Disclamer: I don't own Narnia.
I wrote this originally for The Lions Call year to Caspian writing contest. Please read and reveiw!
Then sun had long past set, and the full moon shone down brightly. Lord Hanbar's horse trotted on slowly. He heard a rustle in the trees. He drew up the reins and listened. The horse stamped uneasily. Hanbar glanced around him, then urged the horse on. Any time now... he thought. Lord Hanbar was returning from the harbour, where he had seen off seven of his dearest friends. With Miraz as 'Lord Protector' one by one the lords had been picked out, starting with the dead king Caspian's closest friends. The seven lords which where now sailing on were amongst the last. Hanbar trotted on, his heart pounding. He was staying off the main roads as much as could be helped. In about twenty minutes he reached a small cottage. The lord also owned a manor, but this of course was where Miraz would look first. No smoke rose from the chimney, and no candle shone through the window. He dismounted and led the horse to a stable. Hanbar would usually have had grooms to do such things, but these were no usual times. He slipped inside and hastily drew all the heavy curtains before daring to light a candle on the small table. It was bitterly cold, but that couldn't be helped. A column of smoke would immediately disclose his location, he surmised. Hanbar set the candle on the table and turned about. His heart missed a beat, seeing a cloaked figure in the corner. He immediately drew his sword, its tip to the strangers throat. "Why are you hear?" Hanbar demanded, his voice near cracking. Though he felt he knew the answer. There was no response. He looked closer, and lowered his weapon. Nay, 'twas no man, but only a cloak hanging upon a hook in the wall. Now that Hanbar thought about it, he remembered hanging it there before he left. "I can't keep living like this..." He whispered to the darkness. He lit another candle in an attempt to remove as many shadows as possible. Hanbar slid back is hood. He was a tall young man with dark hair and a clean shaven face. The room had in it a small cot, an empty hearth, a table and chair, but little else. There were two trunks against the wall containing his belongings. Hanbar slumped into the chair, taking from his bag; bread, cheese and a little cold beef. "I have got to get out of here... Oh, but to where? Archenland? Caloremen? The Wild Lands of the North? Anywhere would be better then this..." He laid out a map before him on the table, placing aside his late supper. He examined different routes. Perhaps following the great river west and south to Archenland would be the most reasonable. Hanbar growled the words: "I am a lord of Narnia! I should be in no need of flight!" He laid his head in his hands. "But things are not always as they should be. I have to leave, I have to get out of here." He repeated softly. Hanbar silently finished his dinner, and collapsed into his cot.
Lord Hanbar woke to the chorus of bird's songs. The light took advantage of every gap among the curtains to brighten up the room. Hanbar rose, and ate some bread and honey. He began going through the two trunks to find what he would need most. Hanbar went to the window and swung back the curtains, flooding the room with light, and showing up the floating dust in the air. But doing so also flooded his heart with terror at the sight of five mounted guards galloping towards the cottage. "How did they find me?" Hanbar yanked the curtain closed, and looked with no avail for a way of escape. The cottage had a window and a door both facing the oncoming guards. 'If I ever get through this alive, I'm going to put in a back door,' he thought. There was no where to hide either, no choice but to face them head on. He stood a few yards from the door, his hand upon his sword, and his heart beating fast. There came three hard knocks on the door. Hanbar took a deep breath and strode forward and opened the it. The middle of the five had dismounted and knocked. Another, still mounted, pulled out a piece of parchment and began to read. "By order of Lord Protector of all Narnia, Miraz the Great, to Lord Hanbar: You are hereby invited to join him, Miraz, in a hunt tomorrow. We shall send an escort to this location at nine of the morning."
"Thank you, but I shall decline," stated Hanbar.
"Oh, but you must. It is the Lord Protector's wish. I should tell you he was worried when he did not find you at your residence. He wishes to know why you weren't there."
"I believe there is no law against a few days holiday," said Hanbar. The guard smiled, but it was no comforting smile. "Very well, we shall see you tomorrow at nine. Be ready." He handed Hanbar the parchment. By now the one that knocked had remounted, and the one with the message turned his horse around, and the others followed suit. The five stormed off. Even before they had vanished over the ridge Hanbar had shut the door and thrown the note into the cold hearth. "No more need for staying hidden here," He thought. Hanbar immediately dumped the contents of both trunks onto the floor, and packed what he needed most into a leather bag, along with the necessary food. Hanbar looked down at the remaining things on the floor. Going would mean leaving wealth. Wherever he went, he would no longer be highly esteemed, no crowd parting for him and his horse to pass, no more being the honoured guest. Hanbar paused to look at a ring set with diamonds bearing the lordly seal. "I shall remain until my last breath a lord of Narnia, whether that is soon or in the distant future, whether here, or some foreign land."