Eh...Hullo! Um...really, I have no excuse. I can only fall on my face and beg your forgiveness for the inexcusable wait. Enjoy this installment, and I won't let such a dreadful length of time to go by again. If I can help it...
Othniel found her chatting with Queen Lucy as freely as though they had known one another all their lives.
"...and then Laus fell off and landed in the sheep pen. It had just rained, so you can imagine how Mother scolded him for mussing his holiday clothes!"
"Certainly! And I can guess that it cured him of showing off for a while too!" The queen added, laughing.
Othniel found himself laughing as well; the queen had a very infectious laugh.
"Now, Lord Jerime," Queen Lucy said, turning to him, "We have made the beds, and the poor people have all had a wash and gotten new clothes. I'm afraid some of the gentlemen will have to sleep on the floor, but we have made it as comfortable as we could. Fortunately, we have plenty of blankets."
The Queen turned to the former slaves and spoke a few words of welcome. It was a simple speech, with no pomp or ceremony, but merely a heartfelt, cheering reception. She assured them they were welcome at Cair Paravel for as long as they wanted to stay, and all assistance would be given them if they wished to go home.
After the speech Queen Lucy came towards Othniel. "Othniel, before you sleep, my brothers would like to speak with you. Lord Jerime will take you to them - they are in the small council room, Jerime - and I will join you all presently." She threw Othniel a reassuring smile and hurried out of the room.
Othniel looked around the cheerful room. Former slaves were contentedly pulling down covers and climbing into beds. He looked longingly at his bed, on the floor next to a big window, and with a sigh he waved goodbye to Calae and followed Lord Jerime out the door.
The Lord seemed to realize Othniel did not want to talk, and was quiet. As they halted outside the council room, however, he put his hand on Othniel's arm. "Othniel, the kings' first priority is to please Aslan, and their second Narnia's safety, but they will be just, and if it happens what you overheard was only a rumour, they will be glad you told them of it. Now, my friend, go in, and Aslan go with thee." And with that he knocked on the door.
A voice said, "Come in."
And drawing a deep breath, Othniel opened the door and stepped inside.
The room was arched with great, carved panels of wood; strange and awesome figures chasing each other around the room, over the high, arched ceiling, and disappearing abruptly at the floor, only to begin again at the other end of the room.
Many coloured tapestries depicting scenes from battles, harvests, and sieges hung on the walls, and two large windows were at one end of the room.
A curved table went round nearly all the room. There were chairs in which the few Humans sat, Centaurs stood around the table, some Animals sat on the table, and - Othniel blinked in surprise - a Bat hung above the table.
King Peter looked up from the papers in front of him. "Othniel, come and have a seat. Our brother Edmund has sent Siitl to check the position of the Calormen invaders, and they are less than a day and a half away. Othniel, we are in your debt."
To Othniel's complete shock, the King bowed. Hastily, Othniel stood and bowed back. "Your Majesty, it was my privilege to serve you. In truth, I think the gods ordered it so, for I have long wished to live in a place where it is not a crime to speak as you please, and help others without being mocked for't."
King Peter smiled. "Then we will consider the other's debt canceled, but if ever you have need of anything, it would be our honour to serve you."
Othniel bowed again in acknowledgement and sat again.
"Now, friends, " The High King said, "Thank you all for your help. We have a day to prepare for this invasion. They will attempt to dock tomorrow night, but we will be ready for them. You all know your places, so now to work. General, if you would stay a moment. You as well, Othniel."
After the others left, Queen Lucy came in with Calae.
King Edmund addressed Calae. "Lady Calae, some soldiers from an outpost further down the coast has apprehended some men who say they are the survivors of a wreak. My soldiers do not believe they are telling the truth, and, knowing your story, I asked my men to detain them until their story could be verified. I ask you now if you would be good enough to travel down the coast and identify them. Othniel, I wondered if you would accompany the Lady."
Othniel looked at Calae. Her eyes were shining. "Your Majesty, this is no task for me. I have heard wondrous things of your land, the opportunity to see more of it is a pleasure, no duty."
"Excellent. Othniel?"
"As the lady wishes." Othniel said with a smile for Calae. She flashed a quick smile back and turned to Queen Lucy. The two began chattering about what clothes Calae should take, and and what people to see, and what they must be sure and look for, and all the things that women do talk about on such occasions.
Othniel looked away from the ladies to the kings in time to see them exchange a most un-kingly eye roll, and he blinked in surprise. These Narnian monarchs were certainly...different.
Then King Peter said to him, "We will, of course, provide you with a map and guards. You have some skill with a blade, I think, friend?"
"Some, my lord, but my chief talent lies with knives. I had some of my own, but those pirates..."
The King Edmund nodded thoughtfully. "I have seen some of the Calormene tricks with knives - "
Othniel wondered, wincing, if the king been the attempted target of some of the more...unsavory ones. The Tisroc had dispatched at least eight foreign dignitaries that way, he knew.
"- and found them intensely interesting."
Othniel did not miss the word 'intensely'. He guessed he had been correct about the assassination attempts.
"We have a pair of Calormene knives in the armory if you would like to try them."
"Oh!" Othniel's hands clenched, remembering the feel of the cool, smooth grip of his knives. "Your majesty is too kind."
"Come," King Edmund said, clapping him on the shoulder, "I would count it a favour. They were a gift from the Tisroc, and I have long wondered if they are any good. Brother," he continued, turning to the High King, "as soon as there is a break in the ladies', ah, discussion, do tell them where we have gone."
Then Edmund led the way out, pretending not to notice Peter's highly disgruntled expression as he sank back in his chair, forced to wait until the ladies' chatter was concluded.
At the armoury King Edmund greeted the Faun at the door. "Good day, Master Retik, I wish to show Othniel here the knives we got from Calormen last Spring?"
The Faun bowed. "Ah, yes, your majesty, they are yet in the back room with the ornamental pieces, having never yet been tested."
"Excellent."
As Othniel followed the king further back into the cool building, he marveled at the sheer mass of the weaponry gathered here. And he did not doubt that they were all of the highest caliber.
"Here we are." The king said.
Othniel turned round to see a pair of knives in the king's hands. They were identical to Othniel's old ones, save an expensive looking ruby in the pommel of each. The leather wrapped handles matched the dark leather sheaths perfectly, and the belt was the same leather, except for a solid gold belt buckle, heavy, dark and plain.
It seemed an unusual gift for the Tisroc to give, a weapon that actually was useful. Usually if a country was not on the best of terms with another it did not give presents that could -potentially- injure their own men. "Were these truly from the Tisroc?" He asked, taking them carefully.
King Edmund arched one dark eyebrow. "By way of his ambassador, yes. Why do you ask?"
"Well, it just seems odd, because - " Othniel slid them smoothly out of their sheaths, twirled them around to get a sense of the balance and threw them deep into one of the dark wall posts. "-because these are excellent weapons. They have seen use, most probably by a Calormene Tarkaan. Why would the Tisroc give them to you instead of one of his Tarkaans or advisors?" He retrieved them from the post and slid them back into their sheaths.
"You bring up a good point." The king took out a small whistle and blew. No sound that Othniel could detect came from it, but almost immediately a small bat came swooping in to sit on the king's shoulder. The king whispered something, and the Bat ducked his head in a sort of bow and took off again. "I'll look into it. Again, my thanks."
"My honour, your majesty." He held the knives out to the king, hilt first. "The quality is excellent."
Edmund took them and then handed them back. "Keep them. As thanks from us all. I fear you will need them in the days ahead." He handed Othniel the belt and sheaths. "Use them only in defense of the weak and helpless, prey not on those less fortunate than yourself, and ever seek Aslan's will and blessing before you do battle."
Othniel bowed his head. "I will, my lord. Thank you."
"Ed! Cook says that if you don't come right away, she won't be able to keep Peter away from your raisin pies much longer!" Lucy, with Calae beside her, appeared in the doorway.
The king looked solemnly at Othniel. "Take my advice and never have a brother. They are forever eating your favourite pies."
Othniel stared, then began to laugh, "Your majesty, I think I am out of danger, but thank you for the warning."
Calae chimed in, "I can second that, Othniel. Edrian stole half my apple flan at lunch yesterday." She too was laughing. Then she caught sight of his knives and drew in a breath. "Oh! May I see?"
"You like knives, Lady Calae?" King Edmund asked.
"I used to sneak out with my brother's and practice throwing them." She smiled. "I like to think I attained some degree of proficiency."
Queen Lucy quietly moved from her place in the doorway, went over to the Red Dwarf polishing a knife and whispered something in his ear. He got up and they went out the door into a smaller room off the side.
"If you'll excuse me," King Edmund said, "I'm going to go rescue my pies from the voracious appitite of Narnia's High King. Othniel, Peter will want to talk to you before you leave tomorrow."
"Certainly, my lord." Othniel watched him leave, then turned to Calae, "Calae..."
She looked up. "Yes, Othniel?"
"I..." Why was his throat so dry all of a sudden? "I was wondering if you would - that is, I would like you to -" He took a deep breath. "The king has honoured me greatly by giving me these knives, but I would be more honoured if you were to belt them on me."
She looked at him, standing there awkwardly holding the belt in his hands, and swept him a deep curtsy. "My lord Othniel, I would be honoured."
"Thank you." Did she know, Othniel wondered, that in Calormen this was traditionally done by the soldier's wife or lover?
Calae glanced up at him as she knelt and fastened the belt around his waist. And the smile she gave him sent waves of red over his neck and ears. He had the feeling she knew.
"There." Calae stood and admired it. "It makes you look like a man. Almost." She gave him a teasing glance. "Now you just need a -"
"Calae," Queen Lucy interrupted, "this is for you." She held out a slender dagger in a sheath inlaid with silver.
"Oh!" Calae touched it almost reverently. "Is it really for me?"
"Absolutely!" The queen's face shone, and Othniel realized anew that these Narnians found astonishing joy in giving.
Calae turned to Othniel and said hesitantly, "I know it's only traditional for the women to do it for the men, but - would you?" She held out the sheath.
Othniel took it and knelt in front of her. "My lady Calae, it is my honour."
Aw! So we finally get some fluff. If you can call it that. I have no right to ask this...but...review?