The knot in Edmund's stomach never left. He held in inside even when he and the rest of the prisoners were moved out. Their hands were tied in front of them and each had a rope around their neck which connected them in a long line. Edmund was tied at the back of that line. He wasn't sure if that was a good thing or bad. He didn't have to worry about anyone behind him stumbling or stepping on his feet, but he was closer to the slavers and the target of their tauntings.

Edmund's grief was too great to think of anything else. He didn't know Zebah well, but the boy had so much going for him. He was unlike anyone Edmund had ever known. Given the chance, the two of them may have been great friends one day... but Zebah's life had been cut short. The brightest star in a sky of dimming lights snuffed out in place of another. Edmund had heard the screams. Thank Aslan he didn't have to see what they did to him, but his heart had shattered when one scream was cut short and a sickening silence followed.

Why Aslan let something so horrible happen to a boy who was all but an angel, was a mystery to Edmund. He deserved to be the one whose screams were heard. He deserved to be the one lying alone and dead on the ground, far away from friends and family.

"Slave scum." One particular Calormene prodded Edmund with the tip of his sword. "You soft or something?"

Edmund refused to look up. "He didn't deserve to die."

"What do you know? That slime was a nuisance to our country. His family will thank us for ending the life of that traitor."

Edmund said nothing to reply. The words hurt, yes, but not as much as the knowledge that he caused the death of someone as innocent as Zebah.

"No matter." The slaver said, "You'll be someone else's problem by the end of the day."

PSELPSELPSELPSELPSELPSELPSELPSELPSELPSEL

The market was bustling with Calormen of all shapes and sizes. No pitying looks were given to the state of the slaves, rather most of the men seemed intrigued by him. They seemed to be inspecting him, deciding whether he was something they'd want to spend their money on. It sickened Edmund. Slaves were people just like they were. Edmund was a king even.

One man in particular seemed to take a shine to him. While they were waiting by the auction platform, the Calormene had walked up to him. He grabbed Edmund by the jaw and turned his head from side to side. Once the man let go, he grabbed Edmund's arm and squeezed it. He then moved to Edmund's back and lifted his shirt, probably checking for scarring.

"This one hasn't got any discipline marks." The man said to one of the slavers.

"Must be new. Hard to keep track of all the slaves we bring in."

"Is he trouble?"

The slaver shook his hatted head, "Hasn't given us any trouble."

"Well, if he decides to give me any trouble, I'll just have to show him his place."

"Hold it." A new man said.

Both buyer and slaver turned to the new speaker, "Lord Tisroc. King Judas." The men bowed low. The King was surrounded by members of his guard.

"How may I serve you?" The slaver asked.

"I want five of your best slaves. I want them ready to set out in ten minutes."

"But, Tisroc, the auction is to start within the hour. You may choose your slaves there, if you like."

King Judas shook his head, "I will pay you their worth. Get them ready to leave immediately."

PSELPSELPSELPSELPSELPSELPSELPSELPSELPSEL

"Oh, Ed, I'm so sorry." Peter sympathized.

Edmund shook his head. "It's not your fault. You thought I was dead. If I'd only known you weren't looking for me-"

"I never should have believed it. I should have been looking for. I'm so, so sorry."

"I'm not mad at you. You were right to grieve for me. I was as good as dead before I knew we were coming here. There's no return from slavery; everybody knows it." Edmund lowered his head, but Peter grabbed his chin and lifted it back up.

"There can be. There will be. That's a promise. I already failed you once. I could never forgive myself if I let Judas walk away and you with him."

"You didn't fail me." Edmund assured, "I'm the one who failed. It's my fault. People died because of my foolishness. Zebah died."

"You seem really fond of this Zebah, but you couldn't have known him. You couldn't have known him well at all."

Edmund shook his head, "I didn't even know him for a whole day - hardly a whole night - but he was different. He was an Aslan send. He believed Aslan would set him free; he believed Aslan had a plan for him. Zebah said that I was his hope; that's why he sacrificed himself. I suppose he was right, in the end. Aslan did set him free."

"Zebah was sent from Aslan. There was a reason that he sacrificed himself. He wouldn't have done it if he didn't know that you were to go much further than the confines of slavery. Aslan will set you free, but not the way he set Zebah free."

"Then what are we supposed to do? I'm a slave, and Aslan seems adamant on keeping it that way."

Peter grabbed him by the shoulders, "If Aslan is done with you, then what were you doing here? You are precious to Him. He died for you, just like Zebah did. Just because Aslan came came back doesn't make it any less of a sacrifice."

Edmund heaved a shaky sigh, "I know, I know... I just, don't know what to do."

Peter pulled Edmund closer and touched their foreheads together through the bars, "We'll figure it out. Aslan help us, we will set you free. We are much stronger together than we are apart, and that's how we'll fight this. We'll do it together."