A/N: The song that Wrega sings in this chapter is from the Irish film Song of the Sea. I tweaked it a bit, and then rewrote two lines in the last section she sings.
Disclaimer: See Ch. 1. I do not own Song of the Sea.
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Several weeks after Caspian had made his first inquiries into the subject of seafaring, the minotaurs, centaurs, and Doctor Cornelius came to him with their results, which he asked them to report to the full Council at the next meeting.
"My Lords!" Caspian called the council to order. It was well into spring at this point, and, since many of the panels in the glass wall behind him and the windows in the sides of the hall had been designed to open like doors, they had been thrown open, letting the gentle sea breeze fill the hall. It was exactly the sort of weather in which the discussion of a sea voyage would be best received, no matter how reluctant the listener may be about the idea of sailing. "Welcome. Please, take your seats. Does anyone have any business to bring before the council?
Darendulum and Rorfok, along with Wrega, a huge minotaur with shaggy light brown fur, gave reports on the construction around Cair Paravel-the name having already come to refer to the entire island, not just the castle itself-including the rapidly-growing town, port and docks, and a ferry dock on each side of the channel between the island and the mainland of Narnia. Trufflehunter shared, on behalf of the Talking Beasts and Trees and dryads of the nearby forest, the results of a survey on what would be the best location to begin building a proper road down to the coast, to fully connect Cair Paravel with the rest of Narnia. Glenstorm came forward and told them all what he had read in the stars recently-the summary was that all portents were good.
Finally, the Lords were done with their business. Caspian rose to his feet and took a step forward. "My Lords," he said, "I have a topic to bring to you for discussion. Several weeks ago, I spoke with Glenstorm, Wrega, and Doctor Cornelius on the subject of seafaring, and asked each of them to go to their sources to see what was remembered on the topic. Over the past few days, each has come to me with their results, and I have asked them to share those with all of you."
"Why is your majesty so concerned with the sea?" one of the remaining Telmarine lords asked loudly. "Nothing good has ever come from it, at least not to our people."
"Quite to the contrary," Trufflehunter said gently. "Not only did the Kings and Queens of Old rule from Cair Paravel, the very ruins on which this castle has been built, the castle-on-the-sea, but in every legend, Aslan has come to Narnia from the east-from over the sea. Even when our very own King Caspian blew the horn of Queen Susan, it was by the sea that Trumpkin found the four Kings and Queens and brought them to the rest of us to defeat the usurper Miraz."
"Historically," said Doctor Cornelius, "there was a good deal of trade between Narnia and the islands which were governed by the King (or Queen) of Narnia: the Seven Isles, Galma, Terebinthia, and the Lone Islands. Not to mention the lands to the south, such as Calormen and Telmar. Sea trade may not be so practical with Archenland; I'm not sure what ports that country has, it would certainly be far more practical to lands beyond the mountain range in which Archenland is settled. And if there were ever to be another uprising of the giants to the north, think how practical it would be to be able to attack them from two fronts-the land to the south and sea to the east."
Caspian smiled thankfully at his old friend. "I couldn't have put it better myself, Doctor," he said. "And there are other reasons to learn the ways of the sea, but I will save those until after the reports. Doctor Cornelius, since you have already shared some of your wisdom with us, will you take the floor?"
"Of course, sire," the doctor stood and stepped into the center of the square. "King Caspian asked me to consult my historical tomes for mentions of seafaring-particularly of the mechanics of the craft. Unfortunately, much of what I found concerning the sea was in regards to trade and tribute from the islands under Narnia's government-the aforementioned Seven Isles, Lone Islands, Galma, and Terebinthia. The nearest of these is Galma, as many of you may know, and this is also the only island that has remained under rule of the Telmarine kings for the past few hundred years. In the histories of Caspian I and his subjects, I found mention of the Lone Islands and Terebinthia, but not much. There was not a great deal of settlement in the Lone Islands, and Caspian I seemed to be concerned of any objection from the Calormene Tisroc if he attempted to subjugate them, and so left them be. Terebinthia was more civilised, in Caspian's mind, but he made little attempt to overtake it.
"It seems to me that Caspian I was more interested in taking Narnia itself than the sovereign islands associated with it, with the exception of Galma, which he claimed in order to have a better platform from which to launch his attack on Cair Paravel and the rest of Narnia. Once he had taken-or, rather, destroyed-Cair Paravel and moved further inland, Galma was easily retained with threats of violence from Caspian I and his son and grandson. After that, Galma showed no indication of revolt, and soon began to be peacefully allied with the Telmarine regime. And, as the Telmarines forgot where they came from, they grew to fear the sea, and soon forgot the very ships that had brought them to Narnia in the first place. Galma retained its connection with the sea largely out of necessity-after all, a small island can only be so independent-although it was primarily self-sufficient, and had little trade with Narnia, and even its tribute grew less over the years.
"The only mention I found on the actual mechanics of sailing and of seafaring vessels came from a single, rather small volume, which I actually believe to be a journal of some sort, although who it belonged to was a mystery. It was written long before the invasion of the Telmarines, and has many sketches and drawings of ships that the author saw in the port in which he or she lived-the exact location is unclear, but I believe it to be somewhere in the Lone Islands or Terebinthia, due to the prominent mentions of Calormen and Archenland in the written sections. Unfortunately, these drawings are not proper schematics, nor do they have any sort of measurements for the ships they represent, or any indication as to which ships may be suited for long voyages versus short, or sea travels versus trips through shallower waters along the coasts." His speech finished, Cornelius turned and bowed to Caspian, then returned to his seat.
"Wrega, what did you learn from the storytellers of your people?" Caspian called upon the tawny minotaur lord.
Wrega stood and returned to the centaur of the chamber. She was one of the most massive creatures Caspian-and many others, particularly the humans, in the chamber-had ever seen, standing well over seven feet tall, and nearly as broad as two men stood side-by-side. Her biceps were easily as thick around as Caspian's thighs, and her thighs had a circumference nearer that of Trumpkin's waist. Her horns were smaller than most of the minotaurs Caspian had known, since many of them had been male, but were at least as thick as his wrist, and were decorated with bands of silver and gold. A big gold ring went through her nose, and her long ears were pierced several times each and hung with gold and silver hoops that chimed when she walked. Her shaggy fur was braided and twisted away from her wide dark eyes and long snout, and she wore silver and gold bands on her forearms and ankles-the ones on her ankles jangled with each heavy step she took, so that it was very easy to hear her coming.
"I spoke to Jaraska, the oldest and foremost of our storytellers," Wrega said in her great booming voice. "Jaraska knew a few stories of the times when our people still sailed the seas, before being forced into subjugation and hiding by the Telmarines"-here she side-eyed the Telmarine lords seated nearest her- "and were no longer able to practice our craft. He sang me a song called 'Song of the Sea'." Here, Wrega drew herself up to her full height, puffed out her chest, and began to sing:
Between the here, between the now,
Between the North, Between the South,
Between the West, Between the East,
Between the time, Between the place,
From the shell,
The Song of the Sea,
Neither quiet nor calm,
Searching for love again.
Between the winds, Between the waves,
Between the sands, Between the shores,
Between the stones, Between the storms,
Between belief, Between the seas,
Calling us back,
The Song of the Sea,
Neither quiet nor calm,
Searching for home again.
"According to Jaraska," Wrega continued in her speaking voice, "the sea calls to the minotaurs because we were once the closest to it. Minotaurs developed the craft of sailing because we sought to explore the world beyond the borders of land. In ancient times, aging minotaurs would man ships and sail to the far east, to Aslan's country." Her face fell. "Unfortunately, in the time of the White Witch, many of the young minotaurs, preferring lives of excitement in the world, turned to her, and the practice of sailing east faded.
"And so, our reputation as seafarers faded as well, and many of the oldest stories, the ones telling of our prowess upon the waves, faded with it. Even that song is only a fragment of what it once was-Jaraska remembers his grandfather, the singer who trained him, speaking of old verses, forgotten even when he was young, that spoke of what would be found to the east if one were to sail there. Unfortunately, the stories and songs that Jaraska, and the other elders I spoke to, remember only tell of the adventures to be had across the seas, rather than precisely how to get to that point."
"Thank you, Wrega," Caspian said. He had felt something in his heart stir with the haunting melody that Wrega had sung, and although no-one had yet brought any particularly solid information to him, he still felt hopeful for the prospect of one day sailing east himself. "Glenstorm, you are the last I have asked to speak. What do you have to share with us?"
"I have spoken with many of the storytellers of my people, and many had stories of the sea," Glenstorm replied, taking Wrega's place in the center of the chamber. "But, like the minotaurs, they mostly told of the adventures of seafarers, rather then of the ships taken on those adventures."
Caspian felt the hope that had begun to rise in his heart begin to fall away. He saw Reepicheep's face fall far more visibly, and Doctor Cornelius seemed to be equally crestfallen. Many of the Telmarines, however, seemed relieved at the lack of specificity, and most of the Talking Beasts and Narnians-excepting the minotaurs-looked largely unconcerned one way or the other.
"However," the word snapped Caspian out of his despairing thoughts, "The storyteller Inite had a story to tell. You see, for the most part, centaurs do not write our histories-like the minotaurs and many others, we rely on oral storytelling and song-singing to keep our memories alive. But shortly after the Telmarine invasion, when they had destroyed many of the Narnians and continued to hunt the rest, the centaurs began to write down their stories, so that if a storyteller died without passing on his tales, they would still be preserved. The libraries were broken up and hidden around Narnia even as they were created, carved into wood sheets and stone tablets, rather than indelible paper. Some were only simple drawings-like those on the walls of Aslan's How, which many of us are so familiar with-while others were ornate prose and poetry.
"Inite took myself, my sons, and a few others to the known locations of these libraries, since now we feel safe enough to begin to collect them into a place for reference purposes anyways, and we brought all of the literature that we could carry back with us, and began to search through it. Inite and Lightning Bolt are still doing so, attempting to organize the collection and catalogue it. We found a few stories concerning, as I mentioned already, the adventures of seafarers, but finally, we came across a sort of log written by an unknown scribe, telling the story of Myranthe, a centauress who, according to legend, was one of the few centaurs to actually sail the sea. It seemed as though the log had been recorded either by Myranthe herself, or by one speaking directly to her, and it included the rough dimensions of the vessel in which she sailed, as well as the type of wood that the ship was constructed from."
"Dimensions?" Doctor Cornelius asked excitedly.
"How rough?" Darendulum asked warily.
"Myranthe gave the length of the ship based on her own steps," Glenstorm explained. "She compared the height of the mast to her own height, and the depth of the ship to her own height as well. If we take a measurement of a centauress of average height and stride, this will give us a rough idea of where to start with the measurements of a ship."
"What sort of ship did Myranthe sail on?" asked Caspian, now on the edge of his seat and leaning forward eagerly. "Was it one designed for the open seas, or for hugging the coastline?"
"The ship seems to have been designed for short trips near land," Glenstorm replied. "Myranthe sailed to Galma on one trip, and to Terebinthia and the Lone Islands on the second. Additionally, since centaurs aren't exactly… built for seafaring, it seems unlikely that she would have even been welcome on any other sort of ship."
"Well, no matter what, it's certainly a place to start," Caspian said, settling back slightly. Glenstorm bowed and returned to his place at the corner of the square.