Whose Name is Called Immanuel: chapter 3
"Your Majesty! Your Majesty!"
The faun continued to call as he trotted across the courtyard, and the world continued to fall in dreadful ruin and horror about Garian's ears. He had interrupted the king! Spoken to the king! Asked questions of the king! Worst of all, failed to see it was the king!
"I-I di-didn't know!" Garian stammered out desperately as the faun stopped and bowed before the king, and then turned an inquiring gaze at Garian.
"We were both remiss," said the king solemnly. "I failed to enquire of your name, either."
"I-i-it's Garian," said Garian quickly.
"Garian," the king repeated. He smiled for some reason, not all as if he was angry. "And I, as you have now learned, am King Caspian – and I am very glad to know so candidly that at least one of my people thinks the new situation in Narnia is 'splendid', as you put it."
He turned towards the waiting faun. "Garian, this is Master Oscuns. Oscuns, Garian. What was it that you sought me for?"
The faun called Oscuns bowed politely towards Garian, and then to the king. "The decorations in your Majesty's study are now finished, so your Majesty need not be disturbed any longer-"
"I didn't mean – I didn't mean at all to – to disturb you!" Garian protested with a wail.
"Gentlemen, gentlemen!" The king waved both hands in a hastily hushing gesture. "No one has been disturbing! No one at all! Oscuns, I crave your pardon for my ill humour at the invasion of the study with a forest of greenery. Garian, I think you were sent to me and I was sent to you."
"I brought the biggest cabbage to sell so I could ask what Christmas was in the kitchens," Garian put in, uncertain at this idea of having been 'sent' anywhere. "Since I couldn't ask the Black Dwarves at the village smithy."
The king frowned. "Why not? Are they not friendly?"
"Oh, no!" Garian shook his head. "They are friendly, really, they are. But I couldn't go there because-" He stopped, but it was too late. The king was waiting, and there was nothing to do but say the terrible truth. "Because they offered to mend the hole in my boot and – and – and I haven't a coin to have it mended with!"
He blushed, and then blushed some more as Master Oscuns made a noise that might have been a suppressed laugh. The king did not laugh. "Oscuns," he said rather sharply. "Do you know the current price for cabbages?"
The question seemed to catch Master Oscuns by surprise, for he let out a splutter, choked, coughed heartily and finally gasped out a number of 'Trees' far more than a single cabbage was worth.
"It's only one cabbage!" Garian objected quickly, forgetting the shame over the boot in the fear he might be thought to have overcharged for his wares.
"But you said it was the biggest one," said the king, for some reason smiling at him again. "And if it is the biggest cabbage in all Narnia, I think we should have it – for dinner, Oscuns," he added. "Tell the cook, with my compliments. Garian, will you stay and partake?"
"I, er, no..." Garian shook his head. 'Partake' sounded a very grand word, neither did he fancy going home to tell his great-aunt that he had not only sold but then eaten the biggest cabbage. "I mean, no, thank you, er- er-" The thought suddenly struck him that it might be treason to decline an invitation from the king without a good reason. Needing to get home before dark would sound like he didn't trust the Old Narnians in the woods. That his great-aunt would be cross was too commonplace an occurrence to make a good reason. "I mustn't disturb you at dinner!" he blurted out, finally recalling how cross the village miller was if anyone called at lunchtimes. If millers needed peace at meals, so much more kings. "I've already disturbed you once-!"
"You didn't disturb me," said the king firmly. "The king is for the country, not the country for the king. As I said, it seems I was sent out here to you." He put his hands in his pockets and seemed to consider for a minute. "What is Christmas?" he said musingly. "What is Christmas? Garian, who deals with you when you come to the kitchens?"
"The cook," said Garian. "Or sometimes the grand lady – that is, one of the grand ladies – I mean –" He stopped in a fresh tangle, but the king shook his head.
"There's only the one," he said. "Lady Gwen. But I think you will find she is too busy helping the fauns fix swags of ivy all over the Great Hall today to come and see you, so you will have to ask the cook." The king paused, suddenly solemn. "Garian, will you do something for me? No, two things. When Oscuns has paid you for the cabbage, go and have your boot mended, and tell the Dwarves that the King thanks them-"
"Tell the Dwarves that the King thanks them," Garian repeated faintly, uncertain exactly what this strange message might mean but not wanting to get a word of it wrong.
"Yes. And secondly, ask the cook to give you a box of candles-"
"A box!" Garian gasped. Had the young – the king any idea just how expensive even just single candles were?!
"A whole box," said the king firmly. "And when you get home, make a snow lantern" – he pointed down to his own – "and when people ask what it is, tell them what it means. Tell them what Christmas is. Will you do that?"
"Ye-yes!" said Garian earnestly. If the king asked you to do anything, you should do it – but to do something as important as retelling the king's explanation of Christmas, of course he would! "Yes!" he repeated, to try and show this. "I mean, yes, Your Majesty!" He wasn't quite sure what good manners in the presence of the king were, but he pulled off his cap as his great-aunt had used to make him do if they saw Lord Sopespian go past. "I will, Your Majesty, I will!"
King Caspian laughed, a friendly laugh not a mocking one, and reached out to squeeze Garian's shoulder. "Garian –" He shook his head. "The Lion bless you – Christmas and always. Tell the cook she's to put a box of sugar lumps for that horse of yours in the parcel as well. Merry Christmas."
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