The Boy King

Oreius' confidence in me got its first test not a week later with the arrival of an ambassador from Somm, a small island in the Eastern Sea that was a dukedom attached to Archenland much like Galma was to Narnia. It was Firstday, so after a morning battling generals and captains on the training ground I had spent the better part of the day learning about flanking maneuvers. There was a great deal about the lessons that appealed to me, mostly the fact that I understood and could apply what I had learned. I was beginning to see what Oreius had meant when he said diplomacy was a civilized form of warfare, and I completely revised my opinion of Susan's fighting ability.

The ambassador was representing a guild of Somm merchants who wanted to establish trade rights with Narnia. They dealt in fabrics and spices and other exotics from Calormen and they were eager for the wood and metal and produce Narnia had in such abundance. Mr. Tumnus, acting as chamberlain, gave us a brief summary of their proposal and a quick history of the ambassador's credentials before we met him in the throne room. I was careful to watch the Faun's expression as he spoke because Peter had once said a great deal could be learned about a person by Tumnus' reaction to them. If I read him aright, the good Faun was not overly impressed with Somm's ambassador.

It turned out Mr. Tumnus and I were on the same page, for I disliked the man from the start. I thought Lord Melier was rather young for his station (though I was hardly one to talk) and there was an arrogance about him he did not merit. Oreius was allowed to be arrogant if he chose, for he had earned the right. This smarmy merchant in gaudy clothes had no such claims to greatness. I knew from his first words that he saw us as mere children and clearly thought he could lead us about. He had unwittingly fallen into the trap we set by merely being ourselves: he underestimated us.

Melier and his party bowed low and his eyes swept across us all, lingering on Susan in a way I didn't appreciate and sweeping over Lucy and dismissing her completely. He stared at Peter's empty throne and looked at me only when he felt the weight of my stare upon him. He met my eye and smiled in what he clearly thought was a charming manner. I suppose no one had ever told him he was a cretin, but given the chance and so many words, I'd happily enlighten him.

"Aslan's blessing upon your majesties," he said, clearly unaware that said Lion was presently meeting with the head of Parliament in the library. Aslan had confidence that we could run Narnia and so let us continue without interfering unless asked.

"And upon you and your embassage," Susan replied. "Welcome to Narnia, Lord Melier. We look forward to our dealings with you and trust that we may come to an accord over trade."

"That is my wish as well, gentle queen. Will your brother not be joining us?"

"My brother is right here, sir," Susan replied, cocking an eyebrow at him. By the cant of her head I could see she was as annoyed as I. Lucy, I was sure, was give him her closest equivalent of a pouting glare.

Again that oily smile, as if he were indulging children. "My apologies," he said smoothly. "I was merely curious as to the High King's contributions to our negotiations."

That was the last straw. Peter wouldn't tolerate this conduct and neither would I. A deep and useful anger welled up in my chest.

"Who are you, sir?" I asked sharply before Susan could reply.

Confused, Melier gave the answer he thought I wanted to hear. "King Edmund, I am Lord Melier of Somm, representing the Merchant's Guild of Keln." He gave another little bow. I knew he must have thought I was something of an idiot. It was time to relieve him of those notions and remind him of his place.

"I know what you are," I said, "I asked who you are. For who are you that the king and queens of Narnia do not suffice to negotiate a trade agreement to your satisfaction? Who are you to question our authority in our own dominion? Think you that we somehow lack the ability to run and defend our country in the absence of our royal brother?" I stared at him, waiting for an answer, amazed at myself for not tripping over my own tongue. Beyond him his fellow representatives looked shocked and ashamed and ready to lynch Melier for putting his foot in it so deeply. I held his eye steadily, forcing myself not to glare. Peter would have been more subtle, I was sure, but at least I got it over with quicker.

Melier swallowed and bowed again. "No offense was intended, King Edmund."

But offense was taken and everyone knew it even if we were too polite to say as much. My reply was a slow and non-committal, "Indeed." I decided to end this interview to allow his party time to draw and quarter him in private. "You have traveled far and are weary," I informed him, and he was wise enough not to dispute the fact. "You'll be given quarters and we can meet tomorrow at this time. Until then, Lord Melier."

They were escorted out of our presence by some highly amused Satyrs. That first meeting set the pace for the rest of our royal duties. No one cared to cross us after seeing Melier's hasty retreat and everything was completed with such dispatch that we found ourselves with an hour of freedom before tea.

"Let's go for a walk," invited Susan. Her tone informed Lucy and me we had no choice in the matter. When we were outside in the gardens she smiled upon me and laughed. "Well done, Ed. He needed that and so did I."

I snorted. "A boot to his seat is what that prat needs.'The High King's contributions.' Huh. Why doesn't anybody warn these blooming idiots that we're not nearly as dense as they are?"

"That's half the fun, Ed," Susan chuckled. "I think by tomorrow he'll be singing a new song."

Tomorrow. She spoke the word so casually, but for me it meant losing yet another round to Jadis.

She was quite right, as it turned out. The next day Melier was a changed man with a whole new appreciation for Narnia's monarchs. I gave it a little thought and decided that Peter would have acted as if the initial meeting had never occurred, and so that's exactly how I conducted myself. Melier, whose party took a more active role at the following meeting, did not squander this second chance and over the course of several days a very satisfactory trade agreement was hammered out.

I supposed I owed Melier some sort of thanks for giving me a chance to sharpen my claws and showing me that I really could command the same respect Peter did. I had a great deal to mull over and sitting in my room, waiting for midnight, I began to think, seriously think, about what kingship truly meant. It was probably overdue, but up until now the necessity hadn't been staring me in the face.

High King Peter and Peter Pevensie were two different people with a great deal in common. Peter my brother was understanding and affectionate and smart and the best person I knew. High King Peter was all those things and more, far more, for there was a certainty about him I had never detected in anyone else. He didn't simple have the title of High King; he was the High King as surely as if he had come into his own. As he moved through Cair Paravel he had an assurance and dignity that was as natural to him as breathing. I had watched some of the Swans move across the pools in the palace gardens with the same commanding confidence that my brother possessed as he took his throne. The crown was his as surely as the water belonged to the Swans. There was no question about it. The rest of us were acquiring our skills, but as far as I could tell, now that I no longer saw him with resentful eyes, Peter had come into the world this way. In England, I mean, before we stumbled through the wardrobe. He had always been a leader and protector and he placed the whole world before himself. Yet somehow, at the same time, I also saw my brother. He wasn't flawless. He was mischievous and occasionally a complete idiot, sometimes overbearing, and prone to bossiness until confronted, but his flaws (unlike mine) were more endearing than exasperating.

With this sterling example in mind (though I sorely wished it was before me right then) I began to understand why Peter worried and pushed himself so hard. This was no light undertaking Aslan had gifted us with and I realized why my older siblings were so often serious and thoughtful. As I contemplated the roles of kings and queens I realized that for all the fine trappings and ceremonies, we were the ultimate servants to our country. Narnians might serve us, but we served Narnia. Peter had understood that from the start. Susan was learning it. And now I finally realized what I needed to do.

I needed to be a king. Not just act like one, but to be one. And it wasn't just for me or Narnia, but for Peter. He needed me, and he had been telling me that since the Battle of Beruna, but up until now I hadn't realized he needed me to be able to think and act and reign independent of him and the girls.

I remembered how pleased he had been when I returned from the Blue River Smithy with the good will and friendship of the Black Dwarfs. It had not been a simple task, but knowing that we needed their skill and support, I would have done anything necessary to gain it. I had earned more than their regard - I had their respect. I hadn't quite realized it at the time, but all my efforts and sweat and barbed words had been a negotiation process that had resulted in benefits for all parties concerned. I had done that. And now, with Melier, I had managed something similar. Using words and actions, I had changed things for the better. Not only for me and my family, but I had changed things for Narnia.

My brother had always said I was the clever one. I never should have doubted his word. Apparently I was just slow to catch on. What had probably taken Peter five minutes to figure out had taken me a year.

I say, Ed, well done, Peter's faintly sarcastic and amused voice echoed in my head, and I scowled exactly as I would have had he been here. It felt good.

Peter was the leader, but he depended on us - me in particular - to be his eyes and ears. Perhaps, too, I could learn to be the voice of compromise. Peter called me his balance. Perhaps that was my calling, to find common ground and build bridges. I knew evil and injustice and what it felt like to be helpless. I also knew the relief of seeing justice served.

The thought struck me so profoundly I sank down onto Peter's bed, my mind awhirl.

King Edmund the Just.

I was King Edmund the Just, and I finally understood what that meant.

If Peter was Narnia's Sword, I would be her Shield.

I didn't hear the knock, but I looked up as Silvo threw open the doors for Aslan to enter. I raised my head from my hands, staring at the huge Lion, so preoccupied by this epiphany that I was unafraid of midnight for the first time since the anniversary.

"Aslan," I exclaimed, barely recognizing my own voice, "I need to become a judge."

If he was surprised, he was also very pleased. He smiled and nodded his head thoughtfully, his deep voice filling me with confidence as he said, "Yes, you do."