Author's note: The 'King of Fruits' here is referring to a popular local fruit in my country that's called 'durian'. If you ever had the chance to taste it, don't pass it up, because it really is delicious!
Chapter 5: A Band of Narnians
"Well!" Mallory only managed to say. "Well!"
"Well?" the Eagle heaved a sob and looked away. "Now you know! Oh, I am so ashamed of myself! Not being able to fly! And do you know what came of it? I was turned out, yes, turned out from Stormness Head!" Now he burst into open weeps and tears flowed from his red and sore eyes. "The Talking Animals think that I am no use to them. Oh, Daughter of Eve, if only you knew the pain, the pain of rejection!"
Mallory could see full and well now why the Eagle was so miserable. If she was in his shoes she would have been just as self-piteous. Now she no longer felt angry at him, nor did she find him silly. Instead she felt very sorry for him. Were you Mallory, who generally loved animals, you would have felt the same.
So she did her best to comfort him. She said encouraging words to him and tried to make them grand and a little airy. All this paid off when the Eagle finally laughed and said, "All right, Eve's Daughter, no more praises! I'm feeling loads better now, so I shall stand and stretch my wings!" He stood and opened his wings just like any of us might stretch like a cat after sitting or sleeping for too long. Mallory saw the true length and size of his wings and felt that it was a real pity indeed that he couldn't fly.
Suddenly she remembered Aslan's task. "Say, Mr. Eagle, do you know the way to Mount Pire?"
"Eh, Mount Pire? Of course I do!" the Eagle beamed at her and dabbed his eyes with one wing. "I'm Narnian all through and through, but in my youth I have oft journeyed to the House of Father Christmas in Archenland for Christmas!"
Mallory's eyes lighted up. "You do? Oh, that's – that's super! For you see, I have a task to do!" And she told him about the task that Aslan set upon her.
The Eagle's eyes widened more and more as she progressed, and when she had finished, he looked astounded. "By the Lion's Mane, seeing Aslan himself! It is my childhood dream! But, why of course, I would be glad to guide you to the House of Father Christmas. It is a wonderful place, and he is such a kind Father too! Come with me now, come with me! If only I had been able to fly, I reckon we could have gotten there before the day ends (I know the power of an Eagle's wings, flightless I may be!). Come now, come now! Don't let's dawdle. And by the way, my name is Firumel, just Firumel. Off we go!"
"Thank you, Firumel. Oh thank you!" Mallory did indeed have a good reason to thank him, for if she had not met the Eagle, or tried to comfort him, she would have gotten lost in Archenland and fail to accomplish the task. Then she would be dismayed and sent back to her own world feeling very angry with herself, and she would have to answer Uncle Bertram too. But what was worse was disappointing Aslan again.
Mallory and Firumel skirted the foot of the mountains throughout the next few days, always looking out for a forest of only pine trees. During the day they travelled and they slept by night. They went at quite a leisurely pace. Even though Mallory often insisted they went faster, they never quite managed to do so. This is because the true weight of the condition of Narnia that Aslan had presented to Mallory hadn't quite terrified their wits yet, and this was very pitiful indeed, because this caused them to think that there was no need to hurry.
To add to their laidback manner, the journey was quite easy too. There was no shortage of berries and apples and (curiously) a thorny, smelly fruit that disgusted Mallory at first sight. Firumel said that the fruit was quite tasty inside, and didn't bother to see if Mallory would consent to eating it before he proceeded to bring it down. He brought the fruit down with a throw of the stone (an odd sight but not if you are in Archenland and it's a Talking Eagle doing it) and tore it open with its talons.
Its flesh was bright yellow, quite like the colour of corn, and it smelt horrible. Mallory pinched her nose and said indignantly, "I'm not eating that!"
"Yes, you are!" Firumel picked one piece out with its beak and picked the delicious flesh out from around the seed until there was only a gleaming orange, oval-shaped seed. Firumel threw the seed away and clicked its beak. "Do try it, Mallory. It's fantastic!"
And because Firumel didn't throw it all up, Mallory decided to be brave and plucked a small piece out. She stared at it, her face quite green, and put it into her mouth.
The taste of the fruit was wonderful and soft and creamier than any milk she had ever tasted. She found no words to describe its taste; all she could think of was how incredibly tasty it was! And when she was busy finishing that particular piece, Firumel continued with another one. After they had finished one section of the fruit, he tore at it and there were two more section of the fruit. And, oh, that was even more heavenly than the first ones! Mallory and Firumel ate it all so eagerly that they didn't realise that they were full to the lining of their stomachs when the whole fruit had been properly cleaned out.
"Oh, Firumel, what a delightful meal!" Mallory sat on the grass and clutched her full stomach. "But how curious, I'm feeling very warm now! As if I'm having a fever!"
Firumel cackled and settled on the grass. "It's always like this when you've eaten the King of Fruits! You get really hot and very, very drowsy. But it'll all go away after a good sleep, don't you worry …" and with that he had shut his eyes and went into deep sleep. Seeing Firumel asleep, Mallory gave a short laugh and drifted off into a dreamless sleep.
When they both awoke (at the same time), they were unbelievably thirsty. They strolled around, looking for a nice stream, and when they had found one, they drank deep from it, for the fruit seemed to have sapped all the water out of their throats.
"Salt water's most effective," said Firumel after they had quenched their thirst and felt like themselves again. "But we haven't got any sea anywhere near. Come on, let's get a move on, shall we?"
And they did. They went on and on at the edge of the mountains and had more helpings of the King of Fruits until Mallory had gotten quite fed up of them. Actually, she was very tired of everything. If you were Mallory, you would feel the same too. Imagine having to do nothing but walk in the forest, eat fruits, drink from streams and sleep on grass. It might sound very nice, but having to do this for several days was very, very tiresome.
Firumel, however, was good at ticking her off. Whenever Mallory complained of having to eat nothing but berries, he snapped, "Be thankful that you've got good berries instead of poisonous ones." And when Mallory grumbled about sleeping on nothing but grass, he bit her head off by saying, "Thank Aslan that you've not been sent to cross the desert to Calormen!"
Nothing very eventful happened during their journey; for no enemy dared to enter Archenland when King Rufus, father of King Lune, was ruler of that land in Anvard. But there are Narnians who managed to escape the iron fist of the White Witch and managed to cross the mountains into Archenland. They were rare, but as fortune would have it, Mallory and Firumel met up with one such band one fine evening.
Firumel was the first to greet and recognise them, for his eyes were sharp and he had oft been in Narnia before the Great Winter fell upon his kin.
"Greetings, fair Narnians! Have you any news of that land that now lies helplessly under the tyranny of the Witch Jadis?" he called out to the merry but sad-looking band that were huddled around a crackling fire.
Among the group were three Fauns (such curious creatures, thought Mallory), four Dwarfs, a pair of Talking Foxes and an army of Talking Mice. Upon hearing Firumel's greetings, one member of the Talking Mice jumped up from his perch and pointed a short wooden sword at the Eagle.
"Ho there, Talking Eagle! What is your business, for Talking you may be, you are no friend to me!" it squeaked bravely.
One of the Fauns named Corcus said tiresomely, "Keep your sword and hold your tongue, Cheeveereep! A Talking Eagle of Narnia is more welcome than your bitter words and foolish courage!"
The Mouse Cheeveereep gave a shriek of anger, but it kept its sword nevertheless, and went back grumpily to the fire, amidst the tinkling laughter of the Talking Mice.
Mallory liked the Faun at once, for he had a nice and pleasant face that was sure to guarantee your trust. Plus, he did not look like an Enemy, and his words were kind. "If it pleases you, Mr. Faun, the Eagle Firumel and I are on our way to the House of Father Christmas!"
There was a round of rowdy clapping and cheering when the Narnians heard them. "Hurrah! Hurrah! Father Christmas has not been able to enter Narnia for an age!" said Corcus, his eyes shining with excitement. "And we certainly haven't an inkling as to where he lives! Do you? Do you know?"
Firumel was not very pleased with this, because, like all Eagles, he was a haughty creature, and liked to keep precious information to himself. He opened his beak to say, "No, I don't." but Mallory had rushed forward and said, "Firumel does! Firumel does! He's been there a number of times for Christmas!"
There was more cheering and clapping and the Mouse Cheeveereep stood and bowed at Firumel. "I beg of you, good Eagle, to guide us to the House of Father Christmas, for never have my heart longed for such comfort in a familiar figure of legends. We could all use a little bit of Christmas cheer in our hearts!"
"Why," said Mallory, who had begun liking Cheeveereep. "What's happened in Narnia? Why do you sound as if you haven't had Christmas at all?"
"It is all the work of the White Witch!" another Faun called Grumbus called out. "She is the one who has made it always winter in Narnia but never Christmas!"
"Oh, how horrible!" exclaimed Mallory, and she remembered the image of the Witch that she had seen before, of her turning an animal into stone. All at once, a sensation of horror and dread fell upon her, so much so that she shuddered. "How horrible of her!"
"Yes, she is a beast!" Cheeveereep cried, waving his wooden sword angrily. "I shall smite her where she stands! I shall tear her glorious gown from her skin and see how she likes the icy touch of the frost against her bareness! And I've a good mind to knock that thing she calls a crown off her head and throw it into the Sea! Oh yes, oh yes, I will, see if I don't!"
"Don't be silly, Cheeveereep!" said Corcus, unable to stop shaking, for all the Narnians, including Firumel and Mallory, were doubled up in laughter. Cheeveereep blushed at realising the foolishness of his words, but he said most chivalrously, "Well, it doesn't hurt to dream!"
"No it won't," said Grumbus, his voice as grainy-sounding as his name. "The only ones who can do that are Aslan and the four Children of Eve, as is according to the Prophecy. But it's good calling, Cheeveereep. Good calling!"
"Four Children of Eve?" Mallory asked, curious now. "You mean, two boys and two girls?"
Corcus and Grumbus gave her odd looks. "Why, of course! Haven't you heard it before? When Adam's flesh and Adam's bone, sit in Cair Paravel in throne, the evil time will be over and done! When two Sons of Adam and two Daughters of Eve sit in Cair Paravel, on their rightful thrones, the evil will be done with and Narnia will rejoice again!"
"No, O good Fauns, never have such Prophecy touched my ears," she replied solemnly, sounding again, like another person she felt familiar with, yet not knowing who exactly. Firumel felt the difference, and he moved his wings uncomfortably. "Mallory, I think that it's well time that you sleep!" he said at last.
The Fauns nodded in agreement and the elder Talking Mice began ushering the younger ones to go to bed too, though there was no bed, but for Mice, a good patch of grass will do.
Mallory was outraged and became quite herself again. She had quite gotten it into her head that no one was to tell her off to sleep when she was having a great adventure, so naturally she resisted. "No, I shan't. I'm old enough to stay up."
"You're tired, Mallory. And we're quite near to Father Christmas's House. Surely you don't want to come knocking at his doorstep with black rings around your eyes!" Firumel put a wing around Mallory and tried to steer her away from the Narnian band to a nice spot under a great oak tree. Mallory had to concede defeat, for his wings were powerful and the way he wrapped it around her back made it impossible for escape.
Once they were settled on the grass, Firumel whispered to her, "I've never heard you speak like that before."
Mallory gave him an angry look, for she was still quite furious with him. "What? What did I say?"
" 'O good Fauns'?" Firumel snickered a little. "You're a darling, but you're no princess."
Mallory frowned and recalled her meeting with Aslan. "Funny, now that you mention it, I talked the same way when Aslan came to me. I haven't the foggiest why, but Aslan didn't explain anything about that."
Firumel looked quite thoughtful, but later, when Mallory decided to find out how was it possible that he had managed to stay so absolutely still, she discovered that he was already fast asleep.
