Day of the Dead 1: Sword and Shield

Early the next morning I stood before Oreius and Celer and Kanell in no sort of mood whatsoever for training. I think they knew it because mercy for their only student was in short supply and Oreius drove me as never before. I was distracted by the nightmare I'd had the day before at Kellsalter and I was sick with worry over Peter. There had been times in the past when I had known he was sick or hurt before being told and that same anxious feeling twisted in my gut right now. Had he drowned? Had he been captured by some strange water creatures? Was he even alive? And what of Phillip?

"Shield up!" bellowed Celer, striking me a glancing blow to the helmet. The Faun's brown eyes were fierce and angry.

I obeyed without a word, hefting the shield higher as I attacked with Shafelm. My moves were so exact Oreius frowned at my atypical behavior. I was incapable of concentrating even though we were battling with sharp steel, my actions were automatic and by rote. Of the two of us, Peter was straightforward and a very skilled fighter. I was the underhanded maverick.

"Hold!"

We stopped and stepped apart. Oreius trotted up and glared hard at me. Out here he didn't care if I was a king. "Sir Edmund," he snapped, "you are not focused. Clear your mind. This is no place for your troubles."

"Yes, General," I replied automatically, fighting the twinge of aggravation in my breast. My brother could be dead for all we knew and he was more worried about my bloody shield.

"Again!"

I kept my shield up as Celer came at me again, but my ire only grew. I could feel my indignation at their indifferent conduct smoldering. I understood what they were doing and why – they were trying to force me to harden my heart and function beyond my concerns. But hadn't I been doing that since the anniversary? What else did they want from me?

I shoved the Faun back, following the push with Shafelm's point. Celer blocked, and something about his expression roused the warrior in me. He was displeased by my distraction. I felt an odd calm settle upon me as I became completely detached from my own self. If he wanted my attention, he was going to get it. This was a dangerous state, one I had experienced before, and I welcomed it because right now it suited my desire to hit something.

Something in my expression made Celer hesitate and I think he guessed what had happened between one heartbeat and the next. He had pulled the lion's tail, as it were.

Oreius shifted, sensing the change.

I attacked.

I did not like using a shield in single combat. In a melee it was a different matter, but one-on-one I preferred two hands on my sword or a sword in each hand. I'm not sure why, but I found them cumbersome and more work than they were worth. Still, if it was in my hands it was a weapon and I showed Oreius exactly how well this lesson had been driven home by swinging the pointed bottom of the shield at the Faun's head right behind my sword. Startled, Celer stepped back as I'd planned and I loosened my hold on the shield as I followed the swing through, sliding my arm free of the double straps. I caught the shield's rounded edge and, reversing my momentum, swung it back at him and smashed aside his own shield and sword. Startled by the unorthodox move, Celer danced back and quickly recovered as my shield clattered to the ground. He gave me a startled look. He knew, just as I knew, I could have killed him ten times over.

I moved my left hand over to join my right on Shafelm's grip, never looking away from the Faun as I dropped into a fighting stance. They wanted me to concentrate? Well, there was nothing in the world but me, this sword, and my opponent right now.

I lunged, driving the point of my blade at Celer's head. He blocked to the side and I twirled around in a tight pivot, bringing the sword arcing down at him with far more force than he expected. I knocked his shield aside and darted in past his defenses, twisting my body and blade into him in an overhand motion before slapping my palm flat on his chest to let him know he was dead. Before he could protest I yanked his sword out of his hand and whirled to face the two Centaurs.

"One sword," Oreius ordered Kanell. The captain nodded and drew one huge sword as he charged me.

I was too lost in this fighting mind set to have the sense to be frightened. Kanell was about ten times my size and knew exactly what he had taught me. I was not Peter, who had once disarmed Celer before 'killing' him and then backed Oreius into a corner and made the general sweat. Dueling Celer I had a chance due to our relative size and build. Kanell just deliberately wore me out, burning off the anger that had gripped me. He used only his one sword against my two and kindly did not attack with more than I was capable of defending against.

I blocked and parried and tried to attack. I could see a gleam of pleasure in Kanell's dark eyes and I knew it was because Oreius was witness to the training he had given me and because for a while I managed to hold my own. Fatigue was starting to catch up with me and I was breathing hard and sweating in the cool morning air. I crossed the blades over my head, blocking his sword, then thrust them away to swing Shafelm around towards his mid-section. With remarkable speed, he blocked. I was concentrating on three swords so hard I missed his other hand and laid his open palm on my chest, right over the wound, stopping me cold. I was dead.

I stared at the huge, dark hand in surprise. This certainly wasn't the first time I had been declared dead here in this courtyard, but he had effectively snapped me out of this displaced state of rage.

Kanell smiled down at me. "Well fought, your majesty," was his quiet assessment before drawing back away.

I stood there in the middle of the courtyard gasping for air, drained and exhausted and wondering what I had done. Things seemed to come back into focus as my heart gradually slowed down and I could breath easily again. I slid Shafelm back into its sheath and handed Celer his own sword back, both of us a little sheepish. Then I picked up my shield and slid it over my arm again before I faced Oreius.

There was no telling by his expression what he thought about this outburst of mine, but I felt a twinge of shame that I had allowed my anger to rule me. Still, Oreius had indulged my little fit and let me wear myself to nothing. He must have recognized the demons inside me. I felt much better for it even if there was a line of throbbing pain going straight through my chest.

Oreius gestured and a Dwarf archer brought me a goblet of water. I drank it gratefully and handed the empty cup back with my thanks. Then I stood before the general waiting to be dismissed. The Centaur gave me a measured look, then slowly turned.

"Walk with me, Sir Edmund."

I had little choice but to fall in beside him and we passed the barracks and armory and into the fields beyond. Here was where the army drilled and Susan worked on her archery. Sometimes Oreius would bring me and Peter out here to train. There was a wide stream winding through the field and last winter, when the water had frozen over, he set us out on the ice in full armor to work on our balance. Peter and I still laughed about it.

We paused on a wooden footbridge over the stream, my armored boots as noisy as Oreius' horseshoes. I pulled off my helmet and pushed the mail cowl back, letting the cool morning breeze dry my damp hair as I studied our wavering reflections in the slow-moving water below.

"What happened?" asked Oreius.

I shook my head. "I'm not sure. Something...set me off."

"Do you understand why I made you fight?"

"Yes. My enemy doesn't care if I'm in the mood to pulverize him or not."

He smiled. "Precisely, so long as you do pulverize him."

"Well, if he catches me in a mood like today, he's pulp."

I didn't have to see his face to know he smiled faintly. I felt a large hand on my shoulder.

"You are sorely distracted, my king."

"I..." I had to talk. I needed to tell someone and my trust in the general was an absolute. I took a deep breath. "I...yes. The nightmare I had yesterday at Kellsalter...I'm not sure it was actually a dream."

Concern filled his eyes. "How so? What was the dream?"

"I was drowning. I could feel it. And then...I wasn't any more but I was still under water. I think...Oreius, I think something awful happened to Peter yesterday." There. I had said it aloud. It didn't sound quite so strange after all. Since entering Narnia, strange had been defined anew every day.

"You think your brother drowned?" he asked in a steady voice, voicing the worry I could not. I could tell his self control was being strained to the limit.

"I...I don't know. But I've felt in the past when something bad has happened to him and yesterday felt like that."

"Have you told this to Aslan?"

"No."

"Perhaps you should. It may be Aslan can set your mind at ease."

"I'll speak to him today. Immediately." The hand tightened on my shoulder and I leaned against the Centaur for a few moments of support. I considered the Centaur a friend, and I couldn't help but wonder if he minded my being so presumptuous. "Oreius, may I ask you something?"

"Ask, my king, and if I am able I will answer."

"You don't have to if you don't want to. I was just wondering...do you...like me?"

His surprise was almost comical, but he recovered swiftly and replied, "Yes, King Edmund, I like you very well indeed. You are generous and kind and clever and you are learning wisdom. I not only like you, but I love and respect you."

It was my turn to be surprised. Love and respect? Me?

"Why?" I whispered before I could stop myself. Peter I could see, because he was Peter. But me?

There was no hesitation in his reply. "The night I rescued you from the White Witch's camp, even before we had reached safety, you fell asleep in my arms. I was prepared to despise you. I could not understand how one such as the High King could be related to a traitor. And then I saw the abuses you endured and I came to understand the nature of your enchantment. But when you fell asleep in my arms, trusting a hostile stranger to keep you safe, I was undone and I was yours as surely as I was your brother's."

His words astonished me and I know my expression must have said as much. He smiled, and I believed he understood why I was asking, why I needed to hear this.

"Think upon this, King Edmund: there were many traitors to Narnia during the tyranny of the White Witch. Every Talking Animal that sided with her, every Dwarf and Satyr and even the Fell Creatures were traitors to Narnia and to Aslan. You and you alone have publicly acknowledged your failing and have tried to atone for your sins. Those are not the acts of a coward, nor yet the acts of one that does not care deeply for his land. And that is why I like you, for no matter how distasteful it may prove, you are a man of truth."

I gazed up at him, grateful for his words, and said simply, "Thank you."