Disclaimer: Edmund and Peter Pevensie and all the characters and situations in the Chronicles of Narnia belong to C. S. Lewis and not to me.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR: ACTS 24:15
Peter drove the wagon as quickly as he could without drawing unnecessary attention to himself or his cargo. The Dwarfs and the cure for the Aned Tahwen, the Silver Plague, were concealed in the back, and the growing darkness would help them stay unnoticed. All Peter had to do now is find Edmund and bring him home.
All.
He laughed, softly and totally without humor. All he had to do was make his way through the city of his greatest enemy, the Tisroc (may he wither forever), find out if his brother was still alive and where he was being held, take him from his captor and, without being noticed, get himself, Edmund, eight Dwarfs and several large chests of rare earth to the docks. That done, he had to find a ship whose captain would believe a pair of ragged, battered and penniless slaves were truly the long-dead Kings of Narnia and agree to take them and the others all back home before the Calormenes found them out.
That was all.
No, he corrected himself. He didn't have to do all that. Not all at once. He had only to take the first step. The rest would come later. First, he just had to find Edmund.
He will have the privilege of . . . amusing some of my noble countrymen. He was purchased by a man called Tahir. Prince Shahrivar's words had run again and again through Peter's mind since the Calormene had spoken them. Did you think, High King, that I would leave him there with the noble Tahir without orders that, should anything happen to me, he be immediately executed?
"Aslan, please," Peter whispered. "Don't let it have happened yet. Please let me get there in time."
From hearing the Tarkaan's other slaves talk, he knew roughly where Tahir's house was, in the seedier part of Tashbaan, not far from the docks. But how would he free Edmund once he found him? No doubt Tahir had a house full of guards trained to protect him and see that none of his wretched captives escaped.
"Aslan, show me what to do." He listened, straining again to hear that voice he knew so well. "Show me how–"
Go to the lady.
Peter caught his breath. The lady? It had to be Lady Cemil. What other lady here in Tashbaan had ever shown him and his brother kindness? But Edmund–
Go to the lady, the Lion's voice said again, and Peter's hands tightened on the horse's reins.
The Tarkaan's palace lay just off the road he was on now, the road that led eventually to the docks and escape, but why would Aslan send him there? Perhaps Lady Cemil had herself somehow rescued Edmund from Tahir's clutches. Perhaps she had bought him and he was safely with her again. Or, oh, Aslan, perhaps everything Shahrivar had said was a lie, a lie meant to force Peter into doing as he wished. Perhaps Edmund was there still and had never left.
Peter urged the horse into a trot. The Tarkaan's house was also guarded, but he knew it well. And the guards tended to be lax. There was seldom any need for them there in the heart of the city. Peter was certain he could slip past them and get in to speak to Lady Cemil, perhaps even to Edmund. What he would do then, he did not know. The lady was not likely to give Edmund up willingly, not doting on him as she did. But Aslan had told Peter to go to the lady, and to the lady he would go.
It was near midnight when Peter pulled the wagon into the dense grove of trees near the Tarkaan's palace.
"Stay here," he told the Dwarfs, tucking the canvas more securely over the wagon bed, and then he drew his cloak more tightly around himself. The moon and stars gave light enough to see by, but it wasn't especially bright, and he had no trouble slipping in through the garden gate and stealing towards Lady Cemil's chamber. He froze when he saw someone sitting on the edge of the well and then smiled to see it was the lady herself. Her head was bowed, and he realized she was crying.
Go to the lady, Aslan prompted once more, and Peter crept up to her, silent and swift.
"Lady Cemil?"
She gasped softly at his whisper and sprang to her feet, but he grabbed her arm, shushing her.
"Please, Noble Lady, I only wish to speak to you."
He turned so the moonlight lit his face, and she put one hand to her mouth.
"Master Perren." Her eyes were wide with fear, not of him but for him. "You mustn't be found here. If you've run away from your master, you'll be caught and punished. You must get away while you can."
"My brother," Peter asked, keeping his voice low. "Where is he?"
She pressed her hand over his, tears welling into her dark eyes. "Oh, the poor boy."
Dread stabbed through Peter's heart. Had he been sold to Tahir after all? No, please, Aslan, no.
His hold on her tightened. "Where is he?"
"He– he ran away after you were sold again. I had my people searching everywhere and offered a most generous reward for any news of him. I could learn nothing until, just today, two sailors came and told me about a boy who had stolen onto their ship here at Tashbaan."
"Was it Ed– Was it my brother?"
"It must have been," she sobbed. "They described him so perfectly and said he mentioned my name. It must have been."
"Where did they take him?"
She closed her eyes, shaking her head and leaning on him so heavily that he was afraid she would faint.
"Where?"
"When they told him they would bring him back here for the reward, he–" She pressed her handkerchief to her mouth. "He leapt over the side of the ship and was lost."
For a moment everything stopped. Heart, lungs, mind, everything froze, and Peter knew only that one word. Lost.
Lost.
Then, sudden as a bitter blast of wind through a newly opened window, pain blew through him, searing, biting, burning. Go to the lady, the Lion had told him. Was it for this? Oh, Aslan, was it only for this?
He drew three hitching breaths, but he allowed himself only one nearly soundless cry. Then he hardened his expression. He had the girls to think of. And Narnia. They needed him. Edmund was safe in the paws of the Lion. Edmund was– Edmund–
Lady Cemil looked up at him, pitying tears streaming down her face. "I prayed, oh, may the great Tash forgive me, I prayed to his Lion that I might know what had befallen him. And this is my answer."
This is my answer.
The words rang in Peter's ears, but he pushed them aside. There would be time enough for grief, for mourning, when he was home, when Narnia was safe. Then he and Lucy and Susan–
He drew himself up straight and tall as if he were standing in the throne room at Cair Paravel. "I thank you, Lady Cemil, for telling me this and for the kindnesses you showed him and me while we were here." He touched a grave kiss to her hand. "I must go now."
"Not so quickly, barbarian."
Peter turned. The Tarkaan and two of his guards were standing between him and the gate. Between him and escape.
"Why have you come back here?" Hakan asked. "Have you not done damage enough?"
Peter did not flinch before him. "I came to find my brother."
"You and your brother have brought only misery to my house. The curse of Tash upon both of you and upon that day I bought the two of you and saved you from harsher masters."
Peter thought of Edmund that day in the slave market, scared and lost and blind. And now he was gone, and this man dared call down curses on him?
"We did you no wrong, Tarkaan. My brother–"
"Your brother ran away." The Tarkaan's dark eyes flashed. "My lady and mother made him as her own son, and he repaid her with thankless treachery. You see how she has wept for his loss. May the gods repay him tenfold the grief he laid upon her heart, and you for the trouble you brought between me and my Tarkheena."
"I never–"
"Curse you, boy, I know that now! After you left, she made a fool of me with another of my slaves, and I have sent her, head and feet bare, back to her father's house to live in shame."
Even in his own grief, Peter pitied the pain in the Tarkaan's eyes. "I'm sorry. I know you loved her."
The Tarkaan spat on the ground. "She is dead to me. Speak of her no more."
Peter glanced at Lady Cemil who stood before him, pleading with her eyes. "As you say, Noble Tarkaan. I wish only to leave here in peace."
Hakan snorted. "You are a slave. You must be returned to your master. That is the law." He nodded to his men. "Put him in chains."
Before they could obey, Peter shoved the lady to one side and leapt on the Tarkaan. In an instant, his dagger was at Hakan's throat.
"Stand down, both of you," he told the guards. "Stand down or your master dies."
"Wait! Don't!"
Peter caught a hard breath. He knew that voice. Oh, Aslan, he knew that voice! He started to tremble as a tall, slender shadow emerged from the trees near the gate, leading his band of Dwarfs, and then the tears sprang to his eyes.
"Ed."
Author's Note: Thanks to Ariel of Narnia for looking this over and objecting to the objectionable.
– WD