Disclaimer: I don't own Narnia or any characters you may recognize from the books or the movies, I wish I did but I don't... I also don't own the Narnian Calendar. It belongs to Elecktrum who was kind enough to let me borrow it for my story. Her own stories are awesome and you should go read them too.
Summary: After almost a year of conflict in both the North and the South, Narnia's borders are secured once more. Hope brightens as Narnia prepares for a year of peace. Yet, when shadows from the past threaten, will the light be smothered or shine all the brighter?
A/N: If you have not read the first eleven stories in the A Light in the Darkness main story arc (Awakened, Shadowed, Revealed, Concealed, Rekindled, Refracted, Reflected, Veiled, Unveiled, Eclipsed, and Obscured), I highly recommend you do so for the full experience. However, I have included a quick summary of the previous stories so if you want to give this one a whirl on its own, you can.
Chapter Thirty-Four: Ill Intent
Oreius had forced himself to slow his steps once he was in the Cair proper, not wanting to cause alarm if it was not necessary, but he still reached the council chamber before too much time had passed since he was first summoned. A little voice still whispered doubts as to the wisdom of leaving Alambiel without a personal guard but he silenced it as he entered the room. His colts were huddled together, both wearing grave expressions. They looked up at his entrance but the troubled looks did not fade even as his golden colt nodded to him. "Oreius, you got our message. Good. You need to hear this before we can decide on the best course of action."
He opened his mouth to inquire further as to the nature of the emergency but the words did not come when his colts moved slightly. Now he saw the Gentle Queen. Her eyes sought his before she immediately looked down. Oreius followed her gaze and could not help the scowl that appeared when he saw him. Dejen was slumped in a chair, a hand pressed against his left side, with the Gentle holding him upright. Oreius looked from the Gentle to his colts. "What is this?"
"Oreius, you have to listen to him. Please," Queen Susan begged.
His dark colt nodded. "We haven't heard much but what he's said so far was enough to warrant your presence."
Flicking his tail, Oreius turned back to the wounded man. "Then tell me."
The warrior from the Southern Isles opened his eyes and a faint groan escaped him as he tried to straighten. "You… You must understand, Centaur, that I was not always as I am. I was not always a sword for hire. This did not happen until I fled my true purpose after I was nearly killed in battle." He reached up to touch the scar pulling one corner of his mouth into a half-smile. "The same battle I earned these scars, yes. When I… When I failed to perish, the Tisroc sought to make an example of me for my rebellion. I was the slave of his will, sailing where he willed, killing where he willed. Then he offered me a chance… A chance to win my freedom. All I need do was sail North and kill the witch who had put a curse on his son, Rabadash. I had never turned my sword against innocents before and the only reason… The only reason I agreed to do this is because I was told the Gentle was a witch and we have no love for witches in the Southern Isles."
Dejen stopped, gasping and coughing. He pressed his hand more firmly against his side and groaned but he refused aid when the Gentle sought to give it. "No. I…I just need a moment." He met Oreius' gaze and continued raggedly, "The Tisroc is no fool. He did not permit me to sail with a loyal crew. Their loyalty was to the Tisroc and the Tisroc alone. But there was another." He groaned, closing his eyes, as he panted. Clearing his throat, he opened his eyes once more. "This man wasn't Calormene. He paid me to ferry him into Narnia hidden among the Zelaians. I did not know his plots, I swear by the Great Lion, I did not."
A cold dread swept over Oreius. He suddenly realized he was clenching his fists and he forced himself to uncurl his fingers. But he did nothing to soften the hardness of his voice as he gruffly demanded, "What is the name of this person? Who is he targeting?"
"He is-" The warrior's eyes widened as he cut himself off only to lunge at the Gentle, dragging her to the floor.
Both colts unsheathed their swords but didn't even have the chance to charge forward when an assassin's bolt whistled through the open window to clatter off the wall directly behind where their sister had been standing.
"Stay down!" Oreius shouted. He galloped to the door and flung it open. "Sound the alarm! An assassin is in Cair Paravel! Shut the gates! Find the one responsible!"
A cacophony of noise filled the once-silent halls as guards rushed to him and still others rushed to carry out his orders. The bells began pealing the alarm. Oreius had turned back to the room when he saw a familiar Leopard enter the room. "Sobek!"
The Leopard bowed his head. "General."
"Is Neith with the Princess Royal?"
There was a moment's hesitation but that told him everything. "Neith had only just left when I heard the bells."
A clatter of hooves announced Ardon's arrival and both Firemoon and Stormwind trailed in his wake. Ardon eyed where the Gentle was now cradling Dejen's head in her lap as he reported, "The gates have been closed."
Dread threatened to steal his breath as Oreius forced himself to ask, "Did anyone see my wife return before it happened?"
"No. The Princess Royal is not inside Cair Paravel's walls."
No. Aslan, no. How could this be happening? Duty warred with his heart's impulse and he turned to his colts, not even certain of what to say. His golden colt nodded. "Go. Find Kat and bring her back here. We have things under control for now. Go!"
He did not wait to be told again. Oreius offered only the scantest of bows before he started moving. He waved to Ardon and his cousins. "Come with me."
Galloping down the hall, Oreius could only pray that he was not too late. That the suffocating dread surrounding him would be for naught.
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Alambiel walked closer to the fence that marked the far end of the paddocks used for Cair Paravel's horses and any Horses who decided to use it as well. She often found Hwin and Philip there. Philip from the habit of staying close enough to be in easy call of his boy but she suspected Hwin did so because it was slightly familiar from her life before Narnia. Freedom was wonderful but sometimes too much freedom could overwhelm the senses. Even when it was both desired and infinitely precious.
If she had not promised Oreius that she wouldn't go very far, she might have made her way to the beach to await his return or Neith's arrival. She sighed. At least she was certain Pepin was out of the stables today. She had just braced her hands on the fence when she heard steps behind her. Too heavy to belong to any Cat. Muffled hooves. She turned with a smile, expecting to see the Kentauri.
Her smile froze as she was confronted with a Centaur who was most definitely not Oreius. His red hair and beard were matched by his blood bay coat. But his brown eyes were hard as he met hers and he kept one hand on the hilt of his claymore.
Alambiel didn't permit her unease to show as she faced him. Although she did let her smile fade. "Marius." He had been banished from Narnia. He shouldn't have been able to even cross the border without word reaching Oreius or the kings. Threatening a royal was a serious charge and repeated threats were never ignored. She didn't like that he was here. She didn't like that she had no one with her. At any other time, she would not have been so worried about defending herself even against a Centaur. But even she could not say for certain that she would be able to protect herself without risking her unborn child.
Raising her chin even as she kept her hands where he could see them, Alambiel coolly noted, "I must confess to surprise at seeing you here. The last news I had of you was that you were touring Ettinsmoor and possibly the lands beyond the Lantern Waste. Have you had a pleasant trip?"
"Those are rich words coming from one such as you," the Centaur retorted. His hard gaze flitted over her as he added, "Though I suppose I should expect nothing less from an enchantress. Still I should thank you."
Something in his tone made her want to flee but she wasn't going to be able to put enough distance between them fast enough to keep from being caught. He was too close and, unlike Oreius, any chasing he did would not rise from playful intent. Even if she could reach one of the trees she feared he would not hesitate to hurt her in his quest to bring her down. No, the best way to protect her little foal was to stay still and pray someone noticed what was happening before it was too late. She licked her lips. "Why would you thank me? Last I heard gratitude was the farthest thing from your mind as far as I was concerned."
"You are right. However, I must offer my thanks that your habit of wandering past Cair Paravel's walls without a sufficient guard remains unbroken. All I had to do was wait for the signal that the General had left your side. You have made things so much easier."
"Marius, I don't know what you're planning but believe me when I say it is not worth it."
"I disagree."
The Centaur leapt at her. Alambiel ducked beneath his arm and unsheathed a curved dagger. She raised it in warning. "Walk away, Marius, before you make things worse for yourself."
He didn't respond. He only charged. She slashed at his outstretched arm, drawing blood, but he still grabbed her wrists. She stumbled back in an attempt to keep from falling beneath his hooves. Planting her feet more firmly, she tried to break his grip or to turn her hand so she could slash at him again. But he didn't give ground.
Alambiel cried out as hot pain lanced from her wrist when Marius viciously twisted her arm so the dagger's tip now faced her. He pushed on her, forcing the tip closer to her stomach. No! Aslan, give me strength! Please!
Fear and adrenaline coursed through her veins, making her heart thunder in her ears, as she fought to keep the dagger away. The sound of rushing feet gave her hope but she didn't dare to look back. All her focus was on keeping that dagger from sinking into her own flesh.
But no one attacked Marius.
The thought barely registered before pain exploded from the back of her head and she nearly collapsed. Marius' grip on her wrist slackened and she was able to turn the blade away from her just as another blow landed on her head. She wavered. Blackness swept over her and her last conscious memory was of the churned grass rushing up to meet her.
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A/N: Please Read and Review! O.o