Chapter Two
Secrets
Lucy came to rest under the shade of a large oak tree. It was nearing noon and she was all sweaty after picking fruit and corn and threshing the whole morning. She was glad for a chance to cool off. Susan joined her, looking equally tired though there appeared to be some worried lines between her brows. The older queen turned to a nearby griffin that just alighted bearing a basket filled with flasks of cool water. Lucy grabbed one of the flasks and took a long drink. Susan however, paid no attention to the drinks but questioned the griffin instead.
"Is there any word from Galma? Has Edmund written when he will return?"
"No, your majesty," replied their messenger. "We haven't received any word at all."
The worried strain appeared even more evident in Susan's face.
"Su, I'm sure there's nothing to worry about," comforted Lucy.
"I hope so. It's just that I feel something's not right. Edmund never misses a Ceresian festival. It's just unusual that he would voluntarily stay abroad to miss it. It's already the fourth day of the harvest."
"Well he said in his letter there's nothing wrong," said Lucy. "He probably got caught up in an extended jousting tournament. That happens sometimes."
Susan breathed a sigh. "I don't know. It's just so odd."
"What's odd?" asked Peter who came to join them. His head and tunic were still full of corn hair. Lucy reached out to clear it away.
"Edmund," replied Susan. "And what's with the wine? Why have more than half the wine supply of Narnia shipped to Galma when he knows very well we have a festival here and—"
Susan abruptly stopped and met Peter's gaze nervously.
"And what?" asked Lucy.
"And nothing," replied Peter quickly. "It just that three hundred barrels of wine is a bit… extravagant… you know as a… gift…for the… Galman court."
"Did he say it was gift?" asked Lucy. "I don't think he mentioned anything in his letter about it being a gift. I think he's going to use it for trade. I think it's a brilliant idea. We produce so much wine, I don't think the whole of Narnia can consume half of it. Our household certainly doesn't. I bet Edmund's found an opportunity to negotiate a wine export treaty. That's probably why he stayed away this long."
"Yes… that's probably it," said Susan and Lucy noticed her siblings were still giving each other furtive looks. Lucy could sense she was missing something here. "Is there anything you know that I don't?" she asked directly.
"About Edmund?" said Peter. "No. We haven't a clue except from what we got in his letter." Lucy eyed her brother carefully and her instincts told her that at least that last statement didn't contain a lie. But she could feel there was something else that her older siblings had been keeping from her. She'll let it go for now, but eventually she'll find out. None of her siblings' secrets were ever kept secret for long from her.
"But what I'm quite puzzled at," said Lucy, "are the fauns and the nymphs and the satyrs. I haven't seen more than five of them join the festivities this year. They all seemed to have joined Edmund abroad and you know how they hate to travel across the sea."
Peter and Susan didn't say anything and Lucy continued. "Come to think of it, I haven't even seen any of them dancing off into the woods after dusk. It's just so irregular."
After sunset during the Ceresian festival, Lucy, her siblings and most of the talking beasts retired back to their homes to rest. The Ceresian festival tended to be exhausting as everyone, even the four royals participated in the work of harvesting the year's produce before they had their afternoon dance and feasting. However, the fauns, satyrs and nymphs would continue on their dancing further into the dark areas of the woods until the wee hours of the morning. Lucy had often asked Mr. Tumnus, who joined in these nightly rituals, what exactly happened during these nightly dances. Mr. Tumnus always replied that it was just more dancing and nothing that could possibly interest the four of them. Lucy never tried finding out, though Edmund, Peter and Susan admitted going to one after Lucy caught them sneaking into the palace one morning. When she interrogated them on it, they echoed Mr. Tumnus' reasons and said they just ended up being bored all night. Her older siblings never went there again and Lucy was just content with the explanation.
Susan sighed again. "I just wish I know what's going on. I'd go to Galma myself if I could. It's just six hours by ship, but I can't leave here with all the festivities going on."
Lucy hugged her sister. That was just typical of Susan, always the worrying mother, and she seemed to double her worry over Edmund ever since the incident with the White Witch.
"What if I go?" volunteered Lucy. "I can, this afternoon, after lunch. I can get a ship ready and a small crew, it would be no trouble."
Susan's face lit up. "Oh would you?"
"Of course I will," said Lucy. "I'll check on Edmund for you. I'm sure he's alright, but if you want to be sure…"
"Oh thank you!" cried Susan as she hugged her sister back.
"Do you want me to go to?" asked Peter.
"Oh no," said Lucy. "Stay here and enjoy the festival. I don't mind missing out. It's just three more days. Besides, I'm quite curious as to why Edmund hasn't come home yet. I might be able to drag him back before the festival ends."
"Maybe he found a sweetheart," suggested Peter.
Lucy and Susan rolled their eyes at him. That wasn't likely to happen. Edmund was the pickiest with regards to potential marriage partners among the four of them. He was always the best judge of character. Lucy had been to Galma before and she had met Countess Penthea, the only eligible noble lady in Galma. It didn't take a genius to know that she was in no way near Edmund's taste. And besides, Lucy suspected that Edmund had been conducting an affair with a nymph for years, though he was extremely discreet about it. Every week, whenever he was at home in Narnia, he would take a ride out alone with Philip into the edge of the Western Woods in Lantern Waste. No one ever questioned him and he revealed nothing. Everyone else was content to let it be.
Lucy could understand Edmund's discomfort on the matter. Though it wasn't taboo in Narnia for creatures of different species to fall in love, everyone expected the four royals to marry humans.
"Or maybe a sweetheart found him," said Lucy, thinking of her brother's mysterious lover, hoping somehow they could be happy even with the circumstances.
It was dusk when Lucy's small ship, the Siren Stealth approached the port of Galma. Lucy always preferred the Splendour Hyaline, though the Siren was her second favorite among Narnia's fleet of ships. She can maneuver easily on shallower waters better than the Hyaline, and was ideal for short distance traveling, such as going to Galma, the closest island nation to Cair Paravel.
The Siren docked next to the Hyaline and Lucy was soon standing on dry land.
"Everything seems so quiet," Lucy observed as she walked on the sand followed by her Narnian crew: Mr. Beaver, a tiger, two centaurs, three dogs and a griffin. The whole stretch of the beach was empty except for a few gulls out hunting, but they were all dumb beasts.
"Where are all the fishermen?" asked Mr. Beaver. "Normally, the fishermen would be coming down to the beach after a day's work by now."
"Do you get the feeling that something strange is going on here?" asked one of the centaurs. The other creatures nodded.
Lucy had that feeling too. But some instinct told her it was in no way dangerous. They walked on past empty fields, encountering not a single soul.
Finally they sighted the towers of Galma's castle. By then, the sun had completely set and it was already dark. The castle was well-lighted as expected and as they neared the entrance to the vast courtyard surrounding the castle, Lucy caught the sound of music.
"Sounds like a party," observed Mr. Beaver as they all hurried forward. They could see shadows of several people, both magical creatures and humans moving rapidly in some frenzied dance in the courtyard or even among the windows of the castle walls. They were all accompanied by the sound of cymbals and pipes and the prominent beat of what Lucy knew was an instrument called a dithyramb. Lucy had only heard it played once before by Mr. Tumnus. But his mild playing then was nothing compared to what she was hearing now. This one was faster, wilder. The rhythm somehow made her feel like she wanted to skip about and dance. Several groups of singers appear to be singing different tunes all at the same time, yet somehow their songs harmonized together.
Not a single Galman guard tried to inquire about their intentions when Lucy and her company entered the gate leading to the royal courtyard. What they saw within was enough explanation: probably the whole of Galma's population had gathered here, and it appeared to Lucy that all of them were too busy with a variety of things.
In one area, barefooted peasant men and women had linked arms with satyrs and were dancing in a circle. In another, a group of fauns were teaching children to play musical instruments. At one end of the courtyard, a young man in rich looking trousers but without a shirt was lying on a large couch surrounded by scantily-clad servant girls and nymphs, feeding him grapes. In between all these, an assortment of fauns, nymphs, young men and women and about two or three talking beasts were playing some wild game of tag, only everyone seemed to be "It." Occasionally, when a faun or a young man caught a girl or a nymph, he wouldn't let go but instead kiss her until she—in a fit of giggles—agreed to be dragged away to some shadowy corner. Everyone was wearing garlands of flowers and leaves in their hair or around their necks. All around were tables filled with fruit, bread, sweet meats and cheeses that anyone could just pick up at one's leisure. And then there was the wine. Barrels and barrels had been set at every corner for anyone to go to, to fill their cups.
"What is this?" asked a confused Lucy to no one in particular. "Is this some kind of Galman festival?"
"Actually, it's Narnian," Mr. Beaver blurted. Lucy turned to look at him and he shrank back fearfully at her as if he just let something that he shouldn't, slip. Lucy eyed the rest of her companions. None of them were looking surprised at the sight before them. It was as if, they were used to seeing such things. Lucy was even more puzzled.
"What do you mean it's Narnian?" Her question was directed to all of her Narnian escorts although all of them were suddenly looking at either the sky, the ground, or every other direction but hers.
Lucy folded her arms across her chest and eyed them all crossly. That familiar feeling of being left out at something was back. "I demand an answer! What do you mean it's Narnian? We don't have a festival like this!"
Her escorts all looked at each other nervously. Finally one of the centaurs confessed. "Actually, your majesty… we do. It's just that your highness… didn't know."
Lucy's mouth hung open. How could she live for the last twelve years in Narnia and not know about this?
"You mean this is part of the Ceresian festival?" she asked.
"No," explained Mr. Beaver. "But it coincides. It's celebrated after dusk until dawn. It's called a Bacchanalia. It's a thanksgiving celebration led by Bacchus, the god of wine, also of harvest—the grape harvest in particular. It's usually just the fauns, the nymphs and the satyrs who attend although it is open to all. It's just that most of us magical beasts find it a bit too rowdy so we don't attend."
The shirtless young man noticed Lucy and her party. He rose from his couch and lifted a goblet to her.
"Ah visitors!" he slurred. "Would you care—would you care to join us? More wine!" He slurped at his cup then fell back onto his couch while his servant girls fawned over him and refilled his goblet.
Lucy stared at him for a moment before she had to move away quickly as a large group of dancing fauns, wild men and women began taking over the spot Lucy was standing on. Lucy could see they were all quite tipsy. In fact, she noticed, no one in the courtyard apart from herself and her Narnian escorts were sober.
"So they all get drunk?" Lucy asked in annoyance. "That's how they celebrate it?"
"Well, your majesty it is part of the celebration," explained the griffin in a very soft voice. "What's a grape festival without the wine?"
"You all knew about this? You knew this festival existed?"
"Your highness," whimpered one of the dogs politely. "Everyone knows about the festival."
"I didn't!" Lucy complained. "And Peter, Susan and Edmund, they didn't—"
And she suddenly remembered that they did. Lucy suddenly felt insulted that the entire kingdom had kept this a secret from her!
"Don't be mad, dear," said Mr. Beaver. "Tumnus and your brothers didn't think it was appropriate for you to join. They told everyone not to tell you. They didn't want Susan to know either, but she found out."
"And she never told me!" cried Lucy bitterly. "Why not?"
Mr. Beaver shook his head. "I don't know. Edmund said they had their reasons."
"And he's going to give them to me tonight when I find him!" gritted Lucy angrily. "So this is why he didn't come home! He decided to attend the Bacchanalia in Galma!"
"Well… that is quite strange," said one of the centaurs. "The Galmans don't really celebrate the Bacchanalia. They're a priggish lot and they find the Bacchanalia a bit too wild for their taste. It's rather surprising that they would hold the festival now."
Lucy huffed irately. "Three guesses, my dear brother started it here. That would explain why he ordered all that wine!" It was beginning to make sense to her now. This festival explained why Narnia never had any wine surplus at the end of the year. "Split up and find my brother," she ordered. "He has some explaining to do."
Her Narnian escorts didn't need another word although all of them looked quite terrified. It was rare that they ever see their young queen angry, and when she did, everyone took her seriously.
After several minutes of looking Lucy met her party near the gate and compared notes. No one had seen Edmund in the courtyard and they couldn't find anyone sober enough to give directions. Lucy ordered them to split again. She sent half to check the stables and the vast gardens. The other half accompanied her inside the castle.
"Now this is irresponsible," muttered Lucy when she and Mr. Beaver and two dogs went through the castle doors and entered the large empty hallway unrestrained. "Anyone could attack the country and take over it and nobody would even stop them."
Mr. Beaver just shrugged then suddenly made a motion for them to be quiet. Lucy could hear loud voices from behind the closed door at the end of the hall. Lucy figured the door led to the throne room.
"Pentheus, this is madness! It has got to stop!" an elderly male voice shouted.
"We can't! It's part of their sacred tradition. We have to honour it and hold the festivities or else it might send a bad sign to King Edmund! Then he won't marry Penthea."
There was the sound of glass breaking. "Damn that Edmund to throw my words back into my face! He got us! He got us alright! He knows if we refused to hold this—this uncivilized ritual of his country he could claim we don't respect his traditions!"
"Then there's nothing we can do Lycurgus but bear it. It will be over soon. Just three more days."
There was another sound of glass shattering on the floor. "I can't take three more days of this, brother! Apart from the scandalous way he's carrying on, he is disrupting the entire kingdom's workforce. It's all well for him to be feasting all day and providing the wine. But we can't afford to feed all these creatures he brought in as well as our own people with sumptuous food for an entire week when nobody's producing anything! And what happens after the seventh day? Tell me? The peasants are not going to be back to the farms and the seas to work immediately. Oh no! They will all be lying on their beds because they have spent the entire week drinking and none of them could stand! Just look around you. All the servants are gone! Nobody's attending to anything! If Calormen wants to attack us, we might as well hang ourselves because even the palace guards are too drunk to fight back!"
"But think about it brother. The power we will get with such an alliance from Narnia when King Edmund marries Penthea."
"If he marries Penthea!" the man called Lycurgus thundered. "He didn't exactly say so. He said he wants to 'get to know her better as she gets to know him.' Those were his exact words. And now we know him. He's a drunk who cares about nothing but his wine. He merely rides on the glory of his brother's conquests!"
Lucy clenched her fist at this insult. That wasn't like Edmund at all. Why would anyone think that?
"But what about my daughter's honour?" cried the man called Pentheus.
"You think marrying her to him would save her honour? Brother, King Edmund has spent the last four days drunk in the garden in the arms of those wild tree-women of sorts, such behaviour doesn't merit that he will be faithful to Penthea even if he married her."
Lucy was beginning to understand. Oh Edmund, what have you gotten yourself into? But at the same time she felt a swell of pride that her brother appeared to be more than capable of getting himself out of his own mess.
"Besides, I won't have it, Pentheus! This barbaric feast is setting a bad example on everyone! He's already infected my son! He's out there drunk with the rest of them!"
There was a long moment of silence before Lycurgus' voice continued: "I will voluntarily submit as a vassal to Narnia because our country needs protection. I will readily pay the tribute, but I refuse to have anything more to do with that Edmund or his family! I refuse to let Penthea marry him. I won't even let my son marry that Narnian Queen he's been courting for months. I could just imagine what kind of woman she is if that's the kind of brother she has!"
"We must withdraw then," said Pentheus in a defeated tone that Lucy was almost sorry for him.
"I'll speak to him in the morning," said Lycurgus. "I hope he'll be sober enough then. It's no use tonight. I'll tell him he doesn't need to marry Penthea. I just want him to leave and take his whole horde of beasts with him."
Lucy nodded to their companions that they should go now. They had heard enough. They tiptoed quietly out of the castle and proceeded to the gardens to search for Edmund.
The gardens were large and had a great assortment of shrubs and trees. Lucy thought it was rather lovely and was half distracted from her errand by staring at the well-tended flower beds she passed by. Still, she thought, natural was best and this garden for all its beautiful landscape still cannot compete with Narnia's wild woods.
Lucy heard a familiar laugh from behind a bush and rushed on to it without thinking.
"Mr. Tumnus! Have you seen Ed—"
She stopped and stared in horror as she realized she just interrupted a rather private moment between her very drunk oldest Narnian friend and a doe-eyed nymph that she remembered had often waited on her at breakfast in Cair Paravel. Lucy quickly backed away and covered her eyes with her hands. But in the next moment, she wished she covered her ears instead. Mr. Tumnus and the nymph appeared to be oblivious to her presence and their sighs and giggles invaded Lucy's hearing, tormenting her further until she was forced to run away from them as fast as she could.
"Now can you still blame Tumnus and your brothers for not telling you?" asked Mr. Beaver, who followed behind her heels.
"Believe me, Mr. Beaver," replied Lucy as she shook her head, willing the image to leave her scarred mind. "I completely understand their reasons now and I forgive them, wholeheartedly. Please, let's just find Edmund and go back to the ship."
"Er… Lucy dear… you did remember the King of Galma describe what Edmund's been doing these last few days. Are you sure you want to find him at all?"
Lucy blushed. "Well, I still want to talk to him. But could you…"
"I'll go ahead and give him prior warning you're coming," replied Mr. Beaver.
They didn't have to look long. Mr. Beaver found Edmund at a gazebo at one end of the garden. He was wearing nothing but a faun skin and he had garlands of flowers in his hair like everyone else. But to Lucy's relief, he appeared to be relatively decent though he wasn't alone. There was a lovely nymph beside him, singing a wonderful tune.
"Lucy, what are you doing here?" Edmund asked. He sounded perfectly sober and perfectly alarmed.
"I came to check on you. We were worried when you didn't come home."
"I can explain," he said, blushing guiltily. He nodded to the nymph beside him. "This is Semele, by the way."
Lucy offered her a generous smile, knowing this was her brother's mystery love. "Pleased to meet you." The nymph greeted her back gaily without a sign of embarrassment as nymphs never do. Lucy often thought they were strange but wonderful creatures. They had no pretenses and no selfishness but were always honest about their feelings and gestures. They were free to love, to live and to be happy without unattainable desires that humans had. Lucy realized why Edmund would prefer her to a human companion. With her, he was free to be open without appearing weak for she would accept him no matter what. She took him as he was, not for his crown, not for his skill in battle or his physical traits.
Lucy turned her attention to her brother and gave him a reassuring smile. "It's alright, I understand." And she told him what she had overheard between the King and Duke of Galma. Edmund looked immensely relieved then related how Penthea had set him up to entrap him into a marriage and how he planned to get the King to crack and withdraw the proposal by annoying him with the Bacchanalia.
"I actually wrote to Bacchus and got him to agree to hold the Bacchanalia here," explained Edmund. "Without him of course, or Silenus and the Maenads," he added. "You can tell Mummy Susan that. I know she'll be worried that I'm not responsible if she hears about this."
"Oh I'm sure she'll won't mind too much if she knew why you had to do it," replied Lucy. She wanted to reassure her brother she wasn't a tattle tale. "And what are Maenads?" asked Lucy.
"Bacchus' female companions," answered Mr. Beaver. "They're a bit mad."
Edmund nodded. "You don't want the Maenads here, believe me. I don't want anyone from Galma getting killed when those Maenads do something unexpected. And I just sent for our regular wine. Not the ones Bacchus lets flow every festival. Those could really turn you crazy if you have too much. The real Bacchanalia at home can be a bit wild and I don't want to risk it getting out of hand. I only want to upset Lycurgus a little."
"How did you get Bacchus to agree to let the nymphs and fauns to come here during his festival?" asked Mr. Beaver. "I didn't think even the kings of Narnia had authority over beings like him."
Edmund smiled at them wistfully. "Oh he owes me a favor and he's a good enough chap to let me lead the festival this year."
Lucy felt that familiar hint that there was a big secret tied up here somewhere but decided to probe this later. In the meantime, she had another more pressing question about his behavior.
"So you're not really drunk?" asked Lucy.
Edmund rolled his eyes and snorted. "No. I'm not that stupid, Lu. I sip occasionally just for show. Besides, I'm not Peter. I know how to hold my drink."
"Since when was Peter ever drunk? He never was."
Edmund said nothing and avoided her gaze and Lucy caught on.
"Ed," she rounded him. "What exactly happened during the Bacchanalia that you went to years ago with Susan and Peter?"
Edmund looked fearfully for a moment as if Lucy had just discovered a terrible secret. But he shook his head and said firmly but with a shudder: "Don't ever ask that again Lucy. Just believe me when I say, you don't want to know."
Lucy was about to retort that it was unfair for him to be keeping secrets from her when the image of Mr. Tumnus being very comfortable with a nymph flashed back into her mind. Lucy held her tongue. She decided there were some secrets she preferred to remain so.
End
A/N: Sorry for the long wait, life caught up with me, I couldn't have time to edit. But yes, it's Bacchus also known as Dionysus/Dionysos. All you guys who reviewed got it right so give yourself warm pats on the back!
In the Birth of Tragedy by Friedrich Nietzsche, the German philosopher made a contrast between Apollo and Bacchus. Apollo represents civilized behavior, reason, and form. Bacchus, on the other hand, represents the unrestrained life. They counterbalance each other. The former keeps one in line, the latter promotes inspiration translated into drama—the foremost activity in the modern Bacchanalian festivals. Kudos to fledge for knowing that.
The Bacchanalia shares its festival at the same time as the Harvest Festival in honor of Ceres, and in later years, they were worshipped together.
Some of the names of the characters I used here figure significantly in the story of Bacchus. Pentheus and Lycurgus were men who defied him and were punished for it. Semele was the name of Bacchus' human mother (I was trying to find the name of a nymph, but I couldn't find one except Daphne, but she's associated with Apollo not with Bacchus. I could have named Edmund's nymph love Ariadne who in literature was Bacchus' love, but the name Semele sounded so good for a nymph so I used it instead).
Bacchus appears in the LWW and Caspian to represent the freedom of the creatures of Narnia.
To Cass P. and Fae Elric, I also thought about Susan as similar to Artemis/Diana but I did like the concept of Susan as a mother and I wanted her to have links with Bacchus, thus I chose Ceres. But I think you're right, she can be both representative of Ceres and Diana.
And finally, I know what you're all going to ask: What happened to Edmund, Susan and Peter during the Bacchanalia they attended? Yes, you'll find out when I write that story, but you have to be patient with me, the plot is still muddled in my head and I haven't gotten around to writing it down. Just a warning: Are you sure you really want to find out? It's bound to be disturbing. I'm actually half-afraid to write it.
