Author's Note: Takes place between the last two scenes in chapter ten.

Chapter Eleven: Sacrifice

Edmund waited until he heard Peter's breathing even out, steady as he slept. Then, stealthily, he slipped out of bed, pulling his boots on and creeping out of the tent they shared. He left his sword and armor behind; he wouldn't need it where he was going.

Blinking in the moonlight, he gazed out at the camp, and wondered if he was doing the right thing.

'Of course I am,' he thought, a second later. 'I can't let anything happen to Narnia because I was a traitor. I just can't.'

Hearing shifting rock behind him, he whirled in surprise to see Lucy coming up behind him.

"Couldn't sleep?" his younger sister asked.

"I'm just out for a little walk," Edmund lied.

"Can I come with you?" Lucy asked. "I can't sleep, either."

Edmund froze at her words, the simple request making more of an impact on him than the Witch ever could. He couldn't have her, couldn't have any of his family, finding out what he was going to do. And he didn't want her anywhere near the Stone Table. But, she was still looking at him expectantly, and it had been a long time since he'd been able to refuse her anything.

"Where would you care to go, my lady?" he asked with exaggerated gallantry, holding his arm out to her.

"I wanted to go see the cliffs that overlook Cair Paravel, again," Lucy said, tucking her hand into the crook of his elbow.

She set off, practically dragging him there in her eagerness, and Edmund was left with no choice but to follow. They moved quietly through the still-silent camp, passing Khyldaer who was on patrol near the archery field. When they reached the cliffs, Lucy sank down to sit on the rocky ground, looking at Cair Paravel illuminated by the bright moonlight.

"I think this is my favorite place in Narnia," she said.

"Just wait until you three get to Cair Paravel, itself," Edmund said, without thinking, and then winced when he heard his slip-up.

But, if Lucy had noticed his choice of words, she didn't question it. Instead, she leaned against him as he sat down beside her, snuggling against his side when he wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

"Why couldn't you sleep?" he asked, after they had sat in silence for several minutes.

"I'm worried about you and Peter," Lucy confessed, quietly. "Susan, too."

"Why?" Edmund asked, curiously.

"Everyone's preparing for battle with the White Witch," Lucy told him. "You and Peter have been practicing your sword fighting with Orieus, Susan has been practicing her archery, even the Talking Animals are working on their fighting skills."

"Lucy," Edmund started, as he understood what she was getting at.

"You're leaving for war just like Daddy did," Lucy continued, sounding like she was holding back tears. "What if you don't come back?"

"We will," Edmund promised, rashly, even as he wondered how he was going to keep that particular promise. "Lu, we'll always be here for you."

"Do you promise?" Lucy pressed, insistently, and Edmund could see how desperately she needed to hear his reassurance.

"I promise," he said, hugging her tightly.

They sat together for a few more minutes and then Edmund stood, pulling Lucy to her feet.

"It's late," he told her, when she looked at him in confusion. "You should get some sleep."

"All right," Lucy agreed, and Edmund walked her back to the tent she shared with Susan. "Good night, Edmund," she added, as she went inside.

"Good night, Lucy," he said, softly, watching her disappear. "Sleep well."

Poking his head into the tent, he watched his sisters sleep peacefully for a few seconds, and then reluctantly left the tent and headed down the path to Aslan's pavilion. Right beside it was the small lean-to where the battle plans had been laid out, for all to see. Next to the map was a small stack of paper and a quill. Dipping the quill in the small ink pot, he quickly composed his message.

'I'm sorry, Aslan, but I know about the agreement you reached with the Witch to save me, and I can't let you do it. Narnia needs its King-Above-Kings far more than it needs a traitor. I betrayed Narnia. It's only right that I do what is necessary to save it.

Edmund'

Blowing on the ink to dry it, he placed it on the ground in front of Aslan's tent, with a rock on top, to keep it from blowing away in the night.

Then, he turned and started toward the edge of the camp. He'd almost slipped out of the camp without drawing any more attention when a dark shape stepped out of the shadows. Bertran, on his nightly patrol of the camp, looked curiously at Edmund.

"Feeling restless?" the Wolf asked.

"Just out for a walk," Edmund said again, the lie coming easier the second time. "I thought I could use some fresh air."

"Do you need an escort?" Bertran asked.

Part of Edmund was tempted to say yes; he didn't want to go to the Stone Table - go to his death - alone. But, he knew that if Bertran knew his plans, he'd do everything in his power to stop him. And Edmund couldn't have him doing that. Not if he wanted to save Narnia.

"I'll be all right," he replied. "Philip will probably figure out I'm awake and join me, anyway."

Bertran nodded, and silently turned to continue with his patrol around the perimeter of the camp.

"Bertran," Edmund called, suddenly, stopping the Wolf in his tracks. "Watch over Peter and the girls for me, will you?"

"Of course, my King," Bertran said, sounding surprised. "But, you'll be back by morning."

Edmund nodded, wordlessly, and turned away quickly before Bertran could see the tears that filled his eyes. Dashing them away, quickly, he continued on his way.

Almost too quickly, he reached the beginning of the path to the Stone Table. Taking a deep breath, he stepped onto the path. He didn't look back, knowing that if he did so, he'd never be able to go on.

Screwing up his courage, he was about to continue walking, when he heard a branch break. Looking around in surprise, he found himself staring into a warm pair of brown eyes.

"You didn't think I would let you make this trek on your own, did you?" Philip asked, softly.

Gazing at his oldest and dearest friend, Edmund shook his head.

"How did you know?" he asked.

"After all this time, you still need to ask that question?" Philip retorted, as they resumed their path through the woods. "Better you should ask, how could I have not known?"

"I know you as well as you know yourself, Edmund. You will not let Narnia perish, and you are not willing for Aslan to give his life so you may live," Philip told him.

"You're not going to stop me?" Edmund asked, a few moments later.

"You are my Prince," Philip replied. "I will not stand against your choice."

"That's not what I meant," Edmund said, softly.

"You are also my friend," Philip told him. "And, while I may not like what you're doing, I understand your reasoning. I only wish-"

"No!" Edmund snapped, cutting him off. "I won't let anyone sacrifice themselves for me. Not this time."

There was no reply to be found, so none was made, and the two walked on in silence. As they walked, Edmund draped his arm across Philip's withers, and the Horse slowed his pace to match the human's.

"The Witch will still lead her troops to battle," Philip said, at last breaking the silence.

"I know," Edmund said, heavily. "But, in a battle, Peter and the others still have a chance. They'd never survive if the Deep Magic were invoked."

"The prophecy," Philip ventured, hesitantly.

"I don't want to think about that," Edmund whispered, shaking his head, quickly.

They lapsed into silence, again, and Edmund was painfully reminded of his and Philip's desperate flight to Aslan's camp five years ago, to escape the Witch. Now, they were fleeing the camp and into the Witch's clutches. The irony could have made him smile, had he felt himself still capable.

Philip must have been thinking of the same thing, because he spoke up quickly.

"I promised to tell you how I got my name," he said. "Did I ever?"

"No," Edmund responded.

"I was born when the Endless Winter was at its bleakest," Philip said. "About ten years before you and your siblings came to Narnia. My dam died a few days after giving birth to me, and my sire was already away fighting the Witch, so I found myself alone.

"I was cold, and hungry, and I wandered away from the shelter my dam had found. I'd likely have died, if I hadn't been found and rescued."

"By who?" Edmund asked.

"By the newly-christened King of Archenland, King Lune," Philip replied. "He'd gotten lost, himself, and wound up in Narnia, and when he saw a lost, dying foal, he decided to save it."

"He didn't know you were a Talking Horse, did he?" Edmund wondered.

"I was too weak, at first, to speak," Philip told him. "And, when I became stronger, I discovered that my stable mates were all dumb horses, so I felt it best to keep quiet."

"But what about your name?" Edmund asked, curiously.

"King Lune decided to name me after one of his ancestors," Philip said. "One of the first Kings of Archenland. King Philip."

"Rather sentimental of him," Edmund remarked.

"His other choice was Star," Philip replied, which drew a dry snort of laughter from Edmund.

"Anyway," Philip continued, "he saved me, and named me, and raised me to an adult. And when I was strong enough, I ran back to Narnia."

"Where you then served Aslan," Edmund finished. "I wonder if King Lune would recognize you, today."

"I don't know," Philip replied. "I doubt it, though. I've changed quite a lot from when he last saw me."

"Yeah, for one thing, you're talking," Edmund teased, lightly.

Then, the small smile fell from his face as he realized that they'd reached the area marking the edge of the clearing where the Stone Table rested. Edmund closed his eyes, and swallowed hard.

"Philip, you need to go back to camp," he said, unable to look at the Horse.

"No," Philip said, firmly, surprising him.

"But, if they find you," he protested.

"I will not be seen," Philip assured him. "But, I will not leave you to face this alone."

"I could order you back to camp," Edmund threatened, finally meeting Philip's patient gaze.

"You could," Philip acknowledged. "But you won't."

"No," Edmund admitted.

Silence reigned, as both stood staring down at what awaited Edmund.

"I don't want to die alone," Edmund whispered, slowly.

"You won't," Philip told him, his voice cracking slightly. "I will be here. And I will-"

He broke off, struggling with the words.

"I will bear you back to Aslan and your siblings, when it is done," he finished, heavily.

"Thank you," Edmund replied. "Philip, I-"

He faltered, as tears sprang, unbidden, to his eyes. He dashed them away before they could fall.

"My first friend in Narnia," he said, fondly. "You've saved my life more times than I can count."

"It has been an honor serving you, my Prince," Philip said, formally, invoking a title he so rarely used. "And the greatest of pleasures to call you friend."

"I love you, Philip," Edmund whispered, hugging the Horse's neck, tightly.

Philip dropped his head onto Edmund's shoulder, and whickered softly into his hair.

"And I you," he murmured.

Horse and boy stood in their embrace for several moments, each wishing that time would simply stop. Then, reluctantly, Edmund stepped back.

"Tell Peter, Susan, and Lucy that I love them," he requested. "And tell Peter this wasn't his fault. He'll blame himself if you let him. He always does," he added, with a fond smile for his older brother.

"I will," Philip promised.

Edmund nodded once, resolutely, and then turned away, to make his way down the steep path leading to the Stone Table. He had expected to feel afraid, or apprehensive, but, with every step, a sense of peace filled his being.

A weight he hadn't even known he carried was lifted from his shoulders, and he found himself walking tall and with pride.

His doubts were gone, as simply as if they'd never existed, and he knew that what he was doing was right.

And then he was at the Stone Table.

Dozens of the Witch's Creatures stood between him and Stone Table. Beyond them waited the Witch.

Edmund looked at her, meeting her gaze without fear as he started slowly down the path the Creatures had created to the Stone Table. Around him, the Creatures hissed, and spat, and swiped their claws at him, but he ignored them.

She made a sudden gesture, and a pair of Ogres grabbed him, their grips crushingly tight. For his part, Edmund stayed still and silent, waiting.

"Bind him," the Witch ordered, coldly.

Without hesitation, the Creatures rushed forward, intent on inflicting as much damage as they could while they secured his arms behind his back. When they stepped back, only mere moments later, he was covered in a multitude of cuts and bruises.

Still, he said nothing.

"Bring him to me."

The Ogres dragged him up the steps to the top of the Stone Table and threw him, to land at the Witch's feet. He staggered, painfully, to his feet, so that they were face to face.

"So, Aslan sends you, anyway," the Witch said, mockingly.

"Aslan doesn't know I'm here," Edmund informed her. "I come willingly, and with full knowledge of my fate. I come to save Narnia."

"How moving," the Witch mocked. "You're saving nothing. Narnia will be mine."

"We'll see," Edmund replied, softly.

The Witch glared at him, before turning to the assembled Creatures.

"Tonight, the Deep Magic will be appeased!" she declared. "Tonight, the traitor's blood will flow!"

The Creatures let loose a series of shrieks and roars, pressing closer so as not to miss a single moment. Their eagerness was palpable, coming off them in waves.

"In that knowledge," the Witch continued, softer, as she turned back to Edmund. "Despair and die."

She raised her knife…

Edmund took a deep breath. His siblings' faces flashed through his mind.

'I'm sorry.'

Firelight glinted off the blade…

'I love you, Peter, Susan, Lucy.'

The Witch made a sharp movement with her arm…

'Please forgive me.'

Pain filled him. He fell to his knees, crashed heavily to the ground. The Witch grinned triumphantly down at him.

"Prepare your troops for battle," he heard her say. "However short it may be."

In the distance, he thought he heard a Lion's roar.

'Please forgive me.'

He let out the breath he'd been holding, and slowly closed his eyes.

A/N: I know, another short one. But powerful, I'm hoping. *Hands out hankies*