Chapter Thirteen: Bad News

Peter

There were an unusual number of petitions to the king this month as a result of the recent conflict with Terebinthia. Peter's army had been victorious, more or less, but as with any battle or war, many people had lost something or someone. There were petitions from families whose homes had been destroyed, most especially in the fire that the Terebinthians had set in the latter hours of the battle, merchants whose shops were destroyed, newly made widows and orphans, and people who were just trying to make some money out of the confusion. Peter still hadn't come to terms with Torim either, and many of his subjects were making suggestions for what his terms should be.

Peter and his sisters had been listening for hours when Marna approached them. Peter sat up when he saw her and paid even more attention when he saw that she was accompanied by the veiled lady whom Peter had once spoken to on the balcony. Marna was somewhat pale, though she looked more presentable than was her habit. Her pregnancy was beginning to show. Edmund was still staying to the south despite the fact that war with Terebinthia was basically over. Peter knew that he was not getting along with Marna and Peter had heard rumors that he was enjoying the company of one of Narnia's lords a little too much. If he stayed away much longer, Peter would have to go have a longtalk with his brother, as much as he dreaded it.

But why was Marna petitioning him in court? She was Edmund's wife. Surely, if there were anything she needed, she would come to him privately? The veiled girl beside Marna had her head bowed and Peter wondered if the petition was for her.

"Your Majesties," Marna said, making the appropriate curtsey. The girl beside of her curtsied also, almost identically.

"My lady Marna," Peter said, tearing his eyes away from the young women and nodding at Marna. "What would you ask of us?"

Marna chewed on her lip nervously. "Your Majesty," she said to Peter. "My sister would ask a favor of you."

"You sister?" he asked, confused. Marna had many sisters, but what could she mean? "You mean this is your sister?" he asked seeing a look pass between Marna and the veiled girl.

Marna looked at him uncertainly. "Yes," she said, "this is my sister, Kiera."

Kiera. Peter remembered that Kiera, who was between Marna and Ethnee in age, had married a man from one of the islands. Was it Terebinthia? Peter was not sure, for he had not been at the wedding nor had he ever met her husband.

"This is Kiera?" asked Susan who was sitting next to him. Susan had spoken little all day. This was her first time attending court since the birth of her son. "Do you mind taking off the veil and showing us?" Susan did not sound skeptical so much as surprised. Peter realized that his sister had brought this woman back with her from Terebinthia, and from the expression on her face, had not suspected a thing.

Kiera's looked slightly fearful as she looked around the throne room. Her blue eyes met Peter's and he found that he could not look away. He realized, with a sharp pain, that she had the same eyes as Ethnee. Still looking at him, she nodded. "I will remove the veil," she said. Peter wondered why on earth she had felt the need to wear it in the first place.

She took the veil off and Peter saw that she must have been planning for this to happen, for her blonde hair was fixed nicely. She looked much the way that Peter remembered, though she seemed tired and agitated. He most definitely recognized her as Kiera. She was taller than Ethnee, her blonde hair was straight, and her face more pointed, but she actually looked a good deal like his late wife.

"What favor would you ask of us, my lady?" Peter asked, huskily.

She lowered her eyes. "My son is in Terebinthia with his father. I was not able to bring him with me when I left. His father is one of King Torim's high lords and I would have you ask that my son be returned to me when you discuss terms with the Terebinthians.

Peter sucked in his breath. He could easily sympathize with Kiera wanting her son, especially if her husband was not a kind man, but this would be difficult to negotiate. The Terebinthians would view it as a private, family matter and not something to be negotiated in treaties, especially since none of the parties involved were royal. Looking into her big, sad eyes, however, Peter found it hard to refuse her.

"I will see what I can do."

Susan

Susan was getting a headache. They had been sitting in the council room negotiating with Terebinthia for hours. Surprisingly, ironing out relations between Narnia and Terebinthia was the easy part. She was what made matters difficult. Torim was refusing to give her a divorce.

"I've told you again and again," Torim said, red-faced, to Peter. "Absolutely not. Divorces are not done in Terebinthia. My people will not accept it."

"You were not married in Terebinthia," Peter said calmly, but firmly. "You were married in Narnia where Susan has more than enough cause to divorce you. This is not negotiable. I will not force my sister to remain married to you."

"You would never have to see me again," Torim growled, turning to Susan. "But we must remain married. Don't you want your son to sit on the throne of Terebinthia someday? A divorce would jeopardize this."

"Su doesn't care about your Terebinthia," Lucy told Torim derisively. Torim jumped. He always seemed surprised whenever Lucy spoke.

It was true enough that Susan had hated Terebinthia. Torim did have a point, however. Terebinthia was her son's birthright, the same as her own throne was her daughter's birthright. Susan would not rob him of it if she could help it.

Peter frowned. "If your countrymen will not accept the babe as King when the time comes, then so be it. But I will not see my sister tied down to a man such as you, unable to marry again."

One of Torim's advisors began whispering furiously to him. Susan could hear bits and pieces of their conversation. It seemed that Torim's advisor did not think his king in the position to be making demands. Torim seemed to be furious at Peter's comment and at the whole situation in general. Her husband was not used to being crossed.

Finally, he turned back to them, seemingly with great difficulty. "I will agree to a divorce if you agree on a few conditions."

Peter shrugged and looked at Susan. "I suppose that there is no harm in hearing these conditions," Susan said, trying to sound imposing. Torim smirked at her. He had always been able to see through her.

Torim laced his hands together. "Firstly I would ask that you not put about any slanderous rumors about why Susan and I divorced."

Lucy frowned at him. "We will not lie to our subjects if that is what you are asking," she said.

"I did not say that you should," Torim said, gritting his teeth. "I only ask that neither you nor your any of your assistants speak of our reasons for separating."

"Done," Susan said quickly, cutting off Peter who seemed ready to object. She did not want people talking of her failed marriage any more than Torim did. She just wanted to put it behind her and this would be easier if everyone would forget it as soon as possible.

Peter frowned at her, but turned to Torim. "What are your other conditions?" he asked.

"That my son's name, as is tradition in Terebinthia, be a derivative of my own. And that he be called by it."

"Susan has already named herson," Lucy said. Susan had decided on the name Willam for him.

Torim seemed to already know this, but he waved it off. "I was given to understand that a child's name is not official in Narnia until he is presented, in this case to the kingdom."

This was true and as it had been a very chaotic month, Susan's son had not yet been presented. The idea of naming her son after Torim was repulsive to Susan, but not as repulsive as the idea of more fighting. "Any other conditions?" she asked.

Torim took a deep breath. "I want my children sent to visit me once every two years for a period of --"

"No," Susan said, firmly.

"That's right," Peter said. "After your attempts to keep Susan prisoner, how do we know that you won't try the same with the children? I know it seems hard," Peter forestalled Torim's objections, "but if you really want to see your children, then you can do so here in Narnia. Provided, of course, that only bring one ship with you when you come."

Torim's face went red. "And how do I know that you won't try to harm me while I am in Narnia?" he fumed. "You give me no trust, but ask that I give you a great deal."

"I understand your concerns," Peter said, "but we are not the ones who have proved faithless." Peter could be very stoic, a quality for which Susan was often grateful.

Torim slammed his hand down hard on the table and Susan could see that he was truly upset. "Susan is my wife!" he yelled. "Stop acting as if I kidnapped her. She was my wife and I was keeping her where she belongs – with me."

"You kept Susan prisoner!" Lucy exclaimed. "And you expect us --" Peter put a hand on his youngest sister's shoulder and she stopped in the middle of her sentence.

"Regardless of what reasons you may have had, this outburst only heightens our fears that you may try to keep the children, were we to send them to you. Surely, you must think of them as your possessions as well as Susan."

"I don't --" Torim began angrily, but his advisor began speaking to him again and after a moment, he turned back to them. "Very well," he said with great reluctance. Torim was not used to not getting his way. "But I want my son sent to Terebinthia when he reaches the age of fourteen for a period of five years to learn about his country."

Peter looked at Susan in question. This did not seem like an unreasonable request. If her son was to become King of Terebinthia one day, then it seemed right that he at least know the place. On the other hand, Susan did not like the idea of forcing her son – at the age of fourteen too – to go to such a dreadful place. Or the idea of placing him in Torim's hands.

She realized that everyone was looking at her. "He may go," she said, heavily, "provided that he agrees to it when the time comes."

"Why would he agree to it?" another of Torim's advisors questioned. "You will poison him against Terebinthia and his own father."

"I won't," Susan said faintly. She was not looking forward of speaking to her children about their father.

"He will agree to it," Torim said grimly. "Because you will give him to understand that he will not inherit my throne if he does not."

Torim seemed to think that this was sufficient threat to convince anyone. It certainly would have swayed him. She sometimes wondered if he hadn't meant to get a hold on one of the Narnian thrones from the time that he started courting her. Whether the Terebinthian throne would be an incentive for Susan's son remained to be seen. Susan suddenly wished that Edmund were here. He was good at ironing out treaties and such and perhaps he would have been able to think of something. But Edmund and Marna had still not reconciled.

"What about Ambrosia?" Lucy asked, suddenly.

"What?" Torim asked, as though interrupted in his thoughts.

"Ambrosia? Your daughter." Susan motioned furiously for Lucy to keep quiet. What if Torim decided that he wanted Ambrosia too? But Lucy did not seem to realize this and was genuinely curious.

Torim gave a cruel smirk that Susan knew was for her benefit. "What do I want with a girl?" he asked.

Edmund

Edmund began flinging his clothing into a bag, his hands shaking.

"Edmund," he heard his friend Yulan say, "are you sure that you are going to be well?"

Edmund was now looking for his sword in a hurried manner. "I'll be fine. I just have to get back to Cair. I should never have left her for so long …"

An urgent message had just come from the castle. Marna was in childbirth and was probably dying.

"It wasn't your fault. Anyone would have been upset," Edmund had confided what Marna had done to him to Yulan and Peridan one night several weeks ago.

"I shouldn't have – I shouldn't --"

"You need to calm down," said Peridan and Edmund jumped. He had not realized that Peridan had followed him to his room. Edmund looked at him and saw that his grey eyes were sincere, even sympathetic, but his voice was firm. "You are in no state to ride back to Cair as you are."

"He's right," Yulan put in. "I don't think you should go."

"How can I not go?" Edmund asked. "She's dying. And the child …"

"I agree with you," Peridan said, looking at him with great intensity. Edmund remembered that Peridan had children of his own. "You have to go. You just need to take a deep breath and calm down a bit."

Edmund ignored him. Yulan sighed. "I should probably go with him," he said to Peridan, but Edmund noticed a definite note of reluctance in his friend's voice.

"I'll go," Peridan said and Edmund was too weary to protest.

--- -- ---

She lay on the bed, pale and thinner than Edmund remembered her, despite having just had a child. All the way back to the castle, Edmund had told himself that if Marna lived, he would make things right with her. He did care about her and they had two children together. What she did to him was wrong, but she was sorry for it and it was time to forgive her. Looking at her looking back at him, however, Edmund could not help but feel a surge of anger and resentment. He had been so determined to be a good father and Marna had taken that away from him.

He sat down at her bedside. "You're well?" he asked. He had been told that the threat to her life was over.

"No," she said, "but I'm not going to die, if that is what you mean." There was a long awkward silence in which Marna wouldn't look at him. "Wouldn't you like to look at the baby?" she asked, finally.

Edmund sighed. "Yes," he said.

"He's asleep in the crib, over there," Marna gestured. "Don't wake him."

Edmund slowly walked over to the crib and looked down at his son. The baby had a great deal of dark hair and was an altogether attractive newborn. "Have you named him yet?" Edmund asked.

"Gareth, I thought."

"I like it," Edmund told her, honestly.

"They don't think … they don't think that I can have any more. Children, I mean."

"Oh," Edmund came back over to her and sat down. "So, what do we do now?" he asked, reluctantly.

Marna looked away from him. "You can have a divorce if you want it," she said. Edmund had been thinking of something like this, but as soon as the words came out of Marna's mouth, he was against it. Marna would want to take the children and he would want to keep them at Cair Paravel. Besides, they had once had an amicable marriage. Surely, there wasn't any reason why they couldn't have one again.

"I don't want a divorce," he said, crossing his arms.

"What do you want, then?" Marna said, not as if she were angry, but as if she were honestly curious. "I can do no more than apologize for the way that things turned out with Jolie and I've done that countless times. I don't particularly want a divorce – I think that our boys will be happier if we stay together – but it seems to me that you must either divorce me or forgive me and you refuse to do either."

Edmund sighed. She was right of course. There was no use in holding on to a grudge against his wife forever and who was he to deny anyone else forgiveness? "I was upset," Edmund said. "But it no longer matters."

"Good," Marna gave him a tremulous smile and for the first time, Edmund realized that he probably shouldn't be taxing her with so many worries so soon after her birthing. Yet, he could not resist asking one more thing.

"Have you heard from her?"

Marna sighed. "Jolie? Yes, she has written me two letters."

"May I see them?" Edmund asked, hating the tone of anxiousness in his own voice.

"They are personal," Marna said reproachfully, but after looking at him, her expression changed to one of pity. "She had her baby almost two months ago," she informed him, "A boy. She says he is healthy."

"I see," Edmund said, a flood of emotions coursing through him.

Marna placed a hand on his arm. "There is nothing you can do. You should try to forget about all of this mess."

Edmund closed his eyes. "I'll try."

Lucy

Lucy grunted heavily as another blow landed against her shield. The arms master was giving her fencing lessons. They had been going at it all day and were just getting ready to call it quits when Lucy noticed that Susan was standing at the end of the practice yard, looking on anxiously. Lucy sighed, thinking that Susan had come to tell her of the dangers of sword fighting again, but another look at her sister's face told her that it was something else.

Lucy sheathed her sword and approached Susan. "What is it?" she asked.

Susan opened her mouth and closed it again, as if unsure what to say. "Peter and I need to speak to you, dear," she said, softly.

Lucy frowned. She could tell by Susan's tone that it was something serious. "Let me go change out of my armor and into something fresh," she said.

Susan looked Lucy up and down, her eyes seeming to take in the old leather armor that Lucy was wearing and her sweaty face. "Never mind that," she said, gently, "just come."

Lucy followed her sister, uneasily, into the throne room where Peter was alone and pacing back and forth. "What is it?" she abruptly repeated her question to Susan to her brother. Their behavior was making her very anxious.

"Lucy --" Peter said, hesitating, "there has been trouble to the north."

"Trouble?" Lucy asked, fearing that it would mean war with the giants again.

Peter hesitated again, but after Susan gave him an encouraging nod, he continued. "A small scouting party has been kidnapped, we think."

Lucy sighed in relief. If it were only a small party, then things couldn't be too bad yet. But she almost immediately began to worry. Why would Peter and Susan tell her in this way unless some friend of hers was captured? Then, Lucy realized who it must be. "Roydon," she said, her hand going to the necklace that she wore around her neck.

Susan placed a hand on her shoulder, but Lucy barely felt it through her armor. "We knew that you were courting?" it was half a question, for though it was accurate to say that they had been courting, they were only at the beginning of the courtship. "Lucy I'm so sorry," and Susan gave her a long hug.

Lucy looked over at Peter. "We'll get them back," Peter told her, but Lucy wondered if he wasn't speaking with more confidence than he felt. She had heard of the cruelty of the Giants. Negotiating for prisoners would be difficult and any rescue effort would be even more so.

Absently, Lucy fingered her sword hilt.