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 Twelve

The twilight had faded into dusk and then into true night, but still we rode on. Half a dozen of our Faun archers lit the way with torches, but they were little more than spots of red-orange in the thickening darkness. I could no longer see the eyes of my men, but I could feel them on me in an unspoken question. When will we make camp for the night?

We pressed on.

I had no wish to call a halt, not with our noses tingling with the scent of our quarry. The High King rode at my side, leaning forward on his unicorn's back, his eyes fixed upon the lights ahead, blue-black in the darkness and reflecting the dance of the flames, his face flint. We were of one mind. We would waste no time in dragging this devil from his lair and his woman with him. From what we had been told, she was like him in evil. Let her face a like doom.

A soft whicker and a nudge at my side drew me from my thoughts.

"General?"

"What is it, Phillip?"

The Horse tossed his head, indicating the young King who sat drooping in his saddle. It was only due to Phillip's care that he hadn't fallen out of it.

"It is high time we stopped for the night," Phillip said softly. "None of us will be any use without rest and food."

The High King pulled up beside his brother, his expression equal parts impatience and pity. The pity won out.

"Have the men set up camp at the next likely place, Oreius," he said, and then he put one gentle hand on his brother's shoulder. "Ed?"

Edmund jerked awake, blinking and startled.

"We need to make camp now, Edmund."

"There is a place just over the next rise," I told them. "It is not much, but there is water and a brake of trees to give us some shelter."

Peter nodded. "Good. Come on, Ed. Just a little way more."

Edmund frowned, looking from his brother to me and back again, and then he shook his head.

"You were already asleep, Ed," Peter told him. "Don't be stupid. We'll get a fresh start in the morning. We ought to be there by tomorrow afternoon."

Edmund looked towards the northwest, towards where the remains of Jadis' castle lay, and his eyes glazed with fear. But then he swallowed hard and shook his head again.

"Ed," Peter began, but Edmund merely nudged Phillip's sides, urging him ahead.

The Horse said nothing. He merely walked forward, and we followed beside him.

"Edmund, don't be an idiot," Peter scolded. "This won't do anyone any good. Edmund!"

Edmund only pressed his lips together, that familiar stubborn scowl on his face, and hurried Phillip on. But when they reached the place where the men were setting up camp, the Horse came to a decided stop. Edmund kicked his sides and tugged his reins, but Phillip only snorted and shook his head.

Peter grinned as he pulled up beside them. "See? You're not going anywhere tonight. Come on now. Get down and let's eat and get to bed."

Edmund crossed his arms over his chest with a huff and did not move.

Peter got off his unicorn and stood beside him. "Edmund, you're being a baby. Now get down."

Phillip looked back at his boy with a wary eye, clearly not going to move either, and Edmund's frown deepened.

Peter reached a hand up to him. "Come on, Ed. We're all tired and hungry."

Edmund merely looked down at him and gave him a disdainful shake of his head.

"Edmund–"

My own patience at an end, I merely lifted the dark colt off Phillip's back and dumped him, squirming and struggling, onto the blankets the men had spread out under a large pine for him and his brother.

"Thank you, Oreius," Peter said, smirking at Edmund as he sat beside him.

Once more, Edmund crossed his arms over his chest and huffed. Phillip gave him a look of stern reproof as one of the Fauns removed his saddle and bridle, and then the Horse wandered off to graze. I saw that the colts were eating, too. It was only some bread and jerky from one of the saddlebags, but they were eating. It would be good for them both.

I took some food myself and then walked the perimeter of the camp, making sure it was secure before I returned to the fireside. It was banked low since the night was warm, and I could only just make out the face of the older colt. He was looking up at me.

"High King?"

He put one finger to his lips and I saw his brother was asleep there against the tree trunk. One hand, still clutching his bread, had fallen into his lap. The other had slipped to the ground along with the jerky he had barely tasted.

I bent down to the High King, lowering my voice. "You wished something, Majesty?"

"Do you think–" He glanced at Edmund and then looked again at me, eyes full of worry. "Do you think he will be all right? Going back. I mean, going back . . . there."

"To Jadis' castle?"

I looked at the younger colt again, remembering the first time I had seen him. He'd been tied to a tree, not just leaning against it, white with terror under the bruises and dirt, dark eyes pools of guilt and pleading and resignation. I had been angry with Aslan that night. Though I had not admitted it then even to myself, I had been angry with Him for sending me and my men into battle with the Witch and her creatures just for the sake of a traitor. A miserable little traitor who had betrayed his own brother and sisters for sweets.

Why should the Great Lion bother with such a wretched creature? I had wondered as I cut his bonds and lifted him into my arms. Why should He seek out and save such a one? Why should He love–

Then the foal had curled up against me, small and shaking, and I realized how very young he was and how ill prepared to face the wiles of the White Witch.

I looked at him now. He again had that look. Fear. Exhaustion. Deep remorse. But there was something else in that pale face now. Something that had not been there that first night.

"He is determined to bring Zeier to justice, High King, even if it means following him to the place he has feared ever since the four of you came into Narnia. Would you stand back and let someone else capture the renegade who took from us our Gentle Queen? I know you would not, no more than I would. Why should he feel any differently?"

Peter studied his brother's face and then looked up at me. "Why do you think Zeier has chosen that place, Oreius? Out of all Narnia, why there?"

I shook my head. "I am not certain, My King, but we will find out soon enough. From what our scouts have seen, he has far too few men to withstand us long, even in his borrowed fortress. Our battle should be quickly begun and quickly over. Then perhaps we shall have justice. Then perhaps, Aslan with us, we shall all have peace."

Peter nodded, his eyes once again on his sleeping brother. "Amen."

Author's Note: Okay, I was determined to get this posted tonight. I'll blame any stupidness on sleep deprivation.