Chapter 3: Chill Air

The next day was spent in peaceful quiet—the kind where no one feels obligation to speak even. Aravis had forgotten this was what a person could expect from visiting Torlian. Though he was an excellent and most gracious host, she was soon eager to return to Anvard, if for no other reason than to have activity bustling around her once again. She had grown accustomed to Corin's loud and raucous behavior and the visits to and from Narnia to visit with her dear friend, Queen Lucy. Staying here with the hermit was nice… but Aravis was restless, and longed for home. She especially looked forward to it, seeing as in a few weeks she would leave it for Calormen. Lucy, her brothers, and sister would not be accompanying them on this trip, a shame Aravis thought, for she and Lucy had become fast friends. Still, she would be visiting her friend soon, as they were to leave for Calormen from Cair Paravel's port on one of Narnia's ships.

Aravis couldn't imagine a voyage to Tashbaan with Cor… then again, Corin would be with them, so it wasn't completely alone.

"You seem to be lost in thought," said Cor pleasantly. Aravis turned and saw him walking out onto the grass in bare feet, and approach her where she was sitting under a large willow.

"I'd forgotten how peaceful it is here," she said truthfully enough. "Will you never get used to shoes, Prince?"

Cor looked down at his feet, and then chuckled. "I lived without them for fourteen years," he said. "Before father found me. I still love the feel of the grass… the sand... It's one of the main reasons I love it here."

"There's grass at Anvard," said Aravis.

"Yes," said Cor, "But there's also the tilt yard, and chivalry, and all the things I must still learn to be king one day. No walking barefoot at Anvard… but here, Torlian doesn't even own shoes, I think." Cor took a deep breath and sighed. "I still feel like a little boy in rags sometimes, Aravis."

"Well, when the time comes, you'll be more than ready," said Aravis. "And just think… you can create a national holiday commanding that everyone walk barefoot."

Cor laughed and said, "You know, I think I will." An easy silence settled between them, neither felt the need to speak, for both were enjoying the fine spring morning. "Still, perhaps we should return to Anvard today…"

"I suppose," said Aravis.

"I know it's only been one day since we came… but, well… duty calls. And perhaps we can go a little early to Narnia, so that you can visit Lucy."

"That would be wonderful," said Aravis, and after a few moments, she added, "Don't worry, Cor. You will do well, I'm certain."

"But how can you be certain?" asked Cor. "Sword fights and history and mathematics are all very well, but they don't make a king. Even learning policy doesn't do that."

Aravis shrugged. "You saved Archenland and Narnia when you were a boy. You saved my life by charging a lion…"

"A lion who wasn't going to kill you anyway," Cor clarified.

"It doesn't make it any less brave or important," said Aravis. "You didn't know he was safe at the time."

"Surely you don't mean safe?" asked Cor with a half-smile.

"No," said Aravis, nodding. "Not safe… we all know the Lion is not safe. But… oh, you know what I mean."

"Yes, I do," said Cor. "But does that make a king?"

"You father seems to think so…"

"Oh… father…"

"When I took my leave he was joyous, Cor."

"Joyous and hearty are two different things," said the prince. "He's failing fast. He's not coming to Tashbaan because he's afraid the voyage will…"

"He's stronger than he looks," said Aravis. "Your father isn't going anywhere too soon."

"Hard luck not knowing him until four years ago," said Cor. "Might have been nice to grow up with a father."

"Wasn't that nice for me," said Aravis.

"Sorry… I didn't mean—"

"It's fine," said Aravis. "I wonder, do you think we really will meet him in Tashbaan? He doesn't live there, but I'm certain he'll be there for the coronation."

"Can't say," said Cor. "But I promise… he will not touch you."

Aravis was pleased by the way he spoke these words, but did not reply, for at that moment, Torlian came out with both their horses, saddled and bridled. "I had a feeling you'd be leaving this morning," said Torlian. "I've packed a light lunch for you."

Aravis and Cor took the horses and mounted. "We will visit again soon, Torlian," said Aravis.

"Together," said Cor. "I really do wish you'd take an escort when riding, Aravis."

"I really do wish you'd stop nagging me about it," said Aravis, and smiling at Torlian, she kicked her horse into a gallop. "Besides," she called to Cor, who was soon riding alongside her. "You're with me, and that's escort enough, I should think."

"That's not what I mean," called Cor. "What about the way down here?"

Aravis laughed and spurred her horse faster. Soon they were racing at top speed through the pines and oaks and willows, along the Winding Arrow, and at one point crossing it, splashing through the shallow water of the river, and on to the path through the forest that led northward, to Anvard.

A usual ride to visit Torlian took two hours or more, but since they galloped nearly a third of the way back home, they decided to take a break for lunch, and allow the horses to rest for a while. Thunderheads from the North East gathered over the mountains, threatening an ominous storm to come shortly before they'd finished eating. "That's not a pretty sight," said Cor.

"I love the rain," said Aravis.

"As do I," said Cor, "But this will be no simple rain. Perhaps we should mount up and ride for Anvard."

"If you think it best," said Aravis. "We can't outride it whatever we do, because to spare the horses, it will take at least two more hours to return."

As they mounted their horses, the sky thundered above, rolling across the heavens like a drum roll on a tympani. Rain followed then, like a curtain it swept over the land, showering the riders as they raced for home. In moments they were soaked to the skin, and the air was chill as it can only be in the early springtime. Aravis bent low on her horse's back, drawing the hood of her cloak over her head, but it didn't help keep the rain at bay. The horses were exhausted, and neither could keep up a relentless gallop, so soon they rode at a walk, the wind whipping rain in their faces. "Lovely afternoon," said Cor with sarcasm.

"I suppose we might have asked Torlian to tell us what the weather would be like for riding home," said Aravis shortly.

"I'd think he'd know to look though, wouldn't he?"

"He probably didn't expect us to take an hour long rest," said Aravis. Drawing her damp cloak about her more closely, she shivered from the cold of the afternoon."

"Ah, just think of how hot we'd be in Calormen right now," said Cor. "At least we're not trekking through the desert again, eh?"

"Indeed," Aravis agreed. "That was not one of my favorite days. But I wouldn't say no to a cool breezy room in one of Tashbaan's palaces…"

"Are you serious?" asked Cor.

"No," said Aravis. "I'm not serious. I don't really want to go to Tashbaan either, Cor."

"Then why have you made it such a point to go?" asked Cor.

"It was at the request of your father," said Aravis. "It is at his mercy that I have a home in Anvard. I would not readily refuse him. And he is king, after all…"

Cor laughed lightly. "Does that mean when I'm king you'll do as I say? For instance… like taking an escort with you when you ride somewhere?"

Aravis glanced at Cor's face, his soaked curls that framed it, his cold white cheeks and impossibly red lips. He was smiling… jesting with her. And something made Aravis say back, "Well… you're not king yet," then she spurred her horse back into a gallop.

Aravis knew Cor would follow her, but she did not slow her pace. On she rode, faster and faster, over logs and under branches—almost too fast even for her to be comfortable.

Suddenly, there was a terrible moment—which can happen to even the most splendid riders—where Aravis saw something out of the corner of her eye, and it momentarily distracted her. Looking front again, it was too late before she ran headlong into a long, full, branch. It struck her, and though it did not hurt much, she lost her balance and was jerked from her horse, left hanging on the branch.

She grasped at it, knowing she was about to fall to the ground, and then she did fall, twisting her ankle and sitting immediately on the ground. The pain in her leg was blinding; she'd heard a popping sound, and she feared she'd broken it. Her horse, who'd been thoroughly spooked, bolded off into the distance, leaving Aravis alone. It was not seconds later that Cor was at her side, helping her stand again. "Beastly animal," said Aravis, and added several curses she would not normally say.

"Careful now," said Cor, "I don't suppose you can put any weight on it?"

Aravis tried to stand on her injured ankle and let out a soft gasp of pain. "No," she said.

"You can't ride then," said Cor. "Well… Can you sit side-saddle on my horse? I'll walk."

"There's no need to walk," said Aravis. "We'll get home faster if you ride as well. I'll just…"

"Let me think," said Cor. He looked around, as though the act of doing so would give him an idea then he said, "Very well, ride with me. Up you go." Cor stepped up to her, placed hands upon her waist and very easily lifted her into the saddle. Aravis was surprised at his strength—of course she'd seen him fight, so it shouldn't be that shocking, but to lift her so easily was not a little alarming.

As quick as thought, he stepped into the stirrup and mounted behind Aravis, reached around her and grasped the reins.

They rode slowly, though faster than they would if he'd been walking, and the clouds were thick. Aravis could tell, however, that the day itself was waning, and the clouds would not remain the sole reason for the darkness. Soon, the only light would be the moon, which was in her full this time of month. The rain lessened somewhat, and became a drizzle, but the evening was as chill as ever. Cor was warm at Aravis' back. At first, she'd avoided sitting too close, with her back to him, but she soon found it difficult to keep space between them. Without warning, Cor placed one arm around her waist and pulled her toward him, saying, "Believe me, it will be warmer this way, and much more comfortable for us both."

So Aravis leaned against him, and indeed he was right. She became so comfortable that she almost fell asleep several times. Even the pain of her ankle lessened, though she was not sure if it was genuinely healing, or simply the close proximity of Cor. Once, when she nearly fell asleep, she jerked awake, afraid she might fall from the horse. Cor laughed lightly, but held her firmly around the middle, and said, "Go ahead and sleep. Trust me; I will not let you fall." After his words, Aravis could not sleep, for he held her still, his hand flat against her stomach, and the pressure, though not unpleasant, was too distracting to ignore. Every part of her was aware of him, not only the feeling of his strength at her back and his arm around her, but the sound of his breathing, the warmth of it on her ear, the scent of him, a northern scent that brought such wonderful memories to her.

It was full night when they finally arrived at the stables of Anvard. Prince Corin came out to them at a run, and even King Lune, as ill as he was, ambled outside as Cor dismounted and lifted Aravis from the saddle. "We saw your horse," said Corin, his face very pale. "And thought the worst. He came only five minutes ago. I was just about to ride out and find you."

"All is well," said Aravis. "I'm perfectly all right."

"You're foot, my dear," said King Lune.

"It will be set right soon," said Cor. "We only need to wrap it tightly—but make haste. She needs to get warm and dry—Aravis, you're shaking."

"I'm fine," Aravis protested, but her teeth were chattering. When she'd been sitting on the horse with Cor, he'd kept her warm, not to mention kept her mind off the fact that she was wet, but now, the night air and breeze went through her, and she was very ready to go inside.

A fuss was made of her by various servants, and soon she was brought into her own chamber, a steaming bath prepared by a glorious fire, with a promise of supper following. After bathing and dressing, someone came in to wrap her foot tightly in a bandage. It was swollen, but apparently it was only a bad sprain, nothing broken. Relieved, she said she wished to join the others for supper, and someone helped her to descend the stairs. She found King Lune, Cor, and Corin seated in the dining hall, in the midst of a bounteous meal. Cor immediately stood and came to her side. "You are well, I trust?" he asked.

"Yes," said Aravis, though her voice was low and nasally, and her throat a bit sore.

"You've taken a cold," said Cor, politely ushering her to a chair, taking care that she should not hurt her foot any more.

"Not bad," said Aravis, sitting. She looked into the concerned faces of the King and Corin, and said, "Seriously. Though… I may have strong words with that horse."

"I could box it," said Corin, and everyone laughed.

"Well," said King Lune, "And how is the good Torlian?"

"Very well, father," said Cor.

"Splendid," said Lune. "And you will soon leave for Narnia, and then Calormen?"

"Yes," said Cor, and Aravis could tell by the way he spoke that he was resigned, and did not wish to argue the point.

"I say," said Corin, "It will be quite a sport to travel all that way in a Narnian ship—I've not been in years."

"Nor have I," said Cor. He did not add, Aravis noted, that he wished not to have to go even now.

The meal was quiet, as suppers at Anvard usually went, and Aravis knew it was partly because of Cor's ire about having to travel to Tashbaan, and partly it was their collective concern for the King's health. He was the first to retire that evening, and he needed assistance to walk to his chamber.

"I'm surprised father doesn't spend all of his time in bed these days," said Prince Corin, taking a long draught of ale from a goblet.

"He's perfectly able to come down to supper," said Cor, a little shortly.

There was an uncomfortable silence, and Aravis noted a tangible discomfort in the air.

"Father… won't live forever, Cor," said Corin at last.

Cor pounded the table and stood, turned then taking a deep breath, he said, "He's not dying, brother." Looking to Aravis, he said, "Good night, my lady." Cor turned and stomped away toward his chamber.

Corin shrugged, and taking an overly large bite of pheasant, he said, "That man needs to take hold of reality."