Peter came to on a heap of stale straw. Every part of him ached, between his days in the forest and however long he had lain here unconscious. His first realization was the weight around his wrists; as he shifted, the weights clinked. Chains. He opened his eyes to find himself in a dungeon cell.
"What is the meaning of this?" he croaked. "I'm a knight, my station demands fair treatment, whatever the charges!"
"Inform Lord Miraz that the prisoner's awake," said a voice outside the bars of the door. A prison sentry stepped into view. "There are no privileges given to an assassin. Especially one with such battle skills as yours."
"The accusations are a lie! Ned and Geoffrey are the ones who attacked us, I did the best I could to protect Caspian! Surely the lord protector doesn't take their word alone against a knight. Have I not been a trusted lieutenant in the court?"
"Apparently not as trustworthy as some may have believed. Lord Miraz will make his own judgment."
They didn't have long to wait. The tall, bearded man stalked toward the cell, his demeanor just as severe as it was in the forest. "Leave us. Sir Peter and I need to have a chat." He waved to one of the sentries, who unlocked the cell, and pulled up a chair for him.
Peter scrambled to his feet. The chains didn't give him much room to move at his full height.
"My Lord, you have to believe me, whatever Ned and Geoffrey told you, they fed you lies. I have been nothing but loyal to Prince Caspian, and to Telmar. But more importantly, I fear they may be working for someone else. The whole kingdom could be at stake."
"Is that so?" Miraz seemed to wait until he was sure the sentries weren't in earshot. "Bold of you to say, being foreign-born yourself. It's your sole word against both of theirs. That blood on your front, then, what have you to say about that?"
"It's not human blood, we fought off a wolf on the hunt. I have the injuries to prove it."
"See, that's where we arrive at our problem. There wasn't supposed to be any proof bring back."
The comment hung in the air for a heavy beat, then two. An image bubbled to the surface of Peter's memory, a knowing look, something changing hands, right before he was knocked out. He swallowed hard.
"You…they were acting on your orders…"
"Now you're catching on."
"Your own nephew, why would you want him dead?"
"You think too narrowly. He was family, yes, but where would it have left me to see him sit on the throne? Why stand by when I could be king in my own right? And it might have been easily executed, if you hadn't managed to get in the way."
"What makes you think you've got me out of the way now? You're not the crowned ruler. If the right people learn the truth, you'll be the one charged with treason."
Miraz stood, towered over Peter. Without warning the nobleman backhanded him hard enough to draw blood.
"That's what I have you for, Narnian. If any benefit is to come from your surviving the hunt, it's that you will be the one to pay for the prince's death. As you posited, it's quite the concerning possibility that someone with interests outside of Telmar may be behind the plot."
"I haven't seen Narnia since I was maybe three years old, Telmar is the only home and people I've truly known! You will never get away with this, I won't let—"
A gut punch sent Peter gasping to all fours, swiftly followed by a knee to his already bruised temple, which landed him back in the straw. Miraz let out a sniff of derision.
"You're young and spirited, boy, but not invulnerable. If I recall, don't you have siblings depending on you? A brother and two sisters."
Peter tried to clear his streaming eyes as he rolled to one elbow, a lump forming in his throat.
"It'd be a shame if they had to share your fate as co-conspirators."
"Leave them alone, they've done nothing…"
"You will not fight the charges. You will not say a word against me, if you want them will remain unharmed. Mark my words they will be watched day and night in case you try anything."
Heat rose around Peter's face and neck. He stared, shaking, at the filthy cell floor.
"I want your word, Pevensie, or I give the order right now to have them dragged in. You will accept whatever happens."
"I…I will."
Miraz turned on his heel. A sentry came to remove the chair and lock the cell door.
Peter wiped the blood from his lip with the back of one sleeve. His gaze lingered on the manacle secured to his wrist. The welfare of his siblings meant more to him than anything else in the world. He inwardly screamed at the absurdity of the whole situation, but he had to do what was necessary to keep them safe.
At least as a prisoner Peter received regular portions of food and water again. Nothing fancy, although he didn't need fancy to quiet his stomach, and he had little care for taste since he doubted any meal would be enjoyable under the current circumstances. His dreams were an endless race to find Caspian, only to not be quick enough to save the prince from falling, or some other worse fate. While awake, the dingy bandages around his arm and shoulders chafed. Hopefully the claw marks weren't in too bad a way. As yet no one had given them any attention since they were first cleaned and covered.
"Peter? Peter!"
The voice startled him—it was a female voice, desperate and worried. Within moments the speaker appeared at the cell door.
"Susan!"
Peter jumped up as far as the shackles would allow. His sister clapped her hands over her mouth, eyes wide. How he wished he could reach her, console her in some way. She took in the details of his appearance.
"What in the world is going on? Why are they doing this to you?"
"How did you get down here?"
"I had to beg them to permit a visit, as a blood relative. Miraz announced to the whole city that Prince Caspian was killed on the hunt, and you were the traitor responsible for his death!"
"You have to believe me, Susan, that couldn't be farther from the truth."
"I do believe you, your whole family believes you're not capable of such an act. But why then are they keeping you locked up?"
"It's complicated. I wish I could say more—"
"I'm your sister! If there's anyone you can confide in it's me!"
"Not so loud!" hissed Peter. After a few seconds to make sure no one showed up to intervene, he continued quietly. "It's for your own safety that you know as little as possible."
"You're serious? You can tell me anything, even if it has to remain secret."
"Some things are too dangerous for that. I have to look out for you."
"Who's going to look out for you? You can't face this alone." Susan refused to look away, no matter how Peter tried to duck her gaze. When he finally spoke next, his voice was a hoarse whisper.
"Miraz is using this opportunity to seize the throne for himself, but he needs to…resolve the incident of Caspian's death to make that legitimate. And it's not just my life in the balance. You, Ed, Lu, all of you would be in danger if I make any attempt to speak out."
Susan's eyes welled up with tears. "You can't be saying you're going to go along with this madness…"
"Please, promise me you won't say anything to the others. I don't want them more upset than I imagine they already are. And I can't have any of you put in harm's way. That's all I care about now."
"What about those who care about you, they're just supposed to sit by?" Susan pleaded.
"I'm the eldest, I have a responsibility to protect my family. I swore to mother and father that I would."
"Even they would say this is insanity!"
"I know…I know it is…"
Susan reached for him, as far as the bars would let her. Her fingers couldn't quite get to his chest. Instead her eyes traced the outline of the makeshift bandages under his shirt.
"Were you hurt when they arrested you? Have they let a physician see you at all?"
"It's fine, Susan, no more than scratches. The hunt was eventful before everything turned upside-down."
"That's not exactly reassuring."
"I wish I could give you more. Just promise me that—"
"I'll keep quiet, yes. For all our sakes. I won't deny, I absolutely hate this, but you have my word. As long as you don't give up hope that something can be done. Maybe it's not obvious at the moment, but it could still become clear before it's too late."
Peter gave her a sad smile. "Keep yourselves out of trouble."
Very reluctantly, Susan left. Peter flopped down noisily, owing to the chains, so that his back rested against the wall. He didn't want to let himself hope. Hope carried the chance of being disappointed, and he didn't see any alternative in this case. Miraz held all the cards. Much of the council had been appointed under his regency, Peter doubted he would find any allies there.
Anyway, he didn't want to admit to Susan that he felt responsible for Caspian's death whether or not it was by his own hand. He had failed to protect his friend. His future king. He had failed to bring Caspian home. The loss of the prince weighed heavily on his conscience, like a leech growing fat off of its host.
Even if he had a way out of this, he wouldn't be able to shake that guilt.