2.
Cold spread from the stone to their backs as they pressed up against the boulder. Their knuckles were white as they tightened their grips on their swords. Somewhere above and to the north, the sound of furious roarings reached them, bellows and howls, and then screams that might belong to men or fauns or talking beasts. Both the men clenched their jaws and waited until the sound abated. The one with brown hair looked as if he wanted to spring out and do something about the sound, but the other one held him back. When the noise was less, the younger turned to the elder.
"The letters we received said nothing of this."
The older one gave him a wan smile.
"Didn't want to worry you and the others."
The younger one let out a short laugh and leaned his head back against the rock.
"Worry us? It's a little late for that. Don't tell me it's been like this the whole time?"
His brother's silence answered that question well enough. The younger one opened his mouth to speak, but before he could, a huge rock hurtled through the air and smashed itself on the boulder against which the men were standing. The boulder shook as though the earth quaked, shards of stone ricocheted and caused both the men to throw up their hands to defend their faces.
With a great rippling of wings, a falcon dodged a stone in the air and swooped to land on the fair haired king's arm, which he raised to it.
"Sire," the bird gasped, breathing heavily, "the giants are attacking the left wing. We've incurred heavy losses. General Stonecloud asks that you order a retreat."
The fair man lowered his head and sighed so deeply that his shoulders drooped as if he was under a burden as heavy as the losses his army had received. He sheathed his sword and nodded at the falcon.
"Thank you, Garwing. I was just explaining to my brother why it is imperative that he return to the Cair." The king said this with a stern look at his younger brother.
The younger brother ignored him, instead speaking to the falcon. "Tell Stonecloud to give the order for retreat. We'll regroup under shelter of these cliffs and renew the attack in an hour."
As the falcon took flight, the fair king let out a cry and turned to his brother with a look. "You are not staying, brother. What should happen if both kings of Narnia were killed in one fell blow? I would not leave Susan and Lucy under such a burden."
"Nor would I," the younger replied. "But Peter—you're wounded. You haven't had a proper night's sleep or meal in two weeks at least. Protesting that you're right as rain in every letter you send us (despite the fact you're in the middle of a war and couldn't possibly be right as rain) is madness!"
"Edmund…"
The elder leaned against the boulder and rubbed his forehead, looking a good ten years older than he really was. He shifted his weight, because his leg ached.
"Peter," the younger king said gently, gripping his brother's shoulder, "you don't have to bear these burdens alone."
The fair haired king caught his breath and looked up to meet the other's steady gaze. The younger smiled at him and shook his head. "Why else do you think are four of us?"