Narnia:

When Children Cry

Part III

This chapter is based on the Battle of Beruna, mentioned briefly in Prince Caspian. It may be a little difficult to understand, especially if you don't know much about planning battle. There isn't much LucyTumnus, but it leads up to that. Review please!

DISCLAIMER: Don't own it. Don't even own this battle.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Riding to Uncertainty

From across Narnia, all had heard the plead of the war-horn. Warriors in their homes slapped on helmets and took up their swords without question or hesitation. The centaurs that had been called out for help earlier now quickened their pace to aid their King.

Presently, King Peter and Edmund saddled their great horses, followed by the war-generals and soldiers. From the woods surrounding the Cair, Talking Beasts and fauns and even a few Red Dwarfs leapt out from the dark trees. In a fluid movement, they all gained speed and raced forth to King Peter's call:

'We ride for the Fords of Beruna!'

In the castle stables, Lucy kicked the flanks of her stallion. He raced forward in a blur of strength and splendour, Lucy nearly a mirror image of it. As one, the stallion, Lucy, and Tumnus galloped onward to join the fleet of soldiers. It was lucky there were so many, for a two-rider horse would have certainly caught someone's eye. As it was, in the sea of faces, they were hardly conspicuous.

The Fords of Beruna was an ideal place for battle: the Great River took a very sharp bend, causing there to be a very acute angle running for miles westward. The enemy was attacking from the West – they'd be forced into the angle by the river, therefore allowing Narnia an advantage for better grounds. The enemy would be forced to retreat or forge the river, giving Narnia a higher ground. There was also a most convenient hill that led up to the River that would let Narnia see the enemy before they were even aware, and the archers would have a clear path because of it.

At full speed the army rode, the Northern wind whipping across their faces. Oh, the wind. Lovely as it felt, that would almost certainly cancel out their advantage of high archery grounds – all arrows would bear right.

Lucy, riding the stallion and almost the wind itself, was suddenly stopped in her intensity for battle. She frowned, then lifted her visor a little.

'Lucy, what are you doing?' hissed Tumnus.

'Sssh. I'm trying to smell,' she whispered. She lifted her nose into the air. Yes, the scent was present... a disquieting thought.

'Tumnus, wasn't it fair weathered this morning, and bright?'

'We're marching to battle and you're asking me about the weather!'

'Was it, or am I just imagining?' She held stubbornly in her question.

'Yes, it was,' he whispered, 'but I can't suppose how that's in any way relevant.'

'It smells like a storm,' she said. 'Can you smell it? The air reeks of it.'

'You can smell storms?'

'That isn't the point! Storms can't travel as fast as this one is.'

'How is that important?' Tumnus asked, but at once was stopped in his curiosity. He was so intent to the sight that he hardly noticed Lucy's perplexed murmur: 'It's coming from the West...'

'Lucy,' he whispered, 'I know you can't see it because of your visor, but... but there's really a storm-cloud coming our way.' Lucy swore under her breath. 'And it's moving... Lucy, it's perpendicular to the wind.'

'Impossible,' she whispered. 'That can't be, it's just –'

'Halt, men!' cried out a voice from the front of the formation. Edmund's. All of the soldiers slowed and finally stopped at the sound of his command, then arranged themselves: archers in the back and on the higher ground, cavalry directly in front, with weapons: spears and tipped lances frontal, followed by swords, daggers, then axes and halberds. (A halberd is somewhat of a combination of battle-axe and pike. Its oddly-shaped blade in fixed to the top of a six-foot wooden pole and carried preferably on horseback, though it's used by foot-soldiers as well.)

Kind Peter slowed his horse, then had the strong mare pace back-and-forth before the troops. 'Men,' he cried out to them, 'we've been brought into this war with no forewarning, no mercy, and hardly any warriors. This enemy that is unknown to us hasn't the chivalry to officially declare war upon Narnia, and it's only by chance that our Narnian honour has prevailed thus far.' He stood higher on his steed. 'We mightn't make it through this battle, but know this:

He spoke in a louder, more confident voice. 'Much may be lost, men, but we have hope – something that cannot be taken easily. When it's been stolen from us, we have our faith in Narnia and Aslan. When that is gone, we can do little else. But that will not happen!'

'My speech,' said Lucy to herself. 'My idea.'

'We have our land, our Narnia to defend! Fight, men, and –'

Peter was interrupted by Edmund, pointing up to the sky. 'Peter, look to the skies!' The High King frowned and shot his gaze heavenward, and witnessing a sight horrific beyond any.

A hoard of birds, mostly Narnian, sped out from behind a dark cloud, led by massive vultures. Behind them, the cloud was descending from the sky and pouring out onto the ground. The darkness of it smothered the sun in black. From the cloud bolted outward an army of evil: Black Dwarfs with their bows and heavy axes, Minotaurs bellowing obscenely, goblins of grey, warted skin, creatures hideous and resembling overgrown bats.

They flocked over land, poised for battle as the darkness unmasked a crash of thunder. The sun remained hidden as the skies opened, releasing a flooding, hard-hitting rain. A single white lighting streak stretched its legs down to the earth for less than a second, then retreated into the black heavens. The last warrior stepped down from the cloud, unseen by anyone but Tumnus on his perch far off: a woman clad in men's armour and a feather headdress. Not like Lucy, Lucy was honourable and pure. This lady, this abhorrent creature was hiding something he couldn't understand.

The Black Dwarf leading the army let out a dire war-cry as they charged forward.

The Battle of Beruna had commenced.