Chapter 6: Truths

Was that where the statues in the courtyard came from?

My exhausted body sank into my new hammock like a rock in a pool of water, but my eyes were locked open. The boys had told me to rest today, but my mind still reeled with the previous night's and early morning's events. From the wolves, the Narnians, the Lion...

From my conversations with Rhydian and Geraint.

We helped some of them escape... we kept much of it from you because we didn't want to frighten you...we'll teach you to fight... we'll have peace again... like Father used to talk about...

Like Father used to talk about.

He had often spoken of freedom, of oppression, of tyranny. Of peace. Then, I had passed off his raucous accusations as madness, as Mother inclined to. Their voices had ricocheted off the walls of the courtyard like wayward arrows in a skirmish.

Then silence.

And that horrible rock-crumbling sound...

Was that...?

Those are the ones that dared to stand up to her.

Was that where Father went?

Had...

Those are the ones that dared to stand up to her...

Had he...?

Tears stung at my eyes. I knew he was gone; Rhydian and Geraint had said that much. But...

They said Mother had put that statue there to commemorate his memory...

Shecouldn't have.

She said she loved him...

Fear, anger, disbelief swarmed my head and heart as I threw off the blankets and charged out into the melting snow.

"Rhydian!" I screamed, ducking around tent-corners in a frightened rage.

And right into Oreius.

His silent, stormy eyes glared down at me disapprovingly as he stamped his right hoof into the ground. I backed up a few steps and shot back around another tent, making sure to watch where I was going.

"Rhydian!" I desperately called again.

"Are you looking for someone?" a voice asked from beside me. I turned to see who it belonged to and came face-to-face with a Fox, who calmly made his way over to me.

Shyly, I nodded. "My brother," I said, trying to keep my nerves from flying up any further.

"Ah," the Fox considered. "What was his name again?"

"Rhydian."

"Rhydian," the Fox echoed, his amber eyes casually looking to the sky as he did so. "Ah! I think I know him! Tall, golden-haired?"

A smile slipped across my anxious face. "That's him!" I cried.

The Fox chuckled, his eyes smiling. "Try the shooting range. I think he and his friend were going to try a few of our bows."

I nodded. "Thank you," I grinned, turning to run in that direction.

"You're Arvid's girl, aren't you?"

I froze, swinging around, eyeing the Fox with disbelief. "How do you know of my father?"

"Who around here doesn't?" the Fox replied admirably, turning away with a pondering gleam in his eyes, as if he were recalling something. It was then I noticed the scar behind the Fox's left ear, and my mind reeled with even more unanswered questions.

I had to find Rhydian.

Taking off from the standstill, I ran as hard as I could towards the archery range. When I finally found my brothers sitting under a tree nearby with two wooden recurve bows propped up next to them, I wasn't exactly sure what to think.

"Rhydian!" I called, running up the hill.

Reprimand etched its way into Rhydian's sharp features as he stood. "I thought I told you to rest up, Renn," he rebuked sternly.

"I... I tried. I couldn't. What do you two know about Father that you neglected to tell me?"

And so the words came tumbling out.

"That statue. In the courtyard. Is that him? Is that where he is? Mother killed him?"

Geraint's blue eyes popped; Rhydian shifted uneasily, and a long, low sigh escaped his frowning lips.

"Yes," he said softly. "She did."

Tears welled up in my eyes again, but I forced them back. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"We didn't want to frighten you, Renn," Geraint replied. "It's not an easy thing to grasp, even for us."

"But..." My knees buckled out from under me, and I flopped unceremoniously into the muddy snow. "But... He's... he was..."

Despite my best effort to hold back my emotions, I softly began to cry. It felt childish, it probably looked childish, but I didn't know what to think.

No one does, when they feel their youth is being stripped from them.

Slowly, Rhydian knelt in front of me, gently pulling me into his arms. Part of me wanted to shove him away for keeping such a monstrous piece of information hidden, but I still found myself melting into his embrace. Soon Geraint's hands were on my shoulders, and I could feel him smoothing my hair, offering what comfort he could.

Though none of us spoke, I could feel the "We-should-have-told-you" in Rhydian's arms, in Geraint softly patting my back.

"How could she?!" I sobbed, noting the volume in my voice and not caring in the slightest. "She... I thought—"

"He was the one who started helping the prisoners escape," Geraint cut in. "Many of the troops here are people that Father rescued." He sighed. "It hurt him, at first, to go against Mother's wishes. But soon he saw just how twisted she had become, and... You know him, Renn. He wasn't one to leave innocent people to suffer for it. He was always one to go with his gut, even if he wound up paying for it in the end. He couldn't bear to see how the Narnians suffered under her, so... he swore to help them. He would leave in the dead of night with some of the prisoners Mother had captured, using what magic he had to trick her into seeing them in their cells the next morning. Eventually she began to catch on, got her suspicions up. Then word passed between the trees of what he was doing. Then it reached the Secret Police, and as soon as Mother caught wind, she... well, you know."

I sniffed. "You should have told me."

"We weren't sure how to," Geraint admitted. "We wanted to... but we just couldn't find the words. It's a miracle we've managed to tell you what we have."

Rhydian's arms hesitantly fell from my sides, and he drew a deep breath. "He..." His voice failed him, and as he grasped my shoulders, almost as if he were bracing me for what he was about to say.

"He told us... the night that he was killed... well, he made us promise that we would continue his work. He said Narnia depended on it. So... we picked up where he left off."

"Or... we tried," Geraint sighed. "We got everyone out but that poor Dwarf, and then we made a run for it ourselves. She was trying to figure out how so many of her prisoners had suddenly vanished, and since he was the only one left... well... I could tell by the look in her eye that she already knew. She just needed to have it confirmed before she tried to do anything to us. We had to fight back before she could strike us. For our safety and yours, but for Father, as well. And what better way to do that than coming out here?"

I wiped under my eyes with the back of my sleeve, sniffling a bit and laying my head onto Geraint's shoulder. My head pounded; my eyes stung. Grief weighed down on my little body like a nine-pound hammer, and the reality of all that transpired screamed in my face. I wanted to feel as if I should curl up in a corner somewhere, hide behind my brothers and let them do all the fighting, like they always had. I felt as if my place was to run and hide and sob and mope and pity myself, watching the world's problems roll past me without a care.

But I couldn't.

I found myself too angry to.

"She needs to pay," I suddenly growled. "She must pay for what she's done."

"Aye," Rhydian agreed. "She must."

Geraint silently nodded.

Staring at the ground, I began wringing my hands over one another, still wrestling with my thoughts.

"Renn?" Geraint suddenly asked.

I looked up at him, and his face lit up a bit, and I could tell by the gleam in his eye that he had an idea.

"You remember what I said earlier about learning how to fight?"

My heart started pounding. "Maybe," I replied.

"Aslan's got Orieus to teach the two of us how to properly," Geraint went on, motioning towards Rhydian. "There's nothing saying that he couldn't also teach you."

My eyes popped. "Whatever happened to 'there's-more-ways-to-fight-than-just-fighting?'" I gaped, taken aback.

"There are. But... learning to defend yourself can't hurt. You'd practice with us, and we could help you, too."

I scoffed. "You don't know what you're saying."

"No, I really think I do."

I sighed. "Orieus is already leery of us. I wouldn't want to ask too much of him..."

He scares me, the child inside of me desperately wanted to whine. But now, I decided, I couldn't afford to let it.

"Us being here is alreadyasking too much of him," Rhydian retorted. "We'll have to earn his respect, no doubt, and doing that won't be easy, but if we can show him we mean business and that we want truly do want to fight for Narnia, we just might be able to. That within itself would be worth it."

"Father would want you to, Renn," Geraint added. "You know he would."

He was right. As much as I didn't want to admit it, I knew he was.

"Alright, then," I sighed nervously. "I'll do it. I'll do it for Father."