Disclaimer: I don't own Narnia or any characters you may recognize from the books or the movies, I wish I did but I don't...
Summary: The Four have fought for almost three years to remove the scars Jadis left on Narnia. Now the time has come for Narnia to look beyond her own borders. An Archenlandish lord brings warning of rebellion. But who among men can be trusted?
Chapter Six
"Lucy, be careful!"
The younger of the queens showed no fear as she peered down from the tree, smiling widely. "I am, Susan. I just need to help Tiffany get down." Then she disappeared from sight.
He watched as the Gentle paced beneath the tree until her sister swung down and dropped with a giggle. She turned to reveal a fluffy kitten cradled in the crook of one arm. The Queens cooed over the little beast and then sent her off.
The sisters looked around but they did not see him hidden in the shadows. Then the fair-haired child tugged on her sister's silk sleeve. "Susan, did we get a message yet?"
"Not yet. But hopefully we will hear something by . . . we will hear something soon." The elder Queen rested a slender hand on Queen Lucy's shoulder. "Come on, we still have our history lesson to attend before luncheon and then we must hold court until teatime."
"Oh! I almost forgot. I should invite Mr. Tumnus. Oh and Mr. and Mrs. Snickett just came back from their honeymoon and they're the sweetest Otters I know other than Gertrude. We can invite her too and . . ."
The bright chatter faded as the Queens vanished down the path leading toward the palace. Perhaps he should catch up to them, make his presence known. It was possible that if he did, the Queen Lucy would invite him to tea and then he might find a way to get closer to the Queens. Queen Susan was looking remarkably-
"Why have you been spying on the Queens?"
He turned to see the General glaring at him. Lord Armin bowed slightly. "I was not spying. I thought Queen Lucy might be in distress based on the Gentle's calls but when it was clear neither lady was in distress, I merely thought to seize the opportunity to observe them."
The sound of running steps reached his ears and he looked around to the Gentle racing back into the garden, her long black hair flaring behind her. She went to the little stone bench where she had been sitting before her sister vanished up a tree in search of the kitten. Armin watched as she walked around the bench then crouched, her lilac purple skirts spreading in a circle as she searched under some rose bushes.
"Why?"
He did not look away from the Gentle as he answered in a low voice, "I was admiring the elder queen. She is very beautiful."
Queen Susan rose with a book and a pair of slippers in hand but that was all he saw before he was slammed against the garden wall. The General had his tunic in his fists and raised him with hardly any effort so they were face to face and Armin's boots dangled in the air. Dark eyes flashed and an expression of pure fury appeared as the Centaur growled, "The Queens accept no suitors. The Gentle is not of age. You will not pursue her. If you cause her unease, I will do no less than the Kings would and escort you from Cair Paravel at the point of my sword. If you attempt to force your attentions on her, I will break your neck."
The Centaur abruptly stepped back, allowing Armin to drop. The fury was masked by an impassive expression but his voice was cold as he added, "You will remember, Sir, that the Gentle is not of age."
Armin straightened his tunic then shrugged. "Perhaps that would deter suitors of commoners but royals are betrothed early, some even in their cradles, and my understanding is that though the Gentle is fifteen, she will be of age in less than a year's time." He brushed at his sleeve as he added, "And the Queen Susan looks of age. Her looks will matter to many of her hopeful suitors far more than the technicality of age, especially since she is of childbearing age already."
He bowed his head once to the General, ignoring the black look he received, and then he strolled away.
OOOOOOO
The audacity of that Archenlandish lord galled Oreius. He glared out across the sea, recalling again the words the man had tossed about so carelessly about the Queen Susan. Two fillies, still foals like their brothers, who had neither sire nor dam to protect them from the unscrupulous lords who sought child brides and thought to use them for their own ends. And at the moment, the fillies did not even have their brothers to look after them. But they had him.
Oreius stamped a hoof. He would no more leave his fillies unprotected than he would his colts. He looked at the Cair, gleaming beneath the moonlight. He would need to put another safeguard in place. Someone who could watch over the Queens when he could not, someone who would not hesitate to send for aid while also defending the fillies and who would keep him fully informed.
He knew just the mare. Oreius galloped back to the Cair, slowing his pace to a more measured walk as he entered the gates then made his way to the archery field. There were several Centauresses gathered in a knot watching as one of their number practiced. The archers' attention immediately turned to him but he passed them, ignoring their giggles and several hopeful looks they cast toward him. He was not here for pleasure or to seek a filly out to court.
He flicked his tail in mild agitation at the unprofessional behavior his archers displayed but he put it from his mind when he saw her at the far end of the archery range. The nearest torches had been doused as the Centauress raised her bow then loosed the arrow. It hit the center of the target.
"Lady Nephele."
She startled, emerald eyes wide and questioning as she looked around at him, and then she approached him cautiously. "General Oreius? Is something wrong, Sir? With the transcription for this morn's meeting I provided? If there is, I have another copy I can give you."
Oreius raised a hand. "No. Your scribe's work is as exemplary as ever. However, there is a favor I would ask of you, Lady."
Wariness entered the mare's gaze and she shifted on her hooves uncertainly. "A favor, General?"
He nodded then glanced at where the other archers were gossiping and lowered his voice. "You were at the meeting with Lord Armin. I need you to stay close to the Queens, be with them when and where I cannot. Do not let Lord Armin be alone with them, especially the Gentle."
Protective rage replaced wariness as she looked up sharply at him, her pale hair looking like a white fall of snow beneath the moonlight. "He threatened her?"
"He has expressed an interest in her. I fear he might attempt to press a suit upon her given the opportunity."
Nephele wrinkled her nose. "He shan't have one then." She gave him a curious look. "General Oreius, may I ask why me? I am more scribe than archer now. Perhaps Artemis or Merrywithers would be better choices. They are among the most skilled archers in the army."
"They are but I need you because of the second task. I want you to make a record of everything Lord Armin says and does in the presence of the Queens and anywhere else you might observe him. I want a nightly report. And a scribe constantly with the Queens will rouse less belligerence in the man."
The filly laughed softly. "I see. But, Lord Armin has made it plain that he does not trust scribes and he certainly does not approve me." She looked down as she added in a whisper, "I fear he will be guarded around me and I will not be able to help the Queens after all."
Oreius gently rested a hand on her shoulder. "Nephele, I trust you and our Queens are very fond of you. I do not wish to alarm them unnecessarily, which is another reason your presence will be of great help. Do what you can. If Lord Armin guards his words and actions when you are there, then you still protect the Queens by keeping him from being over-bold."
She raised her head, a question in her emerald eyes but she did not ask it. Instead, she nodded. "I will do it. All of it, Sir. You will have your first report tomorrow night." Nephele glanced beyond him and grimaced a little. "Though I fear I have exposed you to more gossip than usual, General."
"It is of no matter. I thank you for your help, Lady Nephele." Oreius bowed slightly then left the archery range, ignoring the way the Centauresses at the other end (whose numbers seemed to have grown) watched him as their flurry of whispers fell silent before reviving as soon as they trusted he was out of hearing. Nephele would not fail him. He knew she loved the Four as much as he did.
OOOOOOO
A/N: Please Read and Review! I hope y'all enjoy this bonus chapter. Leave a review and let me know what y'all think of this one.