(words 2,829inclusive this posting)

(words 2,677 this chapter)

(I draw inspiration for my stories from the Chronicles of Narnia in all it's manifestations both canon and non-canon).

Disclaimer: The Chronicles of Narnia are the intellectual property of Clive Staples Lewis and his legally recognized representatives. We come here just to play in his garden. (Appended: The name Akela is borrowed from Rudyard Kipling's the jungle Book.)

Warning: rated T plus for some graphic depictions of violence.

The Nail: suspension

chapter 4

"The Stuff of Legends"

Akela stared longingly at the opening Petal had disappeared into. He gave himself a shake before returning to the hole in the hedgerow he had been using to observe what was going on outside.

The private came over and sat down beside him. Rummaging around in his knapsack the satyr pulled out a bundle wrapped in a sheet of waxed rice-paper. His curiosity perked, Akela watched his subordinate peel back the crisply folded edges of the package. It held what looked like a thick slice of marbled bread with some strips of meat on top.

The wolf leaning in let the delicious aroma of the vittles waft up around his nose. "Not exactly military issue Private," The sergeant joked.

"Military issue,' the satyr put on a mock look of disgust, 'Those I purse out to the kids along my rout. You know how children can be, heads filled with romantic nonsense about a soldier's life,' he chuckled. 'They just inhale the stuff."

"Are you telling me you forage for your meals the rest of your patrol," Akela razing an eyebrow asked dubiously.

Fain stifled a snigger. "Hardly, the locals treat us scouts like royalty. They ply us with only the best food and refreshments to be found locally. No siree, nothing is too good for our lads and lasses in uniform, they will tell you."

The trooper pealed off a slice of meat and popped it into his mouth, the other he handed up to the sergeant. The wolf ravenously chewed the morsel, squeezing out every last bit of flavor before reluctantly swallowing it.

"Ah, scrummy," the wolf declared.

"If you like that then try some of this." Braking the wedge in two in his lap, the private offered half to the wolf. "This will put wind in your sails and a fire in your belly," he said with a laugh.

The sergeant turning his head to look back outside said, "You best hold onto that."

Fain giving a vexed sigh let his arm droop a little. "Are you really going to put us through this Sarge. You haven't eaten so much as a handful of berries in almost two days so you must be, joke intended, hungry as a wolf."

His food laden hand pressed against the wolfs muzzle he gleefully dared, "Come on, you know you want this.' The satyr pressed a little harder. 'Right."

Akela cocking his head used his tongue to snatch the prize out of Fain's hand. The savory deliciousness lingering in his mouth the wolf regretfully swallow the treat.

With a shudder of delight the sergeant asked, "Where did you come by that? It was splendid."

Fain licking the grease off his fingers, he dried them on the rag he used to keep his sword wiped clean. "A badger war widow who lives just west of where we met makes them for us scouts. We are of little burden to her, though. Rangers patrolling the rout in the anticlockwise direction make sure she is always well provisioned."

"Ummm," the wolf hummed. With a touch of gallows humor he added, "It makes a fine last meal." The private falling silent, Akela knew he had pushed the joke a little too far. "Does the idea of dying in combat frighten you trooper," he added trying to sound detached.

"When I put on this uniform I did so knowing that was a definite possibility, but am I scared to die? Your darn right I am. All in all, I'd rather be spending my days sitting under an apple tree sipping hard cider," the satyr mused.

After a long uncomfortable silence the soldier spoke up. "What's the deal here, Sarge? You pulled me off patrol just two, maybe three days short of getting back to barracks. You dragged me across Lantern waste and stuck my face into this hornets nest and for what. Some baubles the kings and queens couldn't care less about. I think you owe me an explanation."

"I suppose you have a right to know, Private. Back when Cair Paravel was sorting out security for the royal family, it came to the attention of intelligence Jadis had been working on a way to bridge vast distances using a magic doorway or tunnel. She had, it is said, mastered the skill to create these doorways but the problem remained of how to make them exit where you wanted. That's where your baubles come in, Private. They are very possibly the keys needed to open a door to the king and his family. There would have been no way to protect the royals from such an invasion short of surrounding them bodily day and night with a regiment of guards. Scholars agreed she was the only one who could command such power but with her demise the threat had been seen as being significantly reduced."

The satyr interrupted, "I've come up against a few hags and most possess scarcely enough power to blow their own nose - "

"True enough,' Akela continued, 'but a coven linked magically can command far more power then any one mage. Add to that the information provided by our new ally concerning the Guardian out there, that and the fact this is the night of the summer solstice, Deadeyes just might have all the power she could need. If I were planning an assassination I could not choose a better night then tonight. With the preparations being made to celebrate the first summer of the new era, security back at the castle is bound to be on the lax side."

"Do you think the hag has any chance of pulling it off," the private asked.

Akela sighed, "I don't know trooper but here's more fuel for the fire. What if they can't contain the forces they plan to unleash. I can see a firestorm of magic scorching the earth from here to Cair Paravel. Worse, what if this storm were to splash over, spreading out in all directions. It could conceivably tear apart the world!"

Fain wearily massaging his temples with a middle finger and thumb, queried. "So what's the plan Sarge. Any ideas?"

"A few but everything depends on Petal," he said.

The temperature along the banks of the Great River continued to climb as the sun inexorably marched towards the western horizon. The aquifer hidden just inches beneath their feet added to the moisture coming off the river making the humidity all but unbearable. Akela and his adjutant's discomfort was mitigated by the knowledge the rabble out on the mudflat was baking under the afternoon sun without even benefit of shade.

Come the second hour after noon the sergeant tried striking up a conversation to pass the time. "Trooper...' he said in an overly harsh voice. He paused before continuing in a gentler tome. 'Fain? Does it bother you ..." the wolf looked at him apologetically.

The trooper in a near catatonic state only responded with, "Um."

"Does it bother you, you know, to take orders from someone like me,' he asked. 'Someone who use to serve at Jadis pleasure."

The satyr rolling up on an elbow focused on the wolf. "Say, listen. I've known plenty of honorable wolfs, and a few fauns and satyrs who carried the winter queen's colors, so to me one's breed does not necessarily dictate one's loyalties." Fain flopping back to the ground stared up at the leafy ceiling. "Some people might not agree with his decision but if good king Peter chooses to offer unconditional amnesty to anyone who swears fealty to the throne, who am I to judge. Besides, I agree with him, we do better with you then with out you."

The sergeant cleared his throat, "Would it change your mind if I told you I am the son of Maugrim the infamous. Well one of his sons, anyway."

The trooper rolled back up quickly, his mouth agape but before he could say a word a sound came to them from the back of the glade. It was Petal's voice but it was different somehow. It held an almost matriarchal quality, nothing like the cocky, self-assuredness she had displayed when they first met.

"That's right, that's right it's just up ahead," she could be heard to say. "Yes, we're almost there. Stay in line, don't bunch up and mind the twigs."

Petal tumbled into the clearing and turned quickly to face the opening. First one then another and finally a third griffin slithered in to the blind behind her.

Akela's jubilation turn sour almost immediately. 'Three griffins, indeed, more like three fledglings.' The sergeant doubted not one of them had yet to see their third, let alone their fourth molting.

With all the formality of a dinner hostess presenting the arrival of honored guests Petal introduced them. "This is Virga and his sisters, Tempest and Crimsondawn."

Akela failing to keep the disappointment from his voice inquired, "Is this the best you could do?"

Petal shot him a dangerous look. "It is, unless you want to lead a bunch of squirrels and hedgehogs into battle."

Akela wanting nothing more then to howl his frustration into the wind somehow found the patients to restrain himself. "Children, your courage is admirable but I'm afraid I must send you away. We are about to face desperate, battle hardened veterans and I cannot assure your safety."

The sergeant's edict being met by a storm of protests, he said in cool military fashion. "The matter is out of my paws. The order comes down from the high king himself. I'm paraphrasing him here, 'All griffins are hereby exempt from military service until such time as they again fill the skies over narnia."

The one called Virga, judging by the tufts of adult male colors peeking out from under juvenile plumage, sputtered, "How - why?"

The thought of opening old wounds on his mind, Akela tried to explain, "It must have been obvious when your mothers and fathers did not return something terrible must have happened. your elders, on the eve of battle had petitioned the king for the privilege of spearheading the first wave. They understood full well casualties would be high but if one, just one of them managed to get through and tear off the witch's head the war would have been over before it even got started. No one could have foreseen that Jadis, believing her rival dead, would just throw her army willy-nilly against Aslan's forces in an attempt to get at the kings and queens. Her archers no longer burdened by the need to harry the enemies flanks were free to fill the air overhead with withering fire. Jadis simply swept aside the few who managed to get through. With the cessation of hostilities, so impressed was king Peter by the valor and selflessness displayed by the griffins he took it upon himself to protect the last vestiges of your race."

"Mister Akela." Virga in a boyish but still unwavering voice said, "As you pointed out we have been with out parents lo these many months and we've done alright for ourselves. Now with the murderers of our elders in sight you would deny us our right to visit justice upon them? Well master wolf, Lady Petal warned us you might say something like that. If you are refusing our help, she has promised to lead us into battle herself."

Fain tried hiding a smile. 'The little minx had succeeded in putting Akelas king in check once again.'

The sergeant dropping down hard on his haunches blew out his flews in frustration, that's when a thought crossed his mind. He still might have his scrummy and eat it too. Climbing to his feet the wolf donned a most regal bearing.

"Dwarfs have a saying,' he began in a soft voice, 'if you don't have your best tools to do a job with. Do the best job you can with the tools you have.' All right then, lets get started. Virga, do you think you can lift the trooper over there into the air."

Fain leapt to his feet so quickly his horns became tangled in the branches overhead. "Now wait just a lion blessed second Sarge!"

The griffin coolly sized up the satyr. "Not by myself but I'm sure two of us can."

"That's fine. Now, which one of you three is the strongest flyer," the sergeant asked.

The griffin who had hung back said shyly, "I am."

Virga, however, spoke right over her. "That would be Crimsondawn. The adults said she could fly rings around everyone else at the aviary."

Akela focused on her, "I need you to take a message to Cair Paravel."

First her ears then her head drooped. "But I want to stay here and kill ogres," she simpered.

"A Soldier doesn't have the luxury of doing what they want," the sergeant said in a stern voice. "A Soldier does what needs to be done, and right now I need you to carry a message to the capital as quick as you can. I do not give this order lightly, for the fate of future generations may rest in your claws.

The young griffin suitably impressed by the sergeant's poise, asked him, "What is the message?"

"Make all haste to the keep at Cair Paravel. There, seek out viceroy Tumnus the faun,' Akela murmured. 'Tell him his chief inspector, Akela, sends a dire warning. He believes that elements of the vanquished are planning on opening a magic pathway into the palace with the aim of murdering the royal family. He recommends you take all necessary precautions to insure the safety of their royal personages. I'll be doing my best to disrupt their efforts at this end. Do you think you can remember all that?"

The griffin pacing back and forth, gave him an impatient look. "Cair Paravel keep, viceroy Tumnus the faun, dire warning, magic pathway, murder royal family, insure their safety. Oh, yes. Akela trying to disrupt their plans at his end."

The sergeant said in a reassuring tone, "Crimsondawn, I can't emphasize this enough, you must get there as soon as possible. Dark mages prefer to cast spells at night, something to do with improving their chances. you only have a few hours of daylight left so you better get going."

Nodding, she turned to leave but he stopped her again. "Cousin. You must reach viceroy Tumnus, tell him everything and anything he wants to know, don't hold back. You go with the authority of the First Justice, King Edmund. If any fool tries barring your entrance into the castle, the countersign "forecastle" will serve as your warrant. If that does not suffice, then warn the dullards their commissions could well be at risk. Don't forget the password forecastle. Aslan speed." He turned to the others, "You three, make sure Crimsondawn gets off safely then hurry back, we have plans to make."

The sergeant watched his little squad meld with the bracken before turning his attention back to the fell spawn barring his way. "How many do you think are out there, Private."

"Maybe thirty five or thirty six give or take a few,' the satyr answered. 'Mercifully, I didn't see one Old Narnian in the lot."

The sergeant looking over at him agreed. "That would be my guess too, and if the covenant has managed to link up we're looking at a force equal to that of a second platoon."

The satyr maintained a look of nonchalant indifference at this news.

Turning his attention outside once again, Akela tried gauging their chances. 'Almost half a company of bloodthirsty renegades against what. A sassy wolf cub, a couple of fledglings, a disgraced enlistee and a turncoat. Dear Aslan, is this how legends are born?'

A/N. Well, that's about it for this post except to say I've decided to brake my promise about chapter length and write what I feel like (with in reason, of course). I leave you with this thought, if we all try to do unto others as we would have them do unto us, we could make a heaven of this earth.

Bye-bye, and may Aslan bless.