The Ring of Truth

Discussion is an exchange of knowledge; an argument an exchange of ignorance.

~ Robert Quillen

Eustace was lying on the floor, his face against the ice, shivering uncontrollably. There was ice everywhere he looked and for some time he could not place where he was. He racked his brain for answers, wondering… wondering.

"Harold?" his voice quavered in the cold, shivering like he did. "Alberta?"

Blue light lay in wide beautiful shafts across the hall, touching the columns of ice. Frost hung like curtains from the windows, more intricate and beautiful than lace, wrought by the hammers of the wind and cooled by the breath of Winter. He had never seen anything so beautiful.

"You are awake, then?"

Jadis was standing a few feet from him, dressed in blue, her dark hair flowing over her white shoulders. She knelt down and put a cold hand on his forehead.

"Come," she said standing again. "The sun will do you good. It is a fine day today. I will show you to your room."

"Wh- what day is it?" Eustace gasped through chattering teeth as he tried to struggle to his feet.

"You have been asleep for several days," she replied calmly, slipping an icy hand under his elbow to steady him. "I have been neglecting my little friend and decided to bring you back. I will expect to you keep me company."

She led him away, down the long, silent halls of white of that strange and wonderful castle. The wind raced down the halls, putting cold lips to the imperfections in the ice and playing soft, haunting and tuneless lullabies to the huddled masses that lived in that place.

Soon, she opened a door and he found himself in a hallway with no ice, only stone walls and to him, they seemed incredibly beautiful.

"Here is your room," she said, opening a door and leading him into a chamber where a fire roared on the hearth. With a slight twist of her hand dinner suddenly appeared on a small table.

"The ambassadors from Calormen are in the next room," she said, walking again to the door. "Do not do anything to disturb them."

"Wait!" Eustace said quickly, just before she closed the door.

She turned quietly to look at him.

"Why are you doing this?" Eustace asked at last. "Why are you keeping me?"

"Don't you see?" The Witch asked quietly, "You're part of my collection now… you're like a bug pinned to a card and labeled. How are you enjoying it?"

The Narnian Council met in a high chamber with a vaulted roof and round windows set high on the wall, so high no one could really see out (Lucy often wondered if that was the real reason they were all so cross and quarrelsome). The room was bare except for the table and a few iron lampstands; it was a cold, unfriendly place.

They saw it first the day after they arrived, when they were still rubbing sleep from their eyes. Martin and Flavis led the way down a long hallway, then opened a door, leading the four of them into the chamber. The room they found themselves in was large and many creatures were seated at a long table down the center of it. They were all talking and the sound of angry voices was near deafening. The only persons they recognized were King Lune, who sat silent at the foot of the table and Equus, who stood.

"Who are they all?" Peter asked, standing frozen on the top of the steps that led down into the room, the others beside him.

"Which ones?" Flavis asked.

"Any of them."

"The ones that will be on your side are on the right side of the table, the centaurs, Twang of course, Darcy, the black leopard, the phoenix, Lord Peridan, Lords Ron and Ronin and Lord Paladin, Peridan's uncle. The chaps against you are the other ten; the chap in purple ought to be the court jester instead of a lord. They are cantref lords; each was once a king in his own right in Narnia, now they have nothing but their tempers."

"How did they become lords of the counsel?" Edmund asked.

"Born into it, they are all warlords and each commands at least a hundred spears," Flavis said. While he spoke, he led them down to four empty chairs and they sat down unnoticed, while the two centaurs stood behind them, their arms crossed, their faces grim. King Lune leaned across the table to them.

"Welcome to the fun," he said grimly.

"Martin may talk as much as he likes, it will never work!" a man from next to Peter roared. "I will not lead a war band to be slaughtered if I do not know I will be supported!"

"Pryderi, he was the lord of Cymru," Martin leaned down to whisper in Peter's ear. "That land once lay in the west of Narnia, in the place where the lamppost stands."

"The Narnian clans will never be united," another man exclaimed, "King Xenon was a great man, but Xenon is dead. Loth and his brother Urien and the Mormaers of Ettinsmoor are cut off from us by the Witch. We cannot unite against her. We have enough trouble trying to protect Archenland from the Witch, how can we think of taking Narnia again? Before long, Archenland, too, will fall. We have not the strength to defeat the Witch and her horde. Our fathers should have sailed to find a new homeland when she came."

"Bar, Lord of Kernow," Martin informed Peter. "That was the south of Narnia."

Pryderi jumped to his feet, "Yes, defeating the Witch! But what were you doing trying to negotiate with the Tisroc; surely he is as great an enemy as the Witch herself."

"They're just like little children," Susan said quietly.

"Yes!" Lucy giggled, "I think we're more grown up than they are."

"Do something, Peter."

"They'll never listen to me," Peter replied.

"You can try," Edmund said. Peter glanced at him, but his brother's face was unreadable. "They are so caught up in their own selfishness; they can't see their own doom."

"Do you dare call me a traitor? Impudent whelp!" Bar was on his feet now, his fist on the hilt of his sword.

"Silence both of you," King Lune's voice cut the tension, "There will be no shouting in my house. I asked you to gather here together so we could discuss the defeating of the Witch. Already she is making moves to attack Archenland."

"That is your affair," Bar said. "The men of Kernow will have no part of it. If Archenland falls, we will hold fast."

Peter glanced at his sisters and brother again. They were all watching him eagerly, complete trust in their eyes; this was why they had come. Peter could bear it no longer, slowly he stood.

"May I say something?"

His voice was drowned in the shouting that had started yet again.

"May I speak?!" Peter yelled; they still ignored him. Doggedly, he clambered up on the table and swept the room with his gaze, locking eyes with several people who sat below him.

"Shut up!" he bellowed.

At last, the shouting died to a murmur, then was snuffed out entirely. Angry gazes turned to him, but they were silent.

"I've not been here very long," Peter began. "But it seems to me that if Archenland falls, Kernow will fall, Cymru will fall and Narnia herself will be lost!"

Peter took a deep breath and calmed himself. He rarely lost his temper and he was half ashamed of it, but he had started and he had to finish. He caught the eyes of his sisters and brother as he stalked down the length of the table and drew new courage from their gaze.

"Where can we go that she will not follow?" Peter asked, meeting eyes with each lord as he turned, "I see that her hand reaches even here. I have studied maps and seen that she holds Ettinsmoor in her fist, Telmar was lost years ago, she has taken the islands. Archenland is the last stand."

Lord Bar started to speak, but Peter wasn't finished yet.

"If the Witch overruns us, she will drive us into the sea." Under his gaze, Lord Bard sank back into his chair. "You have nowhere else to go. We can't just sit here and let it happen. I have no power over you, but I will fight the Witch to my dying day."

At last Peter was silent, bracing himself for the replies.

"You are insolent, boy," Bar said, his voice dangerously low.

"He may be insolent, but he's right," a dark haired man said quietly from the end of the table. It was Peridan, cantref lord, "He's right," he continued, "but men must have a leader and we have none that would serve."

"Would you follow the ones from the prophecy?" Equus asked suddenly from his place at the other end of the room.

"I am beginning to think that it is a pack of fairy tales," Lord Paladin spoke for the first time. "We have waited a hundred years and they have not come."

"We have waited a hundred years," Martin agreed, stamping his hoof on the stone floor, "but those from the prophecy are in Archenland at this moment."

"You jest!"

"I am not in the habit of jesting!" Martin replied, the vain throbbing in his neck; he let his hand fall on Peter's shoulder, "We brought them yesterday, do you not remember? This is Peter, the true High King of Narnia."

A murmur went down the table.

"He's a child," Paladin said, curtly.

"They are the fulfillment of the prophecy." Equus said and the room was silent. "I have watched the stars all my life. The time is now."

"If Equus says they're it, then they're it," Paladin said at last.

"I am not so easily convinced!" Bar exclaimed. "How can you prove who you are?"

"Show them your sword, Peter," Edmund whispered, nudging him.

Peter stood and drew his sword, the dull light dancing down the blade and burning in the ruby set in the hilt. A soft gasp of admiration rippled down the table as the lords, like one body, leaned forward to have a better look.

"This sword was given me by Father Christmas our first night in this world; look at it carefully."

He handed it to King Lune. The King gazed at it, running his hand lovingly down the sheath as he half drew it, gazing at the blade. The sword passed from hand to hand down the table, the murmurs of excitement growing louder.

"It is the sword of King Gale, of conquerors and kings, a sword of justice."

"A replica?"

"Nay, this is the sword."

"I have never seen finer craftsmanship, feel the balance and weight!"

"Stolen perhaps?"

"Surely you all remember the story of that sword," Equus said. "Or shall I tell it to you again? It vanished in the days of King Gwithor, taken away to Aslan's country, to return one day in Narnia's greatest need, wielded by a warrior and King. Have you forgotten?"

"Then we rally around children?" Bar asked as the sword returned to Peter. "What are you boy? Fifteen? Sixteen?"

"I am seventeen."

"A child." Bar said, "What experience has he got? None! The place of the High King of Narnia must be held by a man of age and experience, not a beardless boy!"

"The prophecy spoke of them," Equus spoke. "We cannot change tradition."

"Tradition! In a time like this!" Bar rolled his eyes toward heaven. "You and your precedent! You and your tradition! What are you thinking? This is not a time for rules!"

"Now more than ever is a time for tradition," Lord Paladin said, "Traditionally, Narnia has been united. If we do not follow our traditions, Narnia will fall apart more than ever. We cannot unite if we cannot rely on each other."

"Under Xenon!"

"And why can we not be united again?"

Lord Peridan rose. He was young, not much older than Peter himself, but his hair was already beginning to gray.

"My uncle is right," he said, "We must unite and we must unite under those spoken of in the prophecy. Who else? A choice of another would cause war between the cantrefs of Narnia. They are young, it's true, but we need a focal point, a center. How else can we defeat the Witch? Up till now, we have been fighting like a serpent with many heads, dangerous, but all pulling in separate directions. I say we crown them our monarchs."

"They cannot be crowned but the halls of Cair Paravel herself," Equus said.

Peridan turned to Peter, "Then in the meantime, will you lead us?"

"We are strangers, not from any of the clans; we can show no partiality." Peter said. "We will do our best, it's why we're here, after all. But I must tell you now that none of us intend to be kings or queens after all this is done."

"I will swear you my allegiance," Peridan said. The next moment, he was kneeling before them, his forehead to the shining hilt of his sword.

"I, Lord Peridan,do swear on my sword that I will faithfully serve you as my sovereign lords and pledge my lands, possessions, life and sacred honor to your cause."

~o*o~

"Your majesties?"

An hour after the council let out the four of them went out on the castle walls to look down at the city. At the voice, they all turned to see Lord Paladin coming towards them. The lord was middle aged, his hair graying, his eyes green flecked. He had the appearance of a wolf, always watching, always wary.

"Lord Paladin," Peter said, turning to him. "Please don't call us that."

"I wish to congratulate you," Lord Paladin said, brushing away his protests as he bowed before them. "You behaved impressively. You did not let them bully you and you now have their respect."

"Thank you, sir," Peter said.

Paladin inclined his head, "If I may make so bold, I would be honored if you told me your story."

Peter told it as briefly as he could, the others adding a few things here and there. When he had finished Lord Paladin looked over at them, for he had been looking over the city during the story.

"It is well told, sire," He said, "Truly remarkable."

"Tell us your story." Peter said.

"My story? or the story of my family?"

"Perhaps both."

"Very well," Lord Paladin said slowly, then began: "Our line is very old, descending from King Frank the first king of Narnia's youngest son who married a dryad. Our family was very well established when Stormrunner, Equus's grandfather, prophesied that four thrones must be built in Cair Paravel. The king, Xenon, was a great king for several years though he was very young, then he changed and refused to build the thrones. It was that year that the tree of protection between Narnia and the western wilds blew down and Stormrunner ceased to pester the king and built the thrones himself from the wood of the tree.

"Jadis, the Witch, had already taken Telmar, the country just to the west of Narnia, and she invaded Narnia too. My father was nearly killed in the fighting that followed and my mother, sweet lady that she was, tended his wounds and helped him escape to Archenland. Others were not so fortunate; a quarter of the humans that lived in Narnia was killed and a quarter was turned to stone.

"Kind King Cor of Archenland, grandfather of King Lune, gladly took in the Narnians that escaped. My father and mother were married and my older brother was born, then I. My father died young and my brother sat in his place in the great Narnian counsel. They decided that I too should sit with them, because they were lacking one member. Those were the days when the counsel was sane! My brother and his wife died three years ago of an illness, leaving behind their infant son Baeth, Peridan and their daughter, Clyte. I myself have never married and I will strive to raise Baeth as my own. Then it is as you see us now, hoping, watching and waiting."

Peter turned back towards the city, "We mean to help all we can."

"We hope you will."

Author's Note: The question, for us, always is: Peter was High King of what? In olden days in England, the place was split up into many little kingdoms, Cymru (Wales), Kernow (Cornwall), Kent and Lothian just to name a few. Over all these little kings sometimes reigned one big king, a High King (the historical King Arthur for example). In Wales itself there was a High King over many cantref lords (kings). The setup was complicated and troublesome and it took many years before the Earls no longer held the rank of king and all swore their allegiance to the High King. So our question is, how did the Narnian government work? Did Susan, Lucy and Edmund reign over different parts of Narnia and Peter reign over it all, or did they form a sort of executive council with Peter as president? If you have any ideas, let us know.

We have a major amount of PMs to reply to, just letting you know we haven't forgotten and will write back soon! :)

Thanks to Imaginatrix for the production note idea ;)

~Rose and Psyche

Production Notes: The TrevelyanTM Plush is now available for pre-order for the low, low price of ₤19.99. The box set includes Heroic Bedtime Stories by Rose and Psyche and a Replica Ice CaveTM that can be set up in your living room (batteries not included).