Chapter 16 Treachery
The clang of sword meeting sword, the smell of sweat and blood, the sight of two kings, one a man of middle age, the other a boy not past seventeen, and the rising uncertainty all mixed together and created an anxiety Edmund or Ron hadn't felt since their first real battle, the battle between Narnia and the White Witch.
"Caspian," Ron whispered, "you never said how good your uncle was with a sword."
"I didn't know," was all Caspian could manage.
Looking toward the King of Narnia, Ron noticed his rigid stance.
"I never said your uncle was better than Peter. No one is as good a Peter."
Caspian gave a weak grin, flinching as Miraz's sword came crashing down on Peter's shield. He heard Peter give a small cry before attacking.
It had been going on for a minute, maybe a little longer, but already the two kings were tired, their desperation the only thing driving them forward.
Peter shoved Miraz sideways, trying to unarm the king of Telmar, but Miraz was too strong and too clever. No sooner had Peter lunged than Miraz twisted around with reflexes as fast as light and ducked Peter's shield. Peter tried to spin around to face Miraz in time, but before he'd gone halfway, Miraz brought his sword down on Peter's back, forcing the High King of Narnia on the ground.
With a loud war cry, Peter rolled away from Miraz and jumped back on his feet, thankful Edmund had made him wear dwarf-made armor. His shield arm was killing him, his back hurt, and his head was making things spin slightly. Over all, Peter felt horrible, but not enough so to give up. He would die before he saw Narnia taken away by a man as crazed as a rabid dog.
"Focus!"
Peter heard Edmund's order not a moment too soon. His eyes caught a glint of something coming towards him and he jumped backward. Miraz was right on top of him, and before a second had passed, the two were fighting methodically, Miraz taking a blow then giving a blow.
Peter was glad how much he'd practiced with the sword against not just Edmund, but Ron and Caspian as well, trying to remember his winning tactics that won him Narnia and her territories.
Peter's moves complicated and started quickening, finally advancing on Miraz and forcing him back towards his generals. Miraz tried to block each blow but had no room to give one. Just before Peter was able to free the sword from the man's hand, Miraz moved closer to Peter, letting Peter's blow land on the side of his shoulder instead.
Then, with a mighty yell, Miraz grabbed Peter's armor and pushed him downwards. As Peter hit the ground with a crash, Miraz prepared for the kill and drove his sword to the boy king of Narnia.
But Peter was ready, and as the sword neared, Peter sat up and grabbed Miraz's arm and pulled himself up, pushing Miraz away at the same time. Evidently, that startled Miraz, who just stood there dumbly, but before Peter's next blow could connect, Miraz got back his senses and ducked, aiming a powerful blow to Peter's right leg. Peter stumbled backwards, his face grimacing in pain.
Before Peter could put up his shield, Miraz dealt a blow to Peter's right side by his chest. As the force drew Peter back to the ground, Miraz advanced, raising his sword high above his head. But before he was finished raising his sword, Peter's legs tripped the Telmarine who quickly fell to the floor, only a few feet away from the High King.
"Peter rolled to his stomach and got up on one knee. Suddenly he was aware of shouting, much like a crowd shouting at a professional game. They must have been cheering the entire time, he thought. He heard the Telmarines shouting encouragement to their king and insults at their enemy. The Narnians were doing much the same, only their jeers were less and their encouragement more.
As Peter rose to his feet, he saw Miraz, still on the ground but now on his stomach. Peter waited for the Telmarine to get to his feet. Although he wanted to end the fight, to win Narnia, and hail Caspian the King of Narnia, he knew Aslan would want nothing less than a fair fight.
"Peter! I said show no mercy!" he heard Edmund yell. "You dolt, get ready!"
As Edmund yelled this, Miraz was finally getting to his feet, his face screwed in a tight scowl and his eyes dark with hate. Peter eyed the man, taking in as much as he could. Miraz was tired, weakening, but he was still strong and dangerous. He was breathing heavy, but not winded yet.
The two circled each other warily, watching for an opportunity to strike first. When the opportunity came, they both attacked at the same time, their swords clashing and their shields protecting. Then Miraz's sword swung low, causing Peter to jump backward. As Peter landed on his feet, Miraz swung his sword again at Peter's head.
Peter easily blocked it with his own sword, then used his shield as a weapon, knocking it against Miraz's helmet and forcing the dazed man back. This time, Peter didn't wait for him to recover. He attacked, but soon Miraz recovered and tried to use his own shield as a weapon. But Peter saw it coming before it happened and was prepared. With all his strength, Peter ran into Miraz, letting the shield connect with his shoulder and making Miraz's sword slice thin air.
With a cry, both kings fell to the ground, Peter on top of Miraz, but no sooner had they reached the ground than Miraz rolled on top of Peter, his knee keeping Peter's shield pinned to the ground.
"Peter!"
He didn't know who had yelled his name, but Peter wasn't about to give in, not with the sound of his Narnians yelling for their High King. Peter blocked several blows, his shield still pinned down, and then, unexpectedly, Peter's sword nicked Miraz's armpit where the armor didn't protect.
As Miraz fell off of Peter, clutching the underside of his arm, Narnia cheered so loud it drowned out the Telmarines completely. But soon the Telmarines cheered just as loud as Miraz's shield came down on Peter's and the fight continued.
No one was sure what exactly happened, not even Peter or Miraz, but as they fought, they both pushed each other away with such force they nearly tumbled backwards. They both managed to stay on their feet, but it was obvious neither could breathe well.
"Rest," asked Peter, loud enough for Miraz alone to hear.
Miraz glared at the boy, but he nodded his head and both kings limped back to their generals.
"What happened?" asked Rumpletin, sucking his paw again.
"First rest," glared Glenstorm.
As the centaur cheered loudly, the bear followed suite, and then all of Narnia cheered.
Peter sat down heavily on a chair beside Edmund and Ron.
"That was some fight," Edmund smiled, helping Peter get his shield off.
"Yeah. He's strong as a mule, and just as heavy," Peter panted.
"How bad is your arm?" Edmund asked once he got the shield off.
"It hurts. I can move it a little, but when he pinned down my shield he sprained my arm. He'd already hurt it a minute in."
"Drink this." Ron handed a silver cup to Peter.
After two minutes, Peter stood up, trying to work out some of the kinks in his bones.
"Smile," Ron reminded. "Narnia is watching."
Peter turned around to face his soldiers and smiled big, raising his sword above his head. As a cheer broke out, Peter turned back to face his brother, Ron, and Caspian.
"I don't know if I can do this," he admitted softly.
"Of course you can, Pete," his brother answered. "You're doing just fine. Keep him on his feet. Make him dance. Wear him out. He'll be winded soon enough."
"Ed," Peter began, "you're my only brother, and I suppose I can be rather hard on you. I'm sorry."
"Save it," Edmund chuckled. "I'll tie your shield on."
"What happens there, if you die here?" Peter continued softly. "If I don't make it,"
But Edmund didn't listen and tied Peter's shield on tight, cutting Peter off.
"I said save it," Edmund whispered. "Now go out there and save Narnia. As long as Aslan is for us, no Telmarine can stand in our way."
"Easy for you to say," Peter grumbled. "You're not fighting him."
"Oh, get a move on!" Ron ordered. "Miraz is already heading back."
Nodding, Peter entered the square again and walked to Miraz.
As both kings met, another hush fell over the crowd.
Ron sucked in a breath.
"Welcome to round two."
( )
"Draco," Harry yelled as he, Pansy, and Draco ran through the forest. "You're acting like Ron or Hermione!"
"It's not like you to run through a forest!" Pansy agreed. "You're mental, Draco. Mental!"
"We're almost there," Draco panted, a smile on his face. "The Bridge of Beruna isn't far now."
"How do you know the crown is there?" Pansy asked again.
"The witch had a thought, a feeling as I stabbed her. She, in a way, told me where she died, and then, somehow I just knew where the crown was. It's by that bridge…"
"We haven't been to that bridge," Pansy shouted. "I've never seen that bridge, Draco. And neither have you!"
"The witch, she knows."
"You killed the bastard!"
"I know it doesn't make sense," Draco yelled back. "Just trust me!"
"You're not Lucy!"
"No, I'm a Malfoy!"
"That's reassuring," Harry muttered. "Let's trust a Death Eater. Sounds like fun. The bloody idiot will get us killed!"
It didn't take long before the three were standing by a river, the River Rush.
"Here's a familiar sight," Pansy said sarcastically.
"It's the Rush," Draco laughed.
"Are you sure you're Draco?" Harry asked skeptically.
"Potter, you're so rude."
Draco looked across the river. It looked quiet and still.
"Isn't there supposed to be a bridge?" Pansy inquired, crossing her arms.
"There was," Draco said, pointing to the ground near the water. "It was torn down, and recently by the looks of things."
"And where is this crown?"
"On the other side," Draco said, wading into the water.
When the three climbed up the other side, Draco sat down, musing over a large footprint.
"That is a huge print," Harry laughed. "Wonder what made it."
"Aslan did, of course."
Pansy and Harry stared at their fellow Knight of Narnia.
"Should I ask how you know that?" Pansy sighed.
Ignoring her, Draco stood up and looked around.
"Aslan's prints lead that way," he said, pointing a few yards downstream.
Draco followed them, careful not to step or smudge any of Aslan's prints. Pansy and Harry watched closely as he walked a few yards away, his eyes peeled to the ground.
"You guys," Draco called out softly. "The tracks disappear. It's as if Aslan just apparated."
"Can He do that?" Harry asked.
"Of course He can!" Pansy answered; shocked that Harry would ask such a stupid question. She never once thought of him as a clever wizard, but his stupidity even surpassed that of Dumbledore at the moment.
"Aslan wants us to find it," Draco drawled slowly. "But where exactly did that wolf burry it? Where is He leading us?"
Pansy sighed in frustration and Harry sat down gloomily next to her.
"I'm acting like a Gryffindor!" Draco yelled suddenly.
"Finally the Draco I know is back," Pansy frowned, still irritated.
"Searching for a lost crown, following a lion's prints. I'm being so stupid."
"You still are," Pansy pointed out.
"I don't have to look for the crown! I don't have to follow footprints! I know where it is!"
"He isn't back," grumbled Harry.
"Draco Malfoy!" Pansy shouted. "Stop acting like some, some, Muggle! You're freaking me out!"
"We need shovels," Draco said breathlessly, ignoring Pansy and Harry.
"And where are we going to find shovels?" Harry asked dryly.
Draco grinned as he looked towards a town that lay a small ways from them. "That looks like a good place to start."
( )
"That has to hurt," Ron grimaced.
Peter had just been hit in the face my Miraz's elbow. As Peter slightly turned around he had blood running down his cheek and lips from his nose.
"Oh yeah," Edmund laughed half heartedly, "that hurt him all right."
The first part of the single combat had been spent feeling each other, find out their strengths and weaknesses. Now was a different story. Miraz was careful with Peter. He knew by now how good Peter was, and at times, it showed upon his face. He would not underestimate the High King of Narnia again. Peter, on the other hand, knew better than to challenge Miraz in strength. Miraz was too strong for Peter to outmatch him that way. But Peter was more nimble on his feet and a little faster. There was still hope for Narnia as long as Peter kept Miraz moving.
"I thought it was a fight, boy!" shouted some of the Telmar army. "We want a fight, not a dance!"
"He better not listen to them," Caspian said.
"Not Peter," Edmund replied. "He knows when to ignore things like that. He knows what his prize is and no one can take his eyes off it."
"Miraz is the prize?" Ron asked, stepping into Caspian on accident while Peter took another blow, this time to his chest with Miraz's shield.
"How did you become a knight?" Edmund teased, rolling his eyes, but his face was turning paler and paler as the fight became more vigorous and intense.
Peter and Miraz clashed again, their swords stuck together, each one trying to push the other down. For a moment it looked as if Miraz was winning, but then, out of nowhere, Peter used his body to force the king backwards.
Miraz stumbled a few steps and that was all Peter needed. He ran to the Telmar king and shoved him with all his might. As the king, again, stumbled backwards, he swung his sword wildly, his shield at his side.
Peter used his own shield to disarm Miraz, but Miraz's shield hit Peter in the arm then chest. Peter stumbled backwards this time and Miraz used the same trick to disarm Peter.
The two armies were yelling and jeering louder than ever. Miraz's two generals were watching the battle intently, but no fear showed on their face. In fact, they seemed to enjoy how the battle was going. Caspian, Edmund, and Ron, however, were paling and huddling together as manly as they could.
"Now what?" Ron whispered.
Peter and Miraz were circling each other, keeping an eye on both swords. Then, at the same time, they both went for their swords, and with a cry, both kings crashed their swords together. Soon they were in the heat of battle, their swords going faster than their eyes could follow. They were relying solely on instinct.
Everything was becoming a blur. Faster and faster they moved, harder and harder they bore into each other, quicker and quicker their blades went. Now Peter was again moving around the circle, forcing Miraz to chase him.
Again, they were caught in heavy combat, their swords with a will of their own. And then, so suddenly that both sides gasped, Miraz took a step away from Peter and let his sword fly towards Peter's chest. Peter ducked just as the blade passed his head.
Miraz now used his shield to knock Peter over, but Peter rolled to the ground and in the same movement, he rolled himself back to a crouched position, waiting for Miraz to follow through with his attack.
Miraz did not disappoint. He charged Peter, his sword flying up to meet Peter's, but Peter was more than ready. He thrust his sword high in the air and brought it down on Miraz's own sword. At the same time, Peter used his shield to hit Miraz on his sword arm, then again on the side of Miraz's head.
Miraz came down to the ground hard, Peter standing over him.
But Miraz wasn't done yet. With one last effort, he brought his sword upward toward Peter, but Peter slammed his shield into Miraz's hand. With wide eyes, Miraz along with both armies, watched as Miraz's sword sailed into the air, then landed with a clang by the end of the square.
"On your knees," Peter commanded quietly.
Miraz obeyed, his face looking up at the boy who had bested him.
"Do it, and spare me the humility."
Peter paused.
"Do it!" Edmund shouted.
"Do all Narnians fear blood, or just their kings?" Miraz sneered, realizing that Peter wasn't ending his life.
Peter raised his sword to a killing position.
"No Narnian fears blood, just injustice. I cannot take you life, for it is not mine to take."
Peter lowered his sword and turned his back on Miraz. He walked to where his brother, Ron, and Caspian stood.
"Watch out!" Ron yelled.
Peter spun back to face Miraz, his sword ready. As Miraz lunged at his competitor, Peter's sword drove into his belly. Miraz's eyes widened and fell instantly to his knees.
As Peter withdrew his sword, Miraz gaped at the young king.
"King Caspian," Peter said firmly. "This is your decision and your decision alone."
Peter handed Caspian his sword, the very sword Aslan had given Peter centuries ago.
Caspian took it, his eyes wide. He looked at his uncle.
"You are not a king," Miraz spat. "You're scared. I see it in your eyes."
As Caspian walked over to his uncle, his face turned from fear and surprise to anger and justice. He stopped in front of Miraz and raised Peter's sword.
"Maybe I was wrong," Miraz spoke softly, fear running through him.
"You were wrong," Caspian replied. "You were wrong to kill my father. You were wrong to take over Telmar. And you were wrong about me. I am a king."
With that, Caspian drove his sword downward. But to the surprise of all, especially to Miraz, the sword missed the defeated king and instead landed an inch away from Miraz's head.
Caspian grinned, "I'm a King of Narnia."
Caspian stepped back and then turned to his people.
Never had Narnians cheered so loud. Never had they felt such hope and pride. Never had they seen such justice and honor shown. Not since the Golden Age.
"King Caspian! Long live the king. Long live King Caspian!" the Narnians yelled.
Caspian saw a grim grin on Peter's face. As Peter nodded, Caspian knew he'd done the right thing. A king of Telmar would have honorably taken the life. However, he was king of Narnia. And a King of Narnia would honorably let that life live.
"That has shown all of Narnia what kind of king you are," Peter said, putting a hand on Caspian's shoulder. "I'm proud to have you alongside me even more.
Both kings smiled at each other, but their celebration was soon halted as Miraz fell to the ground, a Narnian arrow sticking out of his back.
Peter's face fell and Caspian spun around, his heart pounding.
"No," he gasped.
"Treachery!" yelled one of Miraz's generals, waving his sword in the air. "Narnia has done treachery! To arms and to revenge!"
"Narnians!" Peter shouted, reacting instead of thinking. "To arms! Treachery has been done!"
The generals and kings pulled out their swords, Ron following a moment late, still shocked at what was going on.
"To war!" cried the Telmarines.
"To war!" cried the Narnians.
"For Narnia!" shouted Peter, "and for Aslan!"
Then both armies charged.
Where is the crown? What happened to Miraz? Will Narnia fall to Telmar? Find out in chapter 17.
Courtesy of both C. S. Lewis and JKR