At the next battle, on Peter's request, Sam stayed in the back lines as an archer instead of going sword-to-sword in the heart of the battle. As arrow after arrow twanged in her borrowed bow, Sam spotted Edmund fighting below. He was doing well. She watched him deflect blow after blow until an arrow whizzed past her ear and she realized she should pay attention.

That battle waged for three days, and the hospitals were flooded with Naylian and Narnian wounded alike. Edmund was not one of them, but Sam was.

A tired-looking faun messenger raced up to Peter.

"High King Peter, High King Peter! Lady Samantha's been hurt, she has!"

Peter stopped dead. "Hurt? How badly?"

"The healers don't know, Sir King, they don't know. They want Your Majesties to come right away!"

"Good, we will come. Please, good faun, do me a favor."

"Anything, Sire."

"Please search the tents for King Edmund and the Queens and tell them to meet me at the hospital. Make them come however you can."

"Yes, High King, I will go!"

The faun raced away, muttering about Lady Samantha hurt, must tell the Majesties!

"We really need to pay them more," Peter muttered.

"We don't pay them."

Peter jumped and looked rapidly about him for the source of the voice.

"It's only me, Peter," said Susan, falling into step beside him.

"Susan! I knew if Sam was here, you and Lucy would be close."

"You were wise to think so. I'm sure the faun will find Lu and Edmund in time."

Together they went to the hospital tent. They weren't ten feet inside before a medic stopped them.

"Your Majesties! Lady Samantha is here, she is hurt-"

"We know," Peter cut her off. "Can you take us to her?"

The medic nodded and scurried with surprising precision among the many cots and nurses. The pounding of feet behind them assured that Edmund and Lucy were on their way. Lucy arrived first, out of breath with concern shining in her eyes. Edmund, on the other hand, was furious.

"How dare she come here!" he spat. "Did you know about this?" He turned on Peter, eyeing blazing.

"Yes, I knew she was here."

"And you didn't tell me?! Do I, of all people, not have a right to now?"

"It was Sam's choice."

"Sam's choice!" Edmund sputtered. "I think not! You control your own mouth, don't you?"

"Edmund!" Peter barked. "Control yourself. You and I both know you're just worried about Sam. Don't take it out on me."

Edmund huffed and stared at the nurse leading them to Sam. Finally, after a solid five minutes of weaving past other patients, they saw Sam's bed.

Susan rested a hand on Edmund's shoulder. Sam was asleep, or unconscious, on the cot. All they could see of her wounds was a white bandage wrapped around her upper arm and the many shallow scratches on her face.

"How bad is it?" Lucy asked.

"Nothing life-threatening."

Edmund visibly relaxed.

"That gash with keep her from fighting for a while, and a touch of food poisoning may add a few days to her recuperation."

"Thanks. We'll come back alter to check on her," said Susan, and then steered Edmund away. He slipped away from her and stole back to Sam to plant a kiss on her cheek, and then left with his siblings.