After watching Jadis whip Edmund in the back for moving too slowly when her sled was stuck in mud, Peter silently pleaded with Aslan to make these visions stop. Make it all stop.
More tears dripped off his cheeks. Edmund should have never had to deal with that. Most certainly, not at the age of eleven.
Peter remembered the first time he had seen Edmund's scars. He put on a brave face for Edmund, comforting him the best he could. Peter himself cried about it for hours after. Until Edmund had found him and the two of them worked through their guilt and grief of their first adventure in Narnia.
Actually witnessing Edmund's suffering resurfaced the pain he had thought he had grieved. Edmund had been bound by the wrists and forced to walk far too long for a child. But like how she was with Peter, Jadis was cruel, and it did not matter that Edmund was a child. Her brutality touched him as painfully as it hurt Peter.
When they finally returned from her memory, she proposed, "How about another one?" She seemed to relish in the way Peter shrank back, shaking his head. "No? I have another idea then."
Please, let this be bearable, Peter silently begged.
"I have questions, and you shall tell me the answers." Peter opened his mouth to detest, but she placed a finger to his lips to silence him. His eyes widened, and he froze at her closeness. "Fail to answer truthfully and I will share more memories with you. Do you understand?"
She pulled her finger away, waiting.
Peter averted his eyes, as he contemplated his lack of options. He simply nodded.
"Very well," she said, taking a step back. "As High King, you have authority over all other Kings and Queens?"
He did not like the implications of that question, but he nodded.
"Speak the answers aloud, little king," Jadis ordered.
"Yes, I have the authority." He was grateful when she moved on.
"How old are you now?"
"Eighteen."
"And your siblings?"
"Why do you care?" Peter spat. An invisible sharp pain pinched his side. Peter yelped. "Okay, okay," Peter whispered. "Susan is seventeen, Edmund's fifteen, and Lucy is thirteen. Why do you want to know?"
She ignored his question as she asked, "How long does it take from your palace to mine?"
"A few days," Peter replied bitterly.
"Be more specific."
"Four days," Peter answered.
"And three, if you make haste," she concluded. She was right. He did not indicate one way or the other. "When you go to war, which of your siblings come with you?"
"That depends on the battle we are entering."
"For instance?"
He did not know how to answer the question. He did not want to tell her the different circumstances that would bring all four of them out on a battlefield. Certainly, they all had been in battles. Edmund mostly would be there with him. Other times, it was Susan, and on one occasion, it was just him and Lucy. That never was a repeated affair.
Peter shifted uncomfortably. Peter deviated the answer quietly, "Mostly, it would be Edmund."
"And how many soldiers do you have in your army?"
"I don't know."
"You do not lie very well," Jadis noticed.
"I honestly don't know."
"As commander of the Narnian army and High King, you are going to pretend you do not know how many soldiers serve in your army?"
Another sharp pain stabbed him. Peter shook his head. He knew the answer. He did. Five thousand Narnians were in his current army. Another four thousand were called upon in wartime.
He knew the answer but could not tell her. The other bits of information were vague enough that it would not betray anyone. Telling her soldier counts was too far.
"Perhaps, we have taken too long of a break from these memories."
"No, I don't want to see anymore. Just ask me something else."
"I have asked you this question."
"I cannot answer it, please. Something else."
"I am afraid that is not how this works."
No, Peter did not want to keep seeing her torturing his brother.
"Please." All she did was come from behind him, grabbing the tied cloth that rested on his collarbone. "No, no," was all he whimpered as he shook his head. He hated having that in his mouth. His protests did not derail her. She shoved the cloth tightly between his teeth. With a terrible defeat, she retightened the cloth around his head.
His breathing came out rapid and inconsistent. She came back to his front before she cupped his cheek. He whimpered out a response before another memory of her abusing his brother came over his eyes.
"King Edmund!" Kelo called over. "You will want to hear this."
As Edmund and Phillip went over to the huddle of officers, he saw Ari on Kelo's shoulder. "Lieutenant, what is it?" Edmund asked.
Before Kelo could answer, Ari fluttered her wings as she exclaimed, "I saw King Peter!" Excitement and terror filled her tone.
Edmund's heart almost stopped. Peter! This was what he had wanted to hear for days now, any news of Peter. Tears welded into his eyes. He blinked them back.
"Where?" He barely managed to ask.
"The White Witch's castle."
"No, that cannot be possible. We sent scouts in there. There was no one there. We—" Edmund stopped himself. Not there, of all places.
"I saw him, your majesty. I swear it. I saw him run from there. He was trying to escape," Ari reassured. She sadly admitted, "I wish I could have helped."
Edmund put his King face on, telling her, "You have done more than enough by delivering this message. What more can you tell about what you saw?"
"Oh, your majesty, you are not going to like this at all," Ari warned. The suspense was killing him.
"Thank you for your concern, but please proceed, I must know."
Ari gave him a nod before gathering the courage it seemed required to speak. Only after she spoke did he understand why.
"Your majesty, the White Witch—she is back. She was there. She was the one who stopped King Peter from escaping."
Edmund almost passed out right there. If it were not for Phillip adjusting a step over to steady him, he would have.
This could not be happening. Not her. Not with him. This nightmare was only getting worse. His vision was blurry, nearly swirling when he heard Kelo call his name.
"King Edmund," Kelo urged softly.
Edmund blinked a few times before steeling himself, just for a few moments. He just needed to be in control to hear the rest of Ari's account. He could process everything after that.
Edmund nodded to Kelo before Phillip asked, "Are you sure it was her?"
"Positively," Ari answered gloomy.
"Her magic would explain why our scouts did not see them inside," Kelo suggested in response.
Edmund did not like how that sounded at all. Instead, he focused forward, for fear that if they continued talking for too much longer, he would pass out or panic. Neither was what he wanted to do in front of his people like this.
"Is there anything else you can tell us?" Edmund asked her in a quiet voice.
"King Peter seemed quite injured prior to the White Witch stopping him. But she threw a knife into his back. His screams will haunt me for all my days," Ari explained, distress clear on her face. "They dragged him back into the castle after that. I left my second scout there to keep watch over the castle."
Edmund did not know what to do but felt his entire body become warm. I am definitely passing out.
Before he did, he knew he had to remain in control for a few more seconds.
"Thank you, Ari, for your message." Edmund then directed his attention to Kelo. "Lieutenant, can you send word to my sisters, General Oreius, and Captain Ver of this change? Tell them we are heading to the castle."
"At once, my King."
"And could you prepare our people to depart?"
"Yes, sire." All of his officers departed to do what needed to be done, leaving just him and Phillip.
"I need ten minutes," Edmund said as he pushed passed Phillip.
Edmund's vision was blurry. He barely staggered to a somewhat secluded area before the tears started pouring out. He slid his back against the nearest tree, holding onto his knees.
She was back. Oh, how many nightmares had been eased with the reassurance that she would never come again?
Edmund did not know what to do. Peter was with her. Peter was trapped with the White Witch. This was only getting worse. And Peter was hurt. What am I going to do? I cannot face her again.
Barely hearing his hooves approaching, he heard Phillip ask for privacy with him from Jatix and Ash who must have been protectively nearby.
Phillip's hooves clucked on the ground until he was over by Edmund. He leaned his face in, nuzzling against Edmund's cheek. Edmund leaned into the touch.
"Phillip," Edmund choked out. "She can't be—she is alive, and Peter—" his breathing rapid and frantic. "I cannot do this, Phillip. I cannot go back in there. Not with her there."
Phillip leaned into him further. His warm and steady face grounded Edmund enough to keep him from a full panic.
When Edmund's breathing calmed a bit, Phillip softly said, "I cannot imagine what you are feeling right now. I am terrified, and I never even met her."
All Edmund could do was nod. He was petrified. This was the White Witch after all. His stomach ached at simply the thought of her. She was the embodiment of cruelty, and she had Peter.
"I always hoped—prayed she would never return," Phillip said. Edmund's tears picked up pace, sliding down his cheeks.
"I cannot face her again," Edmund pleaded, desperately holding onto Phillip's face. "Please, I cannot."
"I wish for you never to have to," Phillip said quietly. "Yet, her presence does not change the fact that Peter needs our help." Edmund sniffled, clutching him tighter. In the gentlest of voices, Phillip continued, "You, of all people, know that if he is with her how urgent that need is."
As terrified as Edmund was, Phillip was right. It pained Edmund terribly to think of. While the White Witch was horribly brutal to him when he was a boy, he was frightened to think of what Peter was enduring.
Days. Peter had been with her for days. Now, they were far too many hours away from where Peter was. A half a day, perhaps. Maybe less.
"Phillip, what has she done to him? He has been with her for days now—"
"Try not to focus on that, Edmund," Phillip nudged him. "All we need to do is rescue Peter. That is our only focus."
"I cannot handle this, Phillip. Why did it have to be her?" Edmund nearly whimpered out.
"Edmund, listen to me," Phillip urged. "Peter needs our help. Your help. You were able to overcome your fears of her when he needed you last time."
"I don't know," Edmund admitted unsurely.
"You faced her last time and won. You will do it again now. I know you can," Phillip encouraged. "We will all help you. You can do this. Peter needs you."
And as Edmund's grip loosened and reality set in, the truth was that Peter did need him, and well, nothing else mattered after that.
Wiping his tears and burying his fears for now, he stood up with the support of Phillip.
I am coming, Pete, just hold on a little longer.
