The Making of Aravis

Chapter 2: The Road to Armouthe

Several weeks later, King Lune and his two sons, along with Aravis, accompanied by numerous courtiers and soldiers bid a tearful farewell to the staff of the castle, promising to visit as often as they could. The folk of Anvard Town were gathered in their finery to bid their King farewell. A holiday had been declared and there was some pomp along the high road down from the Castle from which were billowing gay pennants from every turret. The green and white tabards of Anvard with blue cloaks and silver armour shone in the sun. The three Royal Gryphons were swooping about above the cavalcade, glittering like brass and copper in the sun grandly, red and gold leg jesses trailing. Some of the Centaurs from Fernwood on the other side of Mount Pyre had come for the occasion and stood bare-chested on either side at the town gate singing songs of blessings, farewells and good luck. There were even a few black fleeced fauns and red fleeced satyrs capering about the cavalcade, pipes a'piping and tambors a'beating.

Aravis and Cor had seen a thing or two in their travels and in the last few years, but had never been honoured in such a way. Aravis found she had more than a tear in her eye and was glad she had thought to bring a handkerchief.

Aravis had grown very tall and lean, her womanly curves softening a striking and handsome figure. She sat astride a black horse, two ranks behind King Lune who was flanked by Cor and Corin. She could see Cor, looking a little stiff and staring straight ahead. She felt for him but he was better than he had been used. Corin as ever, rode easy, looking about himself and grinning, and waving to some of the young women blowing kisses. They also had both grown tall and Cor had at last filled out and put on almost as much muscle as his brother, even if not a match in a fight, both resplendent in scarlet and white, with Cole and Colin and Dar immediately in front of her in green and blue like the soldiers. She was flanked on one side by Lord Shar of the Kaish in sombre brown but with a fine white turban festooned with a cockade of pheasant plumes and his scimitar by his side; on the other by Tran Dinh of the Lone Islands who was dressed in a many folded baggy suit of dark blue and white with a small black cap over his long black plaits which hung down to his waist holding his long polished hardwood fighting stick gracefully in his left hand, his right holding the reins in a relaxed pose. Together they were the three foreign noble wards of Archenland.

For the occasion, Aravis had made a point of dressing in the Grand Calormene manner, wearing her long blue-black curls tumbled down her back, a few bright silver beads scattered about, with her side tresses caught up in a neat topknot with silver ornaments. She eschewed the traditional kohl eyeliner which she knew made the Archen people uncomfortable. She wore an orange-brown long-sleeved shirt with puffed shoulders and matching billowing pantaloons, cinched at the ankle, with silver-studded toe-turned heeled riding shoes. This was just one of several traditional outfits that her father had been gracious enough to bring with him when he had finally visited only 8 months ago, just before the Narnian disappearance.

Aravis had very mixed feelings as they left Anvard behind and she turned in her saddle more than once to gaze back at the small castle gleaming in the sunlight one last time. She noticed Cor doing the same thing and flashed him a rueful smile. It was the place they had both come to call home for three years now and though she knew she would not truly miss the deep ice and snow of the mountain winter here, it had been a life changing experience and one that she was grateful she would never forget.

Knowing Cor as well as she did, she had no real fear that he would adapt to Armouthe in time, once he learned to accept that most of his anxieties were unfounded and to just take things one step at a time.

But she could not give herself the same reassurance. Here she was travelling as a foreign ward in a retinue to the real seat of power in this country; not the rustic backwater at the top of the range with idyllic views across the tumbled southlands of the Winding Arrow and its tributaries from the Archen Mountains and across the erg of the Great Southern Desert. She was now heading to a bustling tidal river port with traders and ships and oyster beds and fish smells and seaweed and dolphins and storehouses and granaries and timberyards and a marketplace and a prison and a healing house and a hospital and a real court and a real throne in a much larger castle.

And there would be far more foreigners about than just Tran Dinh, Lord Shar and Aravis Tarkheena. Once they were gone, she knew she would stand out like a garnet in a field of quartz if she remained living with Cor and his family and would quickly become the object of speculation and gossip that would no doubt find its way back to the Tisroc. Well, she would just have to brace herself for what came. And Armouthe would no doubt have more than a few people of Calormene origin, perhaps even someone from Calavar. If so, she rather looked forward to being able to converse in easy southern Calormene dialect again, something she had not experienced for more than two years until her father Kidrash had visited for two weeks only eight months ago.

…

When her father had come to Archenland, he had not crossed the desert but had travelled in a sailed trade ship with a single orange and red striped sail, all the way up the coast from Calavar, ostensibly selling oranges, dates and fabrics of silk and fine wool. He had been welcomed graciously by Lord Darrin and spent several days in Armouthe accommodated at the Calormene suite of the castle before being escorted with his small retinue up the road along the Winding Arrow. Being well briefed by Lord Darrin about the history, he had come to appreciate the reasons for the odd location of the King and his family and had expressed with qualified gratefulness, that she had not been thrust into the public eye in Armouthe, but kept in relative seclusion in Anvard. But all that was now about to change.

Back then, in late summer it had been, Aravis had anticipated the meeting with trepidation and had prevailed upon the steward to appoint several of the female servants to be in attendance upon her for her father's arrival, lest his fears of her being unchaperoned by the fairer sex were raised.

It had been a wise course, because it was something he remarked upon at once and it seemed to soften his tone. As it was, her father as his first action had put considerable effort into trying to negotiate with Lune a formal betrothal contract to be drawn up with either Cor or Corin so that his daughter's honour would not be brought into question. Aravis completely understood her father's position, but she had been most grateful to Lune for the manner in which these discussions were handled.

Firstly Lune had forewarned her to use a hidden listening post in a small chamber behind a screened wall, so she could hear both sides of the exchange and it was this which had given her such a strong sense of security about what would come of the meeting. Lune had been very pleasant and very patient. He had listened to all Kidrash's concerns and agreed that losing his last remaining child to another country must be very difficult and so on and so forth. Then he iterated his opinion, that Aravis was in his highest esteem, that he would be only too happy for Aravis to marry either of his sons if that was their mutual will, and thereby she could become Princess or even Queen of Archenland by marriage if that was how fate fell. However, he declared with a sterner tone under the circumstances, as Aravis had found it necessary to use complex subterfuge to flee her own land and her own father's home, to escape a forced child-marriage to a man who was old enough to be her grandfather, he considered it most important that she now come to the point of marriage in her own time and upon her own terms. Clearly she was a highly intelligent and talented young woman who needed to be much more in control of her own life. In any case he said, the law of this land forbade any involuntary marriage contracts and for good reason and that whilst she was in this country, let alone his family's fostering, she would always have the last say in any marriage arrangements. He added that his own sons may have to choose a spouse for reasons of state but that neither would they be forced into any marriage against their wills, to their undoubted unhappiness. Conversely, Lune said that a marriage alliance between Archenland and Calavar with Aravis father's sanction of course, would be a most welcome development, but that as far as he was concerned, if neither of his sons' nor Aravis's affections became directed that way, then all bets were off.

Kidrash responded by saying to his regret, he had had to accept his daughter's defection and the fact that she had effectively been adopted by the Archen royal family did ease his concerns. However, he demanded outright that Lune do all in his power to make sure his daughter was never married to a "baseborn son of a dog". This rather raised Lune's eyebrows as this was exactly what he had heard Ahoshta described as, the very one which Kidrash himself had negotiated a contract of marriage with for Aravis, but he said nothing. Kidrash sought Lune's assurances that Aravis would be steered and supported towards a marriage with none less than the rank of a regional lord. After some explanatory points, this Lune did assent to and they shook hands on the matter.

The conversation had then turned to the further education of Aravis, whether some furtherance of her Calormene tuition was possible and what structured kind of learning she was being exposed to in the Archen royal family. Lune had been prepared for this and had called for Aravis's, Cor's and Corin's chief tutors. The two came in together through the tall doors of the Anvard audience chamber. One was a slender, grave and bespectacled man of about fifty named Trumardin. He introduced himself to Kidrash with a low, low bow and described his early history as a student of the great legal historian and poet Sadri from the University of Tashbaan and later the Curator of the Royal Library of Archenland, tutoring the royal youngsters and the foreign wards in calligraphy, composition, heraldry, economics and Archen, Narnian and Calormene law. As if this was not enough to impress him, his companion, a tall centauress from Fernwood called Starbright took Kidrash's breath away, for he had heard of the strange demons abroad in these northern countries and never quite believed in them, much less dreamed that one might be tutoring his own daughter in astronomy, mathematics, geometry, architecture, geomancy and medicine. She strode gently into the audience chamber fully eight feet tall, clad only in an embroidered tabard, knelt down gracefully horse-fashion in her appointed space, inclined her head regally and then raised it to gaze intently at Kidrash with dark fathomless eyes.

Between them they were able to report that the Lady Aravis Tarkheena had proven a most apt student and that she was excelling at heraldry, dance, oratory, calligraphy, composition, architecture and geometry. Further, that she showed great promise in the area of law but that this was to be expected as the transition from Calormen to Archenland legal codes was bound to have held her back somewhat. Starbright and Trumardin then reported that regretfully Aravis was struggling somewhat in the field of medicine and economics, but they both expressed certainty that if she continued to put as much effort into her studies in future years, perhaps until she was at least 25, that she could be expected to take up any manner of senior positions in the administrations of Archenland, Narnia or the various Isles of the Eastern Sea; or Calavar for that matter, should she choose to return.

Kidrash had been agog, but retained enough presence of mind to ask to see some of his daughter's work as proof of their assertions. This being duly produced, it was a rather subdued and abashed Kidrash Tarkhaan who greeted his daughter in his rooms before dinner that night.

"O my daughter and o the delight of my eyes. I may be your proud father who came here half believing that you had wronged me and wronged your nation. But I find to my lasting chagrin that my wilful and gifted daughter has comported herself with all the due diligence and poise of which any father twice my position in rank would be proud."

Here he looked full upon Aravis's face with tears in his eyes and said, "My lasting regret is that I was swayed too strongly by my wish for you to marry a powerful lord, regardless of your own wishes. I was suffering the grief of the loss of your dear brother which I believe now was brought about by our enemies from within Calormen. I was in a new marriage and I must confess I wished for a new start. I was desperate to raise you as high as I could, but alas, I under-estimated you for your youth and overlooked your capacity for learning and the many talents which Azaroth and Zardeenah and Tash the Inexorable, the Irresistible have undoubtedly showered upon you. Forgive me my daughter, for know now that I only wish the best for you. And you have found a best here which is somewhat beyond what your poor father's imagination could have compassed."

Aravis had not held back her tears, for hearing her father's words; she now knew that she was truly free to make her own choices.

But he added, "And if my heart reads the situation here truly, this King Lune plays you fairly and with honour but that he has not propelled you into this further education for no purpose. In my estimation he means you to marry into his family, and whilst these white barbarians are strange to my eyes and ears, and their food tastes bland to my tongue, it flatters me that of all the women of Calormen he could have favoured, he has chosen you. Zardeenah moves in mysterious ways and she appears to have delayed your marriage and shifted you to this place for a great purpose. All I ask is that you treat the demons of these strange lands with great wariness and that you consider the exalted position you could reach here with all seriousness before you ever show the delight of your eyes to any other man than the Crown Prince of this Kingdom."

To that, Aravis had not found a suitable reply. But she now knew she was secure that she had her father's faith and pride in her and his blessing for her possible future, but she was guarded about his highest hopes and never spoke of this to another soul.

Kidrash had stayed a further two weeks in which they had many further conversations and he was treated to hunts and jousts and playful sports on the lawns of Anvard and the dark secluded pools of the Winding Arrow. To Cor's lasting embarrassment, Kidrash was treated by Lune to a bard telling of the Royal Prince's rush at the Great Lion to save Aravis and it was this story which to Aravis's mind, only cemented her father's opinion about her fate in Archenland even more firmly.

So it was a fond if reserved leave-taking when he had departed down the road that led along the hills and valleys above the Winding Arrow back to Armouthe and the ship he had there waiting.

And Kidrash Tarkhaan had left Anvard empty handed in terms of a marriage contract but he did take a document which outlined the terms on which Aravis would be schooled, mentored, socialised, chaperoned and publicly introduced and supported towards marriage if that was her will. The document was composed by Master Trumardin after discussion with Lune, Darrin and Kidrash and written by Aravis herself as she was most familiar with the traditional wording and letter styling that would most please the Calavaran sensibility… and she knew her father would recognise her hand.

…

So now, more than seven months later, Aravis was on the way to Armouthe, in formal dress amongst a cavalcade of nobles of her adopted country and others beside. The soldiers rode ahead and behind in some numbers, but the Royal Gryphons were aloft, sharp eyes able to spy out any threats that may have been lurking.

It took two days of steady riding along the winding road on the Northern edge of the river, with a one-night camp on a wide lawn. Often they rode along the very river bank with stands of willow and alder, walnut and laburnum, hawthorn and elder and floating lilies, but sometimes climbing up and down hills to avoid rushing rapids and cliffs shear to the water. It was not called the Winding Arrow for nothing.

So it was that the company found themselves brushing their hairs, smoothing their clothes, picking their teeth clean and refashioning the formal arrangement they had adopted when departing Anvard, before they picked their way down the steep hills overlooking Armouthe.

Rounding a final bend, there, laid out for Cor's and Aravis's awed and nervous gazes, was the now tidal river flooded with the yellow light of late afternoon and a breeze which brought all the smells and sounds of a small coastal city to their senses and the bells rang out in welcome.

…