'Six more days. If I can paste on a smile for six more days,' King Edmund muttered.

I narrowed my eyes a bit, watching the back of his head from where I stood a few steps above him and tried to discern what he might mean. He half turned and gave a conspiratorial roll of the eyes, but said nothing more.

At the sharp call of a merry horn, the gates of Cair Paravel heaved open and the Archen Court rode through. While waiting for Rabadash, King Peter, King Edmund, and Queen Lucy had been stiff and watchful, now they were filled with the warmth of expectation. Susan, on the other hand, chewed her lip worriedly.

If possible, the Archenlanders were merrier than the Narnians. The King had a twinkle in his eye and a ruddy face which reddened even further when he laughed. The lords swung down from their saddles with the ease of men sure of a good welcome. But perhaps the most ostentatious of all was Prince Corin, who could hardly wait for the groom to take his reins before he jumped down from his pony and bounded up the steps.

'Hurrah! Father let me come and see the tourney!' He cried, barreling into Queen Lucy, who caught him, laughing. Then he turned to Queen Susan. 'And look! I came presentable and everything because Father said we were meeting your guests so I expressly did not ride through any mud puddles, which was very hard to do because there were some glorious ones.'

I snickered a bit, and King Edmund turned to give me a little smile. 'That's not even the half of him,' he murmured.

King Peter was shaking King Lune's hand and saying 'Well met, sir,' and Lune laughed a booming laugh. 'Well met indeed, Peter! Well met indeed.'

In short, I longed to be friends with them and for the first time felt quite sure that someone would happily accept my friendship.

Prince Corin, meanwhile, had turned to Rabadash. 'Hullo. I'm Corin. I suppose you're the Calormene Prince everyone's going on about?'

For a moment, Rabadash looked utterly nonplussed. He did not know what to do with someone who was so forward with his manners but of the same rank. He glanced at Queen Susan, who was giving Prince Corin a look of fond exasperation and bowed. 'O my prince, may Tash bless this meeting of the future heads of two noble nations.'

Prince Corin screwed up his face as Rabadash bowed, and I had to bring my fist to my mouth and turn away to keep from laughing.

After the greetings were finished, we proceeded inside for lunch. Prince Corin chattered to Rabadash, who still seemed not to know what to do with a prince of the blood who so boldly disregarded his rank. When Prince Corin turned to talk to someone else, Rabadash curled his lip as he bent over his food. I watched further, but he did not let his mask slip any more during the meal.

Once everyone had eaten their fill, the High King rose and made toasts to both the Archen nobles and to Rabadash. Rabadash preened when everyone pledged him though he attempted to hide this with a bow of his head.

Then King Peter clapped his hands and declared, 'And so, to honour this gathering of our three nations, and honour our guest Prince Rabadash, we declare open a tournament of the most worthy competitors to claim prizes in swordplay, archery, and jousting.'

A murmur of excitement filled the room. The High King went on to explain how one might submit their name to the lists. I listened closely for already I had decided to enter my name.

That night, after the lists had been published, Lord Dar of Archenland sought me out.

He wrung my hand in his hearty Archen way and declared, 'As we're meant to fight each other in the morning, I thought I'd come and introduce myself.'

He told me that he had twin brothers, but the elder had died before he was born in the final raid against the White Witch before the Liberation. Dar and Darrin were not much younger than King Lune and Darrin remained this King's trusted friend. Almost a score of years later, his parents were surprised by Dar's arrival into the world. 'They thought it was a sign of hope, so they gave me the name of my lost brother' he said. 'There may have been some truth to that, because it wasn't many years after that the Winter ended. And here were are. What's your story?'

I told it, about my Calormene mother and Narnian father, their deaths, my father's dream that I should be something noble. 'So here I am,' I finished up. I stood stiff, waiting for him to say something about my being Calormene.

Instead he said, 'The Winter was hard, even on those of us who were outside of Narnia. It is good to live in a new age. So let us drink to that!'

I rose early the next morning to practice. I worked myself as hard as I could. I had not tried for the army again, but I had practiced every single day. I would have hired a fencing master, but I couldn't find one who was familiar with the Island style. After my disaster at the muster, I decided to stick with dual wielding. That was what I knew.

The trouble was, without a partner I had no idea whether I was good or terrible. I could only work hard and hope that would be enough.

After an hour's hard going I stopped to take a break and mop the sweat off my face. When I pulled the towel away from my face, a page in yellow livery stood before me. 'Lord Peridan. The King requests an audience.'

'Yes—alright,' I stammered, and I followed him through the halls to King Edmund's private bureau.

King Edmund was at his desk, lounging back in his chair as he held a paper up and squinting at it. When the secretary announced me, he put the paper down and sat up.

'Lord Peridan. You are very prompt.'

'As one should be when there is a summons from the King,' I answered. The words came out too fast, and the ironic note came into my voice before I could catch it. I held my breath, waiting for his displeasure.

He arched an eyebrow, but he also laughed through his nose. 'Indeed. I am very busy and important, and I hate to be kept waiting.'

I grinned. Then I dared. 'Well, you ought to get straight to business then.'

Here he laughed outright, then wagged his finger at me. 'Now my good Lord, I thought I could always count on you for impeccable matters. From whence this insouciance?'

I shrugged. He gestured me to the chair opposite him. We were both still grinning. He leaned his elbows on the desk and pressed his thumbs and forefingers together as he considered me. For a moment we watched each other, sizing up whether we could really be friends. Many of our conversations reached this same point, but we never pushed things further.

'So,' said Edmund, clearing his throat and sitting back in his seat. 'I see you've been practicing. I'm meant to ask you not to compete in the tournament. At the Queen's request.'

I stared at the polished wood in front of me, my brows drawing together.

'This displeases you,' he observed.

'If it is your Majesties' wish that I do not compete, I am of course willing to comply,' I said, but the words came out in a mumbled rush. 'I am ever your humble servant.'

'But you wanted to compete,' Edmund insisted. I had no more protests, so I remained silent. After a pause, he pressed, 'Why?'

I sat very stiffly, my hands folded in my lap. At last I said, 'I wanted to show you what I was made of.' I drew in a breath. 'You probably don't remember, but years ago, when you first visited the Lone Islands, there was an exhibition tournament held in your honour. I should have been invited to compete, but I was not. I went out for the army, but I performed miserably. I am better than that. I wanted the chance to prove it.' I felt a bit dizzy—I had not laid myself so bare to anyone but Orran, and of all people I chose the King. The silence which followed was painful.

'I know something about that,' he said in a very quiet voice. After a moment of further deliberation, he declared,'Keep your place in the tournament. If my sister's paramour is too delicate to withstand a challenge, perhaps she should know that now. It is hardly fair to ask you to cater to him.'

And so I faced off against Lord Dar the next day. I was shaking as I walked out into the arena with the Kings and Queens watching me, and the Archen court and all the spectators. But Dar grinned as though we were friends, and laughed with delight when I threw aside my shield and drew my second sword. 'A worthy opponent!' He cried. 'Come on then, let's give them a show.'

So I did. I quickly learned that Dar was a bit slow on his feet, and although strong, not a very clever fighter. I beat him handily, and when I helped him to his feet he laughed again and clapped me on the back.

That evening at the banquet many people came to congratulate me on my win, warm words of praise without any barbs behind them. Prince Corin even bounded up to me and wrung my hand. 'Hullo, I'm Prince Corin. Of Archenland. You were brilliant today! I've never seen fighting like that, with two swords. You'll have to teach me. I mean—you will, won't you?'

I blinked at him and managed to say 'if your highness desires to learn—'

'Then in a year or so, once you have your armour and are permitted to train as a knight, I am sure Lord Peridan will be glad to teach you.' King Peter cut across me. He murmured to me sotto voce 'If you agree now you will get far more than you bargained for. Trust me. I've tried to train him and had to give up. He is too hard headed.'

'I heard that,' Corin said.

'Do you deny it?' King Peter challenged, his hands on his hips.

'Of course not,' Corin declared, mimicking the High King's stance.

'I notice you have not claimed your dance from Susan yet,' King Peter observed.

Corin blew air out of his cheeks and seemed to deflate as he did so: his shoulders slumped forward and the smile slid from his face. 'No. That Rabadash is always hanging around her. It's like he doesn't want to let her go.'

For the briefest moment, I thought I saw a flash in King Peter's eye. 'Prince Rabadash does not outrank you,' he observed. 'You would still be well within your rights—and you know Susan is always loathe to deny you.'

'I think she might this time,' Corin grumbled.

'Go and give it a try,' King Peter said in a voice that was part command, part challenge, and part jest. He gave Corin a little push towards Susan, who was standing at the other end of the hall talking with Rabadash, her face tipped up to his.

Corin stumbled forward, pulling a face, but once he gained momentum he continued all the way to Susan. King Peter and I both stood watching as Corin strode up to them, some of his buoyant confidence returned. He levelled a gaze at Rabadash and wheedled Susan into a dance. Rabadash made a show of politeness to Susan and Corin's faces, but when their backs were turned, he glowered. King Peter huffed through his nose.

'I came over to say that was some very impressive fighting today. I've not known a man to double wield with such skill.'

'Your Majesty honours me,' I said.

'Because you are worthy of honour,' he said. 'Edmund was right to let you compete. I would love to see you have the chance to show Rabadash what for.'

I raised my brows. 'I would relish the chance myself,' I dared to say.

'I think all you will need is your skill.' He watched Susan dancing with Corin. She was laughing and free. 'Would that she would be so much herself with this suitor as she has in the past.' He clapped me on the shoulder. 'Aslan watch over your bouts and grant you strength.' And then he went to talk to King Lune.

The final day of Rabadash's visit found me in the arena, about to face off against the Calormene prince himself in the final bout. Even with the stands full, the crowd was quiet. Rabadash had kept everyone waiting so long that boredom had lulled the excitement and there was only the buzz of idle gossip. I started to feel a bit foolish standing alone in the middle of the arena in my glittering armour. No doubt this was part of his plan.

At last the sonorous moan of Calormene horns announced the prince's arrival. The audience roused themselves to some polite applause, but he greeted this as though he were receiving an ovation. He strode up to me.

'So,' he said, his lip curling into a tiger's smile. 'We meet on the field at last, Lord Peridan.'

I made him a bow but said nothing. He snorted. We walked over to the Kings and Queens. Susan bestowed her favour on Rabadash, and he kissed her hand, all manners, but the glitter in his eyes said he would suck on her fingers. Edmund was watching with barely contained disgust. I swallowed a snicker.

Queen Lucy leaned out of the royal box waving her favour. 'You'll wear mine, won't you, Lord Peridan? We can't have our Narnian champion carrying no favour.'

'My queen, I would be honoured,' I said, and went to take the favour from her. Rabadash glowered, but King Edmund gave the smallest of smiles.

We strode back to the centre of the ring together. I could smell the heavy musk of his perfume. So he wasn't trying to blend in so much anymore. I kept my eyes fixed in front of me, ticking over a plan, trying to focus on strategy when my heart was hammering. This was the bout Susan wanted to avoid seeing. She was standing very still, as though she were a statue.

Rabadash and I faced each other. 'I have waited for this moment,' Rabadash said in a growling whisper. 'Since I have been at court, everyone speaks your name in the next breath after my queen. But she is mine. Mine.' He bared his teeth at me.

I blinked at him. I knew the words I should say. I knew that I should make this a true contest for the Queen's hand: lay my claim to her, step up as a rival. But I couldn't. The words stuck in my mouth.

Rabadash drew his scimitar. 'I will brook no rivals, especially not half castes.' My eyebrows flicked upwards and he caught the brief expression of surprise. 'You think I don't know, but I see everything. I see that you have Calormene blood in you but try to masquerade as a Narnian. Tash will despise you for this, and your beloved Narnians will reject you.' He punctuated this with an attack, so sudden it caught me off guard. He drove me back.

The best I could hope for was a solid defence, and I just about managed it. Rabadash had the strength for a long and varied attack, but at last he fell back. He growled. 'Are you going to fight at all and scrape yourself some honour from clean battle? I will grind you into the dust either way.'

I tried to make myself think, give myself some sort of tactical approach, but my brain seemed to have stalled. Susan's face came before me, her blue eyes soft and sparkling with expectation. A dozen times, ten times a dozen, she had turned to me with this expression. Rabadash's suit should never have come this far. It should have been me, but it was not.

Rabadash drove me back again, and I only got out of that pass by ducking and running away. He roared and chased me down. He was swift and strong and clever. I could see how to defend against his attacks, but I couldn't make myself move fast enough to do it.

As our weapons locked, he leaned close to me. 'What son of a dog declines her? To see her is to want her. I will have her the instant she yields, and oh, I will make her yield. And there is you, who speaks not, does nothing. Only degenerate men behave so. You must be one of those faggots not to fight for your claim.'

I fumbled as he said the word, and he was on me, pressing his advantage. I tried to twist away and he hooked the tip of his scimitar in the gap in my armour, catching some of my scarred skin. I grunted in pain.

'Poor, delicate boy. Have I hurt you?' He twisted the scimitar, and as he pulled it away, sliced into the skin of my arm. I had not thought a mail shirt with sleeves necessary. I winced as the blade cut through my skin.

It wasn't a deep wound, but it was enough to hurt when I moved. Enough to take me off top form and give Rabadash a clear advantage. He did not hesitate to press this, and he drove me back, unrelenting until he disarmed me and I had to yield. The triumph in his face reminded me of Uncle's small nod when I lay in a crumpled heap after he beat me.

Rabadash leaned over me. 'Coward or faggot, I care not. For I will triumph over you every time.' Then he turned to accept the congratulations of the royals. I slunk out of the arena. Custom and manners dictated that I should have stayed and accepted my defeat with grace, but I couldn't. Not after seeing Rabadash puff out his chest as he strode towards Susan.

I thought to go back to my rooms in the castle, but my arm pained me enough to go to the medical tent. I showed the faun attendant my wound and he sat me on a cot. He applied a stinging salve before bandaging the wound, and told me to stay there and rest. I leaned back and stewed in my own thoughts. I didn't want Rabadash to be right. I tried to convince myself I loved Susan, that I too burned with desire for her. I conjured up images of being with her, lying with her, but all I felt was an odd detachment, a wistful wouldn't-that-be-beautiful, but never believing it could be me.

'So here you are. Not like you to not observe every rule of behaviour on the books, Lord Peridan, I must say.'

My eyes flew open. King Edmund and Queen Lucy were standing by my bedside. I made to get to my feet, but King Edmund put out a hand. 'No need,' he said. I nodded and slumped back, nursing my arm a bit.

'You're wounded!' Queen Lucy exclaimed. She frowned. 'That isn't right. Not in a tournament for sport. Let me go and get my cordial.'

'Your Majesty, no, I beg of you,' I hurried to say. 'A shallow wound such as mine does not merit the use of your precious cordial.'

She pursed her mouth. 'If we start thinking like that, no wound will ever be worthy of healing.'

'Even so. I have been well looked after, I assure you, and the wound will heal.' I did not add that such an embarrassing loss did not deserve such a balm of grace.

Queen Lucy looked at her brother, who shrugged. She relented with a sigh and drew up a stool. 'If it gets any worse though, I want your word that you will tell me and allow me to administer the cordial.'

I laid my hand over my heart and bowed my head in acknowledgement.

Edmund perched on a chair as well. 'You didn't allow us to congratulate you, my lord.'

'I didn't see that there was much to congratulate,' I frowned. 'I lost.'

'Still, you fought well. And getting to the final bout is no small feat,' he said. 'But I couldn't help but notice that Rabadash seemed to rattle you.'

I stiffened and twisted my fingers in my lap.

'Because here is the thing,' Queen Lucy said, leaning forwards. 'He rattles me too. And Edmund. But we can't quite say why.'

'I have never known my royal sister's instincts to be wrong,' King Edmund said with a nod at Queen Lucy. 'And watching you face him, I gather that you feel the same as us.'

I had to let some of it out. Perhaps for Susan's sake more than my own. 'I do. Some would say it is jealousy, but I promise you that is not the case. It is...his teeth are too white.'

Queen Lucy burst out laughing. 'Yes, that's it exactly, isn't it?'

'How can that be it?' King Edmund demanded.

'He's too perfect,' Queen Lucy said.

'It must be a facade he wants to polish if he puts that much work into appearing perfect. That cannot be who he really is,' I supplied. 'His manners are flawless in front of Queen Susan but when it was just the two of us he insulted me with base imprecations. He spies on members of the court, whispering in Calormene to his train. All trivial things, but still.'

King Edmund stroked his chin. 'Yes, I see what you mean. But how came you to know what he said in Calormene?'

'I speak it' I replied.

He leaned back, surveying me. 'Is this common in the Lone Islands?'

'Not particularly. My mother was Calormene, and my Uncle who helped raise me. He taught me the language,' I said. I wondered if they might question my loyalty.

'I see.' He rose and started to pace, taking measured steps with his hands clasped behind his back.

'Edmund,' said Queen Lucy, 'What are you thinking?'

'I am wondering whether to trust my instincts. They are not so finely honed as yours and I make better judgments after reflection.'

Queen Lucy tilted her head, frowning a bit. Then comprehension dawned and she turned back to me. 'Surely, Lord Peridan, you can see where all of this between Rabadash and my sister is going.'

'No doubt he wants to press his suit,' I said. 'Probably in Calormen. Narnia seems to sit ill with him and he would want the upper hand.'

'Yes,' said King Edmund. 'Exactly so. He has already extended the invitation. And though Queen Susan has not yet said yes—'

'We can all tell she's going to,' Queen Lucy finished.

I clenched my jaw, unsure how I could feel apprehension and relief at the same time.

'Meanwhile, King Peter rides north with the army to deal with the giants, which leaves me to play chaperone.' He sighed and folded his arms.

'And with Corin in your train as well,' Queen Lucy reminded him.

'Believe me, I have not forgotten,' King Edmund said, rolling his eyes.

I sniggered behind my fist. He glanced at me and smiled. I thought I knew what he was implying, but surely he didn't want me as part of the company. I tested this. 'It seems to me that your Majesty needs someone who could provide intelligence,' I ventured.

'Just so,' said King Edmund, meeting my eyes. 'Someone who speaks the language would do well.' He screwed up his mouth. 'I will not conceal this is a dangerous and precarious task. And Susan will not like your attendance.'

'I would say that's all the more reason for him to go,' said Queen Lucy. 'For we may as well be plain—all of us here think this match a poor idea.'

'It cannot come to good,' I agreed. 'Even if he was the most noble and gentle of men, a match between a crown prince and a sitting queen means that one nation must give up their ruler. It cannot be Narnia, but it won't be Calormen.'

'And that's only the first problem,' said King Edmund. 'Lord Peridan, I would have you come with us. Your keen judgment is exactly what I need. But I will in no way force you, and you will lose no respect should you decline so dangerous a mission.'

I thought of my father, and all his speeches on nobility. 'I could not turn away from such a duty,' I said. 'My service is yours, Sire, do with me what you will.'