Chapter the Second: The Breakfast of Champions
A/N: You'll have to forgive me for this chapter title! Since this whole story is pure self-indulgence on my part, I didn't even try to resist.
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"Lady Saera?"
A jubilant, adoring sound midway between a sigh and a squeak escaped the lovely dame standing beside me. Saera flashed me a radiant smile as she clasped her hands before her and exclaimed, "Oh, Queen Susan, is he not the most handsome man in the world?"
I smiled at her delight as she looked down at her husband in the courtyard below. We shared a moment of giggling familiarity, our girlish glee hidden by our fur-lined hoods as we leaned close and enjoyed the sight of so many soldiers and knights assembled on this frosty morning. Sir Peridan, having just been tried and tested (and tripped, that by Sir Giles Fox) by the finest warriors in Narnia, was reeling and breathless and looking rather in want of attention that didn't involve weaponry. Seeing his wife's admiring gaze, Peridan gave a weary but happy smile and saluted her with Fahdane.
"And surely he ranks among the most courageous," I replied. "He did well against so many."
Saera laughed faintly. "Were there more, he would have kept on fighting."
I nodded, understanding. I had seen the same determination and drive in my brothers, and both of them would go until they dropped if they felt it was necessary.
"He is in good company, lady." I looked to Lucy, who was talking to Rien. "Lucy, shall we?"
My little sister broke into a wide smile. "Oh, yes! Let's, Susan! I'm hungry, so I'm sure everyone else is, too!"
Given the appetites of Centaurs and kings, I was certain she was right. Turning back to Saera, I asked,
"Lady Saera, you'll join us for breakfast? Everyone is invited."
She beamed with delight. "The pleasure will be ours, my queens!"
I gestured to the ladies-in-waiting and other dames of the court that had accompanied us this chilly morning. "Shall we allow these handsome and noble men to escort us all to the palace?"
Most of them giggled at the suggestion, but I could tell that they were all in complete agreement. Lela, the pretty, yellow-skinned, green-haired Nymph who had caught Celer's eye, was the first to step forward.
"I believe I see my escort right now," she said with a saucy smile. "By your leave, Queen Susan . . . ?"
"Of course," I replied, surreptitiously watching her flirt. From her hair she pulled a sprig of holly that had clusters of bright yellow berries to match her own coloring. She waited until Celer came closer, and then dropped the sprig so it landed at his hooves. He bent to pick it up, and then he looked up to find her.
"I believe this is yours, fair lady," said he, clutching the sprig close to his chest.
She tossed her hair, barely seeming to notice him. "It is, Sir Celer, and if you are kind and act as my protector on the way back to the palace, I may let you keep it."
His smile was as warm as summer. "You do me too much honor, my lady."
"I do," Lela agreed outrageously, slowly walking down the stairs to join him. "You are fortunate that I am fond of handsome Fauns."
"I am indeed," Celer said, offering his arm. I smiled as I realized he hadn't agreed if he was fortunate or handsome, and Lela didn't hold him to specifics. Arm in arm they walked away, their heads bent close.
She made it all look ridiculously simple, though I suspected the Nymph had been practicing for years. It would be great fun, I thought, to be able to be so free with men, but as a queen I could not tease anyone so. Besides, I had yet to find the man that I wanted to flirt with, and heaven help him when I did and my brothers got wind of it. At least with them about I was guaranteed a man that was the bravest of the brave
More admirers came to guide the ladies and we all made our way to the floor of the courtyard. Peter was waiting for me and offered me his hand down the last few steps. At a hard look from Peter, Jaerin likewise offered his services and with our arms linked and the warriors close by my sides, we set out across the grounds. No snow had fallen yet, but everything was white with frost that glinted like stars in the morning sun. I could see Lucy between Edmund and Jaer already past the stables, calling out greeting to the Horses and other Animals that lived there. Just ahead of us, Peridan walked between his wife and daughter. Both ladies were doting on him.
"You fought very well, Jaerin," I said to the boy on my left. "Were you very surprised?"
"Yes!" he exclaimed, suddenly indignant at being reminded of having been yanked out of his warm bed. "What was all this about?"
Peter grinned, not about to give anything away, and I said, "Tonight is the White Armor Ball!"
"I know, Queen Susan," Jaerin answered. His frustration at the situation was returning. "But what does a dance have to do with us having to fight all morning?"
"Dance?" I smiled. "Do you know the meaning behind a White Armor Ball?"
Put on the spot, Jaerin shrugged and pushed his tow hair out of his eyes, trying to come up with an answer that might satisfy. "I thought . . . I thought it was just another celebration. I thought . . . well . . . everyone would wear white clothes and armor. At least, Mother made Rien a white dress and she made Father a new tabard of the same cloth."
Peter's voice was full of amusement. "Methinks this young fellow is in need of correction, Queen Susan."
I elbowed him in the ribs, the layers of fabric between us padding the blow and causing him to chuckle. "Your form of correction comes with too many bruises, Wolfsbane." I smiled down at Jaerin to reassure him. "You are partially right, Jaerin. When we get inside and get some breakfast into us, I promise I'll explain to you what a White Armor Ball is really about."
"Will I have to dance?" he asked without the least hint of enthusiasm.
"Yes!" Peter and I said together, and then we laughed as Jaerin moaned.
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It was a flushed and happy crowd that accompanied me and Lucy into Cair Paravel's conservatory. Though not nearly as temperate as the inner rooms of the palace, my sister and I had decided to hold the breakfast celebration in here because everyone was already warmly dressed and because it made for such a pretty setting. Despite the thick frost outdoors the exotic - and some not so exotic - plants sheltered within these glass walls flourished and it was very refreshing to see flowers and greens in the midst of winter.
Tables of food were already prepared - cold meats and smoked fish, rich cheeses, hearty breads, delicate pastries, dense fruitcakes, winter fruits and preserves were all laid out on tables decorated with evergreens and winter roses. As our guests entered, more food was brought in - egg dishes and hot game pies and confits and a great nut cake still warm from the oven. Tea, hot chocolate, honey mead, mulled cider, and coffee were already being poured by the servants so that everyone could have exactly what he or she wanted to drink. The smell of food mingled with the moist lushness of the conservatory and many a hungry sigh rise up from our guests. I wasted no time, well aware of the mighty appetites surrounding me. I hurried to the door and climbed the few steps so I would be visible to all be they tall or short.
"Cousins!" I called out, and silence fell almost instantly as they all turned to face me. I smiled to see so many happy faces. "Brave men of Narnia, fair ladies all, I bid you all a happy Christmas Eve and I thank you for attending this feast. As we begin this meal, I ask you give thanks to Aslan for this bounty and these friends. Good cousins, pray eat your fill!"
A happy, hungry cheer rose up as I curtsied to those assembled. Goblets, glasses, and tea cups were raised in salute to me and to Aslan. As with most Narnian feasts there were a number of tables set up at various heights to accommodate the many sizes of citizens in attendance. Thought this party was relatively small – no more than fifty in all – we followed that tradition so that all the different types of Narnians would be comfortable as they ate their fill. As the founders of the feast, Lucy and I moved among the tables, welcoming the soldiers and guests and making sure everyone had enough to eat and drink. In typical fashion for Cair Paravel, there was no want and no waste.
Eventually I ended up seated with the knights Sir Peridan and Sir Giles and their families. We sat on soft cushions on the floor around a low table close by one of the braziers set up to keep the room from freezing. Peter was standing among the Centaurs, gesturing wildly as he spoke. He had his fork in his hand and I could only pray he didn't impale himself. Doubtless they were talking battle tactics, and before the meal was over they would have the entire Battle of Beruna fought again on one of the tabletops using scraps of toast and nuts for the various forces. Edmund sat with some Black and Red Dwarfs off in a corner where poinsettias bloomed in profusion. They weren't even aware of their surroundings. Knives and daggers of all sorts and sizes were arrayed before them on the table and I knew they were discussing metallurgy and smithing. Before long they would be borrowing every blade in the room for comparison, and then they would start banging their fists on the table and shouting as they argued about different smithing techniques. I knew this because I'd seen it happen before. Lucy was by the food, talking to the Nymph soldier Choin, Lela's twin. Both, I think, were trying to figure out exactly how much clotted cream one could put on a single scone and they were giggling at their efforts. Finally Choin just made off with the bowl of cream and they joined her sister and Celer amidst the gorgeously blooming succulents.
Peridan and his sons were silent as they set to their meal with gusto. It wasn't until half of his plate was empty that Jaerin remembered my promise. He waited for a break in my conversation with Lady Marion Fox and, hastily swallowing, asked me,
"Queen Susan, if I may, what is a White Armor Ball?"
The other children at the table, especially Rien and the two vixen kits, looked up with great interest. They were all invited to tonight's celebration. For Giles' children at least, I knew it was their very first ball. Peridan and Saera, who had moved to Narnia from Archenland less than a year ago, gave me their full attention. I kept my fork in my hand so that people at the table could keep eating while I was not, and I explained,
"A White Armor Ball is a Narnian tradition that dates back to the year 219. King Willam the Bold was newly crowned and married when, midway through the month of Yule, there was an uprising of Fell Beasts on the Northern Marches by Coldstream Vale. He rode out with the army and his younger brother, Frank, who was much of an age to you, Jaer. Cair Paravel was left in the care of his bride, Queen Lin. A great celebration had been planned for the season and the coronations and the wedding, and Willam left Lin with an order to carry on as if he were there at her side.
"Four days before Christmas Eve, the army vanquished the Fell Beasts and secured Narnia's northern border once again. Prince Frank conducted himself very bravely against the Fell Beasts and he even slew their second-in-command, a Hag, saving his brother's life. King Willam resolved to knight his brother as soon as they returned to Cair Paravel. They set out immediately, riding night and day through the cold and snow. When they arrived at the Cair on the eve of Christmas Eve, a great ball was being held with music and banquets and dancing. The soldiers rode right into the great hall carrying their banners and still wearing their full armor. Willam jumped off his Unicorn and right into the arms of Lin. The music playing was the Wassail Carol, which dates back to the days of King Frank and Queen Helen, and they sang and danced to the end of the song."
Sarai and Helene let out ecstatic little whines at the hopelessly romantic image of a triumphant and loving knight returning to his lady. Rien looked equally smitten. The boys all wore thoughtful looks, and after a moment of digesting the story thus far, Peterkins asked,
"Queen Susan, was the Hag very grufull and hard to kill?"
I laughed at his wide eyes and earnest expression. He was adorable in every way. "I am sure, Master Fox."
"So was Prince Frank knighted?" Jaerin asked, getting back to what interested him most.
"The next day Queen Lin presented him with a suit of white armor and that night, Christmas Eve, he was made Sir Frank Coldstream of the Ancient Order of the Sentries. He was one of the greatest warriors and heroes of his time."
Jaer blinked, and I could tell he had a hundred questions about the battle and the aftermath. I hoped I would be able to answer them all. We waited, all of us, for him to find the words.
"Why do you call it white?" he finally asked. "Isn't all armor silver colored? Unless it's leather, of course," he added before his brother could correct him.
"White armor," I said, "is unadorned. It means that the person wearing it has earned recognition, but no device for decorating his shield."
He nodded, and I knew he was mentally ticking off the shields and arms of all the soldiers he could think of at the moment.
"So!" I continued. "Sir Frank Coldstream was named Narnia's first White Armor Knight. In his honor all the soldiers wore their armor again at the following night's celebrations. Ever after, on Christmas Eve, an armored ball was held, with singing games and dancing and gifts. A custom was established of naming a White Armor Knight from among the young men and women when there was one that had done good and valiant service to Narnia. From that night on, until the end of the Christmas season on the last day of Yule, the Narnian appointed the White Armor Knight was afforded the title of 'Sir' and treated as a Knight of Narnia."
Rien and Peterkins both let out long, longing sighs for completely different reasons. I smiled at their dreamy expressions.
"And after?" wondered Jaer. I noticed a hint of caution in his voice.
I leaned close and covered his hand with mine. His fingers were chilled. "There has never been a White Armor Knight that did not earn his spurs in the years to follow."
He nodded, absorbing this. I gazed at him fondly, aware of his parents sitting nearby, watching and listening. They exchanged a quick look and a smile, hoping . . .
"Over time, whether or not a White Armor Knight was appointed, everyone began to wear white clothing to this ball. Since the armor was unadorned, so too were all the clothes. No jewels, no ornaments, no color is worn save white. The only decorations allowed are evergreens, and the ball does not end until Christmas in the early morn. We could not revive the tradition last year because King Peter was so very sick with pneumonia, but this year . . ."
Jaer was silent, staring at the table, deep in thought. I could see him putting the puzzle pieces together, saw his breathing quicken slightly. Finally he looked to me. Hope and trepidation mingled in his hazel eyes. There was an unspoken longing in his expression and he burned to ask me a question . . .
Suddenly I noticed the silence that filled the conservatory and I realized that everyone in the room had been listening to the history lesson I had been giving. Even the Dwarfs had abandoned their talk of smith work to listen. I blushed at the unexpected audience, but I wasn't surprised. Stories of all sorts were very highly prized in Narnia, and the people listening rarely cared if they already knew the story or not, so long as it was told well. I shot a glance at Lucy. She was biting her lip and her eyes glittered like diamonds. I had not seen her so excited since we had gotten word that Peter had returned from the Western Wild.
Jaer drew a breath, bracing himself, when Peterkins blurted out,
"So is there going to be a White Armor Knight at the ball? Can I be the knight? Please?"
His parents let out growls of annoyance at their only son's appalling timing. Sir Giles snapped, "You're lucky to have seen your first birthday after you disobeyed King Edmund and chased him to Ettinsmoor!"
"Oh." Peterkins, reminded of his transgressions of this past spring, dove under the table to escape their wrath. Marion sighed and shook her head and just left him there for the moment. The vixen gave me an apologetic look, but nothing could spoil this moment.
"Peterkins," I called. There was a muffled thump as he hit his head on the table, then the kit slowly poked his nose out close by my hand. I smiled down at him and smoothed his fuzzy head. "Each thing in its time. You will have to wait your turn, Master Fox."
I sat back and looked at the people assembled. We were connected, all of us - soldiers, queens, knights, officers, kings, friends, lovers, family, rivals. Our love for Narnia, for revinim, for each other, for tradition and celebration, had brought us to this pinnacle. I felt a surge of affection and gratitude to every person here. We Sons of Adam and Daughters of Eve may have freed them, but they in turn had saved our lives time and again.
It was time to shift direction slightly, and I set aside honoring one warrior for another. "Sir Oreius Heydensrun," I said, standing up and smoothing my long skirts. "Sir Kanell of the Ettin's Keep. Sir Celer Rosenward. You are Cair Paravel's swordmasters, making you the finest warriors in this land, and from thence the world. What say you, good sirs?"
The trio of knights stepped forward as they were called. Tall, dangerous, blazingly intelligent all, they ranged before me. Oreius, senior among them by skill, rank, and title, bowed before he cast a hard gaze at Sir Peridan. He spoke to me, but his words were directed at the lord from Archenland. I knew what would be said already because the Cair's swordmasters had approached me and my siblings early this month with their proposal.
"I say, Gentle Queen that we three have found one that we would name a peer, for he has shown great skill and daring in service to Narnia and her rulers. If he be willing, let him be so called."
Saera let out a gasp.
"It is not my place, Sir Oreius, to name your peers," I said. "Having so little skill with a blade, I leave it to you and your fellow swordmasters to expand your fellowship."
"Then we call Peridan, son of Erain, of the line of Helvein Panthersbane, to stand and take his place among us as a Swordmaster of Narnia."
Peridan stared speechlessly as we all looked on with delight. Finally he stood, and looking at the tall Centaur, he managed to say in a voice that was thick with emotion, "You do me great honor, General."
Oreius, who I knew counted Peridan as a close friend, replied, "You saved our beloved queens from Fell Beasts and traitorous Dryads. It is you who have honored us by accepting this title, Sir Peridan."
I looked to Peridan's family. Saera was overjoyed, close to tears even, and she pressed a hand to her lips. Their children sat in silent awe, staring at their father with unabashed admiration, the boys especially since they had been exposed to Narnia's other swordmasters. I watched Jaer in particular. For a moment he seemed torn between pride and . . . something else. Disappointment was, perhaps, too strong a word for the reaction that flitted across his features. He had entertained for a moment what he now felt was a wild hope. As I watched from a few yards away, I saw him swallow, take a deep breath, and then give himself over to his family's happiness as Rien crushed him in an enthusiastic hug and Jaerin loudly related events they had all just seen. His joy at his father's promotion was complete.
People began to talk in whispers, energized by this newly bestowed title. Peridan and his family were very popular in the court, and soldiers were always pleased to see one of their numbers get his due. Happy cheers and shouts of congratulations rose up as Peridan moved to clasp Oreius' arm, then Kanell's and finally Celer's. The Faun in particular was pleased – he loudly announced he was quite tired of being the lowest-ranked among the swordmasters, even though they were all always afforded every respect. Laughter filled the room, and I sought Lucy's eye once again.
She nodded to tell me that all was prepared, and her smile was infectious. I was about to ask for quiet when Jaerin suddenly exclaimed,
"So that's what this morning was about?"
I turned to face him, glad of the opening he made.
"In part, Jaerin," I said. "In part."