Chapter IX. The Ruby in the Dunghill.
All at once the boisterous dining hall fell silent.
King Peter stood. "Hail Narnians, friends and allies."
"Hail Peter the Magnificent!" many in the crowd replied. Others clapped and cheered.
"Thank you for your praise." He paused. "Our friend Tumnus has brought us tidings from the Western March."
Nervous glances skittered around the room. The Mrekani delegation moved closer together. Prince Caspian put his hand on his dagger-hilt. Lavinia Etano's dark eyes scouted out the exits.
"At peace, everyone," continued Peter, well aware of the rising tension. "There will be no need to draw weapons, or to flee the premises. Our tidings are good news for everyone." He smiled. "The White Stag has returned to Narnia."
A huge cheer went up from most of the Narnians and Archenlanders. The Telmarines looked insulted, the Calormene ambassador looked bored, and the few in between (namely our young American friend) had no clue what the High King was talking about.
Macurdey explained before Robin could ask. "The White Stag grants your wishes if you can catch him," he whispered. "The last time he was sighted in Narnia, so they say, was three-hundred-fifty years ago—even before the Reign of Ice."
The High King resumed. "Tomorrow morning we, with our royal sisters and brother and noble friends, will ride to Lantern Waste on the trail of the Stag. Any who wish to join our party are welcome. We shall leave here on horseback at nine o'clock. At noon we will adjourn for a picnic lunch. If we fail to catch the Stag by four o'clock we'll lodge in the wood tomorrow night and resume the chase the next morning. Pack your own bedding, water, and extra food. Bring your hunting horns, but there will be no need of hounds, traps, arrows, spears, or any other weapon. The Stag must be caught, but Aslan's curse on anyone who would harm a hair of his flank."
One of the Telmarines stood. "We have travelled far and toiled greatly to reach this place, seeking your help to vanquish those savage enemies who dwell in the wild between us. Yet Your Majesty continues to delay council with ridiculous devices. Now you put it off to hunt a bewitched beast!"
"Peace, Lord Sobian," returned King Edmund from where he sat in the shadows. "Rest assured: the time for discussion will come. But this is an exceptional case. The White Stag has not been seen in these parts for centuries, and likely no one present will be alive to see him return. We must seize the opportunity granted by Aslan."
"Good people, if I may speak?" asked a Mrekani woman.
"We are all listening, Pelli," answered Queen Lucy.
Pelli's voice was deeper than that of most women. "It has for many centuries been understood among the People of the Forest that the White Stag must not be hunted. Pursuing him always brings disaster. If you want the Stag's blessings, you must wait. You must not go after him. You must let him come to you."
"What sort of disaster awaits those who give chase to the Stag?" asked King Edmund thoughtfully.
"This is the tale as we tell it in the Mountainous Forest. The last time the Stag was seen in this part of the world, all the nobles of the Forest People and the People Near the Forest sought him with the crying of hounds and horns. Among them were Toncrano, our greatest President; King Tarvin of Archenland; Crown Prince Aben of Narnia; and Queen Tirelia and King Marassian of Telmar. Of those who rode out only one returned. Queen Tirelia dragged herself bloody and wounded from the forest three days later, without her horse or any attendants. She never told what happened in that place—the bodies of her fellow hunters were never found—but it was understood by all the Peoples that if they had not chased the Stag, the evil would not have befallen them. We Forest People hold by that to this day. Apparently the tale did not survive the Narnian Winter."
"But Jadis was alive then, and we know she had a stronghold in the mountains," Queen Susan interjected. "Whatever befell Tirelia's party was probably her doing. I doubt we now have anything to fear."
'Don't be too hasty with that judgment, O Queen," croaked a Raven. "It's been only fifteen years since the Witch was vanquished—fifteen years of good to undo at least a century of evil, and probably many more centuries of hidden harm. There are still dark rumors in that part of the country. Some say Jadis had at least two children…"
"But you said it yourself, Sallowpad—they're just rumors," admonished Queen Lucy gently. "I think the hunt is a splendid idea, Peter."
"Telmar suffers while you amuse yourselves with these trifles!" cried Sobian in visible frustration.
"Your Majesties, I beg you!" said Pelli. "Consider my words."
"I would agree with the Forest-Daughter," said the Calormene ambassador, a rotund fellow in an orange robe. "This Stag may well be a conjuring of some evil, secret consciousness. We should let it come to us, not go pursuing it. For has not one of the poets said, better to wait for a stone to fall than jump to catch it? And another has said, wisdom from the mouths of barbarians is as rare and precious as a ruby in a dunghill."
Pelli gritted her teeth at the insult. "I am immensely glad that you poets approve of my 'barbarian wisdom', Sidrash," she deadpanned. "My life has meaning once again."
Corin started clapping until Aravis shot him a warning look.
Sidrash Tarkhaan didn't seem to care one way or another. He just yawned and stuffed another honey cake in his mouth.
"Well, I'm always game for a hunt," Caspian drawled. His girlfriends laughed at his bad pun.
"My Lord, perhaps we should reconsider—" said Lavinia, tapping the High King's shoulder.
"What do you think, Edmund?" asked Queen Susan. "You're the best judge here."
King Edmund sat awhile silent, staring between the pillars of the hall at the Sea, which was silky purple in the twilight.
"I will consider," he said at last. "I will think about it deeply."