A/N The mention of electrum is not, I repeat not a self-insert! Honest! The idea of Peter and Edmund's armor being made at Aslan's command comes from Almyra's story The Armor of Aslan. If you haven't read it, you should!
Chapter Fourteen: Traitors
I must admit that it was difficult not to show off before Brickit. Surrounded as I was by soldiers, though, I knew that if a single gesture or useless order got back to Oreius I would be feeling the general's gentle correction in the form of a firm smack in the head that had nothing to do with the Centaur's affection and everything to do with wasting time and energy. Besides, there were better ways to prove myself to the Dwarf.
He clung to my belt tightly and eventually gave up complaining about being bounced about. Used to the motion of horse and rider after a little while, he instead launched into a biased analysis of my crown and armor.
"That's not silver you're wearing on that dense head of yours," he called.
"Oh?" I asked, glancing back over my shoulder. He was rather red in the face. "I wondered that it never tarnished."
"It's an alloy of gold and silver. It's valued above gold and jewels because it occurs so rarely in nature. Electrum it's named. It's found just east of Beruna, in the mines beneath Culros' Tower."
"I haven't seen that yet."
"Nor I, I just know that's where them shifty-eyed eastern clans get their precious metals."
I grinned at his description and assumptions as he started telling me how my mail could have been made better. It was a short and resentful list, which told me the Dwarf smiths that had fashioned this suit - and that at Aslan's express command - had done an outstanding job.
"Oi, ya nag! Stop aiming for every bump and dip in the path" snapped Brickit, swatting at Phillip. "I saw that! That was a'purpose!"
As we rode along the Blue River towards Lithin many greetings were called out as we were recognized – Dryads and Nymphs and Talking Animals and Birds sang out to us and we soldiers answered in like tones. Brickit ignored all the greetings called out to him and concentrated on being moody. Naiads appeared in the waters and playfully splashed the soldiers and flirted so outrageously that Lt. Silverwing hissed and landed in the river just to scold them. I just laughed, knowing he'd have no effect on their spirits and that he'd probably lose his voice in the process.
The cob caught up with us in a few minutes, looking grumpy and ruffled enough to rival the Dwarf riding pillion behind me. I knew he'd failed in his mission against the Naiads. Waving him forward to join me, I said,
"We're almost there. Do you know exactly where these families live?"
Flenleel looked back at the archers and a Faun hurried forward. "I am familiar with the area, King Edmund, and I can lead us to them."
"Not directly," I decided. "Lead us around Lithin. My brother asked us to make a small show of force and good will. We'll ask about for them. Let word spread." I looked at Brickit. "Walk or ride?"
"Walk, Spawn. Aslan did not make Dwarfs to be parted from the earth."
We walked. Brickit kept close and growled impatiently at Phillip. The Horse had taken a shine to the Dwarf (or perhaps he simply enjoyed annoying him) and spent a good deal of time sniffing and nuzzling him and making a pest of himself as only Horses can. It was very entertaining from my perspective. I asked almost everyone we met if they knew where the families of the Lithin Satyrs dwelt. Many people looked surprised or uncomfortable or a little ashamed and directed us to the northwest and the caves there. I smiled pleasantly and thanked everyone and left a sense of guilt in my wake, though I rebuked no one. These Narnians knew their own failings.
One old Faun, clearly one of the ringleaders against the families, snorted at us. "I know why you're here," he snapped, stamping a hoof and pointing at me. "You think we'll accept them! Forgive them! They're the sons of traitors and deserve what they get!"
I froze, my heart skipping a beat, and I felt myself go a little pale. As I turned to face him, I thought of Peter and the pacific calm my brother displayed when confronting such ignorance and inflexibility. I had seen him do it a hundred times on my account and now I drew upon his example. Do not react, I heard my brother's firm voice in my head as I looked for the right words, but defend yourself without growing defensive, Ed. I took a deep breath and kept my features bland, but when I spoke my voice was loud enough for everyone to hear.
"So what will you call my sons?"
The old Faun's eyes grew huge as he realized exactly what he had said and to whom. I waited. I could feel Phillip seething in fury and I knew the Horse and many of the soldiers were glaring at the Faun. Silverwing hissed dangerously. Brickit watched through narrowed eyes, his arms folded tight across his chest. The tension became almost unbearable.
"I beg your pardon, King Edmund," the old Faun stammered, unable to meet my eye any longer. He bowed his grizzled head in shame.
I thanked Peter a thousand times over in my thoughts as I quoted him directly. "It's not my pardon you need to beg, sir," I said, and I knew my brother would be proud of me.
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My spirits were dampened somewhat after challenging the old Faun. Such confrontations were growing fewer in number, but they were always draining and left me shaken. Peter's sterling example had taught me that facing the truth squarely usually resulted with the accuser feeling embarrassed for their conduct, such as in this case, and repetition had eased my own reactions. We stopped a distance away from the scene and I took a moment to collect myself. Leaning my head on Phillip's neck, I made myself match the Horse's long, slow breaths and let calmness and balance return. Idly, I combed his mane with my fingers, the gesture an almost unconscious need to touch someone dear to me. I wondered at myself, for a year ago I would not have done anything so demonstrative. Still, learning to show affection like this was worth a thousand battles with the likes of the old Faun, and Peter's loyalty and faith in me was my foundation.
"Better?" Phillip pressed, nudging me with his nose.
"Much," I replied, managing a bit of a smile.
Brickit was unusually quiet as we made our way to the caves, but I was aware that he was watching me closely, gauging me and my conduct here in my domain versus his.
There were five families in all. The caves they inhabited were snug affairs, not unlike Mr. Tumnus' home, but not nearly as well furnished. I was not surprised to see that the wives and daughters of the Lithin Satyrs were Nymphs and the sons were Satyrs. When Nymphs bear sons they are always the same race as the father while the daughters take after their mothers, which is why there are no female Satyrs or Fauns and no male Nymphs. The wives of the Lithins were unusually grave for Nymphs as they stepped out into the sunlight to greet us. To me they curtsied, all of them very curious and nervous and perhaps even a little frightened.
"Good day, ladies," I said. "I hope we are not disturbing you."
"Not at all, King Edmund," said one of them, a tired-looking girl with pale blue skin and hair. Her clothes were very worn and she looked as if she could use a healthier diet. "May I ask why you have come?"
"Because you need me."
And she burst into tears.
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We stayed a few hours with the Nymphs, meeting their families and listening to what they would tell us. I sent the soldiers to collect some wood to restock their depleted supply of fuel and I gave the Faun archer a handful of silver Trees to get them enough food to last a long while. The gold Lions I distributed among the wives. As it turned out, not all the neighbors judged them as harshly as the old Faun, but there were enough people of his way of thinking to make their lives very difficult and their future uncertain.
"My sister Susan will be here in three or four days," I promised them. "She'll be better able to sort out the schooling issues and making sure that you are left in peace."
"We did not agree with our husbands' views," said one of the Nymphs as we sat in her cave drinking tea. Like her blue-skinned sister, she looked weary and spent. "We did not see the White Witch as our queen. But they were still our husbands and they provided for us."
"We'll do everything we can to help."
She smiled as she looked through the open door. A number of small Animals had gathered on the edge of the clearing. Some looked curious and some looked contrite and a few carried bundles or baskets.
"You've already done a great deal, Sire."
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I had Brickit back at the Blue River Smithy before sunset. He had been very closemouthed on the ride back and I suspected he was as lost in thought as I was. The few children of the smithy were lined up to meet us and to see the exotic-looking soldiers in the troop, for Swans and Zebras and Lions usually preferred to stay in more open areas. I think the Animals were equally curious. Dwarf children are rarely seen because they do not leave their homes until they are adults.
"You'll head back tonight?" I asked Flenleel as I assisted Brickit down from Phillip's back. The Chief Smith grunted and stretched his sore legs, complaining as he walked about stiffly. Phillip nuzzled at the back of Brickit's neck, producing a sputtered curse from the startled Dwarf.
Silverwing nodded to me, ducking his head low as we both ignored the many variations of the word 'nag' being thrown at my mount.
"Good. Be careful. Give me a moment to get this armor off and Phillip can carry it back for me. Give a full report to the High King and the queens. They'll want to know every detail." Both of my journey to Lithin and of my condition and progress here, of that I was certain.
"You're not returning?" asked Phillip, laying off of teasing the Chief Smith.
I grinned, for Brickit had grown still, listening even as he pretended not to.
"Not yet. Not until I'm done."
And when the Black Dwarf moaned and cursed his ill fortune at his inability to rid himself of this useless presence cluttering up his smithy, I knew he was well pleased.