Disclaimer: Several things don't belong to me: The most notable is the story I'm currently writing. I guess it belongs to Lewis? In any case I'm not making any money off it, nor is it written with any kind of endorsement from Sir Lewis . Also, Dame Utha isn't mine either. She belongs to Electrum. :)
Another few things before we continue: The text in italics is an original of mine. Not very good, but deserves acknowledgement since it took so bloody long to write. I made a horrible, horrible mistake in the very first chapter. The date and year this story is set in needs to be set back ten years. Oops. It doesn't affect anything for you guys really. They're all still the same age. Eddy is still barely on his way to escape his teens. Peter is still bossy, Susan is very mature, and Lucy is still Valiant. SO SORRY! The mistake has been rectified. I'm a little disturbed that none of the reviewers noticed. Does that simply mean you're sleeping in class or that you're so wrapped up in the story that you forget all else? Hope it's the latter. In any case I bid you fair-reading. Oh and for the record it's alright to get annoyed with Romel in this chapter. I certainly hated him a little somewhere around the middle there. (And: YES it IS a Peter+Edmund dose and a large one at that). Someone asked for it. Enjoy. NOW you can go.
Chapter 20: "King of Swords"
"He was a fair and patient man. On his perch he watched the proceedings with an air of calm. To him the lost and neglected could come. With him they could rest and know he would treat them all equally.
Then one morning there was a call for arms. An air of unease around the men. The king looked over the land and saw to his horror that his men had shed their fear. Their faces, like his, had lost the touch of innocence. The one thing that still anchored them to humanity.
For what no one knew about the king was the hatred he had for himself. How much he longed to not see. For once to be blinded by anger or fury. For once to damn his honor and act on passion. What no one saw was his sorrow."
The journey to the Air Castle took little less than a day. Even traveling with a group of two hundred men the journey was surprisingly short. It didn't come as a surprise to Romel that the nomads all knew where to find the Telmarines. Nor that they feared being found themselves. Spying was their speciality. Moving without being seen or heard. Paranoia came easily to them for some reason.
Most of the nomads evacuated their old campsite in favor of a new location, farther away from the castle. Hidden from the Telmarines.
Romel looked in wonder at all the soldiers that had joined them during the night. He hadn't expected help at all. Had even felt surprised when Edmund rose from his seat during the meeting. Could it be possible that the Irins would have a home to return to? He thought of the families that had been in their village during the attack. Only a handful was with them. All intended to accompany the soldiers and nomads the castle. Help in any way they could. Romel expected many would choose not to join the fight.
Edmund had found his way up to Romel about an hour after they set off towards the Air Castle. The boy was a mystery to him. Not many things confounded the Irin any longer, but this boy did for some reason. When he looked at him he saw a young man. Serious. One who ought to smile more, Romel privately thought. The thought brought a smile to his own face.
Edmund instantly caught it and took the good mood as a sign from Aslan. "May I ask you something?" Romel saw him shift his gaze to his brother. King Peter was riding on one of Zoren's many stallions a few yards in front of them.
To his question Romel simply nodded.
"Are the guilds only consistent of family members?" If the dark haired king knew his question surprised Romel he never showed it. Instead those brown eyes drilled into the commander like there was nothing but the two of them in the entire world.
Romel only had enough sense to answer because of Archer's discrete bump into his back. "Yes…" He looked in the direction the king had also looked. Next to the king the guild patriarch Rillian was riding. A young man. Only about Peter's age. "Yes. They're either related by blood or marriage."
"Even the houses? I noticed how many people were wearing the stallion around their necks like Zoren and Spalo. I assume only those of the house bloodlines are allowed to wear the house sigil?"
"Yeah," Romel was getting deeper into the conversation. Waking up fully from his daydreams. "All blood relatives from all three houses wear the medallions. Doesn't matter if they're man or woman as long as their father's the patriarch."
"So Zoren's children have no claim to the patriarch title of the Lyuli house?" Edmund asked intrigued.
"No. Only to the Rudari guild." Romel could never understand why a king would care so much. Kings were supposed to be open and welcoming of all peoples. Never in eight hundred years had he met one that was actually as he should be. He looked up. And it wasn't just King Edmund. It was his brother too. They both possessed a curiosity unlike any king he had ever seen. He forced himself to focus on the question he had just been asked, when he realized his own line of thinking. The boy was asking insightful questions and Romel was continuously giving him yes or no answers. "You might actually witness something remarkable despite the short time you've known the nomads." He smiled slightly at the curiosity that widened Edmund's eyes. "Zoren's oldest son is betrothed to Hema Zlatari's oldest daughter."
"I thought the houses passed from oldest son to oldest son?"
"Yes, and so the logical conclusion would be that Hema hasn't got any sons." Archer mocked from behind them.
Romel's ire bubbled at the tone he kept taking with Edmund. If he wasn't more careful one of the kings would eventually run out of patience and punish him for being too outspoken. Though he liked to think Edmund understood the Irins better than his brother they were still taking a gamble trusting either of them. "That means," he said, trying to draw attention away from the rowdy Galmanian. "…that means the rightful heir of the Rudari guild suddenly becomes leader of the wealthiest house. Zoren has a couple of sons to take over the guild, but for Hema to accept the son of a lesser patriarch means a change these people haven't seen for centuries."
"Surely there must've been other times when a house leader only had girls? Or not children at all? Why not just make a daughter matriarch?"
Edmund's questions were confusing and random. The Irin looked down in thought to connect the leaps in the boy's thinking. "Because women don't have any rights." Romel tried to remember when he first heard of the guilds. They had only been around for a few hundred years. "They're set in roles that they no longer remember." Romel's eyes sought forward to the red banner that declared Hema Zlatari's house.
"Men protect their herds?"
When Romel looked at him he noticed Edmund had quirked a brow. That one suggestion was enough for the Irin to crack a bitter smile as well. "They're still young. Gotta lot to learn."
Edmund's smirk traveled in front of them again and he nodded. Then with a deep breath he leaned over to speak again. "So… Zoren's son...?"
"Estal."
"…Estal, loses his last name and takes Hema's daughter's-"
"Amelia."
"…Amelia's." Edmund glanced down in thought. "Estal Rudari becomes Estal Zlatari, and so the wealthiest nomad alive. Pushing Hema out of power and Zoren closer to it."
"Precisely." Romel nodded. His eyes again sought out Hema's house colors. The house leader wasn't there himself, but all patriarchs below him had to carry his colors.
"That will make him more powerful than his brother."
"Who?" Romel frowned.
"Zoren. Matching his son with Hema's girl makes Zoren more influential than Spalo." It looked like a vision had revealed itself to Edmund. To the Just King it felt exactly as if that was the case. Zoren was mush easier to deal with. Spalo was unpredictable. "That might actually be the sneakiest thing I've ever heard." His grin betrayed the supposed outrage he should have felt.
"Estal was set to inherit the Rudari name after his mother, but Hema approached Zoren about a union." Romel's granite stare was focused on the spot in front of his mount's ears. "Zoren would never do something like that."
Edmund retreated a little when Romel's voice made it evident he was accusing him of being hypocritical. He swallowed and focused on the inbetween between his own horse's ears. The calm he had possessed earlier, the weariness, was leaving. In its place he felt restless. Frustrated.
"The code out here is 'respect your elders'." Valera interrupted as she caught up to them. She guided her horse to Edmund's other side, and though closest to the king her eyes drifted to Romel's. "And respect men."
Edmund still looked wildly curious, though meek, and Romel hoped it meant he was gaining a greater appreciation for how things were done here. To his surprising regret the conversation died not long after. He wanted to ask Edmund questions of his own. He was curious. How was the Cair run these days? Did Edmund or his siblings know the history of their home? He still felt as though he could teach the young sovereigns a thing or two.
He followed the young man with his eyes as Edmund spurred his brown stallion forward. Towards his brother. Romel looked at the two of them and wondered if all their hopes and beliefs made them stronger or just insane? His thoughts again returned to Aslan. The Lion had allowed the Irins to suffer for centuries only to die violent deaths one after the other. Stell had been stabbed by two men he had cheated out of money. The rest were either crushed to death somewhere in the wilderness or eaten by ogres.
Could it really be that the King of Kings allowed such atrocities to happen? Romel doubted he could put faith in anyone who had the power to act out against evil, but chose not to. Passivity was the mother of all darkness as far as he was concerned. It was why he liked Edmund, he realized. The boy was impatient. He hated the time it took him to think, but did it anyway. Peter was much the same. Quick to act. Romel guessed he often rationalized his actions after he committed them. Romel didn't know that both kings had been taught to do just so by their tutor. To act bravely and never lose their bearings.
The Irin noticed the conversation between the brothers dispite not trying to. It drifted easily to those around them and made most wonder how they could be so relaxed. "…the possibility of fortifications alone makes it a task worth doing."
"You can't storm in like you do usually." The elder brother sighed tiredly. "This isn't like playing chess against Dame Utha."
Edmund scoffed. "This is exactly like playing chess against Dame Utha."
Peter growled and pushed a six feet high fern out of the way. Romel looked around. They grew like weeds here. He guessed the castle was somewhere in the valley, but up against the cliffs. That's what he would've done.
"We still need a second point of entry if we're to have any hope at getting to the prisoners before the Telmarines realize what we're doing and just slit their throats."
"Peter…"
"That's what will happen, Edmund." His voice softened, but it didn't lessen the sting of the comment.
"Do you realize this is the first time we actually get to see that castle?" Edmund muttered.
Peter hummed and sat back. Romel knew he shouldn't have been eavesdropping, but also knew every single soldier or nomad around was doing the exact same thing.
"I can't help but feel grateful Lucy never made it that far." the dark king said to himself.
"Not for lack of trying on their part." Peter growled.
Romel's ears perked. So the Narnian sovereigns did have some kind of history with the elusive Telmarines. Something involving the Valiant Queen. "He was most likely acting alone, you do realize?" Edmund cautiously asked.
"I don't care." Peter glanced at his brother. "They keep taking people and expecting to get away with it. I bet most of the disappearances around here are because of them and not the ogres." The high king's back was straight as an arrow. "This time they took the wrong ones."
Romel ducked his eyes when Edmund for some reason glanced back. He noticed Valera doing the same by his side. Deciding not to listen in, he turned to her with a question in mind. "Is it true that Whillam Luri sent word this morning?"
Valera nodded. "He's supposedly on his way with three hundred men at arms." She looked back at the kings as she had a moment ago. "But he won't make it. There's a storm in the north. And until he does we're only two hundred against a castle full."
Romel tried to peak through the pines, but saw nothing but slightly greyish skies. "How do you know about the storm?" His voice brightened to one almost reminiscent of a young boy.
Valera smiled. "My knee is hurting."
He scoffed at the old joke when Archer let out a great bark. It had been several lifetimes since she had claimed she could feel approaching storms by the intensity of pain in her knees. Romel doubted she'd had any knee injuries in this life. Hoped she wouldn't sustain any. But the joke still made him smile.
He looked up at the kings with renewed hope. Perhaps this could be Edmund's trial run? To see what kind of a man he was in war. Romel couldn't actually remember ever seeing him fight. He remembered the beating he had given Harrol. Or how he easily he had killed the goons with his bare hands. But swordfights. Planned battles. Conduct becoming of a king. That was the real test.
Vala and a scout for the nomads returned that evening with word. The castle was less than an hour's ride away. Peter stopped their rather large group and assigned men to form a semicircle around the building. Its back was against a mountain which made for excellent cover for the Telmarines but also gave them only one way out. He split the men up in five groups with Keefang, Barrow, Bacchus and Nex in charge of one each. He took point of the last one and kept Vala by his side as a spy.
When the sun set in the west and turned the forest from green to blue, he had his first moment of doubt. The walls were high and well protected. Three guards stationed every ten feet. That meant they had at least three times that many inside the walls. Edmund proposed involving the trapped Irins in the fight by sending someone in to free them. It would divide the Telmarines, but he felt the need to point out that the prisoners might not be in any state to fight. Peter also knew who his brother planned on sending in behind the walls.
"Why not?" Edmund hissed. No fires were lit in order to keep the element of surprise. Every human, Animal or Creature was crouched low against the ground. Hiding among the tall ferns.
Peter rubbed a hand over his face to release some of the numbness. "Because I don't want you in there alone."
"Romel, Archer, Valera and Thale will be with me. I'll probably be safer with them than out here." the younger brother argued. He could feel the four Irins watching them from a distance. Even in the darkness. He shot a quick glance back just in time to see the whites of Romel's eyes disappear. "And besides I don't think they'll wait for you."
"I'd like to know exactly what relation those people have to our friends." Peter growled and shot his own look towards the four soldiers.
"Children. Siblings. Parents. Some even have grandchildren from past lives." Edmund pleaded. It hadn't slipped his attention that Peter called them 'our friends'. "Would you wait?" A small smile blossomed.
Peter stopped and looked at his brother. Had it been Edmund or either of his sisters behind those walls, being held captive, he would have done absolutely anything to get them back. "You said you had an entrance?"
Edmund almost grinned, but was decent enough to reel it in at the last moment. "Vala found a tunnel."
Peter groaned. "Why is it always a tunnel?"
"One that leads to the western side of the castle. She says the latch on the other end is rusted through. One strike with Archer's axe should shatter it."
It was the first time in a while Peter had seen his brother so excited, and he didn't want to think what he would do if he wasn't allowed to follow his friends. His damn substitute family. He almost cursed, but felt shameful when he again took in Edmund's hopeful expression. "I can't spare anyone. It'll just be you five."
"It will be enough." the youngest king said with conviction. Silently praying with his eyes for his brother to trust him.
With a sigh Peter did just that. "Go," Edmund almost ran. "But be careful! I don't want to have to tell Susan that I let you run off and get caught."
Edmund smirked as he backed away. Peter watched him tap Romel's shoulder and saw the Irins disappear into the night. As they went he had a sudden shiver of insecurity. He would have to move fast once his brother was safely inside. Vala would follow them and report back when they were safely inside. Choosing to focus on anything but his rogue brother, he turned to Zoren and nodded. "All men to positions."
The patriarch returned the nod and vanished as well. It had begun.
Romel led his three friends and Edmund through the tunnel. At the end he stepped aside and allowed Archer to take out the locks. As promised all it took was one swing from his axe. Archer, Valera and Thale passed Romel before he caught a quick glance of Edmund. His eyes looked lighter than usual. The king looked at him a moment before he followed their friends. Inside the room there was darkness. It seemed they had entered the castle from the cellar. They were in the food storage, if the salted hams and boxed potatoes were anything to go by.
They snuck through the gloomy cellar until they reached the kitchens. Out there it was quiet as well. A few girls were kneading the beginnings of bread, but the room was poorly lit and elongated. A smell of flour hung in the air. The five intruders snuck out easily. "So where would one keep prisoners in a place like this?" Edmund asked in a whisper.
It was Archer who answered. "We found you in the dungeons." He shrugged when Romel glared. "Wha'?"
"You might wanna remember he's king." he growled.
"Not tonight." Edmund countered and snuck around them.
As he did Romel couldn't stop staring at the back of his head. It did indeed appear as if Edmund considered himself their equal. Two years ago the thought would have made him scoff. How dared a boy think that of himself? Now he realized it was almost opposite. He wondered why a king would lower himself to the level of his subjects.
As all those thoughts buzzed through his mind he belatedly noticed the glare the reached them from behind a door. A second hall that was well lit. Romel noticed a second too late for Edmund that there were guards as well. He jerked Archer back before he had a chance to follow and get caught. Edmund froze the second the guards yelled. His back was turned to the four Irins in the shadows as he slowly raised his hands.
"Drop the sword."
His Centaur-made beauty. It clattered to the floor.
"Turn around!" They were hastily making their way towards him.
He turned and made eye contact with Romel. His twin swords were still hanging on his back and his hands were hovering at shoulder height. He smoothly waved the Irins further back, asking them to wait while he drew the guards closer.
"Don't move!" one of the guards shouted. He sounded as if his nervousness increased as his distance to Edmund lessened.
"Is it alright if I breathe?" the dark-haired boy mouthed off as they drew their weapons and stepped closer. They had their backs to the darkened hallway in which the Irins hid. Only when Edmund flicked his wrist in the universal signal to advance did the two guards realize their mistake.
Romel wondered if they recognized the sign or just felt a presence at their backs suddenly. In any case it was too late. Romel slipped out of the darkness and stabbed one guard through the back. Valera smoothly loosened an arrow. Even after having seen the Irins in action several times Edmund still looked surprised when Romel again turned to him. He lowered the bloodied sword and tried to smile. "Well done," he clapped his shoulder as he passed.
"Yeah… Don't do it again." Archer growled. Had Romel not known better he would have mistaken his tone for annoyance.
He helped stow the guards away and then took point. Edmund lifted the keys and passed them. The door they had been guarding had to be pushed open. Inside they found a group of almost twenty people. Every single one of them looked up when the door opened with squints. No light but what streamed in through the doorway. Even that must have been like staring into the sun for them. Several torches brought in by Edmund and Valera, lit the dingy walls. Romel heard the king sink convulsively at the smell. It was enough to make even the Irin's eyes water.
Edmund's next words surprised him. "Are they all related to you?"
Romel had walked over and released an old woman from her chains. He knew her well. "Not just to me."
The woman looked at Edmund. Though she looked haggard there was an air of kindness about her. "I was once married to an Irin named Onno, dear." She looked at Romel with hopeful eyes that so desperately countered his own sorrowful ones. "Is he here?"
Romel glanced back quickly. "Hale is dead,"
At her crestfallen expression it dawned on Edmund that these weren't just family members from this lifetime. They were family members from previous lives as well. "Oh. But he'll be back right?" Her blissful smile returned as if she hadn't heard a word.
Romel saddened further. "No, Santi, we talked about this, remember?" He kept his voice low as to not scare her. She had been forgetful for years. Hale had always been so patient. He had explained to his wife of a previous life that he wouldn't be coming back once he died. This was the last years they would have together. It hadn't seemed a terrible loss since Santi was old and near death already. But now, looking at her heartbreaking expression Romel felt all too acutely the premature death of his close friend.
He turned to look at the others that Valera, Archer and Thale were freeing. Edmund was standing frozen in the middle of the room. Some prisoners were barely adults, but most were older. Grandparents, parents and a few children. Brothers and sisters. All of them somehow connected to the Irins. He noticed a young boy, barely three years old, looking around the gloomy dungeon with tears filling his wide eyes.
Before Romel could move Edmund had. His breath left him at the stricken look on the king's face. "It's alright." he whispered.
The boy looked at him a moment before he stretched out his chubby arms and reached for a hug. The young king pulled the boy close to him and hiked him into his arms as he stood. When he turned he caught Romel's eyes. "Shh, it will be alright. I'll get you out of here." he whispered to the boy who was clinging to him like a monkey. With his suddenly black eyes on Romel he stepped to the door and into the torchlight. There was an unfamiliar softness about him. Something almost childlike and protective.
"You should give him to Ali," Romel called when the last prisoner was released. Edmund turned and he pointed to a young girl who was huddled close to two, older people. "She'll take good care of him." He didn't know how he felt about Edmund carrying one of their own.
The king looked down at the boy who was staring up at him in a most idolizing way that almost broke his heart. The young girl walked over and held out her hands. The boy, instantly recognizing her, reached out. As he made to pass him along Romel saw a flash of agony skate over Edmund's face. "I won't forget you, alright?" he whispered when the boy suddenly changed his mind and reached back for Edmund.
It surprised Romel, this protective nature he suddenly witnessed. When Edmund joined the others in the hall he leaned in and asked the Irin who the boy belonged to. Romel stared at the king a second. "No one. He's one of us." The broad-backed Irin took off down the hall with Edmund staring at him as he went.
Together the group intended to make their way out of the castle, through the tunnel. Romel had no mind to take the prisoners into the chaos of battle if he could help it. He only hoped King Peter had been able to move the fighting from the forest to the castle courtyard. When they reached the tunnel entrance he paused when Edmund did, seemingly to let the prisoners out before them. Romel noticed something in his eyes and narrowed his suspiciously. Valera and Archer stopped as well, though both were unsure as to why. The only one who was sent on was Thale. "Go ahead." Romel called. "We'll be out soon." The young man nodded and disappeared into the dark.
"What are you thinking?" Valera asked quietly.
Romel half shook his head without taking his eyes from Edmund. "You tell me?"
The king was about to answer when something stopped him. His eyes blanked out and his head tilted towards the dungeons. "My brother's attacking." he mumbled. He looked up at the stone ceiling.
"How do you know?" Romel asked.
Edmund looked at him with an expression the leader of the Irins had never before seen in the young man. "Because he's my brother." He faced the hall that led deeper into the castle. "I have to help him."
"Then let's go." Archer urged and headed into the escape tunnel, but none of them followed. "Before the bloody ceiling falls on our heads?" The Irins kept staring at Edmund who was staring in the direction they had just come. Into the castle. Away from the tunnel.
"Ed?"
"I can't." he whispered. He turned back to Romel. "They took my people and hurt them." Something ravenously hungry slipped into Edmund's voice though his eyes still had their youthful look from before. "They're not getting away with that."
Romel saw what was happening in the young man and inched closer. He put a hand on his shoulder to restrain him. "King Edmund, the best way to help your brother is to join him outside the wall." He knew what hatred tasted like. There was nothing better in the world than undiluted anger. The metallic taste of blood in the mouth. The feeling of being invincible.
"No," Like a predator growling, his entire body tensed and he slipped out of Romel's hold. "No." Then with a flinch he was off. He sprinted down the halls and barely acknowledged that the Irins followed. He ran around a corner and Romel put on a burst to keep up. They found him in a grand, empty room. He could hear men shouting outside. See fire through the matted glass windows. The footsteps behind him hadn't robbed Edmund of his focus. Romel didn't like what he saw. He didn't quite trust the boy to act in their best interest at that moment.
With his shoulders set he stalked over to the door and slid it open. It groaned a little as its hinges strained, but didn't draw attention. Romel stepped out behind Edmund and drew his weapons slowly. Men were arming the walls, taking bombardments of fiery rocks. A specialty Peter had adopted from the Black Dwarves.
Most Dwarves were miners and knew every rock in the ground. They knew which stones were the heaviest, which stones could take the most pressure, and even which ones were flammable. Only a few places could one find such stones, and only in the Western Wild. Here the foundations were harder. Natural gasses had been trapped and pressed so hard they had turned, first to liquid, then to stone.
Peter had learned how to mine them. How to use them.
The chaos that met the four friends made them all pause their advance. Edmund watched flaming boulders soar over the walls and had no doubt that his brother had thought of some ingenious way to hurl them into the air. "Catapults." he said with a feral smile. "He made catapults."
Romel looked at him in shock. For the voice that spoke those words was nothing like the voice he had come to know. "Seems unwise to be behind enemy lines then." Archer bit out, but didn't move from their sides.
Edmund just smiled wider and much more aggressively. "Only if you don't know what they're aiming for." He raised a hand and pointed. "My brother is targeting the wall instead of the castle because he knows we're inside." His smile turned to a surprised chuckle. "He's coming for us." While this revelation only brought Edmund peace, the others felt nothing of it.
In fact the three of them were quite scared for their young friend. They had never seen him this way. Didn't know he had it in him. "Where do we go then?" Romel asked worriedly as another boulder crashed against a far wall and exploded into tiny, burning shards.
"We stay here." Edmund growled and backed up, pushing his three friends back as well.
As he said it the leader of the Telmarines, who was trying to avoid the flaming boulders hitting his walls, turned and saw the four intruders. He raised his sword and bellowed out in fury. "Enemies! The wall has been breached!" A whole host of Telmarine soldiers turned as one and suddenly noticed Edmund and the three Irins for themselves.
With war cries they climbed down from the walls and charged. Edmund drew both his swords and took a stance Celer had drilled into him. One foot in front of the other, perfectly balanced. "Nobody move! Let them come to us!"
The Irins obeyed and drew their own weapons. Romel would have guessed a great many things about this night and would have been right. What he couldn't have foreseen was the change that came over Edmund. He transformed into something else. A different king, because there was never really a time when he hadn't been one. But he seemed to reveal more layers with every new day. The change left Romel feeling unsure. Old fears began pulling at him once again. A need to run. To hide from his king as he once had.
Then suddenly, like a wave, all his thoughts were washed away as the enemy struck. The heavily armed soldiers ran full throttle into the four with the fury of men possessed. Without feeling Edmund began swinging his swords. Cutting through their defenses with the ease of a well-trained soldier. One by one they were cut down by either himself or one of the other three. But neither of them moved. They held their position though firebombs began falling further and further into the courtyard.
"He knows what he's doing!" Edmund yelled when he saw Archer flinch back and make a half turn to run. The large Galmanian froze and turned back to the fight with a growl. Just then Edmund realized why Romel trusted him so much. Though abrasive, though hostile, he was a true friend. Concerned for those he cared about. Loyal only to his own sense of justice. Angry. Edmund recognized most of those qualities either in himself or in one of his siblings. And just like that he stopped seeing Archer like a stranger and started seeing him like a friend.
Romel noticed with distain that several Telmarines were slipping past them. Into the castle. Trying to hide from the bombardments. He was having doubts whether or not to follow.
Then a great boom shook the very air they breathed, and Edmund was proven right. The wall in front of them began quivering. Several Telmarines were dead at their feet and most were now running past them for the safety of their castle walls. Edmund kept his swords out and waited for the telltale sign that they had won. When the wall crumbled he was reminded of the earthquake that took many of his friends from him. He stiffened and waited for the tremors to settle.
The rumble was replaced with the roar of an army of horses bursting into the courtyard with Peter leading them. Edmund spotted Zoren and Rillian with the first wave of men and felt immensely proud. To his brother he raised his sword and called out. "NARNIA!"
Peter, drunk on victory, raised his own and called back. "For Narnia!" When their cries settled everyone noticed that the only Telmarines who had survived had hid inside the castle. Peter trotted to his brother's side and dismounted. "The Irins?"
"We sent them out. They should be safe." he panted. The fire had returned to his eyes. His smile as well.
Peter saw and smiled back. "The women and children?"
Edmund knew to whom he was referring. It was law in Narnia that any enemy who surrendered was treated as a prisoner of war. Tried before a council, and the kings and queens themselves. "I saw no one but the soldiers. The women must have fled before we came."
"Or they're hiding somewhere inside." Peter said, nodding. He clapped his brother's shoulder as a gesture for him to follow. Together they stepped up to the closed door and faced it with their makeshift army behind them. "If anyone inside wishes to surrender, let them do so now." His clear voice carried easily through the night.
Edmund had no doubt they could hear him inside. And yet no one answered. Peter glanced at his brother. Ed shrugged. "Keep trying."
Behind the kings Romel and his two soldiers were watching carefully. Thale joined them, slightly winded and turned to watch Peter as his friends. Though accustomed to war and killing, they had only seen the old wars. Glorious as they were there was no longer any place for undisputed victories. There was always diplomacy involved. That and mercy were tools of the new age. Tools the Irins didn't necessarily possess. Edmund realized then that he might have something to offer them after all.
With a quick smirk he stepped forward with his swords lowered. "I am King Edmund the Just," His voice hung in the night. The only other sound was the crackling of torches. "Surrender to us and you will not be harmed. You have my word." It echoed over the high walls and through the cracked windows.
It had taken almost five years, but Edmund had learned that his word carried weight in almost all situations. Perhaps even more than the word of his siblings. He was the Judge. The Just. The one any man or woman could come to for righteous treatment. It was a reputation he had sacrificed a lot to earn. One he intended to not only keep, but honor. No matter the trials he had to go through along the way.
A few tense seconds passed until the door opened a crack. Silence and darkness hid behind the massive gate and unsettled the Narnians more than it soothed them. There was no response. "If you do not reply it will be seen as a refusal and we will enter." But for every situation where diplomacy was expected there was also a line. One both kings had crossed. If a direct answer was not given it was seen as a rejection of the offer. Diplomacy was over, now came the ultimatums. He glanced at his brother and nodded. Edmund raised his swords and moved forward while Peter signaled his soldiers.
In this situation Peter realized they were at a disadvantage. The nomads had no idea what the signal meant. Only the few Narnians with them understood their meaning. As such only the Narnians advanced through the lines. The nomads and Irins nervously handled their weapons. Edmund leaned against one side of the gate and pushed the other open with his sword. With a glance back at Peter he entered.
Romel flinched forward. "Edmu-"
Peter held up a hand to silence the rest of Romel's argument and moved into position to follow his brother when he gave the word. It came only seconds later.
"It's clear."
Peter entered with his soldiers right behind him and rest behind them. The main hall that Edmund had passed was massive. High ceilings and one, large, cracked window. But it was empty. "Where could they have gone?"
"Possibly out the same way we came in." Edmund mused. He kept his swords at the ready. "We should search it." He looked back at his brother.
Peter nodded. "We split up in teams of ten. Barrow-"
"They stay with you." Edmund interrupted and looked back at his brother again. "Romel and the others come with me." He pointed to Romel who nodded.
Peter spent a few moments in doubt while Romel called out for backup. "Zoren, you're with us." It seemed the decision had been made for him as Edmund made his way deeper into the castle without any of his royal guards. It wasn't that Peter didn't trust the Irins' skills, but their own soldiers knew their kings better. Knew Edmund better.
"Don't let him wander off." he shouted to Romel.
The Irin looked back and nodded before following his king. But Edmund was fast. He had already rounded the first corner without backup. Romel, Valera, Archer, Zoren and a few of his men were already falling behind. After a few tense seconds Romel found the young king in a room. A private quarter. Blood red velvet curtains framed the window and a large post-bed that was placed in the center.
"Looks like a woman's room." Romel commented as he and the other two looked around. Zoren and his men had moved past the room and were searching further down the hall.
Edmund took a deep breath before he turned. "It doesn't matter. As far as I can see the castle is divided into two wings. My brother is searching the other one. We should continue."
"What are we looking for?" Archer asked, fingering the curtains.
"Any sign of life."
"And what do we do if we find it?" Valera asked.
"You keep them there. Unharmed." His dark eyes masked his age for one second. For just a moment they seemed to belong to someone twice his age.
Romel didn't know it then, but that was the first time he saw the real Edmund Pevensie.
Without a word the king turned and left the room. He hadn't liked what Valera had insinuated. They were not murderers. He and his brother followed the rules of engagement. He half ran down a hall and turned a corner for privacy when he suddenly began panting. Lauviah's face flashed before his mind's eye. A memory of the last time he had seen her smile. It hit him again that she was gone. That Arthur and Hale were gone. With one swipe of someone's weapon, loose soil and tumbling rocks, they had just ceased to exist. Ripped apart in the forest. Crushed to death. Tears welled up and joined his rapid breathing. He heard some of Zoren's men talking down the hall and dove into a room. He didn't even look to see if it was empty. That would be his undoing.
"Hello, King Edmund." a feminine voice greeted.
He whirled around and came face to face with Nimwey. "What are you doing here?" All the hairs on his arms stood up and his fingers tightened around the twin swords on instinct.
"I was waiting for Romel." She glanced at the door.
"It was you," he hissed. "You sold the Irins to the Telmarines."
She began circling him and he followed. "It's what they deserved." she answered in a low voice. "They did the same to me many years ago." Her face contorted in a quick sneer. "Traded my life for theirs."
"How?" He didn't believe her, but something warned him about getting into an open fight with her. She would win.
"They left me on the field of battle after the witch cursed us. I died there while they fled." Her voice was no longer that of a human. She sounded more like the wolf she had once been. "I've been searching for them far longer than you can understand." She kept dancing around him and he kept evading her. "Then one lifetime I found them. I did to them what they had done to me."
"You betrayed them." he whispered.
"I hate them!" she hissed.
"And everyone they love?"
She smiled and raised her own sword. It was a slender thing. More like a scimitar than a broadsword. "You should've run." They had almost come full circle and traded places. She was closer to the door. Edmund almost by the window.
He felt a shiver of fear race through him as he stared into her eyes. She intended to kill him regardless of her own safety. He knew his men were just down the hall, but wondered how long it would take them to hear. How long it would take them to come.
With a burst of motion she lunged.
"CONTACT!" he yelled.
Her sword thrust out and he parried with a wild swing to the left. But she didn't stop. Instead she instantly lunged again and nicked his arm. Her movements were so fluent it was almost impossible for him to predict when she would lunge. Again and again her sword caught his skin. Once on the arm, twice in his side. She thrust out again and cut his chin. He was panting, and she looked as though she was barely out of breath.
She smiled and attacked. Her sword slid right past his half missing ear. Had it not already been gone he would've lost it. Had his head been an inch further to the right she would've taken the top of his head off. Instead of following her swing through to regain balance, and pushing the blade away, she somehow turned directions and swung at his chest. The tip ripped through his armor and into his skin, leaving a painful groove.
The one second he spent in shock she used to surge forward with the intent to kill him. Just as her sword was about to rip into his stomach the door behind them opened. A mighty roar and a stab of pain deep inside him before he sagged to the floor. He looked down and saw a patch of blood working its way through his shirt and armor. Right around the spleen if he was to guess. Possibly lower. It didn't matter. They were out of Lucy's cordial. He would be dead before they reached the Cair. He was certain of it.
He looked up dazedly to see swords clashing against each other. Nimwey was fighting Romel. One was fast, but the other was strong. She came at him and cut into him, but he looked like he hardly felt it. The next second he had his sword up and was sawing through her throat. More yells mixed with her gurgling. Archer and Valera entered the room. Archer stopped in shock when he saw Romel killing Nimwey. Valera instantly ran to check Edmund.
Her expression was carefully neutral and that was how he knew it was bad. "Get his brother." she yelled to someone in the hall. Zoren entered the room and sat next to him along with Valera. Romel was standing over Nimwey's corpse. Archer beside him. "She w-was too fast." Edmund moaned. It hurt to breathe.
A yell down the hall and stomping footsteps. He smiled when his brother entered the room. Peter's eyes were full of worry. He kneeled in front of his brother with a shell shocked expression. Edmund guessed he looked quite the sight. He smiled again.
And in a second Peter's concern changed. "You let him run off alone!" he barked at Romel.
The Irin made to argue, but was cut off when Peter next made a split decision.
"Zoren. I need your fastest horse." The nomad looked from one king to the other before he rose. Peter never looked away from his brother. "You will not die today." Peter said. He said it with such conviction that Edmund didn't dare argue. "Not today." Very carefully he reached down and picked his brother up like an infant.
He saw Valera grab his swords as he felt himself be carried out of the dark castle. "Did you f-find the others?"
"No." Peter was stomping outside to where Zoren was hanging onto a black, bucking stallion. His own Edmund knew.
"You'll never make it b-back." he whispered. Death didn't scare him, but his brother's sorrow did. His sisters' tears.
Peter and Romel helped him into the saddle before his brother swung into it as well. "Yes we will." With a swift kick they were off. Several others ran for their own horses and galloped after the kings, the Narnian soldiers closest behind. Edmund heard Zoren call for a mount. Did they intent to race back to the Cair in one group? He didn't doubt his brother would ride straight through whatever stood between him and Edmund's salvation. They were only about three days away from home, but that still seemed like too long to hold on. And over the mountain pass they wouldn't be able to ride. With a sigh Edmund sagged in his brother's arms.
But still. Riding through the deep forests with his best friend. He couldn't think of a better way to die.
AN: It's a long one since I didn't update for a few days. Sorry about that. Also any mistakes you found are mine and never be afraid to let me know :)