Hope you guys liked my last chapter! Didn't get a whole lot of feedback, but I expect that to change.
This chapter is all backstory. I'm thinking that the next may be, too. This chapter ended up longer than I thought, so I'm extending the backstory.
I think this story may end up being the longest I've ever written.
"You're... you're King Edmund?" Zebah's eyes flashed with excitement, "You're him?"
"Quiet," Edmund shushed, "You don't want to let the whole camp know."
"Right." Zebah's smile vanished in an instance, "Whatever are you going to do? They will surely recognize you once the sun sheds on your armor. They will know."
"I don't know. Is it enough to hope that they will be stupid enough not to check our armor once we take it off?" It wasn't much, but at least it wasn't a big red arrow pointing to him saying 'here's the king of Narnia.'
Zebah gave a pained look, "I doubt they would be so careless as to get rid of perfectly good armor, but it's worth a shot."
Edmund unstrapped the belts that held his armor in place. He pulled of each little piece of armor off until he wore only his tunic and trousers and boots. It wasn't much for protection, but Edmund figured they would take the armor from him, anyways.
The other Narnians followed Edmund's lead, and stripped themselves of their armor. The metal clanged as the various pieces of armor were thrown onto the pile.
"There." Edmund said with a hint of satisfaction.
Zebah smiled, "These Calormen are not very observant. With any luck, they won't know that you were ever brought in with the other Narnian prisoners. You can't keep that name, though. Not if you're to survive here. You need something different, something Archlandish, maybe?"
"I'm afraid I don't know much about Archland names. I know only those of your kings and queens." Edmund had never done much work with Archland. When he did, it was only with the king and with Peter leading negotiations.
"I know!" Zebah beamed with the joy of his new idea, "I shall call you Umed."
"Umed?"
"Yes. Umed." The boy smiled, "It means hope."
"Hope?" Edmund wasn't sure why he needed a name with such meaning. Any old name would do fine for him.
"You are my hope, Umed. You have come here for a reason that only Aslan knows. I am proud to be a part of His plan. Aslan has never seemed so close before; He was always a sort of distant dream that one can continue to wish for it to come true, but it always remains just out of reach. A dream that I wished to dream every night - the good sort of dream that helps you wake with a new enthusiasm for the coming day. Now, that day has come. I shall be willing for whatever Aslan asks of me."
Zebah was truly special boy. It eluded Edmund as to how Aslan could possibly let this angel stay in captivity for so long. He had the most willing heart Edmund had ever seen, and his eyes didn't contain the emptiness that a slave's eyes normally contained; in fact, he seemed to contain more life inside him than Edmund had seen in any one of his subjects and any of his friends - sort of like Lucy, he supposed. They would make good friends if they had ever got to meet.
"What is Aslan like?" Zebah wondered to Edmund, bringing the king back to the moment.
At first, he said nothing, for everything had come to his mind at once. The name of Aslan triggered many fond memories. Edmund wasn't sure that they would have enough time for him to explain the Great Lion. Was there any explaining Him at all? He could try his best, but Edmund knew he would never do Aslan justice with his words - or anything else, for that matter.
"Aslan... Aslan is everything He is said to be and more. No history books would ever be able to put His magnificence on paper. He is kind, but disciplinary. He is merciful, yet just. He is beauty, yet might. He is strong, yet tender. He is peace, yet he is power. Aslan never does what we think should be done, but what He knows is best for us all. There's no way to describe Him in such few words. Everything He does is a mystery, yet you can't help but feel your heart melt when He says your name, when He calls you His child."
Zebah gave him a troubled look, "Am I His child?"
"Zebah," Edmund began, "I've only just met you, but I could tell from the moment we began to speak that you are different. You behave in a way that shows me that you belong to Him. You speak of Him with such fondness and love, even though you've never even seen Him. Your faith in Him exceeds that of the High King himself. Everything you've said has told me that you live only for Him, and you are joyful. If that doesn't make you His child, then I don't know what does."
Zebah's face lit up, "Do... you think He would be proud of me?"
Edmund smiled fondly at him, "I don't think He could be more proud to call you His son."
The boy smiled, "Could you... tell me more about Narnia?"
Edmund returned the smile, "Of course."
PSELPSELPSELPSELPSELPSELPSELPSELPSELPSEL
Edmund couldn't remember falling asleep, but he clearly must have, for he woke with the stinging sunlight biting at his eyes. It seemed like so long since he'd last seen the sun, but it was no more than half a day ago, at most
The Just King found it most comfortable to just continue laying on the bottom of the caged floor. His muscles ached from sitting up against hard bars half of the night while talking with Zebah and from the battle they'd had the previous night.
Zebah had been most intrigued by the stories Edmund told. He spoke of the days just after entering Narnia and about all the expeditions he and Peter had been on over the course of the years after Beruna. He was beginning to get a bit homesick while telling of all his fond memories, but he couldn't stop while Zebah gave him the look that he did.
Zebah gave small bits about what he remembered of his family in Archland, but it wasn't much. He remembered his home town and the name of his mother, but not much else..He remembered that his mother was with child when he was captured all those years ago, but he never knew if it was a boy or a girl or even what they planned to name it.
Edmund and Zebah had not stopped sharing stories until Zebah lay fast asleep beside him, curled into a ball. The king appreciated that the boy didn't treat him as royalty. He never cared for the fancy title or special attention, and it certainly wouldn't help in his current situation.
It seemed rather odd that just yesterday, Edmund was a king, but now, he was reduced to a lowly slave - or at least he would be, soon. If Ziddim didn't show up before too long, then he was as good as a slave already.
Aslan speed to you, Captain.
"Hey!"
Edmund was alerted by a voice from outside the cage. He sat up, ignoring the protest of his sore body. The rest of the captives joined in his alarm and sat up as well, some of them moving to the back of the cage to get further from the Calormene standing outside the locked door. Zebah still sat beside him, wiping the sleep from his eyes.
"Which one of you owns this breastplate?"
Edmund saw his piece of armor lifted before them. His breath hitched in his throat and he looked to Zebah. Zebah gave him a troubled look, his brown eyes looking back with worry.
"Well? If nobody confesses soon, I'll have to see that one of these little fauns gets their legs broken. We all know how useful a slave with broken legs is."
The voice drew both sets of eyes back to the Calormene. There was a moment's hesitation, and the Calormene moved to open the door. Edmund opened his mouth to confess the truth.
"It's my armor." Was what Edmund was going to say, but he never got to saying it. He heard it said though, so, if it didn't come from his mouth, then-
Edmund snapped his head to Zebah. Zebah stared at the Calormene and barely gave Edmund a glance. What was he doing?
"It belongs to me." Zebah said, confirming that Edmund had, indeed, heard correctly.
"I-" Edmund began, but he was cut off.
"Well, then, it would appear we have royalty in our midst." The Calormene dropped the breastplate and unlocked the door.
"Zebah!" Edmund said in an aggressive whisper.
"I know what Aslan has asked of me." Edmund just stared in shock, "You are my hope, Umed. This is all there is for me here. You're not done yet."
"Zebah." Was all Edmund could get out of his choked up throat.
"This is my choice and Aslan's will." Zebah smiled at him, "I know what I'm supposed to do."
"No, no, no... you can't."
The Calormene pulled Zebah up by the arms, "I'm free, now, Umed. I'm free."