Edmund pushed the horse as fast as she could go; his hood had long since fallen back to his shoulders. The horse heaved heavy breaths as the wind dashed past them both.
Upon turning his head back, Edmund realized that the camp was just a small cluster of dots in the distance. No soldiers rode after him; Edmund supposed that there were too few of them to risk sending someone. If one slave escaped the others could be encouraged to attempt an escape, as well.
Edmund's attention was directed elsewhere when he suddenly heard a familiar sound: horrid screams and the clanging of weapons. His horse has taken him right in the direction he had needed to go.
The moment he has made it to the top of the hill his horse stopped. She saw the battle taking place, just as Edmund did. The two of them stood in stunned silence for a few moments. Soldiers killed soldiers; Calormene men killed Narnian beasts and vice versa. The battle was one of the bloodier ones he'd seen in his time in Narnia.
One voice rang above all the others on the field, "Fight! Fight for your families! Fight for Aslan!"
Edmund saw Peter in middle of it all, leading his soldiers like he had so many times before. He yelled bits of motivation to the Narnians as he himself cut down Calormene after Calormene. It was clear to Edmund that Peter was pushing his way through the seemingly endless ranks, trying to make his way to Judas. The Tisroc stayed behind his soldiers, only once in a while bothering to bloody his sword.
Once he had snapped out of his daze, Edmund kicked his heel into his horse's side. She whinnied and trotted forward a few steps. Before they had made it very far at all a Narnian leopard violently tackled down a Calormene soldier, startling the horse. She bucked up and threw Edmund off of her back. He fell the the earth roughly, and all the wind was knocked from his lungs. The horse ran back up the hill and was quickly out of sight.
No wonder she was left behind. Edmund thought when he had finally regained himself and got to his feet, rubbing the back of his head where he would surely have a bruise. It wasn't the first time he had been thrown from the back of a horse, but nobody could ever get used to it.
Edmund gathered up his dropped scimitar and neared the battle. The leopard who had just killed the Calormene caught his eye and froze in place, staring in utter shock. Edmund was just about to call out for the leopard to watch his back, but he was too late. A Calormene struck the slashed the leopard across the side, leaving a deep cut on his side and causing him to fall to the dirt. The soldier lifted his scimitar to deal the final blow, but Edmund had advanced upon him too quickly for either of them to know what had happened.
The Calormene lay dead at Edmund's feet, one pierced hole right where the heart was. He didn't have long to celebrate his kill before he had moved to the leopard's side. The creature breathed heavy breaths in and out. Edmund bent down next to him.
"Hold on, friend. Help is on the way." He said, gently touching the side of the leopard's head.
"I... I thought that- that I... saw my... king." The leopard said between breaths.
"Hush, be still. Your king is here."
The leopard's eyes widened. He turned his head to look at Edmund, once more, then, his eyes closed and he fell into unconsciousness.
Edmund could hear the sound of approaching hooves. He quickly pulled his hood back over his head; he didn't want what happened to this leopard to happen to anybody else, so when two fauns spotted the injured leopard, he left them to tend to him.
The two fauns stopped by the side of the leopard and pulled out a stretcher. The leopard was quickly loaded on and taken back through the ranks. Not even once did they look up or even acknowledge Edmund's presence, but he watched until the three forms were out of sight, before he charged into the fray.
PSELPSELPSELPSELPSELPSELPSELPSELPSELPSEL
Lucy hardly got a moment of rest. Iason had her rushing this way and that, healing those who would die without her cordial. Even Iason was surprised at the amount of soldiers that were almost doomed. It was good that Lucy has come; many would have died without her.
"Queen Lucy!" The master healer called. "Over here!"
Lucy got up from her place at the side of a recovering minotaur, and crossed the healing tent, stopping at the side of a very injured looking leopard.
"He needs your cordial. He's lost a lot of blood; he'll die without it."
If Lucy had been told differently, she would have thought that the leopard was dead, already; he had a long bloody slash on his side and he his breathing was almost too low to notice.
Lucy quickly opened the top of her cordial and carefully poured a drop into the leopard's mouth. At first, nothing happened, but, after a few moments, the leopard sucked in a deep breath and opened his eyes, the wound on his side fading into a scar.
"My King!" He shouted and tried to rise to his paws, but the healers prevented him.
"It's alright." Lucy soothed, running her fingers through his spotted fur. "You're alright now."
The leopard relaxed his heavy breathing and layed back down. "Queen Lucy. I... I saw my king."
"Peter? Is he alright? I've been terribly worried about him."
The leopard shook his head. "Whether a creation of my own mind in my delirious state or the king himself sent by Aslan to me in what I thought was my dying momentsI saw King Edmund."
Edmund? This leopard must have been pretty bad off. Lucy thought. If she had waited much longer to get the cordial to him, he may have died.
"Did he say anything?" Lucy inquired.
"I can't remember much of anything - I can't even remember how I was injured - but I do remember one thing he said. He said to me, 'Your king is here.'"
Lucy wanted anything to believe that it was truly Edmund alive that the leopard had seen, but it was impossible. The leopard had been near death when he recalled seeing her brother. Surely he could have seen Edmund if he had been so close to Aslan's country.
"Queen Lucy," Iason said. "The fauns who brought him in can't recall seeing His Majesty, King Edmund."
That was all Lucy needed to hear for what little hope she had to fade altogether. Of course it wasn't real. Edmund was gone. Her brother was dead.