Disclaimer: Edmund and Peter Pevensie and all the characters and situations in the Chronicles of Narnia belong to C. S. Lewis and not to me. Oreius also does not belong to me. I do, however, wish I could play in Narnia.

Chapter Seven

"Nothing?"

I narrowed my eyes, searching the Hawk's face for any sign of hope, but he only shook his head.

"Forgive me, General. But the one trail we did find vanished in the bed of a stream. The Dogs and Leopards are trying to pick it up again, but they have not yet been able."

I frowned. That was the fourth report I'd had in the two days since the funeral of the Gentle Queen. All of them the same. No sign of the fiend who stolen her life and almost taken her younger brother's.

I exhaled heavily. I wanted to be out there leading the hunt. I needed to be. I hadn't protected my Queen, but I could at least avenge her. I could at least bring her murderer to justice.

Still, I could not leave. Not yet. I glanced over to where the two Kings sat halfheartedly playing chess. They were both thin and pale, too worn and too on edge for my liking. I would not leave them, at least not yet. Not until I could truly be of use elsewhere.

I dismissed the Hawk and went to them.

"Anything?" the High King asked.

The dark colt's hand tightened on the chess piece he held, his eyes asking the same question.

"I fear not, Majesty."

I repeated the message the Hawk had brought, and for a moment Peter was as silent as Edmund. Then he merely sighed and dredged up the stiff smile that was the only kind he could manage these last few days. He was wearing thin with grief and care, as exhausted as his brother. We needed to hear something. Dear Aslan, we need to hear something soon.

"Oh, look, Ed," Peter said, his voice as bright and unconvincing as his smile. "Finish that move, and you'll have checkmate."

Edmund looked at the board and then at the piece he held. The white queen. Suddenly his face contorted, and he slammed his fist onto the chessboard and sent the pieces flying .

For a moment, there was only the rattle of ivory on stone, and then dead silence. I knew the younger colt hated few things more than when his brother allowed him to win – at chess or any other kind of competition. And I had watched them play enough to know that was precisely what Peter had done.

Peter looked at me, hopeless weariness in his eyes, and then he quietly knelt to retrieve the pieces. Before he could touch even one of them, Edmund shoved him out of the way and started picking them up himself, tears streaming down his pale cheeks as he slammed them one by one back onto the board. All but the white queen. That one he stood gently in the square where it belonged.

He knelt there a moment more, head down, breath coming in harsh, catching little jerks. When they finally slowed, he mopped his wet face on his sleeve and gave his brother a tight, rueful smile. Peter smiled, too, still that stiff, unconvincing smile, and helped him to his feet.

"Come on, Ed. Maybe we'll do something else."

Edmund took a shuddering little breath and sniffed and then sat down again. Peter sat, too, struggling for something to say. Only the entrance of their sister broke the silence.

"I made us all something to eat," she said, cheerful as a little bird. "You will try some of it, won't you, Edmund?"

He drew back from her, his expression wary, almost sickly. Despite Peter's tireless coaxing, he had eaten hardly more than a mouthful since his return to the Cair, and precious little of that had stayed down. Now, as always, he shook his head.

"Couldn't you just try some?"

Lucy took the cover from the tray she had brought, revealing a hearty soup and some fresh bread and some strawberries from the kitchen garden.

Peter sighed and raked his fingers through his hair. Then, once again, that stiff smile was on his face.

"Please, Ed. Just a taste." He spooned up some of the soup, inhaling the aroma. "That smells really good, Lu. Did you make it?"

Lucy nodded, looking hopefully at Edmund. "I made it for you. Just like Su–" She glanced at Peter, a tear glimmering in her eye and then swiftly blinked away. "Just like you like it."

Edmund pulled back even more from her, and Peter frowned, seeing the hurt in her expression.

"Just a taste," he said, offering his brother the spoon, but Edmund would not take it.

Frown deepening, Peter dropped the spoon back into the bowl, rattling it against the china, and picked up a piece of the bread, offering that instead.

With a vague shake of his head, Edmund turned his face away. Jaw clenched, Peter turned it back.

"Edmund, you need to eat. If you don't eat, you're going to die."

Queen Lucy looked at me, eyes wide, and I moved closer to the colts.

"My King–"

"You're going to die, Edmund, do you hear me?" Peter's eyes were fixed on his brother's. "Do you understand?"

Edmund bit his lip, pleading with those eyes Peter could never deny anything, and once more shook his head. He struggled to speak and could not, but I could tell what he was trying to say.

Can't. Can't. Peter.

"Please, My King," I began again, and Edmund held out his hands, begging now. Peter grabbed his wrist, shoving the bread into his hand, forcing his fingers around it.

"Eat it," he demanded, now looming over the younger colt. "Eat it!"

Edmund fought away from him, upsetting chair and table, tray and all, in his terror.

"Peter!" I grabbed the older colt, shaking him by the shoulders. "Stop it. Stop it now."

"Peter," Lucy whispered, her small hand tugging at his sleeve.

Peter looked at her, at me, at Edmund huddled and trembling now in the corner of the room, and his face crumpled into tears.

"Ed. Eddie?"

He pushed away from me and flung himself down next to his brother, pulling him into a tight embrace, holding him close despite Edmund's frantic struggle to get free.

"I'm sorry," he sobbed. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Please, Ed, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Aslan, forgive me, Eddie, I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry."

He held on tight until the struggles ceased and Edmund was clinging to him, shaken with silent sobs. After a moment, their sister went to them and clasped them both in her arms.

"It's all right, Peter. We know." She kissed her oldest brother's wet cheek. "We know you didn't mean it. We know."

"Oh, Lu," he sobbed. "Lu."

I kept my expression solemn, but my heart broke for them, all three of them. Aslan, be with these little ones. Do not forget your chosen. Let justice be done on those who have caused such pain to the innocent.

As if in answer, a Raven fluttered in through the open window.

"News, General! I'm sent from your troops with news! They've found the trail of Zeier and his men."

Author's Note: I would be very happy if you would answer the poll on my profile page about story updates. I'd be even happier to know what you thought of this chapter.