Here is the next chapter-it took a REALLY long time to write, so hopefully it is worth it :-)
I still do not own Narnia and make no monetary profit by writing this story.
10th, Greenroof, 1012-Fifthday
Insofar as Gale, King of Narnia-being descended from the noble line of Frank-is hailed as Emperor of these Islands, he shall be awarded all honours and authorities incumbent upon him. Furthermore, a Council shall be established for the governance of these lands in accordance with his will, and with the will of Aslan, Son of the Emperor Over The Sea and High King Over All Kings of Narnia. The Council shall be chosen in accordance with the precepts of our land, and in respect to those of noble and elevated status-
The sunlight streaming through the circular porthole of her cabin beckoned imploringly to Lucy, and her gaze drifted away from the dusty pages she had been studying to fix on the glimmer of azure water that was just visible outside. The volume on the table before her was the one remaining Narnian copy of "The Charter of Kings", the original basis for Narnia's authority over the Lone Islands. It made for very dull reading, and she could not keep her mind from wandering to more pleasant thoughts of salt spray, merfolk, and golden sunlight.
There were few things Lucy loved more than sailing, and ordinarily she would have been perched high in the rigging, watching the sailors on the deck below, and delighting in the sensation of freedom. As it was, she had determined before leaving Cair Paravel that she would learn as much about the laws and politics of the Lone Islands as possible; three days later she seemed to have gained no better understanding. Her study of "The Charter of Kings" had so far resulted in nothing more than an aching head and a morose longing for fresh air.
She sighed heavily, pushed the book away to join the disordered jumble that constituted the rest of Cair Paravel's books on the Lone Islands, and threw another longing look out at the sparkling sea.
Surely a few minutes above decks won't do any harm. After all, I have been shut up with these books for nearly three days! Three days was a terribly long time for Lucy to be shut up anywhere, especially on a ship, and she felt that if she spent another moment so confined she was likely to cry.
If only Edmund were here! she lamented, not for the first time. He would have had these books read in half the time it is taking me, and would have gotten much more out of them.
Her brother's absence served only to remind her of her duty, and she stubbornly turned her back on the window and pulled the book onto her lap. It isn't so very dull, perhaps if I simply try a bit harder.
The Council shall be comprised of one member from each of the noble families of Doorn, and one member from each of the noble families of Avra, and one member of each of the Merchant Guilds, and one member from each of the great seafaring families. These shall meet once every-The words began to run together into an endless, meaningless stream of cramped characters and seemingly indecipherable words. The book, in fact, was so very dull.
"Oh, bother!" she exclaimed, feeling uncharacteristically cross, and slammed the decrepit covers closed. She may as well have been reading a foreign language for all the sense the closely written words were making to her just then. The call of the sea refused to be denied any longer; duty or no she had to get out of the cabin, had to feel the wind in her hair, and smell the sweet sea air.
It's simply no use reading if I haven't the faintest idea of what I'm reading, she thought, and with that convincing argument firmly in mind she abandoned all thoughts of politics.
The smooth deck planks were warm beneath her bare feet as she pushed the door to her cabin closed behind her and drew in a great lungful of sweet, warm air. Freedom, she thought, letting the gentle sea breeze ruffle through her hair. Susan would not have approved of her having left her shoes behind, nor of the fact that she had so far failed to comb her hair since leaving Cair Paravel. Luckily for the freedom of both her hair and feet, Susan was not currently present.
"A good afternoon to ye, your majesty!" the captain called to her cheerily from his place at the helm.
She smiled and made her way across the gently rocking deck to join him. "Good afternoon, Captain Rhegus; how fares the sea today?"
The captain was a wiry, weathered looking sailor with a merry face and brilliant red hair-though white was beginning to show at his temples. Lucy felt her smile widen as she remembered her first voyage with him-she had been terribly afraid of him then, though she never would have admitted that to Peter.
"She's in a fine temper, your majesty," Rhegus answered, adjusting the wheel minutely to keep the Splendor Hyaline firmly on course. "Much like ye, your majesty." He winked, still roguish despite his age, and Lucy couldn't help giggling. Rhegus was rarely serious, and his quick mirth and easy manners never failed to make Lucy feel more at ease herself.
"I'm in a much better temper for having the wind against my face and the sun on my back," she agreed, smiling as she looked over the expanse of gleaming water. "Where are we, Captain?"
"About 'alf a day's sail from Doorn, by my reckonin'. 'Course, I could be wrong." He winked again, and Lucy laughed obligingly at the joke, despite the sinking feeling that came from knowing how close they were to journey's end.
Rhegus seemed to sense her consternation and he frowned, leaning lightly against the wheel and staring down at her curiously.
"Why, Queen Lucy, I must say, I've never seen ye lookin' quite so down. What ails ye, lass?" Susan would not have thought his form of address proper enough, but at that moment Lucy could have hugged him for speaking to her with such frankness.
"It's just-" she bit her lip, stopping the words before they could come tumbling out; Edmund had warned her not to speak of her mission to anyone. But really! She thought desperately. If I don't confide in someone I shall go mad! "You're from Narrowhaven, aren't you?"
She thought his expression hardened for a moment as he turned away, but it could have been a trick of the light-the sun had just passed behind a cloud and the ship was briefly in the shadow it cast.
"Yes," he said slowly. "There was a time I was proud to call m'self a sailor of Doorn." He smiled suddenly, the distant look in his eyes fading as he turned back to face her. "But, I'm a true Narnian now, and prouder of that than I've been of aught else in my life."
Lucy nodded, glad to hear him say it. Once she had overcome her fear, and gained a few inches of height, Captain Rhegus had become a trusted friend to her. It would have saddened her to find he regretted leaving his home for a life in Narnia.
"What made you leave Narrowhaven?" she asked, curiosity sending her questions down an altogether different path than she had intended. That's always the trouble with me, she reflected, somewhat ruefully. It's terribly lucky I'm not a cat. At least, that was what Susan always said.
"If ye'll pardon my sayin' it," he glanced around furtively and leaned conspiratorially closer to her. "I got into a bit of a scrap with a fellow there, Calormen chap 'e was, and a right devil with a blade too. Would 'ave gutted me like a fish if I'd stayed."
There was a dancing gleam in his flint coloured eyes and Lucy knew he couldn't be serious. She gave him the same look that usually made her siblings grumble with annoyance before giving in to her requests.
"Really Captain," she said faking sternness. "Saying such things before a lady." But she could not be serious for long, and she laughed. "But, in all honesty, why did you leave?" she persisted a moment later.
Rhegus grinned sheepishly. "If ye really must know, your majesty, there," he paused to clear his throat and run a calloused hand across his face. "Well, ye see," he began again, his sun darkened skin suddenly redder than his hair must have been in his youth. "There was a girl."
Lucy sobered immediately, wondering if she had touched on a painful subject, but Rhegus' grin did not waver. "I was a bit of a fool, your majesty, as young sailors often are. 'er father didn't approve, ye see, and 'e would 'ave killed me, if I 'adn't been too clever for 'im." He fell silent for a moment, sharp eyes fixed on the distant horizon. "Never saw 'er again," he said quietly, his expression suddenly sad.
"Oh dear!" Impulsively Lucy reached out to grasp his hand. "I'm most dreadfully sorry, Captain!" Why must my questions always get away from me?
He shook himself, seeming to return to the present, and his smile was back as quickly as if it had never vanished. "Don't trouble yourself on my account, Queen Lucy," he said cheerfully. "That was a very long time ago."
Still, she couldn't quite help feeling wretched for reminding him. It seemed far too cruel to return to her original plan of questioning him, and for a moment she stared at the decking beneath her feet and wondered what she was supposed to do now. I always make such a dreadful mess of things.
"Ye were goin' to ask me something further, were ye not?" Rhegus looked not at all troubled, and that made her feel somewhat better.
"Yes, I-well, it's about why we are sailing to Narrowhaven so hastily. The Council means to overthrow Governor Athelstan, and Ed-King Edmund, that is-thinks that the people must be discontented, and-oh dear-do they hate us so very much?" And there it was, the very reason she felt such trepidation about traveling to Narrowhaven alone, only, she really hadn't meant to say it quite like that.
Rhegus blinked, opened his mouth to speak, then promptly closed it again and whistled very softly through his teeth. "Well now," he said finally, shaking his head. "Firstly, if ye'll not think me impertinent?" Lucy shook her head miserably. "Well then, firstly, I 'ave yet to meet a spirit alive capable of 'ating ye, Queen Lucy."
Lucy felt her face flush in embarrassment. I don't understand why, she thought, scuffing her bare toes against the well-scrubbed wood of the deck. There's nothing all that special about me.
"And secondly," continued Rhegus, still gravely. "As soon as the people see ye-well I'll be 'anged if they don't see the Council for the pack of braying jackasses they really are. Beggin' your pardon, o' course, your majesty."
She did not think it would have been entirely proper to tell tales about her brothers, so she refrained from informing him she often heard much worse language at the breakfast table. Instead, she examined his statement intently, noting what he had failed to say just as carefully as what he had said. I think that's what Edmund would do.
"But, the people are discontent, aren't they? Oh bother! Captain, please, be honest-don't try to spare my feelings." She found that her hands were shaking and pressed them against her sides in an attempt to hide that fact. This simply won't do!
"Your majesty, it isn't my place to say." Rhegus shifted uneasily and glared at the dark smudge of land just visible on the horizon.
"Please?" Lucy could nearly hear Susan's voice gently scolding her for pleading with someone who was technically under her command, but she also acknowledged that she had never been comfortable with being in charge. Her expression must have been sufficiently beseeching, and Rhegus sighed, shaking his head in defeat.
"Very well, Queen Lucy; to answer your question-yes, I believe they are. But," he held up a hand, forestalling her next cascade of words. "They 'ave less right to be than they think. Ye, and your royal siblings, ye are the ones who drove away the Witch and 'er Winter, and for that they should be thankin' ye, not judgin' ye."
But it wasn't us at all, Lucy insisted silently. It was Aslan's doing from the very start. She had learned, over the years, that people generally smiled indulgently when faced with that protest and dismissed it far more summarily than they ought.
"Why do they judge us?" Her curiosity drove away the brief flash of annoyance quickly enough. "Are our laws unjust, or have we mistreated them in any way?"
"No…not as such." But he did not sound particularly certain. He sighed, and ran a hand through his grizzled hair, making it stand on end and appear very wild indeed. "With your majesty's leave I will speak plainly to ye."
"I certainly wish you would," Lucy assured him, though-she wasn't entirely sure she was ready to hear the full truth. Nothing for it; Peter trusted me to get to the bottom of this, and he certainly wouldn't shy from hearing something unpleasant.
"The people," he paused, fumbled in his pockets for his pipe and clamped the stem firmly between his teeth, but refrained from lighting it in her presence. "The people are restless, Queen Lucy. They seem to think, which I believe they 'ave no right to, that ye and yours 'ave ignored 'em these twelve years."
Have we? Lucy wondered desperately, trying to think of any interaction she remembered between the court of Cair Paravel and the Lone Islands. There had been a state visit from Governor Athelstan the year before and a few of the Council members had accompanied him. A Doornish nobleman had come courting the year before that, and she suspected that Peter and Edmund of throwing diplomacy to the winds after he had been found skulking outside Susan's chambers. Well, probably just Peter, she supposed Edmund would likely have been less obvious in his ire.
Before that-Oh, dear!-Peter, of course, had visited the Lone Islands in the first year of their reign, to re-establish communications between them and the throne of Narnia. But, other than that, she could not recall a time when either she, or any of her family, had actually visited the Islands.
"We have ignored them, haven't we?" She studied the sailor's lined face, wishing fervently that she possessed Edmund's skill for understanding people simply by examining their expressions.
Rhegus cleared his throat and clamped his teeth more firmly around the pipe, very carefully not meeting her gaze. "That really isn't my place to say, your majesty. But, if I was a bettin' man-which I thank Aslan I'm not-I would bet every bit of coin I 'ave that the Council's been tellin' the people you are ready to 'and the Islands over to the Calormenes anyway. They'll be sayin' the Calormenes'll protect 'em better, and that the 'igh King 'ad no right to the Islands in the first place-seein' as 'e isn't from King Frank's line at all."
So much for it not being at all political, Lucy thought, allowing herself a moment to acknowledge her ever growing fear at what she might actually find in Narrowhaven. Was Edmund wrong about their motivations? Surely he couldn't have been, after all, he knew far more about it than she did. Still, Lucy was beginning to feel that the situation had less to do with greed, as Edmund had assured her, and more to do with fear.
We are supposed to protect the Islands, but what have we actually done for them? We've become nothing more than figureheads-worse than useless. Oh Aslan! How could we let this happen? Rhegus was watching her with ill-concealed concern and Lucy forced a smile, though she felt it would not have been very convincing.
"Are ye quite well, your majesty? If ye'll pardon me, your lookin' a mite peaky," he frowned and put the still unlit pipe back in his pocket. "Ere, why don't ye sit down a spell? I've never known ye to be sickly on sea."
Lucy shook her head and forced her smile to become more genuine-it was a much for her own benefit as it was to reassure her Captain. "I'm quite well," she insisted, steadying her breathing with difficulty-she had been dangerously close to panicking-and flashing him a brilliant smile. "Although, I think it's high time for me to go back below, it seems I have quite a lot of reading to do."
Rhegus nodded slowly, looking quite skeptical of her suddenly bright mood, and Lucy turned back towards her cabin. The sun did not seem quite as bright as it had a few moments ago, and she sighed, miserably. Why did I ever agree to come? I can't do this; Peter never should have trusted me to.
She was just about to lay her hand on the latch of her cabin door when a swallow dove gracefully from the rigging with a loud cry.
"A sail!" the Bird called, cheeping frantically as it circled around Captain Rhegus' head, before settling on the wheel with an incredible display of balance. "A sail!"
In a flash, Lucy had forgotten her consternation over the Lone Islands, the pile of books that awaited her, and the urgency of her mission. "Where?" she asked, dashing back to Rhegus' side. "Where, good cousin?"
"To the East," the Swallow fluttered her wings and tilted her head in the direction of the distant speck of white. "There's something wrong, your majesty, their wings look broken!"
Rhegus muttered a phrase Lucy was certain she was not meant to hear-though she had still heard worse at breakfast-and raised his seaman's glass. A moment later he handed it to her with a frown. She peered through it, found the ship easily enough, and gasped.
Smoke was rising from the deck, the sail hung in tatters, and the whole ship seemed to list to one side. She saw what the Swallow meant about its wings being broken.
"That's a Galman merchant vessel, isn't it?" she asked, squinting at the ragged flag fluttering from the mast.
"Aye," said Rhegus, more grimly than she had ever heard him speak as he took the glass back from her. "Ye've got a good eye, your majesty. Pirates' work, no doubt-I've 'eard talk of pirates in these waters o' late. Thought it was fanciful nonsense; seems I was mistaken."
"We have to help them," Lucy said simply, thinking it was the most obvious thing in the world. It surprised her very much then, when Rhegus cleared his throat, looking distinctly uncomfortable, and did not immediately change course. "Captain?"
"Beggin' your pardon, Queen Lucy, but my orders are to get ye to Narrowhaven without delay. The 'igh King-"
"Oh, bother the High King!" she snapped, in a tone that would have made Susan sigh in despair at her ever learning to be a proper lady. "My duty is to my people; turn this ship about and help them!"
Still Rhegus hesitated, and the Swallow who had sighted the sail fluttered her wings nervously and abandoned her perch on the wheel in favour of landing on Lucy's shoulder. Lucy found her light weight and the steady flutter of the Creature's heart next to her ear extremely comforting and whispered a quiet word of thanks for the Swallow's unspoken declaration of loyalty. The Narnians would stand by their queen's orders.
Rhegus shook his head and whistled between his teeth again. "Your majesty, please, Galma is not under Narnia's protection-I like 'em well enough, but the Galmans 'ave their own King to protect 'em. My orders are to protect ye."
"And you are my Captain-as such you are bound to follow my orders." Don't think about how much you hate giving orders; don't think how this man is your friend, she reminded herself sternly. Peter would not hesitate. Shoulders back, chin up, don't look down-thank you, Susan. "As your queen," she said, far more haughtily than she had ever spoken before, "I order you to turn this ship about and aid the Galmans."
Rhegus threw up his hands in defeat. "Alright, Queen Lucy, 'ave it your way. There's naught else I can do but obey, but I want ye below decks and your guards above."
"Begging your pardon, Captain,"-She cringed at the unnatural coldness in her own voice-"But you take orders from me, not the other way around. I'll be above decks-where I belong."
Rhegus sighed, then grinned at her to show he had not taken offense at her tone. "Alright, your majesty, it's not my place to gainsay ye. Only, please stay near your guards, won't ye? We don't know if this ship is all it seems, and the 'igh King would 'ave my 'ead if anythin' were to 'appen to ye."
Lucy nodded, and Rhegus turned away to call a volley of ear shattering orders to his men. A moment later the troupe of guards Peter had sent with her snapped to attention, springing to her side from the various places they had been lounging about the deck.
The ship listed to the side for a moment as Rhegus spun the wheel sharply, turning Eastward, towards the Galman vessel. Lucy gripped the railing to keep her hands from shaking. Despite her orders, and her confidence that it was her duty to help anyone in trouble, she could not help the thrill of fear that ran through her at the mention of pirates.
When she had been a few years younger, and far more gullible, Edmund had been rather fond of telling her wild stories of pirates. She knew now that tales of ghostly ships that disappeared and reappeared without warning were no doubt nonsense, but they had given her nightmares for years. Of course, once Susan discovered the cause for her difficulties sleeping she had scolded Edmund soundly, and he had apologized beautifully. Still, Lucy regarded pirates with a special sense of dread.
"Stay close, your majesty," the Faun in charge of her guards said hurriedly, between calling out orders to the rest of the troupe. "We don't know if the pirates have gone yet."
Lucy looked about quickly; she didn't see anywhere another ship could be hiding, but her mind returned irrepressibly to Edmund's old stories.
"Right out of the fog," he had told her, voice pitched so low as to be nearly inaudible. "Just when you think you're safe, and you've made it past the ship, it comes out of the fog and crashes into you!" She seemed to remember shrieking at that point in the tale, but just then she didn't have time to properly remember anything, for the Splendor Hyaline had nearly reached the other vessel.
The merchant vessel, due to its course and slower speed was now slightly behind them, and Rhegus quickly turned the ship so that the broadside of it was slanted in front of the other ship's prow. There was very little else he could have done under such circumstances, and in another moment the sailors would have had ropes out, and been calling across the few yards of water that still separated the two ships. At least, everyone later thought that was what would have happened.
What did happen, however, was quite different, and Lucy did not understand it very well at all. All she could ever tell was that, just as the Hyaline drew even with it, the merchant vessel turned suddenly-flashing through the water with all its oars driving forward-and struck the Splendor Hyaline full across the side of her hull.
Someone screamed, Lucy thought it must have been her, and she found herself thrown to the deck as the railing she had been clutching a moment before splintered with the force of the blow. She looked up, as if in a dream, and saw Captain Rhegus clinging to the wheel, hair blazing in the sunlight, and teeth set in a snarl of effort as he fought to turn the ship.
She staggered to her feet, shook her head to clear it, and blinked against the sudden haze of smoke. The merchant vessel was in fact, burning-or rather, the lifeboats on the deck were burning, and the acrid haze caught in her throat and made her cough.
The Hyaline was in a state of utter confusion. Sailors ran to and fro on the deck, hacking away burning and splintered debris and throwing cargo overboard in the hopes of gaining more speed, but Lucy saw at once that it was useless. Rhegus, for all his skill had been unable to turn the ship back towards open sea, and the other vessel had made good use of its oars, drawing back in preparation to strike again.
Lucy looked desperately from Rhegus' strained and hopeless face, to the pale, terrified faces of her guards, and knew they were lost. Aslan! Help us! What am I to do?
Have courage.
"How?" she called aloud, voice hoarse and desperate. Her guards turned to stare at her, frightened and seeking reassurance, but she had none to give them. "How can I?" But Aslan spoke no more, and Lucy felt her knees buckle under the weight of her terror.
Peter! she thought desperately. Peter can send help! It scarcely mattered in that moment that any help Peter could send would be days in coming, it was a thread of hope, and it was all she had. She scanned the sky frantically for the darting speck that would indicate the Swallow's presence, and silently scolded herself for not learning the Bird's name. Aslan, please!
Almost in the next heartbeat the answer came in a darting flash of grey and white as the blessed bird once more dropped down to land on her shoulder-as solid and calm as Lucy could have wished.
"Good cousin, fly!" she choked, coughing as the smoke filled her lungs. "To Cair…tell Peter to send ships! Fly, dear friend! Fly!" The Swallow trilled softly, brushed her wing against Lucy's cheek in a silent farewell, and flew.
A moment later Lucy found that she too was flying. The ship had struck them again-before Lucy quite knew what was happening the deck was tilting alarmingly and she found herself sliding back towards the already weakened railing. She slammed against the already weakened barrier, the force of the impact driving the breath from her lungs, before the wood splintered the rest of the way, and she was tumbling down towards the tangle of debris and discarded cargo in the sea. She heard Captain Rhegus shout, had a brief moment to realise she would have been far safer below decks as he had wished her to be, before her head collided with something very solid and she knew no more.
Far above, circling the swaying mast, the little Swallow let out a keening shriek before turning to the Northwest and winging away, more swiftly than she had ever flown before in her life. But, even as she flew, she knew it would never be fast enough. The Splendor Hyaline was lost, and her young queen had already sunk beneath the waves of the ocean that was her domain.
There's that! Put the pitchforks away-if you murder me you'll never find out what happens next! Please leave me a review and let me know what you think, especially of Rhegus, since he is my own creation :-) I would love to hear what you think of him as a character.
Next up we have a chapter about Susan. It will be posted next week, so keep reading. Also, if you have a spare moment please vote on the poll that is located at the top of my profile page.
Cheers,
A
