Chapter Eleven: The Most Important Meal of the Day

"Wake up! Edmund, wake up! It's been raining all night and breakfast is serving and Batina is wearing a green watered silk riding dress with real beads on the bodice! Oh, and Mama has coffee."

That was far more information than my poor, sleep-addled mind could deal with all at once. As I dragged myself upright the words morning, rain, riding, and bodice echoed about my head in Baia's voice and I tried to find some correlation between them and utterly failed other than water being involved in several ways. The only word that truly mattered was coffee. Somehow I dressed myself and arranged my hair into something that wouldn't frighten Brennan (or make him laugh). When I walked into the main room of Brint's cottage I promptly smacked my head on one of the heavy cross breams running low (for boys) across the room. That went far toward giving me a headache and waking me simultaneously. Bly sat me down by the hearth where a new fire crackled. She knew what I needed, because a moment later I was handed a cup of fresh coffee and showered with sympathy.

"You're taller than two years back," she observed gently, pouring cream into my mug.

"Aslan help me," I muttered, sipping the coffee. It was excellent, but somehow her coffee always was.

"Brack, fetch Edmund's cloak and hood. The heavens have opened up on the land."

"And us," finished Brack, returning a few minutes later with a heavy cape of dark green oilskin lined with undyed wool. I stared at it, having no memory of having packed such an item, and decided I needed to thank Susan again. Or perhaps Peter. After his adventures in the West, he had the greatest appreciation for staying dry of any of the Pevensies. It was large enough and I was skinny enough that I was able to wrap it around Baia too and keep the rain off her as we hurried to breakfast.

When I dashed into the longhouse and hung my cloak to dry, I was surprised to find myself the de facto head of the clan. Brickit did not show up to breakfast, leaving me, his adopted son, to make sure everyone in the smithy was fed. Really the only thing I had to do was wait to be served, because as acting chief I would be fed last of all. Brickit's absence bothered me, however, and I sought out Belana.

"Lady, is Brickit not eating?"

She paused in her work to look to Brickit's seat. She glanced to one side and I followed the look, realizing Brint was absent as well, and Gran. Hands on her hips, she pressed her lips in a tight line, fighting for mastery of her emotions, and her shoulders dropped in what I took to be disgust.

"Well, it's high time," she snapped, letting out a slow breath.

"For . . . ?"

"For him to talk to Biss. Again," she added under her breath.

"Biss? What for, if I may?" Biss was from Moon Mountain, a cousin of Brickit's though I had no notion of how closely they were related. Most Dwarfs were kin, if only very distantly, and like most families they didn't always get along well. Being Black Dwarfs, it was not unusual for them not to get along at all. Biss' name seemed to have the same effect on Belana as it did on Brickit, because he always made a face as if he'd bitten into a lemon every time he mentioned his cousin. "Is he here?"

She glowered at absent kinsmen. "If not, he will be, and you're not to go looking for them, King Edmund."

Not being a fool, I hadn't planned on it. Biss was in no way fond of boys, kings, or anyone named Edmund. What was the Chief Smith up to? And Belana was from Moonspring, right at the base of Moon Mountain. Could Biss' presence at the smithy have aught to do with her?

"Lady, pray tell me true, is Brickit in some sort of difficulty?" I asked carefully and quietly, my concern genuine.

Blue eyes gazed up at me in wonder. Belana laid her hand on my sleeve and she all but gaped at me. After a moment she found her voice.

"Has he not spoken to you?"

I shrugged. "Not in any way that made sense."

Exasperated beyond words, she shook her head and made a sound midway between a sigh and a growl. It was a moment before she could say, "No, sire, the Chief Smith is not in any difficulty. Yet," she said softly, a hard gleam in her eyes. I was distinctly put in mind of Susan's fierce determination. It was a look that could send Peter and me running for cover, battle-hardened warriors that we were. Brickit didn't stand a chance.

Belana looked at me squarely. "Sit you down, Majesty, and make a good meal of it. You may take your father's seat or sit with Bly and her children whilst the men folk . . ." She struggled to find the words. "Sort themselves out."

"May I sit with you?"

"No, but I may sit with you."

I smiled. "If you would do me the honor then, Lady."

I sat in Brickit's seat and Belana took mine. A quick glance through the hall told me that everyone was busy eating and talking and therefore I was free to do the same.

"What have you learned these past days, King Edmund?" she asked after a moment of awkwardness.

"I've been learning to make arrowheads. I've learned a great deal about the children since I'm with them so much."

Belana smiled at the distinction I made. "And what have you learned?"

"Beckit and Bravin are excellent students and teachers. Bostrom told me it's his intention to make jeweled crowns for me and my sisters since he found out that Peter's is the only one of our crowns made with precious gems. I think he feels sad for us, but he really wouldn't if he actually saw the size of the rubies in Peter's crown. Your pinkie nail is larger. They hardly count as rubies. Bette loves birds and wants to meet them all. Bashad wishes to own a pet cat – a calico cat, mind, for the luck and wealth they bring – whom he will name Bithy and she will catch mice and crickets and ride on his shoulders. I thought Bithy quite an excellent name for any cat."

"Indeed. I can think of none better. Especially for a calico."

"Bandidi asked me to bring all the cinnamon next time, please."

"All?"

"All. Bob is remarkably serious for one so young, and quite inquisitive. All of the youngsters give credence to the growing legend of Babagee the Biter, and have added their own chapters to the growing epic."

She laughed. "Your brother will have much to -"

We all looked up as the door slammed open, silencing every voice in the hall. Since everyone but Brickit and his kin were accounted for, I expected them to show up and relieve me of my chair. To my consternation, I got Biss instead. Short, powerful, square of build and crude of manner, he was wet to the skin and furious beyond measure. A few of his men ranged behind him, but he blocked the doorway, keeping them in the weather.

From across the room he pointed. "You!"

I had no notion if he meant me, Belana, Babagee, or the pitcher of small beer before me, but as acting head of Clan Welent, I stood.

"Cousin," I said, speaking clearly so my intent could not be missed, my voice ringing out in the astonished hush. "Be you and your companions welcome to our smithy where the rules of conduct and civility are expected and applied." I gestured. "Pray sit and break your fast amongst family."

"You're no family of mine, Son of Adam!" he growled, and I had the sense that up to this moment I was not, in fact, the object of his ire. Not initially. Not this time. "Not now, not ever, in any way!"

I felt Belana rising up beside me. Her voice rang out defiantly. "But I am. I bid you sit or be gone, Chief Biss, and close the door behind you when you've made your choice."

"This is not over," he hissed.

"But breakfast is," said a sarcastic voice behind me. I glanced back to see Master Boont calmly drinking her coffee as she brought her plate to be washed. Over the top of her mug I could see her blue eyes and there was a smug, satisfied sparkle in them and I knew she was smirking as she effectively took the wind out of Biss' sails. She had little love for her miner cousin and his narrow views. Like most Black Dwarfs, the master carpenter wasn't afraid to let her opinion be known, but even by their standards Boont was formidable. Biss glowered at her and barked an order to his followers as he slammed the door. A moment later Master Barret rose with a muttered growl and the poor door slammed again as he hurried after his brother.

"A good morn thus far, despite the rain," observed Boont, clearly enjoying every moment of the drama. "Edmund, you must clutter up this smithy more often. Things are far more interesting when you're here."

"Boont . . ." Belana warned.

"Tell me I'm wrong, cousin," invited Boont, but Belana was silent.

"Well," I said to no one in particular. "I have no idea of what just happened."

"Your breakfast got cold," Boont provided, finishing her coffee and leaving.

She was right. I resumed my seat and picked at the remains of my eggs and ham, my appetite rather spoiled by the encounter – and by my ignorance. Belana sat down with a sigh, likewise losing interest in her meal. I pushed the plate away, deciding that as acting chief, I could pursue answers over arrowheads for the time being.

"Lady, can you tell me what is amiss betwixt these good cousins of mine?"

"No, my king. I am bound to be silent. Brickit is the one who must tell you."

"Very well," I said, rising. "Know you where he might be?"

"No, my king."

I nodded. "Then I shall have to find him and make him talk."

As I walked away, I thought I faintly heard someone say, "And may the Lion help the Chief Smith."

I didn't check behind to see who was the speaker. It didn't matter. The sentiment brought a smirk to my face as I donned the green cloak and set out into the rain.

Time to get some answers.