THE DUEL blazes on, the sounds of clashing metal echoing across the plains of Beruna and to the edges of Narnia. I almost feel relieved to not be watching it, focused instead on my own mission. I have enough to worry about without waiting anxiously for one of the kings to kill the other. So long as the Telmarine army remains silent and watching, I know the fight rages on and Peter Pevensie lives. And that's enough for me.
By now, all six ballistae are disabled and I'm almost through the drive chain of the last trebuchet. In another few seconds, I can finally escape into the trees and rejoin the Narnians.
The threads snap and break apart beneath my talon until the rope falls away, severed and unusable.
I stand up and approach the captain, who's still busy checking his men. "Captain."
He turns around.
"No evidence of sabotage," I tell him. "But if you notice any, report it immediately."
He nods. "Yes sir."
With that, he returns to questioning his soldiers and I proceed past the tenth battalion, intending to make my way along the rear lines as if returning to the camp. I regret this decision the moment I round the soldiers of the tenth and find Lord Donnon riding in my direction atop a black horse. Three soldiers accompany him on foot and I can just about feel their eyes burning into me from behind their metal face masks. I can't do anything except keep walking, even as I hear shouting arise from the Lists.
I need to leave now before the cut bowstrings and dangling drive chains can be traced back to me. But Lord Donnon has aimed his path directly to intercept mine.
Aslan help me. I might just have to abandon anonymity and risk a quick escape right now.
"Soldier!" Donnon barks. "Identify yourself!"
I meet the grey-haired lord's deadly stare and stop in my tracks, dipping into a bow. "Sergeant Runivi, my lord."
The armoured horse halts in front of me, shaking out its mane. "And what are your orders?" He prompts.
"To check for –"
"To arms, Telmar!" General Glozelle's voice carries all the way from the front lines. "To arms!"
The Telmarines roar in response, raising their spears and fists to the sky. My pulse kicks into high speed but Donnon and his men appear indifferent to the situation, still awaiting my response.
I clear my throat and try again. Don't fire the trebuchets don't fire the trebuchets...
"To check for imposters and possible sabotage to the machines, my lord."
"Hm." He sniffs and looks me up and down, unimpressed. A moment later, the trebuchets' arms begin to move as the operating teams commence the siege. I watch with both satisfaction and horror as the drive chains reach their severed end and the double arms at each of the machines hang uselessly. Chaos ensues as the units scramble to find what's wrong.
Donnon turns away from the trebuchet disaster, his eyes ablaze with fury. "Secure this man!"
The soldiers surge forward, weapons at the ready.
I stamp down the urge to run. "I beg your pardon?"
"Do you take me for a fool?" Donnon demands.
I can hear general Glozelle call for the cavalry to charge. The cold metal of shackles lock around my wrists; the other two men raising their crossbows while the third rests the edge of his sword against my throat. I lean away from it as much as I can.
"Soldier!" Pulling at the reins of his anxious mount, he addresses one of his men. "Is this the man you believe to be an imposter?"
"Yes, my lord."
I stiffen at the soldier's familiar voice. The pounding hooves of the charging cavalry rumble through the earth like a song of death.
"A man from my unit went to the woods to relieve himself," Nillovlen continues. "And sergeant Runivi appeared a minute later wearing his armour. I recognize that chip there on the helmet and the scratches. And there's dried mud and tears on the back of the legs."
"He's right, my lord," the soldier behind me confirms.
"He inspected the trebuchet at the fifth battalion and claimed it to be free of sabotage."
Bastard. Of course it's him.
"So the man warning my soldiers of an imposter turns out to be one." Lord Donnon contemplates the situation before him. "Explain to me," he says hotly, "why you thought treason would serve you better than our king."
The blood in my veins burns. "Miraz is not my king. And you are despicable for letting a murderer ascend to the throne."
Donnon leans forward in his saddle, hissing. "How many of our men will die without the strength of our machines? The blood on your hands is thicker than mine or anyone else."
Our men. He thinks a random Telmarine decided to turn against him. They have no way of knowing I'm a chimæra.
The wind carries the sound of screaming and clashing metal from the battlefield to my ears. "I haven't killed anyone yet," I tell him. "Surrender is still an option. The Narnians don't want a fight."
"Surrender." He repeats the word like it's poison on his tongue. "That is a coward's game."
"Or a king's salvation."
The lord regards me with uncertainty in his cold eyes.
"Miraz is not returning from the Lists. The throne is open to claim again and the rest of the lords are too spineless to challenge Sopespian for it. He will take command of your army like the arrogant bastard he is and his inexperience will cost your army enough blood to feed the Great River." Manipulation has never been one of my strong suits, but I know exactly what bone to pick with lord Donnon: he wants the power of the Telmarine throne just as much as every other lord in the council. And if the expression on his face is any indication, my words are getting to him.
The tenth battalion begins its march, in sync with the rest of the army. Glozelle has ordered the infantry forward but still, Donnon does not command his soldiers to break from their positions. He wants to hear what I have to say. Or, perhaps, he's delaying his possible demise on the plains of Beruna. Either way, I have a chance here.
"All the lords want the throne," I continue. "But Sopespian has been right behind Miraz from the start and I'll bet he's in command right now."
Lord Donnon's shadowed eyes tell me he believes it, too.
"The other lords are cowards. They won't try to take control and they'll let him run the army to the ground. If you want any sort of loyal men to command after today, you'll take the crown and save them from their deaths."
"By surrender," the soldier behind me spits, pressing his blade against my skin.
As if his words inspired a revolution, the other two speak up as well.
"Telmarines don't surrender!"
"He is a traitor, my lord!"
My heart sinks as Donnon's posture straightens, the stiff indifference returning to his face. No no no. I keep trying. I have to. "You know your chances without the machines. Unless someone stops lord Sopespian, the army won't survive."
Nillovlen flexes his fingers around the trigger of his crossbow. I can feel the soldiers growing anxious around me as they await their orders, the battle raging on without them.
"Telmarines do not surrender. And we do not tolerate treason." Lord Donnon gathers his reins. "Kill him immediately," he orders. "And rejoin your units." With a kick against the horses's side, he takes off not toward the fight, but to the remaining two battalions Sopespian has not yet ordered forward, still gathered at the edge of the plains while the rest of the army faces the Narnians.
A ribbon of hot blood blooms beneath the soldier's blade at my throat, and his breath washes over my ear. "Die well, traitor."
He tenses and pulls his sword swiftly as I produce a layer of hard scales over my skin. His blade glides harmlessly over the natural armour at the same time I shrink my wrists, slipping the shackles and grabbing him as I spin around. Not a moment too soon, two arrows from the other soldiers sink into my human shield. I yank the sword from his grasp and press it to his gasping throat, effectively switching our roles.
"Lay down your weapons," I tell them. "And retreat across the river. I won't hurt you."
I want them to accept the offer. I want to believe they can choose prosperity over bloodshed. But instead, Nillovlen and the other man split and try to flank me.
Blocking the nauseating sound from reaching my ears, I slit the Telmarine's throat and race toward the closest soldier, throwing my sword to keep him from sighting me. It works and I have enough time to put him between myself and Nillovlen's second bolt. He sinks to the ground in pain, fighting for air.
Quickly, Nillovlen throws another bolt into his crossbow. I don't have time to do anything but get as close as I can, diving from the arrow's path with barely a breath of space to spare. I reach him before he can reload, the two of us drawing our swords at the same time.
"You," I manage breathlessly, "can still...retreat."
"Only in death."
Who says that?
Nillovlen advances quickly, feinting left only to lunge and thrust toward my exposed throat. I manage to deflect his blade, sweeping it down and slashing at his thigh. With no chainmail or leather to protect it, my sword cuts clean through his skin. He stumbles backward, nearly collapsing to his knees with a breathless cry.
I missed his artery. He still has a chance to retreat and survive and he knows it. But I can see the bloodlust in his eyes behind his metal face mask — he won't stop.
Fine. I raise my sword to mirror the Pevensies's shield guard, holding my ground and letting him advance again. Panting, Nillovlen takes the opportunity and passes forward, trying to keep his weight off his injured leg. He spits a curse at me and thrusts at my heart. I shed his sword, moving diagonally and forcing him to follow on his bad leg.
He stumbles as I expected and his guard falls, creating a small opening I take with a swift lunge and slash. A sickening noise escapes him as blood cascades from his throat, one hand flying to the wound in a desperate attempt to staunch it. Nillovlen's wide, terrified eyes burn into me before his leg finally buckles and he falls to the matted grass, his life bleeding away from between his fingers.
Trying to catch my breath, I turn toward the bloody plains to assess the battle and decide where I might be needed. And my limbs weaken at the sight, breath halting in my throat. I have to rip the mask from my face and blink twice to be sure of what I'm seeing.
Trees.
Like wooden giants, massive oak trees have seemed to peel away from the woods and join the fight, wading through the earth by their roots as if it's water. Like the stories. Like Lucy promised.
My heart soars at the sight. The appearance of the awakened trees sends the Telmarine army into chaos. Shouting in fear, they abandon the fight and run for their lives back toward the Fords of Beruna. Lord Sopespian is frozen where he sits atop his horse.
The ground rumbles and shifts beneath me and a moment later, all around the disabled war machines, thick roots erupt from the ground to wrap around the wood and metal. Creaking and snapping, the trees crush the dreadful things into pieces of scrap. Before I know it, there are screaming soldiers all around me rushing into the woods, too concerned with their own survival to notice the dead bodies around me.
"To Beruna!" Sopespian calls. The last two battalions break apart and join the race to the river, the echoing sound of a horn ordering retreat.
The Narnians give chase, scores of Telmarines being uprooted and thrown in the air by the sentient trees. Before I'm trampled, I hurry out of the army's path. None of them care enough to pay me any heed: standing at the edge of the trees instead of retreating as ordered. They just keep streaming past me, eyes wild with fear.
When they get close enough, I start scanning the surviving Narnians. I know I shouldn't and it will only drive me crazy with worry but I can't stop myself.
Trumpkin, Luzleil, Fala, Rainstone, Ez and Ness... I'm not surprised to find Peter and Edmund leading the charge with Caspian, but I feel sick when I recognize Susan running beside them — Susan who should be with Lucy. She's supposed to be with Lucy. What happened?
There isn't much time to worry about it, though. I have to throw off my helmet and revert to my usual appearance before the Narnians mistake me for a Telmarine. I keep my hair cropped and out of my eyes, but no less red.
Instantly, one of the minotaurs recognizes me and raises his axe to the sky. "Witchslayer!" He cries.
The name spreads like wildfire among them, the Narnians roaring their acclamation. Witchslayer is here.
I fall into step next to Caspian, doing a quick once-over on him for injuries. Blessedly, he looks okay. "Lucy?" is all I can think to say.
"Fine," he responds. And I feel like I can breathe again.
The Narnians follow right on the Telmarines' heels, enlivened and ready to face off at the river. Even as we crash through the trees and undergrowth, the gryphons following from above the treetops.
"Keep together, now!" Peter shouts. "Stay with them!"
I build up the muscles in my legs and stomach, expanding my lungs and airways so the strain of the long run in heavy armour doesn't affect me. But I can feel the toll of my transformations: a soreness building deep in my muscles.
It fades with the appearance of the beach, chased away by adrenaline.
The Narnians surge from the woods and onto the shores of Beruna, only to stop behind the masses of stationary Telmarines who, only a moment ago, were fighting each other to reach the bridge first. Now, none of them seem willing. What's stopping them?
Peter and Edmund share a brief look and something about it worries me. I stand on my toes, giving myself a few extra inches until I can see over the heads in front of me.
Lucy Pevensie, perfectly unharmed and calm, stands at the other end of the bridge with a dagger grasped in her hand. Standing fast against the entirety of the Telmarine army without a flicker of fear.
The soldiers instantly grow uneasy and panicked on the pebbled shore, turning around to face us as if they might make a desperate run for the hills. Sopespian looks over his shoulder to survey their options, finding the Narnians blockading their escape to the woods. He quickly turns back around, clearly resigned to charging across the bridge at a little girl.
I stiffen and begin to consider the quickest way to reach Lucy when a golden form emerges from the trees behind her, walking with elegant, deliberate strides. And the Great Lion Aslan stands at her side.
Just like she promised.
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author's note
heyo check out this long af chapter! I wasn't really sure where to cut it off lol
I hope y'all aren't upset that arryn was basically absent from the entire fight, but I wanted to do something different and give a fresher perspective than the one we always see: on the battlefield with the pevensies. I mean, it's a kickass view on a tv screen, but I don't think my action-writing abilities would have kept it that awesome lol so I worked around it and hopefully kept it believable and interesting
like the palace raid, the battle is deceptively short. it was dragged out a lot since it's the climax of the movie and it would have been hella boring if it was only four minutes long. I did my best to time everything properly and I think its a pretty good representation of the battle's actual length idk.
anyways, I'm releasing this a day early because I'm getting my mf wisdom teeth removed tomorrow morning and idk how the surgery will affect me. I might be too out of it to remember or want to go on my computer at all, so here it is a day early! also pray for me because I have tmj and my jaw is gonna be hella fucked up after that surgery lmao
alright that is all, have a great week my dudes. I'll see y'all next Tuesday with chapter 30!