Edmund and Peter's footsteps fell in sync as they walked together through the village square. The day was cloudy and dreary, but Lucy had been craving golden delicious apples that morning and the castle kitchen had just run out, so Peter volunteered them to take a ride to the village and fetch some for her. Their horses were tied up at a stable right outside town.
"These better be the best bloody apples Lucy's ever tasted," Edmund declared, trying in vain to brush his hair out of his eyes despite the wind making it impossible.
"Lighten up, Ed," Peter encouraged brightly. "Look who's in charge of the apple stall today!"
Edmund glanced up to see a fair-haired girl behind the stall, rearranging golden apples. "Oh, lovely," he sighed.
"I'm telling you, she fancies you." Peter nudged Edmund with a teasing glint in his eye.
Edmund rolled his eyes. "Please, Peter, could you go without me? I can't stand how she acts when I'm around."
"Whatever you want, Ed," Peter said good-naturedly, and he strode over to the apple stall.
Edmund turned and spotted a bench in a shadowy corner a good distance away. He made his way over, thinking it was a good place for him to lay low until Peter finished his purchase. He sat down on the cold, biting seat of the bench and rubbed his shivering arms. To avoid looking toward the apple stall and causing the girl to notice him he decided to people-watch instead, which resulted in him making eye contact with a tall, thin man, who was staring right at him.
Edmund nodded politely at the man. The man made no move to nod back, but glared at him instead. An uneasy feeling crawled up Ed's spine. He glanced somewhere else to avoid the icy blue gaze directed toward him, but this didn't seem to shake the man, who Ed could see start to move in his direction out of the corner of his eye. He stood up from the bench and began to make his way back to Peter, who was laughing at something the apple girl was saying. Before he had taken five steps, he felt a hand on his shoulder, long fingernails pinching through his shirt.
"You. You are King Edmund, correct?" The man inquired gruffly.
Edmund shook his shoulder out of the man's grasp. "Yes," he replied, and started to turn back to the stall. The man grabbed his shoulder again and forced him around.
"King Edmund the traitor?" he sneered.
Edmund flinched, but showed no trace of his unease in his expression. "King Edmund the Just," he corrected, jerking back his shoulder once again, but this time the man held on tighter and he couldn't get away. "Excuse me, sir, I need to go see about some apples," Edmund stated politely, his heart beginning to beat harder in his chest.
"I don't follow servants of the White Witch," the man spat, and droplets of saliva flew into Edmund's eyes. He blinked with a start, and before he knew what was happening the man had shoved him roughly against a cobblestone wall that was nearby and had his hand around his throat. Edmund kicked out by instinct, getting him in the thigh a few times but not hard enough for him to let go. He could see a few shoppers nearby, frozen with shock and making no move to help him. The back of Peter's head was visible, he was examining a few apples. Edmund gasped, trying to make some sort of noise to get his attention, but to no avail as his air supply was completely cut off.
Darkness was just lingering on the edge of Edmund's vision when the apple girl looked up and screamed. Peter turned around, and the apples he was holding thudded to the ground. "Hey!" he yelled, already advancing toward them swiftly. "Get off him!"
A frightened villager exclaimed, "The High King!" The man, alarmed, had enough sense to drop Edmund before Peter had a chance to reach them. He turned tail and ran, but was too slow for Peter, who tackled him from behind. Edmund, who landed on his hands and knees, coughed up phlegm onto the pavement.
The sun glinted off Rhindon as Peter unsheathed it and pointed it at the man's neck, his knees pinning his shoulders. "Treason!" he yelled, his voice echoing around the square. By now some villagers had found a couple guards, who rushed to aid the King. Peter sheathed his sword and got off the man so the guards could properly secure him, and he turned toward Edmund. The man was dragged out of the square, screaming curses at the two kings.
By now Edmund had gotten to his feet, steadying himself against the wall with one hand. Peter said nothing, only wrapped his arms tight around his brother. Suddenly Edmund felt hot tears he didn't notice before streaking down his cheeks, and he leaned into Peter's embrace, gulping as much air as he could muster through his sobs.
"Shhh...shhh..." Peter breathed in his ear.