AN: I just hope the "cowboys and Indians" symbolism isn't too heavy-handed. If you're reading, please review. Thanks for all your great feedback. ~GwF

Chapter X: Tally-Ho.

Robin woke very early the next morning. He crept through the corridors and down the many staircases of the palace, till he reached the balcony of the great dining hall that overlooked the Sea.

There he stayed to watch the Sun slowly peel himself out of the ocean. Yesterday's sunset had been marvelously colorful thanks to the clear sky, but there were many clouds in the firmament this morning, so the Sun looked pale peach and the pink-and-purple cloudbanks were muted.

No one else was awake. Robin hadn't even heard a rooster crow.

He sat there in the silence, gazing Eastward, and remembered his nightmare.

...

It had started out like one of those Western films they'd show at the movie theater in Robin's hometown. In the dream he'd stood on a high green hill, watching the cowboys charge up, spurring their sweating horses.

Robin was one of the "Indians" in this sequence—somewhat. His coloring hadn't changed, but he wore no shirt and buckskin trousers and a quiver full of arrows on his back. Many others stood with him on the hill, but for now he didn't recognize any of them.

The cowboys shot everything in their path.

Robin felt his chest shatter as a bullet went through.

As he sank under his own dying weight, he looked into the face of his killer, whom he recognized even in the garb of a cowboy: Prince Caspian of Telmar.

"Why did you do this?" Robin asked, his voice shrinking as the life left it.

Caspian smiled down at him and said with a perfect country-western drawl, "Manifest Destiny."

You can imagine how frightened Robin was when he woke up.

...

"An excellent spot to meditate, is this not?" asked someone behind him, startling him back to the present.

Robin whirled around. "G-g-good m-morning, Your Majesty," he stammered. "Would you like me to leave?"

"No, lad, you can stay," replied King Edmund. "This balcony is more than big enough for the two of us and our thoughts."

He sat on the edge of the balcony, long legs dangling over the side, and turned his head to study Robin with his famously piercing dark eyes.

"What's your name, lad?"

"Robin…son of…Bram, Your Majesty. I'm up from Archenland visiting family."

"You don't have to lie to me, Robin. I know just from hearing how you speak that you are not an Archenlander, or a Narnian, or a Telmarine…where did you come from?"

Robin scrambled to his feet and started to run away, but the King grabbed his arm.

"Please don't hurt me, Your Majesty."

"I don't think I'll have to."

The boy looked at the marble floor. "I'm from another world, sire. I popped up here through a magic door."

Edmund raised his head, suddenly alert.

"What sort of 'other world'? Describe it."

"Hmm…it's a sad one, Your Majesty. There's no magic—even the colors there are duller than they are here. The people of my world have nearly wiped themselves out with their monstrous war-machines twice in the past thirty years."

"Thank you, lad." Edmund stared at the pale red sunlight sliding over the waters. "A world without magic," he mused. "A world without color. A world at war. Was this where we came from, Aslan? And if so, what does the coming of this boy mean?"

A tall, regal figure in a brown cloak came toward them. Robin saw the woman's black hair and assumed she was Queen Susan. But as she came closer he saw that she was tanned, while Susan was very fair, and her eyes were black while Susan's were blue. This woman's features were sterner, and she had wiry muscles in her thin arms.

King Edmund bowed to her. "My Lady Lavinia. Why do you stir so early?"

Lavinia looked with curiosity at Robin. "Who is Your Majesty's young friend?"

"My name's Robin, milady." Accompanied by a clumsy bow.

"A sweet name," she responded, before turning back to Edmund. "My Lord, have you reached a conclusion about the White Stag?"

He bit his lip pensively. "Aslan came to me while I slept saying we should go."

Lavinia sighed. "I would never interfere with the will of the Lion. But since Pelli spoke last night, my mind has known no peace."

"I understand. Pelli speaks from her soul, and she's never yet made a wrong prediction." The King cleared his throat. "But for diplomacy, we need something that will distract the Telmarine ambassadors until they go home, without making or breaking any promises. This is the best ploy yet. And besides—" he managed a grin "—I don't know about you, but there are some wishes I'd like granted."

The Secretary of Agriculture was not amused. "At what price, O King?"

They conversed for a while longer, but Robin heard none of it.

Aslan's words from yesterday echoed through his mind:

While I am gone, darkness may fall on Narnia.

...

Later in the morning Robin met up with Macurdey, who found him a small loaf of bread, a block of cheese, and a skin of water for the road.

"What do you think about the whole hunting thing today?" the boy asked.

The Rabbit shook his head gruffly. "Pelli is an honest woman, but I agree with Queen Susan. Whatever got the last people who hunted the Stag was probably the doing of the Witch. Since she and her compatriots are long-dead, I don't think we need fear the hunt itself. However, part of me does fear that young Prince Caspian might cause some mischief, out in the wilderness and far from law enforcement."

Robin lowered his voice. "Are you worried he'll try to assassinate someone?"

To which Macurdey replied in an even lower whisper, "There is no crime the Telmarines won't stoop to if they can frame the Mrekan for it. That's all I can tell you. We must keep close watch on Lavinia today."

...

By eight-thirty everyone was ready for the day's chase.

A party of about twenty-five stood waiting for the barge that would take them up the Great River to Lantern Waste.

Robin was small enough to share a horse with Prince Cor, while Macurdey was given the honor of riding with his friend Queen Lucy.

Robin didn't mean to eavesdrop, but he couldn't help overhear a nearby conversation; a conversation that seemed inconsequential at present but became fraught with meaning in retrospect.

"Sister, you should have brought a different horn," King Peter was saying. "An ordinary horn."

Queen Susan shivered a little, despite the rising heat. "Pelli's story has been growing in the back of my mind. I would have left my Christmas gift at home, but the possibility remains that we may have need of it before nightfall."

The High King sighed and climbed into his saddle. "I wanted this to be a pleasant excursion, not an errand of fear."

Old Sidrash Tarkhaan sat in an Adirondack chair (Robin wondered what you called such chairs in Narnia since the Adirondacks aren't part of that world) watching the ducks drift by on the water.

"Hello there, Sid!" Corin exclaimed.

Cor smote himself on the forehead.

"As you can see," he whispered to Robin through clenched teeth, "my brother can be a remarkably audacious idiot."

"The Tarkhaan doesn't like being called 'Sid'?"

"I have no idea, but Corin should have more respect for foreigners and adults. He told me he'd like a blind date with your sister, but please don't let that happen. If she's like you, she can do much better than him."

Robin chuckled. "No offense, Your Highness, but she'd punch his lights out as soon as look at him."

"Hello, little barbarian princeling," the ambassador replied sleepily to Corin.

"Are you coming on the hunt today?"

"No. Even if I did not fear the witchcraft of the beast you so recklessly chase, I agree with the poet who said, 'the barbarian shrinks his intellect to expand his muscles, but the civilized and enlightened one sacrifices all to improve his already outstanding sapience."

"Sid, I have a question. If you Calormenes think your poets are so great, how come you never mention any by name? You always say 'a poet' or 'one of the poets'. Is all poetry anonymous in Calormen? Or do you make up the sayings on the spot and—"

Sidrash interrupted him here. "The poets also say, 'do not unduly distress yourself by explaining yourself to barbarians, for they lack the capacity to understand the simplest logic." Once he'd finished the sentence he promptly began to snore.

Now the fateful barge arrived to take the hunters away.

Some would never return.