Chapter 21- We Hate Diplomacy
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=Castle of Joyeuse Garde, Southern March=
If ever a place was wrongly named, some whispered, it was Joyeuse Garde. Its namesake had been the castle of Joyous Guard, where in Arthurian legend the lovers Lancelot and Guinevere had found refuge. The spectacular scenery was certainly not the culprit. Bounteous fields stretched northwards before meeting the wild woods south of Beruna; and the imposing peaks of the Archen mountains framed the view to the south. But now it was the ancestral home of the Albas, stern folk who were feared but rarely hated, respected but almost never loved. And it was far from civilization, being the very southern tip of the castles and towns that dotted Narnia. It was not just a home; it was Narnia's first line of defense, and as such it resembled a military camp more than a proper manor.
"With respects, my lord, I could never bear to live here," noted Peepicheek as he and Lord Alba strolled along the battlements, wrapped in their greatcoats. It never ceased to amaze him how the scorching winds of the Great Desert could chill the bone by the time they had passed over the mountains. "It must be a quiet life."
"You and your people are always so straightforward," remarked Alba, with something resembling a smile. "But my people and I are tied to this land. I could never stand the cities, especially now with all the smoke. Let them build all the factories they want! But time stands still here."
Peepicheek twirled a whisker. "I wish I could persuade you to come along with the rest of Narnia," he said. "This is rapidly becoming the poorest part of the country. But we digress. My Queen Susan wanted a report on how the frontier is faring."
"Nothing more exciting than a few smugglers and the usual complaints about tariffs," said Alba, shrugging. "I am beginning to feel that the title of Warden of the Southern Marches is about as empty as that of Bearer of the Royal Napkin."
Peepicheek shook his head. "It's a thankless job," he said, not unkindly.
"It's not my job to be thanked." Peepicheek smiled, but Alba did not seem to find any humor in his own words. "Well, I shall in fact be riding to Beaversdam for a council meeting, so I can report to the Queen in person. Your regiment has full rights to my stores and facilities."
The mouse looked up in surprise. "You're leaving? Again?"
Alba nodded glumly. "You know how our monarchs are. One of them had an idea and then they couldn't reach an agreement on it amongst themselves, most likely. Well, fare ye well."
The mouse suddenly felt alone as he watched the Telmarine lord riding away at the head of a troop of men-at-arms and his own men training in the courtyard below. Reepicheep seemed to have a premonition that he would not remain long in Narnia, and so Peepicheek was slowly being eased into his master's positions- Head Mouse, Commander of the Tenth Battalion, and Army Inspector General. But having been second fiddle to Reepicheep for so long, he felt outmatched.
"Sir," came a voice behind him. Peepicheek turned to see a dwarf, in a fresh lieutenant's uniform. "Lieutenant Finnigan, reporting for duty."
"Ah, Finnigan!" exclaimed Peepicheek. "So good to see a familiar face! Welcome, welcome!" He stepped back when the dwarf remained at attention, and then remembered that he now outranked his old friend. "Of course, at ease, at ease." Peepicheek looked the other up and down, then grasped his hand. "You've changed, old chap. What brought you back into service?"
"I was at the bloomin' mine disaster up north," Finnigan replied simply. "Couldn't bear it any longer. If my time's up, I prefer it be as a soldier, not watching like some far-off bird as my fellows suffer. And then King Peter insisted on giving me back my commission. I didn't want any part of it; told him I'm just a common Narnian and all, but he wouldn't be stopped, like as if he'd be guilty if he didn't do it. Well, here I am, and I'm sure there's work a-plenty to be done."
"Yes, indeed. Finnigan, you're lucky you're only a lieutenant. I always thought of myself as just a common Narnian as well and now…" Peepicheek's voice broke off as he spotted an unmistakable flash of light reflecting off metal to the south.
"What's brewing?" asked Finnigan as Peepicheek srambled to the top of the battlements for a better look.
"I think you picked an excellent time to return to duty."
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=Beaversdam=
"Peter! You're alive! We were beginning to wonder what kind of skeleton would emerge from your room," Susan said with enthusiasm as she and Caspian rose from the settee on which they had been seated. "So glad you're fine," she added before pulling Peter into a hug that the others joined. "You must be starving." She did not mention the accident, and the others took the hint.
"A little," Peter admitted. "But that can wait! What have you all been doing?"
"Well, there was an ambassador from Terebinthia," sighed Susan.
"They aren't taking kindly to us trying to get them to follow our new laws," commented Edmund.
"I am so sick and tired of diplomats and diplomacy, of sitting and smiling as they drone on and on," Susan remarked. "I almost wish they'd just tell us to go to Tash and get it over with, since it's obviously what they're thinking."
"It's treason, really," added Edmund. "But of course we have to be just and listen to all their excuses."
"I shall have to go there to reassert Narnian sovereignty," Caspian said from the alcove where he had sat down again. "Do you remember how I swore that, when I had set everything in order in Narnia, I would find the seven lords Miraz exiled? It would be perfect, killing two harpies with one stone."
"Your heart isn't in order," smiled Susan as Edmund and Peter groaned. "Why don't you wait for a couple more years? Calmoren is still threatening us, and there's still plenty of work in Narnia itself."
"Very well, I suppose we could send Lucy to try to negotiate with them."
"Oh, no you don't," said the aforementioned monarch as she walked in, chatting with Alicia. "Do you think I enjoy diplomacy any more than you?"
"You can charm anyone, though, which is why you and Susan make such a great team," pointed out Peter.
"And of course I get dubbed as the logical diplomat every time," grumbled Susan.
"I'm surprised your Golden Age was so peaceful," laughed Caspian, "considering every one of you hates diplomacy. How did you settle arguments among yourselves without Alicia and me?"
"We're the Pevensies," replied Peter as the others stood on either side of him. "We may fight, but we'll always be united at the end."
Alicia felt just a twinge of jealousy as she saw the love that passed between all the siblings. Their greatest virtues seemed to complement each other perfectly. Peter was the visible leader, with his magnificence and ability to inspire others with a grand vision of things. It was natural for him to lead the Narnian armies, and now the industrialization. Susan was like a mother to the others; she played the role of conciliator when they argued, counselor when they had difficulties, comforter when they suffered. This extended to the people and to other nations, making her the ideal diplomat. Edmund was the real force behind the government. It was he who managed the finances, the justice system, the local bureaucracies, and all in a quiet and efficient manner. Above all, he was just; though not as loved as the more charismatic Peter or Lucy, he was the most respected by the people. And Lucy was quickly blossoming into a beautiful young woman, full of ideas on how to help her people and make their lives as joyous as possible. But it was her valiant faith in Aslan that stood above all else, and which helped guide the others through difficult times.
Alicia was content, though. She felt her mission was to help them live these virtues to the fullest. As a matter of fact, she was becoming convinced that Aslan had given her the title of "Faithful" as a reminder to never abandon her mission, even through all her failures. Peter relied more on others now, especially Susan and Edmund, while Edmund seemed to have moved on from his past. However, Susan was becoming more distant and absorbed in her work, and bitterness was clearly growing in Lucy, even though everybody still loved her. In her, Alicia was reminded of her own previous bitter attitude towards both Telmarine and Narnian society. And she felt she had failed Caspian. He seemed more and more like an administrator and not a king, though his people still loved him. Yet she was not bitter for having failed. She continued to talk with them and kept trying, never losing faith in Aslan. Alicia had gone through her own trial of fire already, and she believed that faith she had gained would never pass.
"You distracted me," exclaimed Lucy, "from telling you some wonderful news. The Master Builder at Cair Paravel sent word that it's ready to be moved into! There's still a lot of work to do, but it's habitable."
"We should move as quickly as possible!" exclaimed Peter. "That's wonderful, Lu!"
"Even now, I can't believe this is possible," Susan said. "To think that we're going to live there again, with all the memories…"
"They've even trimmed dear Lilyglove's apple orchard back to the way it was when we were there," Lucy informed them.
"It will be splendid to be in the throne room again," Edmund remarked. "Nothing against the throne room here," he gave a glance at Caspian, "but nothing could compare to that room…the light coming in through that beautiful stained glass, the banners, the slender arches and columns…"
"If only my dear Doctor Cornelius was still here to see it," remarked Caspian.
"I'm sure he's with Aslan now," said Alicia, putting an arm on his shoulder, "in a far better place."
"And I'm sure nothing would honor his memory more than for us to not live in the past, but to move forward," Peter stated. "He wanted us to found a new, better Narnia. This may remind us of the past, but I think we should think of it as part of the start of a new Golden Age."
The others remembered Cornelius in a different light, but said nothing. They did not want to break the magic of that moment with a serious argument.
"We must have a ball to celebrate!" Susan exclaimed. "What do you think, Lu?"
"I believe we haven't had one in over a year," noted the younger sister. This was true; with the duties of running a country, pursuits such as balls took a back seat.
"I say we move into Cair Paravel first," put in Edmund. And Susan actually agreed; the others could see she was remembering the grand parties they had used to have there.
"Longing to plan one again?" teased Peter.
"It has been a while," admitted Susan. "But I am. Oh, Caspian, Alicia, it will be so amazing once it's completed!"
"It sounds like Heaven, dear. I don't know how I shall deal with living in what my ancestors destroyed, though."
"Caspian, for the thousandth time, it wasn't your fault! Our own ancestors were barbarians too."
"It's rather funny," added Edmund. "There was a Roman civilization in Britain, with towns and monasteries, and then our ancestors came and destroyed all that. Within centuries, they were building the same towns and monasteries again and being civilized by them. I feel we're seeing our own history all over again."
"How does it all turn out, though?" asked Alicia. "I hope it doesn't all end like it has in your world."
"Let's not think about that," Lucy said. "Come on, you must all be starving! And I asked the cooks to prepare a special dinner tomorrow tonight to celebrate!"
"What is it? I haven't enjoyed a meal in weeks!"
"They're going to find some smoked eel! Do you remember how the marshwiggles would bring them whenever they visited? "
"Of course, considering how similar they looked," muttered Edmund.
The others laughed at the memories, but Caspian was turning rather green. "Eel?" he asked in disbelief.
The Pevensies regaled him with eel tales as they ate lunch. Alicia was happy to see everyone so relaxed. They seemed to be a perfect family again. But she felt sure that it was too good to last; something would go wrong. She did not expect how it would end, though, or how soon that would happen. It was that evening when a messenger arrived with the news, news that would represent a huge step in the downward spiral that about to overtake Narnia.
He rode hard into the city, his horse on the verge of collapse. His armor was rent and battered, and one could barely distinguish the red cross of Archenland on his blood-stained and ripped tunic. He was quickly ushered into the throne room, where the monarchs had been hastily gathered.
"By the Lion's Mane!" exclaimed Susan. "You must see our physicians."
"That can wait, your majesties," gasped the messenger. "Archenland has been crushed."
"The Calmorenes," growled Peter, as the messenger nodded grimly.
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