"If you want to talk to him, at least take the stairs, you're not as agile as he is." Susan could feel the blush heating up her face.
"And what makes you think I want to talk to him?" Peter glanced at his sister, knowing her well enough to keep his thoughts to himself. Instead, he simply shrugged and walked inside.
OOOO
Two weeks later
Susan was taking her usual morning walk through the gardens, a habit that she had been forced to put on hold due to the number of foreign and domestic suitors seeking her hand. As a result she had grown rather short-tempered with everyone, but now that she was back in the gardens she could feel her tension melting away. As she walked she began to hear some very strange sounds. The padding of bare feet in the dirt. The sound of a blade slicing through air. The grunts of a man under heavy strain. As she neared the area they came from the sounds stopped. She could hear the rustle of cloth as it moved, then the shifting of soft leather. She heard nothing after that, and when she rounded the corner, there was nothing to indicated that anyone had been there. She puzzled over the occurrence for a moment before making up her mind. She would return the next morning even earlier to find out who was in the gardens at an hour when her brothers were still groggy.
OOOO
The next morning
True to her decision, Susan was in the gardens even earlier than the previous day. As she walked through the gardens she listened intently for the sounds she had heard, and sure enough, they were there. She followed them and soon came to the same part of the gardens she had been the last morning. Peeking around the corner she saw a figure moving through the clearing at a pace that seemed breakneck to her. It wasn't until the figure stopped that she recognized him.
"What is that ranger Braden doing out here?" she watched as he set down the bow he had been carrying and noticed for the first time the arrows that were stuck in various knots in the trees. Her eyes widened when she realized that he had been moving for every shot. She watched even more carefully as he picked up a strange sword. About the same length as Peter's Rhindon, it was much thinner, and sharpened on only one side. The blade was curved slightly, still straight enough for a deadly thrust, but perfect for fast slashing attacks. Susan watched in awe as Braden began to move into a series of cuts, thrusts, and ripostes that left her head spinning. She forced herself to focus on him to try to see what he was doing. He was obviously performing some sort of mock combat. His blade left the vicinity of his body only to strike, and always seemed to weave an impenetrable web around him. She was beginning to admire the way his arms rippled with power when he stopped and looked straight at her.
"I don't mind if you watch, majesty. However I would prefer if you were somewhere more visible." Susan stepped out from behind the tree, ashamed at having been caught. Braden held out his hand to her, offering to lead her to a safe place to sit and watch. Susan took the offer and allowed herself to be led to the bench next to the wall, not failing to notice that he wore no shirt. He turned away from her, revealing a back covered in muscle. In the predawn light his skin looked bronze, and the sweat from his exercises made it seem almost as if he was glowing. She watched as he resumed his movements around the glade. When he finally stopped she could only stare. The body that had seemed bronze in the sunrise, now had streaks of pale skin slashing across it in all directions. Her gasp caught his attention only as a glance over his shoulder. He stepped over to the bench and picked up his shirt, putting it on leisurely. Susan continued to stare at him in horror. She had seen battlefield wounds before, and many scars. But never so many on one person.
"So many." she whispered. Braden looked at her. "And most of them in places that should have been fatal." Braden finished putting on his shirt and slipped his feet into his boots. Susan looked at him as he pulled his cloak around his shoulders. "How did you survive so many wounds?" He raised his eyes to the apple blossoms in the garden.
"I was lucky." With that he flipped his hood up and picked up his bow. Susan could only watch as he walked away.
OOOO
A few weeks later
Susan watched as Braden moved around the glade, his body glistening with sweat. It had become her habit to watch him every morning, and she had not yet missed a day. After he finished they would often sit and talk while he ate his breakfast of dried meat and fruit. She often asked about his scars, but never received a direct answer. As she sat there she thought about the recent happenings in the castle. Anna had truly found her place among her maids, and Peter had taken to visiting every once in a while to make sure she was comfortable. She giggled as she recalled Peter's behavior. It was so easy to tell that he was captivated by the girl.
"Find something amusing?" Susan jumped at the sound of her brothers voice in her ear. Edmund chuckled as he sat down on the bench. As he shifted slightly Susan noticed that he wore no shirt, and that his body was covered in sweat.
"You've been training with Peter again haven't you?" Edmund shook his head.
"No, Peter and I have been sparring with Braden every few days. It gives us a new perspective, since he knows the sword styles of most of the nations." Susan stared at him for a moment before turning to Braden, who was striding up to the bench himself. Edmund nodded at him as he lowered himself to sit on the ground in front of the bench, seizing a waterskin as he sat down. Raising the leather bag to his lips, he took a few small gulps before lowering it to his lap. After taking a moment to glance up at the sun, he returned his gaze to the garden. Susan stared at his profile for a while before he finally looked back at them and she dropped her gaze. Edmund took all this in while attempting to avoid the laughter which would certainly earn him a long lecture from his sister. Deciding it was a wise idea to attempt to mediate the situation, he attempted to strike up a conversation.
"So Braden, where exactly did you learn all your fighting abilities?" Braden was silent for a moment, and Edmund began to think that maybe he shouldn't have asked.
"Some of them I learned before I ever came to this world." Susan gasped.
"You're from the other world?" Braden nodded.
"Just like you and your siblings your majesty. I was a bar boy in Dublin, my employer found out that I had a talent for getting in and out of bad situations, and decided to train me to box. I was only a child, but he put me in the underground fights. I learned quickly there, and became strong because of it. I learned Cornish style wrestling from a man from England before the war broke out, fencing from a Scotsman." Edmund watched carefully as Braden told his story, wondering how this man survived.
"Mind if we listen in?" Edmund practically jumped at his little sisters voice. Braden turned to where Peter was leaning on a post, Lucy standing next to him.
"You've been listening in on us since I sat down, so why stop. Though you may as well take a more comfortable seat. Edmund shifted over to make some room for Lucy while Peter sat on the ground next to Susan. Edmund motioned for Braden to continue his story.
"You were saying that you had been trained in Ireland, how did you come to Narnia?" Braden was quiet for a moment.
"I don't recall how, but I ended up on the Narnian coast, about ten years ago. I was almost immediately captured by Telmarines, who quickly found out about my fighting skills, and began training me in swordsmanship, archery, sailing, anything I asked about really. Before long I was besting their finest in the arts of war. They finally sold me as a slave in Calormene, as a bodyguard. The man I was sold to had many political enemies that he wanted to get rid of, he saw a possibility in me, and handed me over to the master of his assassins to teach me the arts of silent killing. I was there for a few years doing his bidding, killing those whom he told me to kill, I really knew no other way. But it wasn't to last. I did my job well, and got fed, but it wasn't enough. I still desired learning, so I begged my master to teach me. He refused, and finally got tired of my begging for knowledge. He sold me to a passing trader, who had been traveling through on his way to Archenland. He taught me what I asked for, and showed many kinds of plants that were used for medicines all over the world." He paused as Lucy's face scrunched up in concentration.
"How did you come into Aslan's service? Didn't you have to go across the sea?" Braden chuckled lightly.
"All in good time your majesty. There are other things to tell before that. The merchant noted that I was by nature rather quiet, and thought to test my abilities at avoiding detection. I passed with flying colors, having had to remain invisible and unnoticed in the halls of Calormene does that. The merchant revealed to me that he served as a spare set of eyes and ears for the great Lion, and the King across the sea. When I asked what he meant, he would elaborate no further, and when Aslan came, the man told me that I should go with him. Aslan took me across the sea, to an island that became my home for maybe six months along with the rest of the rangers. We all came to Narnia about three years ago, and began familiarizing ourselves with the land. Then when Aslan finally called us all together again, it was to present us to you." Peter and Edmund nodded, as his story spoke to them. Susan was silent, but her knuckles were pale as she clenched her hands. Lucy was staring at him in wonder as he sat there, awed that he had been picked by Aslan to serve Narnia in much the same way they had been chosen. But something gnawed away at the back of Peter's mind.
"Take off your boots." Braden looked up, as did Peters siblings. Edmund immediately saw what his brother was getting at, but Susan and Lucy were trying to figure out what Peter was on about.
"So you know of the Calormene assassins training methods.?" Braden asked as he untied the leather thongs that kept his boots in place. Peter nodded. As the boots came away from his feet, the girls gasped at what they saw. Short, straight scars covered the soles, as well as many smaller scars that looked to have been made by tacks, or caltrops. Peter nodded as he looked over them.
"Some of them look like they became infected at some point." Braden nodded.
"Many of them did, and a few times it laid me up with fever. Even at those times, they would not let me rest. I was a slave, and had to do as my master bid me. He wanted me trained, so there was no rest." Peter and Edmund nodded grimly. Susan and Lucy looked horrified. Braden slipped his boot back onto his foot and wound the laces around the leg. He nodded to Peter as he stood, and began picking up his things, preparing to return to his duties as the watcher of the region. Susan couldn't contain herself any longer.
"The scars on your body, are they from your time as a slave to?" Braden looked at her for a long time before answering.
"Yes my lady. They are. But it is no longer important, as I now serve Narnia as a free man." Susan seemed to accept this, but Edmund seemed to suddenly remember something.
"Aren't Calormene slaves branded, usually on the shoulder, or neck, or wrist?" Braden grinned.
"They are, very observant of you your majesty. However, if a slave if freed then a line is branded or cut through the mark to indicate that the slave is a free man. Aslan himself scarred my brand." he said, lifting his hair to show the crossed out brand at the base of his neck. Edmund nodded as Braden finished collecting his things and vaulted over the wall. As the siblings dispersed from the garden, Susan stayed behind, watching the place he had vaulted over for several minutes before finally leaving.
Okay, so now we learn about Braden's past. For the record, I have no idea if the Calormen actually brand their slaves in the origional stories, I don't own them. Please review.
