A/N; Great googaly moogaly! I have ignored this story for FAR too long. My sincere apologies for the seeming lack of attention I've given this tale. So to any new readers, welcome, and to any old readers welcome back. I hope you enjoy and as always I look forward to your comments and critiques.

7.

Virtus

Though the winter snow drifts were piled high in the forests, the Narnian Army made good headway on their march. They were well versed in dealing with snow, the Long Winter still being a fresh memory for many of the troops. One of the many advantages to having Talking Animals make up a large portion of the army was that many of the larger species were able to cut paths through the snow to facilitate their smaller comrades. Their direction of travel also provided some assistance to the warriors. While a normal Narnian winter might include large snow squalls with snow banks piling high, in the lands south of Narnia the winters were not quite as hard. Warmer temperatures and less snow fell on these lands which aided the travel of the force that had set out from Cair Paravel.

Peter and Edmund were standing near their planning table with the Swordmasters as well as Jear and Jearin and several other top officers. Cyn's shrill cry alerted them all as he dove out of the sky.

"My Kings," he said as soon as he landed. "The scouts I sent to Anvard have returned. They bear dispatches from King Lune." The Gryphon looked at the leather satchel that was hanging from his side.

Jearin quickly bounded over to the Gryphon Captain and removed the satchel. He was grinning as he turned it over to the Kings. "Maybe now we'll have an idea of what to look for," he said.

"La," Peter said as he opened the case. "The more information we have the better." With that he pulled out several documents neatly stacked and bound by a red ribbon that held the Royal Seal of Archenland. Breaking the seal Peter began reading aloud the message he knew must have been written by King Lune personally.

"Lune, by gift of Aslan, by prescription, by tradition, and by blood, King of the Realm of Archenland, Lord of Anvard, to Peter, High King of Narnia and Lord of Cair Paravel and to Edmund, King of Narnia and Duke of Lantern Waste, greeting.

For to strengthen the bonds of friendship between Anvard and Cair Paravel and to aide in the noble quest to liberate Susan, Queen of Narnia, Lady of the Shuddering Wood and Lucy, Queen of Narnia, Duchess of the Dancing Lawn, along with the Ladies Saera and Marion with their daughters Helene, Sarai, and Rien, it is my great request that your Royal Persons shall accept all aide which can be sent in this time of strife. Wherefore we most heartily have sent these letters and navigations in order that this most noble quest shall meet with the most honorable of conclusions by providing for the safe passage through the Realm of Archenland and such lands that surround said lands by the gallant warriors of Narnia.

Save what defenders can be spared for to provide for the needs of protection and security of Castle Anvard, it is our pleasure and promise to sortie all available knights and men-at-arms whom do presently give good and loyal service to us in order to that said muster may be made available to your Royal Persons. Given at our lodging in Castle Anvard this XII day of the month January in the tenth year of Lune First of Archenland."

Beneath the missive were several detailed maps of Archenland as well as the lands immediate to that land. The maps were much more detailed than any that the Narnians had brought. At once they were spread out over the table.

"This chart seems to confirm our earlier notion of setting up a base camp in that mountain plateau," Celer said as he tapped a finger against the appropriate symbol on the map they had been studying.

Peridan added his insight. Having lived in Archenland for most of his life he was one of the most knowledgeable in regards to the area. "I agree my Kings. At our current march we should arrive in four days."

Peter simply continued to stare at the table as he rifled through more of the pages King Lune had sent. Edmund answered the advisors. "Very well. Celer," he said looking at the Faun. "Give the order for the Army to march on the plateau with all available speed. Send out advance scouts and have them report back daily until the main body of the Army reaches the camp."

"At once sire," Celer said. Pounding his right fist to his heart in salute he trotted off to carry out his orders.

"Sir Peridan, what is located in this forest?" Peter still had his eyes on the map as he asked the question.

The older knight peered at the symbol Peter was pointing to. "Sire, those forests lay outside the realm of Narnia or Archenland. Growing up we were told there may be some woodsmen that live there, but no embassy from Anvard was ever able to make contact."

"Flisk!" Peter called. "We're going for a ride!"

"Where to your Highness?" the Unicorn asked as he trotted up.

"To investigate these woodlands," he said before turning to Edmund. "Don't worry Ed, I'll take along a troop of the Royal Guard with me."

"But why are you going in the first place?" asked the younger King.

Edmund got his answer as soon as he looked into his brother's eyes. Ever since the news of their sister's capture had reached them, a dull cloud had hung over the Narnians. Queen Susan and Queen Lucy truly were the Jewel and Song of Narnia and with their capture that radiance had been lost. The spark that lit the eyes of the Narnian Court had seemingly vanished in the blizzard that had claimed their Queens and their friends. However as Edmund looked at his brother he saw the change in the older boys eyes. The hard fire of determination had been re-kindled and Edmund knew there would be no extinguishing that blaze.

"Call it a hunch," Peter said as he thumbed Rhindon's pommel. The High King then turned to Jaer. "Sir Jaer gather your supplies. You shall accompany me."

"At once Sire," replied the White Armor Knight.

"General Orieus, Captain Kanell assemble a troop and have them ready to march at once."

The two Centaurs also saluted before leaving to carry out their orders.


"Get down! There's more of them coming!"

Arrows zipped in the cold air as the woodsman shouted out to his family. Dark figures in black cloaks were their way through the trees towards the cottage he and his family lived in deep in an unnamed forest. He had been outside simply splitting wood when an arrow had imbedded itself into the woodpile next to him. Dodging arrows, the woodsman had scrambled for the safety of the cottage. Peering out of the windows he could see the figures moving through the trees.

Quickly he ducked out of sight again as more arrows sped in and shattered the window he had been peering out of. Glancing over his shoulder he saw his wife had tipped over the large bed he shared with his family and was holding their two small children tightly to her.

Crawling on his belly the woodsman retrieved his bow and quiver of arrows. Hands shaking with fright he nocked an arrow to the string and without looking pulled back on the bowstring and let the arrow fly out of the broken window.

"You're going to have to shoot straighter than that!" came a derisive voice from outside. Hoots of laughter were also clearly heard.

The woodsman tried to nock another arrow on his bowstring, but his shaking hands couldn't hold either shaft or string steady enough. Both bow and arrow were forgotten with the first loud crash against the door of the cottage. The figures outside were clearly attempting to break their way into the cottage. Abandoning the bow the woodsman leapt over the bed and fell over top of his family in last ditch effort to protect them.

Then the sound he had been dreading came. The door was broken off its hinges and the thudding of boots was heard even over the wails of his terrified children. In next to no time the woodsman and his family were forcibly and cruelly bound and dragged outside. It was only then that the woodsman finally got a good look at his attackers. Dark cloaks covered the men from head to toe. Each bore bow and a quiver of arrows along with a short sword strapped to their hip. All told there appeared to be ten in the attacking band. The woodsman and his family were made to kneel outside their cottage as the raiders ransacked their home. Two of the attackers kept the family at bay with both sword point and arrow.

"Nothing here of value," one of the raiders said as he emerged from the wrecked cottage.

One of the attackers had stood to the side and watched as his cohorts went about their business. It was obvious that he was the leader of the attacking band. Drawing his sword he used it to motion aside the two guarding the terrified family.

"You displease me," he drawled from behind his black mask. "Why would anyone choose to live this far out in the woods unless they were hiding something of supreme value?" he asked as he ran the tip of his sword along the side of the woodman's cheek. With a swift slice the sword cut through the rag gagging the woodsman leaving a deep scratch as well.

"P-p-please don't harm us!" the woodsman begged. "We have nothing! We've never harmed no one!"

"I don't believe you," came the cool reply as the raider inspected the drop of blood staining the tip of his sword. "I think you're lying. We have a way of dealing with liars. Stand them up."

The other nine raiders roughly grabbed the family and frog-marched them against the side of their cottage. The band of fiends then formed a line twenty paces from the family as nine of the raiders set shaft to string.

The raiders' leader again looked to the family as realization of their fate dawned on them. The children turned white fell silent from sheer fright. Their mother and father immediately placed themselves in front of the children.

"Last chance."

The woodsman was too terrified to speak.

"Hmmm, pity," the leader said in a cool and detached sort of way. Then the tone of his voice dropped and became hard and cold. "Draw!"

Nine bowstrings stretched back.

"Aim."

The woodsman steeled himself and closed his eyes.

"Loose."

Nine bowstrings twanged as they sent their lethal darts flying. The woodsman gasped as he heard the command and screwed his eyes shut tighter.

WHOOSH!

A sudden gust of wind blew over the woodsman's face. The expected impact of the arrows hadn't come. Instead he only heard surprised exclamations from the raiders.

Opening his eyes the woodsman saw the raiders looking around in shock. Their nine bowstrings were empty, yet the darts that had been shot from those bows had seemingly disappeared into thin air. As he watched the raiders looking around in shock and confusion, above him the woodsman heard what he thought was an eagle cry above the trees.

Then a new sound reached the ears of those standing around the wrecked homestead. A deep rumbling that sounded much like thunder. It appeared to be coming from the slight ridge that the raiders had used to mask their approach on the cottage. As one the ten raiders turned to look at where the new noise was coming from. What they saw put a chill in their bones.

A troop of twenty soldiers in red and silver livery had appeared on the ridge. At the center of the formation seated atop a snow white Unicorn was what looked to be a Boy of no more than fifteen dressed in shining plates of steel. Next to him on a brown mount was another boy garbed in mail with a white tabard. On either side of the Boys were two huge Centaurs. Flanking these four were a variety of Fauns, Dwarves, and other Animals, including a Gryphon who held nine arrows in one of its talons.

The Boy on the Unicorn drew a sword of terrible beauty from the scabbard at his side and pointed it directly at the raiders. "You nine vagabonds have set upon this family unjustly and without defiance sent and with the intent of causing lethal injury upon them for want of thievery upon their hard worked goods. I defy you to answer these charges at once."

The raiders' leader could feel his heart pounding in his chest in shock at seeing the noble troop arrayed before him. Still he couldn't keep the sneer from his voice as his answered. "Who are you to defy anything boy?"

The answer he received rang with courage. "I am Peter, High King of Narnia, Wolfsbane Knight of the Order of the Lion. You and your ilk are subject to arrest and trial for crimes committed in our presence. Lay down your arms and place yourselves face down upon the ground."

"You have no authority here boy!" The man sneered. "We are well outside the borders of your or any king's realm. The only law is the law of the sword. 'He who has the largest sword rules.'"

"Very well," Peter said in response in an almost pleased tone of voice. "'Tis the Law of the Sword." He turned to the Centaur on his flank. "General, inform them who wrote that Law."

The normally dour looking Centaur cracked a grin as he sheathed the two swords he had drawn. Reaching to his side the General drew his claymore. It was the symbol of his rank as General of the Army and the largest sword wielded by any in Narnia. Orieus stepped forward holding the massive blade easily. The sight of the huge weapon did as much as Orieus knew it would. He could clearly see the eyes of the raiders growing wide in fear as he advanced upon them. A blade that can fell a Minotaur in single blow generally has that impression. Orieus' blade sang in the cool air as the Centaur began to swing it in a complex series of circles, sweeps, and other sword trickery. All the while he continued to advance slowly on the ten raiders. When he was only twenty paces from them he snapped the claymore up to a ready position and with a bellow broke out into a gallop straight the line of raiders.

"NARNIAAAA!"

The raiders as one dropped their weapons and turned from the sight of the charging General. They only got three paces when their advance was halted by a troop of twenty new Narnian soldiers that had silently snuck up behind them. The second troop held swords, spears, and with deadly purpose as they blocked the escape of the raiders. Turning to run the other way the raiders were only confronted by the onrush of Orieus as well as the charge of the first troop of Narnians. In next to no time the ten raiders were completely surrounded by forty fully armed Narnians all with naked steel or claw bared at them. The raiders' courage left them at once and they dropped their weapons and put up their arms.

"Sir Jaer parole the prisoners and bring them back to camp." Peter said as his dismounted from Flisk. "Captain Kanell make safe the cottage. General with me please."

Peter raised the visor on his helmet and removed it, pulling off the arming cap he wore under it. Sheathing Rhindon Peter drew his Blue River knife and approached the woodsman and his family. "Be at peace, we're friends," he said as his keen knife released them of their bonds.

The woodsman fell at Peter's feet in relief and thanks. "Oh thank you milord. Thank you, thank you, thank you."

"Rise good sir and pray introduce me to your good self and fine family," Peter said as he extended a hand to the man.

"Horus my name be milord," said the woodsman. "This be me wife Elsa, me son Horic and me daughter Elfa."

"My pleasure to meet you all," Peter said.

From behind his mothers dress little Horic poked his head. "Be you really from Narnia?" he asked.

Peter kneeled on the ground to face the little boy on eye level. With a friendly smile on his face he answered the boy. "La, little one. We are."

"I heard that a Witch ruled Narnia and turned everyone to stone there," Horic said.

"Horic! That's no way to treat guests so noble as these," Elsa reprimanded her son sharply.

"'Tis quite alright good lady," Peter told her. Looking back to Horic who had emerged from behind his mother's dress Peter went on. "Narnia was indeed ruled by an evil Witch, but by Aslan's will and by the valor of many her power was overthrown and now I rule from Cair Paravel with my brother King Edmund and sisters Queens Susan and Lucy."

"Narnia be a fair march north of here your majesty," Horus said. "What business have you hear?"

"Sadly our Queens and several of our friends have been captured by fiendish rouges. We quest to their rescue," Peter said as he stood up again.

"Rouges you say. Perhaps it was by the same band that you just defeated," Elsa put in.

"It is possible, but we shall not know until we question our prisoners."

"All is well sire," Kanell said as he came trotting up. "There is no evidence of any further raiders."

"Very well. Kanell set a guard at for our new friends until such time as their cottage is repaired from the damages incurred."

Horus was quite shocked at the command. "You don't need to do that Highness," he said.

"'Tis only just good my man. Your cottage has suffered grave damage and it would hard for you to repair such damages by yourself. Fear not that my Guard shall impose unjustly of you."

"Thank you milord," Horus said with a bow.

"Virtus."

The word was spoken softly but clearly. Elfa had also emerged from behind her mother's dress and had quietly walked over to where Orieus stood. The General had not sheathed his claymore, instead placing it point down in the ground in front of him.

Elfa reached up and with a lock of her hair wiped a speck of dirt off the blade and repeated herself. "Virtus." With that she then took off and dashed inside the cottage.

The small party looked in wonder at the stunned face of Orieus. The Centaur had removed his blade from the ground and was staring at where Elfa had touched the massive sword.

"Orieus has your blade ever been named?" Kanell asked his friend.

"Nay," Orieus said in response.

"I think it just was," Peter said with a smile.