Threads
Chapter 11
The sky was painted with navy blue colors when both Pevensie siblings left Trufflehunter's burrow. Trumpkin was the last one, closing the door.
Half asleep still, Lucy noted Reepicheep's absence.
"He decided to leave before us. He wanted to gather his mice and be on time for the meeting," answered Trumpkin to Lucy's question about the Reep's whereabouts.
"Oh…" Lucy said. It was probably the first time that Trumpkin was overtly nice to any of them, Edmund noted.
They advanced away from Trufflehunter's home and into the forest, that was barely getting golden flakes from the sunrise. Their eyes were slowly adapting to the light.
Trufflehunter looked particularly apprehensive, turning around constantly: behind him and to the sides. Trumpkin walked behind the siblings. Edmund kept well aware of his surroundings, looking out for any weird shadows. But it simply seemed to be an empty forest. Not much difference to the ones in England, he noted sadly.
"Why d'you think he's so jumpy?" Lucy leaned in to ask her brother as they kept advancing. Trumpkin closed in on the siblings and answered Lucy's question before Edmund could.
"We always have to be this careful when going out," he said gravely, "we never know when there's a Telmarine lurking in the shadows. And if they were bold enough to capture Princess Eirene, then it'd be no surprise to find a whole army in the forests."
"Why? What would they do?" Lucy asked.
"Take us back to the city, parade us like curiosities," he spat, "and that is, if we are taken alive."
"How cruel!" Lucy said, full of disgust.
"This is why we need you," Trumpkin said, "to show them that have a claim on this land as much as they do. And to do that, we need Eirene."
The rest of the walk was somewhat silent. Trumpkin's words weighed heavy on the conscience of the two siblings, feeling guilty that they could not stop the anguish their people had to endure. He really wished that they could have somehow avoided all of this, even if that meant never knowing of Eirene existance.
Lucy had pointed out the change in Edmund's character when he said her name. She had been right, as she usually was. And the truth was that he really had known her for the shortest of time, but she still somehow managed to remain on his mind.
He felt somewhat guilty; having so many other thoughts to preoccupy himself with—finding Peter and Susan, somehow avoiding the devastating war, mending the damage they had done to Narnia by leaving, which then again, wasn't their decision—in order to understand the landscape better.
There were so many other things to think about, and yet his mind kept wandering back to Eirene. He'd known her for a couple of hours, but he couldn't shake her off; not because of the fact that she was the key piece in understanding the current situation, to figure out how to avoid the "devastating war", but because she was just her.
He kept replaying their sword fight in his mind. How her hair was braided and how that moved with the air every time she moved. Of the flowery smell the breeze brought to his nose. How her eyes twinkled whenever she talked about her future plans, and how their lightness complimented her medium olive skin perfectly.
It really caught him off guard. It really did. All throughout the 15 years they had ruled, and the during the 3 years they'd been back in England, no woman had ever caught his attention in such a manner. He'd been with some, but the endeavors had always been somewhat irrelevant. Flings that came and went. All nonsensical and senseless.
Edmund breathed out. He would comply with Trumpkin's and Trufflehunter's plan.
He knew he would, but he wasn't clear on the exact reason, yet. But without a doubt, the one that stirred deepest into his soul was the prospect of seeing Eirene again.
They advanced, and the sun set in its usual throne in the sky. Trufflehunter kept at the front of the party, but stopped when the horizon stopped showing endless tree trunks, and instead showed a plain ahead. Directly on their line of sight, a sort of pyramid covered by the ground and flourishing nature appeared.
Trufflehunter stopped and looked on. The four members of the party stopped to look, too. Edmund tried his best to recognize the place where he was, but his memory came up blank.
"What is it?"
"Aslan's How," Trufflehunter answered, "that's how we know it now, at least."
Lucy looked intently at the trees, at the way that the light fell on the plain.
"It's the Stone Table, Ed," she said.
They carried on advancing, and Edmund could fill a slight pinch of guilt, tugging away in his stomach. All had been forgiven, yes. No one blamed him for anything anymore. But he hadn't been able to forgive himself. He wondered if he would be able to ward off the feeling of unworthiness at some point.
"You'll meet everyone, and we can come up with a plan to retrieve Princess Eirene —oh, finally!" Trufflehunter said excitedly as they approached the entrance.
Reepicheep and a line of mice was there to greet them, all bowing with their swords near their hearts.
"King Edmund the Just, and Queen Lucy the Valiant, I have the honor of presenting my brave company of mice, at your disposal."
Both monarchs bowed in return, and Lucy stifled a giggle. They entered the How, with the mice behind them. Within the mound, it was almost labyrinth like. Endless corridors branched out, all looking exactly the same.
They followed Trumpkin and Trufflehunter, who were now leading them into the widest corridor. It was dimly lit, but Edmund could make out the engravings on the walls: pictures of their reign, a scene where the siblings were chasing the white stag. Edmund looked away into the vault that opened before them: the highest ceiling of the place, and the largest room, too. In the middle was the broken stone table.
There were other Narnians waiting in the room, Edmund acknowledged them with a nod.
"May I introduce Oden, my old friend."
Lucy grinned at all of them, but a wide smile covered her face when her eyes landed on Oden. Her heart would have leapt out of her chest, had it been possible.
"Mr. Tomnus?!"
Oden smiled but shook his head.
"I'm afraid not, your grace. But am his own flesh and blood."
The rest of the committee settled while they were talking. Edmund still looked at the table, and felt his mouth dry. So many mistakes had been done in the past, both intentionally and unintentionally. He had to make everything better, now. As much as he could.
"I believe there was a plan to free Princess Eirene from the castle?" Edmund started, looking at his allies.
"Right my liege—" a centaur commented, walking closer towards the center of the room.
Two days after her arrest, and Eirene had seen no one. She hadn't heard another human's voice.
Her ladies weren't allowed in, food was only slid once although the time she'd been trapped. Her quarters had been intended for a princess, and had been inhabited by one until recently, but they now felt not much better than a dungeon.
Her chimney had remained off since she woke up after Caspian's anniversary. No one was around to bring her firewood, and the nights were getting chillier. The best she could do was cover herself with every woolen garment and every blanket she had at her disposal. Her knuckles were cracked from the cold, and her throat was coarse from screaming at the door.
And it had only been two days.
The sun rose, and Eirene fled to the window to gather the warmth of the first sun-rays. Her wrists were chaffed by the handcuffs that they had let on her.
Eirene knew that if there would be a trial, she'd be bound for exile at best, and executed at worst. It was an incessant thought that plagued her both day and night. When the thoughts became too oppressive, she'd read a little bit to distract herself. Where it not for those books, her mind would have been in a much frailer state.
Unconsciously, she always selected the tales that mentioned Edmund. It was easier to picture someone she'd already met.
She wondered why was he even here at all, and not when she had needed the Kings and Queens of Old the most. Maybe her mind had invented everything—maybe there weren't any Narnians, maybe there wasn't any King of Old on the loose, neither. Maybe it'd all just been a coping mechanism.
Maybe Professor Cornelius had actually kidnapped Caspian for ransom, and she'd just been an unfortunate witness. Maybe no horn was blown. Nothing about the magic was real—it was all just a fairytale.
And now, trapped inside her own chamber, that felt no different than a dungeon, Eirene felt hopeless, at the mercy of people she thought would never harm her.
If she wanted to escape, the time to do so was slipping through her fingers. She needed to think of something.
If there real is all this magic, if Aslan and the Olden Kings and Queens were ever real… please…
There were faint sounds coming from all around the How, the clanging of steel against steel, the honing of swords, the clack of wooden arrows being thrown into leather quivers.
Edmund walked towards the room that had been designated as the armory, once he had changed into one of his old attires, retrieved from the treasure room. A gold red lion was on his chest, identical to the one he had been wearing when he broke the Witch's wand.
There was an anxious hubbub coming from the half populated room, with fawns, minotaurs and diverse animals preparing for the attack. Focusing on ¡ the rack of swords, Edmund found Lucy looking willfully at them. She had her dagger at her side already, as was her cordial, too.
"Oh! You found your gifts," Edmund said, recalling he'd left them at the treasure room.
"Yes! I think it was Nikabrik who gave them back to me—"
Lucy was too distracted by the noise in the room, but Edmund's brow arched. Why would he go into the room after I'd left it—" he wondered, but then lost his train of thought after hearing Lucy clearing her throat.
Broken from the trance, he found his sister still looking at the swords.
"D'you wanna take one, Lu?"
"I'm—well I thought about it."
Lucy turned to look at her brother in the eye.
"You know how Peter always thought that battles were something for boys—I know that I've never been in one, but I was wondering if—" she said nervously.
"You wanna come with?"
"Could I? I know that I've never done anything of the sort…" her eyebrows shot up into her forehead.
Edmund knew perfectly well that Peter didn't like for the girls to join them in any war. He never really questioned it, and although he couldn't imagine Susan wielding a sword for the life of him, the image didn't seem to be too wild for Lucy. Perhaps it had been Pete's attempt at protecting them from gruesome imagery, but overprotecting did as much damage as not protecting anyone at all.
He reached for a sword and flipped it over in the air to hand the pommel over to Lucy.
"It's not really a battle," he said, "at least I hope it isn't. More of a quiet endeavor, but—"
Lucy took the sword, her shoulder dropped with the weight.
"It's heavy," she complained playfully.
"You can use both hands; it lightens the weight. I'll show you how to fight, if you want—"
"Yes!"
"—but tomorrow—"
"Oh…" her eyes turned sad and her smile disappeared.
"You can still come with, Lu. You can be the lookout; you've always had an eye for details."
The smile returned to her face.
"I'll get changed then!"
Lucy left, and Edmund searched for the most similar sword to the one he owned during the Golden Age. He weighed several swords before finding the perfect fit.
He finally chose one and tied it to his hip. He stood by what he had told Lucy, about the operation not being battle. The clothes he wore, while regal, were only made of wool. He had no intention of spurring violence, but it was impossible to guess the intentions of others. He grabbed one of the leather armor-like garments, just in case.
He heard tiny footsteps on the ground, and when he turned around to the ground, he saw Reepicheep.
"The mice are ready, your grace," Reep said, "Your horse is ready as well."
"Let's go then, I'll just let Lucy know."
"Queen Lucy, your grace?"
"Yes, ready a horse for her, too. She's coming, too."
Reep, although surprised, nodded and wasted no time in following Edmund's commands.
When Edmund emerged from the How, night had already fallen, and Lucy was already on her horse. He could make the silhouette of the forest ahead.
"Ready, Ed?"
Edmund nodded. He thought that the next time that he saw the How, he'd be back with Eirene, and that he would be closer to understanding the reality of the country he once called home.
"Let's go, Narnians!" Edmund commanded, and the march began.
This is the first chance to make things right. I have to do it right—break the cycle of unintended disaster.