Some way down the passage, another door was wrenched open as they passed, and a very grumpy-looking Edmund looked out, his deep brown eyes almost black in the dim light. "I'd like to remind you all that some here are trying to sleep," he snapped frowsily, "and can do without parties in the hallway at four in the morning!" Then his gaze fastened on Peter's pale face and he instantly came fully awake, straightening, his mouth compressing into a thin line.
"Brother?" he asked sharply, "Are you ill?"
Peter tried to sigh in response and insist everyone was overreacting, but the pressure in his chest had steadily increased since he came out of the fresh night breeze, and all that passed his lips was a hissing wheeze. Lucy gave a sharp little cry, and Edmund darted forward out of his bedchamber, swearing softly. He got in beside his brother and lifted Peter's left arm over his shoulder. "Do you have his medicines?" he said to Palomnus, who trotted ahead of them with the light, worry lining his usually cheerful face. "Yes, my king," the faun replied, holding aloft an ornately carved wooden box, "They are to hand."
"Good," grunted the young man, supporting the High King's tall frame as they went along. "Peter, by Aslan's mane, are you determined to make an end of yourself? Fie, my lord, for not calling us as soon as the fit came upon you! Fie and for shame!" Edmund's voice was sharp with anger, and in spite of his struggle, Peter grinned.
"Yes, mum," he said hoarsely, and behind them, Lucy laughed merrily. "Caught on your own hook halfway, eh, Edmund, dear?" she asked lightly. Edmund's reply was an incoherent growl, for he had been gleefully hoisted on that particular petard more times than he could count, and the fun did not seem likely to end any time soon.
With Palomnus leading the way and Lucy bringing up the rear, the two kings made their way down the spiraling back stairway of their royal quarters to the main floor of the castle. They crossed the grand receiving chambers, their bare feet making hardly any noise and Palomnus's hooves clitter-clattering, echoing off the slickly polished floors and around the dark expanse. Into the Great Hall they went, through a broad archway at the side, down another set of stairs, and finally into the huge palace kitchens, where wide expanses of glowing, banked coals slumbered peacefully in the great fireplaces.
"Bring him over here, Ed, if you please," Lucy said, coming around her brothers and leading them over to a pair of sturdy wooden worktables. Placing her candlestick on a roughened and pitted surface, she pulled a bench out from underneath as Edmund carefully lowered him down.
"Palomnus, would you open the room?" she asked, "The cool air might bring succor." The graying faun nodded respectfully – "I hear and obey, my queen." – and hurried to throw open the wooden double doors leading out onto the seafront. Edmund, meanwhile, took Lucy's abandoned candle and proceeded to light the hanging lanterns and the torches in their brackets on the walls, until they could see one another's faces clearly and without squinting.
The ocean breeze immediately made its presence known, and the crashing of the surf came faintly to their ears. "There, Peter," said Lucy, brushing her brother's thick hair back with soothing fingers, "Does that help?"
His heart breaking with love for them all, Peter nodded, his breathing laden with effort. Palomnus came back to the table and opened the box of medicines, taking from it a round tin and unscrewing the lid. Edmund, who had seated himself on the tabletop at Peter's left shoulder, choked at the strong herbal smell and pinched his nose. "You'd bedder nod try to hidt with that stuff smeart all over you, brother," he said stuffily, "A blinte ant deaf owl could finte you with no trouble."
"And that, my liege, is exactly the point," said the faun as he took a clean cloth from the box, dipped it into the paste, and, drawing the High King's dressing gown off, began gently applying the potent mix of herbs to the young warrior's chest. He worked in silence for a time, with the younger king and queen watching, anxiety painting their faces. Peter's breathing remained shallow, but it was no longer quite so labored, and the fear began to leave his eyes. Edmund, whose sharp gaze rarely missed much, put a calloused hand on his brother's muscular shoulder and squeezed.
"How about that cambric tea, Lu?" Peter finally asked, once he'd recovered enough to speak without pain, "If it would not trouble you overmuch."
"Of course not," Lucy said in mock indignation, "I promised it to you, did I not? At least, it was the bait to get you out of your chamber. Beware, though - I always pour too much milk."
"Into what?" a new, musical voice asked, and the four turned in surprise to see Susan coming across the kitchens to them, tall and regal in a white nightgown, a silver candlestick in her right hand. Palomnus bowed low, and Edmund jumped up, at the same time putting a firm hand on Peter's shoulder to prevent him from rising himself.
"Good morrow, sister," he said, greeting her with a light kiss on the cheek and taking the candle from her. "What wakens you at this hour?"
"What appears to be great misfortune, dear brother," she responded, her dark eyes settling on the High King, "I heard all of you in the passageway and I grew fearful. Art thou poorly?" This was directed at Peter, who grimaced at hearing the same question a third time. "I am recovering, Susan," he answered, waving a hand dismissively. "An ill dream brought on a light attack, nothing more."
"He was asking for a cup of cambric tea, Susan," Lucy said, "and you're really the best of us all in making it. Won't you, for Peter?"
Susan smiled, and even rumpled by sleep, her beauty was remarkable. "For Peter," she replied, "and for the rest of us. I believe we could all benefit from a cup, since we are all awake."
"'Tis truth, thanks entirely to that lovely herbal rub of yours, Peter," Edmund muttered, and Lucy swatted him playfully. Susan made her way to the nearest fireplace and used a cast iron hook to swing the crane over within reach. She tested the heat of the metal and then plucked a kettle from the crane and held it out towards Lucy. "Lucy, beloved, would you fill this from the Pride and Joy for me, please? Edmund, would you prepare the fire? I will pay a visit to the creamery for the milk."
Her siblings jumped into action at her words, and Peter shifted on the bench, looking slightly uncomfortable. "Might I do something to assist you, fair sister?" he asked. Susan came back to him and laid a cool, slender hand against his cheek in benediction. "No, my lord," she said, "Be at peace." With a soft rustle of fine fabric, she moved away.
"Best to do as she commands, your majesty," Palomnus said with a twinkle as he repacked the box of medicines, "Wouldn't want you having a second attack in less than an hour, now, would we?" Peter grimaced in his valet's direction and settled himself in to wait.