Disclaimer: I do not own Narnia or its characters. All of these spoken of therein belong to the beloved author, C.S. Lewis, who belongeth to the great Author Himself.

Author's Note: The tension strengthens! Here is chapter seven, aptly named Leaving, 'cause that's what it's all about. Short, short chapter explaining the departure of the Telmarines under Steiphen. Enjoy! Read and review.

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~Chapter Seven: Leaving~

"Your Highness, we are waiting for you."

The young guard stood at the door. Miraz turned to face him. He wanted to spend any last spare moment he had in his chamber, thinking of Nurse, of Cornelius, even of how close he had gotten to ending the conflict between he and his brother the past night. He knew that he needed time away from the castle—time to think about what he would do about what his mother had said to him.

"Your highness?"

"Oh—I will be out soon." Miraz said dismissively, picking up his satchel. It was as heavy as his internal burdens.

The guard continued standing in the doorway. "The Commander will not be left waiting." He declared adamantly.

Miraz sighed and followed him out.

Morning light flooded the terrace. It was still the spring months, but usually it was quite rainy. The clouds on the horizon told Miraz the sun wouldn't be out for long. Steiphen awaited him on the veranda, turning his head slightly when he came ambling up, dressed in a simple white tunic, brown vest, and long cloak. A leather satchel hung at his side. He now wore a short arming-sword there, as well, for he was now a squire in the Order. Steiphen looked somewhat anxious and jittery, but cloaked it well with his usual grave expression.

"My horse is saddled and ready." Miraz informed, looking up at the Commander.

"Good." Steiphen replied brusquely. He tilted his head in a gesture to follow him. "Come."

They both walked down to the courtyard, where many other anxious knights were waiting, pulling their horses out of the stables or already mounted and awaiting further commands from their leader. The commander swung onto his mount and looked up into the sky, as if watching the clouds. Miraz mounted his own horse, throwing his satchel over the pommel. Grabbing the reins, he knew he was ready to leave the castle.

"Steiphen!"

From the terrace, Miraz looked up to see the slim, delicate form of Elizabeth running up to meet Steiphen, who was now her husband. Her bright blue eyes glittered dully in the sunlight, glistening with tears. She wore a black gown as if she were mourning the death of someone close to her—and she very well could be, especially since Steiphen was leaving to go on campaign.

Steiphen dismounted, rather confused. But he was no longer incoherent when Elizabeth wrapped her arms around his neck and gave him a sorrow-filled kiss. Her scarred hand gripped his shoulder, stroking his coif. She let a tear fall down her face.

"I didn't want to let you leave without saying good-bye." Her cold voice whispered.

Steiphen stroked her cheek. "Good-bye, my love. I will return to you safely." He murmured.

Elizabeth watched him mount and look at the daunted faces of his men.

"All right, you lot!" He called. "Form up! It's time to leave." Elizabeth seemed to be swelling with pride. Everything was a blur to Miraz. His father was not present. Nor was his brother. But he did catch his mother's pale eyes watching him from a dark corner in the terrace, leaning on her small staff intently. Everything that was said between them last night came flooding back into his memory again—

And he noticed the knife was still at his side. He touched it. With that knife I almost killed my brother, he thought, scared of himself.

As they galloped out of the courtyard and into the streets, and finally into the wilderness, Miraz didn't look back. Not once.

But all the way, he felt his mother's eyes watching him.

TO BE CONTINUED