AN: I've gotten some comments on the name Chrysophylax. For the record, I stole the name (Greek, lit. "gold-guard") from the inimitable J.R.R. Tolkien, whose dragon Chrysophylax Dives appeared in "Farmer Giles of Ham." Milophylax is my own invention, and means "apple-guard."

Second, when Peter was a baby and toddler, he terrified his mum by climbing things, and it was only in Narnia that he developed his deathly fear of heights. The details of the specific incident are another story, which may be found here: www. fanfiction. net s/8176095/4/Golden-Age-Tales

Extract from the private diary of Cadmian, Scribe to Chief Belisan, King of Telmar:
Chief Belisan reached for his silver goblet and took a swig of rum. "But the pompous lubbers aren't declaring war on us."
"No, sir."
"They're coming to visit."
"Aye, sir."
"With a dragon."
"Aye, sir."
"And that snow-queen?" They'd been over this already.
"Fallen, sir, like your enemies."
He smiled. "Right then. Take down this answer. 'Belisan, Chief of Telmar, King of the Mountains, Captain of the Telmarines—How many names did that high-falutin' matey string together?"
"Four, sir."
"Calls himself a Knight?"
"Aye, sir. 'Knight of the Most Noble Order of the Lion.'"
He scowled. "Well, then. Put me down as 'Knight of the Exalted Order of the Wild Hawk'."
~ Recorded by Cadmian in the thirty-fourth year of Chief Belisan

VIII.
Narnia
The First Year of High King Peter

Now in those days, said Timeseer,the creatures of Narnia saw the evil of their Kings, and they murmured against them. The Beasts and Dwarfs saw that Drake thought of them as he thought of his slaves, valuable only for the work they could do or the gold they could produce; and the Nymphs of Wood and Water saw that Drake did not honor them, but soiled the Rivers and cut down the Trees with no thought for the land; and they resented this. Many now repeated what some had whispered in the days of the Terebinthian Revolution, in the time of Drake's father and grandfather, that perhaps Man should not rule Narnia.

"Mr. Beaver said that Aslan brought King Frank and Queen Helen to Narnia and crowned them in the very beginning," said Lucy.

"Yes," said Timeseer, "but did he say who came with them?"

"A boy and a girl—weren't their names Lord Digory and Lady Polly?"

"And who else?"

She thought for a moment, then laughed. "The Neevil, with its fluffy white hair—"

But Edmund shook his head. "And the witch, Lucy."

"You are right, King Edmund."

Good King Frank was a Son of Adam, and never was Narnia happier than in the idyllic days of Swanwhite the Daughter of Eve, but it was also a Son of Adam who brought the Witch into Narnia. Now, in the days of Drake, few remembered the Witch or believed she still lived. What they said in those days was that it was a Man who killed Queen Swanwhite, it was a Man who killed his brothers and cousins to make himself King, and it was a Man who sat on the gold-and-ivory throne in Ravenswood.

Of all who said such things that summer, over a century ago, when Queen Althea was with child, the Dragon Milophylax, from Knucker's Mere in north-central Narnia, spoke loudest, and many gathered by the sacred Tree of Protection to hear him.

"You are Beasts!" said he. "Or have you forgotten that the same Human who brought Evil into Narnia planted this tree? They say it is for our protection, but is it not here to keep Human kings over us? We have been strictly warned all our lives not to eat its fruit, for there is strong magic in it. Strong magic, I say, to keep the Men strong and the Beasts weak.

"As long as this tree stands, Drake shall be King, shut up in that castle with his southern friends and his rich luxury—the silks you Dryads wove; the gold you Dwarfs hammered; the books you,Centaurs, wrote. But do we enjoy the fruits of our labors? Never! We toil and slave, so that those Humans may live their useless lives of luxurious ease. How much longer shall we endure this tyranny?"

Thus did Milophylax stir up the Narnians, the summer Queen Althea was with child. But in her sixth month, Aslan came to the Queen as she rested alone in her chambers, and said to her,

"I have heard your many prayers, my daughter, and my blessing shall be upon your sons from their birth—for you are of Archenland, and in your womb you carry twins. They and their descendants are dear to my heart, and through them shall come the restoration of Narnia, though you yourself shall not see it."

VII.
Telmar
The Thirty-Fourth Year of Chief Belisan

Belisan, Chief of Telmar, King of the Mountains, Captain of the Telmarines, and Knight of the Exalted Order of the Wild Hawk lived in an impressively large log building (was it palace or fort or hall?), built west of town, with plenty of space between it and the other cabins. In this space, the Winged Horses and four of the Wolves waited, with Chrysophylax and the Telmarine hunter. The Dragon coiled his scaly tail around himself and put his head down, steam curling lazily from his nostrils and the rope still firmly in his mouth. Clearscry remained on Peter's wrist and Lucy moved forward to stand at Peter's side, with Loneruff beside Peter and Loneruff's new lieutenant beside Lucy.

So they entered the stronghold. Though there were small windows in the walls, the light came from torches and a fire in the center of the room. There was a bit of chimney in the roof, not enough to let the smoke out, but the ceiling was so high that most of the smoke went up in search of a way out and never found its way back down again.

The walls were covered with animal skins, brightly painted in symbolic and geometric designs, but that was not what captured Lucy's attention. Directly ahead, behind the firepit, sat Chief Belisan himself. His throne was carved from a single massive log, skillfully shaped, with designs burned into the wood and inlaid with silver. Above the throne, a curved knife—a cutlass, she thought, not a Calormene scimitar—hung on the wall, and above that there were the antlers of a great stag.

The man sitting below the cutlass and the staghorn was just as impressive, with long gray hair, tangled beard, and earrings in both ears. He was dressed in silver-beaded white buckskins and crowned with a branched, antler-like silver crown, set with emeralds and the blue stones. At his feet sat a dark, curly-headed boy with quill and vellum.

The older of the two men who had spoken with Peter now saluted Chief Belisan. "The Narnian High King and Queen, sir. Their beasts are outside."

The Chief nodded, and the three escorts retired to the corners of the room. Peter bowed to Belisan, and Belisan lazily saluted him.

"Ahoy, King of Narnia."

"Greetings, Chief of Telmar."

"What business cannot wait until tomorrow?"

Was he merely lazy, or did he not consider them old enough, important enough, to take seriously?

"Telmarines encroach on our soil. They have slain two of our subjects, not even bothering to bury the remains. We come to make clear unto you that if you do not stop these who call themselves your subjects, then our land and yours shall be enemies."

"So you have come to spy out our defenses."

"Give us assurance that these outrages will be stopped. Swear peace with us. Then we shall swear peace with you and trade with you—horses for your cattle, steel for your silver, and silk for your leather."

"Assurance, you say. You captured one of these hunters and brought him with you?"

"Yes, King," growled Loneruff.

He raised his eyebrows. "It talks."

"Peace," Lucy murmured, so low that only Peter and the Wolves heard.

"So, you demand a restitution?" said Belisan. "The hunter will die for the Narnian he killed, and . . ." he looked around the room and settled on the sandy-haired youth, "that young man for the other Narnian. A life for a life. You should have killed the hunter when you caught him, and not come all this way to bother me."

Lucy paled. "No. We would not have you spill innocent blood." Where had these people come from? They were not descended from Frank and Helen, but they were not Calormenes either. Were all Telmarines this cruel, this bloodthirsty?

He chuckled. "Peridan is hardly innocent, pretty girl. His father was loyal to Uvilas—damn him—and I have put up with his sorry skin long enough."

Lucy felt hot all over, but Peter's voice was chill and calm. "Then 'twould hardly be a fair exchange, even if 'twere otherwise acceptable, for Nibbleaf the Rabbit was a beloved subject and friend."

"A rabbit? A rabbit?"

"Narnia, in case you hadn't noticed, is a land of Talking Beasts," said Loneruff.

"And, by all accounts, of endless winter and cold blood," said Belisan, "so why you squawk—"

"No," said Lucy again, trying to control her anger. "The White Witch hath been killed, her spell of winter hath broken, and Narnians no longer take a life for a life."

"My sister, the Queen, speaketh rightly," said Peter. "Give us thy earnest in silver and in the blue stones your people wear, and give your word, sworn on what you hold sacred, that your hunters will trespass no longer on Narnian soil. Then we and our honor shall be satisfied."

The Chief seemed bored again. "What price do you demand?"

"You offered the lives of two of your subjects," said Clearscry. "What price would you give for that?"

They stood there and negotiated, their conversation punctuated by growls from the Wolves. Peter's arm ached from bearing Clearscry, but her counsel was wise. At last they reached a number which Loneruff accepted on behalf of his pack, and a similar number which Lucy accepted on behalf of Nibbleaf's warren. The amount was brought forth in silver and polished turquoise, solemnly weighed out, and placed in two leather sacks.

"Will you prevent further such depredations of Narnian life?" asked Peter.

Belisan leaned down and his scribe whispered in his ear. Lucy had a sudden, wild thought that he did not know what "depredation" meant.

"The Western March ain't my territory. Do you expect me to patrol all the mountains? You may kill any you catch attacking your people."

Clearscry whispered in Peter's ear. He looked at Lucy, and she nodded. It seemed the best they could do.

"And do you swear not to come against us in war, but to preserve the peace between Telmar and Narnia?"

Belisan sighed. "I, Belisan, Chief of Telmar, King of the Mountains, Captain of the Telmarines, and Knight of the Exalted Order of the Wild Hawk, swear by the gods my people worship, not to break the peace between Telmar and Narnia."

"And we, High King of Narnia, Emperor of the Lone Islands, Lord of Cair Paravel, and Knight of the Most Noble Order of the Lion, do swear by the Lion Aslan to keep the peace with Telmar and Telmarines unless provoked. With those who attack our people we will do as we see fit."

"And so do I, Lucy, Queen of Narnia, Countess of Glasswater, Keeper of the Stone Table, and Lady of the Vial, swear by the Lion Aslan." She looked at the Wolf. "Loneruff." she hissed.

He grumbled in his throat. "And I, Loneruff, Alpha Wolf of the Western March Wolves, swear by the Great Lion not to harm any Telmarine without provocation. But if my Wolves are harmed, or any other Narnians of the border territories which we protect, I swear by the Great Lion's claws and teeth than I shall not hold back."

Belisan saluted halfheartedly. "Too much business after sundown. You happy now? Your scores are settled?"

"Yea," said Peter.

"You are surely tired from your journey, and my wife is waiting for me with supper. Young Peridan—whom I should not have minded executing—will show you to a cabin. Good night."

The audience was over.

IX.
Narnia
The Eleventh Year of King Drake

It was a day and a night before the King came to see his heirs, and then he had little to say. "Twins, eh? Seems thou'lt ever be a stubborn Archen wench. Well, well, an heir and withal a spare. Thankee, lass, though wast an uncommon long time about it."

Queen Althea had been reclining on a pile of pillows, but now she pushed herself up and gazed straight at the King. "No wench am I, but your own true wife: an Archen princess by birth, indeed, but a very Narnian Queen this half-score years."

At that, the King scowled his way out of the room, muttering. But, now that he was provided with an heir, he visited infrequently, and Queen Althea was left to raise her sons as she saw fit, for the King considered them too young to be affected by their mother's old-fashioned beliefs.

Queen Althea was a wise woman, and she quietly made use of her freedom. When her sons were a week old, she smuggled them out of the castle to be blessed by a Centaur, one called a seer among Centaurs, as was the custom time out of mind in Archenland and Narnia. Long did the prophet hold each Prince in his arms. Then he spoke.

"Through your elder son, Narnia shall be restored, though he will live in obscurity all his days. And when, in future days, Narnia faceth great sorrow, the children of your younger son will preserve the land from crisis. The breath of Aslan lieth heavy upon these twain."

The Queen thanked him and said, "Narnia sorrows, and the Men fear the Beasts. Noble Centaur, wilt thou teach my sons when they grow older, and wilt assist me in finding noble Animals who will come to Ravenswood, that my sons may grow accustomed to and learn to respect them?"

The prophet bowed gravely to her and gave his word to assist her. Then, wrapping herself and her twin sons again in her cloak, she went swiftly into the night, back to the castle, where the Mannish guards stood their deaf, dumb watch.

With the Centaur's assistance, Queen Althea gathered to herself a small number of Talking Beasts: Sootquill the Owl, Mrs. Twinkletacks the widowed Hedgehog, Clearscry the Eagle, Nightshadow the Panther, and a two-year-old Hound, Quicktrack, who was willing, if necessary, to play dumb. These Narnian Animals did not believe the words of Milophylax the Dragon, but pledged their allegiance to Queen Althea and to the infant Princes, vowing to teach them the proper respect and love for Aslan and His creatures.

For a single year, Queen Althea lived quietly with the court she had formed. Outside Ravenswood, Milophylax stirred up the Narnians against their King and against all Men, and in his gaudy, bloated court the King feasted and drank and grew fatter; but in her apartments the Queen filled her days with her growing sons. She sang old Narnian songs to them; she recited Archen poetry; she taught them the clapping games children had played when she was young; and when Khesa, a young daughter of the King's mistress, asked to join the happy games in the garden, the Queen welcomed her.

Outside, bands of restless Narnians roamed the countryside, stealing whatever caught their eyes, but in the castle garden, protected by thick stone walls and loyal guardians who could see, hear, and smell as well as any attacker; the Princes could play, gurgling, on the grass. And so they grew, happy and healthy and strong. By the time they were ten months old, Glen, determined to explore every inch available, could walk unaided and make his wishes loudly known. Frank was quieter. Though he could take a few steps and ask "Why?" he preferred to play near his mother by the hour as she sewed and talked to him of old Narnia.