"Where are we going?" asked Peter. Scott was leading him through a vast maze of tents and forges.
"To the master-of-arms, the dwarf Alfrigg. You have a sword to cut down your enemies and a strong shield to protect you, but, come on! Is your hand so fast that you can dodge or parry every blow that comes your way? No, milord, Alfrigg will forge you armor so fine that the sun will hide in shame. Not really, because it would suck to fight in the dark against dwarves."
Peter looked up. "Wait, you said that the master-of-arms is a dwarf, yet we're fighting against dwarves? How is that?"
Scott groaned. "You're a clever guy, but not very wise. Look, what race are you? Human, right? Well what race is Hitler? He's also human. But look at what he's doing. He's cutting down tens of thousands of innocents. You're both human, but not both of you are evil."
"Oh, I'd never thought that way," admitted Peter. "I guess I've got a lot to learn."
"Yes you do," laughed the ranger. "Among those things is the art of war. You can't win Narnia if you can't even kill a wolf to protect your sisters." Before Peter could respond, Scott pressed on. "Yeah, I know about that. I control the little spiders in the woods. They tell me everything they see which is, well, everything. That aside, let's see Alfrigg about your armor. Tonight's mead says he'll have it done with enough time for at least two hours of training."
A few hours later, Peter had given his word to the kitchen staff that Scott was to receive his share of mead for the night. For as his guard had predicted, the dwarf and his brothers had a splendid suit of armor completed with three and a half hours before the supper bells rang.
Scott led Peter to the training grounds. He helped his lord into a suit of chainmail then helped secure the armor plating over it. Setting the ornate helm on his head, Scott said, "Now, milord, you wanted to know my fighting style. Well you saw my horse and you see my armor. You can guess that I excel in speed, not power or defense. I shoot as I advance, riding with only my knees. Actually, since I'm a ranger, I usually ambush rather than fight in the open. So, I shoot from cover until I'm found. As they close, I draw both blades." He unsheathed both and held one out to Peter. "Northern steel, the lightest and most durable metal known to this land. If there are a lot of Jadis' pigs, I dismount and tell the horse to escape. Otherwise, I fight mounted. I can't really put my bladework into words." Taking his sword back and facing Peter, he added, "So, you'll just have to see for yourself. Raise your shield, Peter Pevensie!"
The ranger launched himself at Peter, who barely had enough time to draw his sword. He clumsily parried the attack, the shock of the blow traveling down his arm. Peter was instantly forced onto the defensive, watching Scott dance around him, landing blow after blow. After a few, short minutes, Peter found himself disarmed with a blade at his throat. "Match. I win," whispered Scott. Sheathing his weapons, Scott added, "Don't worry, milord. Jadis has no soldiers as fast as us. They are my polar opposites. Slow, powerful, and stupid. We are most different in the final respect."
Peter, visibly shaken, replied, "Wow, I'm glad you're on our side."
Scott grinned, "I know. What just happened was to answer your question and let you get a feel for your armor. Tomorrow, we'll work with swords. For now, practice your horsemanship; you'll need it. I'm going to find your sisters and make sure they're all right." He started to walk off.
Peter called after him. "Hey, Scott! Remember you promised not to flirt with Susan anymore."
Scott turned his head but kept walking. "I said I wouldn't make any 'flirtatious advances.' I never said anything about romantic ones."
"Oh god, do you truly think you can get her to love you?"
Scott flashed Peter a cocky half-smile. "I know I can. Well, at least she'll think it's love. Buried deep inside the cold, logical Susan is a teenage girl longing to lie in the strong arms of a dark, handsome stranger. It's just a matter of how to unlock those primal urges. Who knows, maybe I'll even develop an emotional attachment to her. She certainly seems like the kind of girl I could bond with. Until supper, my mead-less lord."
Scott found Susan and Lucy at the archery range. Lucy was throwing her small dagger at the targets, while her older sister shot with her shortbow. "Good evening, ladies. How've you been so far today?" Susan glared at Scott upon hearing his voice, while Lucy muttered about going to find Peter before leaving. Scott approached Susan, kneeling before her. "Milady, I truly meant nothing by my earlier comments. I have often gotten in trouble for flirting with ladies such as yourself. However, my last words bore no invitation or flirtatious intentions. You are to be my queen, and I will be nothing but your soldier. I therefore have no right to pursue you. I ask for your forgiveness."
Susan's look softened a bit, and she helped the ranger to his feet. "I forgive you, Scott. Just try not to do anything rash in the future."
Scott smiled gratefully. "Thank you, milady." Gesturing to the target, he said, "I see you're an archer too. Do you want any help practicing, milady? For as you recall, Aslan ordered me to protect and train you."
Susan hesitated, then nodded. "It would be helpful. As you can undoubtedly see, my accuracy is not to be compared to elite bowmen."
Scott laughed. "Well, milady, that is a problem. You are to be queen and, therefore, can be nothing less than elite. Come on, I'll help you. Let me see your bow." She handed him her slim, white bow. Turning it over in his hands, he commented, "This is a beautiful weapon to be sure. It is a shortbow, useful at short to medium distances. It has a lot of power at that range, but don't expect to hit a long range. To do that, you need one of these." He pulled out his longbow, which was more than half his height. "But I think this bow suits you. Now you need to suit yourself to the bow." Returning the bow to her, he said, "Let me see you shoot."
Susan drew an arrow from her quiver, and notched it. As she pulled back, her elbow went down and her eyes squinted. She released after a few moments, and the arrow lodged in the target well right of the bulls-eye. "Like I said, I have a lot of work to do."
Scott shook his head. "Actually, milady, I'm impressed. Almost all soldiers fail to shoot that accurately with only a day of experience. You just have a few technique issues to work out. First of all, keep both of your eyes fully open. You can see better that way." She shot again with her eyes open, her arrow closer to the center. "Now," he said approaching her, "one more thing." He put his arms around her and her pulse began to race. "Keep your elbow level." He drew her arm back, keeping it flat. The arrow flew through the air and pierced the center of the target. "Now try on your own." Susan pulled her arm back, but she couldn't keep her elbow down, or rather she wouldn't. She didn't know why, but he wanted the ranger to hold her once more. She had hit the guy just a few hours ago, but now she wanted him to be close to her. As she expected, Scott came over and once again helped her shoot. "Work on leveling your arm. Otherwise, perfect form." He started to walk away.
She watched his form retreat before calling his name. "Scott!" He turned to face her.
"Milady?"
She was breathing rapidly, like one who was thrilled about a recent pleasurable experience. "Will…will you come practice with me again tomorrow?"
He grinned. "Remember, milady, you don't ask your guard to do anything. You command him. It will be as you will, milady." Susan smiled, loving the sound of the way he said 'milady.' She suddenly shook her head. It was like Scott had said. The two could never have a relationship, even if he did like her back. Peter was determined to stay and free Narnia and Susan would have to stay along for the ride. She would then become queen and sociably be out of reach for Scott. She would marry some noble from a distant land and never see Scott again unless she appointed him as member of her guard. She had to stop thinking of him as more than her temporary bodyguard. He may be handsome, but that was all he could ever be to her.
Later that night, Scott noticed Susan returning to her tent after eating her evening meal. He ran over to her. "Milady, I heard about your scare at the river. Please forgive me."
Susan was confused. "Forgive you? What wrong have you done? What did you do to require my forgiveness?"
Scott bowed his head in regret. "I was unable to protect you at the river. I left you, your sister, and your brother all alone. I even delayed the reinforcements."
"What? Why would you do that?"
Scott shrugged. "I through it would be a good idea to let one of the attackers go so that he could be tailed. He would head straight for Jadis' camp. We could follow him and rescue Edmund. However, the time I took to explain my plan almost made Edmund's rescue almost came at the price of your life. Please, forgive me."
Susan took his head and lifted it. "There is nothing to forgive. You acted in my family's best interests. You did all you could, considering you weren't there to directly protect us. In fact, you not being there allowed Peter to be knighted."
"I've heard about that. Sir Peter Wolfsbane. Now, I have yet another knight to deal with." He groaned.
"What is the problem with knights?" asked Susan
"Simple," responded Scott. "Knights take vows of loyalty to the realm and the king. They swear that if the need arises, they will lay down their life for either. However, dead men help neither the king nor the realm. They're too loyal and honorable to run, save themselves, and fight another day." Scott cracked a small grin. "However, some knights aren't that bad. Your brother seems like a guy that I can handle."
Susan grinned, the first time Scott had seen her do so. "I'm glad to hear that. Do not forget archery practice tomorrow. It would pain me to miss my target and hit you because you weren't there to improve my accuracy."
"Would it pain you to shoot me, or pain you to not have done so sooner?"
Susan laughed. It was a gentle, easy laugh, not high or irritating like several girls Scott had the misfortune to know. "Well, the answer to that question depends on how you treat me over these next few days."
"I will not be late, milady. I'll meet you in the afternoon, for I'll train Peter in the morning. We're going to work with his blade and footwork. I'll have him do more horse drills while I work with you. In the morning, you can shoot without me if you want. Good night, milady."
With that, he walked off to check up on his rangers, a semi-social habit that allowed his men to know him as 'Scott' rather than 'Sir' or 'General.'
Susan watched him go, then turned and headed for the tent that she shared with Lucy. She entered to find her sister already there and waiting for her. "Susan, where were you?" asked Lucy.
"I was talking to Scott about this afternoon. He wanted to apologize for not being there when those wolves attacked us."
Lucy nodded. "You like him, don't you?"
Taken aback, Susan recoiled. "What? Don't be ridiculous, Lucy. We've only known each other for one day, although it has been a very long day at that. Regardless, I don't like him more than I would any soldier assigned as our bodyguard. He is our protector, nothing more."
"Hmm…I still think you like him. You just don't know it yet. Good night, Susan." With that, both sisters lay down to be quickly claimed by sleep.
Scott was talking to one of his men, a leopard, when General Oreius, the imposing centaur that rode at Aslan's side, came up to him. "General Castillo, we've recovered the fourth Son of Adam. He is being reviewed by the physicians to heal any injuries inflicted by the White Witch. He will see Aslan in the morning. For now, a small group of the Witch's troops, mostly dwarves, is coming this way. We didn't have time to turn and fight, so you must take a few rangers and dispose of them."
Scott nodded. "I'll take care of them. Just remember one thing, Oreius. You do not order the Forest Ranger to do anything unless you are Aslan or one of the heirs to Caer Paravel. Remember that, General Oreius." The centaur narrowed his eyes a bit, but Scott laughed. "Kidding, Oreius. I'll take care of the dwarves. With that, Scott selected eight satyrs, an eagle, and Notus, the younger brother of General Oreius, to come with him. Scott left his mustang and donned his hood, leading his men out of the camp and into the woods.
He spread his rangers out through the woods. "Jadis' men are stupid. They'll take the main road," whispered Scott. He sent Notus, armed with a longbow and a two-handed greatsword, far into the woods and ordered him not to move unless he was discovered. He had the eagle perch in a tree to await his signal. The satyrs, equipped with shortbows and shortswords, were spread out in the brush. Scott joined them. After a while, the clanking of armor was heard in the distance. Fifteen dwarves led by a wolf charged up the path. As they closed, Scott signaled the eagle, who swooped down, connecting solidly with the rear dwarf. The soldier didn't have time to cry out, but the thump of his body on the ground alerted his comrades. As they turned, every ranger started firing their bows. Most of the dwarves were taken down in the first barrage, but a few were left standing. One of the dwarves took out a wickedly powerful shortbow and fired randomly into the bushes. A satyr caught the arrow low in the gut and went down.
At this, Scott dropped his longbow, drew his blades, and decapitated the archer in one fluid motion. A satyr's arrow stuck the last dwarf, leaving only the wolf. "Hello, Fenris," said Scott congenially. He let his hood drop, showing his face. "It's been a while. My, you've gotten fat."
Fenris growled. "Shut up, Forest Ranger. You got the better of me last time, but now, it's your turn to fall." At this, the wolf leaped at Scott, who used the flat of one of his blades to beat him down. "Don't toy with me, human. Just fight." Another charge, another beating. "Fight, you coward!"
Scott shook his head, grinning. "And kill an old friend? No way!" The process continued several times.
A stern voice behind him said, "If you won't do it, sir, I will. I suggest you move, sir." At those words, Scott sidestepped, dodging another of Fenris' attacks. A meaty thwack came from behind him. Notus had brought down the wolf with a single blow from his greatsword. Turning to his general, Notus muttered, "Forgive me for disobeying orders, sir."
Facing the centaur, Scott muttered, "Don't worry about it. I would have finished him, but you were right. I was taking too long." Glancing to the wounded satyr, he asked Notus, "Can you take him back?"
The centaur nodded. "Yes, sir."
Scott led his rangers back to camp, and after taking the satyr to the healers, he retreated to his own, small tent. 'God, I've got to train Peter and Susan tomorrow. No doubt Edmund will need training as well. I'm going to be soooooo tired in the morning.' With that thought, Scott collapsed onto his pallet and allowed sleep to claim him.
