Amnesty Prompt 2: Include a country not named in Lewis' books in your story today.
This year's fest is almost over. Didn't think I'd get to write for it, but one plot bunny finally cooperated. Hope you enjoy :)
Come to Me.
A stout tree created a facsimile of cover. She leaned around its trunk, careful not to touch the bark this time. She would never reach the group undetected if another Dryad tried to start a loud conversation. Flighty creatures, those. She preferred silence.
And sleep. That, too, but the threat of discovery prevented such a needed break. She could not risk Fath—Arkush. The swine's name was Arkush—tracking her to the "Barbarian Lion." One would think that finding himself exiled from Calormen would make the former Tarkaan rethink his life's choices, but she had failed to escape—and been beaten for trying—three times in the months since Arkush had dragged her into exile with them. Over a day's journey from the Narnian line, never mind the first sign of houses, Arkush's self-named "country" boasted two huts, a treehouse, a well, and barely enough food to feed the five lazy men—all of whom ordered her around like a slave. She had long tired of growing the food, cooking it, serving it, and never being allowed to eat it. Slight vindictiveness wondered if they had eaten since she left.
No matter. She did not live there anymore, nor would she have to again. Experience had taught her to take the direct opposite of anything Arkush claimed, and when he had declared the Lion a demon and the monstrous Tash to be Almighty, two Tigers' excited conversation had prompted one last attempt. Aslan would protect her, shield her, care about her, everything Arkush had denied when she overheard stories from Narnians hunting the Wilds.
Come to Me, and I will give you rest.
Coming. If even half the stories were true, He knew she was coming. She just had to find the right path. A convenient bush provided cover to the next tree, where she dove out of sight of the Badger enjoying the shade. Aslan's presence had birthed a gathering of beings far larger than anything she had seen even in Tashbaan. Several sick had walked away healed, children younger than she approached without fear, and that Leopard cub earlier had boasted of "catching Aslan's tail." Everything she heard announced Him loving, gentle, merciful, patient, and so much more. She would be safe with Him, never to return to Arkush even if he did find her.
She simply had to reach Him. A group of large Horses milled in front of her bush, and she used their movements to disguise her own. Should she run for that small cluster of trees, or would the other side of the group be safer?
Neither. A glance ensured no one looked at her before she darted to a different tree. Then its neighbor. A third put her just outside the group. Now how could she reach the middle?
There. A herd of half man half horse creatures—Centaurs?—stood off to one side. Caring for Arkush's many horses had taught her how to dodge hooves, and they would probably ignore the small Daughter of Eve ducking between their legs. A fruit-laden bush provided a snack as she chose her route.
Stay away from the small ones. Children made too much noise, and the mothers might see her as a threat.
Avoid the younger males as well, like those two elbowing each other behind a mother. They would be more likely to challenge her presence—or simply want to converse.
The full adults all carried large swords. A lack of desire to meet those blades barred that route.
Oldsters. Several near-elderly males and females slowly walked closer to fill a gap almost directly between her and the great Lion. They would see her as too small and young to be a threat, and if one proved as ornery as her nearly forgotten Grandpapa, the strange comments would only make the others ignore him—them—completely. She edged to one side to spot her first gap, hunched to make herself as small as possible, and—as soon as the rear Centaurs looked away—darted from her hiding place.
Duck a swishing tail. Dodge between two sets of hooves. Beneath one Centaur. Behind the next. In front. Under. Duck an elbow. Avoid the hand reaching for his partner. Sidestep one in her path. Dodge a motherly female's glance at the movement. Thirty terrifying seconds saw her through, around, and under the mass of oversized strangers and into the clear space surrounding the Lion. Silence fell as every eye instantly landed on her.
She never slowed, keeping the non-threatening posture as two large steps nearly dove at the Lion's paws. Even if traditions differed here, the entire gathering would know the request conveyed by laying at His feet. No other position carried as much submission.
For a long moment, silence answered her. She merely curled smaller, waiting for direction of what to do next. He had called her. She knew He had called her. He would accept her plea for refuge.
"Rest, Daughter of Eve. You are safe."
Deep as the deepest ocean. Rich as the Tisroc's food. Kind as Arkush was not. The Voice steadied her, calmed her, cradled her as gently as the paw now brushing her shoulder. A breath of mountain air—sweet with rain yet warm with comfort and safety—rustled her hair and promised all was well, and with that tacit acknowledgement, she relaxed for the first time in longer than she could remember.
She could stay here.