As dusk fell, the townspeople trickled into the Lantern Grove on the Northwest side of the village. Rayna held tightly onto Niron's hand as they relied on the tall figure of their uncle to cut a path through the crowd.
The clearing was usually silent and empty, but now black Telmarine flags fluttered over dark tents that clustered one edge of the open space. Rayna noticed the tents were pitched far away from the lamppost, backing onto the dense forest.
Lantern Grove with its lone lamppost held no real significance for the people of Lantern Waste. It was mostly a source of horror stories for mothers, warning their children not to wander into the woods, as the top of the unlit lamppost held the home of tiny, evil sprites. Of course, this prompted most children to bet each other to run and touch the lamppost in the centre of the clearing for as long as they dared before running back to their friends, shrieking with delighted fear as they collected penny sweets as a reward.
Rayna used to do this as a child, and she was aware Niron did the same his friends during the summer evenings before it was dark. The adults of the village usually frowned upon this, but nothing harmful came of it unless someone lost themselves in the woods on the way back.
Rayna was glad she had dressed herself well, as all of the villagers had put on their best finery. Farmer Fot had dug out his best cap and Madam Litley had ever gone as far as to place a peacock feather on her hat.
Rayna quietly smoothed down her dress that had been her mother's. It was a deep, leafy green that cinched at the waist and fell gracefully to her ankles. She always rolled up her sleeves as she sometimes assisted Uncle Roy at his inn, but today the sleeves fitted all the way down to her wrists, laced together by delicate gold velvet cords. Her dark hair was pulled out of its usual plait and fell gracefully down her shoulders and back. A tiny golden amulet of a lion's head she had received on her sixteenth birthday hung at the base of her throat.
Rayna had swelled with pride when she'd put her dress on earlier and realised she was finally tall enough to fit it. Uncle Roy nodded his approval and commented that he thought his sister had returned from the dead when Rayna had descended down the stairs.
Rayna turned to speak to her brother but noticed a small lump underneath the back of his shirt. She pulled Niron towards her and sat on her knees to study the lump warily.
"Have you hurt yourself?" she asked concernedly.
"Oh no, it's nothing," Niron mumbled, his cheeks glowing crimson as he tried to twist away from his sister. But as Rayna poked the lump, it's squeaked indignantly. Rayna gasped as Trisket's whiskered little head popped out of Niron's shirt collar for all to see.
"Trisket!" Rayna explained in surprise. Then her face darkened as she realised what her brother had done.
"Niron…" she growled quietly enough for her uncle not to notice. She turned her brother to face her.
"I told you Trisket was to stay at home."
"I tried!" Niron stammered nervously as Trisket poked his head around the boy's neck to look a Rayna innocently. "But he kept on climbing in there, and he looked so scared at being left alone I couldn't help it!"
"Niron, you don't- ah, both of you are in trouble when we get home! Give Trisket to me."
Niron handed over the ferret, his head hung in shame. Rayna unlaced one of her sleeves and the ferret slid up her arm and positioned himself so his head was poking out of the nape of her neck.
"You should feel terrible," Rayna hissed at the unabashed ferret quietly enough for no one to hear, "Niron had no idea you knew what happening here, and the King hates talking animals. You could get my family arrested if you are discovered here tonight!"
Trisket's fur bristled. "I am not one of your dumb animals Rayna. I am a free talking animal that can come and go wherever he pleases. And don't worry; I didn't say a single word to Niron. He still thinks I'm simply your…" his whiskers twitched in distaste as he finished his sentence, "… pet."
"Why are you so interested in seeing the King anyway?"
"War politics. It's one of my favourite subjects! I also don't trust you not to drift off in case anything important happens, you have a terrible habit of doing that."
"Did you say something?" Uncle Roy looked quizzically over his shoulder at Rayna.
"Not at all Uncle, you must be imagining things," Rayna smiled sweetly.
A hush fell over the village as the two soldiers marched from the tents, carrying a carved wooden throne with black, velvet seats and placed it in front of the lamppost. Another tent flap opened, and two men emerged. One was young and pale, with a small goatee curled around his chin and watery, darting eyes that looked over the village that seemed hungry.
Rayna felt a small shiver down her spine when she looked at him. He reminded her of a snake, silently clever who seemed tranquil, but would deliver a deadly bite as soon as your back was turned.
The other man held the air of a wise scholar, but a scholar whose knowledge lay in dark secrets and black lore. His eyes were a cold iron grey that held no emotion – he was in the business of politics, and politics had no place for feelings. His hair and beard were oiled elegantly, and his perfected look with his dark aura made him an intimidating man.
As the tent flap opened, the entire village seemed to hold its breath. Rayna felt Niron clutch onto her hand nervously. She reassuringly squeezed her brother's fingers, and glanced at her uncle, who remained perfectly still, but his eyes had a steely glint to them.
Only Trisket seemed undisturbed. He nosed his way slightly further over Rayna's shoulder, and watched carefully as the village held its breath as they all caught their first glimpse of the mad king.
Every fibre in Rayna's body screamed to run as a huge man strode towards the villagers before casually reclining against his throne to regard his people. This was not the frail, greying man she had imagined in her head; he looked a battle worn warrior whilst a crazed glint rested in his eyes, waiting to be provoked so the king could unleash his powerful insanity to anyone who crossed him.
An owl hooted overhead and the moon peered over the trees. Torches were lit around the king and villagers to penetrate the onyx night.
Silence ensued. Nobody dared to move as their own monarch sized them up, seeing if any trace of the rebellion had found its way into their homes.
"Tonight," Trisket breathed into Rayna's ear, "is going to change the people of Lantern Waste forever."
The owl floated silently past the moon as it flew to a score of trees. It landed on a broad tree branch and clicked its beak, searching the area for a mouse or a rat for dinner.
When the owl was sure it wasn't being followed, it travelled slightly further north and landed on the mossy ground below.
"Miraz has arrived, Your Majesties," she hooted softly, "I shall continue scouting from above and hear what he is saying. There is an advisor whom I do not recognise. He is young."
The bushes rustled and three faces emerged from the bush. Two were girls, with the same noses and the same blue eyes, the other being a young man, with the slight features of a boy still remaining in his face. The youngest girl thanked the owl for her good work this evening.
"Not at all, Queen Valiant." The owl raised a wing to salute the team. "I can only hope that what Miraz is planning is simply delivering speech to the our loyal villagers to gain their support during this war, and he isn't planning anything else."
She then took to the sky and soared back towards Lantern Grove. The boy shook his head tiredly.
"Of all the villages he had to chose," he muttered as he concentrated on pointing his looking glass towards the clearing, "he had to choose the one that was most loyal to our cause. I really need to thank Edmund again for letting us use this, your world really has the most amazing inventions."
"Narnia is our world now," the older girl said as tied her hair tightly into a bun as she tried to work out what was going on in the clearing, "and Lucy, please get off my foot, you're giving me pins and needles."
"Sorry Sue," Lucy muttered as she shifted her position, "what do you think is going to happen here tonight Caspian?"
"Who knows?" Caspian pulled the looking glass away from his eye as he regarded his two friends. "Miraz hasn't left his castle unless it's to engage in battle for seven years. I just hope he hasn't got a plan up his sleeve that can change the lives of these villagers in any way. Now quiet, girls. We need to concentrate."