Ye Olde Disclaimer: I do not own Narnia. 'Nuff said.
Author's Note: Chapter 20! OK, maybe it doesn't have the courtship I promised, but that's gonna come later. Meanwhile, sit tight and read Chapter 20, masterfully and ever-so creatively entitled, "The Trap Is Set"! Bwahahaha! Anyway, enjoy!
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Chapter 20 ~ The Trap Is Set
If Glozelle did not hear the bells tolling midnight, he is surely deaf!
Their plan was straight—meet at midnight on the terrace, when no one would be about. And it was clear that it was midnight: It was dark and gloomy, as it always is at midnight, and the moon shone down from a thin veil of cloud that scudded across it. And yet Glozelle was not there.
But Miraz was. And at midnight, he was not patient. Especially when he had a dire plan that had to be mapped out. So, waiting there in the darkness of midnight, Miraz straightened the plan out in his own mind, imagining how he'd state it to Glozelle.
It seemed like a fairly simple plan: kill the king. But it was much more complex than that. Miraz was lucky that he was the prince, for many simple commoners and peasants were not allowed to even speak to the king, unless they had been arrested. The king was always surrounded by people—his doors were guarded as he slept. There was always some soldier—like the commander—who wanted to speak to him every waking hour of the day. And then there were festivals. The king was never let alone at a festival.
The guards at the door would be no interference, at the beginning of his plan. Miraz knew that guards could be bribed. They got a minimal compensation for their work, so they were always eager to earn more. The people who constantly spoke to the king would be no interference, either—once the king retired to his quarters for the night, they left him alone until dawn's first light.
The plan was flawless, perfect. Nothing stood in his way now. But it was harder now, after waiting for so long after so many opportunities. But he knew now that taking those opportunities would've proven fatal. Those opportunities were complex as well—and if Miraz had taken one of them, he would've never seen himself rule. There was more to killing a king than a knife.
"My lord!" A voice whispered behind him. Glozelle was standing there, interrupting Miraz's thoughts, garbed in a gray cloak and his usual plain tunic.
"Glozelle. So pleasant of you to finally be present." Miraz growled sarcastically. Glozelle backed away in defense. "Have you contacted your accomplice?"
"Sopespian? Aye." Glozelle replied brusquely. "He has agreed to your terms, and he will help you thwart Caspian."
"Good." Miraz confirmed. "He is a trustworthy man, is he not, Glozelle?"
"He is, sir, a very trustworthy man. He does not easily shift his ways. He's no traitor, sir."
Miraz nodded his consent. "Does he want pay?"
"No, sir."
"Good." Miraz repeated.
"Why do you ask, sir?"
"Leave it to a mercenary to commit treason, Glozelle."
There was a silence. "What is the plan, my lord?"
"I will tell you."
TO BE CONTINUED
