but Zyrphilla's eyes were in the shadow, and Rose did not think she would be able to tell what the dryad was hiding, even if they weren't. Erlian knew she was taking Tirian to bed. Why not come himself? Unless... "I will be with you shortly." She looked at her son, lying on the bed, and she could see the question in his eyes. "Love, my sweet, I need to go. Your father needs to talk to me. No, hush, you must be sleeping already, you may not come with me. You'll see him tomorrow, but now you must sleep." She stood, turning to Nymira and Lana who had accompanied her from the feast. "Stay with the prince, ladies, and I shall call you if I need you this night." Morning, she reminded herself. Kissing Tirian on the forehead, she motioned for Zyrphilla to walk with her.

"He's leaving?" she asked once the oak doors were shut behind them.

"My queen, it is not my place—"

"To say, I know." Rose sighed, and brushed her dark locks from her face. Tirian had Erlian's gold hair and sea coloured eyes. He would be a great king, she knew it, even though some malicious courtiers could find ways to belittle him because of her lack of nobility.

"My lady, I will leave you here," Zyrphilla was saying; they had arrived at the king's chambers. Rose pushed open one of the doors, and closed it again behind her, shutting out Zyrphilla, Tirian, and the Cair.

"Erlian," she said softly, to his hunched figure that sat on the edge of the bed, head in his hands. "You're leaving?"

He didn't answer for a long time, and when he spoke, it was simply to say "Come here," and hold his one hand out to her, not even looking at her. She took his hand in hers, and knelt beside him.

"Why didn't you tell me?" She murmured, brushing his hair back, touching his face, and realizing it was wet with tears. "Erlian, speak to my, my love," Rose said, and kissed his cheek gently. He was a strong man, and to see him so distressed her more than she let show. She knew him, and she knew that only the gravest of wrongs and the greatest of sorrows—his people's sorrows—could leave him looking so vulnerable. Erlian was a passionate king, who loved Narnia with all his heart. Rose knew he did little for himself, and all he could for his land.

"Rose," he said.

"I'm here, my love," she stared into his eyes, as if looking at him could make him tell her everything that was troubling him. "Tell me why you're crying, Erlian."

"Giants, Rose, they've finally crossed into Narnian lands. Rumours were confirmed. The ambassadors were not the only ones to arrive today. Hrag and his unit returned from the north. The reports they bring back are grim. Small towns and villages are plundered and put to the torch, the women raped, the men murdered, oh, Rose," he said, holding her close, already sorry for what he'd said, knowing he should have spared her some details...

"Erlian."

"I leave in two days time with four score soldiers. It's all we can spare at this time. We're too far spread, too many attacks and raids are happening at once. If more soldiers were still here, I could take more, but I will not leave the castle undefended. Perhaps we can negotiate with the giants. If not, if all we can do is push the giants back to their own territory, then perhaps we'll have some peace."

"Erlian."

"I will not stand by as my people are tormented by these monsters! I cannot! I swore an oath to protect the people of Narnia, and how am I doing it? I sit in my castle, and feast, and welcome guests, make small talk and do nothing of consequence. Oh, how I miss the days when battle was all we did, we breathed, we spoke, for we lived battle. Now, I sit in a stone chair, and give commands, and send worthy men and beasts, friends of mine, to die in my stead. I have reached three and thirty years, yet it seems I am an ancient king, ruling from a throne and too afraid to leave his keep. I ride with my men in two days time. I ride with them to retrieve the dead and beat these monsters back to their evil borders!"

"Erlian—"

"I will not be spoken out of it, woman!" he shouted, pushing her hands aside, and standing to his full height. "I will not!"

"Erlian!" It was only Rose who would dare raise her voice to the king. She stayed at his feet, looking up at him, but her voice was strong as she spoke. "You do protect your people. You swore an oath to do so, and I fail to see how you have neglected that task. Aslan appointed you this, and you have been faithful in your stewardship. You are a worthy leader, a noble king, and a loving husband and father. Yes, perhaps you must go to war against the giants, but forget not, that even back unto High King Peter and his siblings' reign, there were the northern giants to be fought. They pillage and plunder, murder and burn, and it seems there are always more of them than we can handle! But you do not despair—you must not despair! For you are king, and when hope leaves the king, it truly leaves the land." She held his hands, breathing heavily, her pale green silk gown crumpled beneath her. Rose blinked, thinking of the things that must torment him so to make him leave so soon. Erlian sat beside her, reminded of the fact that he had not seen her worked up like this since when she had told him she was with child. Rose was a gentle and soft woman most of the time. When she raised her voice, it was because there was nothing else that would work.

"I love you," she said, "And you will do what you must as king, knowing I support you. But you will not despair."

Erlian kissed his wife then, as he had on their wedding night and so many nights after.