"Susan?" The single word had seemed to break what ever held the queen. Vitus looked over Susan's slender shoulder to see Queen Lucy sitting up on the chaise lounge that she was previously sleeping on. The girl held a confused, scared expression and her eyes wondered non-verbally why Susan had Vitus pinned against the wall.
When Lucy spoke, her sister's body carriage changed as her fingers grasped at Vitus' tunic for support. What ever was pressing its advances on the griot via the Gentle's body had left (though Vitus feared not for good) in a quick, dazed breath. Vitus put a steadying hand on her arm, worried that the Southern Sun would faint and he would have to explain the situation- and what had transpired before Lucy woke up- to Peter who would be, no doubt, fit to kill upon hearing.
Susan blinked as if to clear racing thoughts and turning to her sister, answered. "Lucy," She walked swiftly to her sister and reached out to secure a stray strand behind the Valiant's ear before sitting on the chaise next to her. "I was about to wake you, Dear One."
As the sister's embraced-for Lucy had had quite a nightmare- Vitus hung back where he stood. He knew not how much the Valiant had seen of what had transpired yet prayed that she did not see a single thing. The situation was delicate enough as it was with out a third living party. He knew with out a doubt that the spirit in the castle that undoubtedly caused the three deaths and several disappearances held the Gentle's body captive. Yet how was he to give and back up such outlandish claims. Surely he would have to account as to why he knew this and seeing that he barely believed that Queen Susan came onto him, it was likely that neither would her brothers. Vitus was certain that his diplomatic immunity, which saw him safely out of many situations, would not hold.
Queen Lucy's voice brought Vitus back to the situation at hand as she answered Susan's questions of who she was. "…I like my tea with lemon and sugar. Su…" the young queen's eyes flitted to where Vitus stood for a quick moment. "What exactly is Vitus doing here?"
The elder looked puzzled, forcing Vitus to wonder if she remembered anything from when the spirit over took her. "What are you doing here, Vitus?" Susan wondered genuinely.
The lad stepped forward, explaining with much difficulty that the High King commissioned Vitus to be his eyes and ears incase the Queens needed anything. It seemed that what ever he said seemed to allude to what had just transpired. "Your sister is too reluctant to admit that she got spooked and screamed a little, bringing me into the room to investigate, Queen Lucy." He made his way to the queens, with the tone he usually adopted when he spoke to Lucy.
The Valiant looked at her sister with a confused countenance. "What did you see, Su?"
"Nothing to worry about, Dearheart." Susan assured Lucy in a hurried voice she employed when she was bested in logic or trying to cover up a falsehood. Vitus took great length to hide his sigh of relief. Lucy had not seen Susan's display and the griot was positive that the Gentle had no clue what had transpired. She hardly recalled why he entered the room.
For him though, what had transpired could not be forgotten, that was certain whether or not he was the only one with such a memory. Madame Lihi had control of the Queen and that simple fact led to questions that needed to be answered. Was Lihi the driving force of what was transpiring at the castle? From what Vitus had read about the legend, Lihi only took children who whistled or hummed at night. How could that account for the death of Dores and her husband?
Vitus had heard from the accounts that Waylon was not himself prior to his death. Could he have been possessed at his death? And if so, what did that mean for Susan?
His musings had produced an uneasy silence between the three and at once, Vitus could tell that both sisters were as scared as he was uncomfortable. He leaned forward to Lucy and, keeping his voice as smooth as he could, offered to tell her the story of King Frank VI and his exploits at sea to calm all of their nerves. Lucy had eagerly agreed to listen, not wanting to sleep again so soon and Susan leaned back in the chaise as if ready to listen.
As he spoke, his mind reeled. He needed answers, plain and simple. Unfortunately he knew that if he found them alone and acted alone, it would be hell to pay from Peter and Edmund. The kings needed to be filled in about Susan and Vitus hated to be the one to tell them. But for once he was glad that his master had made him commit such stories to memory for the story spilled from Vitus' lips like a breath, just like he was trained to do. The rhythm of the story changed his tone, hiding his fear and awkwardness.
As his voice filled the room, steady and strong and cloaking his true emotions, the nervous lines on Lucy's face eased. Susan allowed her sister's head to droop onto her shoulder before gathering her up in her arms. The griot's words were like a balm to the Valiant and long before the end, she fell asleep in Susan's arms.
When Vitus noticed the Valiant's breaths were deep and slow, he knew she had truly fallen asleep and paused.
"You're not going to continue?" Susan wondered after a long silence. She looked at him with wide pleading eyes and was met with a raised eyebrow from the griot. She was never as enchanted on his stories as Lucy and Peter were. "It would keep us from thinking about everything. What I saw and the deaths…"
She sounded sheepish and Vitus almost let out a strained laughed. It was a rare day when Susan Pevensie was sheepish. But he knew she was not herself, in spirit or in mind. He knew what had happened the last time he tried to help, but Vitus had to inquire. "My lady, are you alright?" The muscles in the back of his eyes twitched as if they too were dreading her reply.
Susan heaved a sigh and stroked Lucy's hair to occupy and hide her trembling hands. "No, I'm not." She admitted at last with a hint of bite and sorrow in her voice. "I saw my dearest friend and mentor take his own life. My sister has been brutally attacked and Peter has gouges in his chest because of this ghost. I've implemented the remorse that plagues Edmund. The woman who I placed on a pedestal of everything I should strive to be as a woman suffered needlessly and died before my eyes." She paused, staring blankly in the distance, lost in her own thoughts. "And I am powerless to stop these and worse happenings unless I have answers."
Susan's voice was helpless and it was obvious despair was taking the place of panic. Vitus had an urge to brush his hand against her cheek to comfort her but he stood his distance, well aware of what had happened earlier. For the moment, she was still Susan, his friend's sister but he knew not when and if in the next moment Lihi would take over. "Nobody said that you had to be the one to find the answers." He reminded haltingly but Susan shook her head to dismiss that idea. She was the logical one after all.
Susan's brow furrowed in thought and they sat in silence for a moment. Vitus opened his mouth to speak but then shut it, at a loss of what exactly to say. Then as is it came right back to him, he opened his mouth to speak again yet closed it once more. He could have kicked himself, looking like a cod fish in front of the queen.
At length, Susan looked up at him with a glint in her eyes. The griot silently sighed as he realized that it was her usual psychopathic glint she got when she had made up her mind, got an idea or both. "The Toirdhealbhach." She gently eased Lucy's head on the cushion and in one swift movement stood in front of Vitus waving her hands and babbling in coherently. The political prisoner briefly thought of how odd it was to be relived that this was normal behavior for Queen Susan but pushed it in the back of his mind. "If anywhere has answers, the Toirdhealbhach would!" She concluded, gesturing wildly then abruptly committing to pacing about the room.
Vitus nodded in understanding. The Toirdhealbhach was the largest library on the continent and held every book, scroll and record ever written in Narnia since Aslan sang it into existence. During the Great Winter, a great many Talking Beasts strove to protect the texts from the Witch's clutches, which seemed intent to destroy all semblance of Queen Swanwhite's dynasty. They ferried the texts to underground caverns spanning over three miles wide and ten stories deep. He had been there once or twice, accompanying the Four to the famous library. He instantly knew what Susan was thinking. Answers would be found there surely and he recalled that from the swamps, the archives were but a day's journey as the griffin flies.
It seemed that Susan had the same thought as she moved to a small table and shuffled through papers that sat idle. She snatched one at the top and hastily scribbled something on it. The scratching of the quill to parchment was the only sound in the room until she set the quill back into its inkwell.
"Take this." She instructed, holding out the folded parchment. Vitus complied, and she continued, her voice was hurried as if she was speaking from the top of her mind. "Since Edmund made the decree that nobody should leave these walls until this storm breaks-" it seemed almost natural as a flash of lightning illuminated her face and she spoke over the thunder. "-this note will get you in and out of the castle. Find Peter and Edmund to tell them of your errand. If they refuse, tell them you didn't inform them for their permission and it's a personal request from me. Eadwig will be willing to fly you-he always is eager to fly no matter the weather. Research and find anything you can about Madame Lihi, the history of the swamplands and…King Frank II. And do it quickly. I fear that time is running short."
She moved about the room after she fell abruptly silent and rearranged items ever so slightly. Vitus stared after Susan, wondering if that was all she had to say to him. At length with her not speaking to him, the lad haltingly spoke up. "Are-are you sure you and Queen Lucy will be alright?" She gave him a slight incline of her head and knowing that was the most he was going to get from her, the griot left with his mind on the task of how to tell the kings of what had just transpired.
It didn't take him long to find the two among a throng consisting of E.G., the captain of the guard, several high ranking soldiers and the General Oreius. They stood in the armory on the first floor. It was a passable size but being at the end of a long hall that held a dead end, it was the perfect place to discuss what their next moves would be with out prying ear or eye. Vitus stood on the fringe of the gathering, silent and rapidly thinking of what he was to say. Everything that came to mind sounded foolish, overly blunt or suspiciously awkward. Exactly how Vitus was going to do this eluded him.
How was one to tell his best friend and king that the little sister (whom he protected like a mother hawk) was possessed by a vengeful entity that was most likely to blame for the deaths? And not to mention that he found this out because the entity literally pressed herself against Vitus in a most sexual fashion. Really, the lad decided, there was no good way to divulge this information.
But before he could think of said good way, Peter had noticed his friend. Stepping through the throng of military advisors, the High King stepped forward with Edmund in his wake. The Magnificent looked at Vitus as if to say he thought he stationed the griot to watch the girls. Knowing his friend's mind, Vitus automatically spoke, "They're fine. Queen Susan sent me." He held out the note with Susan's hasty handwriting on it.
The royal brothers looked it over and Vitus, eager to get the ordeal over with spoke hastily as they read. "She believes that there are answers in the Toirdhealbhach and wants me to depart almost immediately to find them."
"Of course Susan would be thinking of answers when our main concern is to get the people away from here as swiftly and as safely as we can." Edmund muttered, half to himself, half to his brother. "When the spider asked the fly into his parlor the fly complied to better know the spider."
"But the question is that can we escape these clutches." Peter retorted absent mindedly, half reading the message. Any attempt to find the missing young ones had turned futile and even now, his military advisors were drawing connections to the disappearances and the deaths of Waylon and his lady. It was obvious that if they were not careful, there would be more deaths and disappearances. He had already commanded that the Narnians who usually slept in clusters around the grounds to rest their heads in one central location. Those who were stationed on duty, the sentries, the cat watchmen, and the four's body guards were instructed to do rounds in doubles.
At length, Peter looked up at his best friend with tired eyes. "Will finding such answers do any good?"
"Its hard to say," Vitus said grimly on a shrug, "I would most definitely find for sure what holds this place and there is an off chance the archives might have some record on how to overcome this evil but…as it is alluded to, your Highnesses might not need this aid when I return. It has taken the lives of three and most likely the lives of the chick and pups."
The Elderly Gentleman spoke from the throng of military advisors, "Do you have an idea on where to start, lad, to get the answers back to us faster?"
"But what is there to say if there is no audience here to listen save the dead, regardless if we escape or perish?" Another cut in.
"I have a hunch on what holds this castle, sirs." Vitus replied, wishing he could be on his way and then well on his way back to help. "Although I cannot speak for the deaths of Waylon and Lady Dores as well as the attacks upon their Majesties; the death of her babe, the disappearance of the Gallewe chick and Bristlesplat pups as well as the experiences of hearing children through out the castle, all lead me to suspect that the demon Lihi's behind this. Researching would give me answers as to why she is hounding us and what we can do to loose her grip. I'll be but two, maybe three days if my suspicions are right."
Edmund handed Vitus the parchment back, knowing that they had nothing really to loose. "Well, Master Griot, let's pray that you meet us again in three days time in the halls of the Cair."
Nodding, Vitus moved to head to find the griffon who would take him to Toirdhealbhach. But he paused for a moment, still at a loss to inform the Kings of the spirit that held their sister. "My Lords…" He began, haltingly knowing that it must be said. He searched for the words but all that came out was, "kee-keep an eye on Susan. I'm not entirely sure what, but there is something amiss." He then turned on his heel and walked away so swiftly that the kings did not have time to pose questions.
Fungus Bristlesplat unfurled himself and poked his head outside of the den. Cold air and stinging rain met him and the old meerkat was glad that Sabine reasoned with the distraught Avril to let Fungus sleep in the den until the storm blew over. His only other choice was to risk getting squashed by sleeping with the rest of the court who, upon King Peter's command, slept in one central place. Luckily, Sabine was a convincing speaker and talked Avril into letting Fungus stay in the only other place to sleep: the den. 'What a good lad, that Sabine.' Fungus mused ruefully as he stepped outside, letting the curled up Valerious take the brunt of the cold as he was now the closest Bristlesplat to the entrance.
Fungus hated to admit it but he was going to miss his family. But he hoped his niece's head would cool off once –or if- they got back to the Cair. The family would see that Fungus was right. He never liked this castle the moment he saw it through the marsh trees. And after that ghost pushed him in the muck, Fungus often wondered what had compelled him to return. No, Avril will return to the Cair with a regretful heart and a forgiving spirit.
The wind was at Fungus' back, almost urging him to take the first steps and leave the grounds, despite King Edmund's decree. A bolt of lightning streaked across the sky, illuminating the now deserted courtyard. After King Edmund had gathered the search party the families and others had slowly left the courtyard to cower in their own homes around the premises.
Fungus knew that there would be guards posted near and around all of the exits and if he was caught there would be hell to pay. So he planned to make his exit though one of the small openings in the wall near the training lists and the millery. It was on the far end of the grounds- behind the castle itself. Fungus had traveled there for morning rounds and despite the lists being spruced up and void of underbrush, the rest of the area (save for a path to get to the lists and the miller's) was over grown. The old meerkat knew how to stay low in the grass and knew it would be hard indeed for any lookout to spot him.
He made his way silently through the grounds as the rain came down in sheets, threatening to over come and drown him. Meerkats were hardy animals but they were not only useless in rain and snow but death was a very real fact in such elements. He moved slow in the rain. By the time he had reached the millery hours had passed and Fungus had to lean against a post under the eaves of the building to catch his breath. He was almost to freedom, he knew. The wall that kept enemies out of the castle grounds was only feet away. The old meerkat leaned his head back against the soft dirt of the ground and took a deep breath as if to gather all of his strength for what was to come next.
But a rushed 'psst' made him sit up with a startle. He was not alone out in this storm. Once again he heard a 'psst' coming from around the corner leading to the back of the millery. Fungus stood on his hind legs, fully alert and completely still. Perhaps if he stayed completely still, they would leave him.
Moments passed and at length a head poked out from behind the building. Her long dark hair fell in limp curls and a large rose that held back a few curls had most of its petals gone. She looked at him under thick eyebrows with wide, beckoning brown eyes. Her face was serious, pleading and exceedingly young. Her ears betrayed her lower half to be that of a horse. She was probably one of the centaurs' daughters who sought solitude in her fear. The centaurs had always looked down on displaying fear in front of other. She vaguely reminded Fungus of the General Oreius-something about her nose, perhaps. But the meerkat immediately dismissed it. To him all of the centaurs looked the same to him.
The child centaur motioned to Fungus to join her behind the building and, despite his better judgment, the meerkat had no choice but to comply. She seemed young, probably barely beginning the journey to becoming a mare. Despite his words against finding his grand-nieces and grand-nephews, Fungus' softness for children over took him.
The filly ducked back behind the wall and although something in the back of his mind warned him, Fungus felt compelled to step forward to the girl. He rounded the corner and his small eyes widened at the sight behind the millery.
A/n: here is chap 14! It was (once again) part of a larger chapter but you lot (once again) waited long enough for the chapter. Whether or not the scenes can truly stand on their own as an entire chapter is up to your disgression. I'm luke warm about it being enough for a full chap...but I digress....For those of you who want to pronounce Toirdhealbhach, if you ask jeeves how it is pronounced it will lead you to a forum where it explains it. Its in the second post. Thanks to my reviewers and hitters for their patience!!