AN: Merry Christmas, dear readers! So much has happened this semester that I had hardly the chance to catch my breath, but with Christmas comes the opportunity to write. This chapter took me in a different direction than I expected, but it does further my intended themes and overall plot, so it isn't altogether pointless. I hope you all enjoy it!
Disclaimer: For the record, I do not own Narnia (pity), and no copyright infringement on those who do is intended.
Chapter the Fifteenth: An Unexpected Adventure
The next morning dawned clear and cool, sunlight filtering through the treetops to greet the bright ring of steel on steel as it echoed against Anvard's stone walls. At this early hour, although the rest of Anvard preferred to slumber, Archenland's prince and princess practiced. Parry and strike, now forwards, now back-the brother and sister swung their swords with the measured movements that evinced years of training. A hint of a smile played at the corners of the brother's lips, his dark green eyes calm, even serene, despite the swift movements of his keen blade. His sister smiled unreservedly and her eyes sparkled with azure fire-confident and unafraid, focused on each precise strike and reveling in the thrill of combat. On mornings such as these, time seemed to stand still, and the sun hesitated to burst in full golden radiance above the tree tops.
Slowly, though, Anvard awoke, and the clear ring of the blacksmith's hammer joined the ring of the siblings' swords. As Archenland's knights began to enter the grassy area beside the castle, Ayden and Lyra called a truce.
"Well-fought, brother," said Lyra as she replaced her sword in its scabbard.
"Likewise, sister," Ayden returned, an uncharacteristically impish grin on his face as he reached over and tugged the end of Lyra's golden braid as she turned away.
"Ow! Ayden!" She cried, rewarding her brother's impudence with a swift hit to his arm.
"Lyra, that hurt!" Her brother protested.
"As well it should have! Pray tell, what else didst thou expect, brother?" Lyra returned with a broad smile.
"What else, indeed. Good morn, sister, I had best see to the knights' drills before the morning grows late," replied Ayden, giving Lyra a quick hug before running off to join Anvard's knights.
"Good morn, my lady!" A cheerful voice hailed, and Lyra turned towards its source.
"Good morn, Sir Galen!" She returned as the Narnian entered the yard.
"Quite a fearsome pair you two make, my lady," Galen remarked, to which Lyra smiled.
"There is still time before breakfast. Would you care to join me in practice?"
"I would like nothing more, my lady," Galen replied, smiling.
"Wonderful!" returned Lyra, drawing her sword and holding it in salute. Galen drew his sword as well, returning her salute. The sun flashed off Lyra's blade as she swiftly dropped the salute and struck towards Galen. With the resounding peal of steel meeting steel, he parried the blow and made one of his own, and a duel was on, blades a-whirling.
"You certainly do not play at trifles when it comes to swordplay, my lady," he commented as their blades locked together for a moment. Lyra merely smiled, broke the contact of their swords and swung again, slashing towards the side. Galen met the strike and attacked in turn, and a good amount of time passed in this manner, neither making headway. Then, Galen seized a second's opportunity, twisting his sword around in a trick of Narnian swordplay that caused Lyra's sword to fly from her grasp and herself to fall down.
"Yield, my lady?" Galen asked, grinning triumphantly. Lyra looked back at Galen from the dirt, fiery eyes refusing to admit defeat. Before Galen could realize it, she twisted her legs around and swept his feet out from under him. Quick as a wink, she seized her own sword, regained her footing and pinned down Galen sword arm with a foot.
"Never!" she exclaimed triumphantly. "Yield, good knight?"
Galen smiled, and inclined his head. "Well played, my lady. I yield."
"Then I will let you up on two conditions-first, that you teach me that trick you used, and second, that you call me by my name," she replied, smiling.
"Agreed, Lyra, as long as, of your courtesy, you do the same as regards myself," Galen agreed.
"Very well, Galen. Well-fought!" Lyra replied, removing her foot from his sword-arm, sheathing her sword, and offering a hand to help him up. "I've never encountered the technique with which you disarmed me. Is it uniquely Narnian?"
"Yes. More specifically, it is unique to the Centaurs. You have a nifty trick of your own, though. I must confess it was quite unexpected."
"Aye," Lyra laughed, "it has saved both my life and my pride on many an occasion. All you have to do is brace against the ground, angle yourself away from the direction of the swing, then swing a leg with all the weight you can manage and strike directly behind your opponent's knees-they cannot help but fall."
"Ah, I see," Galen replied. "The trick of swordplay I used earlier was one of the favorite techniques of my teacher, Swordmaster Achaicus. It takes a fair amount of practice to master, but is well worth the effort," Galen continued as he began to demonstrate, and all too soon the morning began to slip away.
"Thank you for showing me, Galen. I must attend to the drills of the archers, now, before the morning waxes late," Lyra spoke after a while.
"Certainly. Good match!"
"Indeed. Good morning!"
Lyra returned her sword to its sheath, picked up her bow and quiver from where they stood beside the courtyard wall, and made her way towards the archery practice field. After she had gone, Galen began walking absentmindedly, finding himself walking on the east parapet and staring out across the forest, deep in thought, admiring the morning. After a little while, he became restless and began walking the interior of the castle, finding himself outside the room of the Stone Knife. From within, he could hear the low murmur of a voice. Puzzled, Galen hurried inside, and what he found astonished him. A woman was kneeling on the floor, her head bowed, murmuring what sounded like a prayer.
"Oh!" The woman started when Galen entered, eyes wide with fear, and threw herself on the floor at Galen's feet. "Forgive me, my lord! I know I should not have entered the castle without invitation, but I was so desperate for help, and, I..."
"Peace, my lady!" Galen exclaimed, confused, and the woman stopped speaking but did not pick herself up. The Narnian knelt down on the floor next to her and helped her sit up. "Here, now. You need not treat yourself thusly. What on earth has frightened you?" He asked.
The woman stood, avoiding his gaze, and Galen noticed immediately that she was not of the Anvard court-her brown dress was worn and plain, and her dark hair was tied behind her head with a worn leather strip. The boots on her feet were splattered with mud and cracked with age and wear.
"I am sorry, my lord. Please, let me go," she pleaded.
"Who are you, and why are you frightened of me?" Galen further inquired, as confused as ever.
"My name is Tira, and I am from the village near Anvard. I know I should not have dared enter the castle, but there have been stories told of the Stone Knife in the villages-that it could help those who had no hope. I am such a person, so I came here to pray so that the Stone Knife could help me. I thought you were a guard come to drag me away."
"Nay, lady, I would not drag you away. But the Stone Knife is merely an object," he continued, puzzling, "what good could be gained from praying to it? Who would spread such tales? The Stone Knife is a very special thing indeed, but it has neither mind nor breath nor power of its own."
The woman began to shudder, and tears rolled down her cheeks. "Then I am truly without hope."
"Tell me of your troubles," said Galen gently, taking one of her hands in his. Tira looked up, and briefly met his gaze before dropping her eyes to the ground again.
"My son was attacked by a wolf several days ago. The village healer has done all he can, yet still my dear little Brennan grows weaker by the day. The healer says he will not last the week," she finished, her voice heavy and eyes filling with tears again.
"How dreadful, lady, I am truly sorry," Galen replied. "Come-I will do what I can to help you. Save your prayers for Aslan," he continued after a moment.
Galen stood, helping her stand as well, and quickly walked towards the outside of the castle.
"Wait here. I'll be back in a moment," Galen said when they reached the practice yard. Galen hurried over to where Lyra was putting away the arrows and dismissing her archers.
"My lady, a moment?"
"Certainly, Galen," Lyra put down the quiver in her hands and joined him. "Is anything the matter?"
"I found a woman from a village in the Gallery of the Stone Knife. She says her little boy is dying, victim of a wolf attack, and I thought you might be able to help more than the village healer."
"Say no more, my friend," Lyra answered, seeing Tira beyond him. "Let me retrieve my supplies, and I shall meet you at the stables-if you would be so kind as to see to horses."
Galen nodded, and returned to Tira, as Lyra hurried into the castle.
"Take heart, Tira. Princess Lyra is a skilled healer and if anyone can help your son, she can."
Tira's eyes lit up hopefully. Galen smiled encouragingly and made his way, Tira in tow, towards the stables.
"Aiolos! Are you here, friend?"
"Galen! What a mercy you are here. By the Lion, it is so dull around here!"
"Care for an outing?" Galen asked, grinning.
"Anywhere is better than this stable," Aiolos snorted. Galen opened the stall door and Aiolos stepped out.
"Tira, I would like to introduce you to a friend of mine-Aiolos Swifthoof of the Shuddering Wood."
"Pleasure to meet you, lady!" Aiolos greeted, as Galen led Lyra's horse out of its stall and saw to its saddling.
Tira stood a ways back, eyes wide. After a moment, she shyly curtsied.
"Pleasure to meet you, master Horse." After a thoughtful pause, she turned back to Galen. "Then would you be Sir Galen, from Narnia?"
"Aye, lady," he answered simply, finishing his work readying the horses. At that moment, Lyra poked her head around the stable door.
"Ready, Galen?"
"Just about."
"Here-let me take Thunderhoof's reins," she offered, leading her horse outside the stable, and Galen, Aiolos, and Tira followed.
"Lyra, let me introduce you to Tira," Galen began.
"Your highness," Tira curtsied deeply.
"It is a pleasure to meet you, lady. I only wish it were under more pleasant circumstances," Lyra answered, nodding to the woman whose face took on a more somber expression, and mounted her horse. Galen followed suit.
"Come," Lyra extended a hand. "Ride with me. I will do everything I can to help."
Tira smiled shyly, grasped Lyra's offered hand and swung up behind her. Lyra spurred her mount onward, and Aiolos followed. The two horses galloped away from Anvard towards the south, through the greening forest for at least three-quarters of an hour, until they reached a little ridge where the foursome found themselves overlooking a village nestled in a little valley.
"My home is the house between the well and the smithy-the one with the daffodils beneath the window."
"A lovely home, lady," Lyra replied. "You walked a very long way."
"For a chance-any chance-of something to help Brennan, I would have walked twice, thrice, that distance."
"You remind me of my mother, when I was a mere foal," Aiolos whinnied in a wistful sort of chuckle.
The foursome continued to the specified house, where the humans dismounted and the horses stayed where they were. Tira opened the door and invited the visitors in.
"Tira! I've been worried sick, love! Where've you been?" A voice sounded, and a man hurried from a back room.
"Jonas, these have come to help Brennan. I could not sit by and watch him die," Tira replied, laying one hand on her husband's shoulder and motioning with the other towards Lyra and Galen.
"I should've known," Jonas chuckled, embracing his wife, eyes wet with unshed tears. Turning towards the visitors, he said, "Whoever you are, if you can help Brennan, you are welcome in our home."
"Princess Lyra, Sir Galen, please come," she entreated. Her husband was startled by the names, but kept quiet. Lyra followed, Galen behind her, as Tira led them into another room.
The room was dark, and a single candle flickered on the table beside the bed, sending shadows dancing across the rough surface of the wood paneled walls. On the single bed, covered in blankets, lay a young boy no older than ten. Tira knelt next to the bed and gently stroked the boy's forehead. In response, he turned toward her and moaned weakly.
"Mama?"
"Sshh, Brennan. Everything is alright. I've brought someone to help you feel better."
Lyra stepped forward and handed her satchel to Galen. Tira moved away, and Lyra sat beside the bed. Raising the back of her hand to the boy's forehead, her brow furrowed.
"He burns with fever. How long?"
"Four days now."
"How many wounds did the wolf give him?"
"Many. At least six great gashes and several severe bites."
Lyra did not reply, rather, she unrolled a bandage from the boy's forearm, revealing a nasty gash, teeth marks and signs of infection obvious. She took her satchel back from Galen and looked within it for a moment.
"Tira, could you bring a cup of warm water?" Lyra requested, looking back towards her.
"Certainly. I'll be right back."
Tira returned presently with the water, and Lyra dissolved a powder in the water.
"Here," she offered the cup to Tira. "Could you have him drink this? It will help him and I think he would take it better from you."
Tira complied, placing her hand behind his head. After he was finished, Lyra took Tira by the hand and led her outside the room.
"His wounds are severe, and the infection would have claimed him in two days' time. What I gave him will help him sleep, and allow me to better help him. You need rest too, though, lady. Have a cup of tea and rest a while. I will call you when I am finished."
Tira nodded, choking back tears.
"Do not worry, lady. Aslan will see him through," Lyra smiled encouragingly before returning to the room. Brennan lay fast asleep, his little hand in Galen's. The Narnian smiled at her and gingerly extricated himself from the boy's grasp. Lyra took his place beside the bed and bade him help her. She then set to work cleaning and re-bandaging the wounds as best she could. Once she finished, Lyra and Galen left the little room and rejoined his parents.
"How is he?" Tira asked quickly.
"He is resting peacefully. I have cleaned and bandaged his wounds to the best of my present ability, but he is far from well. If he is to have a good chance of surviving, he should return with us to Anvard. There I have more resources with which to treat him and ensure a good recovery. You would both be welcome to come with him, providing you wish to allow the journey.
"Of course," Jonas nodded, glancing at his wife. "Thank you."
"I'll go with Brennan," Tira addressed her husband.
"We'll both go," he countered. "I have no duties at the smithy that cannot wait, especially now. I will ready the horse and cart."
Tira nodded and hurried to pack a satchel, Lyra returned to the bedroom to ready Brennan, and Galen went outside to ready the horses.
"What of the young one, Galen?" Aiolos inquired.
"He is very ill. We are to take him with us to Anvard."
"I hope he will be alright."
"Me too," Galen replied, looking out to the forest. All of a sudden, he felt an eerie feeling that sent shivers up his spine. Disregarding it as the slight chill in the spring air, he walked back inside. Jonas had hitched the family's horse to a rough wooden cart half-full with straw, which was covered with several blankets. Galen ducked inside, where Tira was quickly extinguishing the candles and fireplace, and Lyra was carrying a blanket-wrapped Brennan out of the back room. Galen took Brennan from Lyra and placed him gently in the cart. Tira hopped in beside her son, while Galen and Lyra mounted their horses and the party began for Anvard.
In the quiet of the forest, the only sounds the creaking of the trees and cart wheels, Galen kept thinking back to what Tira had said in the Gallery of the Stone Knife-she had been praying, not to Aslan, but to the Knife that had seen His death. Galen knew not what to make of this, and puzzled for a while, a dark knot of unsettledness plaguing his mind. After a while, he felt the same eerie shiver race up his spine, and Lyra's horse momentarily shied away from the nearest tree.
"Galen, there is something stalking us," said Aiolos in a low voice.
"I was afraid of that, my friend. Something has not been right."
"Two, no, four. Now six. Six four-footed creatures," Aiolos counted, his superior hearing detecting the minute noises the animals made as they tracked the party.
"Lyra, to arms! We are being tracked," Galen warned in a low voice. Lyra's hand flew to her sword hilt.
Before she could reply, a great grey snarling mass of fur and teeth flew from the forest and plowed into the Archenlander, knocking her off her horse and to the ground with a ferocious growl. Simultaneously, several other wolves flew from the brush-one attacking Lyra's horse, which proceeded to bolt, and two others attacking Galen and Aiolos. Galen managed to draw his sword in time, striking the two wolves mid-leap as they tried to do the same to him as they had done to Lyra. The air filled with howls and cries as the other wolves attacked the cart. Jonas managed to keep the horse from bolting, and Tira brandished a knife in an attempt to keep the creatures at bay. Aiolos turned and hurried back towards the cart, and Galen slashed at one of the attacking wolves.
Lyra, meanwhile, struggled with her wolf, all her strength spent keeping the snarling mouth of teeth away whilst the sharp claws dug into her shoulder. With her other arm, she managed to reach the knife kept in her boot. A moment later, Lyra pushed the dead canine off of her and struggled to her feet as Galen finished off one of the wolves near the cart. He did not see the other behind the cart, and with a savage growl it leapt towards him. Before Galen could turn around, one last whimper rent the air as Lyra's now-airborne knife found its mark. As suddenly as the fracas began was it ended, and the forest was now eerily silent, save the belabored breathing of the humans and horses.
"This will not be the end, human," a gravelly voice broke the silence as the wolf nearest Galen struggled back to its feet, favoring its wounded side.
"You...you are Narnian Wolf?" Galen stammered, blade at the ready. "Why are you here, what happened that you would attack us, attack this little boy as well?"
"Humans are the enemy," he panted, yellow eyes glaring at its fellow Narnian. "They enslaved Narnia, enslaved us all. They deserve to die."
"Archenland did not enslave us. Why would you attack those who were our friends?"
The wolf shuddered with anger and snarled, falling back to the ground as its wound worsened. "My pack followed the Telmarine invaders south, and when we could terrorize them no more, we turned to exact retribution on those who did nothing to help us even as Narnia fell. Archenland," he panted, "is no better than Telmar. The deserve every thing we have given and more." The wolf's breathing became more stilted and shallow. "You, too, have betrayed us, human. Are...no...better...than...they…." the wolf gasped. His head dropped back to the mossy ground, fiery yellow eyes extinguished. The party looked on in astonishment, and Galen found himself staring at the wolf in horror, almost sick to his stomach.
"Galen," Lyra laid her right hand on his shoulder, "Let's go."
Galen glanced back at her and absentmindedly nodded. He moved away from the cart and re-mounted Aiolos, still distracted by the words of the Narnian wolf.
"It seems my mount has departed before us," Lyra remarked. "Good Horse, would you mind carrying another?"
"Not at all, lady," Aiolos inclined his head and Galen, shaking himself, reached down and grasped her left hand. A low, pained moan escaped her clenched teeth as she swung up behind him. Startled, Galen found his hand sticky with blood, and turned around to see her arm hanging limply beside her, the shoulder and sleeve of her green shirt darkened and wet.
"You're wounded!"
"The wolf got its claws into my shoulder before I could kill it. It is nothing that will not heal," she replied tersely, pressing a cloth from her bag to the gashes left by the wolf's claws.
As the sun reached its zenith behind the cloudy sky, the party continued its way to Anvard without further incident. They finally emerged from the trees and could see the towers of Anvard rising from the hills. In a few moments, the party entered the castle courtyard and a worried-looking figure hurried towards them.
"Sister, where hast thou been?" Exclaimed Ayden. "Your horse returned riderless an hour ago, and we knew not where you went!"
Lyra gingerly dismounted. "Do not worry, brother."
"Not worry? You are gone for half a day without telling anyone and come back wounded, your arm dripping blood, and you tell me not to worry?" Ayden fairly squeaked.
"Galen found a woman begging help for her son, who is dying of a wolf attack. We went to the village to help, and were attacked by the same rogue pack on the way back home. Now, please cease your hovering, brother. I am fine. The wound is not as severe as it may seem, and I have other matters to which to attend," Lyra answered calmly, maneuvering around Ayden and back towards the cart, thanking Aiolos for his help as she did.
"Danny!" she called for the stablehand. "See that these good people's horse and cart are well cared for."
The stablehand nodded and took the reins from Jonas. Galen was already back behind the cart, helping Tira unload their precious cargo, and Lyra joined them.
"Come, friends, bring him and follow me."
The boy's father picked him up and they began to make their way into the castle, up the stairs, and to the infirmary where Brennan was deposited on a soft bed in an inner room. Lyra then went back out to the hallway and addressed a guard.
"Please see to it that these good people are given chambers and anything that they require," she instructed, and the guard nodded in response.
"Do not worry, I'll make sure he is receives the care he needs, and he will be fine," she reassured with a smile.
"Thank you, my lady," Tira spoke suddenly as Lyra turned to re-enter the infirmary. She smiled in return, and the guard led the couple down the corridor as Lyra returned to the infirmary.
Galen was still there, leaning up against the wall.
"Is there anything I can do to help?" he asked.
"Thank you for offering, Galen. You could help me with the bandages," she replied softly, turning to the door of Brennan's room. She paused, however, hand still on the door knob and resting her forehead, eyes closed, against the door. Galen stood beside her and laid a hand on her uninjured shoulder.
"You should rest, my friend, and have your wounds attended before continuing on to help Brennan."
"Nay. He needs my help and my injuries can wait. I have endured worse on the battlefield and still managed to give aid to Archenland's soldiers."
"Lyra," Galen met her defiant gaze, "this is not a battlefield, and that boy needs you at your best. Besides," he smiled, "I recognize that excuse and manner as the one I use to disguise the severity of an injury and do what I like anyway, and I will not let you get away with it."
"Perhaps you are correct," she answered, "but I shall do as I like anyway," she looked back at him determined, but at that moment the infirmary door opened and Ayden entered.
"What, sister? Being stubborn as usual?" Ayden chided as he assessed the situation. Galen looked back at Ayden, exasperation in his eyes, and Ayden needed no more prompting.
"Come on, Lyra," Ayden put an arm around her waist and seized her right arm, pulling her towards the nearest cot despite her protests. "I'm as stubborn as you, and I'll not leave you alone until someone sees to your injury," he insisted, and she only glared. After calling for some of the other healers, he looked back at Lyra and chuckled. "You really do look a sight, sister."
"Always the encouraging one, brother," she replied wryly.
Ayden did not reply, and Galen could not help but smile. Two of the castle healers walked into the room, and Ayden instructed one to attend to Brennan and the other to Lyra.
"And don't let her do anything until that injury is properly tended and she had had a good cup of tea!" he added, turning to the door and motioning Galen to follow. The two boys stepped out into the corridor and began walking away from the infirmary.
"I say!" Ayden exclaimed, looking at Galen. "You're quite a sight, yourself! Have you had anything to eat at all today?"
"Come to think of it, we did leave before breakfast."
"Well, then it is no wonder. Come on, let's get some lunch and you can tell me of today's adventure," Ayden smiled and let the way down to the kitchens.
"...and that is all that happened," Galen finished, munching heartily on a biscuit.
"What an adventure, I daresay! I wonder that there was such a wolf pack roaming those woods. There have never been problems with such wolves before," Ayden puzzled.
Galen was about to reply when an unpleasantly familiar voice interjected.
"Prince Ayden, Sir Galen, I could not help but overhear. Wolves in these woods, attacking people?"
"Lady Juliana, of course, please join us," Ayden invited, although his voice lacked its previous warmth. "Sir Galen and my sister had a bit of an adventure this morning, defending a family from a pack of ravenous wolves."
"Oh, do tell, Sir Galen! I have never heard of wolves in these woods, and it sounds so exciting! Where is the princess, though? Is she not here with you?" Juliana inquired politely, her voice more hopeful and curious than concerned.
"She suffered wounds in the engagement, and is recovering in the infirmary," Galen replied.
"Oh, how dreadful for our dear princess," Juliana replied, her voice concerned but her eyes glinting cat-like, and the corners of her mouth turning slightly upwards in a sly smile. "I certainly hope you are alright, good sir. What happened?"
"Nothing of great consequence, my lady. We went to help someone who needed it, and the wolves will not threaten anyone again."
"How magnanimous and brave!" Juliana exclaimed, but before she could ask any more questions, Lady Catherine caught her eye. "I must beg your pardon, good sirs," she excused herself, and went to join her friend. Galen and Ayden took the opportunity to scoop up the rest of the biscuits and scurry away while they had the chance.
"Fabulous news, Catherine!" Juliana exulted once out of earshot.
"Indeed, Juliana. Most fortunate."
"Our dear princess is wounded and cannot cause us problems for a little while!"
"Do not underestimate her, Juliana. From my information her wounds were not too serious, and, knowing her, she will continue to cause problems, even tonight."
"Then we will have to make sure that she is otherwise occupied, Catherine," Juliana continued, unfazed. "I have been speaking with Prince Karim's attendants. Apparently, the prince specifically requested the duty of ambassador from the Tisroc in order to have the opportunity to court our dear princess. It will be no great difficulty to keep her occupied with him. If she is receptive to his advances, we have no problem. If she is not, we will have to ensure that the prince does not give up."
"A good plan, my lady," Catherine smiled slyly.
"Remember, Catherine," Juliana spoke, "what we do is not merely for my benefit but for the benefit of us all. Our fathers may have power, but we must secure it for us ourselves and the Narnian gives us opportunity to seize it. There is no telling what position he may attain, what power attain, and with my hand to further and guide that power, we will all advance, I promise you."
That evening the entire court gathered for a banquet of welcome for Prince Karim. Music and laughter filled the Great Hall as those gathered partook of the bounty. Galen sat between Lyra and a lady in purple at the great table, while Prince Karim sat across from Lyra and between Juliana and Ayden.
"How are you doing, my lady?" Juliana began concernedly, making conversation as everyone ate. "I am surprised to see you up this evening."
"Why should you be surprised, Lady Juliana? I am perfectly well," Lyra replied calmly, taking a bite of buttered bread.
"I had it on good authority that you were gravely wounded by wolves this morning," Juliana replied.
"Wounded, perhaps, but to call such wounds grave is an exaggeration at the least," Lyra scoffed.
"Oh, how terrible that you were wounded at all, my lady," Prince Karim exclaimed, "for so lovely a flower to be so cruelly torn by bestial claws. Had I been there to protect you, my scimitar would have put swift end to the wolves afore they could dare touch a hair on your head, my lady. Have not the poets written, "Tis sorrow for beauty to see pain, and the protection of beauty is a man's greatest honor"?" He continued grandly.
"I am sure the poets have written thusly, my lord, but I daresay they did not have me in mind in the writing of it. I assure you, I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself. Were I not, I would not be sitting here," Lyra answered calmly and without looking up from her meal, although the tone of her voice took on a slight icy edge.
The Calormene continued to speak to Lyra, and Juliana took the opportunity to begin conversation with Galen.
"How do you like the festivities, Sir Galen?"
"I like them fine, my lady, although I would prefer something less formal."
"I can understand that. Is that why you have been wandering off of late? The court is beginning to chatter, I daresay!" she laughed.
"I suppose they have not much else to do."
"I suppose not. Say! I have an idea! I have been cooped up in this castle for so long, I would very much enjoy a ride about the countryside. Would you care to come with me?"
"Perhaps sometime, my lady, but I fear I have much to which to attend and may not be able to get away."
"We shall see, good sir!"
Outwardly, Galen nodded politely, but inwardly he was wishing for home and normal, decent people. 'Twas going to be a long night, he feared.
None too soon for Galen, the banquet party began to disperse and he found himself clustered with Lyra, Prince Karim, and Juliana outside the hall.
"I must bid you all a good evening," Lyra spoke, inclining her head.
"My lady, if you would permit me to see you safely to your chambers, it would be my honor to escort you," Prince Karim offered courteously.
"I thank you for your kind offer, my lord, but I will see you in the morning. I have other things which beg my attention at the moment."
"I look forward to tomorrow's dawning with even greater anticipation, then, if it carries with it the promise of seeing you once more," Prince Karim bowed, and turned to leave for his chambers.
Galen bade everyone else a good evening and hurried away before Juliana could speak to him again. Lyra, too, hurried away and turned towards the infirmary. As Juliana watched, Lyra faltered a little upon reaching the top of the staircase, her strength ebbing away as her wounded shoulder and the length of the day took their toll. Galen was quickly at her side, and Juliana found herself glaring as the two rounded the corner. Prince Karim noticed the brief episode as well, and Juliana took the opportunity to approach him unobserved by others of the court.
"Your highness, forgive my forwardness, but I could not help but notice your expression. Do not be discouraged by the princess's refusals. I know that she only says such things to preserve her reputation in the court and to test if you are as devoted as you say."
"Wise words, gracious lady, I thank you," the Calormene prince replied, eyes reflecting renewed determination as he bowed and turned to leave. The corners of Juliana's mouth flicked upwards in her cat's smile as she ascended to her room.
AN: I wish you all a blessed and happy Christmas. The next chapter is well on its way, so you should have another to greet the new year.
Please review! It's the best Christmas present an authoress could receive!