Author's note: So much for prompt updates. My apologies. Christmas can't come soon enough for me.
Thank you very much to all my reviewers. Your input is greatly appreciated.
Disclaimer: Narnia isn't mine, no copyright infringement intended, etc. etc.
Chapter the Fourteenth: Of Schemes, Stars, and Pomposity
1 Mayblossom 2076
Galen made his way back to his room after taking leave of Juliana. After staring out the window a moment or two, a wonderful idea sprang into his head. Galen quickly changed into plainer clothing, strapped on his sword, and picked up his satchel and bow and quiver. He exited his room and made unobtrusively for the kitchen. All the kitchen staff were so busy preparing for the New Year's feast that no one noticed the Narnian's presence. There he filled the satchel with some fruit, a couple of meat pasties, some small raspberry tarts, and a container of water. After spending the better part of a month in Anvard, Galen had learned the layout of the castle and now knew how to move largely unobserved if he so chose. Galen took advantage of this knowledge, and in a few minutes he was walking through the forest, Anvard's trying inhabitants far behind.
The day really was beautiful, he thought as he walked along. Warm sunlight filtered through the bright green canopy of leaves above him, and birds sang from almost every branch. Spring flowers clustered around tree trunks, and every time a cool breeze tousled the leaves it revealed a sliver of brilliant blue sky. Galen continued walking, recognizing a particular boulder here, a broken branch there. After a little while, he came to a familiar little waterfall and climbed up the worn rocks beside it. Reaching the top, Galen took a deep breath and smiled. Lyra's glen looked so wonderfully peaceful.
He walked beside the pool a moment, gazing up at the mountain beyond the waterfall, then stood beside the willow tree and looked up: the branches were perfect for climbing. He hoisted himself up to the first branch and climbed up until he found just the right branch: sturdy and well-connected to the trunk, with a curtain of long willow leaves opening to a perfect vantage point over the entire glen from the entrance to the waterfall. Galen settled himself on the branch and neatly hung his satchel, bow, quiver, and sword belt on the branch above him. He took a deep breath and let out a contented sigh. It was not his oak tree, but it would do quite nicely.
Galen rested for a moment, tranquilly absorbing the muted roar of the waterfall and the cool breeze that rustled the willow leaves. He did not know whether that moment lasted a minute or an hour, but with each passing second Galen felt as though Anvard's many troubling and meddlesome things drifted farther away. After a little while, he reached for his satchel and pulled out a little flute that he had always loved to play. Wild, free-spirited music filled the little glen, and even the air seemed to dance to it.
In this way he spent quite some time, playing his favorite tunes. As he was intently playing a slow, thoughtful air, Galen began to realize that his flute was not the only sound in the glen. Now, he could hear the clear strains of a lyre floating through the willow leaves, playing in compliment to his flute (which he now abruptly stopped playing). The poor Narnian nearly jumped out of his skin (losing his precarious balance in the process) when he looked down and saw Lyra sitting on a branch just below him on the other side of the tree, lyre in hand.
"I was wondering when you would notice that you had not only birds for company, Sir Galen," Lyra said, smiling mischievously.
"Oh, I, uh, did not see you, my lady," Galen stammered as he found his balance again.
"Clearly!" said Lyra, laughing. "When I did not see you anywhere in Anvard, I thought I would find you here. I could barely stand the lot of them myself."
"Well," Galen began, a trifle embarrassed, "I always used to amuse myself with my flute in my oak tree back home. I suppose it is a habit."
"A habit well worth continuing, good sir! I've never heard music so full of joy. The woods seemed to fairly dance to your tunes, and the birds have never sung so cheerfully. You've brought the forest alive."
"I just could not bear to stay in the castle for another minute. I am not used to so many people. Singularly dreadful people at that." Galen grimaced as he tucked his flute into his satchel and pulled out the little napkin he had smuggled out of the kitchen, offering some of the tasty contents to his newfound companion, who happily accepted, remarking that Galen had prepared for a siege.
"Well, I suppose you cannot be too careful. Bothersome, aren't they?" Lyra chuckled as she climbed up to a branch on the same level as Galen's.
"Quite. I ran into a different one earlier, though. She was less giddy than the others and actually tried to make conversation. Something was not quite right, though. Simply being near her made my stomach turn, made me feel as though I was about to find myself ambushed rather than carrying on innocuous conversation," Galen explained, shuddering slightly. Lyra raised an eyebrow knowingly.
"Let me guess. You have made the acquaintance of Lady Juliana."
"Indeed," he replied, surprised. "Is she always like that?"
"Lady Juliana's greatest disappointment is not being in a position of particular power. As a result, she uses whatever means she can to get what she wants through manipulation and deception."
"What could she want with me, my lady?"
"What could she want?" Lyra scoffed. "Why, she means to make a husband of you, of course. Whether you like it or not, Sir Galen, you are in a position of prominence and influence. Imagine what a feather in her cap it would be to have conquered the great, and possibly last, Narnian knight, a knight whose opinion the king values, and whose opinion she could thereby influence."
"I don't think I like the sound of that," Galen grimaced.
"As well you shouldn't. A year ago Juliana had the same designs on my brother. She is a skillful manipulator, but eventually her plan to become Archenland's future queen failed rather miserably, I am afraid," Lyra replied, grinning. "I try to ignore her now, and I cannot see her as a legitimate threat. The girl cannot shoot or parry for all the rubies in Calormen!"
"It seems she does enough damage without sword or arrow," the Narnian shuddered.
Lyra nodded in agreement, fingers lightly strumming her lyre strings.
"I do not understand how you can bear to live in the midst of these people, my lady. So little kindness and so much scheming. So little, I beg your pardon my lady, so little intelligence among the lot of them!"
"You needn't beg my pardon, sir!" Lyra laughed. "I've spent a lifetime among such people, and sometimes I wonder that I have not lost my mind."
Galen chuckled.
"Surely, though, people cannot be so very different in Narnia than in Archenland."
"Well, my lady, it is not so much a matter of people. The Telmarine occupiers are human, of course, but Narnians, real Narnians, have very few humans among us. Why, my mentor and teacher was a centaur, and my friends scampered on four legs far more often than on two."
"Oh, I see! I had not realized that before, but of course! You must not be used to being near so many people, much less these people. How dreadful for you!"
"Well, I suppose," Galen glanced northwards towards Narnia for the briefest moment, but returned his gaze and his mind to the present and picked up his flute with a smile. "Ah, but the day is far too lovely for such musings. Perhaps your lyre would like some company?"
"Indeed it would, sir!" Lyra answered, running her fingers across her lyre to produce a shower of shimmering notes. Galen's flute gave cheerful answer, and thusly passed a most pleasant spring afternoon.
The last golden rays of sunlight glanced over the treetops before the two grudgingly began to leave their sanctuary behind. The pair laughed and talked as they walked slowly back to Anvard, and finally the grey towers loomed above them.
"Oh!," Lyra exclaimed. "How could I have forgotten? There is another ball tonight, Sir Galen. In celebration of the New Year," Lyra mentioned as they approached the gate. Galen moaned.
"I wish there was a way to avoid those simpering girls!"
"Never fear, dear knight!" Lyra exclaimed, making an flourishing, exaggerated curtsey as her blue eyes twinkled with mirth. "I shall keep the hounds at bay!"
"Then this humble knight is ever in your debt, dear lady!" Galen replied, sweeping an overstated, gallant bow as his own eyes laughed silently in return.
The merry strains of dancing music floated from Anvard's Great Hall towards the stars strewn diamond-like across the indigo velvet sky. Inside the castle, warm light spilled from the windows along with the sounds of laughter as the Archen Court celebrated the arrival of a new and promising year.
However, one curl-adorned head was not spinning with merriment and music in the Great Hall.
"Is anything the matter, Juliana?" A girl in lavender satin inquired of the rather sullen figure clothed in blood-red silk and gold.
"The spoiled little princess has not left his side this entire evening, Catherine," Juliana replied tersely, her green eyes darkening and glaring over her wine glass as the blue-clad object of her frustration whirled with Galen to the lively music.
"Oh. I see."
"Lion's mane, does he not tire of her? She always messes things up! Every single time!" The green-eyed girl continued in her ranting as her friend tried to interject. "Have you found out anything today, Catherine?"
"Well, Juliana, I heard it from one of my most reliable sources that Sir Galen and the princess spent the afternoon Aslan-knows-where out exploring the forests and only returned a few hours ago."
"Catherine," the crimson-clothed girl began in even, steel-laced tones, her eyes darkening even more (if that was possible), "this is not acceptable. She has interfered with me for the last time."
"Oh, Juliana?" Her companion asked, a much too eager glint entering her pale eyes. "What have you got planned, this time?" She finished excitedly, almost greedily.
"Well, if my little campaign fails to catch him at tonight's ball, I shall come up with something intriguing to occupy our dear Princess's time. Yes, Catherine, do let your scheming mind begin thinking. I shall return presently," Juliana replied, her eyes no longer dark with sulking as the characteristic cat-like glint came back into them.
At this moment, Galen and Lyra had ceased dancing for a little bit and stood sampling the finger food and chatting.
"What sort of bow to you prefer, Sir Galen?"
"Oh, I have always been partial to a good longbow, but a recurve is not bad at all when mounted."
"I agree. My longbow has ever served me well, but my recurve is just the thing when hunting on horseback. What about crossbows?"
"Dreadful things. I've only tried to use one once, and it was so ridiculously bulky and difficult to reload. Why, my enemy would be upon me in a trice before I could reload!"
"Oh, certainly," Lyra laughed. "They aren't about to win any awards for speed and agility."
Galen smiled, but did not reply as he had taken a rather large bite of a most delicious cookie.
"Sir Galen," Lyra glanced over his shoulder, then began in lower, more measured tones, "Our little scheming lady is approaching, and very likely means to get you to herself. If you, my good sir, would rather that not happen, just follow my lead."
Galen nodded, as an unexpected knot of nervousness settled in his stomach. A moment later, Lady Juliana slipped into their company.
"Good evening, Sir Galen, your highness," she greeted.
"Good evening, Juliana," Lyra returned, and Galen nodded (he was still finishing the last bite of his cookie).
"'Tis a lovely ball, and a lovely new year, is not?" Juliana began in a relaxed manner.
"Indeed, my lady," Galen finally answered.
"Ah, but your highness does us a disservice," Juliana began in jesting tones, looking at Lyra.
"I am sure I have no idea what you mean, Juliana."
"Why, in keeping the good Sir Galen to yourself for so long, of course," Juliana replied with a smile.
"Oh, of course, my lady Juliana," Lyra returned, "but the time flies so fast, you see, and I am afraid Sir Galen has just requested the next dance. If you will excuse us," Lyra finished, nodding to Juliana and extending a hand to Galen. The pair danced away from Juliana, and Galen sighed with relief.
"That was not too bad."
"Oh, that will not work again, I am afraid," Lyra replied as they continued the waltz. "Juliana can get very pushy."
"That does not sound promising, my lady," Galen said. "As loath as I am to admit it, I fear her more than the whole of Telmar!"
Lyra laughed. "'Tis no mystery why, good sir. All Telmar's weapons are of steel, while hers are far more subtle. You need not worry, Sir Galen. If she comes again, just remember our little plan," Lyra finished with a carefree smile.
"I shall," Galen began, but stopped mid-sentence. "It seems we shall have need of the plan far sooner than expected."
A moment after he finished speaking, Juliana came from behind and lay her gloved hand on Lyra's arm.
"By your leave, your highness."
"Of course, my lady," Lyra returned with a nod, then moved back to the refreshment table and picked up her wine glass.
Meanwhile, Juliana and Galen continued dancing.
"I hope you are enjoying the Archen Court, Sir Galen," she began.
"Indeed, my lady, it is a unique experience."
"Ah, yes, indeed. The pinnacle of civilization, it has been called."
"Yes, well, I….." Galen clutched his side and trailed off into a moan, coming to a halt and half collapsing a moment later. Juliana let out a slight shriek.
"Sir Galen, what ails you?"
Galen, head bowed, did not reply. Lyra stood beside him in a flash, her healer's instinct ever present. Putting an arm around him to help him stand, she started when her fingers came away stained with red. Juliana looked on, a slight expression of horror on her face.
"What happened?" The startled lady asked.
"It seems the dancing has re-opened a wound from the battle," Lyra answered, helping Galen stand.
"I'll be alright, my lady, I just...hmmm," Galen trailed off into a slight moan again.
"Come now, sir, you have had enough excitement for one night, I warrant," Lyra chided.
"Is he going to be alright?" Juliana inquired.
"Yes, my lady. Sir Galen merely needs to rest."
"My thanks for the dance, Lady Juliana," Galen said, inclining his head with a wince. Juliana returned a curtsey and expressed her hope that he would feel better soon.
Galen and Lyra moved away and exited the Great Hall, walking towards the infirmary. Once they were finally out of sight of any passersby, Lyra stopped the pretense of helping him and the both of them almost collapsed in a fit of laughter.
"Did you see her face, my lady?"
"Indeed. The silly girl knows not the difference between blood and a little spilt wine," Lyra laughed in return, holding up her stained fingers, which were more purple now than red.
"I do feel a little bad, though, tricking her so."
"Oh, do not feel thusly, my good sir. We gave her but a tiny taste of the foul dish she has served out in exceeding abundance."
Lyra and Galen kept walking out on the parapet. While the merry ball continued, the two spent the rest of the evening gazing at the stars from the southeast turret.
"Methinks we have the better part of this night, my lady," Galen remarked as he stared up at the shimmering bands of light spread out on the darkened canvas before them.
"Indeed," was all Lyra said in reply, taking a deep, contented breath of cool air.
In this way passed a space of time in contented silence, until the light from the windows below began to taper off and the two realized the hour grew late.
"I did want to thank you, my lady Lyra," Galen began as they walked back into the castle.
"Oh, 'twas nothing, my good sir. I quite enjoyed bursting Juliana's petty little bubble," Lyra replied with a smile, which Galen returned. "I will warn you though, sir, that I will be calling in the favor," she continued. "I was not jesting last week when I mentioned the Calormene ambassador."
"I am at your disposal, fair lady," Galen bowed with a flourish and a grin. Lyra laughed in return.
"Then it shall be I who will be indebted to you in a little space of time. Calormenes make Juliana look almost pleasant."
"Then it sounds like it shall be interesting, for sure," Galen answered. They continued walking, and presently approached Galen's room.
"Good night, my lady," Galen began, taking Lyra's hand and kissing it lightly. "And thank you."
"'Twas my pleasure," Lyra replied, inclining her head and smiling sincerely. "Good night."
"Catherine!" A sharp voice echoed on the fire-lit stone walls of a richly decorated bedroom.
"Juliana? What is the matter, friend?"
"I trust you know what happened. We must resort to a more offensive strategy."
"Yes, that was unfortunate for Sir Galen to collapse at so inopportune a time."
"Indeed, but our battle is not over yet. I can still get my little Narnian, if only our dear princess will get out of my way," Juliana fumed, contempt filling her voice as she referred to to Lyra.
"What can be done, though?"
"We will just have to make her get out of the way." Silence filled the room for a moment.
"Ah!" Catherine exclaimed. "I had almost forgotten! The ambassador from Calormen arrives on the morrow. Word has it that he is a moderately high-ranking prince, and has had an eye on our dear princess for some time."
Juliana's eyes lit up greedily at Catherine's words. "That will do nicely, Catherine! We mustn't let the good Calormene prince go away empty-handed, after all."
2 Mayblossom 2076
"There they are!" Ayden pointed to the east where several bright red pennants emerged from the forest.
"I wish they weren't," was Lyra's response. "Calormenes," she wrinkled her nose.
"Come, now, sister, it is only the ambassador. He'll not bother you."
"Nay, you underestimate him, brother. The ambassador has been replaced with one of the Calormene princes - Prince Karim."
"Oh," Ayden answered, wincing.
Trumpets blared from the turrets.
"We had best go meet our guests."
Galen, Ayden, and Lyra entered the Great Hall together and took their places in the Court. A single clarion announced the Calormenes' arrival. A moment later a richly arrayed procession entered Anvard's Hall and approached the dais where King Lorn and Queen Leila sat. Brilliant purples, crimsons, canary yellow, and cerulean blue flashed from every person who entered. Jewels and feathers, velvet and organza, gold and silver proclaimed with usual pomposity the arrival of a prince of Calormen. The prince himself entered a moment later and approached the dais, the members of his party bowing as he passed. He wore a bright red tunic heavily embroidered with gold scrolling patterns, yellow trousers, and instead of boots he wore a pair of curious bejeweled slippers that turned up at the toe. The prince was tall, with dark eyes and even darker hair, and around his neck hung a long golden chain, from which was suspended a large ruby.
The prince stepped up towards the dais and bowed in the Calormene fashion.
"Prince Karim, it is Our pleasure to welcome you and your entourage to Anvard," King Lorn began. "We trust your highness's travels passed well?"
"Your majesty is most kind. Indeed our travels through your majesty's lovely land passed most pleasantly, but the kindness of your majesty's welcome brings relief from the passing fatigue of the road. As the poets declared, "By gracious words does a host give succor to the weary.""
"Indeed." Queen Leila replied. "May I present Prince Ayden and Princess Lyra?"
Ayden bowed and Lyra curtseyed in turn, as Galen watched with raised eyebrows. This prince was an interesting little figure, to be sure.
Prince Karim bowed again. "Prince Ayden, it is most agreeable to see you again. Princess Lyra, I would travel the desert a hundred times over to have the pleasure of seeing your lovely smile again."
"As eloquent as ever, I see, your highness. My thanks," Lyra replied, cooly inclining her head.
Galen fought back a stubborn chuckle. Just as he managed to transform it into a relatively unobtrusive cough, King Lorn introduced him to the object of his amusement.
"Prince Karim, may I introduce your highness to Archenland's friend, Sir Galen of Narnia?"
Galen bowed, a gesture returned by the prince.
"I am sure your highness must be weary," King Lorn continued, motioning for a servant. "Show the prince and his entourage to their quarters."
With a bow and a flourish, the Calormene prince left the room and his colorful entourage followed. The Court adjourned and the Archen nobles dispersed.
"I see what you meant about Calormenes, my lady. Frilly, pompous fellow, isn't he?" Galen remarked.
"If only that was the worst of his faults," Lyra replied quietly, turning towards the courtyard and absentmindedly grasping her sword hilt.
Looking back as the last feathered person disappeared around the staircase corner, Galen thought that he had never been more thankful to not be something than he was right now.
Please let me know what you think! Thanks for reading!