Chapter Twenty: Still Waters Run Deep
"What is that, Majesty? Is it a cairn?"
I craned my neck up at the monstrously huge slab of stone resting atop four smaller stones, trying to remember the name for the structure. It was an elegant and primitive construction, so remarkably balanced it needed no ornamentation to make it a thing of beauty. I was reminded of Stonehenge, though this seemed far simpler.
"No, not a cairn. I can't remember the name for it, Phillip, though we have something like this back in Spare Oom. They're very ancient in my world and usually they were tombs and covered by mounds of earth."
Phillip could have easily stepped under the capstone with me on his back and I would not have needed to duck. It was very impressive, enough to make us pause to admire it.
"I wonder who built it," I said.
"Giants, perhaps," said the Horse. "It is very interesting, do you not think so?"
"Very. Maybe we'll see more."
But we didn't. The Great River lead us through the valley of stone in a winding path. We had come upon the stone tomb in a small gorge that was strangely barren of life. The rock here was yellowish and dull and jagged, spreading out far from the riverbanks until it reached a line of scrub pine of some sort and some cedars that looked disappointed with their lot in life. It was cold and windy here and we didn't stop for long, not even when I shot a hare. The chill weather blowing off the mountains stirred us both to press on. We had lost almost a month's travel and we had to make up as much as we were able.
Immediately past the gorge the vegetation was more plentiful and the water opened up to a wide pond, the first of many such small ponds we would pass by over the next few days. By now Phillip had a theory about me and open bodies of water and in his opinion they couldn't be trusted by me. I wasn't to blame, the lakes were. Whenever we came upon a lake or pond or pool or overgrown puddle I was made to mount up and he sped past them no matter the situation so as to spare the denizens of the lake whatever magnetic draw scrawny, blond, Narnian kings might emit. He had informed me that in Narnia lakes were a rarity and after much deliberation and more wracking of my tired brain, I was forced to agree, not being able to name a single one off the top of my head. Most water in Narnia was moving, and Phillip said Divine Waters that stood still were not to be trusted since it was water's nature to always flow somewhere else. I relayed to him the old saying of still waters running deep and he just took it as more proof for his theory that any water that would remain in place had problems beyond our ability to address. I didn't argue. He had lived here all his life and I didn't know enough about the subject to debate. In all honesty, I wasn't too keen on venturing any closer to the lakes myself. I was still haunted by the uncertain memories of my time beneath the lake with Lasa and the feel of the barrier over the water. I never did figure out if she had set it there to enchant unfortunates like me or if it was set in place by an outsider to confine her.
But today, here on the shore of this pond, we paused to rest a few moments. I was hoping to spot a last few cattails to eat with the birds I had shot, but the reeds were too dry and the roots were beyond hope. I was going to once again just eat whatever greens I found. I was genuinely tired of plantain even though its taste was inoffensive. I pulled out a few rose hips from the saddlebag and gnawed on them with a grimace. Eating flowers was worse than eating weeds. Beside me, Phillip industriously grazed on the long, tough grasses.
I piled up a few rocks, trying to recreate the tomb we had seen in miniature when the word struck me. "Dolmen!" I exclaimed, producing a puzzled look from the Horse. "The rocks we saw in the gorge. That's a dolmen."
"Ah," he said, thoroughly unimpressed. I smirked at him and cast the stones of my own tiny dolmen into the pond one at a time. The ripples faded quickly and I looked down, dusting off my hands and pulling my gloves on again as I stood to stretch. I hesitated. My senses told me something was different, though I didn't register a threat. Then I looked up.
A large, black sea serpent was looking right back at me. It had risen silently out of the water and it stared at me with as much astonishment (and far more confidence) as I stared up at it. Later on, when I got over the initial moment of fear, I realized it was quite a pretty creature, rather like a seafaring Chinese dragon with flippers instead of claws and bright, intelligent, green eyes. Its mouth was slowly chewing a great hank of plant life torn up from the bottom of the pond.
I had no voice, so startled was I by the sudden and noiseless appearance of this creature. Phillip munched away at the grass, his tail towards the water, blissfully unaware that we had a visitor. Luckily the sea serpent seemed completely uninterested in doing us any harm as it waited and watched and ate.
Not knowing what else to do and rather floored by its size and grace, I bowed.
The sea dragon stopped chewing and seemed greatly surprised, then it bowed back, inclining its large head and closing its eyes as it bent. I reached for Phillip, trying to get his attention, and finally I looked away for a moment.
When I looked back, it was gone.
"Phillip!" I squeaked. He looked up immediately and I waved towards the pond. "You missed it! There was a - a - I don't know! Some kind of sea serpent! It was all black and looked like a dragon gone swimming."
He stared at the smooth water suspiciously. I was too excited to stop ranting.
"It was eating plants and it seemed to want something so I bowed and it bowed back and when I looked away it was gone! What do you think?"
"I think we should leave. On my back, King Peter."
I made a face. "It was eating plants, not limbs," I muttered as I obeyed. Some things weren't worth arguing over, king or no. Phillip immediately set out at a brisk trot. I couldn't resist a look back at the pool. To my delight I saw no less than three of the creatures silently watching us leave. I smiled and bowed again as best I could on a moving Horse. All three of the dark creatures ducked their heads, graceful as swans.
I said nothing to Phillip, not wanting to cause him any more worry, but I smiled for the rest of the day.