I must give credit where it's due and the idea of Blue River Steel belongs to Almyra. I'm just borrowing it back from her!

Chapter Thirty: Circle, Steel, and Mist

I had just climbed a ridiculously high, steep rock along the river and I collapsed to the mossy ground to rest a few moments. It was drawing close to noon by my estimate, though the bank of fog effectively cut off the sun and plunged the valley into a pale twilight. The going was very hard and seemed to be all uphill even as the river dropped further away. It was as if the valley itself was making it difficult for me. Climbing steps cut for Giants could not be harder.

I looked towards the woods and to my delight I spotted some wintergreen. Sitting up, I gathered up a few of the leaves and chewed them, the sharp, minty flavor a welcome treat. I was about to stand up and move along when I saw movement in the dead, brown ferns and grass right on the edge of the forest. I thought it might be a vole or perhaps a hedgehog, and since I had no desire to frighten the poor beast I stayed still.

So when a pair of fairies no taller than my hand was long emerged from the brush, I was speechless.

They looked mostly human in form with brownish skin and clothes that resembled leaves. Their hair was dark where it peeked beneath their hats made of acorn caps, and their sharp features were accented by pointed ears. They carried staffs with long gray banners attached. Both little men stopped and stared at me with mutual astonishment. I must have seemed to them what Tempus had seemed to me just two days ago, and I dropped to one knee to seem less monstrous.

"Good morn to you," I finally said, nodding in greeting.

After an exchange of looks, they nodded back, touching their fingertips together as they did so. One of them piped up in a squeaky voice, "Alas, sir knight, it is not, for today we bury a great lady."

"I'm grieved to hear that, good sirs, and I'm sure you do her honor," I said. More fairies came up behind them and I realized there was a whole funeral procession about to pass. After Narnian tradition I drew my sword and held it downwards before me out of respect for the dead. I confused them, but they didn't take me as a threat and they continued on their chosen path. Behind them came similarly dressed fairies, male and female both, some carrying banners and others dried flowers. Some of them even had delicate wings like those of a dragon fly. The first two waved the rest on and the procession carried on past me, not without a great deal of staring and whispering. I thought they were quite pretty beings, though Narnia had nothing so small or exotic, at least not that I was aware of. Their clothing became more ornate and rich as more of them passed, and I realized that this was a fairy court. Several rode mice that were saddled and bridled just like horses. All seemed very dejected and the finer the clothes, the less attention they seemed to pay me, though I was impossible to miss.

The line stopped again. The route of their procession was blocked by a puddle of deep mud gathered between two long stones. They could not get through without climbing, which would destroy the dignity of the entire party. The first two I had seen looked back nervously at the long line and I saw their plight. Setting Rhindon down, I stood up and unstrapped my sword belt, sliding the sheath off the long belt. Three strides over the moss and I laid the sheath down in the mud before them. It was more than long enough to give them a high, clear, and dry path. The little crowd of fairies touched their fingertips together to me and hurried on so the line wouldn't stop. I retrieved Rhindon and resumed kneeling. The passing courtiers were lavishly decked in brilliant clothes and jewels, many of them mounted on mice. They simply accepted my presence and that of the sheath in the mud.

Finally a bier carried by four princely fairies passed by. Upon the bier was the body of their lady. She was an old dame with a stern and majestic face. She wore a grey kirtle and she lay upon a brilliant red maple leaf. Behind her were several fairies robed in gray and riding mice, all of them with their heads bent low. Several musicians accompanied this group, playing a long, low dirge on their flutes. If the mourners weren't already miserable I thought that melody would most definitely dampen their spirits as sure as rain on a holiday.

Behind the mourning party came the most gorgeously dressed fairies of all and one of them broke out of the ranks, gesturing for the rest to continue. He directed his mouse to a small mound of moss not far from where I knelt and watched the procession pass. When the last guard in leaf-garb strode by he turned his mouse towards me as neatly as I would have turned Jett. He was a handsome fellow and he looked at me squarely and without fear. On his head was a crown no bigger than a ring, he was richly dressed in velvety cloth and jewels, and there were wide, gossamer wings on his back. He pressed his fingertips together to me.

"You have done us good and honorable duty this day, Sir Knight, and for your service you have my gratitude and that of my people," he said in a voice that was surprisingly deep for his diminutive size.

"I am grateful to have helped in your time of grief," I replied, glad for my rhetoric lessons that allowed me to imitate his courtly speech, speaking volumes but saying very little. "If there is any other service in my power to render you, my lord, you have but to ask."

He inclined his head in thanks. "We will do very well henceforth, Sir Knight, and the service rendered shall be mine. This valley is dangerous for strangers, and so I bid you tarry not. Take nothing that is offered you freely. Let nothing draw you away from your path. When you sleep tonight draw a circle 'round you with your Blue steel and no matter what happens, do not set foot past that line until you see the dawn. No harm will come to you at night in a ring of steel."

I puzzled this for a moment, then realized he was talking about the knife Edmund had made. It was forged from Blue River steel, the finest in Narnia, and I wondered how he knew about it. Perhaps his kind could sense it. Not that it mattered, really. I bowed my head and said, "Thank you, my lord. Your advice is most welcome, and I shall follow it to the letter."

He nodded back as he spurred the mouse around. "Fare thee well, Sir Knight."

"Farewell, my lord."

He rode across Rhindon's sheath and caught up with the rest of the funeral procession. In moments they were swallowed by the forest and mist. I knocked the mud off the sheath, strapped my belt on again, and continued on my way.

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

My next encounter with a denizen of this valley was not nearly so somber.

Not an hour past the fairy funeral I heard another rustle in the brush. I paused, but no fairies appeared and I pressed on. Every few minutes another rustle shook the bushes or leaves. Something was following me and clearly it wanted my attention. I ignored it. Presently the rustles were accompanied by chirps and trills and hums. It was a sweet sound, but I wasn't curious enough to stop and find out what it was. I only cared if it wanted to attack me, and so far it gave no indication of any violent inclination. If it did I would be glad to introduce it to Rhindon. Whatever it was wouldn't take that for an answer and it was getting frustrated at being snubbed.

Finally, it popped its head out of the bushes.

"Hello," I said, startled, my hand on Rhindon's hilt.

It was a blue fox.

Not a gray-blue, mind, but genuinely blue. If Sir Giles had been dipped in indigo dye, he'd look like this creature. It was quite cute, of which it seemed well aware, with disproportionately short legs and navy blue points instead of black. It looked up at me bright and friendly and made a trilling sound and a bark. I smiled at it, nodded, and kept walking.

The fox let out a whine and followed. Darting into my path, it looked up at me with wide, soulful, blue eyes. I stepped over it and kept going. It got in the way again, darting back and forth to the edge of the woods and back. Clearly it wanted me to follow it, which was the very last thing in this world I was going to do. I wanted out of this place and I wasn't about to trust any unnaturally colored fox that tried to lead me astray. The fairies, at least, had not asked for anything and had gone about their business. I was a bit more inclined to trust the fairy king's advice and keep to my aim of getting out of here rather than frolicking about with woodland animals no matter how adorable they may be. The fox yipped and indicated with its head that it wanted me to go into the forest. It really was a pretty little thing, but then, Jadis had been beautiful.

"No, thank you," I said to it. I moved around it and started climbing up the rocks in my path. The blue fox let out a wail as if I'd stomped on its tail. "What?" I asked, looking down. To my annoyance, the little bundle of fur started following me. "I'm not going into the forest," I told it. "You can give it up."

If I had kicked it, the fox could not have looked more crushed. Crying aloud, it threw itself on the ground and rolled and thrashed about in an absolute tantrum the likes of which I hadn't been witness to since Edmund was two. With a sigh I turned back. The moment it realized it had my attention the fox sprang to all four feet and was cute again. It looked back and forth between me and the forest hopefully.

"No," I repeated. "Go find someone else to waylay. I have a Horse to meet."

I resumed walking. Behind me a long, lonely whine turned into a savage growl. Not ten steps later something struck me behind the knees and fell flat on my face amidst the rocks and lichens. I felt a weight on my legs and I twisted over.

So much for cute. The fox growled and foamed savagely, trying to drag me into the forest by my leg. I lashed out with my other foot, kicking it in the head. By its reaction it wasn't used to its victims defending themselves so readily because for a moment it looked positively offended.

So I kicked it again.

Struggling free of its jaws, I surged to my feet and drew Rhindon. The fox was angry now. I wasn't playing by the rules, it seemed. It leaped at me and I sidestepped, bringing my sword down in a sweeping arc. To my complete surprise, I sliced it in two without the least problem. No blood stained my sword, no bone or hide or muscle stopped my swing. Whether it was the nature of the fox or some magical reaction to the steel of Rhindon's blade, I could not say.

And now there were two of them, each half the size of the first. They scrambled to their feet and looked at each other in astonishment. Then they seemed to rally themselves and re-established me as their intended victim. Both growled savagely at me, their hackles rising. One leaped right at me, but I kicked it, sending it sailing, and the other tried to bite my leg. I shook it loose and sliced it in half.

And now there were three.

The second one - or two, I should say - were beginning to figure out that attacking someone armed with a sword wasn't the wisest course of action for creatures of their nature. The half-beast came rushing back and I didn't hesitate. Two hard swipes with Rhindon and I had six graduated, confused foxes, each quite literally a fraction of the original's size. They looked back and forth among themselves, trying to figure out what had happened and how I had gotten so big all of a sudden. I stamped my foot and they darted about in a panic, yipping and howling and crying as they collided and scrambled for cover.

I shook my head, sheathing Rhindon. I had to get away from this place before things got any more bizarre.

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

Dusk fell far sooner than I would have liked, forcing me to stop. I found a level patch of ground sheltered on two sides by stone and decided this would be my bed for the night. The ground was thick with moss and very springy, so I needn't cut any branches to make a bed, much to my relief. I would have liked to make a fire but the flint and steel were in the saddlebags. I pulled out the knife Edmund had made me and studied it for a little while, thinking of my only brother and the love that had gone into its making. It really was an elegant piece, so simple and balanced. I pictured him laboring over it in the broiling hot smithy, perfectionist that he is, following every word of instruction the Black Dwarfs gave him. I knew that all parties involved in its making had to be pleased with the blade or else I never would have gotten it.

If the fairy king was right, this gift would protect me the night through. I stood up and chose a starting place, digging the blade into the soft soil. The effort took longer than I thought it would, but in the end I had cut a wide circle into the ground. For good measure I dragged the blade round the furrow again, whispering, "Aslan, protect me through the night. Be at my back and watch over my sleep. I have a Horse to meet, a brother to save, and a kingdom to protect. Be with me, Great Lion."

Then I wrapped my cloak tightly around myself and curled up in the center, waiting for sleep.

It was a long wait.

I was very hungry and thirsty and I should have gotten a drink before I settled down for the night, but I wasn't willing to step out of the circle. Just as I was drifting off to a deep sleep when there was an explosion of laughter and girlish voices. I jerked awake as half a dozen young women in white dresses came skipping over the slope towards me. In the thick fog they seemed to radiate silvery light and they were lovely to see. The chill air didn't seem to bother them as they danced lightly along, their blond hair flowing behind them. They giggled and frolicked and all at once they made a great show of noticing me huddled on the ground. As if they fooled anyone other than a fool, for what were the odds of them finding this little hollow in the whole valley if not by design? I supposed I had an advantage over the average traveler, being well acquainted with fairy tales and other such lore. My experience in Narnia had taught me not to be deceived simply because something or someone was fair and sweet. Honesty, goodness, and truth were the things we valued in Narnia regardless of appearances. I was thoroughly on my guard.

"Oh! 'Tis a handsome knight!" exclaimed one, and I knew not to trust them because I was a filthy mess and the furthest thing from handsome. They all clamored to be heard, crying, "Come join our feast! Come dance and sing! We have wine and food and song! Oh, do say you'll join us, sir kinght!"

I noticed that for all their enthusiasm and good cheer they didn't step any closer than the edge of the circle I had dug. I stiffly uncurled myself and stood, bowing to them and choosing my words with care.

"Dear and fair ladies of the vale, I thank you for your kind invitation, but sadly, I must decline. This bed is not so easily made, and once I leave I doubt I can return."

They giggled and flirted harder. Were all girls except my sisters so flightly? I had met a small handful of noble girls that acted this way. It was so false it was annoying, and I knew the girls hadn't seen me as much as they had each seen themselves as my wife. I resolved then and there to let my siblings pick out whom I married. Anyone that could survive Edmund would be worth consideration.

"Just over yon hill is a fire and feast and sweet wine, good knight," said the first speaker. "You will be warm and fed and we will make you a bed as soft as eider down."

I smiled, wishing they would go away and take their talk of food with them. My stomach was growling. "Again, dearest lady, I thank you. Your offer temps me, but I fear I cannot step foot past this ring until the dawn."

Another of the girls laughed. "'Tis but a line in the dirt! What can it do?"

"I'm not sure," I replied. "Why don't you step over it and see?"

She didn't laugh this time. Her expression hardened and she looked less pretty. I glanced down as she shifted her stance and I saw that beneath the hem of her dress her feet were black and gnarled. She hissed and drew away into the thickening fog.

"We have venison and callie birds, warm bread and honey cakes, rich red wine flowing like water and every fruit of every season waiting for your pleasure," teased another girl. "Come with me and eat your fill and we'll dance for you!"

How many times could I say no? I bowed my head to her, trying to be polite. "My thanks and my gentle refusal. I mean no insult to your hospitality, lady, but I must refuse. I am bound to this ring."

A frown. They clearly grew angry. They were like the blue fox - they were not used to being stymied.

"You'll forgive me, dear ladies," I said, wrapping my cloak around me and sitting on the moss.

Blood-curdling screams erupted and in an instant the sweet maidens turned into hideous, ancient hags dressed in rags with wild, streaming hair and long, twisted limbs. I leaped to my feet, drawing my sword in terror, but they didn't attack. They couldn't cross the line I had dug with the steel knife. They leaped and screamed and hopped all around me, but they never drew closer. I let my breath out in a gasp. Time passed as the hags hurled insults and taunts at me, calling me all kinds of horrid things and challenging me to fight them. One got too close let out a howl of pain, her gnarled foot smoking as she staggered away, cursing steel at the top of her voice.

Unable to relax yet, I felt my initial alarm fading. I turned Rhindon downwards, holding the blade in both hands as I rested my forehead on the lion's head on the end of the hilt. "Thank you for my gift, Edmund," I whispered, my heart racing and my hands trembling as screams echoed off the cliffs and waters. "Thank you, Aslan, for sending me the fairy king. And...thank you for the sense to listen to good advice when it's given. Be with me still tonight."

I kissed the image of the lion's head, then I glanced at the growling hags. They were frustrated beyond words. I seemed to have that effect on people today.

"Good night, ladies," I said, and settled down again for the night.