Chapter Forty: Heyden

Susan had very thoughtfully brought me clothes of all types out of my closet and under Edmund's watchful glare I piled on more of them. Even I was alarmed to see how frightfully thin I was, and though in most cases the length of the sleeves and leggings were too short, everything still fit over this scrawny frame of mine. After weeks of wearing filthy, damp, mud- and blood-encrusted clothes, soft cloth against my skin was like unto paradise. I couldn't find my boots so I wore a pair of the lace-up shoes we used in summer. (Later that night Edmund casually tossed my poor, worn-out boots into the camp's bonfire and I derived great pleasure out of watching them burn.)

After a breakfast where I ate everything in range, we joined Aslan by the apple tree. Less than a week old, it was already taller than I was. It had the same straight trunk I had seen on the tree in the Garden and silvery, pale leaves despite the fact that it was almost winter. Aslan had already appointed several dozen Dryads to nurture and protect it even as it would protect Narnia. It was such a pretty thing that I was suddenly struck by King Frank's desire to be a gardener in order to have a hand in something so beautiful. I had done this. I had brought this wonderful thing to Narnia, and it was all for...

"King Edmund the Just," said Aslan as everyone in the camp looked on. "It is for you to take the final steps of this journey. Pluck the apple from the tree and rid yourself of Jadis' corruption."

Edmund bowed deeply to Aslan, then pursed his lips and stepped over to the tree. For a moment he studied the little plant, the blue and green leaves, the silver bark, the one small apple it had produced. Like its mother fruit, the apple shone with silvery light even when he picked it. He was self-conscious enough to cast me and the girls a quirky little smile, then bit into the apple.

When he swallowed the first mouthful, he gasped. We all started forward, but he shook his head and took another bite. Before my very eyes my brother was transformed. Only someone that knew him as well I could have seen it. With each bite the anger and hurt and guilt that had consumed him for so long seemed to lessen and fade until the young man that had struggled so hard with what was right and wrong and his own self-loathing was replaced by my generous, witty, and loving little brother. This was the Edmund from before Narnia, before the war and Father leaving, before being sent to that awful school that poisoned his spirit so.

This Edmund could forgive himself.

He stood beside the tree and didn't move, feeling the magic work on him. His eyes closed and I knew that for a long moment he was overwhelmed by the uncontrollable rush of emotion and relief as the darkness within him was banished. Finally he opened his eyes and...he smiled. And I saw in those dark eyes the little boy I knew and loved so well and the great man and king he would someday become. I was undone, and true to form I felt tears in my eyes. This was the moment I had lived for since the Anniversary of Beruna.

At a nod from Aslan, he handed the core to one of the eager Dryads. I knew they would plant it and nurture it as avidly as the Tree of Protection. Edmund watched the reverence the Birch showed as she carried it, and the other Dryads were positively aglow with excitement. They crowded around to see it as she broke it in half, exposing two brown seeds. It was as if they were looking at a new baby, which for them I suppose they were. My brother smiled faintly, then looked to us, his dark eyes speaking of awe and love and relief.

With excited cries Susan and Lucy rushed forward to hug him but I stood my ground, just watching. Edmund endured their caresses for a few moments, then extracted himself. He cast Aslan a warm smile and stepped over to me, looking up at me with a faint smirk on his lips.

"Oh, go ahead and cry, Peter," he said. "Get it out of your system!"

But I laughed instead.

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There was quite a bit of shuffling around as we prepared to head home later that same day. Edmund politely refused Phillip's offer to carry him, insisting that the good Horse needed a rest from carrying anything heavier than a blanket. That Phillip didn't argue very hard was evidence of his lingering fatigue, though he had been restored to health by a drop of the cordial and could move his tail again. I would have mounted my black mare, Jett, but Edmund swung into her saddle before I could and gave me a stern look.

"Oreius! Oreius! General, please make sure my brother does not ride any horse except Marsk no matter what he says, commands, or whines."

The Centaur cast me a dark look at the mere mention that I'd entertain the thought, and nodded to Edmund. I glared at both conspirators in aggravation. I did not like to be baby sat, but it seemed as if everyone here was against me, even my sisters. Instead of coming to my defense, they just nodded in agreement and echoed Oreius' glare. In truth, Jett was probably more than I could handle right now and Marsk, older and slower, barely needed guidance. I climbed defiantly into his saddle and waited for the others. Finally Aslan took a spot beside me and we started. I immediately called,

"Oi! Phillip!"

The Horse looked at me expectantly. I grinned, then chanted,

"Heeeey-den! Heyden ho and!"

"Oh, no!" Edmund rolled his eyes, clearly familiar with equine song.

"Foal of the mighty stallion Shaze!" I sang with Phillip.

"Oh!" exclaimed Lucy. "Oh, I can play that! Wait for me! Wait for me! Don't go yet!" she cried as if we would ever ride off and leave her. She slid off her palfrey and hurried over to Celer, who grinned as he handed her something from a pouch at his waist. Clambering back onto the horse, she held up her prize: a pan pipe. "Now sing!" she commanded, smiling broadly before putting the pipe to her lips expectantly.

I laughed, grinning at Edmund as I began anew.

"Heeeey-den! Heyden ho and / Foal of the mighty stallion Shaze!"

My brother groaned. "Phillip!" he whined, convinced the Horse had corrupted me.

"Race from the river to the ocean's waves!"

Phillip joined in, then Oreius's deep voice picked up the song along with all the soldiers that knew the words

"Storm in the valley, winds off to sea!"

Susan didn't know the words, but she caught the beat and began to sing a harmony along with us. Aslan purred with pleasure as Lucy managed to play the handful of notes, not necessarily on the beat, and then even he joined in.

"Strike of lightning at the meadow's lea and

Heyden ho! Heyden ho and!"

I stopped in surprise. We had been joined by a clear voice that sounded as sweet as Susan's. I looked at Edmund in astonishment, for it was he. He smirked and shrugged.

"Just because I don't like to sing doesn't mean I can't. It's like dancing."

I laughed and picked up the song again. And so we headed home, escorted by Aslan and the army and our loving subjects.

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It took four days to make it back to the palace. Each night at dinner we sat around a huge fire singing more songs and telling tales (and, that first night, watching my missing boots burn). Backed up by Phillip, I related some of our adventures. The Slinn disgusted them, Rhye thrilled them, the Krakens astonished them, and Aslan smiled when I conveyed Tempus' greetings. Aslan knew of the Seelie and approved an alliance with the tiny fairies. There was so much to tell I barely brushed the surface of all we had seen and done and I made it a point to thank my siblings again for their invaluable gifts. I couldn't stay awake long, though I was just as interested to find out what had gone on at Cair Paravel during my absence. They regaled me with stories of the Galman nautical tutor (a very capable noble dame) and their classes in navigation and tentative plans for a deep-water port not far from Cair Paravel. It seemed our navy was to be a reality with the help of the Galmans, who were eager both for trade and for Narnia's protection from marauders from the south. I probed carefully, and found all the dreams I'd had of them in the Western Wild had been absolutely accurate. I looked to Aslan for clarification, but he merely smiled. As he escorted me and Edmund to our tent one night, I turned to the Lion.

"Will you stay at Cair Paravel, Aslan?" I pressed.

He looked at me with love and understanding. "For a little while longer, Peter. I have tarried long in Narnia."

"I was hoping you'd stay."

"I have always been, and always will be with you," he reminded.

"I know. I was just being selfish."

Edmund snorted and judging by Aslan's expression he agreed with my brother's sentiment.

"You? Selfish?" exclaimed Edmund. "When? I want to see it."

Aslan chuckled and said, "I will see you safely back to where you started this quest. Fear not, High King. You'll see me soon."

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We arrived at the Cair just after night fall. A few miles from the palace we decided to press on rather than make another camp because the temperature had plummeted and we all dearly wanted to sleep indoors. To my embarrassment, I fell asleep in the saddle and woke up only as Oreius was carrying me into the bedroom Edmund and I shared. The Centaur chuckled as he set me on my feet to be greeted by the ecstatic valets. I let Silvo fuss to his heart's content and took the longest, hottest bath of my life. Afterwards, as we waited for a meal to be sent up, I asked the Faun to cut my hair. Susan let out a little whine - I was surprised that she should like long hair on a man, especially me - and she kept some of the shorn locks. It was a relief to be rid of so much hair but suddenly it was also very drafty on my neck. I hadn't noticed that until my hair was gone. It was worth having a cold neck, I decided.

Aslan joined us for our supper and I began telling the story of our adventure in better order than while we had been encamped. I didn't get very far - not even to Lasa, whose memory still roused all my guilty instincts - but I did skip ahead and tell them about shooting and eating the crow. My dear siblings did not disappoint me with their delighted and sarcastic comments and puns and I could see Edmund's mind would be working this for days, perhaps even weeks. I looked forward to every biting comment. It wasn't long before I was drooping with exhaustion and Aslan laughingly sent me to bed. My bed. In my room. Being tucked in by Susan was the most wonderful sensation in the world. It was so strange to be out of the wind, away from the constant sound of the river, that the unfamiliar quiet kept me awake.

Edmund followed me not much later. I stirred when he entered. The moon cast the room into faint shadow.

"Ed?"

He leaned against my bed, a small smile playing on his lips as he looked at me. "Sorry to wake you."

"No," I mumbled, then asked hopefully, "Are you cold?"

I caught a flash of white teeth as his smile turned into a grin. "I could be if you'd like."

"I'd like," I yawned.

"Shove over, Peter, I'm freezing."

I made room for him and he climbed into the bed with me. He actually was rather cold. He settled in close, glad of the invitation. I knew if I hadn't asked he would have found his way over here anyway, or I would have gone to his bed.

"Peter?" he whispered.

"Hmm?"

"Thank you."

I smiled and drew him closer for a hug, kissing his dark hair. "I'd do it again."

"Yes, I was afraid you'd say something like that."