HOW THE MIGHTY HAVE FALLEN

Talia found Saedra in the gateway to Harden, playing with her hair nervously. The Duchess' cape flapped in the wind, loosely tied around her neck.

"Mum, I've been looking everywhere for you! It's time for dinner."

Saedra shook her head, starting to pace. "I want to be here when he gets back."

"The servants say the first frost will come in tonight. You should get inside," Talia pleaded. "You don't want to get sick now, not so close to the baby's arrival…"

Saedra stopped and stared at her fifteen-year-old daughter with tortured eyes. "Tal—do you think he left? Was the guilt too much for him?"

Talia shook her head as she came to her mother's side. "Mum, where would Uncle Edmund go? He's exiled himself from Narnia…We're all he has. He'll be back."

"It's been a week, Tal. A week! He was just going for a ride in the woods to get some air before the snow comes...Where is he?"

"He'll be back," Talia repeated fervently. "He wouldn't leave now. The baby's almost here!"

Saedra rubbed her face agitatedly. "I keep telling myself that Ed's fine…he knows how to take care of himself…but something's wrong, Tal. There's something strange going on: I just sense it!"

Talia tugged at the Duchess' arm. "The searchers will find him. Don't worry!" She steered her reluctant mother back toward the castle doors. "Now let's get you some food. Uncle Ed wouldn't want the baby starving, now, would he?"

They were about to enter the warmth of the castle when—

"Duchess!"

They wheeled around to see Talan leading a horse through the main gates. Saedra gripped Talia's arm as her face went pale. Talia instantly saw why Saedra had reacted so: the dark brown horse was Edmund's. Neither said a word as Talan strode to them; they watched his grim face apprehensively.

"What happened, Talan?" Saedra asked in a tight voice.

The stable-boy did a quick bow. "I...found the horse in the woods, my Lady."

Saedra gave a small gasp.

"Did you see Edmund?" Talia asked, putting her arm around her round mother.

"I didn't," Talan replied, his eyes sympathetic.

"This can't be happening," Saedra whispered, starting to shiver violently. "Not now. Not after everything…"

"I do bring news from Narnia, my Lady, but it's not happy news."

"What do we care of Narnia now?" Saedra snapped.

To Talia, those careless words were like a needle to the heart.

"It may have something to do with King Edmund," Talan said. Saedra stared at him silently, and he took that as permission to continue. "Your Ladyship's hus—I mean, the High King Peter—and his sisters seem to have Disappeared."

"Disappeared," Saedra repeated uncomprehendingly.

Talia was immobile.

"Yes, my Lady. Story is, they went out riding west chasing a stag of some sort and never came back."

"Never came back? What do you mean?" Talia demanded. She had been planning to visit her father for the winter after Saedra gave birth; she missed his smiling eyes and hearty laugh dearly.

"They dismounted near the Lamppost, and—"

"The Lamppost?" Saedra frowned.

"Aunt Lucy said it's where they came to Narnia from their own world," Talia explained quickly. Then it hit her: "Talan...they Disappeared near the Lamppost?"

"Yes, miss," he nodded. "They went into a thicket and never came out. Their Dumb Horses eventually made their way back to Cair Paravel. The Narnians have been searching for them ever since, but there's no trace of them: not a hair, not a piece of clothing, no tracks, no sign of a struggle."

Talia's stomach dropped. She stumbled backward, burdened with the comprehension that few others in the world had.

"Tal, what is it?" Saedra asked.

"They're gone," Talia gasped. "Father's gone, they're all gone!"

"But they might just be visiting the Bears or—"

"Mum, Aunt Lucy told me about the Lamppost. It's where they came from their own world to Narnia. I was asking her about their parents...Lucy and the rest appeared in Narnia by the Lamppost, and now they have Disappeared there as well! Mum, Aslan has taken them back to their own world!"

"But—but he can't do that!" Saedra exclaimed. "Narnia needs them."

Talan cleared his throat.

Saedra reeled on him. "What?"

"I don't mean any disrespect my Lady, but everyone knows that Cair Paravel is all a-jumbled. The rulers all bickering...they've been on the brink of civil war all summer. Maybe Aslan's doing them a favor..."

Saedra closed her eyes. "This is my fault," she gasped. "I did this!" She bent over, hiding her face in her hands. "And Ed's surely gone too!" Her back shook with silent sobs.

"Mum, you should get inside."

Saedra blocked Talia's attempts to help her. "No, no! Don't you see? I did this!" Her sobs impeded her breath, and she gasped for air, shaking her head wildly. She looked demented in her grief.

"My Lady—"

"Mum, please—"

Suddenly, Saedra cried out—a different cry. It wasn't a cry of anguish, it was pain. Physical pain. She clutched her stomach and screamed again.

"What's wrong?" Talan asked.

"I think she's having the baby!" Talia cried. "Go get help! I'll stay with her!"

Talia grabbed her tear-stained, swaying mother, praying that this time the birth would go well. For with all of Saedra's faults, Talia couldn't imagine life without her.

Her father Peter was gone forever; Saedra was all Talia had left now.

Saedra knew she was a bad mother. She had accepted that fact seven years ago when she had seen the devastated look on Talia's face when it was exposed to the world that Saedra had not been faithful to her husband. It was something she was resigned to.

Saedra was now grateful that Peter had separated her from her firstborn daughter Caulitha. At least that child could live away from the dark shadow that loomed over Saedra's life. Peter had been wise in ways that Saedra could appreciate years later, even though she had resented him at the time.

But Saedra could never forgive Aslan for healing her after her poisoning, allowing to have more children. If Saedra had never become pregnant with Edina, so many things would have been different. Peter would have never known she had been unfaithful. The Four wouldn't have Disappeared.

Saedra might even be happy right now, still Princess at Peter's side.

Instead, she was a shadow of her former self, aged beyond her years and unable to allow herself to be close to her daughters. Talia was more like a sister to Saedra at this point than anything, for she knew that Talia no longer held any respect for her...and probably—rightfully—hated her.

Saedra could barely look at Edina without thinking of Edmund.

Her youngest had been born on the very day that Saedra had found out that Edmund was gone forever. Each year, Edina's birthday marked one of the worst days in Saedra's life. When Mrs. Quigley had handed the newborn to Saedra, she had refused to look at it, refused to name it. It was Talia, who was in the place at Saedra's side where Edmund should have been, who announced the name for the baby that the lovers had picked out together.

And Edina looked like him. She had his dark eyes and his faint freckles. She had his mannerisms as well; she would tilt her head when in deep thought just the way he used to.

It was intolerable.

Saedra grabbed at the wine pitcher on her desk as she distracted herself with work, balancing the books. After pouring herself a full glass, she downed it without pausing for breath. She refilled the cup, but was annoyed that the pitcher emptied before the cup could be fully refilled.

"Tina!" she hollered, looking up from the desk. She was surprised to see that the study had become very dark without her noticing. She reached to light the lamp. "Tina!"

Saedra's assistant ran into the room. Her blonde hair was falling from its loose braid. She was the same age as Saedra, thirty-four, but could have passed for a decade younger.

"My Lady?"

"More wine," Saedra said, gesturing toward the empty iron jug.

Tina hesitated as she usually did. "Are you sure, my Lady?"

Saedra glared up at her, pleased to feel the wine she had downed was making her vision fuzzier. "More wine, Tina."

Tina nodded swiftly and came to remove the decanter. As she was leaving the room, Saedra called another order to her.

"And see that the girl gets to be bed, will you?"

Saedra didn't even look up to see Tina curtsey or shut the door behind her. The symbols on the parchment were becoming blessedly hard to understand, just the way she liked it. She leaned back in her chair and stared up at the dark ceiling.

She always thought of random memories when she came to this stage in her drunkenness. She would often replay happy moments from her life and giggle as if she didn't have a care in the world, or she would think of horrible memories and regrets and start weeping like a child.

Tonight she thought of Talia, who would have been the one to put "that girl" to bed, had she been here. Talia was back at Anvard, stuck in a castle with the man she pined for, without her friend Aravis to support her.

I did my best, Saedra consoled herself. I tried to get her to leave.

Saedra knew the pain of forbidden love more than anyone. She also knew that Talia had stayed only for Corin, even if Talia denied it.

Saedra was the only one who saw how dangerous the situation really was, for she did know the look of a man tortured with passion. Corin may not yet be "tortured with passion" on the level that Edmund had, but she knew that in a few years he would be. Saedra saw how he already ignored Cristabelle in a more disregarding way than Edmund had ever treated Rahai. She saw how his eyes lingered on Talia, showing that a brotherly love was evolving into much more.

It was why she had blatantly lied to Talia about Corin's feelings. She may be a bad mother, but she could still try to stop Talia from becoming the person both Talia and Saedra hated most: Saedra herself.

The door to the study opened, and the small figure of Edina slipped into the room.

"I told Tina to put you to bed," Saedra said, flicking her hand dismissively with annoyance.

"We're not going to bed tonight," Edina smiled.

Saedra sat up and studied the approaching girl. Saedra hadn't been as terrified of the child as Talia was. She wasn't even sure that Talia was right that Edina had killed King Lune. It was just too unbelievable—it was impossible! Edina often referred to herself as "we," but all children like their games, right?

"Is that a new dress?" Saedra asked, frowning at the green frock Edina wore.

"You like it?" Edina grinned. "We made it ourselves."

"You what? You don't know how to sew that well!"

The dark-haired girl smirked. "Part of me does. We found some cloth in the attic."

"What did you come for?" Saedra sighed. "It's late."

"What if we came to say goodnight to my mother?" she asked, raising her eyebrows.

"Uh...you never do that..."

"Because we know you don't want me to," she replied, her eyes creepily reflecting the green from her dress. "Saedra never wants to see Edina. Saedra's always too busy drinking to spend time with her innocent little girl."

Saedra unconsciously pulled back. Edina was directly across the desk from her, only her head and shoulders visible. Her eyes glowed unnaturally green.

"Maybe Talia was right about you," Saedra said fearfully. "Go to bed before I make you."

"I told you, Saedra, we're staying up tonight. Our friends are here."

"Friends?"

"Yes," Edina flushed with pleasure. She tilted her head as if listening for something. "In fact...they're in the castle right now."

"Who?" Saedra demanded. "Who's here?"

"Our friends."

Saedra jumped to her feet. "Who are your friends?"

Instead of being intimidated, Edina grinned. "You really are clueless, Saedra. You haven't even received word about the Telmarine attack at Anvard, have you?"

"T—Telmarine attack?"

"Oh, yes," Edina gloated calmly. "It's so coincidental that we killed Lune just before they arrived, isn't it? Anvard without their great leader...it's almost poetic..."

Saedra swallowed. "Ed—Edina," she stuttered, "how do you know these things? What's happened to you?"

"Finally managed to say my name, mm, Saedra?" she taunted. "Does the name remind you of someone else too much?"

"How do you know these things?" Saedra demanded again fearfully. "Who has been talking to you?"

"Someone who thinks that you're the best thing to happen to Narnia since her fall from power. Even she couldn't do what you did, getting rid of the Four…"

"This is a dream," Saedra whispered. "A dream! That's all it is…"

"Keep telling yourself that, Saedra," Edina said, backing towards the door. "It might make what's about to happen more bearable."

Suddenly, the door banged open. Numerous dark figures darted into the room, metal glinting from the light of the lone lamp. Saedra stumbled backwards, tripping on the corner of her chair. In seconds she was surrounded by men with faces darker than hers, scimitars at her throat.

"Don't kill her!" Edina ordered. "The First Wife wants her alive."

A man dressed in Calormene captain's regalia had stopped at Edina's side. He bowed to her shortly and asked, "This is the High King's wife that we were promised?"

"Yes," Edina confirmed, locking eyes with her mother. "That's Saedra."

"Bind her and bring her to the flagship," the captain ordered.

The men bound Saedra's hands behind her back and dragged her from the room into the hall beyond. The torches in the wall revealed several motionless bodies bleeding onto the old rug. Archenlander bodies. The distant sound of screams could be heard, which would be suddenly cut off.

They pulled her down the main stairway of the castle where Saedra had once fainted after her poisoning. Now there were bodies strewn about it, as if someone had called for help in the front foyer and people had rushed to see what the commotion was about. An iron decanter had spilled down the steps, and Saedra slipped in the wetness before she saw the blonde woman splayed out at an unnatural angle on the steps.

"Tina!" she screamed, before she was promptly cut off by a fist colliding with her jaw. Her mouth filled with blood, which she spat at the nearest Calormene soldier. Edina, who was walking with them, didn't react to the violence as if it was anything strange.

They went out of the castle into the frosty, dark, and empty marketplace. The castle guards' bodies littered the courtyard. Saedra seemed to be the only one left alive in the palace besides the invaders.

Aslan, she prayed, I know I don't talk to you much, but please, please let Father be all right!

Abrastan was her rock; he was the rock of the family, patiently reminding Saedra of her duties as a mother, even if she didn't do them very often. Without him, they were a mess.

We're already a mess.

As if conjured from her thoughts, her father's voice rang out behind them.

"Don't take her!" Abrastan yelled. "Take me instead!"

"Kill the old man," Edina ordered coldly.

"No, Father, go back!" Saedra yelled, but it was too late.

A soldier rushed at the hobbling old man, who was waving his old heavy scimitar. Abrastan had been a war hero of Calormen years back, but arthritis had made his limbs nearly useless. He managed to block a few blows before he was run through by the younger man, who had probably grown up hearing Abrastan's name and aspired to be as glorious as he had been. No one could have guessed that the foolish old man was famous in their land.

The old Tarkaan crumpled to the icy ground as Saedra stared in horror.

"Keep moving!" the captain ordered.

Saedra was jerked out onto the rocky, snowy hillside. She numbly cooperated as her thin slippers became soaked with snow as they stumbled down the steep slope behind the castle. Only the wine left in her kept her warm in the freezing night as the wind howled off of the river in front of them.

The score of soldiers stopped at the Winding Arrow River's edge, where the sandy, shallow delta lay. They splashed across it to the sea's edge, where several small boats awaited them. She looked left, out to the sea, and saw that a host of Calormene ships had gathered not far off land; the number and size rivaled Narnia's fleet during Peter's reign.

Saedra was tossed to the bottom of one of the rowboats; she gouged her eyebrow on the edge of a wooden seat, unable to stop her fall because of her bound hands.

As she lay in the bottom of the boat, she saw only the curved shoes of the soldiers, heard the order to push off, and felt the boat bobble though the choppy waters. The icy water that had gathered on the bottom of the boat soaked through her dress, making her shiver uncontrollably.

After an eternity, she was hauled up the side of a ship and unceremoniously thrown onto the deck. She lay there, feeling the wound above her eye ooze blood. She didn't bother to sit up. The only thing in her line of sight was the view of soldier's feet.

"Fetch the First Wife," an accented male voice ordered. "Tell her we have the High King's wife."

A pair of feet plodded off, and Saedra was hauled to a standing position. She looked around the deck. It was a beautiful ship in the dark, even if it was probably slower due to its boxy shape. It was lower to the water than Narnia ships, and had simpler rigging for the sails.

Soldiers surrounded her, leering at her in the darkness. She ignored them and glanced back towards Harden, high upon the cliffs next to the sea. She wondered what had happened to Edina.

The soldiers around her suddenly bowed as a light flashed in front of her; it was the opening and closing of a cabin door. A woman approached them. She was shorter than Saedra, but had the same dark coloring common of Calormenes. Her steps rustled with the sound of jewelry that hung from every available inch of skin. Her ornate clothing glistened with rubies in the moonlight. She had a young face beneath her makeup; she was perhaps Talia's age.

The woman stopped before Saedra, looking at her with a hard expression. She looked her up and down, then turned to the captain. "This is Saedra? This is an old sickly woman. Saedra is younger and fuller than this. You brought me the wrong person!"

"That's what...she...told us."

The First Wife studied Saedra again, recognition slowly entering her eyes. A malevolent smile grew on her face. "So, this is what has become of you, Saedra? Maybe I didn't need to go to all this trouble." She gripped Saedra's chin. "How the mighty have fallen!"

Saedra was utterly confused. She had no idea who the First Wife was or why she would specifically ask for her! "Do I know you?"

"You don't recognize me, do you?" the woman said, shaking her head. "More's the pity. Perhaps a few days in the brig will help jog your memory. Take her away."

Saedra was grabbed once more and pulled towards the doorway. She heard the woman's voice behind her.

"You know what to do, Captain?"

"I do."

"Good. Make her suffer—but make sure she survives. Vengeance is only sweet if you can see the face of the person who has wronged you."

"As you say, O First Wife."