Chapter Twenty-One: Trade Agreements

My thanks to Estriel for naming the bats and to Miniver for all her help!

Julie has made some amazing and wonderful artwork to accompany this chapter. Please check my profile for the link to her deviantART page to see Peter and the baby bats!

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To Queen Susan the Gentle, Mistress of the South, etc. from Brickit, Chief Smith of the Blue River Smithy, greeting!

Understanding, as you must, the trials and burdens assumed when one becomes the elder sibling of a wearisome and obnoxious brother, I approach Your Majesty with a sympathetic proposal equal parts recommendation and request in reference to your younger brother Edmund, King of Narnia. Blessed as you have been with a fine, upright, restive, spruce, and extremely compassionate elder brother in the form of High King Peter, if it please Your Majesty I beg you to consider leaving Edmund here at my smithy, thereby ridding yourself of his tiresome humor while at the same time providing him with food, shelter, and the means to learn an honorable trade, for I tell you plainly the lad has a shining future as a Master Smith.

I beg Your Majesty consider this offer.

Brickit, Chief Smith of the Blue River Smithy

I stared at the document in open astonishment, unable to keep an amazed laugh from passing my lips. Looking at Lucy as she perused her own letter from the Chief Smith, I wondered if she had received a similar offer. Her face was puckered into a frown as she mouthed some poorly spelt word or worked through the Dwarf's bad penmanship and I knew that her message had to rival mine for audacity and nerve.

The Fruit Bats employed by Edmund to be his couriers while at the smithy had unexpectedly returned just an hour or so ago while we were holding court. They had delivered their letters to Sir Giles Fox, our chamberlain, and hurried off to enjoy the local caves before their return to the Blue River. At first we had thought Edmund had written again, but when the letters turned out to be from Brickit I had at first been concerned and now . . . now I didn't know what to think.

Lucy raised her eyes from the parchment, stuck dumb with amazement for a moment. When finally she found her voice, it came out in a squeak.

"It's from Brickit! He wants to trade his brother for Edmund!"

"What?" I laughed. "He asked me if he could keep him!"

We looked at each other and burst out giggling. I handed Lucy my letter and she gave me hers. It was an equally verbose offer to trade Brint for Edmund, and like my note it detailed the advantages to be gained by having a master smith around and the joys of not having the likes of our annoying brother (Brickit's words) cluttering up the Cair.

"Is he serious?" wondered Lucy.

I shook my head, unable to reply. The Chief Smith may very well be in earnest, but we certainly couldn't take him that way.

"What's so funny?" asked Peter, striding into the sitting room. He smiled to see our amusement and poured himself some wine.

"Here," I said, handing him the letter with his name scrawled across it. Peter frowned as he recognized the handwriting, but spotting similar letters in our hands and going by our reactions he knew something was amiss but that nothing was wrong with Edmund. He dropped into a chair and sipped his wine and started reading his letter.

A moment later he almost spewed the wine out as he started coughing and choking and trying to breathe again. I hurried over and gave him a few sharp blows on the back. Recovering, Peter stared at the paper, absolutely taken aback, and finally he tore himself away from Brickit's letter to gaze up at us. His gaping expression was very comical and I knew my own face had to be a close reflection of his. I held up my letter.

"He's asking to keep Edmund."

Lucy piped up, waving her own note. "He asked to trade his brother for ours."

Peter shook his head and finally managed to say in a raspy gasp, "He asking to buy him from us!"

We stared at each other for a moment, not a one of us sure how to react to these outrageous and ridiculous offers. Then Lucy giggled, and I felt my own shoulders shake as I asked,

"So how much is Ed worth?"

"Susan!" cried Peter, scandalized. He realized a moment later that I was teasing and he burst out laughing as well. He read his letter again, his amusement growing. "At least he said please."

"Asking to buy him is a bit much," Lucy replied.

Peter collected the letters and read them all. He muttered and fumed and finally exclaimed, "Restive? Spruce? What on earth has Edmund been telling them about me? And does this chap actually think we'd part with our brother?"

"Probably not," I reasoned. "I mean, do you actually think he spoke to Edmund first?"

Lucy giggled and Peter smirked. "A very good point. Obviously he didn't since Edmund seems convinced the beer there is poisonous."

"Really, we should send him some good beer from the cellars," Lucy suggested. She leaned over Peter's chair and read from his letter. ". . . pray that you name a fair price in gold and weapons and other valuables for the continued presence and service of your brother, Edmund." She gave Peter her best wide-eyed and innocent look. "What would Ed say?"

"Just that Brickit could never afford him," Peter returned. "At least, never afford to feed him."

We all enjoyed the moment and the sheer absurdity of Brickit's proposals when Marin, one of Peter's Cat pages, slid into the room.

"Majesties, your pardon," she lisped. "Couriers have arrived for King Peter from the Blue River Smithy. The message is from King Edmund."

Peter was in high spirits as he smiled at the tabby. "Send the couriers in please, Marin. I can't wait to hear what he thinks about Brickit's notion of keeping him," he added quietly as the Cat moved towards the door.

"Wait! Slow down!" she called suddenly, and we all looked up.

A moment later the room was full of excited, clumsy, squeaking Fruit Bats that didn't have the sense to pick a spot to land, but flapped about the room and knocked into things and each other. There were six of them, but from the racket they made there seemed to be many more and Lucy and I ducked for cover. For a moment there was pandemonium, and then Peter jumped to his feet and caught one of the Bats in both hands.

"Silence!" he ordered. "All of you! That's enough! Land now! This is no way to conduct yourselves!"

He had the disadvantage of being the tallest thing in the room. Bats being Bats, they all swooped in and landed on him from every direction, covering him from head to waist in fuzzy black.

"Ow! Stop that!" he ordered as one of the Bats tugged on his hair.

"It's real!" exclaimed the Bat, ignoring the order for a moment. "Zante, Corinth, look! It's real!" Little sounds of awe rose up and the couriers completely forgot their duty in light of examining Peter's hair for themselves.

Peter sighed and in a monotone said, "I refuse to believe I'm the only blond in the history of Narnia."

Suppressing a smile, I went to his rescue. I helped the Bats untangle themselves from his clothes and each other and set them around the room. It occurred to me that they were rather small and young. They were all very eager and happy and charmingly curious and they left Peter disheveled and a little irked, with one juvenile Bat still on his hands.

"What name has your mother blessed you with, lady?" asked he, holding the Bat at eye level.

"Sultana," said she, bowing her head as she realized in whose hands she rested.

"Welcome to Cair Paravel. I believe you have a message for me."

She remembered the tightly folded letter she clutched in her claws, and I saw her grip on it tighten. "I do, King Peter. It's from your brother."

"May I have it, please?"

"Not yet, Sire. King Edmund told me I was not to give it to you until you were seated and promised not to panic."

"What?" he demanded instantly. "Panic?"

"King Edmund made me promise to make you promise," she said in a small voice.

Thoroughly fed up, Peter was about to protest when I simply said, "Peter." It was not Sultana's fault that Edmund knew his older brother so well.

He drew a deep breath, mastered his impatience and anxiety, and resumed his seat. "I promise I will not panic."

She handed over the letter and he set her down on the nearby table. Hastily he tore open Edmund's message and I saw him blanch and suck in his breath as he read the first few words. Unconsciously, he slowly stood. I knew he wanted to pace, but little Sultana piped,

"You promised, Sire!"

"What?" he wondered, completely distracted.

"Sit, Peter," I reminded softly.

"Oh." He dropped down again on the foot rest before the chair, eyes locked on the document. Three seconds later he stood and started to stride across the room, his voice rising up. "Lion's mane!"

"Peter!" Lucy admonished. She pointed at the frightened Bats.

With a little growl he sat on the window ledge. As we watched him read the letter, he went from pale with fear to red with emotion and I could only imagine what Edmund had to say. I turned to the couriers, suspecting they could be very easily distracted.

"Why don't you go rest before you return to the Blue River? The page Marin can direct you to food and a place to rest."

"Can we see the Eastern Sea?" one of the Bats exclaimed, and immediately they all clamored to see the ocean.

"Ask Marin to show you," I replied.

They enthusiastically swooped off in search of their duly appointed Cat guide. I closed the door and then Lucy and I stood close and regarded Narnia's High King. There was a tumult of emotion on his face - relief, anxiety, desolation. I felt my heart go out to him and taking Lucy's hand; we settled on either side of him and leaned close.

"He won't be back for another week," Peter said dully. "He's not quite done."

I felt a pang of disappointment, but I suspected it would take more than that to generate such a strong reaction out of Peter. "Is that what's upset you so?" I pressed.

He shook his head, looking up at me. When he spoke, his voice was soft and conveyed so much more than mere words ever could. "The Werewulf. The one I'd been warning them about. It attacked the smithy."

I gasped, and Lucy echoed the sound.

"Was Edmund hurt?" we both demanded.

"Scratches, nothing serious. Here. Read for yourselves."

He handed over the letter and Lucy came to my side to read. Peter let out a sigh and rubbed his temples and I knew he was well on his way to a headache.

"He's well, Peter," I said, knowing the source of his distress. "He hasn't been hurt. You did what you could and Edmund and the Dwarfs did what they had to."

He let out a shuddering breath and Lucy, dear sister, twined her arms around his waist to comfort him. He bent over and held her tight.

"You miss him," Lucy stated simply, and Peter nodded. She looked up at him, trying to lighten his mood and get him to smile. "Even though he snores?"

"Especially because he snores," Peter said quietly. "Then at least I know he's right there."

Oh, Peter. How well he loved his only brother. I smiled and joined their little knot, resting my cheek against Peter's shoulder. We all missed Edmund. By his own words he missed us as well, but I had a great sense of pride that he was seeing this challenge through. Clearly the Dwarfs adored him enough to try to keep him there. I smiled at the notion and then smiled at my elder brother, knowing he held the same pride for Edmund.

"He's doing very well," Lucy consoled.

Said Peter, "I knew that he would."

"Well," I replied, resolving myself, "If he's not back in a week, I say we go and get him. He's had enough fun."

To my relief, Peter smiled faintly. "Fun? I don't know if he's exactly having fun, Su, but whatever he's having I'm sure that by the end of the week he'll have had quite enough."