Peter, being his usual pugnacious, noble, impulsive self, wanted to charge the warlock and the lord of the castle immediately – perhaps even attack the whole castle with only few guards because General Oreius had led the bulk of the army back to Narnia. The fair-haired young man was a bright and overwhelming wild fire, Rhindon flashing in his hands. While fighting, he would have been every inch Aslan's warrior and High King. Because of this, many Narnians had started to call him the Magnificent, and Edmund wholeheartedly agreed – even if he sometimes teased his brother about it, especially when he wanted to hide how much Peter and their sisters actually meant to him. He preferred deeds over words, and a certain kind of conversation was too sentimental for him to be comfortable.
Once, he and Peter had been respectively compared to air and fire by a wise Archenlander alchemist. The fire could either create or purify the air, while the air could either feed or dampen down the fire. The alchemist had called it symbiosis, but Edmund called it a balance.
Right now, they needed a damping-down draft of air, badly. The younger King twitched his lips at his brother's fury. "What?" Peter asked, then realised, "Oh, did I do it again?"
"Yes. Honestly, Peter," Edmund mock-sighed, "you're incorrigible... but magnificence needs fire to maintain itself, so we can state you are necessarily incorrigible to avoid disappointing the Narnians. Aren't you, High King?"
Despite the moment, they smiled at Edmund's mock eloquence and slipped in a light humor. "Please, tell me, O strategist Edmund, what will be our next move?" Peter said, cawing in a poor imitation of the old, wise and brutally frank Raven who first had introduced them in the world of crafty diplomacy and high strategy.
"Your Majesty, reflect. You have a brain, use it!" Edmund replied, ruthlessly teasing both Peter and the poor absent Raven. "But seriously, my plan is simple and one-worded, actually: talking."
"Talking?" Peter was incredulous. "Ed, maybe you haven't noticed that..."
"Pete, concentrate and you'll see what I see. You must," Edmund interrupted.
"What I should see, this I do not see."
Edmund's meaningful look was followed by Peter's long "ooooooooh!"
"Oooooh indeed," Edmund repeated, teasing him once again. Alright, he thought, how could our connection be weaker than Peter's stubborness? Our brains usually blend effortlessly and... No no, I see a mischievous sparkle in his eyes: he understood but didn't want to make this easier for me. Bothersome big brother!
You'll be proud of me and my communication skills, dearest little brother. Aslan, help me, please, and don't let Edmund do anything impulsive to save me. I know he will. He thinks I don't suspect, but I can read my brother, when he judges someone's character...
Don't worry, I'll be your shadow and I'll protect you, dear big brother. I didn't want you to discover, but I don't trust the warlock. Have ever watched his eyes? You probably have. But behind them? You probably haven't. Behind his eyes, there is Jadis's soul. Oh, Aslan, we are yours, remember that – remember us.
Truly, they both knew that their brother knew, but it was simpler to pretend they didn't.
In the meanwhile, the warlock brewed maleficent potions, invented lethal spells, hatched harmful plots and evilly grinned. Foolish golden king! He really thinks to return home safe, doesn't he? Well, we'll change his mind. It would be rude of him as a guest, neglecting me, his host, and my needs. Right now I need several things and I can't really decide their priority on my "to-do list." Of course, drawing him here was a piece of cake – those Narnians are too noble and predictable for their own sake. It was enough to say that some slave traders had planned to uprise against Calandratos's new laws abolishing the enslavement and he was here in a blink with his army without even knowing us. Fool! He walked into my trap without a second thought! And now I need to own Narnia and its richness! This shire is becoming boring, and as far as I've enjoyed being Calandratos's right hand man and advisor, I deserve a kingdom! So the next thing to do is probably getting rid of the High King. I'd love to see him dead if at all possible. If his title is true, no High King should mean anarchy, and Narnia will be mine. Or should I find a way to use him for my own purposes? Perhaps facing one of his siblings could be interesting, too...
Lord Calandratos was open to the dialogue, Peter had already noticed that. If only that warlock would not be there. A valet accompanied Peter in the majestic picture gallery, where the Lord was standing very pensive and alone. Honestly, he seemed rather lost. Approaching his host, the Narnia's King noticed he was staring at a portrait depicting a gracious fair-haired woman: she wore an elegant Narnian tiara and in the background there was a hardly-visible golden lion, who seemed to watch over her, while walking by the shore of a bright lake.
"Hail, your Majesty. I was thinking of that Big Cat of yours..." the Lord began.
"Aslan?"
"Aslan... Right, he... does he... I mean, they say he's not tame, but good. How is that so?"
"When you'll know Him, you'll understand. I can't explain, but I can ensure your Lordship that's true." Peter smiled, thinking of the Highest King of all Kings.
"One of my ancestors married a Narnian princess. She taught him to trust in Him. But somehow everything went bad and there was none to hear me anymore... I felt so alone. Everyone I loved has abandoned me, except for my dear magician: he has magic, and he can't leave me. I find it so difficult to have faith, to trust."
"Lord Calandratos, you trust someone nevertheless, from what you say," the king gently replied, alluding to the warlock. "So you know how it works. And, somehow you believe in Aslan's nonexistence. Why not believing in His existence, then? Please, meditate on it. Aslan never abandons his children. You may think He does, but He's just arranging a new adventure and a greater joy; you'll always find another door before the previous one is truly shut. And when you'll feel alone and weak, He'll allow you to ride Him."
Suddenly, a great screeching filled his senses. Peter could only catch glimpses: dark hair, red fire, loud shouts and an excruciating pain in his left side. He instinctively searched for his brother and found him by his side. Edmund was the dark-haired person who had thrown himself in front of him, managing to deflect the flaming arrow that would have killed him otherwise. Edmund was now supporting him but somehow also managing to stand in front of him, protective and fierce and wild. A group of Talking Beasts was surrounding the two kings, too.
Everyone (Lord Calandratos included) was puzzled. The arrow had just appeared from nothing and looked alive: its target was Peter and only him. Edmund had touched it in order to deviate it but, apart from a light sting, he had received no injury.
The warlock's entrance explained it all.
The Beasts growled and snarled, and Edmund did it too. Peter would have been amused at his brother's sounds, but he was slowly slipping into darkness, trusting his brother to keep him and Narnia safe. He knew he should have been overworried, but Edmund was becoming less of a child and more of a King every day. Edmund knew and was going to do what his High King expected, no matter what, he promised to himself, baring his teeth in a dreadful, feral expression and aggressively growling once again like a wolf that was marking his territory. And somehow he was: Narnia was his land and Peter was his brother. None touched them and got away with that, so a wolf fit nicely.
All the Four Sovereigns liked spending time with their subjects, trying to understand them better, and identifying themselves with each one of the Narnian races, should the need arise. It was an interesting and helpful thing to do and Edmund had discovered that wearing someone else's skin was plenty of fun.
Cautiously staring at the villain who had treacherously hit his brother, Edmund gently ordered the Narnians to bring away and attend the High King, which they promptly did. Then he emitted a whistle. A Phoenix appeared and nodded to the Just King, who seemed relieved. Peter would be out of that castle soon.
The warlock was considering carefully the boy. "So it's true," he began, "that there are two kings in that country of yours. Why? You're too stupid and cowardly to stay alone, aren't you? And..."
Edmund quit listening, but he couldn't help but hear the last offense against Aslan Himself spat by that pathetic being in front of him and his blood boiled.
"...I'm sure of it. After all it's your pet, your kitten and..."
"Enough!" Edmund interrupted coldly. "You don't deserve anything from me and certainly you don't deserve this honor, but," he paused for dramatic effect and theatrically sighed, as if the next words truly hurt him, "but I shall provoke you to a single combat and then we'll see how you do."
The warlock paled. Apparently, he knew the legendary swordsmanship skills of both Narnian kings, an excellent psychological advantage. The warlock raised his chin – how childlike, Edmund thought, snorting – he began to speak, words heavy with fake interest: "O Just one, please tell me: you did betray and want your family dead, didn't you? How is it? You're no better than me. Maybe I can help you to deal with that. Let's see: I can delete your past, for example. Would you like it? I know I could not live with myself if I were you."
Edmund knew what he was trying to do, but unfortunately for that disgusting creature, it would not have worked. He was beyond his betrayal and Aslan had justified him; he sometimes still felt that burden but not now. He had Aslan's peace.
The warlock casually continued, "I see. You're very hard to please, but I'll manage to do it. You are a king; you are powerful and rich, and you have a family... But there must be something worth enough to tempt you. I would be sorry to have to kill you."
Honestly, Edmund was amused; where did this big-headed thing come from? He continued to listen the warlock's random promises with fake courtesy in order to understand his enemy better. Now that Peter was well cared for, he could be levelheaded.
At last, voice dangerous and grave with authority, the rightfully Just King answered, "You're mistaken. You could not make me any offers that would tempt me to accept them. While watching the Witch heading towards Peter with her wand and sword during the Battle of Beruna, I've held in my hands the destiny of a lot of people, including my own. At that very moment, I chose. I chose once for all and forever. I pledged my loyalty to Narnia, her High King and Aslan. And my opinion of you was decided from the very beginning: your manners convinced me of your true nature. You have defied Aslan's mercy for too long. So a last warning: regret your deeds now or you won't have other chances."
Edmund knew Aslan was endlessly mercyful and forgiving, but He could be just and vengeful, too.
"Actually, I am sorry."
Edmund wasn't deceived.
"...sorry that you refused my offers. But if I were you, I'd think very carefully of it. My plan is simple and good. You and your little family will be safe and free to go everywhere you like. And don't worry: we'll keep up appearances. We'll fight and I'll win but spare your lives."
"Of course, a good plan indeed, except for a tiny, insignificant detail." Edmund answered pleasantly, then suddenly roared: "Narnia is my family! Aslan entrusted it to my siblings and we won't fail Him and our subjects!" Edmund's tone became perfectly calm once more, but that was perhaps more unnerving than his shouting. "I've already said that your offers couldn't tempt me in any way. Please, tell me what you don't understand in this sentence. I would think it's quite clear."
The warlock shuddered. "Very well. As always, this conversation is boring me to death, but..."
Edmund couldn't help but mock his enemy. "Really? If only I had known this before, you would be dead now. I can be very boring if I want. Pity!"
The warlock glared at him angrily. "As I said, talking is boring but I want to make myself clear: either you leave me Narnia or you die of atrocious pain. And then, with your brother injured, none will save your precious country."
"You really have no eye for the details, do you? Few words will be enough: Gentle and Valiant Queens and Aslan. Oh and do not be deceived by their titles: our Gentle one is the best Narnian archer, she could hit you with her closed eyes. The Valiant one could beat you in the blink of an eye with her dagger. Aslan needs no words, but you'd be decomposed by His very presence." Edmund was exaggerating once again: he and his siblings couldn't stop a magical person in any way. Certainly, Aslan could help them, but understanding His will was impossible. The Warlock had to accept the challenge so that Edmund could try to get rid of him in a (hopefully) fair fight: it was the only option at present and in order to do so the King should have got him mad enough.
The warlock growled, "Nothing will help you – I have something in store for you. You are as good as dead."
Edmund tried very hard not to show any feelings and succeeded, but couldn't help but think he would be in Aslan's Realm soon. He coldly replied, a dangerous hint entering his voice as he portrayed himself darker than he was, "Thank you for your concern. Let me return such a courtesy and remind you that I'm said to bring justice but also death. They sometimes add mercy, but not as long as you're involved, I fear." Here a knife appeared out of thin air in the dark-haired King's left hand, and his face savagely twisted in a feral expression as he absentmindedly twirled it.
The warlock brushed his robe and recapitulated: "Alright. Tomorrow, at dawn, in the courtyard: only our swords will talk. I think you're hoping your sword is mightier than your infamous silver tongue, but this won't help you. Your little family will be heartbroken."
Edmund smirked. The warlock would have never imagined his counterattack. "You won't be disappointed," he plainly retorted.
With that, the opponents parted in silence, the warlock tense in his anger and arrogance, the Just king steadfast in his honor and fairness.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
As always, Eryniel Alasse is a great editor and I'm very grateful to her for her help and advices!
A/N: dear readers, I fear you'll have to wait at least a week for the next chapter, since I'm leaving for my grandparents' and they don't have any Internet connections. Sorry. Thank you for reading my story and please, let me know your thoughts about it.
I hope this chapter is believable and enjoyable, let me know your thoughts about it.
Merry Christmas to everybody :)