The professor came to the end of his story and he sat back to watch the children's reactions. Peter, Susan and Lucy mulled over what they've learned, exchanging brief glances with each other.
"So there is a way to go back?" Lucy asked with hope, the first to voice what was foremost on the Pevensies' minds.
Kirke gazed at the young girl with sympathy. "Child, do you truly believe you would be here if Aslan had meant for you to stay in Narnia?"
"But what of Edmund?" Peter demanded.
To this, Kirke had no answer.
Oreius could not be deterred. Edmund paced his horse restlessly before the general, anger shimmering just beneath the cold exterior.
When Edmund had finally retired to the temporary camp for the night and found Oreius, the immediate feeling of relief at seeing his general was hardly a surprise. However, he didn't expect the Centaur to firmly steer him away, beyond a screen of trees and a ways from the camp, the moment Oreius set eyes on his king.
"You would have me abandon my family, your sovereigns, to this unknown fate?" Edmund asked with deadly calm once the Centaur had made clear of his intentions.
"I would have you, your Majesty, think of your kingdom and your people. Do not abandon them in their hour of need." Oreius held up a hand to forestall any further protests. "I will remain here to head the search until such times as you have settled the affairs of state to the satisfaction of your councilors, and have selected a suitable regent to take your place if you continue to insist on being here yourself."
"Can there be any questions of where my place is, General?" Edmund asked icily. "Things will keep at Cair Paravel until my family is found."
"But for how long?" Oreius asked.
Edmund didn't answer, instead he stared at the ground and gritted his teeth. It was true that he could not leave his duties so abruptly without making clear of who was in authority during his absence. Though Narnia had experienced years of prosperity and peace like none had seen before, it would be unwise, to say the least, to leave his people without word or assurance, and just hope things would continue as before.
"I will send messengers back with instructions," Edmund said, knowing it wouldn't work but was grasping at any way that'd release him from having to waste a journey back home.
"Do you truly believe you can leave the running of the entire kingdom with just a few dispatches, your Majesty?"
Edmund finally raised his eyes and glared hard at Oreius, who retained eye contact with the young man with impassivity. "Then let's settle things here and now. What if I should appoint you as my regent, General? I trust you above all else of my subjects, and I can think of none other who has as much love for our country and know her so well as you, save my brother and sisters."
Oreius bowed at Edmund's words, but he was unmoved. "You honor me, my king, but I would be a poor choice indeed. My place is with my men on a field of battle. In combat and warfare few could rival me, but in the capacity as head of state, I have no doubt that the kingdom would presently descend into chaos, and be at war with no less than two of our neighbors." Here he smiled, recalling for them both the (rare) times when the Centaur had been called upon to take on the role of a diplomat – and the near disasters it result.
Edmund couldn't help returning the smile (the time when a single sentence from Oreius that was almost interpreted as a declaration of war came to mind), or acknowledge the truth of his words. "It looks like you leave me no choice," he said with resignation. Then his voice hardened again as he continued, "I will return as soon as I'm able. In the meantime, I expect reports on even the slightest signs of my brother and sisters. I know not of the manners in which they have disappeared, but if it looks to be a kidnapping, or worse, you should know I'll have our army readied, and I shall be in its lead, no matter that I've left things unfinished at the Cair."
Oreius bowed once more. "Understood, my liege."
The company at the temporary camp couldn't see or hear what the general and their king was about, but the occasionally raised voice gave them a pretty good idea. They waited tensely and in uncomfortable silence, unable to make conversation and, for inexplicable reasons, fearing to make even the smallest sound.
What was said in this secret conference they never knew, but the result was that King Edmund rode back to his waiting subjects announcing that he and his courtiers were to leave at first light, leaving the general in charge of continuing the search. Oreius was a few steps behind; his eyes sought out his captains, who quickly came to the fore to receive their orders.
While Edmund's dark mood remain, he appeared less desperate and restless than the days before. The burden he shouldered was still there, but he now had someone – with whom his trust was absolute – to share it with. Edmund and Oreius conferred quietly through the night, the general even managing to convince the young king to partake in a full meal. The tension of the entire camp was still palpable, but the suffocating gloom and despair was lifted, and they found renew strength and determination.
Edmund and his courtiers departed the next morning as promised. The young sovereign said naught except to charge those staying to thoroughly search these woods and not to return until their three missing monarchs were found.
Edmund and Oreius exchanged a brief glance, then the young man turned and led his procession east, back toward their home.
"Do you think Aslan had meant for Edmund to stay behind?" Lucy asked of his older siblings.
Susan and Peter looked to each other, then Susan shook her head. "I wish we know, Lucy. Though I can't believe he would intentionally separate us."
It was unthinkable for any of them that Aslan would, for any reason, divide their family so. They were strongest together, and to be alone such as Edmund must be was unthinkable.
"How do you think he is doing?" Lucy asked, as she had been doing non-stop since Professor Kirke left them in their room.
Peter sighed, patience worn thin by the constant questions and by the unquieting feeling stemmed from his absent brother. "How should we know, Lucy?" he snapped.
Susan cuffed him smartly on the head, making him raise his eyes in surprise to her. Then he noticed Lucy, sitting cross-legged like they were, had her arms about herself as if to hold herself close. Susan opened her arms and Lucy scrambled into them.
"I'm sorry, Lu. Truly. We're just worried," Peter said gently, chagrined at his behavior.
"We can't leave Edmund behind," Susan said. Though a child once more, her bearings and the confidence in her words marked her a queen. "I don't care what the professor thinks, I refuse to believe that Aslan would intentionally tear Edmund from us, or us from him."
"I know, you're right," Peter said. "We have to go back for him."
"What if he's happy there?" Lucy, still snuggled tight in Susan's arms, didn't look at her older siblings. "I miss Narnia terribly... I don't think I would have come back if the choice was mine."
Peter reached out to gently lift Lucy's head by the chin until they were staring eye to eye. "Can you honestly say you'd have been happy, even in Narnia, without the rest of us?"
Lucy looked deep into herself, then shook her head no; life without her siblings would be no life at all, here or anywhere. Still, despite Peter and Susan's determination to retrieve Edmund, there was the obstacle of actually getting back to do so. She said, "Professor Kirke buried those rings when he returned from Narnia, and that must have been ages ago!" The implication behind her words were clear: it might well prove impossible to find those rings he spoke of in the story, after so long.
"We have to try," Peter said, speaking for all of them.
After a space of silence, Lucy whispered, "Are we to defy the Great Lion?" Susan gathered her little sister even closer as she looked to Peter.
"If we must," Peter said grimly.
Susan added, "Then so be it."