IDYLL: PART 3
"I didn't think it took this long to reach Beruna," whispered Edmund, easing his mount between theirs where the path widened between two lush copses of oak and beech. "We must have been on the road for hours already."
"It's not the distance; it's the company." Eustace was careful to keep his head bowed lest the particular company referred to should glance his way. "I loathe Tashbaan already, and I couldn't even find it on a map! When did you go there, Ed?"
"Ages ago, and it was even more ghastly than you imagine." A family of rabbits popped up from their burrows, raising three shrill cheers. Instantly the three children dropped back to allow them a better view of the King and Queen. "I wonder if this Tisroc's like the one Su and I met? A great, fat slow-moving slug of a fellow with the cruellest beady eyes I ever saw. That dratted Vizier – where is he, by the way? – says this one's a paragon of virtue."
"They say that about them all," Lucy pointed out sensibly. "After all, don't they pretend Rabadash himself was naturally peace-loving, temperate and wise? That's not how I remember him. And the Vizier's with Drinian."
"Poor Drinian," said Eustace with feeling. "I can hear him wittering away from here."
His cousins glanced back briefly before their eyes met in compassionate understanding. Drinian held himself stiffly erect in the saddle, his tanned skin pulled taut across the high bridge of his nose. "Poor fellow," agreed Edmund as Eustace groaned, catching the fifth May-he-live-for-ever in succession. "I dare say Alyoshka won't bother himself about talking to a Dwarf or a Centaur…"
"Glenstorm's jolly intimidating," Eustace commented under his breath. Lucy nodded.
"They're so big and stern, even though I know they're darlings really" she agreed. Edmund frowned.
"Which means he's been chewing Drinian's ear since we left Cair Paravel," he finished.
"Sooner his than mine," Eustace muttered, spurring his pony forward. "I say! Caspian, do those red roofs I see between the trees mean we're almost there? Isabella's promised us a fine dinner!"
"Do you ever think of anything but food?" wailed Lucy as Edmund urged his horse into a canter, leaving her behind.
The high trill of Alyoskha Tarkaan's false laughter snagged in her ear. Silently cursing her soft heart, Lucy reined her pretty palomino back, allowing the riders behind to catch up. "We'll see Beruna once we're through these trees, Vizier. Look! It's the only town in Narnia that has those red tiles instead of grey slates on its roofs."
"Gracious and renowned Queen, tales of this town's loveliness have stretched even so far as the city of Tash itself!" He dropped the reins, clasping his fat little hands. A passable horseman at least, she decided, to control even a placid mount with legs alone. "And – if I may speak boldly – it has been the utmost desire of my most benevolent and sacred master, the delight of my autumn days, to gaze upon it since his eye first alighted on the radiant damsel that resides here! Had her Grace only ridden with this noble party, how much brighter the sun must have shone! Why! Valiant sovereign – most noble lord – I see no bridge to carry us dryshod across the torrent of this most picturesque river!"
"There's no need for a bridge, Vizier, when the ford is so shallow!" cried Lucy. "There was a bridge, of course, but it did so spoil the place! Everyone was glad when Aslan had it brought down."
"Aye, Ma'am. Even in the worst winters the ford's passable, and the bridge was a proper ugly piece of a usurper's work." Trumpkin tugged his foxy beard, button-black eyes twinkling. "Whistles and whirligigs, Vizier! Even I won't get my knees wet crossing in the worst o' the autumn rains! Bridge, indeed!"
"The Great Bridge of Tash is among the glories of the Empire," Alyoshka cried, and it seemed to Edmund he was not alone in lamenting Beruna's distinct shortage of bridges. Ahead, Rameesh had reined sharply back, his borrowed stallion scrabbling against the riverbank for a solid footing. "Fully thirty great arches of stone span the breadth of the Great River, joining the Tisroc (may he live for ever!) at his Imperial Palace with both sides of his obedient dominion! Such grace and scale would be unfitted for so crude a hamlet… crave pardon, I mean no offence of course…"
"None's taken, really," Edmund assured him, between gritted teeth. "After all, Beruna is a market town – not the capital city of a huge empire like yours."
"Indeed, great king, you speak with the justice for which your legendary reign was renowned!" A pair of excited hares leapt across their path, bringing the whimper of a baby (Eustace thought, firmly telling himself he hadn't been frightened in the least) to the Tarkaan's bloodless lips. "Venerable Highness! In the name of your father, the delight of all eyes! In the name of the Tisroc Tambolan whose reign must and shall be eternal! Permit your insignificant servant Alyoshka to enter these broiling waters before you! Do not permit, most valiant Narnians, the sacred foot of Tash's heir to be sullied by the filth of an alien river!"
"Would you care to drink before we pass on, Imperial Highness?" Caspian's expression remained regally calm, but the reins trembled in his abruptly tightened grasp. "Beruna water is famous for its purity: indeed my cousin will serve it at her table this evening. My dear – King Edmund, Queen Lucy! Shall we ford the stream together? I see Isabella approaching from the town gate."
"Allow that I lead the way, virtuous sovereigns!" Almost shoving his cringing servant aside, Rameesh plunged into the gentle, plashing water, his grey's ankles barely wetted. "Beauteous and admirable lady! We are charmed by the rustic sweetness of your dear town! Vizier! Let fall your age-dimmed gaze on yonder treasure and tell: have we such marvels of pastoral charm in Calormen?"
"None indeed, wisest and best of masters." The Vizier would never have entered the ford, Lucy was sure, without the surreptitious slap of his horse's hindquarter by a small, work-toughened hand. Trumpkin gave her a friendly wink, pushing his mule down the bank's gentle slope in pursuit.
"Need the parrot on the Imperial shoulder, Ma'am, before the compliments to the Duchess start flying," he said comfortably when she would have rebuked him. "Kingfishers and kettledrums! Be glad when this infernal palaver's over and we can get on with the business of governing Narnia."
"Or patrolling for pirates the farther side o' Narrowhaven," added Drinian with feeling. "Nay, Lucy; on your honour as a Queen, can you tell me you'd not like to be a hundred leagues from here for the rest of this Prince's visit?"
"Of course not, but he's only here for another three days. Hallo, Isabella! I thought Cor was going to be with you?"
"His Archenlandish Majesty requires his presence at the Council table, Queen Lucy." Perfect pearly teeth cut into a succulent lower lip. Edmund wondered if the Duchess realised quite how lovely she was; or how intently one of the newcomers observed her, his thin lips curling nastily at the mention of her absent fiance. "It seems we are not to be reunited until I visit Lionwood."
"Virtuous lady!" Rameesh turned with an actor's extravagance from the speaker to her nearest kinsman. "Renowned King, do you permit your maidens to venture unwed to the home of a gentleman? Can this - this - this..."
"Barbarian outrage, O scion of the Divine line!"
"Remarkable liberality," Rameesh amended with a twitch of the toe that sent his Vizier scuttling, "be commonly permitted by a moral prince?"
"My cousin hardly endangers her virtue, Highness." Among the townsfolk assembled with flags and flowers to welcome his party, Caspian sensed a stirring of resentment: not to be wondered at with the ancient term of contempt falling so readily from an honoured guest's lips, he admitted. "She travels with a party of four men-at-arms and three ladies, including Her Grace's devoted nurse, who has attended her from infancy. Besides, what man would challenge the honour of Narnia's kin?"
"Who indeed, that recalls the warlike prowess of this famous kingdom!" He backtracked more skilfully than his servants, Edmund admitted grudgingly. Firmly planting his mount alongside Isabella's, Rameesh nearly knocked down a small pair of sisters dashing to present nosegays to the King and Queen. He cast a considering look the length of the High Street, taking in the low whitewashed houses with their bright-painted doors and their flower-laden window boxes."How grievous it must be, gracious Madam, to depart this, your charming town! And to leave its citizens, so visibly devoted to yourself!"
"Your Highness is most kind, but in truth these crowds are come to show faith with my cousin." Lifting her hand in answer to the resounding cheers, her pale oval face coloured faintly. "See, Sire! The butcher raising his Dwarf neighbour up for a better sight of our procession!"
"Aye, and the Dwarf allowing a man's aid." Deep satisfaction enriched Caspian's light, merry tones. "A sight unlikely to have been seen five years ago, eh, Drinian?"
"Commonplace now, Your Majesty." Yet still, Edmund thought, remarkable enough to one who knew the thousand-year division between Man, Dwarf and Beast in these parts. Enough, too, to offend the sensibilities of their foreign guests, who regarded the balding middle-aged tradesman with a horror not all their ceremonious training could quite hide. "When does Your Grace leave for Lionwood?"
"Six weeks hence, my Lord, though we are to spend a week at Anvard on our way. Cor's stepmother resides there now you see: His Majesty has appointed her Mistress of the Robes to the Queen he hopes soon to find."
"Always did have a liking for the Lady Reginala when he was mere Prince Corin," Drinian remembered with a grin. Caspian shook his head until the golden curls were bouncing.
"I cannot imagine what manner of woman will wed such an oddity as my cousin!" he exclaimed. "Did you ever visit Lionwood, old friend, during your exile?"
"Nay Sire, though I sailed past a thousand times. During my exile through the usurper's reign, Imperial Highness, I served several years in the Archenlandish Fleet," Drinian explained. Rameesh nodded, giving his pointed beard a thoughtful rub.
"He'll have wax all over his hands now," said Eustace disgustedly, ducking a rain of flower petals tossed from the balcony of a large whitewashed house standing alone at a crossroads. "And they'll be stained with that ghastly red dye."
"Don't shake hands with him," Edmund advised. "Isn't Lionwood the village at the very mouth of the Winding Arrow, Isabella?"
"Indeed, King Edmund; the castle stands on a hilltop looking down on the village, with a path leading down to the shore."
"Windy, I imagine," said Eustace.
"Awfully picturesque, though," argued Lucy.
"More rugged, we must suppose, than the gentle pastoral lands which have nurtured this rare rose of Beruna!" cried Rameesh, snatching a sprig of blossom hurled from the crowd and presenting it with his familiar flourish to his neighbour. With a merry smile, Isabella tucked it behind her ear, a splash of scarlet against the jet gloss of her hair.
"The castle is among the finest in the kingdom; and His Archenlandish Majesty gives his word, Cor will be spared attendance at Anvard that we might give sufficient attention to my lands. We turn west at this crossroads, Imperial Highness; the path leads directly to the manor gates."
"Majestic!" cried Rameesh, lifting glowing eyes to the elegant granite house built around a small courtyard, coloured lanterns strung from its upper windows and among the ancient oaks that lined its broad sandy drive. "A natal place truly fitted for so divine a princess! Dearest lady! Have we the honour of dining in your halls this night?"
"No, we're going to eat in the barn," muttered Edmund disgustedly. Lucy tutted.
"I know he's an ass, but he's a harmless one," she whispered. "Even Isabella only laughs at his silliness now. I say! Did Caspian just say we're having a gathering at the Dancing Lawn for their last night here?"
"Aye, Ma'am." Drinian and Trumpkin shared a look of gleeful satisfaction. "His Majesty's suggestion," the tall man added quickly. "He thought it enlightening for our guests to see more o' Narnian society than he'll find at Cair Paravel."
Edmund grinned hugely. "I'm sure he will," he spluttered. "Has anyone told Rameesh yet?"
"I think," said Lucy, very seriously. "I should have Isabella do that. After all, if she says she's looking forward to seeing him there..."
"She should be lying through her teeth like the rest of us!"
"Most likely, Eustace." Trumpkin gave his russet jerkin a vicious tug straight at the hem. "Still, a few more days and we're rid o' the infernally chattering devils! And while they're here, at least we're properly fed! Lead on, Your Majesties! I can fairly taste that Beruna Broth already!"
"It must be a boy thing," muttered Lucy, casting off her dove-grey cloak in the large square hallway. "Honestly! All you ever think about is food!"