Disclaimer: I do not own Narnia. 'Nuff said.

Author's Note: Gasp! Could it be? Yes, it is! I like to call this the Chapter of Judgment. DUN DUN DUN!!! I hope you like the "wrapping up" of things in this chapter! OK, so maybe not everything is summed up yet...but it will be soon! Enjoy.

Chapter 29 ~ Caspian's Traitor

Miraz could not waste time. He felt the dawn of his noble deed rising before him, black and cold like the dusk that he faced racing across the plains back to the castle. Now he dismissed the warm lights of the castle. In those lights he would slay the monster who'd risen to power. In those lights he would be named the Lord Protector of the kingdom over his brother's grave. There was no doubting it: by the dawn, the castle would be without a king.

He approached the castle, not slowing his horse but charging through the open gates and down the cobblestone streets, rain still streaking his vision and thunder pounding at his ears like his throbbing heart. The knife at his side seemed to burn, searing the leather it was incased in. Though the night was cool sweat slid across his brow as he clenched the reins, riding speedily toward the castle gate. He heard the guard say something to him but he could not hear what it was he said. He only slowed when he arrived at the stables, where he dismounted and walked quickly to the terrace.

To his surprise, Elizabeth was standing there, watching him, a grimace wrinkling her brow. She was wearing a thick dress and a cloak to keep of the rain that blew into the veranda. As Miraz walked by her she caught his arm.

"Miraz." She said, raising her voice over the rain. "Where are you going?"

"I must…consult my brother." Miraz replied breathily, pulling his arm out of her grasp. "Do you know where he is?"

"In the bell tower. He seemed troubled." She explained, softer than before. "So do you. Is something wrong?"

Miraz paused, then said. "No, Elizabeth. But I must…I must speak with him. Farewell."

And he disappeared around the corner, walking quickly toward the bell tower.

He stopped abruptly when he came to the door leading up to the tower. He knew his brother was up there. He knew why. He had seen his brother's suspicious gaze when he was summoned to his quarters. Caspian should've spoken to someone of his suspicions earlier, for now it was too late, for his murderer now climbed the stairs.

As he climbed, Miraz remembered his father, the powerful eighth king of Telmarine Narnia, who had died a weak, sick old man in his bed. He remembered looking at his father's sad, dreary eyes, glittering with tears, as he died. "How could you?" He had whispered, after hearing of his son's plot. "How could you…" Miraz dismissed the thought quickly as he felt a tear sliding down his face. He grimaced, remembering Prunaprismia's reaction to his ambition, as well. She had looked at him with piercing, betrayed eyes, as if Miraz told her it was she whom he would murder. He dismissed that thought as well.

Miraz was now in the small room just below the belfry. Caspian was standing above him within it. He opened the hatch to it and climbed up. As soon as he saw the form of his brother standing there, head hung, a pang of fear washed over him. He entered silently, half unsheathing the knife.

"Brother," He murmured. Thunder rumbled in the bowels of the storm. Caspian did not turn to face him.

"Miraz." He said quietly. "Why are you here?"

"I…" Miraz trailed off, searching for words. "Caspian, I wish to…make my peace with you. I know…there is bad blood between us…and I hope that now…there won't be." He unsheathed the knife. It rang quietly as he held it in his hand. His heart raced, filling his ears once again. My treachery is yours. The voice rang in his ears like his pounding heart. He sighed heavily, waiting for his brother to reply.

"So, you finally see sense, Miraz?" Caspian said mournfully. It sounded as if he were crying. "There is bad blood between us, brother. What should've been in our past should now be." He turned to face Miraz. "I'm sorry."

Miraz let him see the knife, feeling tears come to his eyes. Caspian's gray eyes widened, staring at the knife and then at Miraz, his face filled with horror. He tried to back away, but then looked down the side of the bell tower to see the dizzying drop to the courtyard below.

"Miraz—" He stammered fearfully. "What are you—what are you—"

"I will not fall prey to a tyrant's rule, Caspian." Miraz growled shakily, his hand visibly trembling. "I will not tolerate a guilty soul." He walked forward, his breaths quickening as his heart raced faster. "Feel the betrayal. Feel the pain that I've suffered for all my years!"

He ran forward, crying out as he lunged toward his brother. He knew when the knife had met its mark. The color drained from Caspian's face, his bright eyes looking to the sky and his breaths becoming deeper and slower as warm liquid flowed from them. Miraz almost thought he was smiling. But tears were sliding down his cheeks.

"So…" He whispered. "This is how it ends, then? A…tyrant's rule…a vain ambition…and a…bloody…betrayal…" He grasped Miraz's arm, his hand trembling horribly. Thunder rumbled as Miraz laid him on the stone, letting only one tear fall. Caspian died.

It was over. His deed was done. He had committed his treachery…now he was Caspian's traitor, and betrayal's brother.

He fled from the tower as quickly as he could, taking his knife with him and leaving his brother laying there on the belfry. He ran through the halls toward the terrace, where he had met Elizabeth only moments before. She still stood there, looking out on the rain-swept courtyard. She saw Miraz and looked naively at him.

"Miraz." She said vaguely.

"Elizabeth," Miraz said hastily, his voice tight and his eyes wet with tears. "Elizabeth, I bring—I bring grave news."

"What is it, my lord?" She asked urgently, meeting his gaze.

"The king—the king—the king is dead!"

Fear flooded into Elizabeth's eyes. "The king is—dead? By whom?"

Miraz swallowed hard, then gasped, "I'm afraid, Elizabeth, that he was slain by your husband's hand."

TO BE CONTINUED