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 Eight

The High King scrambled to his feet, pulling his brother and sister up beside him. "What have they found? Where?"

"They have found Zeier?" I asked.

The Raven shifted from foot to foot, bobbing his head. "Not Zeier himself, General, but we have found his trail. He and the remainder of his men escaped the cave through tunnels into the heart of the mountain and then out into the woods. They are headed north now."

I nodded. "But the scouts have not yet come upon them?"

"No, General. They are still well ahead of us, no doubt making for another defensible stronghold."

"No doubt." I turned to the High King. "Our troops have been awaiting the order to move out since your return to the Cair, Majesty. By your leave, I will lead them out at once. We will find these renegades and, living or dead, bring them back to you."

"We shall bring them back," Peter said, his young face grim and determined.

His brother clutched his arm, that same grim determination in his dark eyes, but Peter only shrugged free of him.

"No. Not this time."

The dark colt turned to me, pleading, and I shook my head.

"Forgive me, Majesty, but you must not. You must recover your strength before you will be fit for such a mission."

"He's right, Ed," the High King said. "You've hardly slept or eaten since we got home. You're not–"

Edmund made an impatient, huffing sound and looked his brother up and down. His meaning was clear: Peter had been hardly different himself.

"Fine, Ed. Just fine."

Mouth tight, Peter knelt by the overturned tray, found the remains of the loaf of bread and ate a large piece. Glaring at him, Edmund grabbed a large chunk of the bread, too, and stuffed it into his mouth, wolfing it down, all the while not breaking eye contact.

Almost immediately, he blanched and turned his head, both hands covering his mouth.

"Ed!"

Peter grabbed his brother's arm and hurried him to the wash basin, holding Edmund's head over it as he was quietly sick. Lucy handed Peter a clean damp cloth, and with fatherly tenderness, he wiped Edmund's mouth and the sudden sweat from his face.

"You can't go, Ed. I'm sorry, but you need to stay here."

Edmund only leaned against him, head bowed, no longer protesting.

"Peter," Lucy began, "I want to–"

"No, Lu, it's too dangerous. Besides, you have to stay here and look after Edmund. Promise me you'll stay here at the Cair until we get back. Promise."

"But, Peter–"

"No, Lu. Please. Promise me."

She stuck out her lower lip.

"Please, Lu, for me." Peter touched the back of his fingers to her cheek. "I need to know Edmund will be all right while I'm gone."

She sighed. "All right, Peter. I promise I'll stay here. I just wanted to help."

"I know. But you can help best by being someplace where I don't have to worry about you." He pulled her close, hugging her and Edmund both in farewell, and then released them. "If the men are ready, Oreius, so am I."

I bowed slightly. "Just as you say, Majesty. We will leave within the hour."

OOOOO

By midday we were well on our way. My soldiers, human and Beast, were silent and swift, knowing what this mission meant. To the High King and his brother and sister. To me and to all of their subjects. For the memory of the Gentle Queen and for the sake of sweet Narnia herself, this vile Zeier had to be stopped.

It was dusk before the High King broke his silence.

"Do you suppose they'll be all right, Oreius?"

I did not have to ask who he meant. He had been looking back towards the Cair every few minutes ever since we had started out. I knew he was torn between bringing his sister's murderers to justice and protecting the family he had left, but I did not suggest he return. I knew he needed this, even though I knew he wished for his brother, the shield to his sword, to be at his side.

Well, this was for the Just King as much as it was for the Gentle Queen. The dark colt would be a long while recovering from what had happened to him. Perhaps he would never be the same. I knew as well as his brother did that, if something did not change, if he did not begin to eat and drink and sleep once more, he would not long survive. We had to make certain he knew this Zeier could never hurt him or anyone again.

"Your brother and sister are safe, My King. They have double their usual guard and an extra detail of men patrolling the walls of the Cair. You need not worry."

He nodded. Already the activity seemed to be doing him good. He had eaten well when we had stopped earlier, for the first time since we had heard the party of King Edmund and Queen Susan had been attacked, and now there was even a hint of color in his face. He had never been one to sit back and let others attend to difficult matters for him. It was one of the reasons he was so well loved by his subjects. No doubt it was one of the reasons Aslan Himself had thought him fit to be High King. He served and did not expect to be served.

"General Oreius?"

I flicked my tail, startled by the Faun archer who was suddenly at my side. "What is it, Bennock?"

"Will we be stopping soon? There is a clear running stream just over the next rise and a very defensible campsite just beyond."

I nodded. "Yes."

"No."

We both looked at the High King, and he shook his head.

"We cannot stop now. Zeier and his men are already too far ahead of us. We can't–"

"We can't give him the advantage, Majesty, of us being already spent by the time we do reach him. And, from the reports I have, he does not seem to be in any hurry. He seems to believe he has escaped without a trace."

"True, Majesty," the Raven scout cawed. "True."

Peter looked up at the darkening sky, frowning, and then let out a heavy breath. "All right. We'll stop for the night. But we'll be off all the earlier in the morning."

"As you say, My King."

I gave the order, and before long we had set up camp. Knowing they had to be up well before dawn, the men made quick work of supper and, apart from those on the first watch, were soon asleep. The High King, though he again ate well, did not even make a pretense of sleeping. He merely sat with his back to a tree and stared into the fire.

"Majesty," I said softly when it was drawing close to the middle of the night. "You need your rest as much as any of the men. More."

"All right," he said, not looking away from the flames. "I will–"

"High King." The Raven swooped down onto Peter's shoulder, his croaking voice low. "One of the sentries says there is someone approaching the camp. On the east side. He wants to know if you wish him to be captured or killed."

"Only one?" Peter asked. "Is he sure?"

The Raven nodded. "The intruder is hanging back, just out of sight, but there is no sign of anyone else."

Peter stood, drawing his sword. "Maybe Zeier sent someone back to see if he was being followed. We'd better find out what this fellow knows."

I drew my weapon as well. "Silent and swift now."

The High King and I crept towards the spot where the intruder had last been seen and then waited. For a long while, there was not a whisper of sound, not a breath of movement. Then we both spotted it at the same time– a tiny quiver in a stand of rushes at the edge of the stream.

I nodded at Peter and we crept forward, both of us silent shadows in the night. When we were in place on either side of the reeds, I nodded again. With a cry, he leapt forward from his side as I did on mine, flinging the intruder onto his back, wresting the sword from his hands.

Our captive made no sound, but he fought like a wildcat until we dragged him to the middle of camp and into the light of the fire.

Once there, Peter released his hold, his jaw clenched with fury.

"Edmund."

Author's Note: So now the adventury part starts. What do you think?