Author's note: Many thanks to my marvelous reviewers: Narniachick, Rose and Thorn, Eavis, and Bartholo. Your encouragement is greatly appreciated.
Without further ado, here is the first chapter. Happy reading!
Chapter the first: Discoveries
6 Greenroof 1004
The haunting beauty of faun flutes and the rhythmic beat of satyr drums filled the cool night air of the Beruna Plain. Around a massive bonfire a myriad creatures danced. Roasted meats, fruit pastries, and sumptuous foods lined tables set up a short distance away. Two young men, boys but for the wise gleam in their eyes and crowns of authority gracing their heads, stood with goblets of ruby colored wine in hand watching a golden-haired lass twirl in the circle of dancers around the fire. A raven haired young lady also watched her sister dance as she saw to the comfort of the party guests. The celebration was as wild and free as Narnia itself, for it was the fourth anniversary of the Battle of Beruna and defeat of the White Witch.
Late into the night the youngest king, dark-haired Edmund, relinquished his wine goblet to his brother and walked from the boisterous party. He strolled slowly, deeply engrossed in his own thoughts. Presently he sat upon one of the boulders that littered the grassy field, and looked up to the shining stars as they danced their ancient, airy dance above.
As Edmund shifted his boot-clad feet, he heard the soft chime of metal in the grass. Leaning over, he saw a black gleam amongst the daises, and, picking it up, realized what he had inadvertently found.
The Just king held the knife in his trembling hands as his leaden feet found their way back to the celebration. The revelers had quieted, for the old centaur Thunderclap was about to begin the storytelling. Peter saw his brother's odd behavior.
"Ed, what's wrong?"
"Look what I found, Pete." Edmund's voice was thick with emotion and his eyes full of unshed tears as he held out the knife to his brother.
"It's the Witch's knife, Peter. The one she used to kill Aslan when he took my place." Edmund's voice wavered. Peter took the knife and embraced his shaken brother.
"It's alright, brother," whispered Peter, his chin resting on top of Edmund's head.
"It's not alright, Pete. I still don't know how," Edmund mumbled into Peter's shoulder.
"How what?"
"How He could have so much love for me that he would die for me. I was a traitor. I betrayed Him…and you."
"That's just it, Ed. You were a traitor. You are no longer. You are not the same person, for He redeemed you."
Edmund broke the embrace and reclaimed the knife. Tears no longer puddled his dark eyes, and a hint of a smile graced his face.
"I suppose it is just who He is," Edmund said. "If He would care enough to die in a traitor's stead, He would do anything for His people. This knife must be kept in honor, so that all may see it and know of His boundless love."
"Indeed, brother. You speak well," Peter quietly agreed.
That evening, before the celebration ended, all were informed of Edmund's discovery. All agreed—it would be kept in the Hall of Ages at Cair Paravel. The Hall of Ages was a massive art gallery that chronicled the History of Narnia with paintings and artifacts. Among those paintings gracing the walls were those of King Frank I and Queen Helen beside the Tree of Protection, King Gale fighting the Dragon of the Lone Islands, beside which hung Gale's sword itself, and even a portrait of fair Queen Swanwhite.
Thus it was that in the fourth year of the Golden Age, the Stone Knife was placed in the Hall of Ages. It rested in a carved mahogany box lined with royal blue velvet which sat upon a marble pillar in front of the painting of the Stone Table. Carved into the pillar were the words:
"May this Knife of Stone forever bear witness to the infinite love of our Creator."
18 Redleaf 1004
"Edmund, Peter, hurry up! The Calormene ambassador's ship is docking!" The young queen tugged her brothers towards the Great Hall's balcony.
"Alright, Lu, we're coming. Don't pull so!" Peter cried indignantly, rubbing the offended hand. These boisterous three joined their dark haired sister on the balcony in time to see the proud Calormene galleon, The Prize of Tashbaan, sail into Cair Paravel's harbor. A party of colorfully robed Calormene dignitaries and their attendants disembarked from the ship.
A little while later, Ambassador Mayur and his group entered the Great Hall and approached the Four Thrones.
"Good morn, Ambassador Mayur. I trust your trip was pleasant," King Peter began.
"Indeed it was, O High King," the Ambassador replied, bowing. "The weather was most pleasant. Have not the poets said 'storms are curses upon both soul and sail, but fine weather refreshes the spirit'?"
"I'm sure they have, Ambassador. A true saying indeed," replied King Edmund, making sure not to deem the saying wise.
"Perhaps our guests would like to refresh themselves before touring the castle. We may begin our business tomorrow," said Queen Susan.
"Thank you, O gracious Queen. Both your hospitality and beauty know no bounds. Just as the poets have said, 'A woman of beauty, grace, and gentle spirit is a treasure of inestimable value.'"
Susan blushed and inclined her head in acknowledgement of the compliment, Lucy held back a giggle, Edmund looked rather ill, and Peter turned the most abominable shade of purple. After regaining her composure, Lucy beckoned for a jaunty talking squirrel to show the Calormenes to their rooms.
Once in the privacy of their sitting room, Lucy began to howl with laughter.
"Oh, Susan, did you see Peter's face? It turned as purple as a plum dryad! Oh, and Edmund," Lucy gasped between giggles, "you looked positivelygreen!"
"I'm glad we amuse you so," Edmund said wryly. "I was sick of all his nonsensical maxim rubbish."
"I didn't like the way he spoke of Su as some trinket to be owned. Treasure indeed. I'll tell him what he can do with his treasure!"
"Peter, don't grouse so. I thought his compliment was rather nice," Susan chided.
"Oh, come on all of you, or lunch will get cold," Lucy called, finally able to contain her giggles.
After a filling lunch of pavenders, hot biscuits, fresh salad, and apples, the four young rulers made their way to the Calormenes' chambers to conduct the promised tour.
The tour party wound through the castle, with each of the four pointing out something along the way. Now in the gardens, now in a tower, but never anywhere that could pose a security threat. The Calormenes were not allies, after all.
As they walked through the Hall of Ages, one Calormene nobleman, the Tarkaan Achan, saw the Stone Knife. He knew the knife was sacred to the barbarians, but when Achan wanted something, Achan got it.
A week later, in the dead of night before the Calormene day of departure, Tarkaan Achan crept through the marble hallways. Reaching the Hall of Ages, he approached the pillar on which the Stone Knife rested. Moonlight streamed through the narrow windows on the opposite wall and all was silent save for the low cry of an owl far below in the garden. Achan reached out and took the Knife by the hilt, but it was not for him to take.
The sapphire pommel began to glow with blue, ethereal fire, and the silver handle glowed red hot. The glowing sapphire emitted streams of blue lightning that enveloped Achan in electric agony as the fiery hilt burned his palm.
The entire castle was startled awake by his tortured shrieks of pain, until his screams ceased as suddenly as they began and all was quiet again.
The centaur guard nearest the hall found him first—lying on the ground motionless with the Stone Knife beside him on the marble floor, inches from his burned hand. The guard, Trahaearn, bellowed for the other guard to bring a healer and several more guards. The four monarchs came running, dressed in their bathrobes. The kings both held drawn swords in their hands. They arrived to see a dryad healer checking the unconscious man.
"What happened here?" demanded King Peter.
"No one knows, your majesty," replied the honeysuckle dryad Meila. "The Calormene is alive, but barely. He has severe burns all over his body."
"It appears that he attempted to steal the Stone Knife, my liege," reported Trahaearn.
"Take him to the infirmary. Do what you can for him, but if he dies it will be on his own head, for it seems that Aslan has punished him for his wrongdoing," said Peter gravely. "We cannot interfere with His judgment. Tell us if he awakens, Miela."
With a nod, the dryad motioned for Trahaearn to pick Achan up and bring him. Ambassador Mayur arrived in time to see his assistant carried away.
"What, by the Tisroc himself (may he live forever), happened to Tarkaan Achan?"
"It seems, Ambassador, that your assistant tried to steal a sacred relic from the Hall of Ages," Edmund said icily.
"That is of no consequence, barbarian! If he dies, it is war!"
"We shall see, Ambassador. We shall see."
Taken aback by the fierce gleam in the young kings' eyes, Ambassador Mayur stormed out of the Hall, and Susan reached out a delicate hand to replace the knife on its pillar.
"We should get back to bed," she said quietly.
OoOoOoOoO
The next morning, the four were summoned to the infirmary by Miela.
"He is stable now, and conscious. He should survive with rest," Miela informed them.
Peter went over to Achan's bed and inquired what had happened. In a cracked, dry voice Achan answered him.
"I admired the stone knife, O my host, and desired it for my own. Know, O king, that as I grasped the hilt, by some foul magic the pommel glowed blue and threw out a fierce storm of lightning that enveloped me and the hilt was as hot as though it had been in the blacksmith's flames. Wise was the poet who said 'a thief who steals from a kind host will reap the lash of the whip and leave empty handed.'"
"We shall not punish you, Achan," said Edmund. "You have already been given punishment enough."
The Ambassador and company departed on schedule, taking Achan with them. The monarchs were not sorry to see them go.
"Good riddance!" said Peter as they stood on the balcony watching the Calormene ship sail away.
"Well, we did learn one thing, Pete," said Edmund.
"And what was that?"
"The Stone Knife cannot be touched by Calormenes."
"Yes, but it could be that it is thieves that cannot touch it," interjected Lucy.
"Perhaps, since it represents Aslan's love, only one who loves Aslan can touch it," proposed Susan.
"I suppose we will never know, but that sounds the most logical, Su," replied Peter. "We must ensure that nothing ever happens to it."
"Pete, it electrocutes people who try to do anything bad to it," deadpanned Edmund.
"Well, what if someone tried to destroy it without actually touching it, or took it in the wooden box."
"He has a point, Ed," agreed Susan.
"Alright. We set a guard," proposed Edmund.
"No, we need something more," replied Peter.
"I know!"
"What, Lu?"
"We form a new order of knights to protect it, so that even after we are gone the knife will always be protected."
Everyone agreed.
"What should the order be called?" asked Peter. After a moment of thought, Edmund quietly spoke up.
"The Order of the Lion's Redemption."
"That's perfect, Ed," Peter said solemnly, and the girls nodded in accord.
A long month of searching passed, the Pevensies making lists of the requests of warriors to join the Order. Only the most skilled, dedicated, and trustworthy knights were chosen.
Finally, the chosen knights were re-knighted as knights of the Most Noble Order of the Lion's Redemption. The knights of the new Order wore blue tabards embroidered with a silver rampant Lion.
Thus it was that in the fourth year of the Golden Age the Most Noble Order of the Lion's Redemption was formed by High King Peter, Queen Susan, King Edmund, and Queen Lucy that the Stone Knife would always be protected; an order of knighthood that lasted a millennium.