Chapter 9: Hope

After a troubled sleep, my eyes snapped open. There was movement outside, more than what was usually allotted to the night watch, so the camp was just starting to wake up. The inside of our tent, tinged with a soft grey glow as the early sunlight trickled in through the crack in the tent flaps, was tricky to get around without getting anywhere close to my brothers. And my quiver was at Rhydian's feet...

Tactfully, I pulled on a plain red dress and tried to tiptoe across the floor of rugs and grass, standing with so much weight on the fronts of my feet that it felt as if I was hardly touching the ground at all. Even then, my feet still crunched and thumped into the floor. A testament to the giant blood in my veins. To this day I still curse it for its inconvenient appearances. Nearing the foot of Rhydian's hammock, I slowly reached for my quiver.

Suddenly he stirred. I froze.

Lazily, he cracked a bright blue eye open at me, rolled over, and went back to sleep. I sighed with relief, stretching as far as my body would let me as my fingers fumbled for and found the quiver in the darkness. Hesitantly, almost guiltily, I slung it onto my back and took a step towards the tent flaps. I looked over my shoulder to where my brothers slept, so badly wanting to apologize to Geraint about how I had acted the night before but being too afraid to see how he would react to my... reasons for being awake. Frowning, I slipped out of the door and slunk behind our tent, sneaking up to the archery range to try to get in some practice.

I spent my quiver twice, and still only managed to hit the target a handful of times. By now, the morning light illuminated the grounds enough that I knew I needed to slip away before any of the soldiers and archers came to train. Quite proud of myself for not having been caught, I snuck back to the main camp and went to open the tent flaps.

Only to run right into Geraint.

He gave me a look. "You're up early," he said, and his tone alone told me he knew what I had been up to.

"Oreius told me to meet the chief healer in the morning," I hastily spun. "And you know how he is about punctuality..."

Geraint's brow furrowed as he ushered me inside. "So do you plan on telling me how to stitch up a wound with a quiver?"

I froze.

Geraint sighed. "You've always been a hard-head, Renn," he rebuked gently, "but you shouldn't be down there alone. What if you got hurt?"

"You're hurt?" I heard Rhydian ask, his shield rattling as he strapped it to his back.

I shook my head.

"Then what is it?"

"She went down to practice," Geraint informed. "By herself. Practically in the dark."

Rhydian shook his head. "There's a reason you don't go down there by yourself, Renn. Not even Geraint and I are allowed to do that. If you were hurt, there would have been no way for us to have known immediately."

I wanted to groan, but the noise wouldn't come. I knew they were right, but I wasn't about to admit it.

"I could have fixed it by myself if I had been," I muttered, turning on my heel. "Which reminds me. I have somewhere to be—"

"Not yet, you don't," Rhydian charged with the gentle authority of a father. "Why where you dow—"

"You shouldn't even be asking, brother," Geraint interrupted. "You know why." His face softened as he looked down on me. "When we finally do go to war, you want to be with us."

I nodded. More than anything, I did.

He tilted my chin up and smiled down at me. "Then maybe you'll just have to take me with you the next time you sneak off."

My face lit up. "Really?"

Rhydian stiffened. "Geraint—"

Geraint eyed him coolly, his blue-green eyes hardening almost the same way Mother's would when she was challenged. Out of all of us, he looked the most like her.

"If things went poorly and the Witch's men pushed back to camp," he said, "she needs to be able to defend herself. Because at that point, she may be all that Narnia would have left."

Rhydian effectively silenced himself.

Geraint looked back at me. "Really. I mean it. If you want to learn, I can show you more." He looked over my shoulder as the sunlight trickled in through the tent flap. "But that will be saved for a later day. You've got somewhere to be, don't you?"

My eyes popped, and hastily I unslung my quiver. Geraint took it and set it in the corner.

"About last night—" I started.

Geraint put his hands on my shoulders, a knowing gleam in his eye. "What happened last night? I seem to have forgotten about it already."

I grinned.

"Now you'd better be on your way. You don't want to be late."

Without a second thought, I smiled a "thank you" and ran out into the camp. Stopping to get my bearings, I spotted Oreius standing outside a long red tent, speaking to another Centaur with dappled sides and long, flaxen hair. Suddenly feeling small and shy, I made my way over to them. Oreius nodded his usual silent greeting, and patting my shoulder he clopped off in the direction of the training grounds.

My eyes lifted to the other Centaur, who I was close enough to notice shared Oreius's stern brown eyes. Immediately her face softened.

"You must be Renn," she said, smiling brightly. "I am Bronwyn. Oreius tells me you saved someone's life yesterday."

I nodded, still a little timid.

"No small feat," she continued. "Which is why you've been sent to me. I'll be helping you hone that skill. For what good is an army without those to hold its members together?"

Before I could stop it, a smile stretched across my face. I had only known Bronwyn for a few minutes and I was already beginning to like her. She was much warmer than Oreius, though in the face, the two bore a striking resemblance.

"We desperately need more like you among our ranks. There are several thousand soldiers, with more showing up every day, and very, very few healers." She motioned towards Oreius as he made his way up the hill. "When my brother told me he was sending you to me, I was relieved." She laughed. "So in case he does something rash, they'll be more of us to put him back together again!"

Her animation was so infectious that I couldn't help but laugh with her.

"Come," she said. "It'd be wise to start sometime today, now wouldn't it?"

The next several days consisted of learning the ins and outs of healing. Bandages, medicines, herbs, the right way to stitch up a wound, how to stop bleeding, lessen pain. Bronwyn proved to be as efficient at teaching as she was friendly. If I made a mistake, she was always ready with the gentle correction. The more time went on, the more we talked and laughed, and the greater the skills became that she entrusted me with. But though I thoroughly enjoyed her company, I still found myself wanting to be with my brothers.

What I relished most were the impromptu archery lessons with Geraint. Every morning we'd sneak down to the range, fighting not to wake Rhydian and the rest of the camp as we moved through the grass. For an hour every morning I slaved over the training, and every day the shafts crept closer and closer to the center of the target.

In other words, all of them were hitting it. Even if they were dancing around the edges.

Once the sun came up, Geraint would grab his saddle and go find Darian, and I would return my quiver to our tent and seek out Bronwyn. This morning had started out the same way. Geraint, Rhydian, and Flynn all walked back to the training grounds together, and I started back into the main camp to look for Bronwyn.

Morning brought with it a rich sunrise of red and gold, and as the sun peaked over the mountains and shone on Cair Paravel in the distance, I couldn't help but feel a little strange. Warm. Warmth was a concept that had been nearly foreign to me for almost my entire life. Not the kind of warmth felt by sitting next to a hearth or a campfire, but a warmth of a different kind. A better, deeper kind.

The kind I felt around Aslan.

Immediately I looked for the Lion. My eyes scanned the hills behind me, but there was no sign of him. Puzzled, I went inside and set myself up at one of the many tables, trying to shove the feeling aside as I attempted to focus on the task in front of me. Flynn would need an herb-soaked bandage for the laceration on his arm that Rhydian accidentally dealt him a few days before, so I crunched up the leaves and began to make a paste out of them.

Suddenly the tent flaps fluttered open, and a familiar scampering sound patted across the grass.

"Renn!" Sebastian squeaked.

I jumped. "Good morning, my friend!" I greeted, excited to see him. "Have you any more news?"

Sebastian slumped. "Not of the kind you're looking for, unfortunately. Honestly, I... I needed someone to confide a worry in."

I nodded. Honestly, I was surprised to see that something had broken his optimism.

"You know my friend, Mr. Fox?"

"I met him one of my first days here. He said he knew my father."

Sebastian's tail twitched with a sudden burst of excitement. "Oh! Yes, of course!" His ears drooped. "It's just that... ever since I got word of the Sons of Adam and Daughters of Eve being here... I haven't seen him. Or even heard something from him. He said he encountered some Wolves in the Shuddering Wood only a few hours before he got me to spread the news. I... I do hope nothing has happened to him."

Suddenly I grew quiet. I knew how the Witch usually liked to deal with traitors, but the thought of her having caught Mr. Fox unnerved me.

It meant she was close.

"Do... do you think he's alright?"

I forced a smile. "I'm sure he is. He's fast and cunning, so he'd be hard to catch."

Relief swarmed its way into Sebastian's little eyes, and remorse into mine. I looked away. I so wanted to tell him the truth. But doing that would be far more painful, I convinced myself.

"That he is!" Sebastian exclaimed. "Ah, why do I even worry for him? You are right, my friend. He should be alright!"

I smiled sadly. I hope he is.

"Well, I will let you get back to work," Sebastian continued. "If I hear of anything more, I will be sure to find you!"

I thanked him, and he scampered off. Smearing the herb paste I had been working on onto the bandage, I folded it how Bronwyn showed me, put it in a basket, and started towards the tent flaps.

People murmured and whispered back and forth to one another. Excitement buzzed around the entire camp. Even the dryads circled overhead.

A little taken aback, I started walking faster towards the training grounds, wanting to make my delivery to Flynn as fast as I could so I wouldn't miss whatever was going on. But before I even reached the hill, Rhydian and Flynn sped over the top and came straight to me, Geraint and Darian just behind them.

Flynn grinned as soon as he saw me and took the basket with the bandage in it. "That's going to feel better once it gets on," he said smiling. "Good timing." His brow furrowed. "Any idea what's going on?"

I shook my head just as a loud, triumphant horn call echoed across the valley. We all looked at each other.

Suddenly it grew very quiet. Weaponsmiths paused mid-stroke on swords and axes. Fauns who were shoeing the Centaurs and fashioning armor froze. More and more of the camp's inhabitants came out of the tents and lined the road that cut straight through the middle of the camp. I saw Bronwyn smile, brighter than I'd ever seen her smile before, and nod up the road away from Aslan's tent.

"Look!" she lipped to me.

I stood on my tiptoes but couldn't see over those in front of me.

But I could see Geraint, and he was beaming.

"What is it?" I said.

Without a word, he stretched his hand down to me, and I clambered up into the saddle in front of him.

"What is it?" I repeated myself.

He nodded towards Aslan's tent. "Look," he said, his voice shaking with excitement.

I craned my neck over the crowd. Oreius stomped a foot as he made his way in front of Aslan's tent. Though his face was stern, even his eyes were shining. Sitting up even straighter to see what he was looking at, my eyes scanned the grass in front of the tent. I couldn't see everything, but I spotted the tip of a bow and red-feathered arrows, all harbored in a gorgeous ivory quiver. Two tops of heads, one blonde and one very dark brown. A boy, somewhere between Rhydian and Geraint's ages, and a girl...

I didn't know whether to cheer or faint or cry. None of us did.

Suddenly a sword rang from its sheath, the tip of it visible above the crowd. And the boy's voice, young but authoritative, pealed through the camp like a bell:

"We have come to see Aslan."