Chapter Twenty-Seven: Bid Me Not Farewell
"I need a drink."
Brickit chuckled as I sank down onto the bench once again, the knife clasped in my sweaty hand. Save for me and the Chief Smith, the long house was empty. The masters returned to their work shops. Gran had returned to her own chores. Brickit poured us each a cup of small beer and then dropped down beside me.
"It's never easy," he soothed. "That went smoother than I thought it would, though."
"Smooth," I echoed, forcing down a mouthful of beer. I grimaced. "What have I ever done to Barret?"
He snorted, amused. "You were born, lad. You've met his brother, our cousin. They both resent the existence of anyone that's not a Black Dwarf, they resent the fact that you're here, and they resent the fact that I've adopted you into this clan."
I eyed him keenly over the top of my cup. "Did you adopt me just to annoy them?"
He laughed. "No. No. Not entirely," he muttered, hastily taking a sip.
"Ha!" I exclaimed, elbowing him. He laughed into his beer.
"We've a saying in these parts, a saying my cousins are learning is very true, and that being it's easier to catch the lion than to let him go. Barret caught a larger one than he anticipated, and he's fortunate to emerge with his hide intact."
I thought of Boont and her simmering fury, and I had to agree.
"So," the Chief Smith said, looking over at me, "I take it we can expect to be up to our waists in soldiers tomorrow, sent by Nancy to make certain you get home without any scraped knees or dings?"
"Yes, they should be here on the morrow, but based on your height there won't be that many soldiers, Brickit. Won't you be glad to be rid of me?"
"No," he replied. "I've gotten used to your noxious presence."
"Your charm overwhelms."
"As does yours, Spawn." He clapped me on the knee. "Away with your knife, lad, then get thee to work. This is a smithy, not a tavern, and we must earn our keep."
I smirked, finishing my beer in one swallow, then I rose and followed Brickit to the door. We both shouted in surprise when dozens of huge, dark objects poured into the long house and flapped around noisily, all of them calling out to us and each other in piercing tones. The Fruit Bat couriers had returned from Cair Paravel.
I stumbled back into the table as something hit me squarely in the chest. I looked down to see Sultana clinging to my tunic and grinning up at me, well pleased with herself. More of the younger bats alighted on my shoulders and back as Brickit bellowed at the rest of them to land. An instant later I got slapped in the face with a large, delicate wing as a Bat set down on my head, clinging to my hair. It took a few moments, but finally all the Bats had landed about us and the room. A great swirl of dust filled the air, knocked down from the rafters and the thatch.
"We're back!" Sultana exclaimed breathlessly.
"Really?" I couldn't keep the sarcasm out of my voice.
She nodded. I could hear Brickit fussing and fuming at the older couriers ranged along the rafters. One of the little Bats dropped down to the table and stuck his head in our abandoned cups, looking for the last drops of beer.
"And did you deliver my letter?" I asked, trying to shoo the Bat away from the beer.
Another nod, and all the little Bats felt the need to tell me every detail all at the same time so in just a few moments I got the entire tale in a nutshell. I had known Peter would be so upset. Oh, well, that just mean I would have to put up with his fretting and delayed reactions to his only brother being imperiled.
"Did you see the Eastern Sea?" I asked, interrupting a description of the fruits available at Cair Paravel.
"We got wet!" they squeaked happily. "It's salty! We can't swim!"
"Do tell." Why wasn't I surprised that they would try?
"Look! See? It's really real!" said the Bat on my head, and he leaned over into my face to display his prize. I stared at the scattering of fair tendrils he clasped in his paw. First I was astonished, then I was horrified.
"You tore out my brother's hair?" I exclaimed. "That is - You are never to do such a thing again! And what do you intend to do with that? Oh, don't tell me. Whatever it is, it's disgusting."
Clinging to his tangled prize, the Bat giggled. They all did. I put my hands on my hips, but it's rather hard to be stern or forceful when enveloped in Fruit Bats.
"And why didn't you tell me you're not from the family Phillip asked to help me?"
Completely unimpressed by my anger, they exchanged confused looks (except for the one on the table, whose head and shoulders were deep inside Brickit's cup) and Sultana said,
"You didn't ask."
I sighed. I would have rubbed my head but there was already a Bat there. "Well, your families are worried. You'll have to go home directly. Thank you for delivering the letter for me, but next time you have to let me know if you're allowed to leave this area or not. Agreed?"
They nodded, delighted at the prospect of a next time.
"And there is to be no pulling out of hair ever again."
"Nfff," muttered my disappointed hat, easing his grip on my bangs.
"Come along." I scooped up the drunkard and ducked outside. "Home with you! All of you!"
They giggled and called good-byes as they flapped off. Well, all except for the one I held. I recognized that cheeky grin. I was tempted to pitch him in the air, but with my luck he was too drunk to fly and would just plummet back to the earth.
"This is a habit you need to break, sir," I said. I set him down on a bench outside the long house. "I expect you gone when I get back here later." He just rolled over and spread his wings out to catch the morning sun, asleep instantly. I sighed, then looked up as Brickit exited the long house, one of the couriers - the real couriers - hanging from his arm.
"Ah, well, never hurts to ask," he was saying, and for the first time in my life I saw a Bat shrug. I remembered then that Brickit had written to my brother and sisters and I was immediately curious as to what he was talking about. A moment later, though, at some unseen signal, all the Fruit Bats swooped out of the building and into the sky, black against blue. Brickit caught up the Bat on his arm and gently tossed him upwards, calling,
"Aslan between you and evil!"
"What doesn't hurt to ask?" I wondered, eyeing him closely.
He cast me a smug, sidelong look. "Questions," was all he said, not about to enlighten me. "Get on now, Spawn."
OoOoOoOoOoOoO
That evening we celebrated with food and spirits and music. Gran said they always honored an apprentice whose work was accepted by the masters, but Brint said they were just happy to be ridding themselves of me. I suspected that most people's attitudes - the apprentices in particular - fell somewhere in the middle. The meal was less organized and noisier than usual. There was a wider variety of food than I had seen before and for once the meat wasn't stewed but roasted. The table was heavy with game pies and fish caught in the river and great, round loaves of bread and seed cakes and nut cakes and all sorts of pastries and cheeses. There was even wine - or so that's what the Dwarfs called it. It was almost as clear as water and tasted like turnips and for the first time I found myself wishing for their small beer. I contrived to knock my cup over and after cleaning the spill I hastily reverted to the bitter, grainy drink that was slightly less awful then the wine.
A grumbling from Bort's direction told me that this feast was, perhaps, a bit more elaborate than usual, but one of the Daughters hit him with a tray and reminded him that I was also a king and a guest. No one but the most steadfast Black Dwarf (in this case, Barret, who left as soon as he had eaten) could not have enjoyed the gathering and presently the apprentices got over their muttering and threw themselves into the festivities. I made it a point to thank all the masters and I even met Beal's daughters, Bess and Belleel. Both girls blushed and curtsied to me, shy as they faced me. I praised the elder girl's daring in fending off the Werewulf with her pitchfork and for stabbing him in the leg, then hastily heaped some praise on the younger girl for screaming so loudly to rouse the whole smithy. Beal listened with quiet pride, his gratitude and pleasure plain upon his face.
As I stepped away from them to greet Boont I was struck by a pang of regret that I would be leaving tomorrow. I realized I didn't know half of these good Dwarfs as well as I would have liked. I think that if I hadn't already negotiated my return next year that I would have found any excuse to return. I recalled my dream of Aslan and I was suddenly doubly grateful that I had stayed. If I hadn't I never would have made the knife or gained such allies in the masters or made Brickit so happy, nor would I have learned so much about being a diplomat.
One of the apprentices began reciting the family tree and most everyone fell silent to listen and wait for mistakes in its telling. I listened closer this time, rather amazed that anyone could keep so many names and generations straight. Bad enough I had to learn all the kings and queens of Narnia! There weren't nearly as many monarchs as Black Dwarfs over the past thousand years. When the apprentice, so young that he didn't even have a beard yet, missed a name, there was a good-natured roar through the house as everyone pounced on the error. I laughed along with the rest of them and drank his health. Then someone produced a lute and began to play. The Dwarfs that weren't eating burst into song, a loud and raucous and not very melodic sound filling the long house. Since I didn't know the words, I just ate more and let myself be entertained.
The Daughters of the Clan all gathered together and sang a song of springtime, and Brack stood on his bench and gave us a silly piece about a Squirrel that was burying acorns and was annoyed because he kept finding gold wherever he dug. More individuals sang then, sometimes alone, sometimes in groups. The songs were simple, as were the melodies, and most of them I had never heard before. I was thinking of how much Lucy would enjoy this when Brickit plopped down beside me and said,
"Give us a song, Edmund of Clan Welent!"
"What?" I blinked, caught completely off guard.
Brickit grinned, realizing he'd surprised me with such a request. "A song! Surely you can sing! By Aslan, you can't be any worse than my brother!"
He had a very good point. Brint sang like a Horse. No, he was worse. I stared, trying to think, and my traitorous brain went completely blank as more of the Dwarfs caught up the Chief Smith's request and called for me to sing. Slowly I stood, for our Dryad voice instructor insisted that we always stand to sing, and I automatically clasped my hands together, one atop the other and held at the waist. I tried to think of a song, of anything to give them. A hush fell and they all looked to me in expectation.
"Um . . ."
I floundered. In an attempt to help, the lute player picked out a few random notes and by lucky chance hit on a chord that jogged my memory. One of the last songs I had learned before leaving Cair Paravel sprang to mind and I happily seized upon it. The song was very old, a poem set to music in a style that had been popular in the Fourth Century. The style was whimsically called 'hurry and wait.' It was very expressive, each stanza sung at a leisurely pace and the chorus slightly faster and more melodic. I drew a deep breath, grateful for the first time that I had been blessed by a good voice and the inability to forget song lyrics once learned, and I began to sing.
"I beg you bid me not farewell
Bid me fortune on my journey.
For the span I dwelt 'neath your peaceful spell
Was spent in blessed company.
But time it flows
and ceases not
I leave, my love,
to seek my lot.
So bid me not a fond farewell
Ask the Lion to bless my journey."
I abruptly realized I was singing a love song. Sweet Aslan, could I have picked anything less appropriate for this setting? The lute player managed for a while to accompany me, but gradually he fell off and just listened. I certainly couldn't stop now, so I cast my apprehensions to the wind and let the song fill the silence, praying that this was not the moment my voice chose to break.
"The fairest treasure in all the land
has begged me one more day to stay.
But 'round her finger a golden band
is my promise to return one day.
For time it flows
in ceaseless stream
let memory serve
to preserve this dream.
So kiss me now, bid me not farewell
Beg the Lion to bless my journey."
I held the last note, letting it fade as I'd been taught. As I dropped my hands there was not a sound. No one moved. Every eye in the place was fastened on me with an intensity I could feel. Suddenly self-conscious, I wondered at their reaction and if I had somehow offended them. I looked to Brickit. He had his hand pressed to his mouth and his face downcast. His eyes were closed, and to my shock and grief I realized he was fighting a losing battle against his tears. I stole a glance at the assembled Dwarfs and I realized Brickit was not alone in his reaction.
What had I done? What had I said? I searched for Gran in the crowd, but she was leaning into Bly's shoulder, her face hidden. Still, no one made a noise or moved and I felt confusion and panic grow in my breast. I looked around, wishing someone, anyone would make a sound.
"I'm sorry," I finally managed, unable to endure the pain I had unwittingly caused. "Sorry," I mumbled as I clambered over the bench pinning my legs and bolted out the door.