Mother of God. Sorry it's been so long. First semester of college, rowing, new state...yeahyeahyeah. Trying to write more, I promise. Enjoy!
Next morning, the Lord Bern called his guests early. Caspian was already awake, but the others were a bit more difficult to rouse. After a quick breakfast, Caspian ordered every man he had into full armor. This was done. Then, in three boatloads, Caspian and his people, and Bern and a few of his, put out for Narowhaven. King Caspian's flag flew in the stern of his boat and his trumpeter was with him.
When they reached the jetty at Narrowhaven, Caspian found a rather large crowd assembled to meet them. They were friend of Bern, the ones that he had sent word to the night before, and they were honest people who recognized King Caspian of Narnia as their sovereign. At the same time, bells rang out throughout the town, which Bern had also ordered. Then Caspian caused his banner to be raised and his trumpet to be blown, and every man drew his sword and set his face into a joyful sternness. They marched so that the street shook with their steps and their armor shone in the sun so brightly that one could hardly look at it.
Soon, children joined in with the cheers of Bern's friends, for they rather liked the look of the whole procession and they had seen very few in such splendor. Then all the schoolboys joined in because they also enjoyed the procession, and felt the more noise and disturbance there was, the less likely they would be to have any school that morning. Then all the old women put their heads out of doors and windows and began chattering and cheering because it was a king, and what is a governor to that? The all the young women joined in the cheer for the same reason, and also because Caspian and Drinian and all the rest were very handsome. And then all the young men came to see what all the young women were cheering about, so that by the time Caspian reached the castle gates, nearly the whole town was shouting. Gumpas sat in the castle, muddling and messing with accounts and forms and rules and regulations when he was disturbed by all the ruckus.
Caspian's trumpeter blew his horn at the castle gates, and cried, "Open for the King of Narnia, Caspian the Tenth, come to visit his trusty and well-beloved servant the governor of the Lone Islands." In those days in the Islands, everything was done in a slovenly, slouching manner, and thus, only the little postern opened, and out came a tousled fellow with a dirty old had on his head instead of a helmet, carrying a rusty old pike in his hand.
"No interviews without 'ppointments," he grumbled, rather blinded with the armor of the Caspian's followers, "'cept 'tween nine 'n' ten p.m. second Saturday every month."
"Uncover before Narnia, you dog," Bern boomed as he dealt him a rap with his hand that sent his hat flying from his head.
"'Ere? Wot's it all about?" the doorkeeper began. But no one took any notice of him. Two of Caspian's men stepped through the postern and had the gate flung open soon after. The King and his followers strode into the courtyard. Here a number of the governor's guards were lounging about and tumbling out of doorways. Their armor was in a disgraceful condition, especially when compared to that of the Narnians. Caspian gave their shocked faces no time to think.
"Where is the captain?" he demanded.
" I am he, sir," said a languid and rather dandified person without any armor at all.
"It is our wish that our royal visitation should be, if possible, one of joy. If it were not for that, I would have said something about the state of your men's armor and weapons, but you are pardoned. But at noon tomorrow, I expect to see you looking more like men at arms and less like vagabonds. See to it on pain of my extreme displeasure." Caspian then ordered most of his own men to remain in the courtyard, and he, Bern, Drinian, and four others went into the hall.
His Sufficiency, Gumpas, Governor of the Lone Islands sat behind a table while many secretaries fussed about him. He didn't even bother to look up; he instead continued fussing about the papers that lay piled around him. "No interviews with out an appointment except on the second Saturday of every month between nine and ten p.m.," he said sortly.
Caspian gave Bern a nod and then stood aside. Bern and Drinian stepped forward and each seized an end of the table. They lifted it and flung it on one side of the hall, where it rolled over and scattered a cascade of letters, dossiers, ink-pots, pens, sealing-wax, and documents. Firmly, the gentlemen then plucked Gumpas from his chair and deposited him about four feet away at Caspian's feet. Caspian then walked over to the governor's chair, drew his sword, sat down, and placed its naked blade across his lap.
"You have not quite given us the welcome we would have expected, my Lord," he said. "I am the King of Narnia."
"We have not been notified of any such thing," the governor stammered, but not apologetically. " Nothing about it in the correspondence. Nothing in the minutes. All irregular. Happy to consider any applications—"
"And we are happy to enquire into your Sufficiency's conduct of office. There are two points especially on which I require an explanation, firstly that no due tribute has been paid to Narnia from these islands for about a hundred and fifty years."
"That would be a question to raise with the Council next month," Gumpas said, still very matter-of-factly, without the slightest hint of sorrow or remorse.
"I also find it clearly written in our laws," Caspian continued, "that if the tribute is not received, the whole debt must be paid by the governor out of his private purse."
Gumpas then began to pay real attention. "It is an economic impossibility – er – Your Majesty must be joking." He really wanted to rid himself of these untimely visitors, but he could imagine no such way of doing so.
"Secondly," Caspian continued, "I want to know why you have permitted this abominable and unnatural traffic of slavery to grow up here, contrary to the ancient custom and usage of our dominions."
"Necessary, unavoidable. An essential part of the development of these lands, I assure you."
"What need have you for slaves?"
"Export. Sell 'em. We are a great center of the trade."
"So in other words you do not need them. Tell me what purpose does enslaving the innocent serve except to put money in to the pockets of lesser and wretches of men?"
"Your Majesty's tender years hardly make it possible that you should understand—"
"Tender as my years may be, I believe that I understand the slave trade from within quite as well as you do. And I do not see that it brings these islands and form of sustenance at all. Even if it did, it wouldn't matter. It must be stopped."
"But that would be putting the clock back! Have you no idea of progress, of development?"
"I have seen them both in an egg. We call it 'Going Bad.' This trade must be stopped."
"I can take no responsibility for any such matter."
"Very well, then," Caspian said. "You are relieved of your office. Lord Bern, come here, my good man."
Before Gumpas had realized what was happening, Bern was kneeling at Caspian's feet and was taking the oath to govern the Lone Islands. Caspian named him a duke, for I'm quite certain that the Lone Islands had seen quite enough of governors.
"I forgive you of your debt for the tribute, anyhow," Caspian said, turning back to Gumpas, "but you must see that you and yours are gone from the castle by noon tomorrow, for it is now the Duke's residence."
"Look here," Gumpas began, rather hotheaded now, "this is all very well, but it's time all you gentlemen stop playacting and we do a little business. The question before us really is –"
"Whether you and the rest of your rabble will leave without a flogging or with one," the Duke said. "You may choose which you prefer."
When all of this had been rather pleasantly settled, Caspian ordered horses and with Bern, Drinian, and a few others, and rode out for the slave market. It was a long, low building near the harbor and the scene which they found going on inside was much like any other auction. There was a great crowd, and Pug, the same brutal slaver that caught our friends, was standing on a platform, roaring out in a raucous voice. Susan stood next to Pug, her hands in chains and her eyes round with fear and red with tears. But she was not crying. She stood tall and bold, closing her eyes as the bid for her raised, greedy men naming higher prices each time.
But Pug stopped and gasped and Susan's eyes filled with hope when they saw the mail-clad figures that had clanked up to the platform.
"On your knees, every one of you, for the King of Narnia" Duke Bern said. Most obeyed out of pure shock and fear. Others were pulled down by neighbors. Some cheered.
"Your life is forfeit, Pug," Caspian said, "for laying hands on our royal person yesterday," and looking to Susan he added, "and for auctioning off such a fine woman." Susan smiled at the compliment. He then looked back to Pug. "But your ignorance is pardoned. The slave trade is forbidden in this and all realms of Narnia, effective not but a quarter of an hour ago. Thus, I declare every slave in this market free." The slaves cheered, and Caspian held up his hand to silence them.
He took the keys from Pug's hand and hastened towards Susan. He fussed with each key, stumbling to find the right one that would free Susan. When he finally did, the chains fell to the floor with a clank and he embraced her tightly.
"Are you alright?" he whispered in her ear.
"I am now," she responded.
Caspian then positioned himself between Susan and Pug, as to protect her, and asked, "Where are the rest of my friends?"
"We're here!" Lucy and Edmund cried at once. "At your service, Sire," Reepicheep piped in. The crowd parted to let the three of them out, and there were many hugs and handshakes spared. The two merchants of Calmoren at once approached. They bowed most politely to Caspian ad paid him long compliments, all about the fountains of prosperity irrigating the gardens of prudence and virtue – and things like that – but of course what they wanted was the money they had paid.
"That is only fair," Caspian replied. "Every man who has bought a slave today must have his money back. Pug, bring out your takings to the last minim."
"Does your good Majesty mean to beggar me?" Pug whined.
"You have lived on broken hearts all your life," Susan spoke up with disdain from behind Caspian. "If you are beggared, it is better to be a beggar than a slave."
"Where is Eustace?" Lucy chimed in, just as things were about to get heated between Susan and the slaver.
"Oh, him?" said Pug. "Take him and welcome. Glad to have him off my hands. Never have I seen such a parasite in the market in all my born days. Threw him in free with other lots and still no one would have him. Tacks, bring out Sulky."
Eustace was produced, and sulky did he look, for though no one would want to be sold as a slave, it is perhaps even more galling to be a sort of utility slave whom no one will purchase. He walked up to Caspian and said, "I see. As usual. Been enjoying yourself somewhere while the rest of us were prisoners. I suppose you haven't even found out about the British Consul. Of course not."
"A simple thank you would suffice," Susan jeered.
"Hmph," Eustace sighed.
That night at the castle of Narrowhaven, there was a great feast, full of merriment and delicious dining. Lord Bern, the island's new governor, sat at Caspian's right, while Susan sat at his left. Many a man asked her to dance with them, and Susan always politely accepted, being a Queen of Old, but in truth, her eyes were only for Caspian. Even when she was dancing with others, she found it quite difficult to keep from giving him smiles, meeting his eyes every time she looked at him.
"Lady Susan is the most beautiful creature in the room," Lord Bern smiled to Caspian. Across the room, Susan was laughing wildly as she spun with Reepicheep to the music.
"I'd daresay in all of Narnia," Caspian mused longingly. "Perhaps ever farther. Perhaps the whole Earth."
"She has quite the eye for you as well, Sir."
"I loved her once," Caspian found himself confessing to his friend. "Some years ago. She loved me, too. But then she left. Not by choice, because she had to. Back to her own world. But still, she was gone. "
"And you love her still," Bern observed. "I can see it in the way you look at her, and in the way your composure changes when she enters the room."
Caspian turned to Lord Bern with an expression of disparity. "Yes; I love her still."
After a moment's silence, Lord Bern said, "You know, my friend Caspian, every King needs a Queen."
King Caspian smiled to his friend and patted him on the shoulder as he got up from his seat at the table. He took a few long strides across the room until he reached Susan and caught her in mid-dance. The two smiled at one another as they continued the dance, twirling around the room with the thrill and rush of the music. They only stopped and parted when they found it difficult to stand much longer, and had to go to bed before the morning's journey onward.