A/N: It's really hard getting this story going. I only have a vague idea on how to work on Edmund's and Lucy's stories and I'm finding it hard to have time to think of details. The next update is bound to be long since I'm also very busy during the holiday season. Anyway, here's my long overdue Christmas gift.

Chapter Ten

The Telmarines

The boy had been walking for three days now, wandering aimlessly through these never-ending woods. It wasn't really an unpleasant experience. The woods were full of life. The trees were thick with leaves and several of them bore plenty of fruit. He never went hungry as it was easy enough to pick fresh fruits and berries whenever he felt it and wash it down with cool water from any nearby spring. The sounds of grasshoppers, frogs and birds burst into endless merry songs everywhere he went while the brightly coloured flowers always provided him something pleasant to look at. If he wasn't so worried about his missing memory and his being alone, he would be content to settle here. He felt comfortable in these woods.

Yet, still he longed to hear another voice. He aimed to find reassurance, some clue on who he really was. So he walked on, hoping for a settlement, a town or even just another human like him. Several times he thought he heard words of his own tongue said in quiet whispers. But whenever he ran forward to find the sounds, he found no one there at all but some small creature—a hare, a snake or a bird, no humans at all. Again and again it happened, but when it seems like when he would chance upon a voice, the person speaking would disappear before he found the source. At length, he wondered if it was perhaps just his imagination playing tricks on him.

It was nearing sunset and he was about to find a place to spend the night, when it happened again. He heard voices. He hesitated following it for a moment, thinking perhaps it was his imagination again. But the voices continued and it convinced him that they were real enough. He followed the sounds until he noticed the smell of smoke. Someone had obviously built a fire. He followed the scents and sounds, pushing past thick branches, until he discovered a clearing. He could see eight bulky men, all of fair skin and hair and older than him. They sat around the fire they built, roasting something over the coals. Their clothes were as coarse as the manner of their speech and they laughed mirthlessly over each others' stories. He felt something akin to dislike at their behavior and he deliberated for a long moment whether he wanted to show himself. For about half an hour, he remained in the bushes, quietly observing them. Eventually, he shifted his position to take a closer look and perhaps discern their words.

"Crack!"

He nearly jumped out of his skin. He had inadvertently stepped on a dried twig and the sound announced his presence. The men all looked up in alarm and drew their weapons: an assortment of swords, daggers, scimitars and axes.

"Who's there?! Show yourself!" challenged the biggest of the men.

There was nothing to do but comply. He was armed himself with a sword, but he didn't want to use force when he didn't have to. Besides, he doubted if he could take on all eight of them at once.

"Begging your pardon," he began. "I come in peace." He raised his arms as a gesture.

The men stared at him for a long-moment. They eyed him from head to toe and he knew they were contemplating his rather grand tunic and sword.

"Who are you?" asked the oldest-looking man. "Are you alone?"

He hesitated for a moment, but finally nodded.

"Are you lost lad?" The elderly man asked.

He hesitated again. He wasn't sure if that was a mistake, but it was enough answer for the men.

"Come sit by us then," the elderly man offered with a grin that revealed gold teeth. "Don't be scared. Have some mutton." He shouted at one of the other men to give him a piece and ordered for wine.

He decided that he might as well keep to the good side of these men so he sat down, a little distant from them though he stayed off on partaking the food and drink they offered. Something in him felt cautious about eating anything offered by strangers.

"What's your name boy?" the elderly man asked.

He bit his lip, unable to answer. He didn't know if he could trust these men with the knowledge that he couldn't remember.

The man could sense his discomfort and introduced himself first as Loki, before introducing the rest of his companions. Loki told him they were travelers from Telmar, a place farther off to the West. They were on their way back home and were just spending one last night here in these woods after hunting for game.

When Loki finished his tale, he turned back to the boy and the latter knew there was no more delaying the inevitable. It was either tell them the truth about his amnesia or make up a name for himself. The men looked friendly enough. He thought that perhaps honesty was the better way to go and perhaps the men could give him a clue on who he was.

"I-I really don't know who I am. I was hoping you could help me. I woke up in the woods three days ago and I don't seem to remember."

Loki nodded. "Ahh, poor lad. You must have fallen into an accident then and bumped your head. But perhaps you are a Telmarine, like us. Maybe you lost your party. Telmarines come and go in these woods often. You're welcome to travel with us home if you wish. We could use an extra hand traveling back, what with the cargo and all."

He noticed their possessions. The Telmarines had something like five large covered carts with wheels that were attached to six horses who would draw them. It instantly reminded him of a name for it: "a circus caravan"—whatever that was.

He didn't answer Loki immediately. He felt something about these woods. He wasn't sure leaving it was the wise thing to do. "I don't know. I feel as if what I'm looking for is right here, perhaps my companions are still here."

Loki shrugged. "No rash decisions yet, lad. You think about it tonight, you're welcome to stay with us, get to be friends. But I do hope you join us. There's nothing here for you in Narnia just woods."

Narnia. The name rang familiar to him. "Is this the name of this place?" he asked and the men nodded. "Is there a town then here in Narnia?"

"Town?" Loki laughed and his companions joined him. "You're lucky to find even another human here. This land's humans died out a long time ago. There's nothing here but trees and animals, and ghosts, they say. Some say there are weird creatures here that talk like us, but they aren't proper companions for a lad such as yourself."

There was a sudden shrill sound that he couldn't quite identify. It was like an agonized cry that made him suddenly shiver. But it was gone before he could listen further.

"What was that?" he asked.

"That's what I told you about," replied Loki without flinching. "There are strange things here in these woods. Unexplained voices, screams. You'll go mad if you stay here. But back home in Telmar, that's proper living. You should see the grand city states of Potens or Asgard where we're from." And Loki told him of the populous cities full of grand houses. There were large roads full of caravans and horses bringing wares as far as Calormen to the marketplace. And all around were the entertainment houses and the hall of warriors where the best fighters vied for titles and were honoured as heroes. None of what Loki said reminded the boy of anything at all. They all seemed strange and new to him, yet he felt a curiosity to see them himself. The way Loki told about the warriors invoked a longing for adventure in him that he soon forgot the mysterious sound he heard earlier.

"You look like a lad who can be a warrior," said Loki. "You think you can handle a sword right?"

He looked at his own sword. He had sheathed and stared at it countless times while wandering in the woods. It was made of fine steel, he knew and his grip on it was sure and steady. He figured he had some training before.

"I'm not sure," the boy replied. "I think I might."

"How 'bout we test it then." He called one of his companions and told him they would do a mock duel. The man that came forward was in his mid-twenties but was only a few inches taller than the boy. He had the bad habit of spitting every few minutes. He had a sword in his hand and readily took on the challenge.

The boy was alarmed. He didn't want to be on the bad side of these people, but all of them seemed intent on getting the mock-fight. Defeated, he unsheathed his sword and agreed to the fight.

They faced off a little distance from the fire. His opponent swung his sword madly left and right, grinning at him. Each time the boy only dodged.

"Come on, Narnian lost boy," teased his Telmarine opponent. "Use your sword like this." He swung his sword in the air frantically in what he thought was an elaborate move. But the boy could only laugh inwardly. It was like watching a child making pretend sword play. He let the Telmarine swing his sword again and he continued to dodge—which wasn't doing much.

"Swing it Narnian," the Telmarine continued to tease. "Watch me do it," he swung again.

The boy rolled his eyes. He was getting bored at this. He finally thrust his sword, his blade making contact with the young Telmarine's. With a quick flick of his wrist he flipped the amateur Telmarine's sword and it came flying off his hand. The shocked Telmarine didn't even have time to react, the boy held the tip of his sword to the Telmarine's chest.

Everyone grew silent until Loki began clapping his hands.

"Well done lad," said Loki. "But that was just a game and your opponent doesn't really know how to handle a sword. He just likes to show. How about we try you with someone with more experience?"

Loki called for another of his companions. This time it was a much larger man with a scimitar. The boy again didn't feel like fighting, but he didn't want to appear weak either, so he took on the challenge. His new opponent obviously knew how hold his weapon, but the boy also noticed he also lacked skill in using it. It didn't take long for the boy to disarm him as well, earning him applause from Loki who pitted him with another one of his companions.

Again and again, Loki pitted him until the boy had a turn with everyone except Loki himself. Each time, he was able to disarm each one with not much difficulty as none of them appeared to possess any excellent skill with fighting. Their talent for fighting was obviously just enough to be passable for self-defense. His confidence grew and in a way he was glad he had shown his prowess. He was assured somewhat that Loki and his men would think twice before they harmed him, if that was their intention.

"A good show, lad, good show," praised Loki after he defeated the final man. "You'll make a fine warrior in Telmar. You're a natural."

"I'm not sure I want to be one," the boy said. "I need to find out who I am first."

"Well perhaps you shall find who you are there," offered Loki. "Perhaps someone will recognize you in the city. Maybe your companions are already there looking for you and thinking you are lost or dead in these Narnian woods."

He considered it, but still couldn't give an answer. "Give me until morning to think of it," he said.

Loki agreed and offered him a spare blanket and a place for the night in one of the tents they put up. The boy however, politely refused and stayed a little distance away from the men in the clearing under the stars.

He stayed awake, his sword at his side the whole time, long after all the men were asleep. He thought hard about what they offered him. Could he really trust these men? But on the other hand, what are the odds that he would find other humans in these woods? What if what Loki said was true: that there are no more humans here? Would not it be better if he went to the city? It did sound an interesting place to be and he would like to see it himself. If he stayed here and later changed his mind and go to the cities in Telmar alone, he had no guide. He feared wandering aimlessly for the rest of his life here with no clue on who he was and no companion whatsoever. These were his last thoughts before his eyelids began to close in exhaustion. He felt he heard something like another scream followed by the sounds of sobbing but his mind was too tired to investigate and he eventually drifted off to sleep.

When he awoke it was still dark, though there was a lighter patch in the sky that told him dawn would approach soon. His sword and all his possessions were still with him and no one appeared to touch him through the night. All the men were still sleeping soundly in their tents.

He wandered off and gathered himself a breakfast of fruit and berries with cool water from the spring to drink. Just as he was splashing his face, he heard voices again.

"Quiet, there's a man."

"He doesn't look like one of them."

"It doesn't matter. We can't trust him. They already took our cousins. He's coming, run!"

He quickly followed the voices to a nearby bush but when he got there, he only managed to see the end tail of a scampering squirrel. He was sure he didn't imagine it this time and he puzzled over what he heard. Something about all this disturbed him.

"Lad?" Loki called from behind him, startling him.

"I was just washing up," he explained.

"Have you reached a decision?" asked Loki.

He didn't know what it was, but something was telling him, he couldn't trust these men and that he would be better off in these woods, even when he kept hearing strange voices.

"I think I'm going to stay here. My companions are probably still here. Perhaps I'll wait awhile and find them."

Loki gave a sinister tsk-tsking sound. "Too bad, we could all be good friends. But before you go, do stay with us for breakfast. We will leave after."

The boy shook his head. "I've already eaten a bit of fruit. Thank you, but I'm not very hungry."

"Ah well, then you don't want to go without saying goodbye to my companions then."

The boy heaved a sigh and followed Loki back to their camp clearing. It was only the polite thing to do.

At the camp, they found five of the men, busy saddling the horses and hitching the harness to their carts. They all stopped what they were doing and turned to look at them.

"Well men," greeted Loki to his men as he eyed them carefully. "I've found our Narnian lost lad and he's decided not to go with us. He's here to say goodbye."

"Thank you for your hospitality," the boy began, but he was cut off by one of the men, the young man who he fought first the previous night.

"Are you sure you don't want to stay for breakfast? We're having lamb."

He shook his head. "Oh no, thank you. I don't want to impose further—"

But the Telmarine youth wasn't listening, one of his companions brought out a lamb from one of the carts. It was bleating madly and trying to get away from the man's grip. The Telmarine took his sword.

"No! Please… don't!"

The boy stood shocked, for it was the lamb that spoke. But the Telmarine didn't even flinch, he ran the sword into the lamb viciously several times until it stopped moving.

"T-that lamb, it spoke!" cried the boy. Though it surprised him, the way the men killed it was the one that horrified him beyond anything he had seen.

"Strange creatures," said Loki evenly.

Another cry pierced the clearing.

"What was that?" demanded the boy. He felt his insides turn to jelly. Something here was very, very wrong.

"Well, I'll show you lad," said Loki and he led the boy towards one of the carts and opened the door revealing an assortment of creatures: foxes, beavers, three dogs, a bear and on one corner a young girl dressed in leaves though her skin and hair were coloured green that told him she wasn't at all human.

The boy stared in confusion. "What the—"

Without warning, he was shoved inside and he heard the slam of the door behind him. He banged back it with his fist but he was locked in with the rest of the creatures in the cart in the dark.

Light flooded as someone opened what appeared to be a large window at the top of the cart at his eye level. He could see that the window was still covered with a fine steel mesh. Loki leaned over to peer at him.

"Loki, what is the meaning of this? Let me out!"

He again made that tsk-tsking sound with his tongue. "I told you lad, you would make a fine warrior in Telmar. You had a choice. You could have come willingly and spared yourself the inconvenience of the journey. But since you're not willing, you'll just have to travel with the rest of the creatures I found for the freak act."

Loki disappeared from view. The boy desperately banged on the walls of the cart.

"It is no use. It is solid steel, not even a bear can break," whispered the airy voice of the girl with him.

He turned to them with a questioning look.

"They're slavers," explained the girl. "They come to the Narnian woods to find new creatures to exploit and bring to Telmar. Some of us will be killed and eaten for food, some for their fur," she gestured to the beavers who huddled together at the foot of the bear for comfort. And some," she looked down, indicating herself. "For entertainment during their bloody warrior games and shows."

He felt his knees buckle and he knelt down to be on level with her. "And I'm to be—"

"A warrior," she said sadly. "I've heard the men talking since last night. You are their finest find on this trip."

"But why?" he asked, even more confused and shocked by what he was hearing.

The girl just stared at him with quiet horror in her eyes and in an emotionless voice answered: "Because warriors fetch the highest price as slaves. They earn more than their weight in gold when they die in the arena."