THE THREE LORDS
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This is a short story that tells of the Telmarine host entering Narnia under Caspian I. It contains no violence or bad language.
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Introduction
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The three hosts now marched as one, united under a single leader. The pathfinders' maps, cracked and stained, drawn up years ago by Dwarfish merchants, had proven reliable. Narnia was indeed a bountiful place. The land was good, fertile, with plentiful timber, its fruit and grain left to run wild. Tumbledown walls, fences and barns could all be restored or replaced. Clerks and surveyors made notes – with typical Telmarine efficiency - and began to discuss the allotment of property.
Two of their three leaders were frankly sulking. People were disenchanted with them, and they couldn't do anything about it. Cowardice at the 'Place of the Lion' and a later shortage of water had turned the mood sour. Mutterings soon became open rebellion. They were to be citizens of a new land; why stay faithful to masters who hadn't earned loyalty? Only Caspian's actions at the bridge had stemmed the tide of revolt. "Hurrah for Caspian!" they shouted, "Caspian the Great; Caspian for king!"
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Dreaming of fresh fields and pastures new
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Alfreda, the last queen of Narnia, had been laid to rest a quarter of a century ago. She'd died at the grand old age of 105, plunging the land into chaos. One brother murdered another to seize the crown and he, in turn, was murdered on the orders of the vengeful widow. All this had been forseen by the venerable Alfreda but she could do naught to stop it. The few men and women left in Narnia were too humble, too old or too weak to lead it. The ancient, creaking apparatus of government ground to a halt, its belt sheared. Alfreda – with her usual prescience – had said "When a stable is in decline you get some new bloodstock." That is exactly what happened. Let's go now to the land of Telmar, to see what drove these limpets off their rock.
Lord Solecism entered the dining chamber to find his father already sat at board. "Hullo, governor, you here?" Reed lights burned because wax had become scarce. The other seats were empty as guests were now a burden.
"No, I'm still dressing for meat," the old man replied sarcastically. His hand gestured at his doublet which hung limply off his lean frame. He was a wiry man with a leathery skin and looked older than his years.
"Eh?" said the young man blankly, taking his seat. "Chicken, hey?"
"No, it's a fat ox," growled his father. "Yes, it's chicken – a damnable, scraggy, old fowl it is too. They'd have me dining off a single drumstick if they could get away with it."
"Feeling liverish?" his dutiful younger son asked, interested.
"Halfwit," the old man retorted.
"Times are hard, governor," came the soothing reply. "Still, at least Cookie has rustled up a couple of chickens."
"Cookie – as you refer to her – is as intolerably insolent as you. She was reluctant to spare one let alone two."
"No doubt, no doubt," agreed Solecism, pulling a skinny leg off the roasted bird. He looked around to check that the lone serving man was out of earshot. Gone were the days of multiple servants as they were too expensive to keep. "Have you given any more thought to you-know-what, father?"
"You're referring to this madcap scheme of young Passarid's I take it?"
"That's the one."
The old lord shook his head in puzzlement. "How you keep fine friends when you're such a nincompoop astounds me." His son made no complaint, so he went on, "You're my son and - despite being a dunderhead – I've some affection for you. In saying that, I can't afford to keep such an idle dog so we'll just have to muddle along without you."
"I can go then?" said Solecism with a dawning smile. "May I ask some of the tenantry too?"
"Aye, you may. Don't get yourself killed and send news back if possible. Just a brief word, mind, I don't want to be wading through pages of your scrawl on a regular basis." The aged lord viewed his plate with disfavour. "You'd better take that godson of mine with you. There's precious little for him here. If either of you gets killed I will be severely displeased."
"What, young Caspian?"
"How many others do you know of?"
"Godsons?" said Solecism innocently enough, "None."
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The Three Lords
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The three groups had marched on, united of late. They felt happier as a large host and at least one of their lords hadn't let them down. His surprising bravery and cheerful manner had won them over when, for two pins, they'd have turned back. They repeated his call of "Not far now," as a mantra.
The Telmarines pitched camp just a few miles from where they anticipated the Narnian border lay. All agreed that there was no point entering after dark and so a guard was mounted, fires built and livestock attended to. Scouts rode into the night to spy out the land. They bet amongst themselves as to who would cross first and what they might bring back with them. The leaders' servants meanwhile set up their sleeping tents and erected a great pavilion that served as dining chamber and headquarters. When the scouts came back at first light the people woke, flocking to hear their news. The spies spoke of a distant bridge and a terrible magic that protected it.
The people groaned and wailed, "Why did we come on such a journey?" They scorned Amid Passarid and cursed him, "You are a man of ill fortune; you will bring us to the grave". They remembered not their traditional allegiance to the great house of Passarid. That the blood of the founding fathers ran in his veins mattered naught to them now.
Amid stood before them and waited for their complaints to subside. "You have shown yourself faithless to me time and again". The host remembered his cowardice at the Place of the Lion. They recalled his refusal to follow advice that led to them almost dying of thirst. "Do you wonder?" they cried, "Have you earned our trust?"
Lord Passarid spread his arms to quell their reproaches. "If but four men will come with me as far as the bridge, I will lead us across into Narnia."
Imagine walking in the blackest night, through strange country, with no light. How terrifying might that be? Now imagine that same sense of dread upon you like a heavy, suffocating blanket, more unreasonable for being under the morning sun. Every nerve in their bodies strained as if plucked like harp strings. That was how the seven Telmarines felt as they approached the stone bridge. Despite their promise, the ordinary soldiers fled, their horses now running like the swiftest of arrows back to the host. Amid, his dark face suddenly paler, rode on to the bridge. As he reached it a figure appeared at the apex, an armoured knight in a golden tabard, with a sheathed sword, bearing a shield with a lion rampant device.
"Stand aside fellow, for I am Lord Amid Passarid of Telmar;" to which there was no answer. "I command you again to step aside," Amid instructed the stranger. He was used to speaking with authority being descended from one of the original pirate captains that had settled in Telmar. Although he knew nothing of it, still more distant ancestors had been corsair captains on the Barbary Coast in our world.
That raised a response, "Why wouldst thou enter this land of Narnia?"
"To conquer it for the glory of Telmar," Amid said proudly.
"Be careful what you wish for, as pride goes before a fall," the knight told him. He spoke with a strange accent, carefully weighing each word as if the tongue were actually foreign to him.
"I will cross this bridge and you shall not stop me."
"Enter Narnia in humility or, I caution, neither you nor your children's children will ever rule the land." Enraged with this response (that revealed his dearest desire) Amid drew his sword and galloped at the impertinent knight.
The catcalls began when Amid was still many yards away from the Telmarine encampment. He sat tethered backwards on his horse, wearing just his shirt, linen undergarments and hose. His mount dutifully picked its way to the great pavilion, through the mocking crowd. He was physically unharmed but his dignity would never recover.
The people soon began to groan and wail, "Why did you bring us on this endless trek?" They scorned Caspian Constable and cursed him, "You are a man unworthy to lead us; you will bring us death". They remembered not that they'd sworn allegiance to the Constable family. That some had resided on his paternal estates meant nothing to them.
Caspian stood before them and waited for their cries to end. "What little faith you have shown in me!" The host remembered his cowardice at the Place of the Lion. They recalled his complicity in a decision that led to them almost dying of thirst. "What do you expect?" they answered, "Have you earned our trust?"
Caspian Constable lifted a hand to stem their reproaches. "If but two men will come with me as far as the bridge, I will lead us across into Narnia." Caspian was from a family that had increased in influence over many generations. A distant ancestor had been a mere constable appointed to keep order within his own village. Gradually the office became hereditary and law enforcement throughout Telmar was subsumed by the Constable family. Kings of Telmar were elected for their lifetime from amongst the great families. The allegiance of the powerful Constable was very desirable indeed. Caspian, being a younger son, was unlikely to succeed to his father's office. When Lord Stiffrump agreed to be the boy's godfather it brought with it his patronage. In normal times that would have been enough to ensure his future prosperity but, alas, the famine occurred. Caspian had to make his own way in a new world.
What must it be like to walk blindfolded through hostile, alien territory? How frightening that must be! To feel that but in the full glare of the noon sun, with every nerve of their bodies taut, was the lot of the five Telmarines as they reached the bridge of cyclopean stone blocks. Although they'd vowed to protect Caspian, the guards turned tail and fled. Their mounts became like flashing spears flung by the mightiest of arms. Caspian, rather pale, continued on to the foot of the bridge. As he reached it, a figure appeared at the apex, an armoured knight in a silvery tabard, with a sheathed sword and bearing a shield with a lion rampant device.
"I ask you to step aside, Sirrah, for I am Caspian of the House of Constable;" to which there came answer none. "I must ask you again to move aside," Caspian instructed the stranger.
That raised a response, "Why wouldst thou enter this land of Narnia?"
"Why, to conquer it, of course!" Caspian said sincerely.
"Be careful what you wish for, as pride goes before a fall," the knight told him. He spoke with a peculiar accent, carefully judging each word as if the tongue were uncommon to him.
"I will cross this bridge and you shall not stop me."
"Enter Narnia in humility or, I caution you, neither you nor your children's children will ever be great in the land." Angered by the knight (who seemingly knew his heart) Caspian drew his sword and charged at the impertinent fellow.
The laughter began when Caspian was still some distance from the camp. He sat on his horse, tethered backwards, in nothing but his shirt, linen undergarments and hose. His mount carefully picked its way to the great pavilion, through the hysterical crowd. He wasn't physically harmed but he was absolutely mortified.
The people soon groaned and wailed however, "Why did we ever leave Telmar?" They implored Lord Solecism, "Take us home or find us some other way into Narnia". They remembered little of their new found respect for him.
Solecism held out his hands and the host stopped to listen. "Fellow Telmarines, my friends, I aren't a clever man, nor do I profess to be a great warrior, but the maps have led us here so here we must cross. I will go to the bridge alone and speak to these two terrible knights that will not let us pass." There was much muttering at this but– despite a certain lack of confidence – they respected him for attempting the thing.
Lord Solecism, rather white, continued on to the foot of the bridge under the light of the evening sun. As he reached it, a figure appeared at the apex, an armoured knight in a red tabard, with a sheathed sword and bearing a shield with a lion rampant device. Solecism dismounted and waved a gloved hand. "Hullo!" he attempted. The stranger stood, impassive, watching him. "Pax – kings – fay knights - and all that!"
"What dost thou want?" the man asked.
"Just to talk, Lord," said the Telmarine. "See, I'm putting my sword upon the grass."
"What wouldst you talk of?"
"Well, I think you – or some of your friends – have talked to a couple of our chaps and they rather got off on the wrong foot. We seek safe passage over the bridge and into Narnia."
"Why do you seek Narnia?"
"We're from a distant land called Telmar. Heard of it at all? Oh, well it's a jolly good sort of place, or, at least, it used to be. Trouble is that there's been bad harvest after bad harvest and the people are starving. We're seeking a new land to settle and this Narnia seems just the spot."
"There are few - or none - of the sons of Adam and daughters of Eve left in Narnia," said the knight gravely.
"Huh? Oh; you're not from these parts yourself then, Lord?"
"Nay, I come from a distant land."
"Passing through, hey? Well, that all sounds very interesting. Narnia sounds just the job. Would you and your friends mind if I bring our people through then, Lord?"
"You may pass," said the unknown knight. "Caspian Solecism."
"I say; how do you know that?" said Solecism amazed.
"Caspian Solecism, son of Caspian Stiffrump, you may lead the host into Narnia but – heed this - respect the land and all that dwells therein. Go fetch your people, Caspian the First of Narnia. Enter Narnia and may your line prove a blessing to it."
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THE END
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Notes
Alfreda: For more on this Queen please see my short story 'The Queen Spins a Web'.
Fay Knights – a childish cry for a truce or respite from a game; possibly a corruption of 'fainites' (outmoded English schoolyard expression)
Pax &Kings – same usage as the above
Godson: I have used this word to represent the Telmarine practice of dedicating a younger son to a social superior for their patronage.