Disclaimer: See Ch. 1.
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"Your majesty?" Trufflehunter's long face had turned to face the king. "You have yet to say why exactly you have taken an interest in the sea."
Caspian smiled. "You're right, Trufflehunter-I apologize. I seem to recall saying that I would do so once the others had shared their findings, and nearly forgot about it entirely." He stood and stepped down towards the center of the square, a fresh breeze flowing through the windows and into the room as he did, stirring the hair on his forehead and the edges of his loose shirt. "My lords, I must admit that my desire to explore the sea is not entirely… selfless. While all of the trade reasons that Doctor Cornelius spoke of earlier are certainly things that I had thought of these past weeks, along with the advantage of having the extra line of attack or defense should war arise with any of our neighboring nations, my initial desire to rekindle a national interest in seafaring was purely selfish: I have always wondered what lay in-and beyond-the sea.
"However," he continued, "there is another reason even beyond that. Many of you Telmarine lords certainly remember when my uncle Miraz came into power. His behavior towards those that he deemed disloyal to him verged on tyrannical, and this included my father's seven closest friends: the Lord Revilian, the Lord Bern, the Lord Argoz, the Lord Mavramorn, the Lord Octesian, the Lord Restimar, and the Lord Rhoop. Worried that these seven noble lords would stand by my side, rather than supporting Miraz's own tentative claim, my uncle sent them on a farce of a 'mapping expedition', and told them to explore the eastern seas. None of the seven have been seen since. Since it was on my account that they were driven from this land, I feel that it is my duty, as King of Narnia, to officially lead the search for the seven lords and bring them home."
The chamber fell silent; only the whispering of the new leaves on the trees outside was heard. Glenstorm shifted where he stood, his hooves scraping against the flagstones. Someone shifted in his chair; someone else coughed. The faces of the lords wore a myriad of expressions; some seemed incredulous, others were disapproving, even others seemed entirely bored of the conversation. Caspian held his breath as he waited for a response.
"Your majesty," Lord Scopian, the newest human on the council and the governor of the newly rebuilt town of Beruna, slowly rose to his feet. "While this is certainly a noble quest that you have proposed, I must raise my voice in objection to its practicality. For one thing, do you intend to search out these lords yourself?"
"I have not yet decided," Caspian said. "While on one hand, as I have already freely admitted, it is certainly my unparalleled desire to explore the Easter Sea, I also realize that it is impractical for me to actually plan to do so." Scopian seemed relieved, and took his seat again. "However, it does only seem right that I, as king and representative of Narnia, go personally on this voyage in order to persuade the lords that this is not simply a trick by Miraz to lead them to their deaths." Scopian looked alarmed again. "Of course, all of this is still theoretical. We are ages away from being able to even dream of such a voyage-there is a great deal we must learn before preparations can even be thought of. And, once again, this is not the primary goal of founding a naval program; the primary goal is, of course, trade, while defense and offense are immediate secondary goals. A rescue mission for the lost Lords is much further down the list."
The lords who had seemed uneasy by the initial proposition began to look more comfortable with the idea.
"But," Scopian protested, "how can we truly be sure of the soundness of a boat that we have no schematics for?"
"If you think about it," Trumpkin spoke up, looking almost like he had surprised himself in doing so, "the first sailors-whether they were men, or minotaurs, or something else entirely-weren't truly sure of the soundness of whatever vessel they set out in."
"An excellent point, Trumpkin," Trufflehunter agreed. "Not to mention, we don't really need to build a proper seagoing vessel, when all is said and done."
"What do you mean?" Caspian asked.
"Well," Trufflehunter explained, "all we really have to do is get to Galma. Its people are still-or at least were, up until the last anyone heard-proper sailors. They still practice the art of travelling the sea. I don't see why they wouldn't help us correct the ideas we have on the matter, unless they hold any sort of grudge against the Telmarine regime and the wickedness of Miraz, in which case, they will hopefully be easily persuaded that the new king is in a completely different class of monarch from his late uncle."
"It's not like Galma is particularly far, either," Doctor Cornelius added. "Under twenty miles from Cair Paravel, if the maps I have are anything near accurate. On a very clear day, I think it would be possible to see a glimpse of the island in the distance, if one were to stand on the wall of the castle. If the ship sailed right along the coastline as well, it could even be feasible to have some sort of rescue operation ready to aid them if necessary."
Several of the lords began to murmur, filling the chamber with their whispers. Although Caspian couldn't understand most of the words, he thought that the sound was primarily optimistic. He made his way back to his seat, trading glances with Avernetrios, who stood at his usual post to the right side of the king. Avernetrios gave him a slight shrug, and Caspian hid a smile. His new friend was one of the few people he'd confided in when he first conceived of the idea of a naval program, and Avernetrios had made it clear that he, as a centaur, had absolutely no interest in sailing of any sort-despite the legends of Myranthe the seagoing centaur.
As Caspian took his seat once again, the murmurs died away, and the chamber fell silent. He looked out over the lords, taking in the mixture of emotions portrayed on their faces. "Well, my Lords," the young king said in a firm, clear voice. "What is your verdict?"
.*.*.*.*.*.
Several months later, Caspian stood on the main dock of Cair Paravel's new port. On the beach behind him, the hull of a freshly-constructed ship was propped up with scaffolding, ready to be shifted onto rollers, in order to be moved into the water. Caspian could see that the woodwork was rough-even though this was the third ship that had been built, the other two had not been properly waterproof, and had quickly sunk-but certainly looked like many of the pictures from the journal that Cornelius had found. The ship was nearly complete-her hull, decks, and mast were all installed, and the foundling shipwrights who had built her (primarily minotaurs, with aid from a few satyrs, dwarves, and even fauns) planned to put on the finishing touches once she was in the water.
As Caspian and the rest of the audience held their breath, the assembled minotaurs and satyrs strode forward to support the sides of the boat, while the fauns and dwarves quickly disassembled the scaffolding. The giant Wimbleweather stood at the prow of the ship, ready to help tow her into the water. Many of the members of Caspian's council were either on the docks on the shore, and Avernetrios Wrega stood to either side of the king, along with Wrega's cousin Tariki, who had become one of the foremost of the shipwrights. Reepicheep would have stood with them, except that the mouse had volunteered to lead his followers into the boat to check its stability once it was in the water. Tariki and her fellow shipwrights had protested, but Reepicheep had argued that a dozen mice weighed significantly less than even a single minotaur, could do the job far more quickly and more thoroughly, and would likely have an easier and faster time getting out of the ship if anything went wrong. Therefore, Tariki had reluctantly agreed to stand by on the dock with a small dinghy to either board if the ship was deemed safe, or rescue the mice if necessary.
As the scaffolding fell away, the onlookers watched the full weight of the ship fell onto the minotaurs and satyrs supporting it, until Wimbleweather took hold of the prow and began to ease it forward. Very slowly, the ship crept forward, until it finally met the water of the shoreline. The waves lapped against the hull as the minotaurs and satyrs guided it deeper. Once they could go no deeper, Wimbleweather took the full weight of the ship on himself, tugging it gently further and further out into the sea.
Everyone could see the moment when the ship left its contact with the ocean floor. One moment, she appeared to be resting, listing ever so slightly to starboard, and the next she was bobbing, fully upright, her mast tall and proud as the great tree it came from had once stood, pointing up at the sky.
A cheer rang through the crowd, echoing off of the water, but Caspian and Tariki held their exuberance in check. After all, the mice hadn't yet cleared the vessel.
But, after another long moment of taut expectation, Reepicheep suddenly materialized on the side of the boat. He flung out his arms and squeaked at the top of his lungs: "She is sound!"
.*.*.*.*.*.
That night, Caspian could hardly sleep-and not just because of the celebration the minotaurs and other shipwrights were holding on the beach below the castle. His head was full of thoughts, hopes, and dreams that he'd had all his life; dreams of exploring the world to the east and south, of meeting the native peoples of those places, and building new alliances for Narnia. He allowed himself to dream, just for a moment, of the gratitude of his father's old friends when he found them and welcomed them back into Narnia, then forced himself to push away the thought. In the morning, the sun dawned bright and huge in the east, its rays sparkling across the blue sea. Squarely in the center of the sun was the silhouette of the ship, her shadow stretching across the water and onto the golden sands of the beach. Caspian smiled slightly and spared a final thought towards the many adventures that would come from this ship and those to follow, then finally tumbled into bed for a few hours' sleep before he had to truly face the day.