A/N: I am grateful to C.S. Lewis, without whose works on Narnia this story would not be possible.
The Fords of Beruna
And now you probably want to know what had been happening to Peter and Edmund and the Beavers and all the rest. Well before dawn, the camp was astir. ("Dawn is when your danger will be greatest," Aslan had said to Peter during the march the day before.)
The disappearance of Aslan was a sore blow to everyone's spirits, but no one could say that it had been completely unexpected, given his behavior the day before. "After all, he's not a tame lion," was the general mood after the first shock had worn off.
But more immediately puzzling than this, especially to Peter and Edmund, was the fact that Susan and Lucy were gone as well.
"Great Scott, Peter," exclaimed Edmund. "You don't suppose they could have gone off with Aslan somewhere?"
"We shan't know until we have asked those who were on duty last night," Peter replied with resignation as he slung his sword belt over his shoulder. Soon he and Edmund were approaching the Chief of the Sentries, a tough, serious-looking Black Dwarf.
"Good morning, gentlemen," the Dwarf greeted them with a slight bow of his head.
"Good morning," Peter and Edmund replied together.
"I don't suppose you have any news of our sisters?" Edmund asked.
"I was just going to tell your Honours that," replied the Dwarf. "It must have been nearly midnight when the roving sentry at the time woke me to say that Aslan had left the camp, and that the two Daughters of Eve had followed after him. They went in the direction of the Stone Table. It seemed to me that it was an arrangement of Aslan's, so I didn't wish to wake you young gentlemen, especially seeing as you would need all your rest before today's work and all. I'm sure I'm very sorry if I've done wrong."
"No, I guess it can't be helped," sighed Peter. "Nothing unusual during the night besides that, though?"
"No sir, nothing worth talking of," said the Dwarf. "We would have woken you, otherwise."
"Very well," said Peter. "Send word to the Chief Centaur to assemble the captains at the pavilion. Also, we shall break camp soon and cross the Fords to the far side."
The Dwarf left, and Peter stared for a moment out over the camp, full of creatures taking a hasty morsel or readying themselves for movement.
"Well, Ed, it looks as if we shall be on our own today," said Peter. "But I do wish Aslan and the girls were all here. In the meantime, though, we must do what we can on our own."
"Whatever you think is best, Peter," said Edmund steadily. "Wherever Aslan went, the girls will be safer there with him than we will be here shortly when she comes."
The two boys took a moment to inspect one another's gear and weapons as well as they could by the light of the bright moon. Peter bore his Gifts, and Edmund had a stout sword and a round shield that the Chief of the Sentries had lent him. Each boy had been outfitted the evening before with a padded gambeson jacket, a close-fitting leather cap, a waterskin, and a satchel for various small items.
When this was done, the boys strode to the pavilion, where the chiefs of the various creatures, as well as the Beavers, awaited them around a wooden table.
Naturally the expressions on everyone's faces were sombre, not only because of the disappearance of Aslan and the girls, but also because of the deadly grim business before them. The Chief Centaur spoke first.
"Sons of Adam! Sir Peter Wolfsbane, Knight of the Most Noble Order of the Lion, and Master Edmund his brother, hear me! Aslan is gone from among us, and so our hope is lessened. But if I have not lost the foresight that is the gift of my people, then I will say this for your comfort:
Though woe and loss shall come,
When evil shows its power,
He will return at last,
Though we know not the hour."
"Then we must win that time for Him," said Peter with more stoutness than he felt.
"That's the spirit, Sir!" exclaimed one of Aslan's Leopards.
The Chief Centaur then said, "Master Edmund, having lately been an unwilling travelling companion of the Witch, can you provide any information which may prove useful to us in the battle ahead?"
Edmund thought uncertainly for a moment. Finally he spoke. "Her wand can turn multiple victims to stone at once, but I think it's only if they're touching one another. So, it might be a jolly good idea to take care that we don't get any closer than arm's length when she's near. Also, she may try to take my brother or me alive if she can."
"Never," said the Captains firmly together.
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This was the plan that they made: after they had broken camp (which was in fact already in progress, and proceeding quickly) and crossed to the far side, they would set up a defensive line facing southward across the Fords, where the fairly narrow crossing would help to offset the Witch's advantage in numbers. ("And unless the Witch has boats of which we know nothing, she must cross here, whether she intends to retreat to her house or else to bring us to battle immediately, since the nearest ford westward of here lies many miles beyond her house," put in the Chief Centaur.)
Birds would be posted in the trees commanding the southern approaches to give advance warning of the enemy, and some of the Great Cats would be left lying in wait to harass the Witch's vanguard. Other birds would be tasked with watching to the north and west ("since we daren't assume that the Witch's whole force is with her," said the Chief Eagle).
But arrayed squarely behind the Ford itself would be Peter's main strength, consisting of a line of Fauns and Satyrs with spears and javelins in the centre, a group of Dwarf archers on each flank, and Talking Beasts such as Dogs, Bears, and Badgers in close support. Peter himself, along with the Chief Dwarfs, Aslan's Leopards, and the Bull with Man's Head (who was trying to convince the Leopards to let him carry the standard during the battle) would take up a position in the centre of the line.
It was the Chief of the Sentries who had the bright idea that they should hammer a series of sharpened stakes from the camp baggage into the ground in front of Peter's line, pointing at the direction of expected attack from across the Fords. "That way, you'll increase the number of unpleasant points confronting the enemy, and also it'll help disperse our troops a bit."
"And there's this too, your Honours," said the Chief Archer, an older Red Dwarf. "You'll want to keep a part of the army, maybe a third, in reserve, to either reinforce the main body, or else to act as a maneuver force, as needed. It should be made up of some of the swifter and fiercer creatures. I recommend leaving Master Edmund this responsibility. It wouldn't do to expose him to the full brunt of the Witch's hatred on the front line."
"No, it wouldn't," said Peter. With a sinking heart, Edmund nodded wordlessly.
It was decided that care for the wounded ("which I'd quite forgotten about," said Peter) would fall to the Master of Medicines (a grave middle-aged Faun) and Mrs. Beaver. The Dryads and Naiads would help with the ministrations, and several Fauns would be charged with transporting the badly hurt to the rear. Swift birds such as Falcons and Swallows would be employed as messengers, the Ravens would patrol the wood, and the Pelicans would be hid in the vegetation along the banks.
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When all was said and done, dawn finally broke in the sky to reveal Peter's forces (those in the open, at any rate) in their proper positions. Peter drew a deep breath to try to calm his thumping heart, and thought to himself that being responsible for others sometimes helped to take one's mind off of one's own difficulties. He looked to the right, and could barely contain a smile of amusement at the sight of Mr. Beaver making small circles in the air with his hatchet and trying to look very fierce indeed. Then a Robin flew up and landed on the rim of Peter's shield.
"Sir Peter!" he chirped in his thin, melodious voice. "They are coming!"
"How many?" Peter asked.
"More than we," replied the Bird. "There is no sign of the Witch yet."
"Sir Peter, now might be the time for your people to hear a good word from you," observed one of the Dwarf Chiefs.
"Of course," said Peter. He stepped out in front of the host and turned to face them. "Narnians, hear me!" he exclaimed. "I will not attempt to conceal from you that I feel utterly unworthy of the readiness and affection with which you have received me and mine as though we we had not but lately made your acquaintance, being but travellers from a distant shore called to stand forth on behalf of this noble land in its hour of need. Yet my good brother and I will count ourselves fortunate to fight alongside you all this day, if by so doing we can be accounted, not only by the ancient customs and usages of the Royal House of Narnia, but also by the goodwill and approbation of its steadfast and loyal citizens, as worthy of the sacred duty that Aslan, Lord of Narnia, and Son of the Emperor beyond the Sea, has seen fit to soon entrust to us and to our well-beloved sisters. Let tyrants fear! Should we win this day, as I am confident we shall, by the blessings of the Lion (whose ways and whose counsels who can know?), shall there not be a rebirth of Truth, Justice, and Mercy across the land? Aslan to our aid!"
With that he drew forth his sword Rhindon and held it aloft, shining in the rays of light now pouring forth from the East. And the whole host, in all their voices and ways, shouted forth in answer, "Aslan to our aid!" And the standard of the King, red rampant Lion set in a circle of argent upon a field of blue, broke forth rippling in the golden dawn to greet the Sun.
A few moments later, it was time to be thinking of other things. From the woods south of the Ford came peculiar roars, screeches, and bellows, and Peter knew that his hidden Cats and predatory Birds had struck. But he knew that it would only be a brief check on the Witch's advance, and in any case, he had given his Cats and Birds orders to withdraw as soon as possible after the first stroke, before they found themselves overmastered.
He had not long to wait. Soon he could see his creatures (some bleeding and halt of foot or wing) withdrawing in bounds as they made their way back across the water, where the Pelicans now emerged to cover the retreat with their formidable wings and bills brandished at the hideous things who now emerged within full view of Peter's waiting army.
While Peter's forward forces made good their escape, the Witch's forces congregated a short distance from the water's edge. They were indeed a great multitude, and Peter could not help thinking that the old stories he had read of Minotaurs and Ogres might be true after all, in Narnia at any rate. But he was not allowed to go on thinking, for at that moment a channel began to open up in the crowd of horrible creatures. A tall and stately figure, clad all in white and silver, and wearing a crown of steel, strode forth with solemnity and dignity, and yet with power and menace. It was the Witch.
She advanced until she was within a pace or two of the water's edge, and there she halted. She did not yet raise her wand, but held it couched at her side. Her host spilled out behind and to the left and right of her. For a moment she regarded the array confronting her with cold disdain, and then at last she spoke, in a clear, ringing voice of challenge and command.
"Human vermin! Your doom has come upon you! Where is now your Great Cat?"
Of course everyone knew she meant Aslan, but no one spoke.
"I have slain him!" the Witch continued. "The fool! He set upon me by night, treacherous beast that he was, but I had the mastery! I slew him upon the Stone Table!"
A low murmur of dismay ran through the army of Peter. But the Chief Archer smiled grimly. "It's a lie, Sir," he said calmly to Peter. "A favourite trick of these Witches. Don't pay her any heed."
But Peter knew that many in the host were looking to him for a word or sign, and even though it was not likely that many of them believed the Witch, the sight of their commander losing heart might well be disastrous for the army.
And so Sir Peter Wolfsbane, Knight of the Most Noble Order of the Lion, answered forth, and it seemed to him that the words came unbidden to his lips: "How say you that he is slain? Though your power be great, and the reach of your malice be not short, even the Birds of the Air are not all idle or blind. They see much. Think you not that they would have brought us tidings, had you of a truth done this foul deed? Deceive us not with the imaginations of despair and darkness! Our Lord, the King of the Wood, is gone whither we not know not, but he is not a mere man or beast, that we should hold him accountable for his doings. Now, by the Great Song that Aslan sang into this fair land in the Deeps of Time, we shall not treat with you, nor with any other servant of Evil. Begone now, for I tell you that your reign is at an end, and your doom is at hand."
"Well said, Sir!" said the Bull with Man's Head, and many of Peter's army cheered.
But the Witch was filled with anger, and turning back to her creatures, she cried, "Silence them! Slay me the fools and traitors, but take the human creatures alive. They shall pay dearly for their impudence this day."
With that she let blow the brazen horns of her host, and hurled forward a great mass of her chief warriors across the stream. Overhead a storm of bats and vultures descended from the skies towards Peter's line, but they were met by a flurry of Eagles and other Birds of prey, even as the Dwarf archers nocked their arrows.
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When Edmund (who, if you remember, was still standing in reserve with the Centaurs, Unicorns, Deer, and other swift creatures) heard the Witch's declarations, he was seized to the heart with despair, and for the taking of breath he was at a loss. But when he heard Peter's defiant words, he took heart again, thinking that perhaps all hope was not yet gone, not if he and the others could do anything about it. Accordingly, he loosened his sword in its sheath and gave his leather cap a brief tug. The Chief Centaur looked down at him and put a firm yet gentle hand upon his shoulder.
"Courage, Master Edmund," said the noble creature. "We are all of us between the paws of the Lion, and we shall take the adventure that he sees fit to send us this day."
A/N: Peter is addressed as "Sir" by members of the army because he is a Knight, but Edmund is called "Master" (alternatively "mister") because he has not yet been knighted.
The giving of pre-battle speeches is a feature not only of Tolkien's and Lewis's stories, but also of classical Greco-Roman and medieval European literature.