Chapter Twelve:

The Idea

Peter and Edmund walked on in silence, focusing on getting to Peter's guesthouse as quickly as physically possible. As they walked, both brothers minds raced with different thoughts, Peter's with the idea that he was about to propose to Edmund, and Edmund's with what Peter was to say to him.

When they arrived at the guesthouse, Peter ordered a centaur to guard the door, making sure no one interrupted them.

"Now…" Peter began after the door had been closed and locked behind them. He rubbed his hands together nervously.

"Lay face down," Edmund instructed, pointing to the bed behind Peter.

"Not now, Ed," Peter sighed, "I feel fine now."

"You won't feel fine tomorrow when your back is swollen," Edmund replied, firmly but kindly, as he sat Peter down on the bed.

"Can I at least talk to you while you're taking care of me?" Peter compromised, casting Edmund a surrendering look.

"Of course," Edmund replied with a smile, dashing across the room to grab a pitcher of water that rested on a nightstand nearby. Peter sighed and lay face down on his bed, wincing as his wounds, in a sense, were set afire.

"So how do you plan to get me out of here?" Edmund asked as he came back with the pitcher of water. On the way back, he had grabbed some bandages and salve that a physician for the Narnian party had set out beforehand.

"I was reading a Calormene law book last night, and I found something that I think will work in our favor," Peter replied, his voice quavering with both pain and excitement.

"What did you find?" Edmund asked. Peter clearly heard the confusion in his little brother's voice.

"I found a rule that the Tisroc had put into place a few years ago," Peter began, "It states that as long as a slave is in the possession of his master, he is a slave—"

"Obviously," Edmund interrupted, cleaning the blood off of Peter's back with a damp rag.

"Well," Peter continued through clenched teeth as the wet cloth caused his wounds to sting, "if the slave were to escape, the master has a right to go after him. But, if the slave has already crossed over the border of a free country, such as Archenland or Narnia, the master has no more power over the former slave, for he is already considered a free man."

"So that means if I were to escape and not be caught, the moment I cross over the border to Archenland, I would be free?" Edmund asked his voice touched with a tone of disbelief.

"Yes," Peter replied, swiveling his head around to grin at Edmund. "What do you think?"

"It sounds workable," Edmund replied slowly, "But the trick is not to get caught. And that would require a lot of planning."

Peter quirked his eyebrow in confusion. "Why?"

Edmund, finished with cleaning the blood off of his brother's back, squeezed the rag in his hands over a bowl so that the blood-colored water dripped into it. "The Tarkaan owns dogs, Peter. Very fast and strong ones at that, with the best sense of smell a dog can have. Besides, the stretch of land that runs from the slave's quarters to the gate of the plantation is completely flat, making it easy for me to be spotted by the overseers who guard the plantation at night. It's a very risky plan."

Peter sighed. "What do you suggest we do, then?"

"Wait a moment," Edmund said, an idea slowly coming to him, "I could take the long way out, exiting by the old gate at the far end of the orchards. The gate's facing north, anyway. The only problem is that I've only found the gate once, by accident. It's covered with ivy, as is most of the wall around it; and I don't think I could find it again, let alone in the dark."

Peter thought for a moment before replying, "Do you know anyone who knows about the gate?"

"Of course!" Edmund replied, "How could I not have remembered? Crystalline knows about the gate. James told her about it about a few months ago when she asked what it was."

"Do you think you would be able to escape that way, then?" Peter asked, hope coming back to him.

"Yes, if I take Crystalline with me…" Edmund's voice trailed off. What was he saying? Take Crystalline with him? The only way he could possibly convince her to do something so dangerous as to help him escape would be to tell her that he was King Edmund of Narnia. No doubt she would do anything for her beloved King Edmund. But what is she didn't believe him? He could always ask James, who had lived at the plantation since he was very young, but James was highly allergic to the night air, and neither of them could risk James coughing and attracting the attention of one of the overseers. No, Crystalline was the only one who could help him.

"Is something wrong, Ed?" Peter asked, looking back over his shoulder as he felt Edmund go motionless.

"Crystalline," Edmund moaned, instantly picking up the jar of salve and taking some onto his fingers, rubbing it on one of Peter's wounds.

"What about her?" Peter asked, confused. "She's seems nice enough."

"You don't understand," Edmund replied. "Crystalline told me a while ago that King Edmund of Narnia is her hope."

"You're her hope? What do you mean by that?" Peter asked.

"For being freed. She's under the illusion that I could snap my fingers and she would be free." Edmund sighed before continuing, "The only way I would be able to persuade her to show me the gate at night would be to tell her who I am. If she doesn't believe me, she won't help. And if by some miracle I find the gate by myself and escape, leaving her on the plantation, well…"

"How about you take her with you, Ed?" Peter asked. "You're her hope, after all."

"I guess that's the only way," Edmund replied with a sigh.

"You guess?" Peter asked Edmund in a shocked tone. His little brother, Edmund the Just, was hesitating to free a slave girl?

"Is she that bad, Ed?"

"No," Edmund admitted, "But I wonder what she'll think of me when I tell her who I am. She's just now warmed up to me generally coming from Narnia, but how will she act toward me when I blind her with the royalty factor? Will she be mad at me for not telling her sooner?"

Peter smiled sympathetically up at Edmund. Stiffly sitting up, he put his hand on Edmund's shoulder.

"You'll find, Ed, that sometimes the hardest things you can do in life are the right ones," he said, looking into Edmund's eyes. Edmund knew that Peter was right. In that moment, he was Edmund the Just once more.

Edmund walked into the slave's quarters that evening, exhausted but hopeful. After treating Peter's wounds, he and Edmund had agreed that the day after next Edmund would come to Peter's guest house on some small errand, and they would plan out Edmund's escape (and Crystalline's as well, if she cooperated with the plan). In the meantime, it was Edmund's job to reveal to Crystalline who he truly was, thus finding out whether she would help or not.

Edmund sat down in his bunk with a sigh. Judging by the vacant bunk across from his, Crystalline was held up with her duties in the kitchen. He briefly wondered how he was going to start a conversation with Crystalline that would lead to telling her who he was. His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of someone tumbling toward him. Edmund looked up.

"James?" He asked, for it was indeed James who was slowly stumbling to the bunks, taking deep breaths as he went. Edmund instantly got up and helped James to his bunk.

"What's the matter?" Edmund asked.

"I—can't breathe too well," James gasped.

"Is there anything else that ails you?" Edmund asked, going through the description of every ailment he could think of. He still thought of nothing. James must have some mysterious disease that no one had heard of. Unless…

"No," James squeaked.

Oh Aslan, Edmund silently prayed, don't let it be that illness that one of our soldiers had a few years ago… Edmund's mind flew back to when a soldier who had breathing problems died while he and the other guards in the Narnian party were traveling with Edmund and Peter while the two kings were patrolling the Northern Mountains. The soldier had suffered from almost the same symptoms as James was suffering from now.

Do not be sad or frightened, Edmund. Edmund heard Aslan's reply, gentle and soft. What you are thinking is correct. Tell James and Crystalline what is happening, so they will be ready for what is to come.

Crystalline? Edmund thought confusedly. Crystalline isn't here yet…

"What's going on?" Edmund understood Aslan's words when he heard Crystalline's voice behind him.

"James is gravely ill, Crystal," Edmund replied quietly, slowly turning to look up at her, gathering his words together; preparing to relay the verdict.

"I'm sure he'll be alright in a few days. He always is," Crystalline said, nonchalantly untying her apron.

"No, Crystal," Edmund replied sadly, turning to lock eyes with James, who was giving Edmund a reassuring look.

"What do you mean, Edmund?" Crystalline asked, her voice just now taking on a tone of concern.

"James is gravely ill. If he is suffering from the illness I think he has, his time on the plantation is short," Edmund replied in a quavering voice. He closed his eyes and solemnly bowed his head to keep the both Crystalline and James from seeing the tears that burned his eyes.

Edmund looked up only when he felt a comforting hand on his shoulder. There was James, kneeling down on the wooden floor in front of Edmund, his green eyes holding an assuring look of comfort and a sparkle of hope.

"It's alright, Edmund," James said quietly, wisely. "If Aslan wants me in his country, I'll go there. I've fought bravely for Narnia my whole life, even if I was enslaved, and now I need a rest."

"James," Edmund breathed, suddenly moving forward to hug James. He felt like a little child saying goodbye to his elder brother as he left for war. James had always been a friend to him, almost like Peter. Now that Edmund was faced with the reality that James would not live for long, it felt like he was being separated from Peter all over again.

Crystalline, who was standing not even a foot away from the two, felt tears come to her eyes as well. It was so sad that James would only be free from the clutches of slavery by death.

"It's alright, Edmund," James soothed, gently clapping Edmund on the back and pulling away to look him in the eyes, "You've done all you can for me, and taken care of me. That's much more than a chap in my state of life could ask for."

Edmund looked down at the bare wooden floor he knelt on. "I haven't done all I can. All I could have done…" Edmund's voice trailed off as he thought of all he could have done to prohibit slavery in all the lands surrounding Narnia. All he could have done to free these kind-hearted slaves like James…

"Listen to me," James said, firmly grabbing Edmund by the shoulders and looking him in the eyes once more, "You cannot change what Aslan wants done. Aslan has his reasons for everything, and we just have to trust him. And who's to say that I'm going to die any time soon? Don't carry on like this until you have a reason for it, Edmund."

Edmund nodded and wiped the tears from his eyes. James smiled, sparkle returning to his eyes as he got up and helped Edmund into his bunk.

"Now, you need to rest. You were up with me all night last night, and I heard you lost your temper in the orchards today. The best thing for you now is sleep."

"But…" Edmund protested. He was going to say, "But I need to tell Crystal something." Thankfully, he stopped himself in time. He couldn't do it tonight. He'd tell her tomorrow…

"No buts," James replied firmly, and gently pushing Edmund down so that he was lying down on the bed. Edmund nodded and relaxed.

"Alright James, you win," Edmund chuckled.

"And don't let me catch you getting up in the night to help me unless I need it," James instructed as he climbed into his bunk.

"I won't," Edmund promised. As the light from the sunset faded and the slave's quarters grew dark, Edmund didn't hear Crystalline settle down into her bunk. He didn't feel her crystal eyes watching his shoulders shake as he shed the dejected tears that he wouldn't let anyone see. And he certainly didn't know that as she lay in bed, she was wondering who he truly was.