The river looks alive as it flows past us with an earthy sound.
After a journey that I wouldn't wish on Arsheesh, we've found the valley that Sallowpad, the raven, spoke of. The horses are drinking noisily. I'm in the water, completely dunking myself. And Aravis is watching me out of the corner of her black eyes. I know, because I'm watching her out of the corner of my blue eyes.
The rest is deeply refreshing, and everyone's drowsy quite presently. I want to get up, to go to them and force them to move on. But sleep beckons, and I'm simply in no position to resist. I lie down, staring at the silver moon surrounded by the rich velvet night. I think of Aravis.
She's touching me. And shouting. What could I have done while sleeping?
Sleeping…! Gods, it's broad daylight! I see her frustration clearly; we've all overslept, possibly making this torturous trip in vain. I scramble to my feet. She's trying to wake the horses.
"Bree," she grunts while pulling at his bridle, "get up now."
He argues with her in his dismissive tone. It's never rankled so much as it does now. I want to jump in, to defend her. But something holds me back, and I stand quietly, stroking Hwin's nose. The mare is quite upset, and prances nervously before speaking.
"Forgive me," she says, "I feel just as we all do. I think that I can't go on either. But I think - I know - that there's been times when I just couldn't go another step, but I was forced to, and I always found that I could. If we're doing this for Narnia's sake, why shouldn't we be able to go as far as we need to?"
Giving her a withering look, Bree draws himself up to his full height and says in an icy tone, "I find myself just a little more qualified to talk about forced marches than yourself."
For the first time in memory, I see Aravis give him a look of pure hatred. I feel much the same; if I had a whip in my hand right now, I'd hit him with it. Instead, we both turn away from him and comfort Hwin.
As we exit the valley and trot over a heath, Hwin gasps. Aravis asks her if she's hurt herself. The response instills fear in all of us.
"It's Rabadash!"
Aravis automatically punches Hwin with her heels, urging the horse onward. I do likewise, feeling Bree's heart began to pound as he runs faster.
We race with the army, but although we're ahead, it's not enough. And for some unknown reason, Bree is beginning to lag. Aravis yells at him, but he splutters foam and shakes his head.
Just then, we all hear a lion snarling. Bree spasms, bolts, and within seconds I look back through the dust that surrounds us to see Hwin and Aravis far behind. And gaining on the two of them, the lion.
"Bree!" I shout. I have no reins to slow his progress, and he's forbidden me to pull his mane. "We have to go back!" He continues on recklessly. He hasn't heard me.
My hands feel slippery against my knees, but I know what I'm going to do. I jump off at a horrible angle and go stumbling back on a twisted ankle. Hwin is streaming sweat; she can't run any faster. Aravis is turning backwards while trying to draw her sword.
The lion is leaping at them.
Hwin screams as she makes one final plunging effort to get away, but all I can see is Aravis' face, the expression of overwhelming despair. Brave as she is, she doesn't want to die.
I'm almost there when the claws tear into her back and mutilate her skin. She cries out and falls against Hwin's neck.
And now I'm here. I have nothing to attack with except my rage. I scream, "Go away!" at the beast as it lands from its terrible leap and to my infinite surprise, it does.
Hwin, nearly insensible with fright, has stopped just a little way ahead of me. A wizened old man, stands in the entrance of a moss-encrusted gate, bringing the terrified horse and the injured girl in to safety. Bree, as expected, has beaten everyone else and is watching the scene from the far corner of the enclosed garden. But I don't have time to confront him. I approach the hermit. "Are you King Lune of Archenland?"
He disappoints me by negating, but as I tell him the dire situation that Archenland faces, he turns me away from his home and points in the opposite direction. "My son, you will find the King if you run that way." I take an anxious look towards his cottage, but he once again turns me in the way that I am to go. "Remember, you must always run, or you will be too late."
I do as I am urged, only half thinking about my mission to find King Lune. A beautiful, dark-skinned princess occupies the rest of my thoughts.