I don't own Narnia or the Pevensies. I only put them in continual danger to create cute little siblings fluff scenes.
She found out soon enough, when the first barrage of arrows came whistling out of the trees a few hours after lunch. Carrul gave a shout of warning and ducked behind a tree as others scrambled to do the same. Lucy looked frantically for the source of the attack, stumbling over a tree root but catching a glimpse of several hooded figures through the forest.
"Susan!" she cried, pointing. Her sister already had an arrow notched to her bow, as did several centaurs, and she loosed it. It whizzed through the trees, a miraculous shot that clipped several branches before finding its mark in the throat of one of the enemy archers. Retaliatory shafts came shooting back with alacrity. With a sick feeling, Lucy helplessly watched one hone in on Susan, surely about to puncture her chest, but Edmund threw himself in the way and it clanged harmlessly off his shield. Confused shouts filled the air as the arrows continued to fly back and forth until the hooded archers took off through the trees.
"After them!" Peter shouted, dashing forward. The party sprinted at his heels, eyes on the fleeing figures and pounding through the forest at a dead-out run.
In any ordinary situation the centaurs would have been much faster than the humans, but the dense foliage and close trees prevented them from running as fast as they could. Running felt incredibly taxing when you wore a shirt of heavy metal, though, and Lucy found herself gasping for breath and struggling to keep up. Susan reached back to grab her hand and pulled her along.
For a moment Lucy thought they had lost their quarry until they burst out into a clearing and one of the centaurs raced forward, eyes intent on something beyond that she could not see. A single arrow hissed out from the other end of the clearing. It glanced off the shoulder armor of the centaur and the creature continued its charge, sword raised aloft with both hands, hurtling into the trees on the other side with the rest of the party not far behind. There came a great scream from the trees and Lucy saw one of the hooded figures hewed straight through, toppling out into the clearing.
Seconds later, Peter and the rest of the centaurs were upon them. There was a brief struggle, and all but one of the figures lay dead on the forest floor. The last was swiftly bound and its hood thrown back. To Lucy's immense surprise, it was human – at least, it had all the physical characteristics of one. He was tall and willowy with black hair and cold, steel-grey eyes that he glared up at them from the mossy ground with such venom and malice that she was surprised his gaze did not cut them through. Peter knelt beside the man and looked into his face.
"Who are you?" he demanded. Both were breathing hard. "Who do you serve?"
The man spat in his face. Several of the centaurs gave angry yells and rushed forward, and Lucy herself felt a surge of righteous anger, but Peter held up his hand and stopped them. He wiped the spittle from his face and repeated,
"Who do you serve?"
"Kill me," the man growled.
"No."
The two remained there in tense silence for a moment. Finally Peter sighed and got to his feet. A few centaurs muttered in disbelief when the young king reached down and pulled the man to a standing position, cutting loose the ropes that bound his ankles.
"Lead on," he said wearily to Carrul. "And you, prisoner, don't lag behind."
He shared a glance with Edmund, who gave a little nod. They set off again through the forest, kicking aside the bodies of the archers. Lucy felt squeamish – for all the talk of how glorious and wonderful battle was, she couldn't help wondering if the other men had had families. Susan reached for her hand and squeezed it reassuringly.
After another few hours of travel with little disturbance, they were reunited with the Cappis River in a large glen. Carrul called a halt and advised Peter that it would be a good place to rest for the night. And so they began to settle down, the centaurs who had been carrying packs opening them to produce the basic necessities for a meal while the others went off to forage. The prisoner, who had remained silent and relatively cooperative, had his bonds cut and retied so that his hands were comfortably in front of him, then tied to a smooth-barked tree.
No fires were made because the smoke would have given away their position. Instead, the meal consisted of crisp centaur bread, assorted berries and nuts and various tubers that the foraging teams had found. The sun was beginning to sink beneath the horizon. When everyone had finished eating, Lucy helped her sister gather leftovers from the meal and strode to where the prisoner sat with a hate-filled expression. Susan knelt, picked a piece of bread from her skirt, tore it into a manageable portion and leaned forward to hold it before the man's mouth. He turned his head away, eyes filled with revulsion.
"Get your filthy hands away from me," he snarled. Susan, patient as ever, did not move. Lucy watched, holding her breath, as the man finally, grudgingly, almost angrily turned his head back and snatched the bread from her hands with his teeth. He chewed hungrily and swallowed. Susan tore another piece of bread and he took it again. Obviously he had not eaten in a long while. Finally there was no more to give and the two sisters moved off, leaving the prisoner to glare at their backs.
Looking up at Susan's face, Lucy found that she had not admired her sister more in a long time.
The sun was now almost gone completely and the stars were again coming out. Lying on the soft grass with the sound of the river in her ears, Lucy felt very tired and sleepy after a long day. Her siblings lay nearby, asleep or awake she didn't know. Soon she felt darkness closing in around her and surrendered to unconsciousness gratefully…
…only to be wakened, how much longer she didn't know, by a panicked yelp from Ed. Coming awake with a start, fumbling for her dagger, she could see nothing in the darkness but a hulking shape a few meters away. The prisoner's voice cut through the night harshly.
"Don't move or the boy's life is forfeit," he hissed. Lucy could feel Peter and Susan, tense beside her, and heard their quick, frightened breathing. Still she struggled to see.
There was the sound of someone dragging another person across the grass, then a muffled cry from Edmund. Lucy's eyes were just beginning to adjust to the ill light, but her hand had closed over the hilt of her dagger. Squinting, she made out two dark figures, one much larger than the other and holding a sword to the smaller one's throat, moving towards the edge of the camp. She raised her dagger, fully aware that if she missed it could mean death, then in one swift movement hurled it forward. It hissed through the air and buried itself in the prisoner's shin.
He gave an almighty scream, followed by a gasp of agony from his hostage, then toppled over onto the grass. In a matter of seconds Lucy, Susan and Peter were at their brother's side. Several centaurs had leaped forward to dispatch his attacker. Edmund was shaking uncontrollably but Lucy soon deduced that it was more from adrenaline than from injury, because he managed to gasp out,
"I'm all right. Just…"
But his siblings had already enveloped him in a huge embrace. He almost rolled his eyes, but decided against it, putting his arms around his littlest sister's shoulders.
"Thank you," he said quietly, still breathing unevenly. Susan pulled back and gave her sister a look of admiration.
"That was an amazing throw, Lu," she said. Peter had pulled her dagger from the captive's ankle and wiped it on the grass. Now he offered it back to her with a small, proud smile. She returned the gesture and accepted her weapon, gripping it tightly and trying not to think about what would have happened if she had missed.
But, she thought as she drifted to sleep again, later, she hadn't missed. And that was what mattered for the moment. At the time being, they were safe, and she could not have wished for more.
