Disclaimer: I own Vaslin, but nothing else.

Chapter 8:

It was a silent march back to the How. The sun had just risen when they climbed up the final hill. Lucy was there to greet them, her excitement quickly fading as she noticed something was wrong. A few others reluctantly came out behind her. Peter and Caspian stood at the front of the returning troops grimly.

"What happened?" Lucy asked, sounding heartbroken at the sight of the diminished group.

"Ask him." Peter said bitterly, pointing to the prince.

"Peter." Susan warned.

"Me?" Caspian asked in disbelief. "You could've called it off. There was still time."

"No, there wasn't, thanks to you." The High King retorted. "If you kept to the plan, those soldiers might be alive right now. Vaslin might be alive."

"And if you'd stayed here, like I suggested, they definitely would be!" The prince snarled.

"You called us, remember?"

"My first mistake."

"No. Your first mistake was thinking you could lead these people." Peter sighed, turning away resignedly.

"HEY!" Caspian roared. "I am not the one who abandoned Narnia."

It wasn't even our fault! "You invaded Narnia. You have no more right to lead it than Miraz does. You, him, your father...Narnia's better off without the lot of you."

Caspian drew his sword with a scream of anger. Peter was quick to intercept it with his own.

"Stop it!" Edmund ordered, helping Glenstorm lower Trumpkin's unmoving form to the ground.

Lucy hurried forward, grabbing her cordial. She knelt down beside the dwarf, opening the bottle. Peter turned back to Caspian, watching the prince stalk into the How. He looked around, seeing Glenstorm and his wife exchange an emotional glance. Some of the other creatures looked heartbroken too, others ashamed of their rulers, slinking away from them.

Vaslin wouldn't have let us fight like this.

There was a gasp from Trumpkin as he returned to the world of the living.

"What are you all standing around for? Telmarines will be here soon enough." The dwarf growled, before softening his voice and addressing Lucy. "Thank you...my dear little friend."

Peter sheathed his sword, ashamed of himself.

*X*

Peter sat in the How, in the room with the Stone Table and Aslan's engraving. The room where he had almost let the White Witch return. He couldn't believe that he had nearly betrayed the Great Cat, nearly undone everything they had done the last time they had been in Narnia.

Sitting on the edge of the broken Table, knee in one hand, he slowly began to wonder if Lucy and Vaslin had been right. Maybe Aslan wasn't gone. Maybe he could help. That maybe he should've allowed the lion a chance.

Lucy silently sat down beside him, heaving a sigh. She looked up at Aslan's carving.

"You're lucky, you know." Peter told her.

His little sister turned to him. "What do you mean?"

"To have seen him." He explained quietly. "I wish he'd just given me some sort of proof."

"Maybe we're the ones who need to prove ourselves to him." Lucy suggested.

"Do you...do you think Vaslin's still alive?" Peter asked, knowing his sister had always had a strong bond with their adopted brother. If anyone knew his fate, it would be her.

"He is. I know it." She told him confidently.

"Pete." Edmund entered the chamber. "You'd better come quickly."

The three siblings hurried to the top of the How, overlooking the plans. Emerging from the woods was an army of Telmarines. Thousands of them. They even had catapults with them. Horses raced down the middle of the ranks, crossing to line up in front of the first rank as the army came to a halt.

A few Narnians stood outside the How, watching their arrival.

Peter exchanged a glance with Caspian.

On a white horse, clad in full golden armor, was Miraz.

*X*

"I, Peter, by the gift of Aslan, by election and by conquest, High King of Narnia, Lord of Cair Paravel and Emperor of the Lone Islands, in order to prevent the abominable effusion of blood, to hereby challenge the usurper Miraz to single combat upon the field of battle." Edmund read from a scroll, before the Telmarine King and the army generals. "The fight shall be to the death. The reward shall be total surrender."

Miraz did not look pleased. "Tell me, Prince Edmund-"

"King." He corrected, rolling up the scroll.

"Pardon me?" The other man frowned.

"It's 'King Edmund', actually. Just 'King' though. Peter's the High King." Edmund pretended not to notice that's not why he was called a prince. "I know, it's confusing."

"Why would we risk such a proposal when our armies could wipe you out by nightfall?" Miraz asked pointedly.

"Haven't you already underestimated our numbers?" The King bluffed. "I mean, only a week ago, Narnians were extinct."

"And so you will be again."

"Then you should have little to fear."

The Telmarine leader laughed. "This is not a question of bravery."

"So you're bravely refusing to fight a swordsman half your age?"

"I didn't say I refused."

"You have our support, Your Majesty." One of the generals spoke up. "Whatever your decision."

"Sire,"Another said,"Our military advantage alone provides the perfect excuse to avoid what might otherwise be-"

"I'm not avoiding anything!" Miraz stood up, drawing his sword, turning on the man.

"I was merely pointing out that my Lord is well within his rights to refuse." The man defended.

"His Majesty would never refuse." Another general told him. "He relishes the chance to show the people the courage of their new King."

"You." Miraz pointed his sword at Edmund. "You should hope your brother's sword is sharper than his pen."

"May I request one more thing?" Edmund asked hopefully.

*X*

Vaslin looked up from where he was tied to a tree as two Telmarine soldiers approached him. One tossed a cane down at his feet, while the other cut the ropes that bound his wrists to the tree's trunk.

"What's going on?" He dared to ask, rubbing at the raw skin of his wrists.

"Come" was the only explanation offered.

The former wolf grabbed the cane and hauled himself to his feet. Despite the fact that he was leaning on his other leg, his broken ankle throbbed painfully. He followed one soldier as ordered, hearing the other one walk behind him. He wondered where they were taking him. To an execution, perhaps?

He was pleasantly surprised to be led up to the temporary council hall, where the generals and Miraz sat. Edmund stood before them patiently.

"There he is." Miraz nodded in Vaslin's direction. Edmund glanced at him, too, for a brief moment. "Now, go inform your brother that I have accepted his challenge. We shall meet in half an hour."

"Challenge?" Vaslin echoed, confused.

"I'll explain later." Edmund promised.