Chapter Twelve: The Sound of Battle

Peter

Peter stood on one of the castle's balconies looking down at where his son was toddling about in the courtyard. Peter watched the boy cling to his stuffed rabbit and giggle as his nurse chased him across the courtyard.

"This is my son," Peter said to himself, under his breath. Still, saying it did not make it seem any more real. He could not associate this bashful toddler with the babe he had held in his arms after his wife's death. Jonathan did not act like his son any more than Peter acted like the boy's father. They were nearly strangers to one another.

Peter looked over the courtyard wall to get a glimpse of the sea beyond. Usually, he would be looking to the sea to admire its beauty or perhaps to catch one of Narnia's ships sailing by, her Lion's banner flapping proudly in the wind. Today, Peter searched for Terebinthians. He counted seven ships today, though he knew that there were more just out of his sight, beyond the horizon and further down the coast. Torim tried to keep the bulk of his strength out of sight, to keep Peter always guessing at how many ships stood poised to attack Narnia. Torim's strength at sea was greater than Narnia's, Peter knew, though half of his force were pirates.. Peter's own forces were loyal, but they knew less of the sea than the islanders who had been raised to it.

Torim had thought that it would be easy to take Cair Paravel, but Peter knew that once the Terebinthian took to land that he, not Torim, would have the advantage. Torim knew this as well, though of course he was not willing to admit it. Torim wanted Susan and his children and it had wounded his pride terribly when she had run away. To him, the solution was simple; Susan was his wife and Peter should hand her over. But Peter could never force his sister to live in a place and with a man that made her so unhappy. Susan, however, had a gentle spirit and she couldn't stand to think that all this fuss and the threat of war was on account of her. She had wanted to go back with him, but Peter had forbidden it.

Peter heard a female sniffle beside him. He looked over to see a young woman, her face mostly covered by a veil looking out in the same direction as he. Peter realized that she was one of the women that Susan had brought back with her from Terebinthia.

"My lady?" Peter felt it his duty to say, for she seemed to be crying. "Are you well? Does the sight of the ships trouble you?"

She wiped the tears from under her eyes quickly. "Oh, no," she said, "it isn't that."

Peter noticed that she was not looking out at the sea, but down at the courtyard. She was watching his son in the same way that he had been doing earlier.

"He looks so much like my little boy, Your Majesty," she said huskily, after a moment.

"You have a little boy, my lady?" Peter asked hesitantly, sensing her sorrow.

"I left him in Terebinthia," she said. "I never could have got him away from his father, but I had to leave."

"Was he cruel to you, my lady?"

"He was -- " she said, but didn't finish, turning away from as if overwhelmed by some emotion.

"You shouldn't worry about your husband," Peter said, feeling oddly protective. "You are in Narnia now and he can't reach you." Peter realized immediately how empty this sounded when there was a Terebinthian force poised to attack. He would defeat Torim. He had to defeat Torim. The girl looked at him, some indescribable emotion in her face, and then she turned and ran. Peter called after her, but she ran anyway. He stood on the balcony a few minutes longer pondering until a messenger came to tell him that the fighting had begun. Peter was almost relieved to have the waiting over.

Susan

Susan was in her sitting room surrounded by ladies – most of them the Terebinthians whom she had brought with her. The women, the ones who had stayed near Cair, seemed more comfortable with her. Many of them confided in her their fears and sorrows, and these ladies had many.

Susan had been young when the war had started back in her old world – England. But she still remembered how it had drawn the women together. The same seemed to be happening here; the ladies came together in small groups, lending one another courage. There had been small skirmishes out to sea for days now, but no decisive battle. Peter told her that all was going well, but Susan had to wonder. She patted her big belly miserably. Her child would be born soon. Most likely to the sounds of battle, of his or her father trying to capture her mother. How had she messed everything up so badly? She had always been so practical.

But this wasn't true. Marrying Torim had been truly impractical. But she had been in love with him. No matter how he might hurt her now, she had been in love with him. Susan was unusually quiet and she knew that her ladies must have been wondering what was wrong with her.

They were working on embroidery. Susan's had improved much in the last few years, though she still didn't like it much. Lucy, who was sitting across from her was much more dreadful than she and she saw the others eyeing Lucy's work with something like disdain. Lucy looked down at her own embroidery and scowled, seeming to know that it was terrible. "This is ridiculous," she muttered, not for the first time. "I feel so useless here, doing nothing. I've been trained to use a bow and arrow. So have many of the Narnian ladies. Why won't Peter let us fight?"

Susan honestly could not understand this idea of her sister's. Archery was a pleasant pastime, but war would horrible. It wasn't so much the thought of her own death that troubled Susan as it was the blood and death and suffering of others all around. The idea of killing another person was too horrible for Susan to even contemplate. She did not understand how her brothers did it, but she was glad that, as a woman, she was not expected to participate. "Don't talk so, Lucy," she said, smiling at her sister a bit in spite of herself. "I would not like to think of you running off and getting yourself killed. Are you so eager for blood?"

Lucy crossed her arms, nearly pouting as she had done when she was younger. "No. I don't think that any good person is eager for blood. I only want to fight for the same reasons Peter and Edmund do. To protect Narnia and my family."

One of the Terebinthian women, young and blue eyed and the only one who still wore a veil over her face spoke up. "If it please Your Majesty, women are not made for battle. We do our fighting in the child birthing bed where many of us die --" the young woman looked over at Susan and seemed to realize that this was the wrong thing to say in the presence of a lady whose time was so near. She blushed and Marna, who was seated near Lucy, chastised her.

"Then I think that they would give us more medals and honors for it," Marna snapped, a bit sharper than Susan thought necessary. Susan knew that her sister-in-law was pregnant again, though it did not yet show, and she was perceptive enough to know that know that Marna and Edmund were having some sort of marriage troubles. Edmund wasn't even at Cair – he was to the south with a small force, supposedly to guard against attack in a vulnerable port town, though Susan did not believe this story. Peter hadn't wanted Ed to leave, but her younger brother had insisted. Susan thought this very odd.

The girl flushed in anger and glared at Marna. "The lady Marna forgets --" she began, but at that moment, Susan cried out, clutching her stomach in pain. Susan had suspected all morning that she was going into labor; now she was sure.

Lucy ran to her. "Susan!" she exclaimed. "Oh, no Susan, not now," Lucy soothed Susan's hair back from her face.

Susan looked around at the panicked women and knew that she had to be strong. She sat up and tried not to grimace from the pain. "Regina," she said calmly to her lady-in-waiting. "Fetch the midwife, please."

Edmund

Edmund had never been able to relate to strangers as well as his brother and sisters. Lucy had always found a friend in everyone worth befriending, Susan knew just what to say to put people at ease, and Peter was able to command the respect of all. Edmund wasn't like this. Small talk irritated him and he never knew what to say in social situations. Even here in Narnia, Edmund had always been much more inclined to draw a small circle of friends about him. He knew that many of his subjects thought him snobbish for it, but he certainly didn't mean to give off this impression.

Edmund held a letter absently in his hands, as he sat in his friend's study. "What does it say?" his friend Yulan asked. Edmund had gone south to lead a small force, but he spent most of his time at his friend's house drinking chilled wine and sitting by the river. This place most likely wouldn't be attacked, but Peter had been planning to send a force this way and Edmund had told his brother that he might as well be the one to lead it. Edmund got up and began pacing around Yulen's sitting room. "It is as we feared," he said, "Cair Paravel has been attacked."

"I knew it when I saw that they were withdrawing ships," Yulan said. Many people whispered that Yulan was Edmund's lover, but it was not so. Yulan courted a different young woman every other week or so. A few whispered that it was not Yulan, but Peridan, the young lord who was supposed to have command of this flank of Peter's army before Edmund rather suddenly decided he wanted to get away from Cair. Peridan stayed at Yulan's house nearly as much as Edmund himself, but it was not true that he was Edmund's lover. He was married with two children and another on the way and Edmund was not sure that the man even liked him.

Edmund had received a letter from Marna a few weeks ago, telling him that she was going to have another child. He had torn the letter up and thrown it into the sea. He didn't want to think about having another child with Marna at the moment.

"Shall we take our regiment back to Cair to help in the battle? It might not be too late," Yulan suggested half-heartedly. Edmund wondered if his friend sensed how guilty he felt, being away from his family at a time like this. Edmund wondered if people also whispered that he was a coward – he had not heard of them doing so, but one never knew. Perhaps the fact that he had already proved himself several times in battle – against the witch, and later clearing out her followers – stayed their tongues.

Edmund shook his head. "Peter wants us to stay here. Besides, it would probably be too late by the time we got there."

"Oh," Yulan did not seem surprised. "King Edmund --" he said, hesitantly.

"Yes?"

"There was another letter. One from your wife."

"Give it to me," Edmund commanded. Yulan took a letter off his desk and handed it to Edmund. Edmund looked down at the parchment, fingering the wax seal. Then he ripped the letter, unopened, into pieces and threw them into Yulan's small fireplace.

Lucy

Lucy stroked her sister's hand as Susan panted and struggled not to scream. "You're doing well, Su," Lucy told her, soothingly, but Susan did not seem comforted. "It will all be over soon." Lucy wished that there were others to help her comfort her sister. The midwife was a dwarf woman who was skilled, but not terribly soothing. Susan's lady-in-waiting, Regina, was the only other person in the room and she was a panicked wreck.

Susan's room was dark and stuffy. It was not yet nighttime, but Lucy had drawn the curtains tightly closed because the sight of the smoke in the air had upset Susan. Something was burning to the north where the battle was raging. When Lucy opened the window and listened carefully, she could hear the faint sounds of fighting. She had closed the window also.

"How much longer?" Susan asked the midwife and Lucy could tell that her sister was trying to keep her voice steady.

The midwife scowled. "It's hard to say. A couple more hours at least."

Susan sighed and leaned back onto her pillow.

"Don't worry, Su," Lucy said, feeling so very sorry for her sister. "I'll stay here with you until it's finished."

"Lucy … Lucy …" Susan sighed. "I wish that this wasn't happening now. Does that make me a horrible person? For not wanting my baby to come."

"Oh, no, Su," Lucy said, emphatically. "Who would want their baby to come at a time like this?"

"I hope it's a girl," Susan whispered, "so that Torim won't want it."

Tears of sympathy filled Lucy's eyes. She could only imagine what Susan must be going through. What she must have went through when she was a prisoner in Terebinthia.

"You," the midwife said, pointing at Lucy. "Go get some fresh linens." Lucy crossed her arms. She certainly couldn't accuse the dwarf of being intimidated by royalty.

"Of course," Lucy said, shrugging. She patted Susan's hand. "I'll be right back, Su," she told her sister and Susan nodded, briefly.

Lucy got up and straightened her dress, her legs stiff from sitting for so long. She opened the door and stepped into the hallway, glad to be away from the hot, stuffy birthing room, if only for a moment. She walked down the hallway and around the corner and came face to face with three armed men. Lucy gave a small shriek of surprise. She could tell, almost immediately, that they were Terebinthian. Lucy shrank away from them, but the one in the middle, a big man with shaggy hair, grabbed her by the arm and drew her to him.

"Where is the Queen Susan, girl?" he asked her roughly.

Lucy realized that they did not know who she was. "I don't know," she lied, her voice shaking a bit, not only from fear, but because she was unused to telling lies.

The man drew a long, curved dagger and pressed it against her breast. "I have no time for games," he said. "Tell me where I may find the Queen Susan and you shall live. Refuse to cooperate and, well …"

Lucy's heart was beating fast. She didn't know how these Terebinthians had made it past the many guards, but they had obviously been sent to kidnap Susan. The man relaxed his hand, so that the dagger was no longer pinching her flesh, smiling at his friends a bit. Apparently, he thought that she was no threat. Her hand went impulsively to a ruby bead that she wore around her neck. Roydon had given it to her. But Roydon was far away. Her brothers were far away. Lucy's hand darted to her side where she kept her dagger. If she had been thinking clearly, she probably never would have drawn a weapon against three heavily armed men, but she was not thinking clearly. She only knew that she had to get away from them and keep them from her sister. She drew her dagger and slashed at his hand. The blade connected with his flesh and caused him to drop his own dagger and double over in pain, nursing his hand. She then quickly slashed the dagger across the face of one of the others causing him to scream. The third, however, grabbed her hand, twisting it until she dropped her weapon on the ground. He continued to hold her firmly by the arm.

"Kill her!" the man whose hand she had slashed cried out. "Kill that little whore!" Lucy could see that blood was flowing from his hand and falling upon the floor. The man whose face she had slashed was crying and Lucy realized, queasily, that his eye was a bloody mess. The man who was holding her arm drew his dagger and Lucy was certain that he was going to kill her. At that moment, however, Lucy felt his body go limp and he fell away from her.

Lucy turned around and found Marna drawing her own dagger from the Terebinthian's back. Lucy realized that she was lucky that the man hadn't been wearing armor. The man with the wounded hand struggled to draw his sword, but Lucy had cut his sword hand, making him slow and clumsy. Before he could draw his blade, Marna had stabbed him through the heart. Marna, Lucy now remembered, had gone to find out news of the war, but had been planning to come back up to the birthing room.

Lucy grabbed her dagger from the ground, afraid that the third would try something, but as Marna pointed her dagger at him, he shrank away and whimpered in fear. "Please don't kill me!" he cried pathetically. "I never meant … please don't kill me."

"Remove your sword," Marna said. The man did so, taking off scabbard and all and handing it to Marna. "Lucy. Lucy," Marna said, drawing Lucy's attention away from the dying men on the floor. "You should go outside and alert the guards at the door. You know how thick the walls are here. They likely didn't hear a thing."

"They are still there?" Lucy blurted. There were guards posted at the entrance to the royal chambers, but Lucy had assumed that these men must have killed them.

"They were there when I walked through a moment ago and they didn't seem to sense anything amiss. These men likely got through some of the hidden passages in the castle. I'll wager that Susan showed Torim how to get into her chambers discretely a time or two."

Lucy was having a hard time taking her eyes off the men lying on the floor. "You stabbed him in the back," Lucy said, a note of accusation creeping into her voice. Peter had always said that it wasn't honorable to stab an enemy in the back.

"They were going to kill you," Marna said. "A woman alone, virtually unarmed. These were no knights, Lucy."

Lucy nodded shakily and went to fetch the guards. They took the men away, hoping that the one who had surrendered would be able to tell them something about Torim. Then, they found that the men had got in through a passage under the floor in a spare bedroom.

Lucy tried to look calm and queenly rather than scared and shaken and sick which was how she felt. "I want guards at the entrance to Susan's quarters as well as at the passage where they got in," she told them. "And one patrolling these hallways."

"Of course, Your Majesty," said the captain of the castle guards, who had been called up.

Then, Marna came to her, holding two swords, one of which she handed to Lucy. Lucy saw that she had taken the weapons from the Terebinthians. "Here," Marna said. "In case the guards fail."

Lucy took the sword, handling it awkwardly and nearly dropping it. Marna watched her carefully.

"You do not know how to use a sword," Marna said. It was not a question, but a statement.

Lucy didn't answer, but she handed the sword back to Marna. It seemed large and unwieldy and she was as likely to cut off her own hand as she was to give serious threat to a trained swordsman. Marna looked her over.

"I would suggest that you learn before you beg your brother to be sent into battle again," she told Lucy. "You can bet that all of Peter's soldiers – all the human ones – have basic knowledge of how to use a sword, even if they are archers." She lightly gripped the sword and tested its weight. "Sword and lance, daggers and bow, perhaps even the axe. These are the weapons that young men of good breeding are taught to use. Women only learn how to use a dagger and bow and arrow, if that."

Lucy looked at her. "But you know how to use a sword," she said, seeing the easy way that Marna handled the weapon.

Marna waved this off. "As well as a squire, perhaps, though not so well as most knights. Come. Let's get back to your sister."