Ch 3: A Not So Minor Complication
Leather tunic. Cloak. Leggings, warm leggings. Maybe he ought to bring several pairs. It got cold up north.
Oh, how he hated the cold.
Narnian winters were mild and short, but they still served to remind Edmund of the White Witch and her cruelty. Even Aslan's return to Narnia couldn't circumvent the natural turn of the seasons. Thankfully, it was only late spring, but he would still have to contend with low temperatures at night, and who knew but that he'd have to cross a mountain or two? Giants tended to hide in the wildest countryside.
In the end, he decided to travel light. They'd need speed for a scouting party, and that mattered more than comfort. Edmund had chosen from the most skilled scouts available--a Fox (a son of the very same Fox who had aided Narnia as a spy before the Battle of Beruna), a satyr, and a Centaur. Phillip would accompany them also. Ed had never trusted anyone else to carry him into a battle so much as he trusted the talking horse. And anyway, having a friend along would make the journey rather a lot more tolerable.
A knock at his door brought Edmund's attention up from his makeshift rucksack. "Come in," he called.
Susan entered the room looking worried (which wasn't unusual for Susan, since she tended to mother them all, even though Peter was older than she and the others quite capable of looking after themselves by now), and she carried a leather satchel. "I think you ought to bring this with you," she said.
Ed took it and opened it. Inside lay her ivory horn.
A prickle of anger swelled up from his belly. "Don't you think I'm able to do this without help?"
Susan's expression changed from worry to annoyance in a flash. "Not at all, and don't be such a beast. I'm only trying to be sure you'll stay safe."
At this, Ed swallowed his pride and accepted the horn, and kissed Susan's cheek. "Thanks. I didn't mean to be like that."
"It's all right," she said, and then she got that look in her eye that made her seem far wiser than her years, much more so than when she actually pretended to be. "Ed, I know you haven't been very happy--"
"I'm fine, Su," he interrupted, shouldering the satchel. "I've got to go to the kitchens and get something for the journey. Will you say goodbye to Lucy for me?" He smiled to ease the tension in the air. "She cries whenever Peter or I go away to battle, and I hate to leave her like that."
Susan nodded. "Be careful."
"I will," he said, and they parted company with a last hug.
- # -
As Edmund was passing from the kitchens up to the castle's main gate, he heard a scuffle down a hallway to the side. Hoofbeats echoed against stone, and the clink of armor sounded in the air. "Where's she gone? I just saw her!" said a voice.
"I don't know," called another.
Edmund turned down the hallway to find two Fauns in guard uniforms standing in the middle of the hall. "What's the matter?" Edmund asked.
"There was a girl, sire. She was just here, not a moment ago, and she vanished!" said one Faun.
"She looked like she was sneaking about," said the other.
Then Edmund recognized the hallway in which they stood. At the end stood a suit of armor that looked like it had taken the strength of ten giants to move it to that spot. Edmund knew that behind it lay a secret passage up to Peter's bedchambers. At the beginning of their reign, Peter had used it often to steal out of the castle for some time alone when he tired of the daily trials of being High King. He used it less now, having grown accustomed to his obligations, but Ed remembered meeting him at the end of this hall in the small hours of the night so they could escape the castle and wander Narnia undisturbed by loud, pretentious entourages.
As far as Edmund knew, he and Peter were the only ones who knew of the passage--but he wasn't taking chances. "Go alert the guards and give them her description. I'll find this girl and put a stop to whatever she's doing," he said.
The Fauns left to do his bidding, and at once, Edmund slipped behind the statue and pressed at a stone in the wall. Peter might be in his rooms right now, unaware that he might be in danger. Ed drew a dagger from his boot and slipped into the dark, musty passage, making no noise.
He had no need of a torch. He knew the way led straight upward; a flight of stairs, a landing, another flight, and finally a window at the top of the stair just outside Peter's room, where another suit of armor stood beside the oak door.
He hadn't gone far when he heard a rustle. Threaded through the musty air was the faint scent of a nighttime forest. I don't recall another window, he thought, and anyway, there'd be light--
And then he bumped into something soft--another body. Long hair brushed his face.
He heard the girl draw breath to scream, and quickly wrapped an arm around her and covered her mouth with his hand. He put the dagger to her throat with the other. "Don't make a sound unless I tell you to," he warned. "Do you understand?"
Her body went rigid in his grasp, and though her hands clutched at his robe as though to thrust him away, she nodded.
Ed gripped a handful of her hair and the back of her dress--something smooth and filmy and finer than the most expensive silk--and pressed the point of the dagger to her back. "What are you doing in this passage?"
"Murdering a murderer," she said, low and full of rage.
Fear for his brother gripped Edmund. Had she already killed Peter? When had Ed seen him last? "You had better hope you haven't accomplished your mission," he growled, pressing harder with his dagger. "Up the stairs, and quickly."
The girl stifled a cry, but did as Edmund ordered. At last they reached the top of the stairs, and Ed could see in the moonlight filtering through the narrow window. He still had a fistful of her hair, but he saw now that it was so blond as to be silver, and her dress seemed to be made of mist. What kind of a murderess wore such clothing? "Is Peter alive?" he asked, barely able to wait for the answer.
"Yes," she said in the same hostile tone, "and more's the pity."
The girl turned on him then, and Edmund found himself transfixed. Eyes the color of lilac leaves glared out from a face like porcelain. She looked about Ed's age, but he couldn't bring himself to believe that she aged at all. "Who are you?" he demanded. Without thinking, he released her.
Instead of answering, she fled down the hall past Peter's room in a flurry of airy skirts.
Damn, Ed thought, and gave chase. First giants, and now this.
He'd wanted a chance to prove his right to his throne, but he ought to have been more careful what he wished for.