Chapter Twenty-Nine: Down in the Valley
"Peter! Peter, where are you?"
I looked up the sheer wall of rock looming overhead. The angle outwards was slight, but enough to keep me from being able to see the Horse. A small stream of dust and gravel told me exactly where he was above me, though. "Phillip, I'm right here. I'm not hurt."
"Thank the Lion! Are you sure?"
"I'm fine," I assured him. Bruises, scrapes, and a few cuts no longer constituted as being hurt in my book.
"Can you climb back up?"
"No. The cliff angles out all along here. That's why you can't see me. I don't see another spot to climb up. I can only go down."
I shuffled to the edge of my perch and looked down. It was far to the valley floor below, with steep rocky walls with patches of vegetation clinging to life here and there until meeting evergreens along the banks of the river. I knew the river and Phillip's path would meet at the end of the vale. Though I didn't recall this exact location, one valley being very similar to the next, there had been a number of times when the trail had deviated from along the Great River and rose high into the hills. This was one of those occasions. Foolish me, I had been looking at Phillip, not where I was going. Unfortunately the ground had seen fit to give way under my feet as I passed, dumping me onto this shelf of rock about forty feet below the rim of the valley after a nice, grit-filled slide down the face of the cliff and a quick drop onto this legde. I was lucky to be alive and lucky I wasn't decorating the bottom of the valley this very moment.
"I'll reach you!" cried Phillip.
"You'll do nothing of the sort!" I ordered sharply. "Follow the trail to the end of the valley. I'll climb down and follow the river and meet you at the far end. Wait for me there!"
"But I have the food!"
"Save me some! And watch out for bears!" I was teasing. We had seen no signs whatsoever of bears this whole journey, but it would keep him alert. "I'm climbing down now, Phillip! I'll see you in a day or two. Be careful! And wait at the end of the valley!"
"Aslan go with you!" he called.
"And with you! Go on!"
I knew if I lingered he'd work himself into a frenzy of worry. After double-checking to be sure the apple was secure and undamaged in the satchel over my shoulder, I strapped Rhindon on my back and used the belt to secure my cape so the winds wouldn't pull me off balance as I climbed. The day was clear and sunny and the frost was long gone from the cliff face. It wasn't exactly warm out, but it wasn't freezing cold, either, and i was rather used to the constant chill. The stone under my hands was brown and weathered with many cracks and jagged breaks that allowed for many hand- and footholds. Climbing down was no great problem, though I did get stuck twice and had to climb up a bit to find another route. The hours Edmund and I had spent climbing over every rock and up every cliff within five miles of Cair Paravel (accomplished without Silvo and Martil being any the wiser) stood me in good stead now. The slope increased as I got lower until I went from an almost vertical climb to simply picking my way down the mountain. I had checked the entire way down, but I didn't see an obvious way back up to where I'd been. It didn't really matter. Once I reached the river it would be a simple matter of following it out of this valley and meeting up with Phillip at the next.
I finally reached the floor of the valley. Looking up the steep cliffs I realized I'd come further than I had initially judged. My arms and hands were sore from all the climbing, and I shook them out after returning Rhindon to my hip. Then I plunged into the thick evergreen forest to find the Great River.
What I had anticipated being a simple matter really wasn't. I should have known better. The forest was so thick that forcing my way through was almost impossible and all sunlight was blocked out. I climbed and ducked and wove and inched every step of the way. Even this late in the season I got covered with resin in a matter of minutes. Moss and lichen abounded on every surface, thick and green, the other plants the evergreens would abide growing around them. Oreius had said lichens were edible, but I wasn't quite hungry enough to sample any. Not yet. I certainly wasn't in any danger of running out of them, at least. I was glad I had eaten a huge breakfast because without the bow and arrows hunting would be impossible, even if there was any game in this place. I hadn't seen signs of any life besides me and the trees, not even birds.
When I reached the river it was a small cataract, icy cold and loud. I got a drink, then turned and walked along its banks, climbing over steep rocks and fallen trees and picking a careful path. Small wonder the trail bypassed this valley. It was almost impossible to traverse the riverbanks and I slipped more than once and almost spilled myself into the water. Only someone mad or on a quest (or both) would take this route. The only virtue it had was that it was shorter than the trail Phillip and I had been following, just a thousand times more difficult. The floor of the valley and the banks of the Great River were a huge, jumbled mess of stone that seemed to have been thrown up in hap-hazard fashion to make traveling difficult in the extreme. I would be fortunate to reach Phillip by tomorrow.
As I worked my way downriver I took the opportunity to wonder about home. It wasn't so very far past dawn and even now Edmund was probably sitting at the breakfast table with Susan and Lucy. I didn't dare think about breakfast, but I did wonder how their classes were progressing. I didn't know what day of the week it was, but if it was a Firstday Edmund would be Oreius' and Celer's student all morning learning how to plan and conduct battles. On Seconday he would be at the mercy of the dance and music instructors along with the girls, then it was off to rhetoric. Third-, Fourth-, and Fifthday he was with Cheroom. Often I attended history with him, sneaking out of the library to join them since Cheroom was a far more intersting (and awake) teacher than Lewiston. Sixthday it was back to Oreius and Seventhday we rested. It was strange having tutors come to us, but at least there was almost no homework and no tests.
I stood atop a tall rock, looking downriver and trying to assess my path. It would be slow going. The pines were so thick they seemed to be edging each other out as they competed for light along the riverbanks. I had never seen forest so dense, not even at Aslan's How when the rebel trees tried to capture me and Edmund so Jadis' soldiers could kill us.
And then things started getting strange.
As I studied my surroundings a misty, whispy bank of fog began to form despite the draft of air over the river. I glanced skywards. Behind me the sun was still shining. Before me, impossibly, was fog. It curled through the trees, adding an air of eerieness I could just have well have done without.
Having no choice, I continued along my difficult path. Odd sounds began to reach my ears, sounds of things moving in the forest or splashing in the water behind me. At one point I thought I heard music, a few notes blown on a flute. Though it was a little disturbing, I ignored it all as best I could and concentrated on getting downriver. It took a lot more than noise to frighten me. I've had a screaming Centaur general swinging a claymore at my head full force to teach me the true meaning of fear. After an experience like that, noise in the forest was almost laughable.
I began to wonder if the ground hadn't given way under my feet by design. Given the configuration of the cliffs, I should not have hit that ledge. And how strange was it that there was no way to climb up, only ways down?
I could see why the trail skirted this valley, and it wasn't just because there wasn't a clear path along the river.
The valley was inhabited by creatures so odd they made Talking Animals and Walking Trees seem commonplace.
It all started with a funeral.