Chapter Two: Thinking of You

(In which the king rides North to treat with a new evil.)

The moral law causes the people to be in complete accord with their ruler, so that they will follow him regardless of their lives, undismayed by any danger. -Sun Tzu, The Art of War

In the dark is a place I love—it's a place that allows me to embrace all that society and her flaws force me to release. -Anonymous

Erlian swayed to the beat of his horse, and listened to the sound of the dwarf drums beat the march. Water dripped off his helm, and when he turned to look back, he could barely see the last men in the line.

His thoughts were on what lay ahead of the dismal weather. The Ettins had been harassing the Narnian border for months now, but never so serious as to kill a large group of humans. The slaughter that had been described to him by Hrag was not natural. For some reason, after all the battle's he had fought, this one screamed that there was something wrong. Something else was going on. This was why he had to go personally. This sort of this had not happened since High King Peter had beaten them back in the Golden Age. Now he, Erlian, first of that name, son of Erol, knight under Aslan, was to face the evil breed of Giants. Erlian could think of places he would rather be.

But his duty lay here, on the road with his men, riding north with 100 strong, to make sure the Giants were held back. He knew that the ill rain, the mist and wet bedrolls made everyone in the small army wish they were somewhere else, and the fact that they rode beside him pleased Erlian. He was grateful for their company, their strength, and their loyalty to Aslan, Narnia, and their king.

His mind wandered from his soldiers to the Ettins again. Latest news brought back word of a band of traveller who had been attacked. There was more wrong with that picture, as well, he thought. The band had been too far north to simply be enjoying the Narnian summer. Nor would they go that far to trade goods, so they could not be peddlers or such and no Narnian in their right minds would go into Ettin territory, but perhaps they had not been in their right minds, so…

"Majesty, the scouts say there is shelter ahead. Tree cover, in an advantageous place. If weather permitted, we might travel longer, to higher ground and more cover, but the sun sets soon, and this is the best we will find before darkness covers us."

"Thank you, friend. These are blessed words to hear right now," Erlian said, holding his arm up so that Freedom, an Eagle Scout (and great friend to the king) could alight. "How is everyone?"

"They are weary, majesty, but their loyalty runs deep, and they will plough through their weariness to end the evil done in the north." Freedom looked back. "I can scarce see the end of the line."

"Well, that is proof indeed that your age is indeed beginning to show, friend. Perhaps this should be your last campaign after all?" Neither said what was already known: any of the good beats and men riding here could never return.

"Never, King Erlian. I will die on the field of battle."

"Freedom, you have a family."

"And they will remember my name if I die honourably."

Erlian sighed, and kept silent, knowing that the Eagles had strong views about death and glory. If his liege had given him the chance to grow old with Rose and Tirian, he would have taken it gladly. Freedom was a good friend, though, and for it all, Erlian was glad he would fight by his side. Even the Giants knew the dangers of an Eagle on the battlefield.

Still, this felt wrong. It was the feeling that came to him in his bones, the feeling that a campaign was about to go terribly wrong. Erlian had felt it once before, and learned never to ignore it. He had felt it the eve of the Battle of Shuddering Wood, the battle in which his father had died.

Coming back to the present, Erlian dismounted—they had arrived. He watched around him for a moment as men and beasts alike worked together to accomplish a common goal: warmth and shelter. He frowned for a heartbeat as he thought of the ambassadors from Archenland. They were not what he had hoped for. Now he sat with a few families who were used to the ease of royal life in their own country, and expected Narnia to be the same. Life in Narnia was not hard, no, on the contrary. It was just that everything, everything was so different to Archenland's traditions, and Erlian had seen that clearly at the feast. The guests were obviously uncomfortable, but while most tried to integrate, the lord Ayden and his family openly looked disgusted when they were served by Animals. It was the racism Erlian could not stand. Of course, his growing up amongst Narnians helped him be more knowledgeable, but to be so out rightly rude was not fitting anyone, especially a lord and lady.

"My lord?" The centaur Kale spoke from beside the king. "All is well?"

"Ah. Yes, friend. All is well."

"You are worried my lord. Not only about the coming battle."

"Yes, ever knowing centaur, you are right. I am worried about many things. It is the curse of being a king."

"Ha! It is the curse of being a thinking creature, majesty. Not only kings have much to worry about." The centaur smiled, and turned away to help a group of dwarves set up the tents. Erlian grinned, and moved to help his people.

Dawn of the thirteenth day saw them at the border of the Ettinsmoor.

There were grey clouds in the sky, obscuring the sun, but thankfully, it wasn't raining. There was a faint fog gathering, and Erlian's gut twisted at the thought of fighting in it. Even if their opponents were large, fog made for messy battles. There was a war recorded where the most of the deaths were caused by blinded fellow soldiers. It wasn't safe. But they were here now, and perhaps it would not come to blood. Perhaps they could treat with the giants.

Erlian rode forth from his small army on his white stallion, towards the Giant's Causeway. The massive stones that littered the way got cautious glances from all the Narnians—it would not be the first time in history that a giant was mistaken for a stone.

"Ettins! Giants of the North! I am Erlian, king of Narnia! I wish to treat with you!" The giants had not had a king for fifty years now, since their civil war that had been the cause for earthquakes in the surrounding lands. The king had been beheaded and devoured, which was unusual for the Ettins. They were not known cannibals.

A boulder moved, and the Narnians tensed, but the boulder itself was not a giant, merely a giant's hiding place.

"You wish to treat with the Leader?" it asked.

"Yes," Erlian called, taking in the appearance of the Ettin before him. The long brown hair was matted and dirty, dreading, mostly, and the clothes that covered the creature were in tatters. But for all this, it was female. Yes, quite definitely female.

The Ettin appeared to be taking him in as he was doing to her.

"Will you come alone?" she asked.

"I cannot. I would bring officers with me for council during the treat if I may. And I would bring at least five guards for our protection." It was risky giving such high demands, but he had no wish to enter the Ettin territory alone and an easy target.

"Ha, little king, you are daring," she said, and took a step close, crossing the border and stopping on Narnian soil.

"These are evil times, one cannot be too careful," he retorted.

"Evil for you, perhaps. We have never been more prosperous." She raised an index finger and beckoned. "Come, bring your little officers and wee soldiers, tiny king. Come now." She smiled, revealing rotten teeth and a dimple.

Erlian motioned to Kale and Freedom among others, and a group of seven rode and walked after the giant. Erlian's hand twitched on his horn—one long blow meant they were ambushed, two sharp blows meant the remaining army was to attack, and three blows meant all was lost here and to return and protect the castle. The horn was enchanted. The sound would carry.

Erlian hoped he would not have to touch the horn.

The first time Erlian had been to the Ettin Castle was with his father. They had come to speak of trade (the idea had not worked out in the end) between the countries, and Erlian had tagged along to see the largest number of giants ever.

Then, the great stone castle had been in ruins from the war, and most dealing was done in the open close to the giant's temple. The temple had been thirteen rectangular boulders, end up, in a circle, and a large square slab in the centre for sacrifices. The castle before him now, was not the ruins he remembered, but rather like the histories take on it from the adventures of Rilian the Disenchanted. The massive structure took his breath away—he barely came a fifth of the doors height while he was mounted.

Their guide opened the doors and they entered, finding the doors opened directly into the throne room, and feeling a silence settling over the occupants. There was a massive stone throne on the far side, and the giant who brought them headed towards it. They followed, Erlian taking in the number of giants (six), the amount of weapons they each carried (approximately three each, leaving space for a hidden dagger), and the places others could emerge from.

The tension from the Narnians was palpable. The only escape any of them could see, apart from the door, was a window high above the throne, and there was only one gryphon with them. Each one knew the king would damn his nobility and not leave until everyone else was safe. Which really made one gryphon useless.

They finally reached the throne, but it was empty of a giant.

At the right foot of the stone throne, there was a smaller throne—human sized, and thereon sat a man. When he rose, he was over six foot, with long dark hair, shot through with red. He was dressed like a respectable merchant, but with less colour. Sombre greys and browns seemed to be the man's taste. A fine sword hung at his hip, and Erlian could almost feel Falin, the dwarf with them, itching to see it.

Erlian looked into the man's eyes, and wished he hadn't. He knew the lore books told of soulless creatures from the deep parts of the earth, but Erlian had never truly considered their existence. The black eyes, with no whites or pupils that stared back at him worried the king.

It all was beginning to make sense.

The raids and murders and disappearances on the northern border was not the work of giants—and they were not the work of a being under the guide of Alsan. They were not things that happened in Narnia, and the king had never heard of such things happening in the surrounding lands either. Erlian held the other man's gaze as memories of the tortured, broken bodies of his people rose.

"King Erlian." The voice was cold, and a chill passed through the Narnians. Erlian's people were not easily cowed, but this was beyond what they were accustomed to.

"You have the advantage, my lord. You know me, yet I know you not." The king stepped forward, and gave a slight bow.

"I am Malik."

Erlian waited for more—for the man to speak of his wealth, lands and conquests, but Malik remained silent, regarding Erlian.

"Malik."

"Yes."

"You aide the Ettins."

"I do."

"The pillaging and death on my border are your doing then?"

"Yes."

Erlian raised his eyebrows, staring at the man. "Why?"

"They tried to stop us from doing what we intend to do."

"And what is that?"

"To conquer the land of Narnia. To carry on south, to Archenland, and on to Calormen. Then further south, to the lands beyond."

"What, you plan to rule the world?" Erlian clenched his jaw, and his hand twitched to his sword.

"Simply to conquer it, and leave it in an ashen ruin." Said in the cool voice of Malik, Erlian had never felt more confused. "What happens to the land after we leave does not bother me."

"So you do this for what? Pleasure?"

"My motives confuse you."

"Yes!"

"Majesty," Kale said softly, stepping beside him. "Tread carefully with this man."

Erlian breathed heavily through his nose, closing his eyes, then opening them, and looking around him, at the tall pillars, the high walls, the ceiling far above them. If he pleaded for this mad man to leave Narnia in peace, then what? Even if Narnia was spared, he would ride to aide Archenland, and even, he knew, Calormen, against this threat. And the chances, he knew, of Malik leaving Narnia be was slim at best. What could he offer? Gold to help fuel the evil campaign? Weapons to help kill innocent people? Land that Malik would take anyway? Erlian shut his eyes again, knowing that no matter what he gave, Malik would not take it, and would not leave Narnia alone. And Erlian knew, in any case, that no matter what Malik asked, it would not be given to him. But there were his people to consider. He had to try.

"We have come to treat."

Author's note: I apologise so, so, so much for the ultra long wait for the chapter. I hope to have the next up sooner, but a lot has been happening in my life since March, and things haven't really been looking up yet. I hope, though, that you enjoyed the chapter—I enjoyed writing it. Please, questions, comments...you know what to do!