Ch 2: An Unpleasant Reminder
The years since Coronation Day flew by for most of the Pevensies, full of raids and routs of the last of the White Witch's army, and of visits of state and grand balls and this or that thing. As High King, Peter handled most of the battle plans, with input here and there from Edmund. But most of the time, Edmund was called upon for his counsel. He was good at it. He always made the wisest decision. Narnians in need of the best advice came to him, because he thought before he spoke.
Would he never stop trying to undo the harm he'd done as a boy?
Edmund sighed and ran his hand over the stone of his bedroom balcony. It looked out over the sea, the sea that he'd heard in his sleep for five years, and he still didn't quite believe he belonged at Cair Paravel.
Today was the Coronation Day anniversary feast. At this moment, castle staff were preparing dishes of the most succulent Narnian foods. Distant countries had even sent offerings of exotic fruits and spices, sharing in the festivities by showing their alliance. Faun Tumnus had arrived to re-crown the Kings and Queens in ceremonial celebration.
Just one more reminder of how much I didn't earn this.
Edmund turned from the balcony and pulled his robe from the foot of his bed. He'd never gotten used to servants fussing with his clothes and helping him with tasks he could do himself. In light of the upcoming feast, staff seemed to have doubled overnight. In all his seventeen years, he'd never seen so many people crowded into one building.
Peter met him in the hall, already dressed for the throne room. "Ready, Ed?"
"As I'll ever be." Ed buckled his robe.
"Did you see the Archenlanders sent an embassy?" Peter grinned. "Did you see the girl, the singer who came with them?"
"No."
"Now there's a voice I could get used to. She sang a bit when they arrived. You must have been in council."
Actually, Edmund had been walking in the apple grove with his friend Phillip, the talking horse. About the only being in Narnia who had an inkling of his troubles. Ed forced a smile. "Looking for a Queen to rule with? The castle's already full, don't you think?"
"There's no harm looking." Peter chuckled and clapped Ed on the back. "Come on. Let's go to the kitchens and see if we can steal a chicken. I'm famished, and these things always take so long to get to the feast."
- # -
Edmund sat through two formal declarations of alliance, three dances, the presentation of a silver-leafed tree gifted to Narnia from a distant land called Selbaran (privately, he thought it beastly - what if the tree were a dryad, and they'd uprooted it to bring it here? - but it didn't move or transform once when they brought it in, in its golden pot), and a man who swallowed flaming swords. Ed tried not to yawn as yet another dance was announced. He ought to have gotten more sleep last night, he thought as he struggled to keep his eyes open.
But then something happened to snap him straight awake again. Tumnus raced into the great hall, white-faced and sweating. "Your Highnesses!" he cried. "A word with you!"
Edmund rose from his throne and gathered round the faun with Peter, Susan, and Lucy. "What is it, Tumnus? Quietly, now," Peter asked.
"The giants, Your Highness. The giants of the north are on the move to attack Narnia! They say we've stolen something!" The faun patted at his dripping face with his handkerchief. "What are your orders, sire?"
"Whatever can we have stolen?" Susan said. "We've been ordering all Narnians to avoid the north and stay out of danger." For months, the Narnians had been in border skirmishes with the giants still loyal to the White Witch, but it was unheard of for the giants to have mounted a full attack.
"I don't know," said Mr. Tumnus. "Our allies in Ettinsmoor weren't able to say."
Peter looked to Edmund, who nodded. Then Peter said, "We don't want to frighten our guests. Ed, will you slip out and take a scouting party to the northern border?"
He meant Ed, no one will miss you if you sneak out, you've been doing this at boring functions for years, but Edmund was in no mood to argue. If the giants had found the organizational skill to mount an attack on Narnia, someone had to be leading them. They'd never have thought it for themselves.
"Oh, Edmund, do be careful." Lucy's face had gone as white as Tumnus's, and she embraced him hard.
Ed laughed. "Don't worry, Lu. You won't even know I've been gone."
