The Third Day


Be Thou my battle-shield, sword for my fight,

Be Thou my dignity, Thou my delight.

Thou my soul's shelter, Thou my high tower.

Raise Thou me heavenward, O Power of my power.

~Slane (Be Thou My Vision)

-English verse by, Eleanor Hull


"Sire?"

Edmund turned to see a huge wolfhound. It was the next morning, no attacks had come during the night, and he had allowed himself to believe he had been victorious.

"Yes?"

"I'm General Mactíre, reporting sire! Your brother has sent me and my men to relieve you of your position here."

"Of course, general, it's good to see you again." Edmund said, "We will turn it over to you."

~o*o~

"Peter's going to be mad," Lucy said as she scrambled aboard Mia behind Susan. They had crept from camp, leading just the mare. They hadn't bothered saddling her, they were afraid it would raise suspicion.

"Yes he will," Susan said, urging the mare into a canter, "but I know we must go to the stone table."

"So do I." Lucy said, leaning her chin against Susan's shoulder.

~o*o~

When Edmund arrived back in camp Peter pulled him off his horse and hugged him.

"You've done wonderfully!" Peter exclaimed, "Your work alone may have won this battle for us!"

Edmund smiled, "I did no more than anyone else. Where are the girls?"

Peter grew serious. "They left."

"What do you mean?" Edmund asked.

"I think they went to the stone table. They took Susan's horse; I don't know how they slipped past the sentries. I sent a party after them as soon as they went missing."

~o*o~

The moon had disappeared when they reached the hill and the sky was turning brilliant with the rising sun. They could see the sea, mirroring perfectly the sky.

They felt peaceful somehow, and Susan had let Mia fall to a walk. They heard nothing but the steady thumping of her hooves on the ground. It was so quiet, so perfect.

Suddenly they felt a low rumbling in the ground, Mia half reared, and Susan leaned forward, calming her. A massive rending sound echoed through the trees.

"What is it?" Lucy gasped.

"I think an earthquake!"

"Why?"

Susan did not answer, but urged Mia forward. The mare responded instantly and exploded into a gallop, feeling the urgency of her two riders. In a few moments, they were to the top of the hill and Mia burst into the open. The force of the sun at the top blinded them as Susan pulled Mia up.

They could see the dark forms of the standing stones as they cast their long shadows; like a tall, solemn circle of protectors. Susan let Mia walk and as they moved closer, they could see the stone table itself. Two halves rose against the sky, split by a jagged crack and Aslan was gone!

"Where is he?" Lucy gasped as she slid off Mia and ran to the table, Susan behind her.

"Did they come back and take the body?" Lucy asked climbing up on the table. It creaked dangerously and Susan dragged her off again.

"Maybe it was more magic," Susan gasped.

"It was more magic!" a deep voice reverberated behind them.

They spun around and saw Aslan, his mane glowing in the rising sun. They both ran forward and threw their arms around his neck, crying all over again. Suddenly the light seemed to burst on their souls and the world seemed incredibly beautiful. Despair was gone and there was hope, and where hope is despair is impossible.

"How did it happen?" Susan asked, laughing through her tears.

"There is a magic deeper then the deep magic," Aslan said, shaking his mane and sending sparks of light dancing over their faces, "when a willing victim who did no wrong was killed in the traitor's place, the table would crack and death itself would turn backwards. The Witch did not know this, for she came to this world only at the dawn of its time and this magic is far older than that. It was set in stone by my father, the Emperor over the sea."

"Couldn't any of us have done it?" Lucy asked. He was far more precious then they.

Aslan said nothing, but looked deep into her eyes. At last Lucy shook her head.

"No, you're right," she said regretfully, "We've all done wrong, haven't we?"

"Did you know what would happen?" Susan asked.

"No, but I was prepared for whatever befell me. Now children," Aslan said, "climb on my back, for we have far to go."

Neither of them bothered asking where they were going, but Susan climbed up on his warm golden back and buried her hands in his mane, Lucy climbed up after her and threw her arms around Susan's waist. They could feel him, living beneath them.

"Are you ready?" Aslan asked.

"Yes," Susan answered breathlessly.

~o*o~

Flavis lead the party that went in search of the girls. They were nearing the hill of the stone table when they felt the earthquake and they too, galloped the rest of the way. They burst into the clearing, only to find the table cracked, Aslan gone and the horse, Mia, staring at them with wide eyes.

~o*o~

When Flavis returned, the news traveled through the army like wild fire. Tiny flames of hope that had burned were snuffed out completely.

"Aslan is gone, the girls are gone," Peter said, staring ahead, "today is going to be the worst day yet, our army has lost hope and the Witch's army has been strangely silent most of the morning. They are preparing for something."

"Peter," Eustace said slowly, "Don't worry about the girls, I have a feeling that if both Aslan and the girls are gone, then they are in the same place."

"But he's dead!" Peter exclaimed, "I believe all is lost. We can't defeat the Witch without him, but we can certainly sell our lives dearly and that's what I intend to do."

"What are we going to do?" Edmund asked.

"Sit tight and see what the Witch does." Peter said.

The tent flap ripped open and Martin strode in. Peter was vaguely glad to see that he was starting to tear into things again.

"Sire?"

"Yes, Martin?"

"There is mutiny in the army, they are ready to surrender now," the centaur stood tall, looking down at him, "I think you should come."

Peter leapt to his feet and Edmund was glad to see him tear out of the tent. He followed to see that a huge amount of troops had assembled in a circle around their tent.

"What is it?" Peter asked.

A faun came forward, nervously and looked up at Peter, "Sire, the animals are worried, they appointed me to speak for them."

"Yes?" Peter asked, his heart beating hard. If this was mutiny, he didn't know what he could do.

"Sire, forgive me, but the risk is too great! We don't have enough soldiers!" The faun exclaimed, "What are we to gain? What if we all die? It would have been better if we stayed in Archenland. Aslan is dead! Gone!"

"What's your name, soldier?" Peter asked quietly.

"If it please you, sire, it's Nausus," The faun replied.

"Thank you, Nausus," Peter turned and Edmund watched as he climbed up on one of the wagons and stood there, surveying the crowd. He had been nervous before, afraid of what he'd say, but suddenly, everything became as clear as the distant hills, etched against the burning sky. He hardly saw the sea of faces staring up at him as he organized his thoughts. Then he was ready.

"I have just been informed by Nausus here, that you are afraid of dying. Let me tell you, I'm afraid, too."

There was silence and Peter continued.

"Tell me friends, where are we to go? Can Archenland save us? Of course not. The Witch will pursue us until we can go no farther. She will crush us. Here, we hold the high ground, Aslan himself told us to fight from these hills. She has us in a corner; she is ahead, Calormen behind, Telmar to our left, the sea to our right. We must stand and fight, no matter the cost, because the cost will be our souls if we do not.

"We are not fighting for honor, or riches, or glory, but for freedom. Freedom to till our own land; freedom to make up our own minds; freedom to speak and believe what is right; freedom from fear; freedom to hold up our heads like true Narnians.

"There are times in history when only a handful of free men pave the roads of freedom and sense. I admit, compared to the Witch's forces, we are only a handful, but I believe that even if we all die fighting for freedom and only one survives to enjoy it; it will be a battle well worth the fighting. I would prefer above all else to die a free man then to live a slave in the Witch's house.

"We might indeed turn and flee today, but we will have lost everything. There will be a time when we will be forced to fight her, but next time, it will be on ground of her choosing, not here on Narnian soil with Cair Paravel in view and the banner with the Red Lion fluttering overhead.

"We have three alternatives: we stand here and fight like men, we run back to Archenland and postpone what must come, or we march down there and surrender and watch as our ranks are turned to stone. I leave the choice to you. As for me, I stand and fight, even if I must do it alone."

He swung around like a lion ready to spring, meeting every eye he could. Some stared levelly back; others dropped their eyes to the ground.

"So, what is it going to be?" Peter called, his voice ringing in their ears.

There was silence.

Then, as Peter stood there, his heart thumping wildly, a cry rose from the ranks, surging as strong as a cascading waterfall. It was a war cry.

~o*o~

Then Aslan gathered himself together and streaked towards the woods at a run. They had never gone so fast in their lives. The wind seemed to tear through them like a spear and their hair and Aslan's mane seemed to mingle.

They could feel his strong muscular body stretching out beneath them as the ground whizzed past so fast it made them dizzy to look down.

A moment more and they were out of the trees, they could see the Great River ahead of them and Susan vaguely wondered how they were going to get across it. Aslan never faltered and the next moment they plunged into the frothy waves. The water was as cold as ice, but somehow they didn't feel it. They were soaked from head to toe and they were all laughing. A voice like a mountain waterfall burst out laughing next to them and they looked over to see the river god rising up next to them, his watery face creased with merriment.

They had reached the other side of the river now and Aslan lunged up the bank. He paused for a moment to shake himself, then he leapt forward again. On and on he rushed, through woods and valleys and up hills and down the other sides.

Then in the distance they saw a castle coming towards them at furious lick, or rather they were going towards it.