FOND FAREWELLS
A huge bonfire crackled at the centre of the Dancing Lawn, around which five circles of dancers, Human, Faun, Dwarf and Beast alike ran and skipped to the pipes and drums of a noisy band of not-entirely-tuneful fauns. In the closest to the flames, his orange and black skirts kicking up with every step, Rameesh spun between Queen Celesta and Duchess Isabella, clinging to both as his pointed shoes did their utmost to send him sprawling. "At least he's making an effort," said Lucy, her little legs giving way after a full hour spent skipping and spinning in the melee. "I rather thought he'd sit at side and refuse to join in."
"Dare say he would if Isabella and Celesta allowed it." Edmund crumpled beside her on the springy turf, shadows from the ring of flaming torches around the limits of the open festival ground skimming across his glowing face. "Ouf! One has to be fit for this!"
"Fitter than I am." Puffing noisily, Eustace threw himself onto his back, scanning the star-spangled sky with half-closed eyes. "Hullo, Glenstorm! We're not interrupting your studies, are we?"
"Not at all, sir." From a great height the Centaur dipped his shaggy head, making the powerful muscles of his human torso ripple. "Your Majesty! By your face, I fear the stars have not led me awry. Ill news, Sire?"
"Inconvenient more than ill, though my Lord Drinian may argue." Taking advantage of the shadow cast by the great creature's glossy chestnut hindquarter, the King sat heavily beside them, rubbing his creased brow. "His Imperial Highness has begged permission to sail to the limit of Narnian waters in our company aboard the Dawn Treader."
"Is that a problem?" asked Eustace.
"Bother!" said Lucy and Edmund.
"What had been a courtesy - our sailing in company - becomes a state occasion, Eustace," Caspian explained gloomily. "The whole Council and much of the court will board with us in the morning. There must be speeches and toasts and such like as we sail. In short, we shall be on display tomorrow, without liberty to loll on the fo'c'sle singing and telling tall tales. Bother!"
Edmund cleared his throat. "Does Drinian know yet?" he asked.
"Aye." With a jerk of the head Caspian directed their eyes to the tall figure of their friend, hands moving rapidly as he gave orders to three men of the Dawn Treader's company who, in their best clothes, had been given leave to attend the night's festivities. "And glad am I no lady was present to hear our gallant Captain's expressions of displeasure! Most instructive, but I must confess, not quite courtly."
Eustace sniggered.
They watched the sailors salute and scurry away. Drinian squared his shoulders, puffed out his cheeks and slipped back beyond the circle of torches, cautiously working his way through the darkness of the surrounding woods to the King's party.
"Damned infernal nuisance, begging Your Majesties' pardons," he growled, stretching out to his full length beside them. Caspian grinned.
"A moderate summary indeed, my Lord! Perhaps, Sir Glenstorm, this aggravating amendment to our settled plan is the seed of plague and pestilence the stars foretold from this Calormene visit."
The Centaur crossed strong arms across his bare chest. "Your Majesty may be assured, the Heavens did not deceive us. The seed of plague may be sown long before the effects of sickness show."
"True enough," agreed the King. "Aye, Lucy; the warning of the stars explains - in part at least - the anchorage of the Bolt of Tash far out in Lionmead Bay. If there's pestilence among our guests' company, the lower deck of a galley's the most likely breeding place."
"Rameesh certainly seems healthy enough." Every head was turned by the cautious caw of the Prince's reluctant laughter. On the farther side of the bonfire he had reached the big outer ring of dancers, with Isabella on one arm and his other hand engulfed by the great meat-plate that was Giant Wimbleweather's tentative grasp. "At the moment!" Edmund finished anxiously. "If Wimbleweather's not careful, he'll be going back to Tashbaan with every finger crushed! Drat the fellow! I really thought this was the last time I'd have to put up with hearing myself calledthe most Venerable and Ancient of Kings! Let's join in the dancing again, Lu; he's about to stop I think, and I'm blowed if I'm going to be standing about for him to attach himself to!"
They set out from Cair Paravel after breakfast; Caspian and Rameesh, followed by the three children, the Star's Daughter, Beruna's Duchess and the Mistress of Etinsmere with Trumpkin and Doctor Cornelius, the one in green velvet, the other his rusty black gown, and the whole of the Narnian court. "It would have been so much nicer if they'd just said goodbye over breakfast," Edmund groused, pushing his mount into a swerve to avoid the over-excited Chief Mouse who insisted on scurrying between hooves on his way to the cavalcade's head. "I say, Peep! Do be careful or someone's going to stand on you."
"My apologies, Sire!" Bowing low enough for the yellow feather he wore pinned behind a circlet of gold wire to brush the soil, Peepiceek skittered forward, ignoring the harrumph of the larger Beast lumbering behind the children's group.
"No harm done, Trufflehunter," said Eustace. The Badger scratched his broad striped snout.
"Not this time, young master; a Calormene might not be so considerate of a Mouse's paw as King Edmund, mind."
"Not a mouse, but a member of the King's High Council, Sir Badger," the Queen reminded him gently. "His Highness, what ever his flaws, has shown great respect to that! Daniela! What are the crew doing, hanging from the rigging so?"
"We're to be cheered aboard, Ma'am." With a smile to the groom who ran to catch her bridle, Daniela vaulted lightly down from the saddle at the wide harbour gates. "See! Drinian will be most uncomfortable, forced to manage his ship in full uniform! White hose, he says: which infernal idiot thought that a sensible uniform for sailors?"
"One of his ancestors, I should imagine," said Lucy, quite failing to repress her giggles. Every man wore the white silk hose and blue velvet tunic of the Narnian Royal Fleet instead of the more practical wool and leather of normal service, and while they looked impressive it was, she admitted, a hopelessly impractical choice. "Has Rameesh finished apologising for making him leave Dancing Lawn early last night, Daniela?"
"Nay, Ma'am, though I told naught but truth in declaring it his custom to spend the night before sailing aboard." Her coffee eyes dancing, Daniela shepherded her little party forward in Caspian's wake along the harbour wall toward the lowered gangway. "Besides, the prospect of the whole court cluttering his decks put my good Captain into such a bad temper, I was glad to see him go!"
"I hope we shan't get under his feet too much," said Eustace, startled. "He never seemed bothered by us on the Eastern quest."
"We are seasoned travellers, Eustace." Caspian, stopped to gather his companions at the gangplank's base, smiled merrily. "Imperial Highness, shall we board? Ladies and gentlemen, I see we have benches and tables on the maindeck; be kind enough to use them, and permit our shipmates to attend their business unmolested! My dear - Lucy - boys. Shall we lead the way?"
Drinian stood at the entryport, his uniform identical to that of the crew save for the gold at his wrists and shoulders and a broad belt of gem-studded gold at his waist. "Welcome aboard, Your Majesty," he called over the last echo of the crew's cheers. "The Dawn Treader stands fit for sea, Sire."
"We never doubted it for a moment." Caspian returned his friend's formal bow. "And shall do our utmost to cause no disruption to the smooth running of your ship. My lords and ladies all, hurry aboard! I see the Bolt of Tash stands off the coast awaiting us."
"Oh, my! I can scarce keep my footing, is this horrid walkway moving?"
"Lund, catch Linetia's hand; and do stop making such a fuss, dear! You're not even off the quay yet. Lund! Are you going to help your wife, or simply stand and let her make a complete ninny of herself?"
"Perhaps we should clear the entryport, Your Majesties." As the Lord of Beaversdam, a slow-moving heavyset man who reminded Lucy of nothing so much as a Bulgy Bear just out of hibernation, shuffled to take his shrill silver-blonde wife's arm, Drinian just managed to avoid rolling his eyes at them. Malica, Lady Passarid, small and merry with a plain, freckled face and an infectious smile, positively skipped through the chattering scrum, throwing herself onto one of the stools placed along the landward bulwark.
"You shan't mind my snatching a good seat, my Lord Drinian?" she called, brushing off the scandalised stare of their foreign guest as easily as she did Linetia Beaversdam's affronted sniffs. The tension tightening his features softened briefly.
"Keep my cousin Ninian from the poop, Ma'am, and you may sit where ever you please. Imperial Highness, the moment we're clear of the bay we shall reef sail and cruise beside your galley. My lady."
"Captain." To the unutterable astonishment of his friends, Drinian actually blushed as he stooped to kiss his wife's proffered hand. "Linetia dear, if you feel ill sit close to one of the buckets at the side of the deck."
"Thank you, Daniela, I really do feel most odd." Lady Beaversdam clutched the taffrail with one hand, the other pressed dramatically to her brow. Malica Passarid snorted inelegantly.
Caspian frowned. "I rather like her," said Lucy. Linetia Beaversdam pressed a long white hand to her brow.
"Oh! Is the boat going to rock so dreadfully for the whole journey?"
"The ship is still at anchor; there's no movement at all yet!" With an apologetic shrug, Daniela hastened to guide the protesting woman away from a knot of sailors around the entryport waiting to heave the gangway aboard, all of them gaping at the lady as if she wore two heads and a pair of green fins. Caspian cleared his throat.
"Yes, well, if we are all safe aboard, my Lord Captain," he said lamely. Drinian snapped off an immaculate salute.
"Man the capstan! Sailmen, away aloft! Hold her steady, helmsman: she'll fairly leap when the anchor's off the bottom!"
Linetia Beaversdam's groan was drowned in the flurry of purposeful activity his orders unleashed. Settling with Caspian's party on the forecastle, Lucy lifted her face to the sun and let her tongue trace the first shimmer of salt from her parted lips. "Glorious!" she exclaimed. "Really, Caspian, we've been on shore much too long!"
"Spoken as a true mariner, Queen Lucy." Rameesh, it seemed to Caspian, had taken a faint greenish tinge with the first shiver of movement through the keel. "When we are clear of the bay, Imperial Highness, luncheon will be served on the maindeck; and I believe Rynelf will be freed from his tasks to entertain us on the accordion."
"Charming, Sire!" The Prince did not sound entirely sincere. For the first time since the Imperial party had landed in Narnia, Eustace agreed with him wholeheartedly.
At least, he thought later, the tinny shriek of the instrument helped drown Imperial conversation at the picnic table. The drone of Rameesh's ceremonious compliments seemed even more annoying now he knew he was soon to escape them.
"Tisrocs probably die of boredom from hearing everyone hoping they'll live for ever," he whispered. Lucy grinned into her wine cup.
"Lots of them have died young because their sons have been terrified they might!" she replied. "Gracious, are we having to luff the sail again? Galleys really don't suit strong currents, do they?"
"Your Majesty's verdant shores are subject to stronger tides than we of the South ever know." Rameesh folded his long hands around the twisted stem of his green glass goblet. "Gracious sovereigns, pray tell: why does not our esteemed Lord Drinian entrust the menial matters of seamanship to these hirelings? Is their obedience so little to be relied upon that a gentleman must so exert himself?"
Even Lady Beaversdam stopped whimpering. Ninian Greenglade froze with a piece of game pie halfway to his mouth. Eustace was sure the only movement on the maindeck was the fractional twitch of Caspian's clenching jaw.
"Hirelings!" hissed Peepiceek, unnoticed behind the bench at Caspian's feet.
"I'm surprised he didn't say slaves, actually," muttered Edmund.
"Our crew are entirely to be relied upon, Imperial Highness," the King said at length, matching the Calormene's careful enunciation of each word. "Were they not, my Lord Drinian would never entrust his master's life to their care! However, matters of navigation and seamanship are not, in Narnia, considered in any sense menial; and to steer a great ship so near another vessel, keeping pace in such dangerous seaways, is a task for a seasoned mariner. There is none more competent than my Lord High Admiral to steer our course."
"Won't you have more wine, Imperial Highness?" The Duchess of Beruna offered the flagon to her neighbour, her gentle courtesy smooth over the awkward silence following the King's speech. Lucy let out the breath she had been holding.
"Will you pass the cream please, Daniela?" she asked, ignoring the suspicious looks from boys who knew she never took anything but custard with her apple crumble. "Perhaps we should take Drinian a plate of something - there's venison pie, and slices of roast goose; and surely he'll need a drink after hours on duty? I know the galley's rowing awfully close, but it wouldn't hurt to leave Rhince at the helm for long enough to have some lunch with us!"
The gentleman's wife laughed. "Goodness, Ma'am, no!" she cried. "Your Majesty understands, of course?"
"I believe so." Caspian grinned fondly toward the great wheel. Rameesh clapped his hands.
"Gracious sovereign, in the name of Tash, the inexorable, the invincible, enlighten us!"
"Yes, do stop talking in riddles, both of you," agreed Edmund, wiping the last pastry crumbs from his chin.
"My friend prefers that his two worlds - court and the sea - be kept distinct," said Caspian simply. "To his crew, he is the Captain; to his present passengers, the Lord of Etinsmere. To bring the two together makes him uncomfortable."
"Hence his retreat into that where he feels most at ease," Daniela concluded. "Why, Isabella! Did you not see how bashful he became, welcoming his wife to his ship? This is Captain Drinian's world. Your Majesties have shared it; you know the Captain as well as the nobleman. To court society, he is no less a stranger than the Master of Etinsmere is to this crew."
"I suppose I see," said Edmund slowly, while Eustace, Isabella and the gentleman's Greenglade cousin cried out their protests. "Think of someone calling us Your Majesty in the other place - England, rather - Lu. It wouldn't half give a chap a turn! I say! Is that the Giant's Toe?"
"It is, King Edmund." Drinian had seen it too: hands cupped to his mouth, he bawled the orders which backed the Dawn Treader's huge purple sail and stopped the ship dead, her timbers quivering against the current's strength. "Here, Imperial Highness, we must part. Captain! Shall we have the boat lowered?"
"No cause for that, Your Majesty." Drinian bowed from his station, and suddenly Lucy knew whatever was about to happen had been plotted between the two men in advance. "Imperial Highness, if your captain would be so kind as to boat his oars, we'll lay alongside and hook on the grappling lines. You can step from our deck to yours in a moment."
"An estimable feat of Narnia's famed seamanship, my Lord!" Eyes which had widened at the prospect of clambering into a small gig closed briefly in unspoken relief. "Lasarel! Withdraw the oars! We are in your hands, sir."
Proudly the children and Caspian looked on as the Dawn Treader was eased alongside the lower, longer Bolt of Tash, bumping against her with barely a shudder as her strong grappling chains were thrown across.
Caspian fired a glance the length of the ship. Visibly squaring his shoulders, Drinian pattered down the poop ladder, taking his place among the Royal councillors to make a farewell bow.
"Imperial Highness, We wish you safe passage to Tashbaan," Caspian called, climbing onto the bulwark to balance precariously as the linked ships rocked on a gentle swell. "Your visit has been the greatest of honours to Us and Our realm. We trust it has been both pleasurable and instructive to Your Imperial Highness; and that you leave with fond memories of Narnia and the faithful friends you have made. Aslan bless Your Highness, your party and your Imperial father, His Serenity Tisroc Tambolan. May he truly, in the words of your great filial prayer, live for ever; and may the Empire of Calormen eternally prosper in his care."
"Most gracious sovereign!" Followed by his cringing vizier, Rameesh moved slowly along the line of Narnians, brushing brows in low reverences with the men and kissing the tense hands of the ladies. Lucy was thankful to see even the Star's Daughter discreetly wiping the back of her hand against her peach satin skirt when he had passed by. "The blessings of Tash, the inexorable, the invincible, fall like summer rain upon this hospitable kingdom for all eternity! May his great wings spread protection over Your most renowned Majesty, your revered and radiant consort, your just and valiant predecessors and your great and generous servants! Be assured, my noble and honoured friends, this your kindness to Us and Ours shall be recorded in the annals of Calormen for all of time; that I depart these prosperous and noble lands with emotions of the deepest reverence and respect, wishing your Graces all, Man, Dwarf and Beast alike, many eons of peace and fruitfulness in all you do! In the name of that divine ancestor, the founder of my ancient and venerable line: in the name of Tash and his servant, the delight of all eyes, my father the Tisroc Tambolan, whose reign all the servitors of the gods demand must be eternal: thanks and blessings upon you! And - if I may be permitted this indulgence! Beauteous Duchess - gracious Isabella, accept from your most humble servitor the warmest wishes for your everlasting happiness in matrimony! This parting is too sorrowful to be borne - dear friends, farewell!"
"By Jove, he does have to be dramatic," muttered Edmund, who had to be nudged by his sister to wave as the Prince leapt down from the rail, sunlight lancing from the ruby atop his orange turban as he vanished to his galley's much lower deck. "They're not wasting time hauling back the grappling hooks! Are we coming about immediately, Drinian?"
"Aye, King Edmund; with your permission, Sire."
"Go to it, my Lord Admiral." With great determination Caspian turned his back on the gaudy galley, painted red and green that crawled southward from his dominions. "Lion be thanked, we are free of those infernally chattering slaves! My ladies and gentlemen all, our thanks for your support these past trying weeks!
"Glad to be of service, Your Majesty," said Trumpkin instantly. "Only wish we could have got that confounded treaty out o' the devils afore they left. Soup and celery! Never heard so much flowery flummery in all my days. Is there any of that pie left, I'm properly starved!"