Chapter 9--Pierced

A/N: Hi everyone! Well, after battles with writer's block, my PC, and a few hedgehogs, here's chapter 9! I know, I know, it was quite long in the making. We all know it belongs to good old C.S. Lewis, right? Right?

OoOoOoOoOoO

Aa she marched, Peter tried to amuse himself with the shape of his visible breath in the cold, early air. He shivered and pulled his cloak tighter about his shoulders, again feeling grateful to be in Narnian clothes. His tunic was a bit massive, being sewn for a larger man, but that was all right. The wound in his shoulder stung in the chill. Tumnus had given him a canteen of wine to dull the pain, but he had yet to drink any.

Yards ahead of him, Victoria trudged through the frost-crusted grass, shoulders slumped. Peter bit his lip; that was no was for a Queen of Narnia to carry herself. Was she all right? Then he recognised the man walking alongside her, running his mouth at an incredible rate--Lord Arran. That son of forty hags is still alive? As soon as the thought was processed, Peter felt ashamed; nasty as Lord Arran might have been during his own reign, he was, nonetheless, a subject of Narnia, and deserved respect. Still...

Abruptly, Victoria halted, shoulders back, head higher. Peter heard her snap, "General Oreius! Why are we flying? We are Narnians and soldiers, not weak-livered schoolchildren." She turned on Lord Arran. "Why do you think we have declared war on Calormen, Lord Arran? So we can run like whipped dogs before the battle even begins!"

"I can run pretty well," Peter heard a Dog behind him mutter, before another Dog silenced him.

"Your Majesty, I'm only looking out for--"

"My best interests," Victoria finished, exasperated. "My lord, the important thing here is not my best interests, but Narnia's!"

A murmured agreement rippled through the now-attentive mass of soldiers. A Dwarf shouted, rather indecorously, "That's telling him, Queenie! Atta girl!" Several Dwarfs punctuated this with, "Shut yer yap, Lord Arran! Boo!" Peter smiled; he could see the Dwarfs hadn't changed since he'd been gone.

"What's your pleasure, Majesty? Run back to meet the Calormenes or wait for them?" Oreius asked, pawing at the icy dirt with one hoof.

"I've a mind to hide the cavalry behind the cliffs so they can take the Calormen infantry by surprise," Victoria replied, hands on hips.

"Is that wise, Majesty?" Oreius countered. "The Gryphons who flew ahead said that the Calormen first sent out six cavalries, five hundred horse each. They'd plow our infantry over."

"WAIT A MINUTE!" Lord Arran screamed, meaty face purple. "This is all madness!"

Victoria smiled; a placid, challenging smile that Peter knew well, for it mirrored his own. "Well, if you have a better plan, then do say so, my lord."

At the laughter of some Centaurs and the Dwarfs' derisive "Boo!", Lord Arran sputtered, flailing arms. At last his temper flared out of control. He shoved Victoria hard, and spat, "Impudent girl!"

As Tumnus broke Victoria's fall, Peter impulsively strode to Lord Arran, jerking open his canteen of wine. "You, my lord," he barked, "will give the respect due to a Queen and a Lady!"

And with that, he turned his canteen upside down and soaked Lord Arran in a sweet, reddish downpour. The already incensed nobleman shrieked as the wine came down, and the laughter of the soldiers crescendoed as he tripped and flopped to the ground. Peter stepped calmly away from him.

"Boy, do you know who I am!" Lord Arran screeched, grasping upwards for Peter's canteen.

Peter held the canteen out of Lord Arran's reach. "Yes, I do: A silly man who thinks nobody appreciates him."

Applause erupted from the soldiers, and the highly entertained Dwarfs crowed, "That's right! About time the man fell on his precious phiz! Go home, you green little girl!"

Victoria could only stare.

OoOoOoOoOoO

As he heard the rippling laughter about him, one thought dominated Lord Arran's mind: It's time this girl learned who she is.

OoOoOoOoOoO

Susan gently placed a tiny, rusty fork on the dining table.

Edmund and Lucy stared blankly at it.

"That's all I could find," Susan grunted. "Anyway, I thought it was pretty interesting."

"It isn't even shiny," Edmund snorted.

"What on earth is it for? It's too small for eating," Lucy mused, examining the fork.

"Well, here's what I found: Edmund said grandly, producing a wooden box and opening it to reveal a stunning collection of rings and necklaces.

"The Macready would kill you if she found you with that," Susan gaped.

"I found a harp," Lucy muttered, "but it was too big to carry."

"You two just don't look hard enough," Edmund shrugged. "Well, if Peter would drag his sorry self out of the library already, we couldld vote on these. Lucy, you'll have to show us where you found the harp."

Lucy put Susan's fork down. "I wonder what he's found."

"With as long as he's taking, he's probably trying to haul a whole bookshelf in here," Edmund grumbled.

OoOoOoOoOoO

Victoria pressed her index finger against a map spread out on a table. "I'll lead the first five divisions. The cavalry will ride alongside them, and we'll keep the archers and the rest of the infantry in reserve."

"Yes, Majesty," Oreius replied calmly as ever.

Rolling the map into a wooden tube, Victoria sighed and scanned the hills ahead; she knew that Calormenes were coming closer every second. Advisors and allies surrounded her, yet, she felt deserted. The courage she'd seized when she rebelled against the retreat was gone by now, and she was back to her small, incapable self.

"You are troubled, Majesty," said Oreius.

Victoria sat down in the cold grass. "This is my first battle, Oreius. What if I can't do this?"

Oreius surpised Victoria by kneeling in the grass next to her. "Even if you cannot, the Lion can."

"I know. But even in faith, I can't help feeling some fear."

Again both were silent. Finally Oreius said, "Your Majesty, may I offer you a proverb that my father gave me before his death? Fear is not weakness when you do not give into it." He paused, and stood up, his silver armour clinking gently. "Think upon that."

As Oreius lumbered away, Victoria stood back up and leaned heavily against the table. Letting her right hand fall to her side, she felt beneath her robe for her father's ring with her left hand. She twirled the icy circle between her finger and thumb.

Fear is not weakness when you do not give into it.

You are not weak, Daughter of Eve.

Victoria clenched her eyelids together to stop tears.

But I am afraid, Aslan.

I will be with you always, even to the end of time, Aslan whispered back.

And so will I, a new voice added.

Tears traced down Victoria's cheeks as she recognised the voice. Father.

The ring began to warm in her hand.

And pain streaked through the other one.

Victoria screamed as an arrowhead cut through the skin and tendons of her right hand. She didn't stop to wonder who had shot her or what the consequences were. Sobbing and hugging her hand to her chest, she fell backwards, sitting hard on the ground.

"Majesty!" she heard Oreius thunder as he galloped to her. Tumnus and Cephas trailed behind her.

Victoria held her injured hand out to them, unable to look at the arrow dangling and the blood spurting from it.

"Find the Centaur Galeblaze, quickly!" Oreius commanded a page who was standing nearby.

OoOoOoOoOoO

Oreius blinked, stepped back. "Wh-hat?"

That was the first time Victoria had even seen Oreius at a loss for words.

"It was a Narnian arrow, General," Galeblaze, the medic, repeated. "I've removed it and cleaned and numbed the Queen's wound. I'm afraid her hand is out of comission for a while." Shoulders slumped, he left Victoria's pavilion.

Victoria stared down at her bandaged right hand. "It can't be out of comission. I need it," she stated simply.

Oreius squeezed his hands into fists. "I only want to know one thing--who did this?"

"I'm sure it was an accident," Victoria spoke gently, sensing her general's anger.

"And certainly a convenient accident, my queen," Oreius mumbled.

"Oreius, I cannot believe that anyone here--"

"What if Lord Arran was behind it?" Cephas blurted out as he stumbled into the pavilion.

Victoria glared at the intruder. "Sir, do not speak without permission." She looked again at Oreius. "No matter. I'll fight anyway."