Chapter 10: The Planting of a Tree

"Well done," praised Aslan. His voice shook the ground, and Digory knew all he Narnians had heard, and that they would tell his story for generations to come.

"Well done, Son of Adam," Aslan repeated. "For this fruit, you have hungered and thirsted and wept. No hand but yours shall sow the seed of the Tree that is to be the protection of Narnia. Throw the apple toward the riverbank where the ground is soft."

All were silent as Digory threw the silver apple. It landed with a soft thump in the mud.

"It is well thrown," remarked Aslan. "Let us now proceed with the coronation of King Frank of Narnia and Helen, his Queen.

The children noticed the couple for the first time since they landed. They were dressed in the fine clothes that had been brought earlier, rich robes fell from their shoulders. The King's train was held by four dwarves and the Queen's by four river nymphs. Their heads were bare, and Helen had let down her hair, making a great improvement in her appearance. Dione stood behind them in a new green dress, that was not quite as nice the King and Queens, but still very nice. She was smiling brightly at the children, glad to see them safely returned.

Both the King and Queen looked so different, but it was neither their hair nor their clothes that had changed them so much. Their faces had new expressions, especially the King's. All the sharpness and cunning and quarrelsomeness which he had picked up as a London cabby seemed to have been washed away, and the courage and kindness which he'd always had were easier to see.

"Upon my word," Fledge whispered to Polly. "My master's been changed nearly as much as I have! Why, he's a real master now."

"Yes, but don't buzz in my ear like that," said Polly, rubbing her ear to erase the tickling sensation. "It tickles so."

"Now," commanded Aslan, "some of you undo that tangle you have made with those trees and let us see what we shall find there."

There were four trees that grew close together and their branches had been woven together to make a sort of cage. The two Elephants with their trunks and a few dwarves with their little axes soon had it all untangled.

Inside the tangle were three things. Two were young trees, one made of silver and one made of gold. The third was a miserable object in muddy clothes, sitting hunched up between them.

"Gosh!" Digory whispered. "Uncle Andrew!"

The Beasts that had gone to investigate Uncle had planted him, thinking him a tree. But he woke from his faint when they watered him. So to keep him contained, until Aslan could look at him, the Beast had put him in the makeshift cage. The gold and silver trees grew from coins that had fallen out of his pocket. The poor man, whom the animals had named him Brandy since that was the noise he made the most, had been pelted with thistles, nuts, worms, and even a honeycomb as the animals tried to feed him, and was now quite distressed. He'd been left there all night as Aslan was quite busy.

"Bring out the creature," Aslan bid. One of the Elephants lifted Uncle Andrew in its trunk and laid him at the Lion's feet, leaving the man too frightened to move.

"Please, Aslan," Polly pleaded, "could you say something to – to unfrighten him? And then could you say something to prevent him from ever coming back here again?"

"Do you think he wants to?" Aslan asked the girl.

"Well, Aslan," Polly responded, "he might send someone else. He's so excited about the bar off the lamp-post growing into a lamp-post tree and he thinks –"

"He thinks great folly, child," interrupted Aslan. "This world is bursting with life for these few days because the song with which I called it into life still hangs in the air and rumbles in the ground. It will not be so for long. But I cannot tell that to his old sinner, and I cannot comfort him either; he has made himself unable to hear my voice. If I spoke to him, he would only hear growlings and roarings. Oh, Adam's sons, how cleverly you defend yourselves against all that might do you good! But I will give him the only gift he is still able to receive."

Aslan bowed his head and breathed into the Magian's face. "Sleep and be separated for a few hours from all the torments you have devised for yourself." Uncle Andrew immediately rolled over, eyes closed, and began to sleep peacefully.

"Carry him aside and lay him down," commanded Aslan. "Now, dwarves! Show your smith-craft. Let me see you make two crowns for you King and Queen."

More Dwarves than you could dream of rushed forward to the Golden Tree. They had all its leaves stripped off, and some of its branches torn off too, before you could say Jack Robinson. It was then everyone could see that it more than looked gold, it was real gold.

From nowhere, it seemed, there were piles of dry brushwood for fuel, a little anvil, hammers, tongs, and bellows were produced. The next moment, the fire was blazing the bellows roaring, the gold melting, the hammers clinking.

Two Moles, that Aslan had sent out to dig earlier that day, poured out a pile of precious gems for the dwarves to use.

The clever fingers of the smiths created two beautiful crowns. They were not heavy things, like the crowns of Europe, but light, delicate, beautifully shaped circles that could really be worn. The King's was set with rubies and the Queen's with emeralds.

Once the crowns were cooled in the river, Aslan had Frank and Helen kneel before him as he crowned them. Then he said "Rise up King and Queen of Narnia, father and mother of many kings that shall be in Narnia and the Isles and Archland. Be just and merciful and brave. The blessing is upon you."

Everyone cheered in their own way and the royal pair stood, looking solemn and a little shy, but nobler in their shyness. And while everyone was cheering, Digory heard the deep voice of Aslan say:

"Look!"

Everyone turned to look, and all drew a breath of wonder and delight. A little way off, towering over their heads they say a tree which had certainly not been there before. It had grown silently, yet swiftly, while everyone was busy with the coronation. The branches seemed to reflect light, rather than create shade, and the silver apples peeped out like stars. But it was the smell that came from the tree that drew everyone to it. And for a moment no one could think of anything else.

"Son of Adam," said Aslan, "you have sown well. And you, Narnians, let it be your first care to guard this Tree for it is your Shield. The Witch of whom I told you had fled far away into the North of the world; she will live on there growing stronger in dark Magic. But while that Tree flourishes she will never come down into Narnia. She dare not come within a hundred miles of the Tree, for its smell, which is joy and life and health to you, is death and horror and despair to her."

Dione stared at the Tree as Aslan spoke. She couldn't believe that something that smelled so sweet, so lovely, could keep her sister away. But if it could, she would protect it to her dying breath. She'd sworn to help stop her sister, and sworn her loyalty to Narnia, and she would not break that oath.

All the Narnians stared solemnly at the Tree, when Aslan turned back to the children, fixing his eyes on them as they nudged and whispered to one another.

"What is it, children?"

"Oh – Aslan, sir," Digory spoke, turning red. "I forgot to tell you. The Witch has already eaten one of the apples, one of the same kind that Tree grew from." Not having said everything he was thinking, Polly spoke up.

"So we thought, Aslan, that there must be some mistake, and she can't really mind the smell of those apples."

"Why do you think that, Daughter of Eve?"

"Well, she ate one."

"Child," Aslan comforted, "that is exactly why all the rest are now a horror to her. That is what happens to those who pluck and eat fruits at the wrong time and in the wrong way. The fruit is good, but they loathe it ever after."

Dione had lost hope when Polly said her sister had eaten, but Aslan's words soothed her fears, as well as Polly's.

"Oh, I see," Polly had one more question though. "And I suppose because she took it the wrong way it won't make her always young and all that?"

"Alas," Aslan shook his head sadly. "It will. Things always work according to their nature. She has won her heart's desire; she has unwavering strength and endless days like a goddess. But length of days with an evil heart is only length of misery and already she begins to know it. All get what they want; they do not always like it."

"I – I nearly ate one myself, Aslan," Digory admitted. "Would I –"

"You would, child," Aslan already knew what he was going to ask. "For the fruit always works – it must – but it does not work happily for any who pluck it at their own will. If any Narnian, unbidden, had stolen an apple and planted it here to protect Narnia, it would have protected Narnia. But it would have done so by making Narnia into another strong and cruel empire like Charn, not the kindly land I meant it to be. And the Witch tempted you to do another thing, my son, did she not?"

"Yes, Aslan. She wanted me to take an apple home to Mother."

"Understand, then, that it would have healed her; but not to your joy or hers. The day would have come when both you and she would have looked back and said it would have been better to die in that illness."

Digory could not reply, for his tears choked him and he gave up hope of saving his mother. He felt two arms encircle him and hold him. Dione couldn't bear to see the young boy cry. She'd met his mother and knew how much he loved her. She only wished there was something she could do.

But Aslan knew what would have happened, and some things are worse than losing someone you love by death.

"That is what would have happened child, with a stolen apple," Aslan whispered to the boy. "It is not what will happen now. What I give you now will bring joy. It will not, in your world, give endless life, but it will heal. Go. Pluck her an apple from the Tree.

For a moment, Digory couldn't understand what was happening. It was like the world turned upside down and inside out. As if in a dream, he walked to the Tree, the King, Queen, and Dione cheering, and plucked an apple, and put it in his pocket. Then came back with a simple request.

"Please, may we go home now?" He forgot to say 'Thank you' but he meant it, and Aslan knew.