A Prequel to "The Horse and His Boy"

Aranel; 2004

A/N: This was one of those experiments in writing that just happened to turn into Narnia. It's rather short, but then, it is only a prequel.

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"He doth quaff the ale with the strength of the bear!" exulted King Lune, with a booming laugh.

"It is so," the queen agreed. "He shalt become a great man or I am a conie!"

"If he hast such a thirst for this ale now," began the king, "he might surpass even me."

The wife nodded in concurrence. "It might be so," she said. "As such, let us bestow upon him a name fit for his remarkable talent."

"Cor?"

"It is well," said the queen, abruptly sighing. "But a darkened cloud looms over me that I cannot drive away, as of the thought that something ill will befall the young prince."

"And of his brother?" asked the king. "What of him?"

"Young Corin, he shalt be called," said the queen. "But the same fate hangs over him not. I see it not in his future."

The two babes cooed on the voluptuous blanket, none the wiser of what their parents were discoursing.

The king took a sip of ale and set the chalice upon the oaken table. "Ah," he sighed heavily. "We shalt take them to the centaur. He will know what should be done."

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The words of the centaur were thus: "A day will come when this boy will save Archenland from the deadliest danger in which ever she lay."

King Lune and the queen were somewhat puzzled, though pleased as well. What was this lingering idea that an ill fate would befall Cor? However, they dismissed these thoughts and were content to be proven wrong.

"Lord Bar," addressed the king, "thou hast had thy orders. Pray see to them, at once."

"Yes, my lord," said Bar, feigning a submissive bow and egressing from the tent. Lord Bar had his own scheme in mind. A spy from the Tisroc of Tashbaan, his first thought was to collect highly furtive information and relay it back to his true master. Now, a wicked plot was forming in his mind. Save Archenland? Why, his task was to ultimately bring about the downfall of Archenland! However, perhaps (he thought), the centaur had been lying, or had been creating a story simply to please the monarchs. Finally, he decided he couldn't risk it. He silently mounted the black gelding outside the tent and turned the horse. His orders from King Lune had been to deliver a message to the Narnian kings and queens not far away begging an audience, but that was not where his tugs on the reins took him.

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"Where hast Cor gone?" asked the queen, her countenance one of worry. "He wast here but a moment ago!" A maidservant stepped in.

"Your Majesty," she said, quickly bowing. "Is there a problem?" The queen glanced frantically around the room.

"Cor is gone!" she cried. "Someone has taken him!" And it was so. While the queen was occupied elsewhere, Lord Bar had crept into the room and surreptitiously carried the child away, all in the space of a few seconds. Though the queen turned the castle up side down, no sign of her son could she find.

"Do not worry thyself," comforted King Lune. "We wilt find him."

The queen leaned down and picked up Corin. "Nothing will happen to thee," she sobbed, hugging the child tightly to her chest.

All at once, a servant rushed in. "Excellency," he panted, "a sentinel has seen Lord Bar!"

"Where is he!" roared the king. "What hast happened?"

"He was riding madly due south!" continued the servant, breathless. "We would have fired arrows, but resisted for fear of the child."

King Lune released the queen. "I will return," he said.

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King Lune arrived home, his features dismal and gray. He could not fathom the sadness his wife would feel, the heartache of losing her son. Lord Bar had taken Cor away by ship, and though the Archenlandish fleet had overtaken and captured them, no trace of Cor was found aboard.

He sat by the wall of the bedchamber, his head in his hands. He had been such a fool for trusting Lord Bar in the first place. He had seen the treacherous gleam in the man's eye, had heard the instinctive word "traitor" in his thoughts every time he had beheld him, had known he was a spy, and had seen his beguiling yet sinister manner. What caused him to put trust in him? He would never know.

It was the young hours of the morning, the darkness hung heavy over the castle like a mist, and King Lune found himself weeping in the still echoing silence of the hall.

Finis