Disclaimer: I do not own The Chronicles of Narnia. If I did, then they would not be the classics they are today because I do not write nearly as well as C.S. Lewis. :)
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I urged my weary horse to fall in beside Peter's. I was tired of the quiet and Peter was always willing to lend an ear. Our guards closed the gap that I left behind, but I hardly noticed.
Peter looked as worn out as I felt. His blond head drooped towards his chest, though his blue continued to gaze ahead at the path we were traveling on.
"Makes you miss automatic transportation, doesn't it?" I remarked dryly.
He shot a startled glance at me. I guess he was more out of it than I first supposed. He grinned sheepishly at me. "Sorry, Su, but I think we're a long way away from automobiles. I don't much mind riding horses, but that might just be because my bum has gone decidedly numb."
I laughed. "How much farther do you think we have to go?"
"I'd say about a day, give or take. This is the last diplomatic mission that I'm going on for a long time. If foreign countries wish to trade or ally or whatever it is that countries do, they'll have to come to Narnia, because I'm, quite frankly, exhausted."
I shook my head. "I don't think that kind of attitude will serve Narnia very well."
"Can it serve her for a month so I can get some decent sleep?" He asked hopefully as he rolled his shoulders back in an attempt to get rid of the kinks in it.
I shrugged. "You're High King, you decide."
"Bother. I hate it when you use my title against me."
"But your title works just fine if you want your siblings to do something, right?" I cocked an eyebrow at him.
He just grinned.
Our horses slowed as we climbed up a steep incline. The land fell away from us on our left, plunging down into a steep ravine. To our right was a thick forest and between the two natural formations, our trial formed a crooked, narrow path.
The fauns guarding the front of our path merged together to fit on the path. They formed a line that was two fauns across and six fauns deep. Peter and I came behind them; followed by a bear, a leopard, and two centaurs.
We all quieted as we made our way through this narrow place, wary of enemies. But the trees to our right were quiet and nothing stirred on the cliff side to our left. Most of us had reached a place where the land began to level out and the trail broadened, when I heard a strange, squelching sound behind me.
I glanced back, just in time to see our two centaur guards fall to the ground, their throats cut by two hags that had landed on their backs.
I screamed. "Peter!"
But Peter and the guards were already alert and drawing weapons as minotaurs, were-wolves, hags, and dwarves descended on our party. I reached back to draw my bow out; but my horse stumbled, causing me to switch my hands back to the reins. To my dismay, I discovered four dwarves hacking away at my mount's legs.
I leapt off of my horse before they could do the same to me and drew out my long dagger, wishing that for once I had listened to Edmund's advice about learning how to use a sword. Because I wasn't prepared, I was virtually useless in close range battle.
My heart pounded as I stabbed one of the attacking dwarves before he could turn around. His companions quickly abandoned their work-although my horse was of no use to me now-to turn to me.
Dwarves are difficult to fight, especially without a long sword to keep them at bay. I clutched my dagger tightly. Aslan, protect me!
My prayers were answered as one of our faun guards leapt to my defense, plunging his sword into the back of one of the dwarves, and decapitating another one. I made short work of the last one, who's attention had wavered.
The moment of peace around me gave me time to un-sling my bow and ready an arrow. I turned to see what was going on around me. The carnage was horrible and our side was losing badly. Besides the deaths of our two centaurs, four of the fauns had been killed, as well as the leopard. Peter was still prevailing against his foes, but I knew if our guards died, we would soon follow.
One of the two remaining fauns screamed as a were-wolf leaped upon him.
Pfft. The arrow flew from my bow with deadly accuracy, striking the horrible man-wolf creature in the heart. Unfortunately, I didn't see the faun rise again. Panic began to take hold of my heart. I reached back with a trembling hand and pulled out another arrow. A hag was my next target and she fared no better than my last victim. Arrow after arrow I shot into the fray, but for every creature I killed, twice as many seemed to take its' place.
I glanced at Peter to assess his welfare. He was fending off attacks from two wolves and a minotaur and slowly being forced back to the cliff side. He slayed one of the wolves, but while his sword was still caught in the animal's fur, the minotaur reached over and grabbed him by the throat. Peter's face contorted as he was lifted off of the ground, his sword falling from his hand. The minotaur began to squeeze and my brother vainly tried to pull the hand away from his throat.
"Peter!" I came out of my shocked daze and sent an arrow into the back of his attacker's neck. The huge beast seemed to be little affected by the arrow and I shot another one into the same place. Still, he only stumbled.
Peter's struggles were rapidly becoming non-existent. His face took on a disturbing shade of blue.
"No!" We did not defeat the White Witch and restore Narnia for us to die in a little skirmish. I readied two arrows on my string, praying that this previously untried move would work.
I let them fly.
The minotaur let out a loud, terrible-sounding cry as my arrows pierced him. He finally released Peter, who fell to the ground coughing. His enemy teetered on the edge of the cliff, four arrows in his back, before he fell off of the ledge.
Peter looked back at me.
I smiled in relief.
He wasn't smiling back. His face twisted in an expression of fear that I had never seen on him before. "Susan, look out!"
Before I could turn around, I felt a sharp, burning pain in my side. It spread up my abdomen like fire, stealing my breath from me and taking away any cry I might have made.
I looked down, shocked to see a dagger protruding from my side. A greyish, furry hand clutched it. A long snout poked over my shoulder and a raspy voice sounded in my ear. "Long live the White Witch!"
And then he twisted his weapon.
Suddenly the voice I had lost came back to me as I screamed in pain that I have never experienced before. The dagger seemed to be ripping apart the inside of my body as blood poured out of my wound. My vision swam as the weapon was jerked out. My head rolled to the side.
I thought I heard someone calling my name, but all the noise around me faded away as a furry arm wrapped around my waist. I blinked dazedly at the form of my brother running towards me.
The arm around my waist tightened and I heard a hideous laugh. A moment later I was no longer being held captive, but hurtling through the air, heading right towards Peter.
Sheathing his sword, he stopped running, his arms held out to catch me. I hit him hard, pain sweeping through my side. He grunted and tightened his grip on me. He stumbled back a few paces, before letting out a surprised cry.
The last thing I remember was the sound of Peter's panicked gasps as we both tumbled off of the cliff.
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Thank you for reading. Happy New Year and God bless you all!
