"A mouse. His Majesty sends me one of ... one of Them, and not just any One Of Them, he sends me a mouse. A mouse and a ferret."
Lord Valaros cast a scornful glance over at Reepicheep and Everbright, who were sitting by the fire. Reepicheep was trying to instruct Everbright on the proper etiquette when dining with the Sons of Adam, and Valaros mistakenly assumed that the Mouse could not hear his complaint.
"To be fair, Father, you never did answer Caspian's call when he rose up against his uncle. Perhaps he means to put us in our place."
Valaros was a hard, stern man, with a hard, stern face. There was a hint of cruelty in the line of his mouth, tempered by a cool wisdom in the depths of his eyes. You could tell at a glance that he would be fair in his judgements, but merciless in his punishments. Up close, his dark hair was streaked with grey, and his heavy, stocky build gave an impression of unmoveability.
His son Albian was built along similar lines. Wisdom was already deepening in his eyes, but time and experience had yet to etch the same hard lines around his mouth. He had a few more lines beginning at the corners of his eyes than his father did: Albian had laughed more in his twenty-five years than his father had in twice that time.
"I had no intention of fighting beside monsters," Valaros replied.
"You don't mind Thriftkin, though."
Thriftkin was the farm's manager, and therefore the second in command right under Lord Valaros himself.
"Thriftkin's only half Dwarf," said Valaros, "and anyway Dwarfs don't count. They're just very short people, that's all. If young Caspian had got all his support from just the Dwarfs instead of drawing all these Old Narnians out of the woodwork..." He shrugged. There was no changing the past. "Of course he's thrown his lot in with Them now, and the royal court is full of Them. I wonder if we might have been better off under Miraz. Usurper or not, at least we knew where we stood with him."
"Yes, on a suicide mission across the Eastern sea. You were wise to have left when you did." Father and son hazarded a glance back at the hearth - Reepicheep still seemed occupied with instructing his Squire - then turned back to each other. "At the very least," Albian continued, "the Old Narnians aren't going to attack while we have those two creatures under our roof. We can be thankful for that, at least."
"Small mercies," muttered Valaros bitterly. "Well, I had better go play host to our guests. As for you, check on the dinner preparations, then see to it that the two best guest rooms are made ready -"
"For a mouse and a ferret, Father? But surely..."
"They are still our guests. Caspian may be spiting us by sending us a pair of rodents, but I'll not have it be said that we didn't show a royal emissary the proper hospitality due to an honoured guest."
"If you say so, Father." Albian glanced doubtfully at Reepicheep, then departed for the kitchens.
To his credit, Valaros did not attempt to put on a false smile as he approached the pair at the fire. He said: "My son has gone to check on the preparations for dinner, but I expect it shall be some time yet before we may dine. In the meantime, if you would care for some mulled wine..."
"Lord Valaros, you are an honourable man, I think?"
Valaros' eyebrows rose a fraction of an inch in surprise. "I hope I am. A man without honour is nothing."
"Indeed." Reepicheep nodded. "Because you are an honourable man, and because you are my host and I am your guest, I have refrained from upbraiding you before your son. You have dismissed me and my Squire as mere 'rodents': that is an insult I would ordinarily never tolerate from anyone, be he the tallest Giant or tiniest Pixie, and certainly not more than once. Were you to do so again, I should demand satisfaction. Remember that I am not here only for you, but for the Old Narnians as well; and they will afford me as much hospitality as you are prepared now to show me."
"So you heard." Valaros sat down and eyed Reepicheep warily. He might have accused Reepicheep of eavesdropping, but, after all, it had been his own choice to discuss the matter with Albian in that same room. Instead, he only said: "Very well; let there be no lies between us."
"As to the matter of his Majesty's choice of emissaries, I am, as a Mouse, accustomed to being underestimated -"
"Which you should never do!" Everbright piped up, wagging a warning finger at Valaros. "Of course, you weren't there at the battle, or you would have seen exactly what my Master is capable of!"
"Everbright..." Reepicheep closed his eyes and rubbed his paw across his forehead.
"Why, he took on a whole regiment all by himself, and they were sorry they tangled with him, I can tell you! They were all like this, and my Master went like this, and and and..."
Reepicheep was forced to stick Everbright's snout under the rug and sit on him. "I must apologise for my Squire," he told Valaros gravely. "He has a tendency to get a little excitable."
A queer tremor passed across Valoros' lips: he had an urge to smile, but his face simply wasn't used to the idea. He certainly didn't believe any of Everbright's ramblings, at any rate.
Albian appeared at the doorway to announce that dinner was being served. "Thriftkin's here too. Sir Reepicheep, you might be interested in speaking with him, if you have any idea of putting this horrible business to rest."