Disclaimer: Peter and Edmund Pevensie and all the characters and situations in the Chronicles of Narnia belong to C. S. Lewis and not to me.
Chapter Seven
"And that's all?"
Lucy looked expectantly at Darreth, but he merely looked apologetic.
"The other lords, the ones who think we should separate from Narnia's rule, they've told me nothing more. They seem to be waiting for something."
"Waiting?" she asked, glancing at the Centaur who stood stone faced beside her with his brawny arms crossed over his chest. "Waiting for what?"
Darreth could only shrug. "They do not say, Queen Lucy. It seems likely they are waiting to see what happens in Narnia before they make any overt move."
Oreius narrowed his eyes, taking one intimidating step towards Darreth. "And you are certain these rebellious lords are not in league with those making mischief in Narnia?"
Lucy gave the Terebinthian Duke just the tiniest bit of an encouraging smile, and the uneasiness left his expression.
"No, General," he said, looking the Centaur in the face. "I cannot say I am certain, but I think it most likely. I know these men. They have no interest in Narnia except as it affects our own land. That does not mean they would hesitate even a moment to use Narnia's misfortunes to gain an advantage for themselves."
"No doubt." Oreius replied. "Then I suppose there is little we can do but wait."
"True." Darreth gave Lucy only the slightest of hopeful smiles. "But I trust your time here will not be unpleasant for all that. I thought perhaps– Uh, perhaps–" Reddening under Oreius's glare, he made a swift bow. "Perhaps I should tend to some pressing matters until luncheon is served. Until then, Your Majesty. General."
He scurried out of the room, and Lucy had to bite her lip to keep from laughing.
"That was very bad of you, Oreius."
The Centaur merely lifted one eyebrow. "How is that, My Queen? I neither said nor did anything untoward."
"And neither did he."
Oreius merely snorted, and now Lucy did laugh.
"At least he didn't sneak into my room again."
"A flagrant breech of security, not to mention protocol and decorum, is hardly a laughing matter, Your Majesty."
She sighed. "I know. I know. But everything is all right. You worry too much, especially about Lord Darreth. He would never hurt anyone."
The General's expression darkened. "After what happened to your brothers, My Queen, I am not as certain of that as you."
"That was years ago," she reminded him, taking his arm as she got up from the council table. "Since then–"
"My Lady! My Lady!" One of the castle pages, a lanky little boy of perhaps twelve, blustered into the room, his brown eyes enormous. "Please, My Lady, you must come to the courtyard. My Lord the Duke says you must come at once!"
Lucy gave Oreius a worried glance, and then they both hurried out into the corridor and down the wide steps that led out into the courtyard. There was a knot of ten or fifteen of Darreth's people, maids and grooms and the like, huddled around the Duke who knelt by something lying there in the grass.
"Darreth, what is it?"
Lucy put one hand to her mouth, faltering as she drew close enough to see. A glorious golden creature, half lion and half eagle, lay on his side fighting for breath, limp wings still outspread.
"My– My Queen," the Gryphon gasped. "Urgent. The High King–"
Lucy dropped to her knees beside Darreth, putting one soothing hand on the heaving side. "Shh, take a moment, Areli. Catch your breath."
"The High King?" Oreius urged. "What is it? What is your message?"
"The High King was–" Again the Gryphon gasped. "Attacked. Gravely injured. Flew two days to get– cordial. Urgent you–"
He convulsed, golden eyes rolling back in his head, and Lucy looked up at Oreius.
"My cordial. Now."
Oreius galloped back into the castle.
"You'll be all right, Areli," Lucy soothed, trying to make her expression reassuring and not panicked. "Hold on just another moment."
The Gryphon blinked at her, for a moment looking confused, and then he seemed to see her clearly again. "My Queen, you–" His beak opened wide as he again struggled to breathe. "Lady Linnet– Urgent. High King–"
The golden body convulsed once more and then was still.
"No," Lucy breathed, taking two handfuls of thick fur. "No, no, no."
Darreth looked at her, brow wrinkled. "What happened to him? I do not see any sign of injury."
"I don't know," she mourned. "He's been our swiftest messenger ever since we came to Cair Paravel. Even the Hawks can't fly so far and so fast. But now–"
"I have seen it before, My Queen."
Startled, Lucy looked up to see Oreius standing over her, the useless vial of cordial gleaming in his large hand.
"The journey was too much for him,. If he left Narnia but two days ago, he must have flown the whole while at top speed and without rest." There was pity in the Centaur's grave face. "I do not doubt his heart merely burst."
"Oh, Oreius." Tears filled Lucy's eyes. "No. No."
"For the sake of the High King, he did all he could to reach us and the cordial. And now–"
"And now he cannot take the cordial back." Lucy scrambled to her feet and took the vial from him. "We have to get home. Oreius, order the crew to prepare to set sail at once."
Darreth nodded in sympathy. "I will see your Gryphon is buried with all due respect."
"Thank you." She reached down to lay her hand on Areli's feathered head. "Aslan bring you safe to His country, faithful friend," she whispered, and then she stood straight again. "I'm sorry, Darreth, but we cannot wait even for the burial. We must go right now."
The Duke was immediately beside her. "Your Majesty–"
"I won't bother with my things. You can send them on later. Right now we have to get the Splendor Hyaline–"
"Queen Lucy–"
"–stocked for the return journey. Round up the crew from wherever they're idling. I think we–"
"Lucy!"
She finally stopped and looked at him, her lips pressed into a tight line and her eyes stinging with tears. "I don't have time to stop, Darreth. Peter might already–"
"I know." He took her hand, looking into her eyes as he did, his words low and calm. "I know. You cannot spare a moment. I just thought it might be faster if we commandeer one of the merchant ships that is already prepared to set sail. You and your General can leave right away. In the next few minutes. Your crew can bring your ship back to Narnia later."
She nodded, smiling faintly, and then threw herself into his arms, wanting to weep with relief. "That's brilliant. Oh, thank you. Thank you! Can you see to it for us?"
"Of course, Your Majesty. In fact–" He glanced at Oreius and then looked hopefully at Lucy. "I thought I might go along with you. If there's any way I can be of help, to your brothers I mean, it is certainly the least I could do."
"Yes!" She gave him a tight hug and then darted away. "I'll just grab a few things I need. Oreius, help him make arrangements about the ship."
As she scurried up to the chamber she had been using, she didn't have time to worry about what Oreius thought about their plans. Darreth would best know how to handle Terebinthian merchants and their crews and get her back to Peter as quickly as possible. Gravely injured, Areli had said. And what had he meant to tell them about Linnet? Poor thing, she and Susan must be frantic by now. And Edmund.
A certain cold satisfaction filtered into her. Aslan have mercy on whomever had done this to Peter, for Edmund surely would not. Whether he took the entire army or hunted them down alone, there would be no escape for them.
"Aslan," she murmured as she stuffed some traveling clothes and other necessaries into a bag, "be with my brothers. Don't let Peter die before I can get home, and please, please, don't let Edmund do anything stupid trying to track down whoever did this to him. Dear Aslan, give him strength and wisdom. And please help Susan and Linnet not to worry too much." She blinked hard. "And me, too."
Areli had left Cair Paravel two days ago. Winds with them, it would be another ten at least before they got home. By then, Peter could be–
No, she wouldn't think that. Not now. Not yet. He had been alive when the Gryphon left Narnia. He would be alive when Lucy got back. He had to be.
OOOOO
Linnet's eyes fluttered open. She had fallen asleep again, lulled by the heat and the rocking motion of the cart, but it was cooler now, dark from what little she could tell, and the cart had stopped. Night again? How long had it been? She didn't know. It seemed she had never done anything but lie in this musty straw, limbs aching, throat dry, stomach cramped with hunger, and remember her last sight of Peter as he disappeared into the sea.
Aslan, she begged for what must be the thousandth time, don't let him be dead. Please, don't let him be dead. Let him come for me. Help me find a way out. Please, Aslan, please.
The gag muffled her gasp when the heavy cloth covering the cart was pulled aside. Argyrus was smiling down on her, his silver eyes gleaming in the flickering firelight.
"Good evening, My Lady. I was wondering if you would care to join me for dinner."
Her empty stomach growled in answer, and he chuckled.
"Shall I take that as a yes? Truly, I am honored."
He made an elegant bow and then nodded to someone she could not see. Brawny arms reached over the side of the cart and lifted her out. It was one of the Centaurs, the one whose tail and hair and beard were an inky black along with his smoldering eyes. He set her down on a blanket next to the fire, and she realized they were in a cave of some sort. The other Centaur stood glaring down at her. He was blue eyed and fair haired, but his look of disdain was a mirror of the first's.
She saw no sign of the Lizard, but the Satyr squatted by the fire, stirring something in a bubbling pot while the Wolverine finished ripping the skin from a brace of rabbits. Whatever they were cooking, she wasn't sure she could keep it down.
Argyrus dropped to one knee beside her. "It will be quite difficult for you to eat, My Lady, with this gag still on. If you will promise to keep quiet, I will be happy to remove it."
She considered refusal, but there was a bucket of water not three feet away from her. Oh, just a taste–
She nodded swiftly, and he removed the cloth.
Immediately, she licked her dry lips. "Water. Please."
"As you will, My Lady." He picked up the dipper and held it to her mouth. "Ah, ah, ah, not too quickly. No use having it all back again."
She gulped it down anyway, half-sobbing with relief, and then he set down the dipper.
"Now, as delighted as I would be to feed you myself, dear lady, I feel even you are not used to such pampering. If I unbind your hands, do not make me regret doing so, am I understood?"
He smiled as he said it, but the warning was not lost on her. Again she nodded.
He took out a long, wicked-looking blade and cut the ropes at her wrists and ankles. Almost immediately, the numbness turned to painful tingling as the blood rushed back into her hands and feet. She managed to sit up, her eyes fixed on the half-Dru, but she said nothing.
"Very good," he said. "And very wise. You will find that, if you cooperate, things need not be so bad for you. We have no desire to harm you, Valiant Queen Lucy."
Author's Note: Ummmm . . . who? I'd love to hear your thoughts.
