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Chapter 12: The Second Son of Adam

Patience had never been one of my strongest suits. Keeping it whilst waiting for my brothers' return from what could have been – no, what was – their most dangerous mission to date was next to impossible. Every several minutes I poked my head around the corner of the healers' tent, watching for movement in the trees. For the pounding of hooves against the grass. Every time I came back disappointed.

Bronwyn smiled at me as I came back inside. Though she was also worried, the sparkle in her dark eyes failed to show it.

"Did you see anything?" she asked, very well knowing the answer.

I shook my head. "The sun set long ago," I said, frowning. "Is it supposed to take this long?"

Bronwyn sighed. "I don't know. But your brothers – as well as mine – are swift fighters. This is what they have spent so long training for. They'll be back soon."

The air in her voice made her sound as if she were trying to convince herself of her own words. Silence claimed the tent. I took a few steps forward.

"My father is away at war, too," Lucy, who had come with me, suddenly said. "When I get scared for him, I think about what I like about him best. Or things we've done together that were fun. It makes him seem a bit closer." She smiled at me. "For example, since I've been so worried for Edmund, I've reminded myself about how smart he is. He's quite the strategist. I've never once seen him outwitted, and that gives me hope that he will be alright."

I nodded, taking her advice. I started to think of everything I loved about Rhydian and Geraint.

"My brothers are both brave," I started hesitantly. "And strong. Rhydian gives the best hugs; Geraint is slow to anger and calm."

A smile slowly formed on my face. Already I began to feel a little better. Lucy grinned.

"Both of them are wise," I went on, more comfortable. "I feel as though I can ask them about anything and they'll have an answer. They'll also lend an ear to anyone who needs one. Geraint especially can make anyone feel at ease with him and themselves. He's the most level-headed person I know." I suddenly laughed. "If there's anyone out of the three of us who comes close to having Mother's temper, it's not him…."

My eyes suddenly bugged a bit as I realized what I had just said. Bronwyn tensed. Lucy's brow furrowed.

"Renn?"

I looked at her, hoping my face didn't betray my apprehension.

"Are you alright?"

"Yes," I replied quickly. "Quite. I—" I paused as I fumbled with an excuse "—I simply forgot what I was saying. That's all."

To my relief, Lucy believed me.

"That's alright," she said. "We all do from time to time."

I nodded.

"But it's as you said, Renn," Lucy went on, standing and walking across the room towards me. She put a small hand on my shoulder. "They are both strong and wise. They will be alright; I'm certain of it."

How she was able to console me of my troubles while carrying a considerable burden of her own still baffles me to this day. I offered a small smile to her, in awe of her strength and, more acutely, her faith that all would be well.

I could only hope that she was right.

Night passed slowly. Alone in our big tent, I found it next to impossible to sleep. The quiet gnawed on my anxious heart. Would I hear hoof beats and the clank of armor within the next minute? The next hour?

Would I hear it at all?

I frowned. Without Rhydian's reassuring smile or Geraint's gentle pat on the back to cajole me, it was hard to keep a positive mind. A trickle of moonlight streamed through the crack in the tent flap, brightening the dark shadow of the tent to a soft grey.

The silhouettes of two empty hammocks swung in the light breeze. A knot formed in my stomach. Drawing in a forceful sigh, I turned away from them, afraid that if I eyed them for too long, I would lose my mind.

Again I took Lucy's advice and tried to distract myself with happier memories. I thought of the first night after we ran, all those years ago. Of Rhydian and Geraint attempting to build a fire; of Rhydian attempting to light it with the small ounce of magic he possessed and failing spectacularly. The smell of the smoke, the echo of Rhydian's surprised yelp, the steam wafting up around him as he shoved his smoldering hands far beneath the snow. It brought a smile to my face.

That had been so long ago. If we'd only known how far we would come, of who and what we would see in the coming years. Had a messenger been sent to tell us of all we would accomplish, we would have thought him crazy.

Something moved outside, casting a shadow onto the tent, but I was too preoccupied to care. Shutting my eyes, I tried to will myself to sleep, but to no avail. After another hour of fighting, I finally began to drift off.

Suddenly the ground around me shook. People outside began shouting. Armor clanked, and I sprang to my feet.

They were back.

As fast as I could, I sprinted out into the main camp. The moon had set; the light in the sky proclaimed the sun would soon be taking its place. Rounding around the corner of a large tent, I ran to meet the tracking party as they slowed on the green. A grin burst across my face when I spotted my brothers.

"Rhydian!" I cried. "Geraint!"

Pushing through the throng, I flew to their sides. Both of them were bruised and covered in dirt and smelled of sweat and blood. Their faces, however, shone like new stars in a dark sky. Hope drowned out any traces of exhaustion.

"Did you—"

"We found him," Geraint replied softly, a smile on his lips. "He was in the middle of the camp, tied to a tree. Oreius took him." He snickered. "Rhydian vacated his old spot with the Dwarf."

Rhydian smirked proudly. "Pinned his hat to the bark with his dagger, just to add to the mortification."

I laughed. The image I harbored in my head of the Dwarf scrambling under his new bonds – of the look on the Witch's face when she found her puppet – was nothing short of satisfying. Smiling, I threw my arms around my brothers' necks, happy they were both alive.

Hooves pounded into the ground behind us. Bronwyn sped down the path, drawing herself to a sharp halt.

"The Son of Adam," she said, winded. "Where is he? Is he alright?"

The crowd parted, and Oreius came to his sister, the rescued prisoner in question limp in his arms. Other than deep circles under his eyes and a good cut on his lip, he was not hurt, much to the Centaur's relief. Oreius gently passed him to her, careful not to jostle him.

Bronwyn looked over her shoulder at me. "Come with me, Renn," she instructed, starting off at a brisk walk towards an empty tent. "We'll make him comfortable. But I want you to stay and watch over him. If anything should happen, send for me."

Morning came, and with it a blanket of soft, golden light. As Bronwyn told me to, I stayed by Edmund's side as he slept, watching him for any signs of complications. A good part of the color had come back to his fair-skinned face in the time that he had been back. Aside from being exhausted, nothing seemed to be wrong.

Finding nothing else to do, I studied the boy's face. The shadow of the tent made it hard to distinguish any of his features, aside from his jet-black hair. He seemed to be about my age. I thought I saw freckles dotted across his nose and cheeks. Not for the first time, I found myself wondering what color his eyes were. I expected them to be bright, like his siblings'.

A gentle breeze blew through the tent, blowing a piece of Edmund's hair into his face. Gingery I reached out to smooth it back into place.

The second my fingers touched him, his eyes snapped open as he snatched my hand away. His breath was labored, having been winded by panic.

"It's alright," I said softly. "You're in Aslan's camp. You're safe now."

Edmund's eyes darted around the room as he calmed down. "She's gone?"

I smiled and nodded.

Edmund blew out a sigh of relief. Stiffly he sat up, standing and facing the tent flaps. He was about my height, I noted.

"I've someone I need to find," he said, fatigue scratching at his voice. "Well… three someones. My brother and my sisters. You wouldn't know where to find them, would you?"

"They're across the way," I replied. "Most likely still asleep."

"I don't think I'll disturb them, then." A brief smile quirked on Edmund's lips as he pulled at the tent flaps. "Caused enough trouble already. Though I could stand some fresh air."

Carefully he stepped out into the sunlight, his back to me as he surveyed the camp for the first time. "But just for future reference," he started, turning around to face me. "Where are their…"

Our eyes met, and for whatever reason of nature, I suddenly found it hard to breathe.

"Tents…."

Edmund's eyes weren't the bright, striking orbs I imagined they'd be. They were dark and deep, the golden morning light catching the brown in his irises and softening his gaze. It was mesmerizing.

There had to have been something in the morning air that addled both of our brains, I surmised. Neither of us found in us the ability to speak.

"Um…." he tried again, shoving his hands into his pockets. "You said… did you—"

"They're behind you," I replied, still inexplicably breathless. "The… their tents. They…. They're—" I gestured over his shoulder with my index finger.

My heart was pounding. My palms were sweating. Was I sick?

"Oh," Edmund nodded, smiling a bit. "Thanks." He took a step towards me, his brow knitting as he searched my face. "What's your name?"

From behind me, I heard Rhydian and Geraint round the corner, suddenly ceasing their conversation to watch ours. I must have looked rather ill, because both of they murmured back and forth between themselves.

But if I looked that bad, why were they smiling?

"Renn," I managed, feeling color rise to my cheeks.

I had always been shy, but this timidity was different. I couldn't explain it, but it almost felt… warmer. Sweeter.

"I'm Edmund," the Son of Adam replied, seemingly struck with the same strange illness I had abruptly come down with. Suddenly he smiled, which in turn made a grin shoot across my face.

I didn't know what it was, but there was something about him that made it impossible for me to lower my gaze. Though there were others around – my brothers still stood several paces behind me, beaming – I was oblivious to their presence.

An entire world moved past me, though at the moment, Edmund seemed to be the only one in it. We were both stuck in the same trance, unmoving but too bewildered by the strange spell that had befallen us to move or speak.

"Edmund?" a deep, familiar voice tugged us back to reality. The Lion padded through the grass towards us, a warmth that I had never seen before resting in his eyes.

I could not describe the look on Edmund's face when he saw who was approaching, but I knew I would never forget it.

"Aslan," he breathed.

"My child," Aslan softly replied as he came up alongside Edmund. "Would you walk with me? We have much to discuss."

I knew what Aslan meant, but there was no condemnation in his voice. Only a warm, all-encompassing love, one that I could tell had struck Edmund straight to his core. Gently I smiled at him. Slowly he nodded, hanging his head.

Aslan's eyes smiled. "Come," he gently directed, turning towards the top of a nearby cliff.

Edmund trepidly came towards the Lion, unable to meet his gaze. Aslan softly spoke to him, reassuring him as they slowly padded off into the distance. Briefly Edmund looked over his shoulder and offered a sad smile of thanks, and I returned it, hoping it gave him some small measure of comfort.

After all, Geraint had been right.

If Aslan could forgive us, he could forgive anyone.