Chapter Five
The Weary Find Rest

They had smooth sailing for the entire voyage. Neither storm nor sea serpent troubled them. In the Lone Islands, Rhoop and his three friends were outfitted with new clothing fit for lords of Narnia. And Narnia grew closer day by day.

The king had told them all that had happened since Miraz was king, but Rhoop could hardly take it in. Talking animals. Spirits of waters and trees. Creatures called fauns and centaurs which were described to him, but he could not quite picture.

And then, of course, there was Gwen. He tried not to think about her, but it was so very difficult. He supposed that the king had all new staff at the great castle of Cair Paravel; though Gwen was never strictly staff, of course. But he supposed that there were old noble families who had come out of hiding, who would now be taking their places in court life.

Gwen was probably married and living a quiet life somewhere. Or perhaps she had gone through the doorway that Aslan had made. It was entirely possible. If there had been no place for her, or if her husband had gone as well, then … then it was for the best. Once this possibility had presented itself, he almost hoped that it was true. It would be better for her that way. It would be better for both of them.

In Galma, Mavramorn very suddenly announced after only a short time on that island that he and the Duke of Galma's daughter were to be married. Lady Mavramorn joined them in the voyage. And Narnia came closer.

On a day of brisk coolness, the lookout shouted, "Narnia!"

Everyone rushed to look; there was nothing but a thin line of land and something shining on the edge, too far away to be made out.

The ship was so slow. But not slow enough. Each hour brought him closer to a Narnia that he did not know; a strange land where everything was new, to which he came like a ghost.

The next morning, the king called the four lords together.

"We will be in Narnia within the hour. I shall disembark first with my wife beside me. Then Lord Mavramorn and Lady Mavramorn. After them, Lord Rhoop on the right, Revilian in the center, and Argoz on the left. I shall try to have you taken as quickly as possible to your rooms, but everyone will wish to see you at least." He smiled. "Welcome home, my lords."

He shook their hands each in turn and they departed to make ready. Rhoop combed his hair and made sure that his clothing was unwrinkled, his boots shined. By the time he came back, they were nearly there.

Cair Paravel rose up before him, situated on a low hill overlooking the sea. Turrets, towers, shining windows; so much greater than the castle of the Telmarine kings. So different. There must be three hundred rooms there.

Everyone crowded to the side to look as the Dawn Treader pulled into the quay. A blast of trumpets met them; the gangplank was lowered. Everyone took his positions and then, led by Caspian, they marched forward.

The crowd on the quay buzzed with loud excitement. Cheers. Laughing and shouting. Rhoop kept looking straight ahead for as long as he could; all those eyes, all those people, most of whom had never known him, now staring at him with curiosity like some exotic creature brought back from the world's end.

At last, however, he turned his head. Centaurs, those must be centaurs. Tall, proud men to the waist, and the strong, glossy body of a horse. They were very impressive …

"Rhoop!"

He stopped. Had he heard his name over all that noise? The voice … surely not. A beloved voice that he had longed to hear. Someone pushed through the crowd, through the centaurs: a tall woman, her hair loose, her eyes shining, her arms outstretched. It could not be. But it was.

Before he had time even to say her name she had thrown herself into his arms. Was it possible? She had waited. She had waited. For him. Oh Aslan, she had waited.

The cheers of the crowd around him were like distant breakers on the sand. Nothing else mattered. Gwen had waited. He was home.

Finis