I'm not entirely happy with it, but I had to put something out before everyone lost interest. Thank you for the reviews, keep them coming.
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Chapter 9.
Suruv was beyond livid when he saw the blow that killed his beloved money making warrior, but it didn't stop him from accepting an invitation to a nobleman's home for another banquet. He was moody the rest of the afternoon, and Aoife was more than happy to find any and every excuse to avoid him.
She stepped out to the stables, where her horse gave her a cheerful greeting. Stroking the beautiful animal's nose, her eyes strayed out the window to a double peaked mountain Pericles had told her was called Mount Pire. An uneasy feeling settled in her stomach at the gray sight of it. She was ready to leave Calormen forever, but the vagueness of the future made her nervous. She knew she was being irrational, that any amount of mystique was more hopeful than a life as Shameth's wife, but all the same, she couldn't help but wonder what she would do when she got there.
She heard someone approach, and was relieved to see Pericles.
"I suppose Suruv has sent you here to urge me to get ready for the banquet?"
"Indeed. Are you alright?"he asked her, noticing the almost queasy look on her face.
"Of course,"she reassured him, "I just wish it was all over."
"So do I. Are you ready?"
"I suppose. The peasants are terribly chaotic after the death of Galian. Are you sure it's safe outside?"
"Maybe not safe,"he replied, escorting her out of the stable, "but you've less of a risk of being noticed or missed. Don't worry,"he added, consolingly, "I wouldn't send you out there in this situation were I not fully confident of your abilities. You've progressed very will with your sword fighting and archery. I'm proud of you."
He was rewarded with her glowing smile, and the two proceeded to walk to back to the house. Both were silent and thoughtful, each trapped in their own thoughts, though they were both thinking the same thing: if all went well, this would be the last peaceful moment they would share with one another.
Aoife regretfully held back all the meaningful things she wanted to say to him, hoping and praying she would be able to do so at another, more convenient time. They parted ways when they reached the sandstone building, where Aoife surrendered herself to the mercy of her ladies-in-waiting, who, for the next hour and a half, primped and styled Aoife until she banished them out of temper and waited the remaining hour for the call to leave.
The pink and golden rays of twilight glowed on the city. Everywhere, the sounds of shouts and chaos still rang. Aoife shook her head as she climbed into the carriage. She too had been taken throughly by surprise at the death of Galian. She, like so many others that had seen him fight, had thought of him as invincible, a constant that couldn't be eradicated by the most drastic of means. And yet, she sat now in a world without him, and, though she couldn't explain it, the thought made her sad.
The palace where the banquet was held was gaudy and over-decorated, even by the standards of a nobleman like Suruv or Shameth. The owner of the establishment, a hefty, loud man named Yasser, took it upon himself to give a tour of his many-roomed and colorful estate, located outside the walls of Tashbaan. Everywhere she looked, Aoife saw the statue of a Calormen hero long dead or a depiction of Tash or another god woven into a tapestry, hung high above the heads of all.
Though she tried to strike up a conversation with random people about the treasures Yasser boasted, none of them lasted, for she was too nervous and had too much on her mind to be able to keep up a conversation. She walked about aimlessly, and fixated herself in front of the painting of a lion, lying in a desert, black mountains rising in the background, glaring sinisterly at the viewer. The lion himself wore an angry expression, his red eyes boring into Aoife's, giving her the feeling that he was trying to steal her soul. His teeth were not bared, but the frown on his face was just as awful as the teeth would have been, and his claws were razor sharp, the tips of them stained red.
"It's a rotten picture,"a voice said behind her. She turned to see none other than her "beloved" fiancee, Shameth. He stumbled and reeled towards her, obviously drunk, and Aoife knew why. He had bet much more money than necessary on Galian's win, in an effort to show off to his fellow Tarkaans, and had ultimately lost most of what he owned.
He nearly fell onto her, and grabbed her painfully by the arm, "Do you see that lion? He is the one those foul demons-in-human-form worship. His heart is black, and he represents all that the Barbarians of the north stand for. You,"he added, squeezing her arm harder, making tears come to Aoife's eyes, "you're just like them. You don't belong here, with us, the supreme race. Your father should have killed you long ago for displaying the rude and disrespectful behavior you have shown me. When you are my wife, I will remedy that. Oh yes, you will regret you ever crossed me,"and with a final shove, he stumbled away.
Aoife, close to tears, but more out of anger now than pain, turned to see the face of a pale, brown haired young woman, with clear gray eyes and a concerned look.
"My dear,"the other woman asked, "are you alright?"
"Yes, of course, I'm fine,"Aoife reassured her, now noticing Pericles standing by the door across the room, looking worried as well. At a shake of her head, he halted his path that led towards her, and stayed at his post by the door, still watchful. Meanwhile, the young woman was making introductions.
"I'm Delwyn, of Archenland. And you?"
"Aoife Tarkheena, I am the daughter of Suruv Tarkaan. His fighter, Galian, was killed today."
"Yes, I heard all the commotion over him. Was he a great fighter?"
"The best my father has produced so far. If I may, though, why has Archenland taken an interest in our slave fights?"
The other shook her head, "Merely diplomacy. King Rilian and the ambassadors from Narnia and Archenland were invited to stay a fortnight by the Tisroc, and he extended the invitation to the arena. It's quite a vicious sport, I don't see how you can stand it."
"I usually hate watching them,"Aoife explained, "but Galian's abilities piqued my curiosity. He was remarkable, I wish you had seen him in his prime."
"So do I. He looked,"here Delwyn paused, choosing her words cautiously, not knowing who Aoife was and who she might spread them to, "he looked, and I don't presume to accuse Calormen of anything, but he looked...almost Narnian."
"He was Narnian. The slave trader told my father so."
Delwyn looked disturbed at the information she had just received, so much so that it touched Aoife's heart. She wanted to discuss further, but unfortunately, Delwyn was called away by another courtier. Before she left, she looked at the picture Aoife had been staring at, "Your friend was right, you know,"she told Aoife, "it is a rotten picture. Aslan doesn't look like that at all. Excuse me, please."
Aoife watched her walk away with puzzlement, and turned her attention to where Pericles stood. He had been trying to catch her eye, she could tell. As soon as he did, he nodded to her, then disappeared out the door. Aoife took a deep breath and pushed her way through the crowd of people to the door he had just exited. It was time.
"Making some influential friends, weren't you?"he asked her as they met outside.
"What do you mean?"
"Didn't she introduce herself?"
"Yes. Her name is Delwyn, from Archenland."
"Did she tell you she was Princess Delwyn of Archenland?"
"What? No, she didn't."
Yasser had obviously invested more into his art collection than into his defenses, for there was only a handful of guards keeping watch over the thin wall that separated Yasser from the rest of humanity, and they weren't doing that very well. No one even questioned Pericles as he led Aoife to the stables where his horse was munching lazily on straw. The appropriate measures were taken to make sure their horseback ride would be comfortable, then they were on their way. The courtyard was deserted, and Pericles hypothesized that the guards were taking advantage of the Tarkaan's open wine cellars. The fresh air greeted them as they passed beyond the gate, with Aoife constantly looking back to make sure they weren't being watched. Pericles urged the horse on faster, and they rode in a quickly paced trot until they reached the edge of the forest, on the edge of which Aoife's own horse was stationed as previously planned. They proceeded into the dark cover of the trees, where Aoife changed into the soldier's outfit Pericles had acquired for her. She looked very ridiculous, and felt extraordinarily uncomfortable, but it was a necessary disguise. She watched as Pericles set her old clothes on fire, an almost ceremonious act, and saw the remorse in his face in the firelight.
He caught her eye, and softly said, "You'll take care of yourself, won't you?"
"Absolutely. You taught me well,"she paused, then, "I will see you again, won't I?"
"Who knows? After this, I might feel the urge to run away myself,"he smiled but knew the joke had fallen flat. He continued, more seriously, "there would be no reason to sta..."
He was interrupted by a snap of a stick behind him, an action that belong to neither he nor the horses. He turned, his hand shooting to his sword, but before he could withdraw it a blade pressed itself to his neck.
"Don't try it, Princess,"a voice called, though Aoife's hand had barely twitched. Her eyes fixed frightfully on Pericles, who looked positively horrified.
"No,"he said in a hoarse voice, "it can't be..."
"What, Pericles? What can't be?"
He didn't answer her. He continued to stare unbelievingly at the face the dark partially concealed, all the while saying, "You died. I saw you. You..."
"Who is it, Pericles?"Aoife asked in a voice that wouldn't be ignored.
"It's..it's the Narnian. Galian."
She wasn't inclined to believe him, until Galian stepped into the firelight. His face wore a mocking look, though Aoife could sense the desperation within him.
"This is an interesting scene I've run into,"Galian said lightly, "the Captain of the Guards and a Princess dressed as a soldier standing in the middle of a wood in the dark. This could only mean an escape of some sort."
"Do you intend to blackmail us?"Pericles shot.
"Not necessarily. Actually, a idea has just occurred to me where we can help each other."
"And that is?"Aoife asked.
"Judging by the equipment you carry, I suppose you're going to attempt a journey across the desert to the northern countries. Why shouldn't we band together? I myself would like nothing more than to taste to fresh air of Narnia. I could escort her."
"Absolutely not!"roared Pericles, and would have attacked Galian at the mere mention of so had he blade not pressed tighter to his neck.
"Now, Captain,"Galian warned, "be logical. I've made the journey across the desert, and I know a thing or two about swordplay. I'd make sure she reached Archenland in one piece. Or you could take me back to Suruv like you're supposed to, and I might accidently let it slip that the missing Tarkheena is en route to Narnia, aided and abetted by none other than the virtuous Captain of the Guards. Or you could kill me, which you and I both know would not happen. The choice is yours, Captain, and if I may say so, it seems to be an easy one."
As egotistical as he sounded, Aoife knew he was right, and voiced the answer to Pericles.
"I will not let you ride across the desert with this filthy criminal!"he nearly shouted.
"A criminal, am I?"Galian asked indignantly. The other two ignored him.
"Pericles, like he said, he knows the way, and he's a good fighter."
"What if he takes advantage of you?"Pericles argued.
"I swear on my honor, Captain, I'll be a perfect gentleman,"Galian chimed in, a promise that did not ease Pericles's worries in the least. "Pericles,"Aoife pleaded, "I won't get another chance at this, and we're wasting time. If he says he won't hurt me, I believe him. He wants to get to Narnia as much as I do, and he wouldn't do anything to jeopardize that."
Pericles sighed. He didn't trust Galian, not one bit. There was nothing to stop him from harming Aoife except his word, and Galian didn't trust that either. But Aoife was right. Time was running out, and Galian was the best sword fighter he had ever seen, and would be an ideal bodyguard.
"Alright,"he relented, "alright."
Galian withdrew his sword, and Pericles took the opportunity to seize Galian by his collar and threw him against a tree, despite Aoife's protests. Tightening his hold, he growled lowly and menacingly, "If anything happens to her, anything at all, I'll kill you, do you understand?" Galian nodded with a smirk.
He released him, and the trio walked to the edge of the forest, the path that led to the Tombs of the Ancient Kings not far away. Pericles faced his friend, "Are you sure you know what to do?"
She smiled, "Of course. I have someone to help me now, if I go astray."
His glanced darted to Galian uneasily, "I still don't like this, Aoife."
"We don't have a choice. I'll either go with him or not go at all."
Silence fell upon both of them, and losing all his composure, Pericles grabbed Aoife and kissed her like he would never stop. Galian rolled his eyes but looked to the horse in an effort to give them privacy. The couple , completely oblivious to everything except each other, continued their final goodbye. Breathing heavily, Pericles whispered, "I wish I could have married you. I've loved you for so long."
"I love you too. I'll miss you terribly."
They kissed again, then urgency overtook them, and she pulled away. She mounted her horse and waited patiently as Galian climbed clumsily behind her. She grasped Pericles's hand, whispered her final goodbye, then galloped down the path as fast as the horse would go. Pericles waited until he could no longer hear the beating of hooves, then mounted his steed, an overwhelming sense of sadness building up inside him.