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 Thirteen

We came into view of the Witch's castle late the next afternoon. The walls of ice had melted long ago, but the grim rock that had upheld them was still in place. The spired towers still thrust dagger-like into the sky. The barred gates still stood tall and forbidding, a predator's dark maw greedy for prey.

There was a breech in the outer wall, one I knew had been made by a good Giant's boot at Aslan's command. But even now a dozen or so rag-tag Dwarfs were busy clearing out the broken stones and mortar, readying it after years of neglect for repair.

"Is that what it looks like, Oreius?" the High King asked as he pulled his unicorn up beside me, careful to stay in the cover of the trees.

I nodded. "Zeier means to stay here. And clearly he thinks himself strong enough to stand against whatever forces we might bring."

"That's what bothers me. He didn't have that many men to start with, and we killed several of those. Can he sit there, even behind those walls, and think we won't be able to take him? After what he's done? What he did to Susan and–" Peter glanced at his brother coming up at his other side and lowered his voice. "How can he think we'll let what he's done go unpunished?"

"We need more information," I said. "I've already sent a few of our Sparrows to scout the castle from the air. Some of the great Cats are creeping around to the far side of the place to see what they can see. I hope to hear something from them soon. Meanwhile, we ought to pull back a bit and make camp."

Peter nodded reluctantly, but Edmund tugged at his sleeve and then nodded towards the castle.

"Not yet, Ed. Not till we know what's in there."

Edmund looked at me with that same dark urgency, but I only shook my head. "Soon enough, My King. Soon enough."

He made no further protest. He only looked out towards the castle, his face empty of emotion, but his eyes–

I could only imagine what sparked that mix of guilt and dread, of determination and cold fear. He had never spoken to me of what he had suffered in the Witch's dungeon, and he could not tell us now what Zeier and his woman had done to him. But it seemed clear that he would not have peace, he would not have healing, until these renegades were brought down.

Finally, he turned Phillip towards the forest and rode into the trees. The High King and I followed after them. The men were bustling around, setting up camp in a clearing, and both Kings dismounted at once. Edmund made quick work of Phillip's saddle and bridle and then walked into the woods.

"My King?" the Horse said, starting after him.

Peter was instantly at his brother's side, stopping him before he was out of sight. "Ed, you can't–"

Edmund only exhaled heavily and then motioned scooping water to his mouth and then washing his face and hands.

Peter glanced at me and then nodded. "Hurry. Our scouts ought to be back with some news any time now."

Edmund nodded in return and disappeared. I watched after him, scanning the trees.

"I will send a guard, My King."

Peter shook his head. "He's just gone to the stream. I need to wash, too. I'll give him a minute and then I'll check on him myself."

I frowned. "As you say, Majesty."

Peter did go to the stream a few minutes later. A moment after that he was back, jaw clenched, lips trembling with fury as he pulled his sword from its sheath.

"Get a couple of men and come with me, Oreius. He's gone."

I motioned a Leopard and a Satyr to my side and went to him. "King Edmund?"

Peter gave me a curt nod and stalked back into the woods. "Hurry."

We had gone no more than a hundred yards when he froze and held up one hand. My soldiers and I halted. Then all four of us moved into the shadows under the trees, silent and swift. I heard it now, the rustling of undergrowth, the harsh breathing of someone who was struggling to get free, and then a yelp of pain.

I glanced at Peter, puzzled. That was no human yelp.

Before I could signal my men to move forward, there was a crash and another yelp. Then a Wolf slunk, whimpering, out of the brush. Edmund was behind him, keeping a firm hold on the rope that was around the Beast's neck and prodding him with the point of his sword. Both of them were scraped and dirty and panting with effort.

"Ed!"

The High King went to his brother, equal parts relief and exasperation in his expression. My own expression was no doubt the same.

"I swear, Ed, I am going to have Oreius spank you." Peter turned the sullen Wolf over to the Satyr and then shook his brother by the shoulders. "What were you thinking leaving camp alone and without telling anyone?"

Edmund pointed to the prisoner and then to the castle and then tapped himself on the temple. Peter looked at him and then at me puzzled.

"We do need more information about Zeier, Majesty," I said. "Perhaps the Wolf can supply that for us."

The Satyr tightened his hold on the rope, tightening it around the Beast's neck, and the Wolf began to whine.

"What were you doing trying to spy on our camp?" I demanded. "Did Zeier send you to kill the King Edmund? Speak."

The Wolf only dropped his head, his tail between his legs. "No. I didn't come to your camp at all. I was only on my usual patrol, and that two-legged mongrel grabbed me and collared me."

The Satyr tightened the rope once more, and the Wolf yelped.

I narrowed my eyes. "Mind your tongue, Cur, when speaking of your King."

"He wouldn't even say what he wanted," the Beast whined. "How was I to know?"

"You know now," the High King said, looming over him, the point of his blade suddenly at the Wolf's throat. "We are also your King, Wolf. The High King of Narnia. Now tell us what you are doing here? You serve that vile Zeier and his woman. Tell us why they have come to this place? Why did they do anything more than slink into the shadows after daring such foul crimes against our royal brother and sister?"

The Wolf only slunk down on his belly, whimpering again. I could see now that he was little more than a pup and probably should not have been sent on patrol alone.

"I– I don't know. I came because my pack came. King Zeier said we would all be well cared for."

Both Kings' eyes flashed. Both of them looked at me, and then Peter pressed his blade under the Wolf's chin. "King Zeier?"

"Y-yes, Your Majesty. He and the female are to be King and Queen of the Western Wood."

King Edmund's dark eyes blazed, and his fist clenched.

Peter glared at the Wolf and then shoved him away with a bark of a laugh. "King, is he? Of our brother's wood? Before Aslan, does he think we shall have nothing to say in this?"

"I don't know, Your Majesty. I'm just–"

"Get the men, Oreius," Peter said. "Such effrontery cannot go unanswered."

The sun was still high and hot when we moved out, every man armed for battle. The Kings were bright gold and dark silver, proud and straight on their mounts as they rode to the castle gates to meet this upstart who dared call himself King.

The High King held up one hand and the army halted. Then, at his signal, one of the Fauns sounded one clear note on his horn. A moment later, an Ogre peered out from the top of the wall, blinking oafishly.

"What do you want?"

"Open the gates," I told him, my voice ringing in the stillness. "In the name of High King Peter and of King Edmund, Lord of this Western Wood, open and lay down your arms."

The Ogre looked at me and then at the Kings and then at the soldiers fanned out behind us. Then he scratched his head. "I don't think King Zeier is going to want us to do that, but I'll ask."

He lumbered away, leaving me and the Kings to merely look at each other in befuddlement. Then someone appeared on the balcony above the gate, a tall man, broad and well muscled, dark skinned and black eyed. He wore a fine velvet cloak, midnight blue and trimmed with an embroidered band, and I realized it had been one of King Edmund's, stolen from him when their party had first been attacked. He was even wearing Edmund's seal ring and pendant. This had to be Zeier at last.

He looked down on us with kingly hauteur and even a condescending smile. "Greetings, My Brother Kings. You are welcome to our kingdom. No need for show of force."

My blood boiled at such insolence. "Come down, renegade! You and your jade with you! Come down and have justice done upon you!"

Zeier only sneered. "Keep still, Centaur, and let your betters speak." He looked Edmund up and down, his smile returning. "I had not expected to see you again, Little King, but perhaps it is only right. I am pleased for you to give us this wood yourself. You may, if you wish, call it a wedding gift for me and my Queen. We will have the ceremony this evening, and of course you and the High King are most welcome to attend. My Queen would no doubt enjoy having you visit once more."

I could hear the dark colt's breath coming in sharp, barely audible little gasps and see the glimmer of sweat on his upper lip, but he held his head up, hand on the hilt of his sword, and did not flinch away.

His eyes blue ice, Peter urged his unicorn a step closer to the castle, putting himself between it and his brother. "You will come down or, before Aslan, we will bring you down. You and this false Queen you claim. Come down, both of you."

"Perhaps, High King, you would like to speak to her yourself." He turned back towards the doorway and stretched out one hand. "Come, My Queen. You are called for."

The woman stepped from the dark doorway and into the sunlight, and I felt my heart lurch. Beside me, Edmund's eyes widened and Peter gasped.

"Susan."

Author's Note: Yes, Rayven49, you were right all along. Have a cookie.