Chapter 10 The Other Side Of The Door
"Sons of Adam and Son of Earth," Aslan said to the boys and Trumpkin as the joyous sounds became slightly softer, or maybe it just seemed like the sounds became softer once Aslan spoke.
The boys and the dwarf turned to Aslan as he spoke although Trumpkin was shaking again.
"The Moon is setting and dawn is rising, we have little time. You must go quickly to the Mound. You will know what to do when you are there."
"We are going to be dealing with something ugly and possibly dangerous, right?" asked Ron.
Aslan said nothing, but looked straight at Ron.
"It isn't spiders, is it?" he asked weakly.
Aslan chuckled, "If spiders were awaiting you, I would give you a flyswatter, but you have swords. There is no need to fear spiders here."
Ron's face lit up with relief. And not a moment later he looked confused.
"Only Peter and Edmund have swords," he said.
"Are you sure?" asked Aslan.
"Ron, look!" Harry exclaimed happily.
Ron looked down and saw a sheath with a sword's hilt sticking out of it, hanging from his waist. Harry and Draco had swords as well hanging from their middle.
"That's so cool."
( )
It didn't take long before Peter, Edmund, Harry, Ron, Draco, and Trumpkin had made it to the Mound.
"Who goes there?" growled a deep voice.
"Trumpkin," said the dwarf, "bringing the High King Peter, King Edmund, and Knights of Narnia: Harry, Ron, and Draco from long long ago."
Without hesitating, two badgers suddenly came into view from within the shadows, their eyes wide, not with fear but excitement and wonder.
"Finally!" shouted the one who had spoken.
The two badgers kissed the hands of the children, their allegiance obvious.
"Would you hand us a torch, friends?" asked Trumpkin importantly.
"There is one just inside, and it's already lit," said the second badger, bowing low.
"Well, DLF, you'd better lead," Peter said.
"True, we know this place as well as we knew Hogwarts the first time we were there," Ron said.
"Yeah," Draco agreed with a smile. "It took forever to find our way anywhere but the great hall."
"And we only found that because the smell of the food was so good," Ron added.
Harry rolled his eyes, but Edmund laughed.
"You're just like King Caspian," Trumpkin muttered. "Always thinking with your stomachs."
They went under a small stone archway that led inside the Mound. Once in, Peter found the torch and handed it to Trumpkin. As they walked, Ron started clinging to Harry, and Draco started walking too close to Edmund.
"I thought Aslan said there were no spiders," Ron asked hoarsely.
"Yeah," agreed Draco with a small and high pitched sound.
"He never said there weren't any," Peter remembered. "He just said we weren't going to be facing them."
A little while later, the cobwebs lessened and the few bats that had been spooked by the light had flown away, Edmund and Harry noticed carvings on the walls.
"Wow, look at those," breathed Harry. "They look so old."
"And we're older than that," Edmund added in a whisper.
"We're thousands of years old and still good looking," Ron grinned.
"Well, some of us are still good looking, like me," Draco teased, "but you, Weasley, were never good looking."
"If you'd ever looked at a mirror, you'd know you look more like a ghost than a wizard," Ron shot back.
"And I'm still better at wizardry than you," Draco laughed.
The dwarf led them right, then left, down stairs, and left again. After a few moments, they all saw a small beam of light coming under a door. As they neared, they heard loud angry voices coming from the other side of the door. The voices were so loud that no one had heard the children's or the dwarf's approach, which had been echoing throughout the entire trip once in the Mound, since the Mound was pretty much a cave.
"This doesn't sound good," Trumpkin whispered to the five boys. "Maybe we should listen for a small bit."
Peter nodded and all six of them stood quietly at the door, listening.
"You know why the Horn wasn't blown at sunrise this morning," came a voice.
"That's King Caspian who is speaking," Trumpkin whispered.
"You do remember this morning, when Miraz and his army found us and for hours we were fighting for our very lives. I blew the Horn when I finally had the breath to do so."
"How can I forget how my dwarfs endured the worst of the battle? One in five of them died!
"That one's Nikabrik," Trumpkin whispered at the moment's silence that followed.
"How can you say that?" asked Trufflehunter (Trumpkin whispered the name). "We all did just as much as the Dwarfs but none of us did as much as our King."
"Remember it as you wish," Nikabrik stated dryly, "but whether the Horn was blown too late or didn't have magic, help as not arrived! You great clerk, you master magician, you know-all. You surely can't still be telling us to believe in this, to hope and wait for Aslan, King Peter, and all the rest?"
"High," Peter muttered to himself, "High King Peter."
"I won't lie. I'm disappointed that so far no help has shown itself to us."
Trumpkin whispered, "That's the King's tutor, Doctor Cornelius, the half dwarf."
"I'll make this as clear as day," Nikabrik snorted. "You've been found out, your hope diminished, your faith nothing but a fairy tale, your promises broken! That's why…"
"Help will come," finished Trufflehunter. "Be patient like us beasts. Help will come. I will always stand with Aslan, and Aslan said help will come. It may even now be at our door. All we have to do is open the door and let it in."
"Pah! You Badgers would have us wait till the stars fall out of the sky! We can't wait! Food is running too low, we lose more than we can endure with every opportunity, and our followers are rapidly decreasing."
"And why is that, I wonder?" snapped Trufflehunter. "Because someone has let slip that we have summoned the Kings of old and they have not answered. The last words Trumpkin said before he left, and almost most certainly to his death, was this: 'If you must blow the Horn, do not let the army know why you blew it or what you hoped from it.' But oddly enough, that same night the entire army seemed to know."
"You'd better challenge Miraz himself than suggest that I let this slip!" Nikabrik yelled. "You take it back or…"
"Stop it, the both of you!" yelled King Caspian in a strained voice. "I want to know what is being hinted by Nikabrik that we should do instead, but before that I want to know who those two creatures are that he has brought with him with their ears open and mouths shut."
"They are friends of mine!" Nikabrik shouted. "What right has you to be here except you're the friend of Trumpkin and the badger? And what right has the old gowned man to be here except he is your friend? Why am I the only one not allow to bring friends!"
"The King is the very majesty you have sworn your allegiance to."
"Manors, manors, Trufflehunter," Nikabrik started again, "but in this pit we can talk plain and simple. Unless we find a way to help this Telmarine boy, he will be the King of Nothing, King of Nobody, and that doesn't sound all that nice, now does it?"
"Perhaps your friends would like to speak for themselves?" Cornelius said. "You, who and what are you?"
"Worshipful Master Doctor," said a thin whiny voice. "So please you, I'm only a poor old woman, I am and very obliged by his Worshipful Dwarfship for his friendship, I'm sure. You have no need to fear me, majesty, bless your handsome face, a little old woman who is nearly crippled with rheumatics. I have poor little skill, not like yours, Master Doctor, of course, in small spells and cantrips I'd be glad to use against the enemy if all concerned is agreeable. For I hate 'em. Oh yes, none hate better than me."
"That is most interesting and, um, satisfactory," replied Doctor Cornelius. "I think I know what you are now, ma'am. Now, Nikabrik, I'm sure your other friend will give an account of himself."
A dull gray voice answered, making the skin of the children creep.
"I'm hunger. I'm thirst. Where I bite, I hold till I die and even after my death they must cut out my mouthful of my enemy's body and bury it with me. I can fast a hundred years and not die. I can lie a hundred years on the ice and not freeze. I can drink a river of blood and not burst. Show me your enemies."
"His friends must be Slytherins," Ron muttered.
"You filthy," Draco started to curse but Peter's glance stopped him.
"And it is with these two that you wish to tell your plan?" King Caspian asked.
"Yes," Nikabrik answered. "And it is with their help that I wish to perform it"
The boys and Trumpkin heard King Caspian, Trufflehunter, and the doctor Cornelius speak in low voices to each other for a minute or two. Then King Caspian cleared his voice.
"We will hear your plan, Nikabrik."
Nikabrik paused for so long that the boys and Trumpkin started to wonder if he would ever tell his plan.
Then in a low voice, as if he didn't want to say it, Nikabrik began.
"All said and done, no one knows the truth about the ancient days in Narnia. Trumpkin never believed the stories but I was willing to put them to the test. We first tried the Horn, but if there ever was a King Peter, ("High, High King Peter, Peter mumbled.) King Edmund, Queen Susan, Queen Lucy, and those Knights, either they did not hear, could not come, or are our enemies."
"Or they're on their way," added Trufflehunter.
"You can tell yourself that till the stars fall out of the sky. We have tried one link in the chain of old legends and it has failed us. When your sword breaks you draw your dagger, as the saying goes. The stories tell other powers besides the ancient Kings, Queens, and Knights of Narnia. What if we called them?"
"If you mean Aslan," Trufflehunter said stiffly, "it's one and the same calling the Kings, Queens, and Knights of Narnia. They were his servants. If he doesn't send them, which He will, will it be more likely that He will come Himself?"
"No, it is not more likely. You're right," Nikabrik agreed, "Aslan and the Kings go together. Either Aslan is dead or He is our enemy. Or something more powerful than Himself holds Him back. And even if He did come, how are we to know if he is friend or foe? He wasn't always a good friend to dwarfs as is told. Not even to all beasts. Just ask the Wolves. Besides, He has only been in Narnia once that I've been told and even then He didn't stay very long. Obviously, Aslan is not of whom I speak of. There is someone else."
A few moments of dead silence filled the air. Not even the listeners on the other side of the door made a sound.
Then King Caspian asked in a low voice, "Who are you thinking about, then?"
"I was thinking of a power that was so much greater than Aslan's that it held Narnia spellbound for years and years, if the stories are true."
"The White Witch!" three voices cried together in shock, leaping to their feet with thuds. It sounded as if a chair had fallen backwards as well.
"Yes," Nikabrik said slowly and specifically. "I mean the White Witch."
I watched HPDH Part 2, and tada! I finished another chapter. Tune in next time my internet is up and running for the eleventh chapter.
Courtesy of both C. S. Lewis and JKR