Chapter 21
Hope is Sometimes Enough
Although Peter's posture displayed nothing but confidence, his ragged breathing and sweating brow illustrated the truth. Before him the Telmarine cavalry was charging, the sheer mass of their steed's hooves creating a thunder that reverberated under Peter's feet.
Attempting to quell his fears, Peter forced his eyes forward and Rhindon securely between his fingers. Edmund seemed to be fighting the same battle, for his eyes twitched reverently over the mass rolling through the grass-filled planes of the valley. The soldier's faces were covered with the same frozen sneer are Miraz's, but the color was silver and blinding in the mid-day light.
Peter straightened as the sound of a horn blew through the rocky depths of the How. It was deep and muted, but Peter still heard it clear as day. There was no turning back now. "One," Peter whispered softly to himself as his eyes shut briefly in an attempt to visualize Cara leading their troops purposefully through the lowest chamber of the How.
"Two." Cara's brow was furled into a hardened scowl as Alvaro weaved his way around the shaking pillars that supported the valley above. Dust floated heavily in the air, the walls and ceiling trembling dangerously around her.
"Three," Trumpkin said steadily to himself as he glanced at the valley below. He stood proud atop the How with a random array of Narnian archers. The time was nearly upon them. "Archers to the ready," he commanded as he fitted his bow with an arrow and fixed it towards the sky.
"Four." Adrenaline had forced all fear from Peter's body as he counted the seconds steadily off. He wanted to speed up time. The numbers fell too slowly from his lips.
"Five more seconds and those savages will have no hope," Sopespian quipped as his horse skidded to a stop beside Glozelle. The General said nothing, for his heart did not harbor the same blind confidence. Truly, Glozelle's judgment was no longer shrouded with the suffocating greed and hate that lay thickly over Sopespian's skin. That blanket had long been lifted, its absence causing Glozelle's body to shiver and breathe with the power of reality.
Sopespian continued to talk, but Glozelle paid little attention to the perfidious man, for his mind was focused on the pending battle and the valley before him that was steadily beginning to blur. Moving his eyes from the backs of his men, Glozelle looked to Peter. The young King stood erect and proud in the middle of the arena. He was unmoving. Unworried. Glozelle frowned.
The boy knew something he didn't.
"Eight." Peter's entire body stiffened as he pushed the word past his lips. Two more seconds. Time had all but stopped.
Nine. Cara thought the number, her mind too focused on what was to come to speak anything but the final command. The moment was upon them. Never before had Cara's body filled with such a suffocating rush. She knew not what awaited her beyond this moment. The plan could be folly—the valley crumbling too quickly and landing upon them—or it could be as seamless and well timed as Peter had hoped.
Filling her lungs with air, the High Queen opened her lips and refused to feel anything but determination and power. Only survival mattered. Only victory.
"Now!"
It happened immediately. The Narnian troops moved as one solid mass of destruction as they battered the already wavering pillars that hindered their course and signified their past. Both needed to be destroyed. It was time to move forward. It was time to disregard all restraints.
Giants rammed the walls while centaurs and minotaurs swung clubs and stumps. Dust filled the air with such thickness that breathing and seeing became practically unfeasible. The ceiling rumbled as its support was swept away like grains of sand caught in rushing water, while the dim light of the torches flickered and died under the heap of rocks and dirt that broke from the walls and fell upon them.
Soon darkness surrounded them, but it caused no fear, for above small flickers of light slowly began to filter through the ground that was collapsing under the weight of the Telmarine cavalry. It did not happen at once, but began slowly with one horse screaming when it slipped through the ground and disappeared.
Glozelle felt the shriek before he heard it, his horse becoming rigid beneath him. Filling with apprehension, his eyes scanned the backs of his men as they suddenly began to vanish. More screams floated through the air as the ground rapidly split apart and swallowed half of the Telmarine cavalry in one hungry gulp.
Sopespian huffed in disbelief, his mouth hanging open and his arms tense as he attempted to control the terrified horse under him. Glozelle continued to stare steadily ahead, the movement and yells before him adding to the confusion while the remaining soldiers attempted to keep their steeds from the sinking ground. His cavalry was now nothing more than stagnant targets.
"Aim," Trumpkin shouted as he pulled his bow back tightly and steadied him arm. "Fire!" The sky was instantly filled with red tipped arrows. Glozelle's cavalry continued to scramble from the gaping hole that sprung to life beneath them, their minds and eyes focused on escaping the ground and not the sky.
Few noticed the arrows before they hit, but when they came, the air filled with screams and gurgles as the sky unexpectedly turned more dangerous than the ground. It was instant chaos. No longer trying to free themselves from the hole, the Telmarines that remained alive attempted to shelter their bodies as they fell from their horses and slipped into the earth. Confused by the crumbling ground and piercing sky, the horses leapt and reared and climbed in an attempt to free themselves from the fear and pain that consumed them.
"Charge!" Peter shouted after the last of the arrows landed. All Narnian troops jumped forward at the command, their weapons held high and their voices wild. Moving quickly, Edmund left Peter's side and grabbed a Telmarine horse that had managed to find its way to freedom. He leapt gracefully upon its back before pushing past Peter and into the thick of the fight.
Watching as Edmund and his soldiers disappeared into mass of moving bodies, Peter jumped onto a boulder and glanced as far across the valley as he could, his eyes waiting for Alvaro and his rider to rise from the earth.
The dwarves heard the troop coming long before it rounded the last corner of the How and came into sight. Cara nodded her head as they released a lever allowing a large, hidden ramp to swing down from the ceiling and touch the ground. Alvaro cantered up it easily, his head swinging in excitement as the bright sun bounced off his neck and clean air graced his lungs. Filled with the same rush, Cara pulled her sword from its sheath and shoved it high in the air. Her voice rang out in a battle cry as Alvaro turned sharply from the ramp and towards the center of the valley.
Peter heard Cara's sharp voice immediately, his body feeling renewed when another shock of adrenaline rushed through his limbs. Leaping from the bolder, Peter joined his people. Rhindon glinted red in the sun and slashed easily through any Telmarine that dared approach his master.
Protecting Peter's back, the Bulgy Bear tore and flung any Telmarine that swayed into his grasp. Tigers and panthers growled and lunged, while giants and minotaurs shoved and bashed. Edmund and Caspian edged along the gapping hole and shot or stabbed any man that attempted to rise from its clutches. Alvaro moved easily through the chaos, his rider slicing down all that she could reach, while Glenstorm and his sons pushed against the trapped Telmarines, forcing them closer together and nearer to the opening in the earth.
"Do something!" Sopespian looked to Glozelle with wild eyes. The scene before him spelled utter failure for the Telmarines, but in truth, the majority of their army stood idle awaiting a command from their Lords. "General." Glozelle still refused to acknowledge Sopespian, his eyes squinting into the sun as he watched the creatures of Narnia fight passionately for what inherently belonged to them. As his gaze caught sight of young Caspian, Glozelle felt the faint tendrils of gilt weaving their way through the edges of his mind.
Gilt for attempting without the faintest hint of reluctance to murder the true King of Narnia. Gilt for using the term savage to describe the fearless people before him. Gilt for wasting the majority of his life fighting for something that never mattered. But Glozelle's true gilt came when he realized that he felt no sorrow for the lives of his men that were now lost.
"If you will not lead your men, than I will." Sopespian's bitter words cut into Glozelle's thoughts.
Finally, the General turned. "They are no longer my men," he responded coolly before spurring his horse forward. Sopespian watched with a look of disgust as Glozelle's silhouette disappeared into the sun. "Weak." He spit the word out before turning his horse harshly towards the army at his heels. The men before him stared blankly ahead; fine tuned machines that knew nothing beyond obeying orders.
"Soldiers," Sopespian commanded as he spun back around with his sword twisting in the air, "attack!"
Glozelle kept his eyes locked on Cara as he rode swiftly towards her. He felt free and invigorated, yet terrified and foolish. The Narnians were vastly outnumbered, and their unwavering hope dangled from a thread that he had yet to grasp, but the woman locked in his gaze had captured his heart in a way that he could no longer deny. It was not love, or lust, or devotion, but something deep and pious.
She had saved him, and in return, he would fight to save her.
Cara pulled Alvaro to a stop at the rhythmic sound of heavy marching. Her heart skipped when her eyes caught sight of the sea of silver moving steadily towards them. Thousands of soldiers marched slow and calculated, the outer bands of men stretching themselves further with each step creating a perfect semicircle around their opponents.
Soon, they were going to be the ones trapped.
"Peter," Cara whispered breathlessly, her mind suddenly recalling that she had not yet seen him. Was she alone in this? Cara looked frantically from side to side, her eyes stopping every time she saw a flit of red. The battle surrounding her was now chaotic. She saw nothing but movement and felt nothing but complete entrapment.
And then she saw him.
He was still far off, but his golden hair glinted like a beacon of hope. Cara's heart pounded with renewed vigor as she watched Peter kill with no fear and no regret. For a moment the chaos slowed and the approaching danger seemed like nothing more than a bad dream.
But the moment ended just as quickly as it came.
Cara barely had time to scream as two hands ripped her from Alvaro and flung her heavily to the ground. Alvaro danced awkwardly away from the commotion, his agile legs attempting to miss his Queen. Scrambling forward, Cara's hands roamed frantically along the ground for her sword. She felt the blade, cold and hard between the tips of her fingers, but it was kicked away before she could fully grasp it. Calloused hands instantly wrapped themselves around her neck and into her hair, causing Cara to wince as she was heaved from the ground. Forgetting about the other weapons hidden on her person, Cara's hands went immediately to her head, her nails clawing at her opponent in an attempt to free herself.
He laughed in response and spun her around to look at him. Cara looked defiantly into his yellow-rimmed eyes before hawking her head back and, without any sense of propriety, spit into his face. The action caused her attacker to falter for a second, a look of bafflement sketched across his features.
The moment was brief, but it allowed Cara time to wiggle back from his grasp and kick him ruthlessly in the knee. He cried in pain as his leg buckled beneath him, forcing both he and Cara back to the ground. Still clutched between his fingers, Cara scratched and punched his face, her knuckles quickly becoming bruised and raw.
"Bloody harpy," he said between clenched teeth as his knee struck Cara in the stomach. She gagged as air fled from her lungs and bile rose to her throat. Sputtering, Cara coiled around the pain. Without warning his knee came forward again, this time connecting with her jaw. Warm wetness flowed down her chin upon contact, her lip burning where it was cleaning split in two. Ignoring the pain, Cara struck out, her nails grazing dangerously close to her attacker's eyes. Attempting to control her, the man's grip tightened on Cara's hair, small portions of her scalp loosening under the pressure. Cara's face contorted in agony as her hands once again reached for her hair.
And then it stopped.
With ragged breathes, Cara pushed herself away from the man and untangled his fingers from her hair. Small, black clumps remained in his grasp. Still unnerved, Cara pulled a forgotten dagger from her belt and turned back towards the man, her posture matching that of a cornered dog. She relaxed when her opponent didn't move, his eyes staring blankly into the sky and his arms haphazardly at his side. Confused, Cara looked up.
Glozelle's sword was still stuck precariously into the back of one of his soldiers when he stepped lightly over the man and kneeled beside the woman he had saved. Cara looked at him with a slack jaw and blank eyes, the blood from her lip disappearing as it dripped lightly onto her dress.
"We have to find your King." Glozelle lifted Cara delicately from the ground before turning the soldier onto his stomach and pulling his sword unceremoniously from his back.
"You have." Cara had barely moved from the ground when Rhindon shot out from behind her and stopped dangerously close to Glozelle's neck. Feeling the cool blade, Glozelle turned carefully towards Peter.
"Peter don—"
"Drop your sword," Peter commanded, his words cutting over Cara's protest. Cara frowned as she pushed herself from the ground and shoved Rhindon away from Glozelle's neck. Peter looked at her incredulously.
"We don't have time for this," Cara stated as she glared defiantly at Peter before casting her gaze toward the Telmarine army that was now nearly upon them. Peter gave Glozelle one last hardened look before reaching for Cara and pulling her protectively against his chest. Cara tucked her chin into his neck for a brief moment, the blood on her chin smearing across his armor.
Ending the moment, Peter stepped away from his Queen and looked wearily at the approaching mass. Seeming to reach a conclusion, he turned quickly to the How and waved Rhindon high in the air. Moments later the sky became flickered with black as a group of griffons launched themselves into the air. Some carried massive boulders while others clutched arrow laden dwarves between their talons.
Glozelle watched the group of terrifying half eagle—half lion creatures as they swooped and soared across the valley and towards the Telmarine army. Boulders tossed by the catapults cluttered the sky, but the griffons weaved between them with ease. "They will accomplish nothing," Glozelle said to Peter in a tense voice. "Look."
Peter followed Glozelle's hand as it pointed into the sky, his breath catching in his throat as a harpoon shot from amongst the marching army and pierced the wing of a griffon. The creature screamed; a noise caught between the sharp cry of an eagle and the guttural whimper of a beast. Cara clutched Peter's arm while the griffon crashed towards the ground and rolled into the first line of Telmarine troops.
More harpoons instantly shot into the air, their speed and shape making them far harder for the griffon's to escape. Clusters of fur and feathers littered the ground, the Telmarine army moving forward over the still warm carcasses without a glance. Peter watched the shattering scene silently. He had nothing left. No hidden army. No tactical surprises. All that mattered now was keeping what was left of his people alive. After casting one last glance over the approaching force, Peter flung his arm over Cara's shoulder and ushered her towards Alvaro. As Cara maneuvered onto Alvaro's back, Peter turned his attention to Glozelle.
"Get her out of here." Glozelle nodded at the command and grabbed hold of his steed's reins.
"Peter?" Cara questioned in a hesitant voice, her eyes wandering between her King and the General. Peter returned his attention to Cara, his hands reaching up suddenly and pulling her towards him. Cara barely had time to close her eyes before Peter's lips crashed into hers. With his eyes still closed, Peter pulled his lips away and rested his forehead briefly against Cara's.
Just as Cara began to grasp the intimate moment, Peter pulled away and turned his gaze to Glozelle. "If anything happens to her, I'll kill you." The statement was simple, and far harsher than anything that usually fell from Peter's lips, but Glozelle seemed undeterred by it.
"Of course," Glozelle responded before bounding gracefully onto his horse's back. Having reached an understanding, both men turned away from each other and looked to Cara.
"Get back to the How," Peter ordered in a cool, even tone.
"What about you?" Cara questioned, her voice strained as she looked nervously at Peter.
"I'll be behind you. Now go!"
Sensing the tension, Alvaro began to dance beneath Cara, but she still refused leave Peter's side. "Go!" Peter ordered again before turning away from his Queen and fading into the sea of moving bodies. With one last look at Peter, Cara conceded and allowed Alvaro to bound forward.
Peter's voice instantly rang out above the sounds of clashing weapons and marching men. "Back to the How!" The fighting ceased at Peter's command, his troops glancing quickly at the approaching army before turning towards the How. Glozelle felt the shift around him; he and Cara where no longer maneuvering around the commotion, but moving with it.
Seeing his quarry fleeing before him, Sopespian turned his horse from the frontline and galloped towards the catapults. "Don't let them escape," he called as his horse skidded to a stop and spun. "Bring it down!"
Those closest to the How were nearly inside when the Telmarine catapults began to bare down upon the stone mass that long served as a sanctuary and home. Large chucks of rock splintered into the air, the noise reminding Peter of his terrifying experiences during the raid on London. He once again stood helpless, more of his people dieing from the stone fragments, sharper and stronger than arrows that littered the sky after each explosion. At a loss of what else to do, Peter looked frantically around him for the massive form of Wimbleweather. The catapults had to be destroyed.
"Stop!" Cara glanced over her shoulder at the sound of Glozelle's voice, her thighs squeezing in an attempt to slow Alvaro's steady gallop. "It will collapse," he continued once his horse reached Alvaro's side. Cara moved her gaze back to the How. The sides were crumbling away under the power of each new blow, while the trees masking it were shredded or fallen. The General was right. The How was only moments away from complete ruin.
Under the onslaught of stone fragments, only a few Narnian's had actually reached the entrance to the How, but their quick feet had not led them to safety. The finishing blow did not hit directly, but ricocheted of the side of the arena and landed feet above the entrance. The boulder paused for a moment, the How too weak to have destroyed it upon impact, but then a rumble came.
The How's walls cracked suddenly, the noise making both Alvaro and the steed carrying Glozelle skitter sideways. A moment later the sky filled with dust and debris as the killing boulder disappeared within, the entrance to the How falling with it. Cara watched in horror as Trumpkin and his troop of bowman skidded down the ruble, their calls of fright shrouded by the sounds of falling rock.
Utter silence followed. All that remained of Old Narnia glanced between one another with hopeless eyes and tense shoulders. Edmund, who now stood proudly beside Peter, stepped forward and held his sword high in the air. "For Narnia!" he called. "For High King Peter! For Aslan!" Cheers did not erupt, but hands clasped weapons with renewed authority and eyes turned towards the Telmarine troops that were now upon them. There was only one option left.
Fight.
BBBBBB
Susan was sure the moving vines where taking them to Beruna, but she couldn't guess why. The sun was now high, and would have caused her brow to moisten with sweat had the thickness of the tree people not covered it almost entirely. Around her the romp continued with vigor. Animals—the non speaking sort—had also joined into the fray, but they seemed elated by the commotion and had caused shouts of joy instead of alarm.
Silenus—that is—the large man riding the donkey, was fast asleep in the arms of a willow woman, her long tresses blowing slowly away from his face as he breathed and hiccupped in his sleep. His mount, quite oppositely, was dancing merrily about as a few of Bacchus' wild girls poured deep red wine down his throat. What debauchery Susan thought to herself.
Presently Lucy, who was sitting quite comfortably between the paws of a rather massive bear, was attempting to re-teach him how to speak. Susan had explained to her that he had probably never spoken, but the young Queen would have none of it, and per usual, had only cast a small smirk Susan's way when the bear growled her name. He spent far too much time pronouncing the u and far too little time pronouncing anything else, but it warranted a rather large round of applause from Lucy. Susan managed to mask her smile, but it took a great deal of effort and lasted only a short period of time.
"Do get him to say my name," she finally relinquished, her delicate feet carrying her instantly to Lucy's side.
"I don't know if he is quite ready for that," Lucy responded, but began her teachings nonetheless.
By the time the party had reached a small town on the outskirts of Beruna, the bear had nearly mastered both of the Queen's names. He often became stuck at the end of Susan's name, obviously quite unsure how to come off of the n, but Susan still believed it to be the most beautiful her name had ever sounded, and was about to tell him so when the hums of screaming stole her words.
"By, Aslan," Lucy said as she peered through the mass of branches surrounding her. "We seem to be in a town, and the people do not seem to be happy about it."
"Truly?" Susan questioned as she pushed the leafy beard of an oak man out of the way. "Spot on Lu—but—oh look!" Lucy did as her sister requested and glanced once again out of the thick wood.
"Some are joining us!" she cried with excitement, and it was as she said. Although most fled into their houses and peeked awkwardly through their windows, a few—mostly children—were leaving their lessons and cheering as they joined the romp.
"I do hope that wild boy doesn't give them wine," Susan said worriedly as she watched the newcomers dancing wildly with Bacchus and his girls.
Once they had cleared the town, they were an even larger and merrier bunch. Susan was busying herself with keeping the children from too much fun, while Lucy was encouraging just the opposite. Finding that no one was taking her seriously, Susan plopped down heavily and took a goblet of gold from the still sleeping form of Silenus. She stared critically at the deep red liquid before shrugging her shoulders and touching the goblet to her lips. It was sweeter than she ever recalled the wine in Narnia being, and downed it only two or three massive gulps. As most do after filling themselves with such a rich drink, Susan hiccupped. Blushing a red near as deep as the wine, she covered her mouth and glanced quickly around. Seeing that her uncivilized moment went completely unnoticed, Susan smiled softly to herself and grabbed another goblet of wine.
Propriety be damned.
Not ten minutes later Susan was sipping merrily on her third glass, her cheeks flushed and her lips stained. "Oh Susan," Lucy giggled as she fell beside her. "Do look. We are in the countryside now. Even more creatures have joined us." Once again it was as Lucy said. Old, tired donkeys brayed with new enthusiasm as they broke away from their pastures and joined Aslan's side. Horses and cows followed as well, the mud from their hooves shooting into the air as they bucked and cantered along.
Wobbling slightly, Susan rose from the ground and ran joyously from the trees with Lucy. The two danced and sang and drank as Aslan led them into another small town not far from Beaversdamn. They came first upon an old schoolhouse, which was currently occupied by a tired-looking girl and an array of boys that looked more pig than human. "Dear Heart," Aslan said as he looked to the girl through the window.
"Oh, don't, don't," she replied as she glanced away from Aslan. "I'd love to, but I mustn't."
"Mustn't what?" one of the pig-like boys commented as he peered out the window, and upon seeing Aslan, fumbled backwards over a desk and ran into the forest screaming. Soon the remaining boys followed, and although it is not absolutely certain, it is said that they were never seen again.
"Now, Dear Heart," Aslan said to the Mistress. With a shout of complete joy, she jumped out of the window and joined them.
It was in this way—dancing and singing and drinking—that Aslan led his followers to the Bridge at Beruna, where he turned to the trees and commanded them to aid their High King. Susan and Lucy watched as the tree people suddenly looked less like people and more like trees, their statures growing tremendously as their twisted branches became hard.
"I'm quite happy I'm not a Telmarine at the moment," Lucy whispered offhandedly to Susan.
The older Queen merely hiccupped in response.
BBBBBB
Whimbleweather fumbled haphazardly forward as he followed Peter's wishes and led all the remaining giants through the throngs of Telmarine soldiers and to the catapults. Behind him the How had long been destroyed, but he was so focused on his task that he had not heard Peter's shouts of protest as he pushed away from the thick of the battle and towards his destination. Although fear was apparent in the eyes of the Telmarines, they still assaulted him with arrows and attempted to tangle his feet with ropes. Because of this, his trip towards the catapults had been long and laborious, but he smiled dumbly as he finally came upon them.
Just as Whimbleweather raised his club into the air, moving roots shot up from the ground and wrapped tightly around the wooden machine before him. He stepped back with a looked of bewilderment and a guttural grunt. Then, quite suddenly, the machines buckled under the pressure and splintered into the air.
Dropping his club in confusion, Whimbleweather looked around. It seemed that all of his giant companions were in much the same predicament. The moment didn't last long, for the forest behind the Telmarines suddenly began to move. Branches swept out and grasped hold of any Telmarine they could reach, while roots rippled across the ground and knocked all that attempted to run from their feet.
Old Narnians looked to one another in astonishment before erupting into cheers so loud that they drowned out the screams of fear coming from the Telmarines. Cara stood protectively beside Glozelle, but it truly was not needed, for the trees seemed to know who was an enemy and who was not.
"For Aslan!" Peter suddenly called out as a horn of retreat sounded from across the valley. All of Old Narnia followed after him, their faces gleaming as they chased the remaining Telmarines from the valley and towards the Bridge of Beruna.
Sopespian reached the bridge first, his horse rearing upon seeing the lone figure of a lion standing calmly on the other side. Around him his soldiers were slowly entering the quiet waters of Beruna, their fear of the trees driving them forward no matter what. Aslan sat on his haunches and waited patiently for Sopespian to ease his horse forward over the bridge. Seeing the lion do nothing, the Lord shoved his sword in the air. "Charge!"
Those that remained on horseback lunged forward and cantered bravely across the bridge, their voices angry as they shouted a battle cry. Aslan slowly rose back to his feet and sucked in a deep breath of air. His roar came deep and threatening as it washed across the land and stilled the hearts of his enemies. Beruna churned instantly, the water gaining speed and fury as it rushed past.
Sopespian's horse stopped immediately, its breathing ragged and apparent between his rider's legs. He moved to urge the horse forward when yells sounded behind him. Glancing over his shoulder he noticed the reason for alarm. Not far off a wall of water was growing as it charged towards the bridge. Filled with panic, Sopespian turned his horse and sped from the bridge.
But it was to no avail, for the wall of water was now upon them. Expecting a bone shattering impact Sopespian rounded his shoulders and hid is head. When an impact did not come, Sopespian peered shyly over his shoulder. A great man was now before them, his limbs and body and hair carved from the water and always moving.
The River God had awakened.
He lunged towards the bridge and looked upon it with glassy eyes. Telmarines dove and leapt into the rushing water, their hearts completely overcome with fear. Suddenly the man disappeared, his watery head and shoulders moving swiftly under the bridge.
Then it cracked. The bridge was no longer feet above Beruna, but yards. The edges shattered and fell as the River God tossed his watery hair over his shoulder and looked back at the hindering contraption clutched between his fingers. Sopespian remained bravely upon his horse, his black eyes staring back into those of the watery beast. He knew death was coming.
The mass of water regarded Sopespian silently before opening his bottomless mouth and devouring the Lord and his steed. Sopespian screamed and covered his head while the bridge shattered completely beneath him. Losing his shape, the River God once again became the quiet water of Beruna.
Silence followed, both Telmarines and Narnians looking quietly between each other. What was to come now? Was it over?
Interrupting the stillness, Sopespian's steed exploded from the water with a shrill whinny and thrashing hooves. After gaining his footing on the slippery rocks below, he calmed his body and walked steadily from the water.
Sopespian was nowhere to be seen.
BBBBBB
I don't know why but this chapter was a beast to write! Well, now it is finis and I can move on to the moments I've been waiting for. I'm thinking that there is about four or five chapters left in this story…maybe less depending on how detailed I go. OH! Chapter 19 might possibly hold a little line or two that may foreshadow what could happen in the future. Just saying.
Anywho. Please review