Disclaimer: I do not own the Pevensies, Tumnus, the White Witch, or any other Narnian characters. Rhianna and Darkmoon are mine :)
Chapter Five: The Ambush
Rhianna felt a knot of dread drop like a rock in the pit of her stomach. The Witch's castle was not far from the Beavers' hovel and Edmund could easily be telling her about them by now. Despite the guilt that such thoughts brought, she was deeply grateful that she had not encountered him and given him her name. As for the others… she turned from buckling on her quiver and observed the rest of the hovel's occupants as they hurried to leave. She had met Mr. Beaver and his wife many years ago and she loved them dearly. Lucy – who was diligently assisting Mrs. Beaver in her packing – had already begun to win her way in the elf's heart with her charming smile and big brown eyes. Susan was still a little distant, but she was warming up quickly to Rhianna and the elf liked her already. The oldest Daughter of Eve was witty, clever, and hungry for more knowledge. Peter was different. Rhianna felt drawn to him, but at the same time, she felt wary of him, and a little awed by who he was destined to become. He would be the High King of Narnia, and the concept made Rhianna feel a little intimidated.
Suddenly, she stiffened, listening. Peter, who stood nearest to her, noticed. "What's wrong?" he asked.
Her hand shot out and clamped over his mouth, but too late; the damage had already been done. A bone-rending howl set up right outside the door and five or six large wolves started pummeling the hovel. Sod and sticks rained down on them; the structure was not going to hold for long. Rhianna whipped around, releasing Peter at the same time. "Beaver!" she hissed, keeping her voice low, "Is there another way out?"
Mrs. Beaver was already moving, sliding back the bookcase that concealed the secret exit.
Satisfied, Rhianna lunged forward, picked up Mrs. Beaver – luggage and all – and sent her sliding down the chute. "Hurry! We have no time!"
"What about the food?" Mr. Beaver said, clearly distressed, "We'll need it on the journey!"
"I'll handle it," Rhianna replied, drawing a small dagger from her boot, "Now GO!" She spun around and jammed the food from the table into a sack, tossing it to Susan, who shouldered it. The elf turned to face the front door, where the attack was the heaviest. A muzzle poked the sod, snarling viciously. Quicker than the eye could track, Rhianna lashed out with dagger, slicing the wolf's nose. Howling, he withdrew to nurse his wound, while the elf used the time to help the others get into the chute: Lucy, then Beaver, then the food. As Susan began clambering over the threshold, the wolves attacked again with renewed fury, crashing through the windows. Rhianna spun again and darted to the window, plunging her knife hilt-deep in the wolf's throat. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw that Peter had not yet left. "Go!" she yelled to him, whipping her dagger back out of the wolf's neck as he crumpled at her feet.
"What about you?" Peter yelled back. "I'm not leaving you here!" Even as he spoke, a spider web of cracks laced their way across the ceiling from a point above Rhianna's head – two wolves were at work on the ceiling, trying to cave it in. She did not notice as she engaged yet another wolf, but Peter did. He darted across the room as she killed the second wolf and grabbed her arm. "Let's go!" he said firmly.
She glared at him and shook free. "I thought I told you to leave. You're no good to Narnia dead."
His clear blue eyes flashed defiantly. "Not without you."
Exasperated, she tossed her head. They had only seconds before the next wolf came through the window. "We don't have time for this, just leave!" she cried as she pushed him away. Before she knew what was happening, a set of steel jaws launched at her through the shattered window, just as a set of strong arms wrapped around her and yanked her out of the way. At that instant, the ceiling gave way, crashing down on top of the charging wolf and burying him beneath a mound of soil, twigs, and the two wolves that had caused it. "Come on!" Peter cried, dragging her to her feet. They dodged one wolf's leap as Peter pulled her sideways into the chute with him. As they careened to the bottom of the chute, Rhianna was only aware that Peter had released her and that she was hurt – the wolf's teeth had scraped her thigh, just above her knee.
"Milady!" Mr. Beaver cried as they tumbled out, wrapping his paws around her hand and pulling insistently, "We must go!"
Rhianna rolled over, wincing as the ground-soil dug into her wound. Peter gripped her by the shoulders and pulled her to her feet. In the light from Mrs. Beaver's lantern, the blood staining her gray leggings was clearly visible. "You're hurt!" Mrs. Beaver cried.
"I'll be fine," Rhianna responded gruffly, moving to take a step, but her knees buckled and she fell to one knee. Susan was at her side in an instant, supporting her with an arm around her waist. Lucy came around Rhianna's other side and touched her arm gingerly, her eyes wide and frightened.
"Who were they?" she asked in a small voice.
"Maugrim," Rhianna spat the word out, "and the Secret Police. They came for us, at the Witch's orders." She shifted her weight a little, wincing, then gently pushed away from Susan and took a few hesitant steps down the tunnel. Stubbornly, she forced her mind to ignore the pain, as she'd done so many times before. "Come," she said quietly, "We don't have much time."
As if in answer, the snarling of wolves reached their ears and approached rapidly as they came down the chute. Beaver's eyes widened in alarm. "Run!" he cried, "follow me! This will lead us to the Badgers'"
"I thought you said this led to your mum's!" Mrs. Beaver cried reproachfully as she followed on his fleeing heels.
They ran – Susan, Peter and Rhianna in a half-crouch because of the low ceiling. The tunnel curved upward and they scrambled quickly up the slope, emerging from a stone formation into a clearing. A large barrel lay nearby and with Peter, Susan, and Mr. Beaver's help, Rhianna rolled it over the exit. Dull thuds followed shortly thereafter as the wolves struggled to break through. Rhianna smiled in satisfaction.
"Look out behind you!" Susan suddenly screamed.
Before she even had time to react, Rhianna was spun around and slammed to the ground on her back, staring into a set of very angry brown eyes. Darkmoon had borne down on the elf and thrown her to the ground and now stood, her legs on either side of Rhianna's prone form, her nose lowered so that it was touching the elf's. "You could've been killed!" the mare seethed. "'You have to let me go, sometime' you said! Not until you're taller and much, much wiser, child!" She tossed her head. "Don't ever do that to me again!"
"Look, Darkmoon, I'm sorry," Rhianna replied wearily, "We got out all right, didn't we?" She pushed the mare's nose away and slid herself into a sitting position. "I expected trouble."
"Why didn't you tell me?" Darkmoon said, backing off a little. "What's that?" she suddenly said, her eyes falling on the bloodstain on Rhianna's leg. She glowered dangerously. "You're hurt. You call that 'getting out all right'!"
Rhianna shrugged. "Better than most of our narrow escapes." Tenderly, she sat up and examined the cut, grimacing as the fresh air caused it to sting.
Darkmoon's eyes softened. "We'll need to clean that before we can continue." She swung her head to face Mrs. Beaver. "Do you have willow bark in your provisions?"
"Yes, yes, of course," Mrs. Beaver replied. She beckoned to Susan, "Come here, dear, I'll need your pack." As she rifled through the sack and Rhianna cleansed the cut with snow, Darkmoon surveyed the others in the clearing. Peter was sitting on a large rock, with Lucy snuggled under his arm. He stared nervously at the tall, black mare. Susan, who had been roused from her frozen observation of the proceedings, now sat in the snow next to Peter, leaning back against his knees.
Rhianna looked up from her wound to make introductions, "Darkmoon, this is Peter, Son of Adam, and Susan and Lucy, Daughters of Eve. Peter, Susan, Lucy, this is my trusted friend and traveling companion, Darkmoon."
"Pleased to make your acquaintance," Darkmoon said softly, lowering her nose to the snow in respect. All three siblings jumped when they heard the mare speak, causing Rhianna to smile.
Mrs. Beaver waddled over with the willow bark, which the elf gratefully accepted. She spent several minutes grinding the bark and rubbing it into her cut to help it heal faster, then tearing a strip of cloth from the hem of her shirt to make a bandage. Meanwhile, Susan and Lucy were enthralled with the beautiful Darkmoon and had, by the time Rhianna had finished dressing her wound, plucked up the courage to approach her and stroke her velvety muzzle and run their fingers through her mane. Stiffly, Rhianna got to her feet and joined them, rubbing Darkmoon's corded neck muscles. Meeting Susan and Lucy's eyes, she smiled. "Would you like to ride her?"
"Oh, yes!" Lucy cried, her eyes lighting up, "I would love to!"
Rhianna nodded and boosted her up, taking care to avoid straining her wounded leg, then helped Susan get up behind Lucy.
Peter picked up one of the sacks as Mr. and Mrs. Beaver gathered up theirs. "We should keep moving," Mr. Beaver said. "Maugrim will be back. And with the Witch, most likely."