Hi everyone!
Sorry for the long absence, I had really important exams going on. But now they're over so I can totally focus on writing.
SingADuet: You're making me blush! Thanks so, so much for your compliments, they mean a lot and to be honest, motivated me a lot too. I'm so glad you think so highly of Celia. Thanks for reviewing!
hella-sirius: Answers to questions: 1) Yes, but not in this chapter 2) like I said, she's been there for over a month now, practically 2 months. I missed your reviews too :P And I have a list of your questions and requests and I'm slowly answering them...
Guest: Aah I'm sorry but 'soon' is a relative term and for Celia and Edmund it could mean ages! They'll get together eventually, but honestly, they have a long way to go. It's alright though, because waiting is half the fun and I have a lot planned out in the meanwhile...
NarnianFairy: Hi again! Your very own Nazi sign (except much nicer) is officially made! Thanks for the compliment and your review and support and hearts/nazi-signs
This chapter is practically all about plot and Edmund's skills, because I feel like I'm spending too much time in Ed's POV with him admiring Celia, and we deserve to see him in action. Celia's thoughts and actions are focused in the next chapter completely, and both of them together in the one after that. So the plot thickens.
Please tell me what you think, if you think I'm being way too descriptive/nit-picky etc, your ideas are always welcome and I hope to hear from you soon! Thanks so much for your reviews!
Edmund straightened out his tunic.
It was going to be a long day.
"I see the Lone Islanders have arrived," Caspian murmured, his eyes set on the horizon as a small but distinct speck of a ship bobbed its way towards them.
"King Zore has always seemed to be a kind soul," Lucy said.
"Oh he is," Edmund replied idly, thinking of a meeting they'd had regarding unfair taxes on Narnian trade. "Kind but clever."
The words 'kind but clever' somehow made him look up at Celia, standing beside Lucy. She held herself well, chin raised, back straight, but her nails scraping the sides of her red dress furiously told him how she truly felt.
His sister noticed it too.
"Celia, you'll do well." She said, in her most reassuring tone of voice. "It's no large matter. You'll just say hello to a few people and that's it."
"Should be exciting." Celia's voice was calm and polite, almost too much so, making him feel like he was imagining the hint of sarcasm in it.
As the ship was approaching the shore, Edmund felt a set of claws dig lightly into his shoulder.
"Sire," it was Lena, the messenger Dove appointed to keep the monarchs informed. "The Archen Delegation has arrived."
"Oh?" Caspian turned to Edmund. "The Lone Islands ship has almost reached our shores."
Edmund pursed his lips. "I'll go welcome the Archen. Bring the Lone Islanders into the dining room?"
Caspian nodded briskly, giving Ed a piercing look. He knew that Edmund would always have a special fondness for Archenland, ever since his friendship with King Lune so long ago. Lune was the first real friend he'd made in Narnia after his coronation. While all other kings saw him either as an incapable child, the just king or a traitor, Lune had been the first to see him as a person.
Edmund started to walk away briskly, Lena flying alongside him, when a thought struck him.
"Celia? Would you like to come with me to meet the Archen delegation?"
The girl was obviously terrified here. Their most informal relationship between rulers was with Archenland. King Aedan was a genial man, and he would be the right person to introduce Celia to first.
They had planned to introduce her formally to everyone at the ball, but letting people know about her from before it would help ease the pressure off her. Also, (Edmund hadn't shared this thought with anyone) it gave her longer to gather their profiles.
"Would that be okay?" Celia looked to Lucy and Caspian.
"Of course it would. It would send an even number of people to both parties, which is obviously favorable." Caspian smiled kindly, and Celia tipped her head at Edmund as if to say, okay then.
They set off away from the beach together, Lena flying over their heads.
Sitara and Aria were prowling ahead.
"So after I meet a few delegations right now, the next time I meet them is at the ball?" Celia asked.
"Well, yes. We aren't expecting the arrival of anyone more too soon though. Most other guests will arrive in time for the opening – however, it is tradition that Archenland arrives early and has a meal with us – something that started ages ago, really." He smiled in remembrance.
"Catching up with your best allies, you mean?"
"Yeah, something like that."
They were off the sandy shores now, and approaching Cair Paravel. The sound of clopping hooves was fast approaching. Edmund smiled at Celia comfortingly, though she looked perfectly calm and composed.
"King Edmund!"
Edmund couldn't stop a grin from spreading across his face.
"Greetings, King Aedan!"
A tall, sturdy blond man dismounted a night-colored steed and approached Edmund and Celia.
"It is quite a pleasure to meet you all once more," Aedan said. Then he turned towards Celia and bowed, and she bowed back hesitantly.
"And I look forward to making my acquaintance with you as well, Lady-?"
"Celia," she said graciously, offering the king a small smile, "Celia Longburn, King Aedan. And I'm honored to make your acquaintance as well."
"And are you betrothed to our lucky King here?" he asked with a chuckle. It took Edmund a moment to realize that the lucky king mentioned here was him.
"No, I'm not," Celia said, a little too quickly, a little red. To his horror, he felt a heat rise into his cheeks and berated himself. He should've anticipated this.
"Actually, I'm-" she turned to Edmund.
"She comes from beyond Lantern Waste, good king." He explained. "This is the first time she has set foot in Narnia, and it is our privilege to have her as our guest during her adventures here."
"Beyond Lantern Waste? How marvelous!" Aedan grinned.
"Your horse shall be shown to the stables, if you care to go in and make your presence known to the High King Caspian and Queen Lucy?"
"Of course – the Valiant Queen must be reminded that she is yet to defeat me in an archery match," the three of them set off amicably towards the castle. As they went in to the Grand dining hall, Ed could hear his sister's cheerful laughter echoing round the hall.
"Really? What did the fisherman say next?"
A loud, deep, booming voice said: "He said, "You were talking about the fish? I was talking about my wife!" "
"Greetings, King Zore," Edmund called out as he stepped into the dining hall with Celia and King Aedan.
The stocky, greying man had grown his beard longer than Edmund had last seen it. It was rather impressively long now.
As per etiquette, King Zore rose to greet him. "King Edmund! I see you bring our comrade in mead-drinking tourneys!" he boomed out a laugh.
"Mark my words, King Zore – bets will be on by evening" King Aedan twinkled. As they made their way to their seats, to avoid any discomfort or awkwardness, Ed immediately said,
"May I present to you Celia Longburn, King Zore, from beyond Lantern Waste. She stays with us in Narnia as long as Aslan deems it fit."
"Lovely to meet you, Lady Celia," Zore said, but Edmund didn't miss the sweeping look he gave her, and Edmund, as if trying to figure out their game. King Zore was not one to be underestimated.
"Likewise, King Zore. I've heard a great deal about your gallant courts," Zore gave her a pleased smile.
They settled down to a delicious lunch, and Edmund left it to Caspian to make most of the small talk as he wondered about the Archen River …the River Treaty had been amended twice. There was only so much they could do before they had to put their foot down. Water was getting scarce in Narnia too.
"I've heard about your dance in the books I've read – the Archen reel. It sounds so fun, though it looked dreadfully complicated." Celia was saying softly to King Aedan. He positively beamed at her.
"Nonsense, m'dear, it is extremely simple. If the fauns at the Ball play an Archen tune, we may attempt to show it to you."
"That would be brilliant! I've always loved to contrast the cultures of Archenland and Narnia in books, though the topography is similar, the people are beautifully diverse-"
"Narnia and Archenland have always been the same soul in different bodies." He said. "And even the physical differences aren't large. The blistering heat, for example, is taking its toll on all of us."
At this, he exchanged a pointed, urgent look with Edmund, one that said we have to talk later. Edmund nodded slightly. Aedan obviously brought new information.
Celia had skillfully brought up the subject of the river and now at least Ed would be aware that some news was to be expected. He would be ready. And to King Zore and any others, it sounded like a perfectly ordinary conversation.
After they dined, Edmund returned to his chambers to finish some paperwork. He changed out of his royal garb and flopped down on the bed on his stomach, leaning on an elbow to read the terms of a contract, when a fluttering at his window caused him to go to it.
"King Aedan sends this private correspondence, King Edmund." Lena perched on the windowsill. Edmund took the parchment clutched between her claws carefully. "Thank you very much, Lena."
The Bird sat there for a moment longer until Edmund sighed.
"Alright then," he rummaged in his drawers. "You can have this."
Lena cooed in delight when Edmund gave her a cloth rag, soft and ink-stained, from his drawer. Her entire nest was a collection of the Just King's most exquisite ink-rags.
"Thank you, King Edmund, very much," she cooed. "The children will love this."
Ed smiled in spite of himself and as Lena flew off, he shut the window and unrolled the parchment.
Dear Edmund, (they used each other's first names only when their correspondence was as private and informal as possible. It often served as code for when information was to be acquired, then destroyed immediately.)
I must mention this now, at the beginning of the Spring Festival, as I fear we shall both be too overcome with duty to discuss matters in complete privacy at any further time. This is also not something for foreign ears.
The Archen River at Beaversdam is not simply drying but being replaced with desert sand. I know we must jump to no conclusions about anything – as you have so wisely told me many a time before – however, just for safety, I had my men follow the trail of the river to the shelter where the Naiads reside. And Edmund, they were in terrible condition. Their supple blue-tinted skin has dried and their honey-sweet voices are croaky and parched. The river has dried, and so have they; as they have dried, so has the river.
We asked around as well. They spoke of an abduction of one of their sisters; the Naiad of the Great River herself. I know King Caspian and Queen Lucy spoke with them as well, but we met a naiad, Greta, who was with the naiad of the Great River last. She is from one of the streams closest to the Great River on the Archen side and was the last person to see the Lost Naiad before her disappearance.
She'd gone to the bathe by a pool on the Archen banks of the river and Greta describes catching a glimpse of the naiad rising from the river. Then she heard a shriek, and as she went to see what happened, saw that the Naiad was gone – a pile of sand in her place. We followed the pile, King Edmund – and within it's sinister sands we found the enclosed.
For the first time there is draught in Archenland, and it will turn into more if we don't put an end to this bewitchery. (Edmund's hands shook as he read that word)
May Archenland be with you every step of the way – as may Aslan.
Aedan.
Edmund opened the envelope attached hesitantly. Out of it slid a smooth, polished, bronze-colored ring – a ring with the Calormen insignia on it. However, it was a Tarkhan's ring – and Edmund knew most Tarkhans would own one of them.
There was something about the ring he couldn't quite put his finger on (no pun intended). This was obviously and brazenly a Calormen doing – but while the previous clue, of sorts – was the scarf, a very personal, pinpointing object, this was fairly vague. Was the causer of this trouble taunting them? This did seem to be the style of spiteful Calormen nobility: underhanded and malicious. This definitely seemed to be an isolated attack, free from the Calormen crown's orders. However, it certainly looked like some strong magic was involved…
Things were worse than he'd imagined.
There would be both naiads and Calormen officials with them for the duration of the Festival. He sincerely hoped the naiads would be able to hold their anger and suspicion, or he may have just started an international incident leading up to war.
-X-X-X-
"Edmund! The Ball's in twenty minutes!"
"Mm-?"
He rubbed his eyes groggily, then sprang off the bed with a groan. He must have fallen asleep at some point, and now Lucy was here, in his room, all dressed up, and he had rings under his eyes, his hair poking up from all angles.
"Get dressed quickly!" his sister urged. "Now, Ed! We must be there to open the Ball!"
"I'll just be out-," he mumbled, as he started to tug on his shirt. "Lu, wait outside, I need to change."
His hysterical sister blinked in bemusement. "Oh yes, I'll leave you – for now. Be out immediately!" she flurried out of the room, and Ed couldn't help an amused grin from coming to his face. He splashed water on his face, pulled on his fine blue tunic and trousers, and boots, and tried to flatten his hair. Oh well, his crown would be the more noticed part of his head anyway.
Before he went out though, there was one thing remaining to do. Edmund stoked the fire in his fireplace, and tearing the letter from King Aedan into pieces, he threw it into the fire, watching it crumble into ashes.
"Sire?" as he opened the door, Sitara prowled in. "I completed the check of the living quarters. Everything smells clean. No intruders. Elian says a check of the Cair perimeter is complete."
"Thank you, Sitara." He nodded. "I'm ready Lucy!" Caspian and Lucy arrived, Caspian in a tunic of red. He fixed his crown unsurely.
"Celia will meet us there with Aria." Caspian said. "She knows the way."
They couldn't have Celia walking in with them, for it would signify she was royalty as well, which would lead to quite a stir. The plan was to quietly introduce her to each delegation after declaring the Spring Festival open.
They briskly rode to the Lawn, and reaching, Ed couldn't help but be reminded of the beauty that was Narnia. It was lit with lanterns all around, the greenness of the grass glowing in the light of the setting sun. The dryads were gracefully roaming the lawns, their laughter echoing round the vast field. Several Talking Beasts, Centaurs and Fauns were amicably standing round in groups, and Edmund spotted the delegations of the Lone Islands, Archenland (he nodded slightly at Aedan), Galma, Terebinthia…ah, Calormen were very much here.
He gave Caspian an anxious look, and they stepped to the very center of the Lawn, near the old water well where Ed remembered, so very long ago, they'd held council when Caspian was a fugitive prince, and Pete and Susan were still there.
They met with Glenstorm, the wise, faithful and mighty Centaur they'd known for many years.
"Shall I…gather attention, King Caspian?" he asked.
"Yes, please do."
Glenstorm put a giant horn to his lips, much like the one Caspian had used to call them all to this world, and blew.
Ed resisted the urge to cover his ears with his hands.
The crowd's reaction was immediate. They turned from scattered, distracted and chattering and drew round the Kings and Queen like moths drawn to a flame. Ed did his best to appear regal as he turned to Caspian, who would address the large gathering.
Edmund could not stop his gaze from wandering round the varied crowd, seeking bright blue eyes, brown hair and an infuriatingly polite smile.
"Greetings, my friends!" Caspian's voice brought his attention back to the moment. "For those of you from outside these lovely lands, welcome to Narnia! And to the residents of Narnia, let us take this opportunity to express our love for our home!"
Cackling of crows, the purring of cats, large and small, cheers from the fauns and centaurs and Minotaurs, even the trees waved in the cool night air as if to acknowledge Caspian's words. Edmund cheered with all of them.
"For the first time, our esteemed guests from foreign lands join us in our festivities! I most sincerely hope you enjoy all Narnia has to offer, and make yourselves at home. After we open the Festival with the Ball and Feast today, there will be a variety of tourneys to test everything from swordsmanship to archery to chess skills." (Someone in the crowd actually dared to yell "King Edmund!" and he colored but offered a grin. His fondness for the game was quite well known among people)
"We do hope all of you here, Man, Bird, Beast and Magical Creature alike, enjoy the Festival to the fullest!" Caspian boomed. Edmund had to admire him in moments like this – he had a blatant charisma that drew all towards him as friends.
"In Aslan's name, and with His grace, we now declare the Spring Festival open!"
And the festivities began.
So did Edmund's work.
The three of them mingled among the crowd, moving freely between different groups of humans and, well, non-humans. Ed had enlightening conversations with two Crows about the best ways to impress one's prospective mate before politely excusing himself to meet Lucy and Caspian.
"Oh, look, there's Celia-" Caspian said. The three of them made their way to the bobbing brown head, and they reached her just as she turned around.
Edmund took a step back in pleasant surprise.
Her hair was the same, curly and brown, but it was shinier, like she'd just washed it. She looked fresh and bright, and her lips were pinker and stretched wide in a genuine smile. Her eyes looked bluer too, and Ed gathered it was because she was wearing a blue gown – and she looked very good in it. The V-shaped neckline displayed her long neck and delicate collarbones, and the fabric clung to the curve of her waist before flowing down gracefully.
"Well, don't you look pretty!" he blurted, then wished he hadn't immediately. It wasn't that she didn't look pretty, quite the opposite, but he hadn't stopped to phrase it any better than that, and the infuriating grins Caspian and his sister were giving him weren't making things better.
She also happened to be wearing the exact shade of blue he was, and if Lucy's cheeky grin was anything to go by, it wasn't an accident.
"Uh- well, thank you."
It gave him an insane amount of satisfaction, however, when Celia's cheeks turned visibly red. He felt rather proud to have caused that slip in her composure.
"Why, Lady Celia," Caspian said, half in jest. He took her hand and bowed dramatically. "You look absolutely breath-taking, and I would've said so earlier if King Edmund hadn't been quite so quick to comment." He winked at Ed.
"Why thank you ever so much, High King Caspian," Celia said in an exaggerated tone, as she fake-swooned. "I must say quite the same of you!"
All of them broke into laughter, and Lu said, "Really though Celia, I'm glad you listened to me. The dress definitely catches attention, and the right kind,"
To Ed's amazement, Lucy shot him a teasing grin and his mouth dropped open. To his horror, he felt his cheeks heat up just a little. "Lucy, what do you-"
"Greetings, Queen Lucy! You look marvelous tonight!" they were interrupted by the Duke of Galma and some other ambassadors. They chatted for a while till Edmund smoothly said,
"I must introduce you to Lady Celia, who comes from beyond Lantern Waste in Narnia. She stays with us for as long as she is in Narnia." The explanation worked well, for the more distant countries often assumed she was from some or the other district of Narnia, and with the vast knowledge she'd accumulated about this world, she knew just enough to be entertaining as well as innocent.
"King Edmund," Edmund met Aramash and Belial with a bow. "How does this merry eve find you?"
"I'm wonderful, thank you," Edmund said smiling. "And what of you?"
"Tis a most delightful fest indeed, milord." Aramash said. "Our King sends his best, and could not come because of matters of taxation keeping him busy in Darin,"
"Pity," Edmund said, sympathetically. He was looking forward to meeting with the King of Darin. The closer they got to Darin, the better.
The next person – well, not quite – to approach him was the naiad Nemea. A prominent figure in the communication between naiads and humans in Narnia, she was dressed in a flowing, graceful blue fabric that was so light it was barely-there, as if water itself were covering her. It would probably have looked inappropriate, vulgar, on anyone but a naiad.
Naiads never strayed far from their sources of water, so he could not expect Nemea to stay for long.
"King Edmund," she curtseyed before him and he bowed back. Her large, peculiar grey-green eyes looked into his with an almost scary, mesmerizing effect. He remembered the effect naiads could have on young men, especially adolescents, and how easy it was to be utterly besotted with their looks.
"Greetings, Nemea." For she had insisted he call her just that. "How are all of you holding up?"
It was relieving talking to the naiad and Talking Beasts instead of humans. There was practically no real need for formality, decorum among these creatures, unlike people, who tended to unnecessarily complicate things.
Her face darkened. "We need to act. Fast."
"I need to know exactly what you know to act."
"Yes, well" she looked around her. "Would you be so kind to accept a dance, good king?"
Edmund grinned, taking her hand. Merry, piping faun music played and Narnians and non-Narnians alike were dancing in haphazard pairs. "How could I say no, o graceful naiad?"
They moved in time to the music in a vague circular motion. Edmund spotted Deidre discussing something with a decked-up Terebinth woman, and just so happened to be positioned close enough to the carefully selected Calormen delegate, Arood Tarkhan. He gave a grim smile of satisfaction. He had trained her well.
"I heard of the ring and have no doubt it is Calormen." Nemea cut straight to the chase.
"What brings us this unwavering certainty?" Ed raised an eyebrow.
"I also heard of the attack on your life, Edmund," he ignored her abandonment of his title. "The sand? It's all Calormene. And,"
She cast a look at Arood Tarkhan, and it was so full of loathing it surprised Edmund. Her grip on his shoulder tightened and the twitching of her jaw coupled with the way her eyes darted from side to side…he saw fear.
"There have been Calormen people roaming the Narnian countryside for the past few months." She admitted. "We thought they may have permission, for all know of your diplomatic-yet-rocky relationship with that nation. Also, they did no harm, so we had no reason to suspect anything."
He had to phrase his next question carefully, as to not hurt the ego of the naiad in his arms. They were supple and retractable as the tide in nature.
"I'm glad you thought well and hard before reporting anything. And you are right about our relationship with Calormen, Nemea. Which is why I have to ask, were these people in disguise or identifiable as Calormene people? I need to know if there's a hidden motive or if this is one of their falsely-justified holier-than-thou actions."
This was really just a way of asking Nemea if she was certain she'd seen Calormene people as well as gaining information about the proposed attackers. He knew how it was to imply that a naiad was not absolutely certain of something – the last time that had happened, Peter had been the perpetrator, and the injured naiad had refused to allow anyone into her river, claiming she was ''to ignorant to be a real part of Narnia, or so the Crown thought."
He spun Nemea about as gracefully as he could muster, though most of the grace in their dancing was on her part. He was barely watching his feet, his eyes more intent on her as he smiled politely to make it look like they were making small talk, and he scanned the surroundings to continuously.
"Oh, well, they were dark-skinned like those from Calormen. I have never seen someone of any other nation or region with skin like that." She said thoughtfully. "They wore turbans on their heads-"
"They?"
"There were three of them." She said. Edmund noted they were all men. That definitely ruled one possibility out.
"They wore peculiar garb, Calormene garb." She said with certainty. And those rings, those strangely marked rings. A man washed his hand in my river – without permission! And I saw it. That's why I'm so sure, King Edmund. You haven't been aware of the arrival of the Calormene in Narnia. Yet here they are, and I'm sure it's not to spend time getting to know our great lands and creatures."
His lips curved into a cynical smile as they bowed at each other, the dance coming to a conclusion with the last notes hit by the faun pipes.
"No, definitely not." He said. "And you saw the ring, which is no coincidence. Our case against Calormene is building in proof and we largely have you to thank."
He accepted a glass of wine from her as they walked towards the tables laid out for the feast.
"No need to thank me now, King Edmund." Nemea said, her voice low and angry, sending a chill up his spine. "I trust you will do all you can to pull my sister naiad out of this mess." Before he could reassure her, she continued, shooting a seething look at the Calormen delegation.
"At the end of this Festival you may have to execute me or thank me," she finally said. "And to be honest, I hope it will be the former."
He most definitely did not miss the venomous look she gave Arood Tarkhan before walking off, and immediately sought out Sitara, who was comfortably chatting with a Leopard and Jaguar.
"Most sorry to disturb, might I borrow her for a minute?" he asked politely. Pulling her aside, he said,
"I need you to keep a watchful eye on our naiad guest for an unspecified duration, but especially during this fest. Find someone skilled, and free, and let them start immediately. It is a matter of great import."
She nodded, spoke a few polite words to her friends and padded off.
He let out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding. Truth be told, he really had underestimated the intensity of the problem: before this river incident had started, it had just been political, and affected no one but him. But now, with the naiads involved, it was harder to gage what game Calormen was playing.
The one thing missing from all of this: motive.
Guests were assembling close to the long, wide tables set up across the length of the lawns as plates were being set before them. The monarchs purposefully deviated from the traditional place at the head of the table to sit among the guests, and Edmund, quite accidentally, found himself next to Celia Longburn on one side and an elderly Galman Duke on the other.
"Hi," she said, clearly surprised to see him.
"Hi," he responded in kind, finding the greeting almost foreign after the extravagant words he used with most other guests. "How are you finding all this?"
He stopped cutting into his meat and looked up at her. Her cheeks were red and a little red, and the signs of discomfort she wore till so recently had faded away quite a lot. She looked more alive that he'd seen her in a while.
"It's actually really fun," she admitted, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "I can see why this setting is so appropriate,"
I can see why this setting is so appropriate. To anyone else she could be talking about the location, the event, a variety of things. It seemed disturbingly obvious to him what she meant to say though, and she knew it – she was saying he'd been right (he could not control the smug grin that had come to his face, and didn't bother to try. She rolled her eyes in retaliation. Placing Celia here, introducing her this way…it could be rather beneficial to them, but that wasn't the point: Edmund was so glad she was accepting her place in Narnia enough to see it.
"Why, King Edmund! Forgive me; I have been too busy enjoying the scrumptious food your country provides, and the fine mead, to notice even the King himself! What a shame!"
"On the contrary, Duke Elric, it is my greatest honor to be ignored for such a noble cause," Edmund said smoothly. "So how sails the business at Galman ports?"
The duke chuckled. "All fares well, I'm glad to say. Slave trade is fading away after King Bern ruled there a while. We are adhering to Narnia's strict laws regarding slavery."
"I am most pleased to hear that, just as Narnia is paying all the tax on Galman ships sailing our way."
He talked of innocuous things for a while, before gently steering the conversation his way. It was easy to do, since they were talking of trade.
"It is amazing how Galma's trade earnings have increased so substantially just by sailing. I would say most trade with your island only to see the ships, rather than beckon the ships to bring the trade!"
He accepted the compliment gracefully but Edmund had naturally put him in a position where he had to defend his trade.
"Thank you for your praise of my fleet, King Edmund." He rubbed his beard. "But with our dealings in silver, in cloth, in brick and stone, we have a substantial amount to trade as well."
Edmund inclined his head in humility, smiling almost sheepishly, so the other man would know he had the upper hand. This would make him volunteer more information. Feeding or attacking a man's pride were the best ways to get information out of him. Edmund had done both at once.
"Besides, Galma does trade with other nations and import many things. But I'm sure you see that, as you spend so long poring over our trade index."
"Your point is well made, Sire." Ed smiled and assumed an air of friendly banter. "I simply pointed out that the island of Galma, though so small, puts its resources to much better use than large nations like Calormen or Archenland or Narnia."
(Mentioning his own country this way would portray him as objective as well as raise Duke Elric's ego)
"You flatter us now," the duke jested. "Although I am too vain to contradict you."
"It is not a matter of vanity, but simply of truth. Smaller nations or places with fewer resources utilize them fewer, especially in the case of places like Galma or the Lone islands or Darin."
His mention of the word right at the end, so casually, still had the desired effect.
"Darin is a smart nation." He said wistfully. "Good produce, decent ships." The King took a swig of mead, "If only it were not quite so close to Calormen." He said in a low voice.
"That is true, and it puts traders with Darin in a precarious position." Edmund replied. "However, the rulers are well aware of this, I think, and are trying to give the image of being more free of Calormen influence than they actually are."
Edmund had worded that last line so precariously…
"Yes, they try." Elric said, a little sardonically. "But everyone in the vicinity knows the truth. Those rather extravagant Calormen ships sailing into the country every summer for their annual meetings are hard to miss."
Edmund resisted the urge to pump his fist in the air. The topic of the meetings had been brought up much easier than expected. Perhaps the Galman
was letting his fondness for Narnian liquor reside…
"Oh? They're that serious? I should probably have considered that aspect before initiating trade with Galma, then." Ed said the last part with a sort of quiet reluctance, a self-deprecating tone of voice, just to elicit a stronger reaction from Elric and gain more information.
"They are that serious! Be wary, King Edmund. Narnia is an ancient nation, but you are still a young man, and only age brings the caution that comes with experience." Edmund resisted the urge to roll his eyes.
"Well, at least not all the important, nor the most influential of people attend, so it isn't that big a matter from that perspective. Mostly the Tarkhans, the ones interested in business, attend" to his delight; Elric finished his glass at one go. He reeked of alcohol – but also of information.
"Mind, some of the big names attend too – Khurshid Tarkhan, Arood Tarkhan (he looked around hastily to see if Arood was in the vicinity; he wasn't), the one with the difficult name, er…Rahed Tarkhan, quite a tycoon, that one…"
As he prattled on, Edmund committed each of those names to memory. He put on his most deeply interested look as his mind ran furiously. The Darinian traders had found out about the sand incident from the Calormen officials at a meeting. He now knew the names of the Calormen officials at the meeting.
If he narrowed down the options, they could find exactly who was behind all this.
-X-X-X-X-
"I never expected the evening to go this well, to be honest." Caspian confessed as they stood together under the stars, enjoying a rare moment of cool breeze.
Edmund agreed whole-heartedly, though to him, the evening had been a success for an entirely different reason. He had yet to tell his companions about that though.
"It has been so much fun!" Lucy smiled. "I think everyone's enjoying it." She looked at Celia. "Are you?"
"Oh, yes." Celia grinned. She smoothed down her dress. "It's been a lot of fun and very insightful."
"I agree." The four of them exchanged a meaningful look but made no further comment. It had already been a risk for Edmund, talking to Nemea so openly. The more he spoke of such things, the likelier someone who was not-too-friendly might hear it.
Each of them, lost in their own thoughts, was brought out of their reverie by the resplendent sound of a horn. Glenstorm gathered every creature in the Dancing Lawn to the center, and a band of Beasts, fauns, centaurs, dryads and humans stood to a side.
"What is this? You guys didn't tell me about-" Celia's perplexed words were cut off by the beautiful, sweet melodies cascading from the pipes of the fauns. The steady beats of the centaur's drums followed, and the Owls hooted and Larks sang midnight songs and the Beavers even played a lyre or two. The husky voices of dryads contrasted beautifully with the high-pitched ones of human females until a chaotic yet powerful, mesmerizing symphony of voices and beats and twangs and tunes was created and every single being in the Lawn felt drunk on music.
"Didn't want to ruin the surprise," Edmund said, as he took Celia's hand in one of his, and Lucy's in the other, and suddenly, almost randomly, the guests had formed circles, rings around one another, and were moving to the music in a way that was not particularly graceful nor organized, but so purely joyful that they simply could not stop.
Edmund heard Celia laugh; she laughed a beautiful, carefree laugh, as she swayed with him to the music. He returned it with his own smile, the music pumping in his veins, flowing with his blood, beating with his heart. They moved forward, backward, faster, slower, and bird and beast and man and everyone in between were together as they twirled around, forgetting species and borders and customs.
The magic engulfed all of them as the stars shone gently in the midnight sky as if appreciating the wonders that Aslan had bestowed upon them.
If one looked carefully, he could taste Aslan's purity in every chalice of mead he drank. If he felt whole-heartedly, every brush of the breeze against skin or fur or feather was His gentle touch. The smell of blossoms in the summer air was His very own fragrance. The steady rhythm of the music seemed to be the rhythm of His own heart.
And if one looked carefully, he could see Aslan's smiling face, shining in the light of the stars amidst the darkness of the sky.