Author's Note: I am once again going on a short vacation, and may not be able to begin the next chapter until Saturday. I will have it up as soon as possible, but it may not be around until next week. My apologies ahead of time, and I hope I get it up sooner. Also, I am aware that it is rumored that "The Horse and His Boy" took place during the year 1014 rather than 1005 as I tentatively claim. However, as I cannot recall it ever being specifically stated, I have taken some artistic license and shifted the years.
Disclaimer: I do not own the wonderful world of Narnia. I simply dip unfairly into Her history.
70. Storm
Peter and Edmund sat on Edmund's bed and talked for another hour about all they had been through. Eventually it became too much, and Peter fell asleep on Edmund's shoulder. Knowing his brother needed the rest, and still feeling worn out himself, the younger King gently lay back on the bed with his brother and fell asleep as well.
It was the morning of the next day before Lucy woke her siblings gently. Edmund noticed that Nath was not in his bed, but he didn't dwell on it. Peter shifted against him, not wanting to wake and stubborn to the last. Edmund smiled weakly and brushed some hair out of Peter's face before flicking his forehead gently, making his brother wince.
"That is no way to wake a High King." Peter muttered, still only awake in technical terms.
Lucy giggled as Edmund simply shrugged and flicked him again, enticing a small smile out of his brother. The two sat up a moment later and watched as their sister bounded out of the room, leaving them on their own.
"Are you ready to go home?" Peter's voice was still thick and somewhat slurred with sleep.
"No, I think I would much rather stay here." Edmund rolled his eyes and smirked weakly.
Peter planted a brotherly kiss on Edmund's forehead before he had a chance to protest. The two said nothing more. Rather, Peter stood and held out his hands to help his brother, who proved to be still a bit disoriented as he struggled to stand on his own. After a few seconds and more than a little bit of assistance from Peter, Edmund managed to regain his equilibrium and walk on his own up to the deck. The ship was bustling with more occupants than yesterday, and Edmund was stunned to find himself overrun by four very familiar faces.
Nasrin wrapped her arms tightly around Edmund's waist, talking quietly about how worried she was and how exciting the events were that led up to their being saved. Calla was hugging him gently, as though doting upon a younger brother, and Edmund found himself able to relax in her grip. Her hugs, though not overly frequent, were always comforting. Nath, as Edmund knew he had to learn to call him, had a hand on his shoulder and was squeezing tightly, keeping silent but expressing his shock, awe, and pride with his eyes. Akmal stood a few paces off, mimicking Nath and looking as though he was about to explode.
After a few moments, Edmund found himself beginning to panic. Though he was surrounded by people, none of them were Peter. Where had he gone? The two had been side by side just seconds ago. He wanted Peter back. He needed him. Edmund tried to turn and search for his brother, beginning to grow frantic, but the arms holding him in place would not relinquish him. They seemed unaware of his growing fear. Nasrin continued to blabber excitedly and Calla was beginning to comb his mussed hair with her fingers. The only one who seemed somewhat aware of Edmund's alarm was Nath. He frowned a bit as Edmund began to pale, and when he realized Edmund was trying to escape, he released his shoulder and took a step back.
"Calla, Nasrin, let go."
At first, Nath's words didn't seem to register. But eventually they sank in and Calla pulled away worriedly. Nasrin, who would not stop talking, jumped a bit when Calla took her by the shoulder and pulled her away gently. Never giving politeness a thought, Edmund bolted from the group and turned his head in horror. He couldn't find Peter. The crowd had seemed to grow thicker as he had been fussed over, and his brother was no longer in sight. His breathing quickened and his hands began to tremble as he fought through the horde of people. Just as he was about to slip into a full-on panic attack, Edmund felt a hand on his shoulder. He spun around frantically, freezing for a moment before collapsing into the arms of a very worried and confused Peter.
"Edmund, what's wrong? What happened?"
Edmund simply shook his head, unable to answer. His entire body continued to quiver as Peter stroked his back soothingly. He bit his lip as a light tear skidded down his cheek and soaked into his brother's shirt. It was a full minute or more before he was able to calm down. Edmund was eventually able to coax himself to pull away from his brother, and he suppressed a shudder when Peter tilted his chin upward with a finger.
"Are you alright?" He frowned a bit and brushed some hair out of Edmund's face.
Edmund nodded weakly, lowering his head and fixing his gaze on the boards of the ship. He studied them intently, trying to distract himself from the embarrassment. He had been away from his brother for nearly two hundred days, and now that they had been reunited, he couldn't last five minutes?
"No you're not. Let's get you back to your room, you need more sleep."
Edmund shook his head fervently, clinging to Peter and doing his best in refusing to move. With his weakened state, staying rooted in one spot was nearly impossible, but without a fight that Peter wasn't willing to put up, he managed to keep them from going more than a couple of feet.
"Edmund, please tell me what's wrong. You're worrying me."
He simply shrugged in reply. He wasn't sure what was wrong. He couldn't figure out why the thought of not being next to Peter made him want to tremble. He didn't know why panic had risen so quickly, or why he had been so shaken by it. It wasn't as though he had anyone's safety to worry about. He was on a ship surrounded by Narnians and Archenlanders. But despite all of the sensible things he was thinking, he couldn't help but act completely insensible.
"Ed…don't do this. You're safe now. You're with me. Don't block me out," Edmund winced at the desperation in his brother's voice. "Please…"
Before Edmund could form a response, he heard footsteps. He looked up a bit, spotting a worried Nath standing a few feet off. He was watching Edmund solemnly, though he didn't seem at all surprised.
"High King Peter…if I may?" Peter looked up at Nath as well and seemed to almost be taken off guard by being called by his title.
"Nath?" He frowned a bit in confusion.
"I was just wondering if I may speak with you later on," Nath's eyes never moved from Edmund. "Not now, of course, but when you have a free moment." In other words, alone, Edmund knew.
"Certainly."
Edmund was sure Peter didn't mean to be so short with Nath. He could feel his older brother's eyes on him, and he felt guilty for forcing his brother to remain so preoccupied for so long. Had it been any other time, he would have offered to step away from the conversation, but even the thought of leaving Peter for a moment made his stomach drop and his hands quiver. He lowered his eyes back to the floorboards as Nath thanked Peter with a worried smile and left.
"Any idea what he wants to talk about?" Peter asked softly, stroking Edmund's hair.
The younger brother shook his head slightly. He had no idea what Nath could want to discuss alone. He had a sinking feeling it was about himself, but there was just a good a chance that it wasn't. There were a lot of things that Nath could want to talk about. The plan to free the slaves, what would happen to him, if he could be of any assistance, what to expect of the others, et cetera.
"Edmund, please talk to me." The desperation in Peter's voice made Edmund look up, and he bit his lip at the tears in his brother's eyes.
"I don't know what to say." Edmund whispered, dropping his head to Peter's shoulder.
"You could start by telling me what's the matter…" There was no harshness in Peter's voice whatsoever, but perfectly placed gentility and love.
No, he couldn't. Edmund couldn't bring himself to tell Peter what Mahir did to him, what he was put through. It would break Peter's heart, and more likely than not, send him on whatever ship Mahir was on and have him return a murderer. He just couldn't do that to his brother.
"I missed you so much…" Again, his words came out in a whisper.
"Oh, Edmund."
Peter pulled him tightly to his chest, hugging him and allowing his little brother to cling and sob until exhaustion would no longer permit it. Once Edmund had cried himself out and Peter's hands were beginning to tingle with rubbing his brother's back for so long, the two made their way below deck and away from the swarm of people above. Edmund allowed his brother to gently lay him on his bed and cover him with a blanket before sitting at his feet and watching nervously. Edmund pulled his knees to his chest and rolled over onto his side out of habit and a search for comfort. He scooted as close to the wall as he could go and lifted the coverlet, silently asking Peter to lie next to him. His brother complied, and the two held each other close once both were comfortable.
"There's something you're not telling me," It wasn't a question. Edmund gulped, as close to a "yes" as Peter had expected. "Please tell me. I'm here now and I'm not letting you go. I need you to talk to me, Ed."
Edmund drew in a shaky breath before formulating a reply. "What did Phillip tell you, exactly, when he returned?"
Peter spoke slowly, planning out every word perfectly before speaking them. "He said that…you were in the possession of a Calormene. A very cruel one who, from what he could see, held no reservations in hurting you. He also said that he was worried about what you may do to yourself. He wasn't sure what was wrong at the time, but he explained to us in detail how you had suffered heat stroke when you freed him, and how you had said something about being killed. He explained what had happened to both of you from the moment you were taken, but he was more concerned about the future rather than the past."
"And well he should have been." Edmund sighed before freezing and biting his lip. He hadn't meant to say that out loud.
"Ed? What happened to you?"
"Isn't it obvious?" Edmund motioned to his entire body. "It's pretty clear he starved me, though I'm ashamed to say that my getting sick was my own doing."
"And your shoulder?"
"What?" Edmund hadn't expected him to know about that. He had been unconscious in the few seconds his siblings had seen him in such a poor state before being healed, and so had been unable to complain of anything, and there hadn't been time for them to inspect him and find the bruises and cuts that riddled his body.
"When I picked you up, Nath told me to be careful of your shoulder."
"Oh…that. I had dislocated it trying to take care of one of the horses."
"Liar."
Edmund looked down. He wanted to tell the truth, especially since it was Peter he would be telling it to. He just simply couldn't bring himself. He didn't want to have to see the shattered look he knew Peter would give, the tears that would well in his brother's eyes, the pain and guilt that would move him to utter uselessness. He just wouldn't be able to bear it. When he knew Peter was ready and braced, perhaps he would tell him. But not now. Not when he was still in shock over finding his brother. Not when the pain of losing him and the guilt of blaming himself was so fresh.
For the moment, though, he couldn't think of what to say to him. He was lying, and if anyone could tell when Edmund was lying, it was Peter. The two had always had a sense for that, knowing when something was off with the other.
"I'm sorry. I just…I don't want to talk about it. Please." Edmund fixed his gaze on the bedspread.
Peter sighed, not unkindly. "Alright, Ed. I understand. I just wish you would say so instead of lying to me, alright?" Edmund nodded weakly. "Thank you."
Edmund hadn't realized he had fallen asleep until he found himself waking to a much darker room. He was alone, and the more the realization sunk in, the more the panic rose. He jerked to a sitting position and stood up as quickly as possible before succumbing to a head rush and sinking back to the bed. Once it had passed, he stood up again, slower this time, and raced out the door. He headed swiftly for the stairs, too blinded by nightfall and his hurry to pay much attention to exactly where he was going.
As he ran up the stairwell, he flew squarely into something big and hard. His feet lost their grip on the stairs and he found himself tumbling downward. A shout of surprise and fear filled the sparse hallway before he hit the landing with a sickening crack. He heard more than saw a dark figure rush for him, and smelled more than felt the arms that immediately engulfed his tiny frame.
"Are you alright?" His worried brother's voice floated down to him.
"I couldn't find you." Edmund whispered through the stars that were swimming before him.
"I'm here. I'm sorry I left. I hadn't expected you to wake up, or for me to be gone so long."
Edmund said nothing as Peter carried him back to his room. He began to protest weakly when Peter set him down, but shut up when his brother sat down next to him and brushed his hair soothingly. Edmund winced when he passed over the bump that was sure to become much larger.
"Nothing serious, I don't think. No concussion I'm sure." Despite the positive news, Peter still sounded worried, and something else. Hurt, it almost seemed like.
"Where did you go?"
"Nath wanted to speak with me for a moment."
"Oh…that's right. I had forgotten. What about?"
"Just…things."
"Now who is withholding information?" Edmund frowned.
Peter looked down in shame. "It was about you."
Edmund paled. "What did he say?"
"Not too much. He refused to go into detail, said he figured you would want to do that yourself. He just said you went through a lot, and we need to step carefully around you. He said that…that we shouldn't expect you to be the same person when you left," Peter was beginning to tear up, and Edmund swallowed his frustration and squeezed his brother's knee. "Please tell me you're still the same person."
Edmund sat up weakly and said nothing as Peter began to cry into his shoulder. He stroked his brother's hair soothingly, trying to think of something reassuring to tell him that wasn't a lie.
"I wish I could, Peter. I really do," At this, Peter cried harder. "But if I'm not right now, I will be. I promise."
"Swear?" Peter sounded so small, and it killed Edmund.
"Swear."
The two spent the rest of the evening on Edmund's bed, once again falling asleep snuggled up to each other. Dawn came and went, and by the time Edmund woke up, he found himself facing a wide awake Peter and a midday sun shining through the window. He rubbed his eyes weakly and propped himself up on one arm.
"What time is it?" He mumbled.
"Past noon. Susan's going to bring us lunch soon. We've cast off, and we'll be back in Narnia in a couple of days. How are you?"
"I'm fine."
It was obvious that Peter was unsatisfied with such a short answer, but his protest was interrupted by a clatter of dishes announcing Susan's arrival. She stumbled into the room, looking far too focused on the plates of food to be safe. She carefully rested the tray on Edmund's bed, struggling to keep things steady as she forced the drinks on Peter. He watched her stupidly for a moment before swooping in to help, giving Edmund his water and plate and taking his own. Once she was free of her burden, Susan sagged down onto the bed and looked at her younger brother with a worried smile.
"How are you?"
"I'm fine." He answered again, giving a small smile.
"Are you sure? You've been sleeping an awful lot, and you look so thin." Susan brushed a hand over his cheekbone and frowned.
"Since when have I ever been fat enough for you to be satisfied?" Edmund's smile turned into a smirk.
"Not fat, just not skinny. You've hardly been more than skin and bones, and what little fat you did have is gone. It can't be healthy."
"Then I'll leave it to you to fix me."
Susan smiled a bit and nodded. Just as she was about to say something, Lucy bounded into the room excitedly. She, too, wanted a turn to see her brother, it seemed, and she had been patient long enough. She gently climbed onto Edmund's bed and settled herself in his lap, fourteen though she was. He wrapped his arms around her waist gently and allowed her to rest her head on his shoulder.
The four sat together for what seemed like hours, talking about nothing of great importance. The girls seemed hesitant to dredge up what had happened to Edmund, waiting, instead, for him to tell them on his own time and terms. They spoke mostly of the Cair, from little things, such as how well his corn had grown to things as great as the battle between Narnia and the Ettin Giants to the North. They picked at how much Edmund had changed physically, with his hair, weight, and how he looked as though he had tanned nicely but had, as usual, lost it quickly. Edmund was glad for the information, and the distraction. He missed these meaningless yet memorable talks between his siblings and himself, and he wished he could make himself talk more.
Eventually, the siblings ran out of things they wished to talk about at that moment. Edmund, missing Phillip greatly, excused himself. He rushed to the small stables as quickly as he could, struggling to keep the panic to a minimum before he got there. Luckily he managed to succeed and found his Horse before he began to show any real signs of his fear.
"Edmund," Phillip greeted him with a slight bow of his head. The worry and relief in his voice was evident. "How are you?"
"I'm alright, you? I've missed you." Edmund walked over to him and rested against his shoulder, leaning his head into Phillip's neck.
"I've missed you as well. I'm doing well, now that I know you're safe."
Edmund nodded meekly. "What happened to you after I left the gate open? Mahir said he had killed you…brought back your meat and everything." The memory of it made Edmund's stomach turn.
"He told you what?" Phillip's ears pinned back sharply. "He did no such thing. He never saw me again after he took you away from me."
"Did you ever see him?"
"In a way. I followed you to the house to make sure you were safe, and watched as two of the captives took you upstairs. I saw that Calormene through a window, and I bolted just before he came outside."
"You're sure he didn't see you then?"
"Positive. He went straight to the smokehouse and then back inside."
"What happened to you afterward?" Edmund was beginning to feel weak again, whether from hunger or shock he wasn't quite sure, but he did his best to hide it.
"I stayed around the house overnight, listening to make sure you were safe. When dawn came, I had to leave or else I would have been caught. I hated leaving you there, but you went through so much trouble for me…I wasn't going to squander it. I made it to the market after an hour or so, and for the first couple of hours there, no one took much notice of me. There were a lot of horses in my similar state, and when I hung near them, no one looked up.
"I was eventually able to find a pair of such horses who were being loaded onto a ship. Looking back, I know it was rather foolish of me to follow, but I didn't see any other ships docked nearby, or any other horses that I could take cover with. I followed them on board where I was quickly spotted as not one of their group. Apparently there is no honor among Calormenes, for none of the crew offered to find my proper owner. They placed me in a stall, and we sailed for several days until we reached Calormen.
"Once there, I was sold at a rather large auction. I was bought by a servant boy, and at first I was afraid I would have to deal with the same treatment as before. To my surprise, though, I was delivered to a grand palace and given as a gift to one Lasaraleen Tarkheena." At this, Phillip smirked as only a Horse can and Edmund blanched.
"No. There's no way. Lasaraleen? Not the one Aravis told us about who helped get her out of the city?"
"One and the same, my King. She was a rather good mistress and rode me often. I lived with her for quite some time, until I was sure it was safe to reveal who I really was. Though she is quite the irresponsible filly, she managed to keep a level head and was more than happy to help me escape. It took some planning, but after 170 days of capture, we staged my flight.
"It was her idea, surprisingly. She planned out a ride to the edge of the city and insisted upon me as her carriage horse. We were escorted by a few guards, but none on very swift mounts, again somehow arranged by Lasaraleen. When we reached the edge of the city, an apparent consort to the Tarkheena who had been following us made his mare bolt by me. My part was the easiest of the plan, I must say. I simply acted frightened and bolted, making sure none could catch me before we had cleared the city walls. Once we had, Lasaraleen cut my binds and loosed me to the desert.
"It was all rather exciting and Lasaraleen took great joy in planning and acting it out. Her guards chased after her favorite Horse, of course, but none could catch me and they thought me not a good enough cause to give good chase. I traveled by the river for the most part, only breaking away when it seemed absolutely necessary. I managed to avoid capture and made it into Archenland ten days after the escape. I was found by a farmer, and once I explained my predicament, he, along with many other locals, created a network to assist me in reaching Narnia. Prince Cor himself was part of that network and escorted me personally to Narnia, where he made sure I met with Peter the moment Cair Paravel was in sight. I'm sure your brother has explained to you the rest of what happened?" Phillip tilted his head a bit.
"He has. He said both of you were nervous wrecks on the voyage to get me."
"Rather," Phillip nodded. "We were so afraid that you had been sold or killed."
"I managed to survive." Edmund gave a weak smile.
"Thank Aslan for that."
Edmund nodded. Finally too weak to hold himself up, he slid to the floor and rested against the wall of Phillip's stall. The Horse sank down next to him, shifting a bit to get comfortable before pressing his nose gently against his boy's cheek.
"Are you not well? You've gone awfully pale." The worry was evident in Phillip's voice. Edmund was sick of others worrying about him.
"I'm fine. I'm just a bit tired."
"Have you not been sleeping well?"
"It's a bit hard to when you're plagued with nightmares." Edmund had meant it as a joke, but Phillip didn't take it that way.
"Have you spoken to your brother about the nightmares? Perhaps he could help."
"I will. Right after Peter finally yells at me."
"Sire?"
Edmund looked up at him and smiled weakly. "Peter…well…everyone's been so worried, no one's given me that look-how-stupid-you-were lecture yet. Once Peter finally storms over to me and says everything he needs and wants to say, I'll know he'll be ready to handle more of my problems. Then I'll tell him."
Phillip smiled a bit. "You underestimate what your brother can handle."
"Or perhaps he overestimates it. Either way, I know he's not ready to hear everything yet."
If Phillip replied, Edmund never heard it. He was fast asleep within moments, and as he slept, his dreams were full of storms, both literal and figurative, and all were centered on Peter and how he would react when Edmund finally told him the truth.
