Autor's note: I don't know them name of the song I used here, nor the writer, nor the year it was written. It's just something I learned from my sister as a child and it suited the story perfectly. The second song, "Long, Long Trail," is public domain and dates back to the Great War.
Chapter Fifteen: The Princess of War Drobe
Riding atop Phillip's back as we followed the river was not so very stimulating for the most part and despite the urgency of our quest, we both understood that we had a long way to go and no notion of how long it was going to take to get there. Boredom was inevitable. Beautiful as the setting was, there are only so many magnificent mountains and shimmering waterfalls and pleasant glens and stately trees one can see before they all start looking similar. From the first, to pass the time, quite often we'd talk of Narnia's history, tell stories, play word games, or simply sing. Singing gave me new appreciation for an old Narnian saying I'd heard out of both Tumnus and Sir Giles: Never burden a Horse with a song.
Translated for the unknowing, it's simply a warning that Horses, for all their strength and grace and intelligence, cannot sing. Their throats are simply not designed to hit or hold notes. After a few days I suspected Phillip couldn't carry a tune if it was placed in a saddlebag, but he tried. Despite his complete lack of ability, he did teach me several songs I sang in the equine fashion ever after, making them rather mono-tone and dependant upon the rhythm of a Horse's gait, though I did tend to hit more notes than he did. They were more like chants and I grew very fond of several of them, especially one about a legendary Horse named Heyden, who outran a hurricane in order to warn the inhabitants of Cair Paravel. Among our many studies to be kings, Edmund and I were learning to sing (which he hated and I enjoyed) and so I was better equipped to carry a marching tune than Phillip was as we made our way. All I had to do was call out the beginning of the song, "Heeeeyden! Heyden ho and / Foal of the mighty stallion Shaze / Race from the river / To the ocean's waves," and Phillip perked up his ears and picked up his pace. We soon settled upon a dozen or so favorites and Phillip would match his gait to mark the time whenever I sang, joining me whenever the song was within his range.
One favorite of his, though, was not Narnian at all, but something Susan and I had learned in school back in Finchley. We had been at a celebration - I'm not sure what we were celebrating, but it really didn't matter in Narnia. It may even have been the time some residents in the palace were celebrating having nothing to celebrate. Honestly. Irregardless of the party's motivation, Tumnus begged us for a song from Spare Oom. The only thing I had been able to think of was something made popular by the war at home, Don't Sit Under the Apple Tree, when thankfully Susan remember the simple old tune. We didn't even know the name of it, but it was something the Narnians could understand and we could remember in total. The song appealed instantly to the Narnians and they were thrilled when we all sang:
There once was a king who lived o're the sea,
Bow down, derry dum dee,
There once was a king who lived o're the sea,
And bow down derry dum dee!
There once was a king who lived o're the sea,
and he had daughters one, two, three!
I will be true, true to my love,
O if my love will be true to me!
One day they walked down by the water's brim,
Bow down, derry dum dee,
One day they walked down by the water's brim,
And bow down, derry dum dee!
One day they walked down by the water's brim,
The eldest pushed the youngest in! (Here the Narnians laughed so hard we almost couldn't continue).
I will be true, true to my love,
O if my love will be true to me!
O sister, O sister, pray lend me your hand,
Bow down, derry dum dee,
O sister, O sister, pray lend me your hand,
And bow down, derry dum dee!
O sister, O sister, pray lend me your hand,
And I will give you both house and land!
I will be true, true to my love,
O if my love will be true to me!
I'll neither lend you my hand nor glove,
Bow down, derry dum dee,
I'll neither lend you my hand nor glove,
And bow down, derry dum dee!
I'll neither lend you my hand nor glove,
Unless you promise me your true love!
I will be true, true to my love,
O if my love will be true to me!
So into the river the maiden swam,
Bow down, derry dum dee,
So into the river the maiden swam,
And bow down, derry dum dee!
So into the river the maiden swam,
Until she came to the miller's dam,
I will be true, true to my love,
O if my love will be true to me!
It was silly, it was nonsense, and it was instantly circulated throughout the kingdom. It appealed to our subjects on so many levels - love, loyalty, humor, and royalty all rolled into one sprightly tune that was easily remembered. In later years I heard many verses added on to it until it reached epic proportions and dances were made specifically for the tune. Eventually it ended up being known as The Princess of War Drobe and, after much trial, tribulation, and heartache, it always ended happily no matter which version of it was sung.
But that was in the future and all the times I sang it for Phillip on our journey west it always ended with the princess still in the river. Most Narnian songs are based on fact and our subjects simply assumed this was an actual story from Spare Oom. Having abandoned all attempts to explain our background once again, we all just agreed that it was and Lucy named the poor, waterlogged princess Annette. In a moment of perversity, Edmund had volunteered all sorts of outrageous details gleaned from fairy tales and Arthurian legends until the Narnians were fairly convinced Spare Oom was even more magical and enchanted than their own land.
Phillip requested it almost daily and I gladly sang for him. It helped to lift our spirits and reminded us of home. There was a second song I sang for him, one he loved dearly since I gradually converted it to the equine style of singing so he could join in. I remember learning it on my grandfather's knee, a whistful song of hope and longing for better times. It had been written during the coflict that served as prelude to the war ravaging my home a world away. It fit as a marching tune for this quest, since my only dream was to get home with the apple and save my brother. I knew I was fighting the good fight, as my father and grandfather had before me.
There's a long, long trail a winding into the lands of my dreams,
Where the nightingale is calling and the white moon beams.
It's a long, long night of waiting until my dreams all come true
'Til the day that I go wandering down that long, long trail with you!
I understood better than I ever had before why they had both left their families and gone off to war, and I knew I would do the same. I had done the same.
And I would do it again.