This had been Puddleglum's idea, coming back to watch the knight. He didn't like it, but he'd done nothing when they were on top of the ruined city; he was resolved not to fail now that he was under it, as the third sign had instructed. If that meant staying in hopes of gaining information, then that was what he would do.
He resolved, too, that this time the three of them would hold each other accountable. "We've muffed everything else, you know. He'll be cunning, I shouldn't wonder, once he gets started. Can we trust one another? Do we all promise that whatever he says we don't touch those cords? Whatever he says, mind you?"
"Rather!"
"There's nothing in the world he can say or do that'll make me change my mind."
Not a moment too soon, for the knight's already-ill countenance changed for the worse. The fit had come. Puddleglum steeled himself to listen for anything useful, but without listening to whatever entreaties, threats, or oaths the knight would ply. An impossible task, I shouldn't wonder, he thought. But no less than going under the city, he remembered immediately after.
The knight's face had indeed changed… but perhaps not for the worse, as Puddleglum first thought. No less ill – moreso, if anything – but there was something…. The knight moaned about enchantment, pled for mercy, whispered something about skies in pools of upside-down trees. Puddleglum didn't claim to know what all that was about, even if he did feel a little like that himself, lost down here in the dark. We'll all grow mad as he without any enchantment, as like as not, he predicted.
Pity alone would not move him.
The knight's voice changed too. It was clear and strong, even authoritative, as any good knight's voice ought to be. He insisted on his freedom. He appealed to their honour and reason. He impressed on them the dangers of inaction. Puddleglum repeated his own words in a silent response. No fear. We've no wish to meet wild men or serpents.
"Steady, steady," is what he and his companions said aloud. No amount of apparent sense would turn them.
The knight's eyes changed. Roiling like a stormy sea and blazing like the sun on the desert. "Let me go, I say. Give me my sword." Desperate as a cornered cougar and haunted as a wounded deer. "Free me now, and I am your friend. I am your mortal enemy otherwise." Savage as a tortured mind and ardent as a faithful soul. "By the great Lion, by Aslan Himself, I charge you –"
Puddleglum froze. "It's the sign." We've muffed everything else. This is the fourth sign, and no mistake. He is the first person to –
"It's the words of the sign."
He'll be cunning. He might have known. He might have guessed. Or not he at all, but this queen? What might she know? Danger, lies, magic, and treason. Mad men who would say anything. Serpents that would say anything.
"Oh, what are we to do?"
Can we trust one another? Can we hold each other accountable? Puddleglum's eyes met theirs. Accountable, whatever he says?
"Oh, if only we knew!"
Puddleglum balled his fists. There are no accidents. That's what he had said earlier. We need to keep our eyes and ears open. He'd said that too. We've muffed everything else. "I think we do know."
Remember the signs.
They would know the lost prince by this: that he would be the first in their travels to ask in the name of Aslan….
Puddleglum stole another glance at the knight, rabid and raving. There are no accidents. Our guide is Aslan, and He knew already all things that would come, including this.
They drew blades. "In the name of Aslan." Those were their words. The words of the knight. The words of the sign. Of nothing else could he be more sure. Nothing.
Prompt: Pick up the closest book to hand. Open at random and place your finger at random on the page. That word must either begin your story or end it. (It so happened (you know, insofar as there are no accidents) that my Bible was but half a foot from me when I read the prompt, and I landed on the "nothing" in Ecclesiastes 3:14: "I know that, whatsoever God doeth, it shall be for ever: nothing can be put to it, nor any thing taken from it: and God doeth it, that men should fear before Him.")
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