Ch 11: The Dwarves' Village

Edmund followed Asha on Phillip. Her own mount, Hrura, seemed to have grown attached to the young woman over the past few days. The two murmured to one another as they walked. Broadear darted among the ferns on either side of the trail, sniffing and scouting. Nalis walked in front of them all, and Celan came last. For her part, Asha rode straight in her saddle, looking left and right with no trace of disdain on her features. Once, he even thought he heard a faint thread of song.

She'd changed since that first night. Ed couldn't discover what had altered, precisely, but she hadn't complained about being manacled at night, and even seemed willing to help set up and break camp without complaint. Don't trust her, he warned himself. She's only waiting to spring a trap.

But when she asked each evening for a few moments alone, he found he couldn't refuse. She came back each time looking more at peace than she'd been since their meeting. Maybe the magic of Narnia's working on her, he thought.

"Sire. There are folk ahead," said Broadear.

They emerged at last from the thinning wood onto a wide moor overarched with cloudless blue sky. Ed squinted in the sudden brightness. A small town lay ahead. Already, people were ducking their heads out of doors to see who had arrived.

Dwarves, mostly, Ed saw, taking count. Many of them bore suspicious looks. He wondered how many had served Jadis. "Your Highness," said one, bowing low until his beard swept the ground. Ed couldn't catch any inflection of sarcasm in his tone.

Edmund nodded. "We seek shelter and food for the night."

"Many of our houses were destroyed, sire, by strong winds this spring. We have a common stable, but I wouldn't presume to make His Highness sleep with horses--"

Phillip snorted and stamped his hoof.

"That will be fine," Edmund said. "Nalis?"

The centaur came forward with a leather pouch. The dwarf gave him a sidelong look until he heard the clinking inside the pouch. "For your trouble," said Nalis, handing it to him.

A female dwarf hurried up to Asha's mount and, assuming the girl was royalty as Edmund had (and he was still unconvinced of her lineage), bowed to her. "This way, please."

"Your Highness," Phillip whispered as they followed along, "this place smells of fear. We ought to step carefully."

"Too right, my friend," Ed muttered.

They passed between a pair of flimsy houses missing much of their thatched roofs, and Ed caught sight of vast fields behind the village. Tall grasses waved in the wind, row after row of them, dry and brittle. They must have gotten precious little rain this spring.

As he returned his gaze to the slipshod dwellings, Ed's suspicion rose. Dwarves would not have chosen such dwellings on their own. Given the opportunity, most chose to live within hollowed-out trees, caverns, or earth homes. None that he knew opted for houses erected in such a human fashion.

They were awfully close to Narnia's northern border, too.

"Be on the lookout for trouble," he murmured to Nalis, who trotted alongside Phillip. The centaur gave a grim nod.

"Here we are," said the female dwarf presently. She had led them to another thatched building, larger than the rest, but not in much better repair. It stood on the edge of the village, near the fields. "I'll set a pot of stew cooking."

"If she doesn't try to poison it, I'll eat my belt," muttered Celan. The dwarf appeared not to hear him as she hurried away.

Ed and Asha dismounted, and he pushed open the "stable" door. Inside were five stalls, two occupied with horses who did not respond when addressed. "They're not Narnian, sire," said Phillip. "I'll bet my tail upon it."

"Broadear, you'll take first watch tonight. Celan, you're second. Nalis, you'll take the hours before dawn," said Edmund. His scouts nodded. "Asha--"

She held out her wrists, mute but not scowling. "Sleep lightly," he said.

Her silvery brows rose. "You're not going to chain me?"

"If I need my sword arm in a hurry tonight, I won't have time to undo a manacle. I'd just as soon not have the distraction." He piled up a nest of straw in one of the empty stalls. Broadear positioned himself at the main door, while Celan ranged about the stable, looking for weak points in the other walls where enemies might try to enter and surprise them.

Asha came into the stall and sat beside him. "Thank you," she said after a few moments of silence.

He met her gaze and paused. She stared back, and something akin to respect passed across her face. Their mutual stare lengthened, and finally she looked away. A faint blush colored her cheeks as she bent to pile up more of the straw. "Your scouts are very loyal. They must trust you a great deal. As you do for them?"

"We've had occasion to build that sort of trust," he told her. He grinned. "Peter and I once ran afoul of a minotaur party, and I wasn't doing so well, for all I had just taken one's ax and was laying about with it. Hard to swing those things, you know, you get tired fast. Peter had just been wounded in the arm, and he was--" He broke off, suddenly uncomfortable telling her about his brother.

"Go on," she said, with a smile curling at the corners of her lips.

"He was hurt, you see, and battling two of the minotaurs," Ed said slowly. As he recalled the incident, however, he began smiling again. "And every swing of their weapons got closer to his head. I kept trying to get nearer to him, to guard his weak side, and then this big monster of a bull swung an ugly double-ax at him. Beastly-looking ax, that, had to be maybe half the weight of my body. I jumped forward without even thinking. I don't know what I thought to do. Lose my own head, I'm sure."

Here Ed broke into a full grin, and he caught Nalis smiling from his place at the end of the makeshift stable. Asha looked wide-eyed and worried. "And then," Ed said, snatching up a nearby shovel and swooping it through the air, "in jumps this big red centaur with a battle cry like you've never heard, and he swings his own sword and chops the minotaur's arm clean off--" He stopped short, feeling like a cad. "Sorry. Probably ... er, probably not something you want to hear." He laid the shovel back in its place.

"And then?" Asha prompted.

"And then," Nalis added, walking toward them with a smile, "this upstart king tells me he's got it handled, and dispatches two minotaurs, and the one I'd surprised, just like that." The centaur's laugh boomed through the stable.

Ed rubbed the back of his neck and grimaced.

"Great thrashing oaks," Asha breathed out. Her eyes swept over Edmund. "Were you hurt at all?"

"A few knocks," he admitted, "but I made out better than Peter."

"The dwarf is coming back," called Broadear.

Supper was a quiet affair. The dwarf set the pot down and hurried out with little more than a bow of excuse, as though she'd been chased. Celan insisted on testing the food before Edmund ate any of it, but Ed noticed that Asha picked up her spoon and ate right away. "What are you doing?" he asked.

"They haven't poisoned it," she said. "I could smell it if they had."

Ed's gaze slid to Celan, who had scooped up some of the food and spooned it into his mouth. When he nodded, Ed ate. The stew was bland and watered-down, nothing like what he ate at Cair Paravel, but serviceable enough.

After that, all were very tired. Ed had ordered his scouts to take watches, but he slept lightly anyway, and only got bits of rest here and there. Asha had long since curled up in the straw and fallen asleep, without having taken her evening time alone. Restless during Celan's watch, Ed sat at the edge of the stall and watched her.

When he found himself unable to sit still, he picked up his leather satchel and tossed a few rolls of bread inside. He went to Celan. "It's the end of your watch, anyway. I'll take a turn and let Nalis sleep."

Celan went to sleep then, and Edmund made a circuit of the stable. For a long stretch, he heard nothing, and decided to look outside as well.

Moonlight cast everything in shades of grey. Ed circled behind the stable toward the vast field--obviously the source of the entire village's roofing thatch, as well as the straw in the stable. He wondered why they hadn't fixed their houses, when there was so much material at hand.

Then he heard low voices, coming from the field. "He is a king, isn't he?" muttered the first. "What happens if there are only three to rule, instead of four?"

"Easier to kill the rest, do you think?" said another voice.

"Better favor at court when we arrive home, that's sure enough." Quiet laughter floated through the grass.

Aching for his sword, Edmund crept closer, straining his ears even as he reached for the dagger in his boot. Whomever it was, they were moving, and not making much effort to conceal their noise. Armor, Ed thought, hearing the clink and rattle of steel plates and mail. They seemed to keep just ahead of him. Wondering where they were going, he followed silently. The grasses waved overhead in the breeze, taller than he, concealing him. He glanced back at the trail he'd broken through the grasses. Just as he decided to head back and get the others, he heard a low, muted rumble coupled with cracks and hisses.

And then he smelled smoke.

He broke into a run, back along his own trail, only to stop when confronted by searing heat and angry orange flames. Dodging back, he ran in the other direction. He'd gone ten meters, maybe fifteen, and was stopped by another wall of fire. With his heartbeat speeding in his chest, he raced in a third direction. More flame, and now, choking smoke that blackened the sky. The field was on fire in all directions. Sweating and choking, he ran north toward the armored strangers.

He burst into a clearing to find a group of men--tall, heavily armed. Not dwarves. Ten or twenty, he saw, counting fast. When they saw him, every one raised his sword and closed in. On their breastplates he recognized a stylized black tree. Selbarani.

No way could he best them all. Ed wiped pouring sweat out of his eyes and went for his satchel, scrambling, throwing bread rolls left and right until he got to the bundle at the bottom. Throwing his dagger down, he unwrapped the bundle and put Susan's horn to his lips.

The horn blared out four clear notes into the smoke-filled sky.