By the time we returned to the camp, no one would have known that Lucy or I had been crying. We both knew the importance of appearing strong to our people especially when the situation was grim. Lucy made a slow review of the twenty-two soldiers remaining of the seventy-five that had set out with the kings and I only a few days before. To each one, she spoke words of comfort and encouragement, urging them to stand strong even as I had exhorted her. She rebound the wounds of many as well. I had already inspected our small contingent and knew what she would find but the honor of speaking to one of Narnia's sovereigns was enough to lift the hearts of even the most despondent soldier.
As we walked among the soldiers, a thick blanket of grey clouds drew over the lowering sun. It felt much later than the three hours after noon that it was. Swarms of gnats buzzed incessantly at our faces and necks. I set a satyr to fanning Peter to discourage the pests from landing on him.
When Lucy finished her review, we lifted Peter onto the stretcher Beniah and some others had cobbled together from branches and cloaks. Two satyrs carried him as we made our slow way back toward Cair Paravel. We did not march far that afternoon. The cordial could heal wounds but did not instantly rejuvenate energy and despite my long unconsciousness and later rest, I was exhausted after only a few hours. My soldiers too, were weary with sorrow and battle.
I called a halt about supper time and we ate what was left of the provisions we had carried with us. Lucy devoured the beef jerky and sweet biscuit—she probably had not eaten since she received the Stag's message.
A steady drizzle began at nightfall—or what we guessed was nightfall. It seemed fitting. Narnia should mourn for the loss of her king, not keep smiling as though all were well. With our limited supplies, we could do little by way of shelter from the wet but a few fauns rigged together a lean-to with branches and the tattered remnants of my cloak for Peter. Lucy alternated between huddling beneath it by her brother and pacing in front of the shelter. Finally, she curled up against her oldest brother and drifted off to sleep.
Weary as I was, I could not sleep. I made rounds, checking the sentries, ensuring that the wounded were still comfortable. When my steps grew unsteady, I sat against a tree and watched the vague shapes that were the camp, wrapping my arms about me to try to stay warm. After a little while, Achan came over and sat down beside me, saying nothing.
Doubts plagued me. I'd had no time to consider what had happened prior to the ambush, or even during it, since I woke. I was too busy to think about it. I wished quite heartily that that were still the case.
We had Tigers, Panthers, Dogs, and Wolves. We had Eagles and Gryphons. And Centaurs, Dwarves, Fauns, Satyrs, Boars, Monkeys, and a Gorilla. Most had far better ears and eyes than any human. Had we been so confident as to pass by signs that would have warned us? Or had our attackers been so clever as to be able to hide every sign of their presence? I could stand my own thoughts no longer and so turned to the silent dwarf at my side.
"What happened, Achan?"
"At the battle, sir?" the dwarf replied.
"Yes at the battle. What else would I be talking about?" I snapped. "Why didn't we have warning?"
Achan shrugged. "I don't know, sir. I expect we just got careless."
"And that carelessness nearly cost my king his life, Dwarf. It may have cost the other his."
"I'm sorry milord."
" 'Sorry' isn't good enough when my king's life is in danger." It was unreasonable of me and part of me knew it, but I needed someone, something, to lash out at right then and Jaerin was not available.
The dwarf stood up in a huff. "If that's how ye feel, my lord, perhaps you'd like to go back and start looking for him on your own. Good night."
Petulance does not become a knight and lord of Narnia but I stuck my tongue out at Achan's retreating back anyway. I was cold, exhausted, and worried beyond words. How could we not have known that the village was a trap? Why did I not know? Had Aslan given me some sign and I just ignored it? I tilted my head back against the tree.
"Oh, Aslan! Where did I gone wrong? What did I miss?" I had not felt such despair since the day we heard of Mother's death. It was crushing and I had no one beside me to bear me up. I bowed my head in grief and hugged my knees to my chest. "Let us find him, Aslan. Please."
I must have fallen asleep because the next thing I knew, someone was shaking my shoulder. Hard. Training took over and I grabbed the hand and jerked its owner to the ground. In seconds, I had the intruder pinned beneath me with my knife at his throat.
"What do you want?"
"Easy there. I thought your vision better than that."
The voice and face were that of my brother but my foggy mind could not comprehend it. I stumbled backward, staring at the apparition visible in the faint pre-dawn light. "Jaerin?"
"In the flesh, brother. Though very nearly not. You're faster than I thought." Jaerin sat up rubbing at his throat.
"How…?"
"Another Gryphon. Pair actually—Sunflight and Quivver took turns carrying me. Didn't Lucy tell you? She flew to you but I kept on. I wanted to check the battle site."
"She didn't. Ach, Jaerin! But I am glad to see you." I pulled my little brother to me in a tight embrace. He did not resist. Nearly squeezed the breath out of me actually. When we parted there were tears in his eyes. "What is it, Jaerin?"
He could not meet my eyes. "I was afraid we wouldn't be in time. When Chervy arrived with news that King Peter and another man were wounded in the forest, I...I made Lucy douse me with cordial so I could run again and went to the Gryphons. She wasn't far behind me."
"But you didn't stop at out camp." Perhaps my tone was more accusing than I intended because Jaerin winced.
"I know. I wanted to. Aslan knows how much I wanted too. But I saw you standing in the clearing and knew you were well enough. I knew that if you had been the one with Peter then something happened to Edmund. For the others' sake, I had to find out. So I flew on."
I tensed. "What did you find, Jaerin?"
"Jaerin!" Lucy's cry interrupted any reply my brother might have made. We both stood as our youngest queen ran toward us. She flung her arms around Jaerin in an enthusiastic hug. "I had not expected you so soon."
"Good morning to you too, Lucy." Jaerin extricated himself from her embrace and bowed, smirking the whole time.
"What news do you bring?"
Jaerin's smile vanished. "Naught good."
Lucy's whole body tensed. "Tell me everything."
"The village is gone. Nothing left of it but charred beams and piles of ashes. Whoever was there did their work thoroughly."
"And the rearguard?" Lucy's voice was tight.
"Dead. Almost to a man." Lucy went white and might have fainted but Jaerin reached out and caught her. "Wait. I said almost. They had set this a little apart from everything else, on a pole so we couldn't miss it."
Jaerin dug in his satchel and pulled out a helmet. A very familiar helmet. I did not need the elegant tracery along the rim to tell me to whom it belonged.
"Edmund," Lucy breathed. She reached out trembling hands to take the helmet from Jaerin.
"Aye, Queen Lucy. I think he is alive."
Lucy's face grew hard, hard as iron, and a flame lit in the depths of her eyes turning the brown to gold. "Then we will free him. Thank you, Jaerin." Wheeling about, our youngest queen marched off to the shelter where Peter still lay unconscious. Her knuckles were white where they gripped Edmund's helmet.
"I did not tell all," Jaerin murmured when she was out of earshot.
"What?" I turned back to face my brother. He was not looking at me but at some invisible point above Lucy's head. "What do you mean?"
Jaerin looked to me and I nearly gasped in shock. His eyes, usually so bright and full of joy were flat and empty. No merriment glimmered in their green depths, only fury the likes of which I had seen only once.
"They hewed them as they lay dead, Jaer. The raiders. They hacked the limbs from every Narnian and scattered them across the ashes of the dead town. And this was in the helmet."
He opened his clenched hand revealing a small tuft of dark hair. My breath came in a sharp hiss. "They dared…"
"They dared." Jaerin folded his hand closed again and stuffed the grisly memento into his satchel. "Edmund lives, but I do not think his life is guaranteed."
For a time, we stood there, my brother and I, silently vowing to do whatever it took to reclaim our friend and king. Slowly, I grew aware of a strange sound in the air and looked up to try to find its source. Jaerin was already watching through the branches, a feral grin on his face.
"What is it?" I demanded.
"The Host of Narnia. You didn't think we'd have to go all the way back to the Cair for them did you?"
A/N-My apologies for the long gap between updates. I decided I wanted to add some more to this chapter and it took me a lot longer than I expected to find the time to do so. Thank you for your patience!
