AN: This chapter was entirely too much fun to write. I hope it is as much fun for you, dear readers. I am looking forward to writing the next ones. I do so love Christmas break! That, and my family decided to put in new floors and I have locked myself in my room to get away from the dust (I have found I am not a great friend of cement grinders). Anyway, it is a little shorter than the last, but I hope you enjoy it all the same.

Disclaimer: Narnia isn't mine. See previous chapters.

Chapter the Seventeenth: Faith

"For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith—and this is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God— not by works, so that no one can boast." ~Ephesians 2: 8-9

5 Mayblossom 2076

A soft knock sounded at the door. A turbaned servant answered it and bowed lowly as Lady Juliana entered.

"Ah, my lady, how gracious of you to join me," Prince Karim greeted. "Pray be seated. Would you care for some spiced tea? It is how we begin a day in my land."

"How kind. I would indeed," Juliana replied, settling herself on the sofa across from the prince, who waved a servant forward. The servant placed a curiously wrought tea set on the coffee table and poured two cups, bowed, and left the room.

"See that we are not disturbed," the prince ordered.

"Have you considered my offer, my lady?"

"I have. I would enjoy nothing more than to see our dear princess in your arms and out of my hair. How may I be of service, your highness?" She answered with a sly smile, sipping the spicy tea.

"Can I assume, then, o gracious lady, that you have no great love of your princess?"

"She has given me no reason to hold her in high esteem, my lord, but has instead won my enmity."

"Indeed," the prince smiled. "Then you will have little qualm in doing what I ask. I will come to the point, my lady. I intended to make the princess my wife, regardless of her own desires."

"So an abduction it is to be, then," Juliana answered calmly, green eyes glinting with cunning as she took another sip of tea.

"I knew so clever a lady as yourself would have no trouble understanding. I would prefer to call it, though, a raid to claim the spoils of adventure befitting the Tisroc's (may he live forever) son."

"Then I have just the idea for you, my lord. Listen carefully…."

The morning passed uneventfully for Galen. After having breakfast with Lyra and Ayden, he found himself walking the battlements, pondering the words of Brennan's mother crediting the well-being of her son to the Stone Knife. Galen did not know what to think, but every time he thought of people praying to or worshiping, not Aslan, but an inanimate object (however special it was) he felt a dark knot of foreboding settle in his heart, whispering this is wrong.

The rest of the day also passed in like manner, and Brennan grew stronger as the day went on. Lyra determined that he was well enough to travel home that afternoon, and with great happiness and joyful farewells, the little family departed for their village. Galen, Lyra, and Ayden saw them safely through the woods in case there were more of the wolves still lingering there, and by supper time all had a marvelous appetite.

The court was joined for another state banquet, which progressed much better than Galen had expected. Prince Karim left Lyra alone, and Juliana left him alone, which suited Galen just fine.

Towards the end of the meal, Prince Karim stood up.

"O my hosts, I and my party thank you greatly for the hospitality you have bestowed upon us. However, I have regrettably received word that I am needed in Tashbaan and must return two mornings hence. Calormen extends its thanks and friendship."

"We accept both thanks and friendship, and Archenland extends such of her own. We thank you, Prince Karim, and send our wish that you have an untroubled journey," Queen Layla replied with a nod.

As dinner progressed, Galen thought he would be very glad to have the Calormenes gone.

6 Mayblossom 2076

Lyra, Galen, Ayden, and several other Archen knights were practicing early the next morning, and Ayden was in the middle of teaching Galen the skill of wielding two swords at once when a commotion reached their ears.

"I say, what is going on over there?" Ayden asked.

"I am sure I don't know," his sister replied, and Galen suggested that they go look.

Entering the courtyard, the three saw that the noise originated from a line of peasantry that stretched from the door of the castle.

"Good sir!" Galen called to one going to join the line. "A moment, if you please! Why is everyone gathering?"

"You've not heard, young master?" The farmer replied incredulously.

"Nay, we've not."

"Why, everyone is here to see the Stone Knife. Word has it that it saved the nation from invasion last month, and only yesterday healed a little boy on the brink of death! Such a wondrous thing, we've all come, that by catching a glimpse our troubles might be helped."

"I see," Galen replied, suddenly serious.

"Galen, what troubles you?" Lyra asked.

"They have credited the Stone Knife with miracles, and go to...to pray to it," he answered, voice confused. He looked up, eyes fiery. "This is wrong. I cannot prove it, but I cannot help but feel that this is wrong. Please excuse me, my friends," Galen finished, walked briskly to the stables, and ducked inside.

"Aiolos, would you mind taking a walk?"

"Of course not, my young friend. I've been cooped up in here for too long anyway."

The Horse and boy proceeded to exit the stable and walk towards the fields side by side.

"So, Galen, what is the matter in Anvard today?" Aiolos began after a moment of watching his young friend stare at the horizon.

"I have been wondering about many things today that trouble me."

"The wolves?"

"In part. They were Narnian. What could have possessed them to turn so, so savage?"

"I do not know. One thing I have been sad to observe in these years since the Telmarines invaded is that some of the Animals, so consumed with hatred, left the rest of the Narnians in hiding, becoming something between Talking Animal and savage brute. It is little wonder those Wolves acted thusly, and I fear what will happen to the rest of us if Telmar retains control of Narnia."

"Yet another thing Telmar has lain waste, then," Galen replied grimly, and Aiolos nodded silently.

"What else troubles you, young one?" The Horse asked after a moment.

"Well," answered Galen, turning to his friend, "the Archen Parliament has built a place for the Stone Knife to be kept, and-"

"Was not your goal to provide the Knife a place of safety?"

"Well, yes. But now people have begun to come from the countryside to pray to it, of all things. Not to Aslan, but to it. I cannot help feeling that this is wrong: the worship of something that is not Aslan. Though it represents the Lion's great love, I do not think it is a power in and of itself. I am sure that only Aslan, not His Knife, saved Anvard at the siege last month and healed little Brennan."

"I agree."

"I wish I knew what to do. I have entrusted the Knife to this kingdom, but I fear it is not a meet place for it, now that it has become something I know not what."

"Well, you can always take the Knife somewhere else," Aiolos suggested.

"That's true, but where? And what do I tell the Archenlanders? I am truly confounded."

"Trust in Aslan, Galen. These few weeks are not the limit of the destiny He has planned for you, and he will show you the way."

"I hope so, Aiolos. Sometimes I have stood by myself and wondered, questioned, and reasoned myself into frustration. I cannot seem to muster the faith I need to give what troubles me into Aslan's paws and I cannot figure it out on my own," the troubled knight continued.

"In my younger years, I faced the same problem," Aiolos replied quietly.

"Really?"

"Indeed, my friend. I questioned everything, and could not seem to cling to anything nor muster faith within me. Narnia was enslaved, and I could not understand why Aslan would let such a thing happen. What kind of god would allow anyone to suffer? How could I have faith in a god I had never seen? These questions and many more plagued me without rest."

"What answers did you find?"

"Well," the Horse answered, "One day something inside of me broke, and in frustration I told Aslan that He would have to show me the answers."

"And…"

"'Twas the best prayer I ever prayed, my friend. A few days later, at the Christmas festival, I was listening to the centaur story teller reciting the tale of the White Witch's defeat and the beginning of the Golden Age. As the centaur came to the part involving the laws of the Deep Magic and how Aslan gave His own life to save King Edmund, my mind was flooded with realizations that seemed to come from somewhere beyond myself. Aslan may not be a tame Lion, but He abides by the rules of the world He created. Aslan did not bypass the laws of the Deep Magic, but worked within them to accomplish good. He gave His own life, without reservation, to save the life of a proven traitor, even though He did not have to do so. Aslan neither caused nor designed any of the sufferings in the world. On the contrary, He would, and did, die to stop them."

"Please, continue," Galen entreated, thoroughly enthralled, when Aiolos paused.

"We have been given the gift of free will, and that free will to choose between good and evil is what allows the world's ills. To deny us that freedom would be to deny us the very essence of self. What good would the peace of a paradise do us then? It was then that I also realized that faith is a thing that I did not have to muster within my heart. I need only choose to accept Aslan's amazing love, and He would give me the faith I so needed and desired. That Christmas night marks the day my life truly began, and I cannot begin to express the peace Aslan has given me as a result," Aiolos continued as Galen continued walking in thoughtful silence. "You need only ask, Galen. Aslan will give you the faith to give your troubles to Him, and then He will care for every one of them."

"I think I understand, Aiolos. Thank you for telling me this," Galen said sincerely. "There are times that I cannot make sense of anything. There are also times, when I am very quiet, that I can feel Him speaking to me. A whisper on the wind, or a murmur that stirs my heart."

"That is exactly what I have experienced as well, my friend. Listen to that soft whisper, young one, for Aslan will prove the best friend you will ever have."

A cold wind rushed through the twilight air, but a warm fire crackled on the hearth of Galen's room. Masses of rain-heavy clouds gathered over the mountains, threatening to obscure the orange hues of sunset. Galen stood by the window of his room, pondering yet again. Aiolos' words echoed in his head. Could it really be so easy: to merely ask for the faith necessary to trust?

"Aslan," Galen found himself speaking, "I cannot find anything: neither faith nor direction nor anything else." The young knight felt himself kneeling on the cold stone floor. "Please, give me the faith to give my troubles unto Thee. Give me peace to sustain my spirit, guidance to show the way in which I should go, and the strength and courage to serve Thee to my dying breath."

A moment passed, and Galen drew a deep breath as he stood. As the air filled his lungs, warmth filled his heart and he felt inexplicably at peace. He could feel the Lion with him, and it made him feel extremely, contentedly happy.

Later that evening, the Archen court held a farewell banquet for Prince Karim, complete with a gloriously funny performance of the court jester troupe. Galen even found that he rather enjoyed it (especially given the occasion). Prince Karim said his goodbyes to the court, as he declared that the wagons were being prepared and he would be leaving before dawn to make good time back to Tashbaan. While everyone watched the final performance of the talented acrobats, no one saw as Juliana surreptitiously slipped a drop of liquid into Galen's glass. The acrobats finished their performance, final farewells were exchanged, and everyone promptly retired.

Galen found himself exceedingly tired, and tumbled into bed just as sleep overtook him.

Lyra, however, found herself unwilling to retire immediately and decided to walk along the battlements for a little while. The wind blew fitfully, and the storm clouds threatened to let loose their torrents, so Lyra ducked back inside the castle and returned to her room. Upon entering her room, she was puzzled to find a folded piece of paper lying on the floor in front of the door. She sat down on the settee, opened it, and began to read.

"My Lady,

I have something I dearly wish to discuss with you in private. Would you, of your courtesy, meet me below the throne room as soon as possible? It is quite important, but I do not wish to disturb the sleep of anyone in the castle.

~Sir Galen"

Puzzled, but curious, Lyra tucked the note into her pocket, left the room, and proceeded to the throne room. She still wore her dress from the banquet, but had her sword at her side, as usual, and her hand rested, out of habit, on the hilt. At the very back of the throne room and to the left was a little stairwell that led down to the rooms and tunnels beneath the castle. That particular stairwell was not well used, as it led down to tunnels beneath the castle, near the barrels of new wine, and no one had much of a reason to go down there. As a result, it was the ideal place to carry on a conversation one wished to remain private, or (Lyra recalled last year's confrontation with a certain green-eyed lady with amusement) conduct business where you did not want anyone to interfere or be heard. Coming to the base of the stairway, she found two torches already lit and placed in the sconces on the wall to the left. She turned down the corridor and into the wine room at the end, the torch light along the way flickering eerily. Lyra began to feel a little unsettled, and when she entered the wine room her feelings were confirmed. Instead of Galen, Lady Juliana waited beside the door.

"Lady Juliana, what is the meaning of this," Lyra asked in steel-girded tones.

"Princess Lyra," she answered, turning and closing the door, "I wished to speak with you about something of mutual concern, and did not think you would come if I asked it of you. I do need your help."

"So it was your hand that wrote this," Lyra tossed the note to the floor. "I thought I recognized the manner of writing. Very well, what do you want?"

Juliana smiled a very snaky smile, stepped forward, and whispered, "Something I have wanted for a very long time."

At that moment, two swarthy, turbaned men with bare scimitars in their hands entered.

"Traitoress!" Lyra exclaimed, drawing her blade with a swift ring of steel. "I knew you to be power-hungry and devious, but I thought you at least would have some loyalty to your own people. How foolish of me to think you incapable of such duplicity and evil."

Juliana merely smiled and withdrew to a corner behind the Calormenes, who proceeded to advance menacingly towards Lyra. Not one to back down from a fight, Lyra swung her sword towards the nearest one, who parried, and then slashed towards the other. A fierce battle ensued, and soon one of the Calormenes fell lifeless to the ground. The other, enraged at his companion's death, redoubled his attack as several more Calormenes ran into the room. Lyra fought them valiantly, but one swordsman, no matter how skilled or how brave, cannot stand in an indefensible position against seven opponents at once. She injured several of her attackers, but in the end one of them landed a blow to her head with the pommel of his scimitar. The Archen princess fell to the ground, dazed, and promptly found herself held fast by several pairs of strong arms.

"Let me go, you big clumsy brutes!" She railed, struggling with all her might. "Archenland will not stand for this!"

Prince Karim entered the room at last, a triumphant smile on his face.

"Oh, but they will, my princess," he laughed. "They will not know where you have gone, and by the time they figure it out it will be too late. You should not have humiliated me by rejecting my suit."

"It was mine to reject, and I will have no part of your barbaric Calormene ways," Lyra retorted, eyes aflame with unbridled fury as she managed, despite her captors, to knock the prince over with a well-aimed kick that doubled him over.

Karim picked himself up, his dark eyes darkened even more. He raised a hand and dealt her a stinging blow across the face.

"Do not think yourself immune from my wrath, o delight of my eyes," he growled. "You will learn."

"You strike as a coward, prince, and you will pay dearly for this. And I will have your head, traitoress, if it is the last thing I do," she growled, unbowed by Karim's strike.

"I think not, my dear princess," Juliana replied, stepping towards Lyra. "I have waited for the day when you no longer meddle in my affairs for a very long time, and I intend to relish every moment of it. The last time we met in this room, I found your dagger at my throat. How fitting, then, that it is here where I laugh last. Goodbye, your highness," she said mockingly. "And congratulations on your engagement." Juliana stepped towards the first door, daintily stepping over the slain Calormene, then turned back towards the prince. "I trust my payment is in my rooms."

"It is, o most clever of ladies."

"Your days are numbered, Juliana. Remember that, and let my words haunt you until the day my sword strikes your heart," Lyra spat the words venomously, still struggling with her captors. Juliana merely smiled and closed the door on her way out.

Despite Lyra's struggling, the Calormenes managed to bind her tightly with sturdy ropes and tie a gag on securely. Even so, she continued to make as much noise as she could as they carried her down the other corridor, and the Calormenes finally resorted to dealing her a hard blow that knocked her unconscious. Then, they stole silently up another staircase, which lead into the Stone Knife Gallery, and made their way out to the waiting wagons. As Prince Karim passed the Stone Knife he paused, remembering how everyone in Archenland, and especially that bothersome Narnian, seemed to revere it. After a moment, he reached up and closed the lid of its case, then tucked the box with the Knife inside his satchel.

"Spoils of war are such fun to enjoy", he thought as he joined his caravan outside. Karim's men secured Lyra in a carriage towards the front and Karim took to his own carriage, then the short caravan left the courtyard and turned towards the south as the rain finally began coming down in silver, drenching sheets.

In his warm, lit carriage the prince smiled.

AN: I would love to know what you think! I hope to have the next chapters posted in an equally timely manner. *fingers crossed*