Chapter 8: Digory and His Uncle are Both in Trouble

Uncle Andrew had convinced himself that the Lion wasn't singing, and therefore could not hear the song, nor could he hear the Lion speak. So when he saw all the animals stampeding towards him he ran, but he couldn't out run them. He could not understand them either, because he'd told himself that animals couldn't talk, and, in doing so, could not communicate with them.

The animals couldn't understand the frightened man and thought him to be a tree. So when the old man fainted, they planted him, right way up, and the She-Elephant watered him.

But the four others missed all of that. They were heading the other way, towards Aslan.

Digory, being on horseback, got there first. He wanted to ask the Lion if there was anything here, in this new world, that could help his mother to get better. As he drew closer, Digory knew that he couldn't interrupt so solemn a meeting, but he found there was no need to interrupt. At a word from Aslan, the council drew aside. Digory slipped off the horse and found himself faced with Aslan. He found that Aslan was bigger and more terrible than he thought. He couldn't bring himself to look the Lion in the eye.

"Please – Mr. Lion – Aslan – Sir," Digory stumbled out, not entirely sure how to address a Lion, "could you – may I – please will you give me some magic fruit of this country to make Mother well?"

Digory was desperately hoping the Lion would say 'Yes', and horribly worried that He would say 'No". He was quite surprised when the lion did neither.

"This is the Boy," Aslan said, never looking away from his councilors. "This is the Boy who did it."

"Oh dear," thought Digory, "what have I done now?"

"Son of Adam," the Lion addressed Digoty now. "There is an evil Witch abroad in my new land of Narnia. Tell these good Beasts how she came here."

Digory thought of no less than a dozen reasons and things he could say, but had the sense to speak the truth.

"I brought her here, Aslan," he answered in a low voice, eyes cast down.

"For what purpose?"

"I wanted to get her out of my own world back into her place. I thought I was taking her back to her own place."

"How came she to be in your world, Son of Adam?"

"By – by Magic."

Aslan did not speak and Digory knew that he had no told enough.

"It was my Uncle, Aslan," he explained. "He sent us out of our world by magic rings, at least I had to go because he sent Polly first, then we met the Witch, and her sister, in a place called Charn and she just held on to us when –"

"You met the Witch?" Aslan asked, his voice low with the treat of a growl.

"They woke up," Digory said wretchedly before he turned very white and amended himself. "I mean, I woke them. Because I wanted to know what would happen if I struck a bell. Polly didn't want to. It wasn't her fault I – I fought her. I know I shouldn't have. I think I was a bit enchanted by the writing under the bell."

"Do you?" asked Aslan, his voice still low and deep.

"No," admitted Digory. "I see now I wasn't. I was only pretending."

There was a pause, and all Digory could think about was that he'd ruined everything. He'd never get anything for Mother now.

When the Lion spoke once more it was not to Digor, but once ore to his councilors.

"You see, friends," he said, "that before the new clean world I gave you is seven hours old, a force of evil has already entered it, walked and brought here by this Son of Adam."

The Councillors and Strawberry all turned their eyes on Digory, who was wishing the ground would swallow him whole.

"But do not be cast down," continued Aslan, drawing the attention back to himself. "Evil will come of that evil, but it is still a long way off, and I will see to it that the worst falls upon myself. In the meantime, let us take such order that for many hundred years yet this shall be a merry land in a merry world. And as Adam's race has done you harm, Adam's race shall help to heal it. Draw near, you other three."

The last words were spoken to Polly, the Cabby and Dione, who had now arrived. Polly, eyes wide and mouth hanging open, was staring at Aslan and holding hands with the Cabby and Dione, her grip only tightening at being addressed.

Polly's grip on Dione's hand was probably the only reason she had ventured as close to the Lion and his council in the first place. Though she had decided to let them decide her fate, Dione was now rather worried about their decision. She wanted to run as her sister had, but she also could not allow herself to become that big of a coward. She was a Princess of Charn, she was raised to be brave and fearless, or at least that's what her parents and tutors had tried to teach her. She desperately tried to remember those lessons now, but none came to mind so she closed her eyes and tried to calm herself.

The Cabby gave one glance at the Lion and took off his bowler hat: no one had seen him without it. When it was off he looked younger, nicer, more like a countryman than a London cabman.

"Son," Aslan spoke to the Cabby, "I have known you long. Do you know me?"

"Well, no, sir," answered the Cabby. "Leastways, not in the ordinary manner of speaking. Yet, I feel somehow, if I may make so free, as 'ow we've met before."

"It is well," Aslan said. "You know better than you think you know, and you shall lie to know me better yet. How does this land please you?"

"It's a fair treat, sir."

"Would you like to live here always?"

"Well, you see sir, I'm a married man," explained the Cabby. "If my wife was here neither of us would ever want to go back to London, I reckon. We're both country folks, really."

Aslan threw back his head, opened his mouth, and uttered a long, single note; not very loud, but full of power.

Polly's heart jumped when she heard it. She felt it was a call, and whoever heard it would want to obey it and would be able to obey it, however many worlds and ages lay between. And so, though she was filled with wonder, she was not at all shocked or surprised when a young woman stepped out of nowhere and stood beside Dione. Polly knew at once this woman was the Cabby's wife, brought from England not,by troublesome magic rings, but quickly, simply and sweetly as a bird flies to its nest.

The young woman had apparently been in the middle of a washing day, as she was wearing an apron, her sleeves were rolled up to the elbow, and there were soap suds on her hands. But has she had time to dress in her best, should have looked dreadful; as she was in her simple clothes she looked rather nice.

She, of course, thought she was dreaming. Which is why she didn't rush to her husband to ask what had happened. When she looked at Aslan, she felt less like it was a dream, but she was not very frightened. She dropped into a half cutrsey before she walked to her husband and put her hand in his, looking around at everything shyly.

"My children," Alan fixed his gaze on both of them, "you are to be the first King and Queen of Narnia,"

The Cabby's mouth dropped open in astonishment, and his wife turned red.

"You shall rule and name all of these creatures and do justice among them, and protect them from their enemies when enemies arise. And enemies will arise, for there is an evil Witch in this world."

Dione flinched, it was hard to hear her sister called evil, though she knew it to be true. Her sister had killed their world to prevent Jora from taking the crown. Jadis had used the Deplorable Word and it had changed her. No one could use such dark Magic and come away wholly themselves, some part of the user had to die with the use of it, of that Dione was sure. But it was still hard to accept. Neither of her sisters had been overly kind or loving, they were cautious around each other, they allowed Dione closer, but now it had changed.

The Cabby, in shock from being told he was to be King, swallowed two or three times to clear his throat

"Begging your pardon, sir," he said "and thanking you very much. I'm sure (which my Missus does the same) but I ain't no sort of chap for a job like that, I never 'ad much eddycation, you see."

"Well," Aslan responded, "can you use a spade and a plow and raise food out of the earth"

"Yes sir, I could do a bit of that sort of work: being brought up to it, like."

"Can you rule these creatures kindly and fairly remembering hat they are not slaves like the dumb beasts of the world you were born in, but Talking Beasts and free subjects?"

"I see that sir," the Cabby answered. "I'd try to do the square thing by them all–"

"And would you bring up your children and grandchildren to do the same?"

"It be up to me to try, sir. I'd do my best: wouldn't we Nellie?"

"And you wouldn't have favorites either among your own children or among the other creatures or let any hold another under or use it hardly?"

"I never could abide such goings-on, sir, and that's the truth. I'd give 'em what for if I caught 'em at it," the cabby promised, his voice changing through the conversation, growing slower and richer. More like the country voice from his youth and less like the sharp, quick voice of a cockney.

"And if enemies came against the land (for enemies will arise) and there was war, would you be the first in the charge and the last in retreat?"

"Well, sir," the Cabby answered slowly, "a chap doesn't exactly know till he's been tried, I dare say I might turn out ever such a soft 'un. Never did no fighting except with my fists. I'd try – that is, I 'ope I'd try – to do my bit."

"Then," Aslan said, "you will have done all a king should do. Your coronation will be held presently and you and your children and grandchildren shall be blessed, and some will be Kings of Narnia and others will be Kings of Archland which lies yonder over the Southern Mountains." Aslan then turned to Polly. "And you, little Daughter are welcome. Have you forgiven the Boy for the violence he did you in the Hall of Images in the desolate palace of accursed Charn?"

"Yes, Aslan, we've made it up," Polly answered.

"That is well." Aslan nodded his great head before turning to Digory. "And now for the Boy himself."