Stonewall
Make bright the arrows; gather the shields…Set up the standard upon the walls of Babylon, make the watch strong, set up the watchmen, prepare the ambushes...Thou art my battle axe and weapons of war: for with thee will I break in pieces the nations, and with thee will I destroy kingdoms…And with thee will I break in pieces the horse and his rider; and with thee will I break in pieces the chariot and his rider…
~Jeremiah 51:11-21 (KJV)
It was morning, misty, sparkling with dew. Peter had not slept the night before. He had been awake, staring down at the model of the battlefield. It was nearly morning when he had sent General Winston to relieve Martin.
It was morning when Martin came.
The generals were assembled in the war tent when Martin came; they never forgot the sight; his hollow eyes and look of pain. They sent him away to rest.
Peter looked down, then up again, his eyes mirroring the look that had been in Martin's.
"Gentlemen, please leave us." He said, his voice calm and level.
The generals looked at each other briefly, then fell back to the line of Elms to wait. Eustace hesitated, then stayed, watching Peter keenly.
"Edmund," Peter said, "I need someone I can trust. That hill, Beruna, needs to be taken, I want you to go, and I know they will follow you. I've thought about it all night and I think they are beyond following anyone else. But look at Martin! He's only a shell of what he was, I don't want that to happen to you."
"I'll go, Peter and gladly." Edmund said.
Peter bowed his head again then looked up at Edmund, wondering why he was asking a thirteen-year-old boy to fight a war.
"Good lad," Peter said almost hoarsely and took his brothers hand and squeezed it firmly. "You'll take Shard and Flavis with you."
Edmund almost smiled as he turned to leave. He strode away firmly, with measure to his step. Peter watched him go, it had been the same with Martin and he had come back beaten…
"Peter?"
Peter looked around to see Eustace leaning against a tent pole.
"You need to rest," Eustace said, "You've been up all night, it isn't humanly possible to lead an army without sleeping, you haven't slept all night."
"Neither has anyone else," Peter grunted. "I have work to do."
"I know," Eustace said quietly, "And you are the only one who can do it. You are the only one who is holding this show together. Peter, stop for a moment and think what would happen if you made a mistake or a bad decision because you couldn't think? This army needs you Peter."
Peter stared at him for a moment, a stubborn set to his jaw. Eustace stared back.
"All right," Peter said finally, half smiling, "You win, but I'll see Edmund off first."
~o*o~
Edmund was silent as he mounted Umbra. He nodded to the faun holding the horse's bridle and the latter turned Umbra loose.
Edmund let Umbra walk down the length of the battalion that would be his, as they stood in the grass, silver with dew. He could see their faces, set, some, almost proud. He saw Flavis and Shard looking at him calmly. Umbra arched his neck and stepped out pompously. Edmund watched the faces and they went by, almost not seeing them, yet seeing more than most. Then he paused his horse in the middle and turned to face them.
"Narnians," He said, loud enough that they all might hear, "we are going to Beruna. We must hold it and not let it go. The enemy will try to break our hold, but we will persevere. There is a great chance that some of us will not return, those of you who do not wish to go may stay, but I will go, even if I must defend it alone. Are you with me? Those of you, who are not, may leave at once."
They remained. They stood stiffly, staring ahead, military, no one moved.
Edmund breathed a sigh of relief, "Good," he said simply.
~o*o~
They went, moving quietly through the woods, over the ridge. Edmund felt nothing but the rhythm of Umbra's gait. He remembered Peter's face, his worry, the complete trust he had bestowed on Edmund.
It was going to be a hot day and Edmund looked up at the sun as it burned down on them, he could feel it already. He wondered just how he was going to go about defending the hill and decided to come up with it when the time came. At the moment, he hadn't the faintest idea.
Then they were on the hill.
It was smaller than he had thought, yet somehow almost larger. It was rocky, covered sparsely by trees near the bottom, but there were no trees at the very top, except for one sickly fir. There was hardly any underbrush, but there were boulders everywhere, the top was indented slightly, like a bowl.
"Shard," Edmund said, reining in Umbra.
"Yes, Sire?"
"I want you to take creatures and scout the hill. If the enemy comes from any angle, we must know."
Shard slipped away noiselessly.
"The rest of you," Edmund said, dismounting, "we are going to build ourselves a fort."
~o*o~
And they built it. Muscles cracked with effort as boulders were rolled into place, smaller stones filled in the cracks. The hawks circled overhead, scouting and calling their battle screams. The sun rose, higher, hotter, burning down on them. Sweat rolled freely.
Finally, the stone wall was completed and the archers found their places, bent their bows and tested the strings. Sheaves of arrows were handed out and the archers cut the thongs holding them, readying them for use.
Then they waited.
They knew the enemy would come, there was no doubt; but the waiting is always worse than the fighting and tension ran high. Edmund waited, standing; one hand on Umbra's saddle while the horse grazed. He wondered if he was worthy, capable of leading these soldiers wisely. Of course I'm not, he thought, I'm thirteen.
He watched a line of squirrels as they tested their strings; their bows were small, yet powerful, made of pulleys, never missing their marks. The centaur's bows were tall as a man, made of gleaming wood…
"Sire,"
Edmund looked down to see Shard.
"The enemy approaches."
"Thank you Shard," then louder, "Everybeast ready, wait until my command, then fire at your own will. We must not let them up here."
Then they saw the enemy, charging up the hill through the trees. Ugly things, horrible, werewolves, hags, Cyclops, ogres… even good beasts that had gone bad, centaurs, Minotaurs…closer and closer they came. Bodies shivered, arrows were fitted, bows were bent, anxious eyes turned to Edmund…and still he waited.
He was watching the lead minotaur; a great black beast with curving horns. His eyes gleamed red and at last Edmund lowered his hand.
"Loose your arrows!" he cried. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Flavis lean into his bow, muscles bulging. A great sheet of arrows ripped loose of the archers' bows and showered down on the horde. Beasts stopped in their tracks, transfixed. Then they returned fire.
Arrows rattled down around them and everyone leapt to protect the archers with shields. Edmund was among them, urging them on. They fired back, flights of arrows rattling down among the enemy.
It was horrible. Ugly faces coming closer and closer, yet they never came too close.
Then suddenly they watched in awe as the enemy retreated down the hill, disappearing among the trees. A great cheer rose from the Narnians. They had won.
"This time only," Edmund said, "They will be back!"
More arrows were distributed, the wounded and dead were dragged from the stone wall and the archers knelt again, ready.
And they came again, back up the hill. There almost seemed to be more than before, they seemed to be stronger. Again arrows flew, again creatures died. This attack lasted longer than the last. The Narnians were weary, but Edmund urged them on; they would not give up.
More sheaves of arrows were torn open and handed out. They were running low. Then, the last arrow was shot and the enemy retreated again.
"Next time they come," Edmund said to Flavis, yet loud enough for all to hear, "We will charge them. Can you distribute the spears?"
They the enemy approached again and Edmund watched them labor up the hill. He stood almost frozen, his hand on the hilt of his sword.
"Ready men?" He called, then drew Evyn with a flash and leaped forward, "Charge!"
For a moment, he felt that he was flying as he jumped off the top of the wall. He charged forward, sword upraised, the sound of his feet pounding in his ears. Then a bear came from behind him and leapt at a hag. To the right, his men were making contact, to the left they were driving them back.
They were following him!
He didn't have more than a moment to reflect on this remarkable information before he was swinging his blade with fury. It seemed to him that he was pushing on an open door and they continued to push until the enemy suddenly wavered…then fled.
The Narnians stood watching them go with wonder.
~o*o~
Yesterday was a collision, today was a day of offense.
Eustace and Susan were only able to get Peter to sleep for two hours before he was up again. He sent eagles out to Beruna and they returned, saying that a battle was being fought on the heights.
"They won a victory yesterday, keeping us here," Peter said, "we were only able to take the ridge below Wolf Hill, but they have stopped us in our tracks."
"What are you going to do, then?" Susan asked.
"Edmund on Beruna," Peter said quietly, "I know he'll stand fast, we're safe from attacks over there. They are attacking both our left and right flanks; I fear they may try to attack us here, in the middle, where we are weakest. But I won't worry about that until tomorrow. Today, they are too busy trying to defend Wolf Hill and take Beruna. I think if we hold today then we will have won the victory."
~o*o~
"Peter?" Susan pulled the tent flap open and cold night air whistled past her.
"Yes?" Peter looked up from a map.
Susan came in slowly and sat down in a chair.
"Peter," she said, "We can't leave Aslan's body all alone on that hill; I think we must bury it. Lucy and I are going over there in the morning."
"You're not." Peter said calmly.
"Why not?" Susan exclaimed, "He must be buried! You should agree with that!"
"I do," Peter said, "But I don't agree with you two going off and risking your necks over it. I'll send a party over there to bury him, I should have done it sooner, I know; but you'll not go with them."
Susan stood up, walked to the tent flap and looked back, "You will send someone?" she asked.
"Yes."
"Good." She slipped out of the tent.
"Susan!"
She looked back.
"Edmund's going to be back in camp tomorrow," Peter said, "I've sent a general to relieve him."