10-2-07 Many thanks to elecktrum for becoming my new beta and taking a look at some of the older, un-betaed chapters!
Sorry for the long delay, not only has my Narnian muse still refused to show her face, I've been highly distracted by Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End coming out in theaters... Very highly distracted, in fact I'd seen it four times before it had even been out for more than 72 hours... and I'm already agonizing over what they will have for deleted scenes on the DVD and plotting out my first POTC fanfiction. Arrrr!!! Yes, I know, I really need a social life but if I had one, I probably wouldn't be writing fanfiction. But, back to the world of the Lion and Leona...
Disclaimer: I am merely borrowing C. S. Lewis' charming characters and world, and will eventually return them. The only thing that is mine is the plot.
Disclaimer 2: If this story in any way resembles any other fanfiction it is by complete accident, as I go out of my way to avoid reading fanfictions that resemble mine until mine are completed. My apologies to any other great minds.
Author's note: This story is set pre-, during- and post- The Last Battle. I am a first time fanfiction writer and any reviews are appreciated.
Chapter Twenty-Four: Leona's Story: Rebellion
The streets of Tashbaan were noisy and dirty as always, but while the woman walking up and down them selling slightly over-ripe fruits didn't seem to notice the filth, she was inconspicuously paying close notice to the noise. In between her calls of "Fresh fruits!" she was listening. Not for anything or anyone in particular, but simply letting her ears skim over the conversations around her, like the eye can skim over a crowd taking in all of the faces and truly acknowledging none of them, unless one warranted a second glance. She was listening for certain words, tones of voice, and the unmistakable body language of discontent. She was listening for the seeds of rebellion.
Centuries of experience helped Leona move through a crowd without being noticed as anything unusual, and her manner never slipped as she would sidle closer to a group of turbaned and bearded men complaining over their drinks, then listen to the idle gossip of the matrons filling their water jars at the well.
All day she wandered the marketplace, selling her fruits and listening, getting the feel of the people's opinions and moods. At sundown, she slipped down an alleyway and into the poorer areas of the city, cutting through gaps between buildings and ducking under fences with the air of someone who knows where they are going and the swiftest way of getting there.
She stopped in the shade of a ramshackle building and sat down on a crate to wait. She didn't have to wait long. Within a few minutes a ginger tom cat slunk out of the shadows, sauntered up to her and with one graceful leap, jumped into her lap. She started to pet him automatically.
"Well," she asked the feline in her lap. "What did you learn?"
Arching his back under Leona's hands Prowler replied quietly, "Three more missing people. A young boy and two young women were arrested by the Tisroc's men and taken to the temple. They haven't come out and no-one in the temple has seen them among the servants."
Leona looked pensive. "Another three, and taken in broad daylight under flimsy pretense. The High Priest is getting bold."
Prowler looked up at her. "I'm getting very nervous about this whole situation. This is the first time we've ever gotten this involved with important events without Aslan's bidding or guidance. Don't you think if he wanted us here he'd have given some clue that we were doing what he wished?"
Leona didn't respond for a minute. It was true that there had been no mental nudge or instruction from Aslan for quite a while, ten years in fact. She and Prowler had been living in various parts of Calormen for over a decade now, either singing for their supper or working odd jobs wherever they found their feet landing. She hadn't needed Aslan's mental nudge to know that Calormen was on the verge of another potentially bloody uprising. She saw the signs when the Tisroc started taking more and more advice from the High Priest of Tash, and the advice became more and more punitive towards the people. Harsher punishments for lesser crimes, the Tisroc taking on less and less of the leadership of the country as the High Priest willingly took over the more onerous tasks. The fact that the High Priest of Tash was ostentatiously working behind the scenes was what truly disturbed Leona. Events in a regular uprising didn't need her help. Calormene warriors managed to kill each other very well without any encouragement, but when Tash was involved in any way the hair on the back of her neck stood on end.
Tash was a demon of sorts, the antithesis of Aslan but far less powerful and far more limited in how he could affect the world. He fed off of pain, fear, despair and unwilling sacrifice. His influence was limited to Calormen unless invited elsewhere, and he rarely took physical form. He ruled his land through his priests, who were known to be cruel, manipulative and evil. The sacrifices he demanded varied throughout time, but blood was always involved in some way. Rarely were human victims demanded, but Leona was all but certain that the poor people taken to the temple in the last few months weren't press-ganged to scrub the floors. She found it odd that Aslan hadn't sent her any indication of his wishes for this situation. Usually he had her up to her neck in anything Tash was involved in simply because the Guardian was the only one capable of channeling enough of Aslan's power to make a difference.
"I don't know why Aslan hasn't involved himself yet, but that doesn't mean that we aren't still doing the right thing," Leona told Prowler. "I couldn't have lived with myself as a person if I'd just stood back and done nothing when Tash's priest was taking over. Maybe Aslan knows what we are doing and is just letting us do it. He'll guide us when we need it. He always does."
Prowler sighed. "Maybe you're right. At any rate we're already involved so you might as well report to the prince what's going on." With that comment, the cat jumped off her lap and started into the alley. Picking up her empty fruit basket, Leona followed him until they both came to another ramshackle house and, without knocking, entered.
The young man sitting at the wooden kitchen table looked up as she entered and set her basket down by the door.
"I hope you weren't seen coming here," he said, rather arrogantly.
The young woman sitting next to him rolled her eyes. "It's her house, Daronon. I should think it would attract more attention if she crept in quietly."
The man looked suddenly sheepish. "Sorry, Leona. That's the problem with having these meetings in so many different places. I have a horrible time remembering who lives where."
Leona chuckled softly. Crown Prince Daronon wasn't the finest candidate for kingship she'd ever encountered, but when the other option was letting Calormen be taken over by Tash's priest, she was willing to work with what was available. One of his redeeming features was his good sense to fall desperately in love with the woman at his side. Even if she was only a merchant's daughter, Adara had more than enough common sense to be able to run a kingdom and enough love for Daronon to be willing to try it. Most of the people Leona had ever met that had enough common sense to competently run a kingdom, also had enough sense not to want to...
Over the next few minutes more people showed up at Leona's door and she would let them in exclaiming happily how glad she was to see them and asking them loudly how they were doing. Over the years she had found that if you wanted to have meetings that didn't attract attention, simply have a "party". Nosy neighbors could find much to gossip about with silent and stealthy comings and goings, but the occasional party attracted no notice unless it got too rowdy late at night.
Once all the conspirators were present, the prince started asking for reports. One man in a fisherman's hat told of disgruntled whisperings among the marketplace at the new taxes and required religious tithes. Another man spoke of people speaking out against the High Priest suddenly leaving town in a frightened hurry. Around the table it went, each person telling of complaints, kidnappings or other ill deeds being done in the Tisroc's name by the High Priest's men. Finally, a rough looking man with the bearing of a soldier reported that the men he'd been training for the uprising were nearly ready, with the only thing needed was a time and place to strike.
For all the talk very little truly got done during that meeting. The prince was quiet and seemed to be filing away each story in his head, the better to catalog them later. After everyone else had left Daronon and Adara still sat at the kitchen table.
"Leona," Daronon said slowly. "What do you know about magic?"
Leona stilled. Daronon knew her only as a woman with a better than average group of informants and a good head for planning. All her experience with uprisings over the centuries was completely unknown to anyone except her and Prowler.
"What do you mean?" she asked, hesitantly.
"I think there may be something wrong with my father," the prince said softly.
Leona almost snorted. Of course there was something wrong with the Tisroc. He was a bloody idiot who was stupid and lazy enough to let his advisers actually run the show without interference.
"I think he's under a spell," the prince continued. This perked Leona's interest. She made a motion for him to continue explaining.
"The High Priest has been quietly keeping me from seeing him privately, and whenever I do see him, it's as though he isn't truly there. He acts like a puppet or a doll. It sends chills up my back when I look in his eyes, because it's as though they are dead. I don't know of anything that could do that, but I'm hoping you may know someone who would." The prince's rendition of his father's condition did nothing to ease her mind. Unfortunately, she had a horrible feeling she knew what was happening.
"I can't say for sure," she said slowly. "But, Tash's priests have been known to have some magic, almost always evil and controlling. Some have been known to possess mind magic and the ability to influence another's thoughts and will. More importantly they have always been connected with necromancy, the animating and controlling of the dead. If the Tisroc had started fighting against the High Priest's influence it wouldn't surprise me if your father, dead or alive, was indeed under their control."
"So, my father may already be dead, and they are simply animating his dead body!" The prince seemed suddenly appalled and quite sickened at the thought.
"If they are using necromancy, then the Tisroc is likely already dead, but I doubt they are animating the body. More likely they are hiding the body somewhere and using the... parts... to fuel an illusion or a puppet. The only way we'd know is by finding the body and destroying it. That would end the spell, but it would also set events in motion far faster than we have planned. On the other hand, if the High Priest has already killed the Tisroc, then we can waste no more time," Leona said.
"I won't ask how you would know these things," the prince said. "But I trust you. We must find out if the Tisroc is truly dead or . . . something else."
"I think I know a way . . ." Adara said softly.
Leona kept her eyes on the marbled floor as she walked side by side with Adara down the halls of the palace. The basket of clean laundry in her arms was heavy and cumbersome but she tried her best not to loose her grip on it. Next to her, Adara had a pile of sheets in her arms and was surreptitiously leading the way down the corridors. Leona had never been to this part of the palace before and it was crucial that they appeared to know where they were going and what they were going to do when they got there.
Daronon had disliked Adara's plan from the start, saying that it was far too risky, and that he should be the one to snoop around his father's chambers. Adara pointed out that the High Priest already knew that he was suspicious and that to give the evil man any more excuse to have Daronon quietly disposed of would be foolish.
"If High Priest Hador finds you looking for your father outside his jurisdiction, you won't leave those rooms alive! The maids still have to clean and that will at least get us into the rooms, unlike you who won't even get past the doors without a fight or at the very least, a fuss," Adara said adamantly. Leona didn't think that the idea of simply waltzing in pretending to be maids was a particularly good plan, but she also knew that Daronon was simply not capable of sneaking around the palace without being recognized. She also knew that simple was sometimes best when it came to subterfuge. The more complicated a plan was, the more ways that the entire thing could go to pieces.
"This is madness," Leona said. "There are guards at the entrances to the Tisroc's rooms. Even the maids would never be allowed in without an escort, and never when the Tisroc would be present. We'd never get in that way. Are there any ways in that aren't guarded?"
Daronon thought for a bit, then said slowly, "My mother's rooms had an adjoining passageway to the Tisroc's, so that if they wished for any . . . comings and goings in the middle of the night there was no need for a fuss. That suite has been closed up since she died, but I doubt that it's guarded."
"Very well," Leona said. "This is what we'll do then . . ."
The two women rounded a corner and came to a stop outside a set of wood-paneled doors. Farther down the hall, two armed soldiers stood sentry outside the Tisroc's chambers. Seemingly for lack of anything better to do, the guards followed the 'maids' with their eyes. Leona reached into the pocket of her apron and pulled out a set of keys that Prowler had conveniently stolen for her earlier. As she fumbled through the keys to try and find the right one, she made sure to mutter just loudly enough for the guards to hear her. "Horrible old hag, sends us to clean an empty room and doesn't even bother to tell me which key to use . . . I do not understand why it needs to be cleaned at all, no-one lives there anyway . . ."
As per previous arrangement, Adara quietly broke in with, "Shush, you know better than to talk like that about the housekeeper! It'll be worth a beating if she finds out!"
"You can't deny that she's a horrible old hag," Leona said, again for the guards' benefit, and she knew that the gambit had paid off when she heard one of the listening guards chuckle.
Having finally gotten the right key, she opened the door and the two women slipped inside and closed the door behind them. Without pause they quickly shoved their loads of laundry under a sheet-covered table and went through each room as swiftly as they could until they came to the bedroom. Damask-covered chairs were everywhere and an enormous canopied bed stood in place of honor against one wall.
"Daronon said that the entrance to the passageway was against the far wall," Adara said, starting to run her hands over the paneling, trying to find something resembling a door.
Leona joined her friend at her efforts and then turned to her with a small smile. "Just think, this suite could be yours one day, if Daronon actually goes through with his plans and marries you."
Adara smiled back, "I don't care where we would live, as long as we were together."
"Romantic notion, but are you sure that you are willing to be a queen?" Leona said. "I'm sure it's not all ass's milk baths and fan bearers and servants to carry your things. . . Is he worth the snipping ladies talking about your 'low birth' and the dangers of court life when assassins are common?"
Adara turned to look at her friend. "I can tell you've never been in love before, Leona. Once you are, you'll understand that hardships and complications are part of any relationship, but that love makes them all worth the trouble. Aha! Found it!!"
Under her fingers a small depression hid an even smaller lever, which Adara gently pressed. With a soft whoosh a door slid open about six paces to her left in the corner. Taking up a small candle lantern from the bedside table, Leona lit it and let the way through the tunnel.
It had taken quite a bit of planning to get the timing just right for this escapade. There was little use in searching the Tisroc's rooms if they were occupied, so the women had to make their search when the Tisroc was expected to be out and about, which given the lack of public appearances that the ruler was making, wasn't an easy proposition. The guard schedule also had to be taken into account, as two maids that were taking an extra long time to clean would be odd, so they made sure to be seen by guards that were about to be relieved. With luck the bored soldiers would forget to tell their replacements about the two girls in the queen's chambers.
The passageway came to an end quickly since there were only about a dozen paces between the two chambers. Leona blew out the candle and put it safely on the floor of the passageway. With one ear to the door she listened for any noise in the Tisroc's chamber. After a few moments of hearing nothing, she quietly pushed the door open and they slipped inside. If Leona had thought that the deserted queens apartments were lavish, they paled in comparison to the rooms the girls were in now. Tapestries covered every wall, cushions were on each lounge and the bed was as large as a poor family's house!
"Let's get started," Leona said, forcing her mind back to business. "Look for anything that seems out of place, strange amulets or unusual herbs in strange places..."
The girls had been searching fruitlessly for nearly ten minutes when Leona froze. "Do you hear that?"
They looked at each other with horror as the sounds of people in the next room came clearly through the open door. Without a moment to spare they slipped under the high bed and prayed that they hadn't been seen or heard.
"We shall likely be closeted together most of the day and part of the night, so do feel free to tell your replacements that I am here with the Tisroc and we should not be disturbed." The soft, calm tones of the High Priest conversing with the guards outside could be heard even under the bed. Leona shared a look of even greater horror with Adara at the thought of being caught by the High Priest himself.
At the sound of the door closing the High Priest's voice changed. "Come," he said sharply to someone who, although silent, had obviously been in the antechamber with him. Under the cover of the blanket hanging off the bed, Leona could see two sets of feet cross the room in front of her. To her bewilderment they continued onward towards the wall leading into the next suite. Her confusion was replaced with excitement and understanding when another secret door flipped open at a touch of the High Priest's hand. He took up a lit lantern and the two sets of feet entered the unknown passage, leaving the door open behind them. Within moments the room was empty again. Being as quiet as possible the girls slid out from underneath the bed.
Now the true decision was upon them, to make their escape while it was still possible, or to risk everything and follow the High Priest into whatever lay through that passage. As one, the two women moved towards the open passageway following the moving light of the High Priest's lantern.
TBC...
Author's note for the chapter. Okay, I almost feel guilty leaving it at a cliffhanger, but there really wasn't any better place to leave it. I'll try and get back into this story more and get the next chapter out faster, but I'm just having a hideous case of writer's block that doesn't appear to want to go away. Wish me luck and please remember to review so I know that there are still people who haven't given up on me!