A/N Sorry this chapter took me forever to write. If anyone has any constructive ideas to make it better it would be appreciated. Ari
Gereral disclaimer: doesn't belong to me, that's why it's posted under fanfiction.
Swords clashed as the Mountains met the Narnians. Peter quickly dispatched the two warriors who rushed at him as General Gaine started to circle him. Gaine knocked Peter off his horse and started to strike toward Peter. Peter ducked, with stunning agility, as the blade swished harmlessly over his head. He began an offensive strike and Gaine easily blocked his drive. Metal clashed on metal and a loud "chink" resonated though out the battlefield.
"Are you really ready for me boy?" Gaine chided as he returned a strike.
"I've been trained by the best swordsmen in Narnia." Peter rebuked back with an air of superiority. "I've conquered battles over giants. My army is already defeating yours."
"My people will never be defeated as long as there's still breath in my body." As if drawing power from him anger, Gaine started to hit harder and faster. Peter struck back fiercely, matching clash for clash until he lost his footing. On the ground with his sword out of arms reach, all he could do was twist out of the way from Gaine's relentless stabs. After he defeated a couple warriors of his own, Edmund looked around too see his Narnians easily overtaking the weaker army. He then looked towards Peter and saw him falter briefly against the dark beast Gaine and fall to the ground. Edmund road up in haste as Peter scouted away from another stab. The blade missed Peter, but sliced deep in to the meat of Edmund's calf. Rich crimson blood welled up from the gash, but Edmund didn't even register the pain. He just slid down off Philip and met Gaine one on one. After taking a couple hard strikes with his shield, Edmund watched carefully as Gaine shifted his weight to his back foot. It was a minute's pause but Edmund read it as his advantage. Gaine tried to block blow after blow from the younger man, but he couldn't hold him off. Edmund brought his sword up and drove it deep into the larger man's chest. He stood there looking at the body trying to catch his breath that for some reason he couldn't control.
"They've retreated Sire," a voice said behind Edmund. He knew it was General Oreius but for some reason it seemed so far away.
"All right pull back the troops," Peter responded as he picked himself up off the ground. "Are you all right Edmund? You should have that gash looked at by the medic."
"I'm… fhuz," Edmund wanted to respond. "Rhallly! Um fhuz." He tried to turn around and tell his brother he as fine, but he mouth couldn't form the words. His own legs seemed to betray him as a cold tingling coursed thought out his body. Why did his head feel for funny?
"Edmund?" This was not like his brother who normally shook off superficial injuries. "Edmund!" Peter shouted in anguish as he watched his brother's eyes roll up into his head and collapse to the ground in a heap. "Get the medic now!" He called rushing to Edmund's side. "Come on Edmund wake up." Edmund's eyes fluttered briefly at the mention of his name, but his breath hitched in his throat. Peter knelt down on the ground, holding his brother, unsure of what to do for a moment. Lucy's cordial, it was Edmund's only hope. Peter reached into his pocket for the vial of cordial. His hand came up empty. He searched his other pocked and felt the familiar smooth shape. It was empty old vial from a previous battle. Not even one drop to heal Edmund! There had to be some residue on the sides. In desperation Peter swished his finger around the vial and placed it into his brother's mouth. Nothing happened.
"Please Ed, please, you have to wake up," Peter pleaded. Edmund felt cold, too cold. A chill of realization hit Peter, Edmund was… no couldn't be. A small cut couldn't harm him. He was invincible in battle. Besides he promised Susan he would come home safe, by Christmas none less. A brown bear came up beside Peter and gently pulled him away from Edmund's still form. "No!" Peter clutched his younger brother body tighter as if daring anyone else to try and hurt him.
"Your Majesty, please, let me take a look at King Edmund," she said. He looked at her hapless for a moment before nodding.
"Of cores Ursinus, if anyone could help him it would be you." The large bear took a couple minutes to look over the wound on Edmund's leg and shook her head mournfully. She turned back to Peter with tears streaming down her cheeks.
"I'm so sorry Your Majesty, but I'm afraid the wound was poisoned. There's nothing I can do, King Edmund is already…" She couldn't finish the statement as her voice faltered. "I fear he's no longer breathing." Everyone stood in shock; it was such a simple wound. It seemed their warrior, King Edmund the Just, had been killed by a poised blade.
Peter couldn't move. His face remained stoic but his hands trembled terribly. His sword quaked before he could no longer stand it's weight and dropped it with a clank. A hand came up and rested on his solder. Peter looked up and saw the solemn face of Oreius. "What are your orders Your Majesty?" He asked. Peter looked at the ground for a minute trying to fight the tears welling up in his eyes.
"I…" Peter took a deep breath to regain control of his emotions. "He is with Aslan now. We will mourn King Edmund when we return back to Cair Paravel. His sword belongs to him, but his crown and his shield belong to Narnia and her people. Build a raft. The river gods will carry King Edmund to the edge of Aslan's country were he will be welcomed. As he sails down the river all of Narnia may pay their respects to their fallen King. May Aslan, the Great Lion, permit him to enter his glorious land."
"What about the beast man Sire?"
"Take his sword, burn the body. Do the same for the rest of those people as well." The words were laced with poison; this was the man who killed his beloved brother.
"Should we send word ahead to let our beloved Queens know?"
"No, they need to hear it from me. I'll address the troops shortly. I need a minute of my own." With that Peter stormed off deep into a valley and let out a primal scream. It resonated off the mountain walls and every Narnian in the area lowered their head in mourning. After a couple more screams Peter returned back to the camp with red eyes and flushed skin. Ursinus gave her distraught king a warm moist towel to wipe his face. "Thank you." He sniffed. "Good bear; can you gather the troops together for me?"
"Anything for you, You're Majesty." All the Narnians gather as King Peter tried to keep steady. He had to stay strong, but his hands still quaked betraying his anguish. He surveyed the army as they approached. There were very few casualties and a couple severe injuries. The Mountain People had fled once Edmund had killed their general.
"My fellow Narnians, as you all know King Edmund the Just died today in battle. He will be honored in the manner befitting a King of Narnia up on our return to Cair Paravel and all who wish to pay their respects are welcome. The castle will be open to any and all mourners. Though we may have won this battle and defeated the Mountain troops, we will ride back with the black flags of defeat. Narnia has suffered a great loss today and anyone who wishes counsel with me tonight shall have it. I would in fact welcome the company. Now all of you will raise your swords and honor King Edmund the Just, Duke of Lantern's Waste. Once a King or Queen of Narnia always a King or Queen of Narnia, even in death." He pulled Rhindon out and knelt down on the ground. "May Aslan guide King Edmund and grant him passage into his lands. May Aslan also guide us though this difficult time for all of Narnia will miss him." They then turned and watched as the small raft carrying Edmund's body drifted peacefully down the river.
Lucy was playing a game of chess in the conservatory with Mr. Tumnes as Susan was working on an extensive cross stitch of Narnia.
"That's going to look beautiful when you're done with it." Lucy told Susan as she moved her knight on the board.
"You should let me teach you to stitch," Susan replied.
"I can't sit still that long. Please don't take this the wrong way, but I find cross stitch boring."
"I find chess boring."
"Chess can be quite thrilling; it's all about trying to be three steps a head of your opponent. I just hope I can become as good as Peter and Edmund."
"It's the only thing that can keep those two sitting for more than a couple minutes." It was a well known fact though out Narnia that King Peter and Edmund's chess games would last weeks at a time, sometimes even a month. The two brothers would spend hours thinking of their next move, but ultimately Peter usually won.
"If I say my dear Lucy," Mr. Tumnes said, "you're becoming very skilled yourself but… checkmate I'm afraid."
"Ahh Mr. Tumnes, you may have won this battle but you've not won the war. How about best out of three?" At the moment a loud trumpeting was hear though out Cair Paravel. Lucy perked up instantly. "It's Peter and Edmund. Come on Susan, Peter and Edmund are home." She grabbed her older sister's hand as they ran, very un queen like, through the corridors. The two Queens reached the drawbridge huffing and giggling as the waited for their brother's to enter. As the drawbridge lifted only one horsed figure approached the castle and Lucy's breath hitched in her throat. "Susan where's Edmund?"
"I don't know Lu," Susan's voice shook with fear as Peter's form came closer. "But that's the black flag meaning… you don't think that Edmund…"
"No can't be, they promised. You know Edmund would never break a promise."
"Ed promised that Peter would come back safe." As Peter reached the castle the girls ran toward him. He got off his horse and presented his sisters with Edmund's crown and shield, and instantly fell to his knees. Lucy instantly wrapped her arms around him and sobbed into his shoulder. Susan still shocked for a moment and then slapped Peter. "No Peter. Tell me you're lying; tell me that Edmund is fine. No!" Peter grasped his sister as she pounded his chest and screamed. "I don't believe you, I don't…" she trailed off sobbing. "How could Aslan let this happen?"
As the small raft carrying Edmund floated down the river, it got caught when it entered the opening of a small lake. A young woman hummed as she walked out of her hut with a large basket of wash. "It's brisk out today," she said as an older woman came out behind her with the soap.
"Let's just get this done before the lake freezes for the winter My Lady." The two women walked down to the banks of the lake. The younger woman knelt down and then noticed a dark spot out of the corner of her eye.
"Laia come here," She called. "What do you suppose that is?"
"It looks like a boat My Lady." The younger woman made her way though the trees and reeds to get a closer look at the small craft trapped in the reeds. She gasped when she realized the raft was occupied. "Laia come quick there's a man on here." The older woman ran down as fast as she could. The younger woman put her head to the man's chest. "He's breathing! Quick, he's cold as ice; we need to get him inside."
"My lady he looks like a Narnian soldier. If your father finds him here you…"
"That doesn't matter right now he needs to get warm." The two women dragged the young man into her hut.