The Palace Guard
Chapter 2 - Lambert and His Queen
I promise to never cause you harm and to protect you from all ill and danger.
First line of Guard's Oath sworn to Narnian Monarch
In Year 2, Golden Age
Lambert rose as High King Peter and Wrasse left the meeting room, feeling aches join the pain. He had both done too much and now been stationary for too long. The Physician was going to scold him and Briony would snarl. Nothing for it, though. May this wound always remind me to never give trust too easily.
He turned his head as Queen Susan rose from her own seat. "You are in greater pain than you admit, Friend," she said softly.
"As are you, Queen Susan."
She nodded and sagged a little, admitting to him what he had heard her deny to the High King only moments ago. How strange that I can sense in her what another Human, even her own brother, cannot.
"May I help you down from the table?" she asked.
He growled a little at that solicitous and, he deemed, unnecessary accommodation. Stiffly, he walked to the table's edge and looked down at the tiled floor. It would be a hard landing. With a protesting scrape of wood on marble, Queen Susan pushed a chair over to where he stood, allowing him to span the distance in two stages, rather than one leap.
"Thank you," he admitted reluctantly.
Still, Lambert snarled with the pain in his side as he dropped even the lesser distance to the floor.
"I apologize, Queen Susan," he huffed out, recovering his breath. A knife wound was not an experience he wished to repeat. Fortunately, the knife had broken on his ribs before piercing anything vital, and a moment later Lambert had near ripped the attacker's head from his neck. He could still smell the Human's blood in his fur and taste it in his mouth. It was foul beyond words and made him wonder how his own Wolf kind could have ever hunted humans.
"No apologies, ever, Lambert, for injuries so bravely taken and in my defense." The Queen spoke gently, but there was strength too, of the sort in tree roots, winds, and tides. "Will you walk with me, Friend?"
"I will."
They walked together slowly, more carefully than either might do otherwise, each nursing injury. To Lambert, it seemed that Queen Susan took a meandering path through the Palace, the length of the floors, down and up the staircases, through all the public spaces. It was aimless only until he realized that she was purposefully seeking out to greet every Good Beast and Creature. She did this despite her own weariness, making smiling and heroic efforts to reassure all of Cair Paravel that their Gentle Queen was well and whole despite the day's dreadful events.
After accepting the good wishes from Mr. Hoberry, the Faun, and some blinking, confused Moles in the Gardens, Lambert finally said, "You don't fool the Beasts, you know. They sense your injuries, even if the others do not."
"Then we should wait to discuss this further when we are alone, shouldn't we, my Good Wolf?"
Eventually and ever more slowly, together they made their way toward the stream, north of the Palace. The path here was deliberate as well, for there was a Beech grove between lawn and water, and many Dryads to embrace. The Naiads of the stream as well needed to see and speak with their Queen.
At last, Queen Susan carefully lowered herself to the ground at the water's edge. She struggled with her foot coverings, slippers and stockings, Lambert remembered they were called. With her awkward and oozing bandages, it was slow, painful work to remove them.
With a sigh, she finally said, "Lambert, I very much wish to soak my feet in the Lady's stream. Could you please help me?"
Warily, he approached. What she asked would require very close contact. "I do not have hands to aid you, Queen Susan."
"No? You do not keep a spare pair hidden in your ruff?" Holding out her sore, bloodied hands, she said, "I would use my own teeth to remove my stockings, but cannot reach that far. Would you?"
"Queen Susan, would you trust a Wolf to do such a thing?"
"I did not ask any Wolf; I asked you, Friend." She smiled again, and it was not in his heart to refuse her anything.
Gingerly, he bent and took the scrap covering her foot in his teeth. The scent of his Queen, so close, was nearly overwhelming in its immediacy. She was hiding her pain from everyone else, yet allowing him to see it and share its burden. Beneath that peaceful, gracious countenance she was angry and sad and even a little frightened, and determined to show nothing save confidence and assurance. Here was duplicity of an altogether different sort than the murderous one that would have taken her from Narnia. It made him want to dig up the corpse of the assassin who had done this to her and rip it to pieces.
Lambert gently pulled the scrap from his Queen's foot, as gently as if lifting a talking Fledging from the ground who had fallen from her nest.
Shifting uncomfortably and with a hiss of pain, Queen Susan proffered the other foot. Lambert removed that stocking as well and deposited both at her side. "Thank you," she breathed with relief and eased her feet into the stream
Lambert took a step forward and plunged his muzzle into the cool, clear water, willing away the defilement of the flesh still stinking his breath. It felt grossly wrong to be so close to Queen Susan with such violence still clinging to him. He drank deeply.
"Thank you, Lady," he finally said to the Naiad, and perceived in the water a happy face with swirling hair. Raising his head, Lambert tested the area carefully, with nose and ear.
"I sense no Beasts or other Creatures close, save the Dryads," Lambert told her.
"Friend Trees!" Queen Susan called. "I ask to be alone with my Wolf Friend. Will you leave us please?
With sighs of their own, the Dryad Trees about them shifted and began moving away.
"Lady Naiad," Lambert said to the stream. "Your Queen wishes privacy."
He could not see the colours shift, but the hair swirled into the water and the pattern moved downstream.
Lambert raised his nose again, swiveling ears and head about, straining to catch any remaining whisper. "To the extent one can be alone in Narnia, we are, Queen Susan,"
The Queen turned to face him, and put her hand on his head.
He immediately dropped his head to avoid looking her in the eye, hunched his body, and bent his neck in offering to her.
"I'm sorry," she said with uncertainty, withdrawing her hand. "Have I done something wrong?"
"No," Lambert said, still looking away, and crouching down lower still; it was going to hurt if he rolled on to his back. "Wolf language differs from your own. I am acknowledging your authority."
"Oh." She put her hands in her lap; the blood would stain the outer clothes she wore. The smell would probably always be there.
Lambert unwound from his submissive posture as she splashed her feet in the stream, flicking drops across the surface. "We will need to become better accustomed to each other if you become my Guard."
"I am not worthy for that, Queen Susan." He wished it were otherwise, for he wanted very much to savage any who might seek to harm the Gentle Queen. Guilt had nagged him since the attack.
"None of that, Lambert." Again there was that astounding steel he sensed in her, as strong as the High King's own sword. "You told me something was amiss. If I had listened, this might not have happened as it had."
"I didn't know what it was I sensed," he whined miserably. "I couldn't name it."
"But you can now, correct?"
"Yes," Lambert was forced to admit. The sudden clarity when he connected his unease with the Human's deception was one he would remember until the day he crossed to Aslan's own Country. "Still, Queen Susan, you might have died for my error."
"Not your error alone," the Queen said firmly. "There were many errors that compounded, one on the other, to bring this about."
The logic of that, he could not refute.
"I would hope," the Queen continued, "that you and I would grow older and wiser together."
He raised his head, but when she tried to look at him, again, he had to avert his gaze.
"Wolf language?" she asked.
"Yes."
Avoiding her eyes, he again scanned the area. There were some birds about, Dumb though, and some Talking Squirrels. The Squirrels were further away, and arguing heatedly about nuts. There were always arguing about nuts. If not nuts, they argued about pine cones.
"There is one thing which makes me hesitate in asking you to serve as my Guard, Lambert."
Lambert now stared at her feet still in the water, thinking he could guess the source of her reluctance. He had heard the tale later of how the High King won his spurs slaying Maugrim, but not before the Witch's Wolf Captain had nearly pulled Queen Susan from the tree she had climbed by her dangling leg.
"My kind did serve her," he admitted, not able to stop the growl of disgust and the hair that automatically rose every time he thought of the base betrayals.
"But you did not, Lambert. And serving as my Guard would show all Narnia that We do not judge a whole race based upon the mistakes of individuals."
Queen Susan made that royal We very clear, even to those with ears less sensitive than his own.
"No, Friend, what makes me hesitate to ask so much of you is your new Mate, Briony."
Oh. Yes, there is that. Lambert was still not quite used to considering the wishes of his Mate in what had before been his decisions alone.
"I would ask that you discuss it with her. You will, I think, be with me more than with your Mate, if this works as it is intended. Briony would never refuse her Monarchs anything, and so this places her in a difficult position. As her loss of your steady companionship is to my gain, I would wish her blessing."
A breeze brought something to his nose; Lambert swiveled an ear in that direction. He caught the whiff of smug female Cat, Cheetah specifically.
"Dalia approaches, Queen Susan."
The Queen looked about, up and down the stream bank and, shielding her eyes, stared through the trees lining the path they had taken. "I do not see her yet."
"Nor do I," he replied. "Still, the Cheetah comes."
"I now see another advantage to you as my Guard, Lambert. Please always give such notice, if you would."
The Cheetah appeared on the path, a swinging walk, tail high. It was the confident gait of a dominant, solitary, female Cat. Lambert had been spending a lot of time with them lately and was finding their haughty ways irritating.
Dalia bowed her head, bending one front leg. "Queen Susan, Lambert."
"Good day, Friend. What is it?"
"Wrasse has asked me to relieve Lambert, your Majesty, so that he may rest."
Lambert growled. "I will certainly not be relieved!"
Foolish Cats. They always acted with such conceited superiority. Yes, Wrasse's idea for the Guard was a sound one; but a Canine would have thought of it as well. Now Wrasse would seek on that basis to order him about even though he was not in her chain of command.
"Thank you, Dalia."
Lambert looked at Queen Susan. She seemed content and accepting of this change. Why? Perhaps she would in the end rather have a Beast that was not of the same kind that had tried to murder her? Perhaps a Cheetah would serve her better. Lambert growled again. Not if I have anything to say about it. I'll give that Panther a piece of my mind.
"Lambert?"
He looked up at his smiling Queen. "What Wrasse and Dalia say, notwithstanding, I excuse you only temporarily. Relieved of duty for the moment, you will recover all the sooner and then rejoin me as My chosen Guard."
Oh. "Yes, my Queen."
"Go to your Mate and give her the news. I shall then inform Wrasse and Master Roblang of Our decision."
There was no mistaking the royalty in that tone. Dalia's ears flicked and she blinked her understanding as well.
Though there was no way the Cheetah could misapprehend their Queen's Order, Lambert asserted his Guard's prerogative and authority. Rising tall, swiveling his ears forward, tail high, he let his hackles bristle. He was not going to be usurped by a Cat.
"Cheetah, I cede my Guard only provisionally, and only because my Queen requests it."
To his Queen, he bowed, and went with good heart to follow her command.
To follow:
Chapter 3, Double Income, No Pups
