Chapter Eleven
As the morning went on, I settled down to practice on my own. I hopped on Anduril and practiced battle maneuvers with him, wheeling around on the field, slashing my sword at imaginary enemies. Suddenly, the quiet spring morning was interrupted by the harsh sound of some kind of horn. Then from the center of camp I heard a gruff voice calling, "Make way, make way! Make way for the true Queen of Narnia!" The name sent chills down my spine. Andy snorted. Without any direction from me, he flew down the hill towards the middle of camp.
When we arrived, there was silence except from the sound of the White Witch's slaves and the few soldiers she'd brought with her. There were hideous creatures, and the hulking form of a minotaur lumbered by. The Witch herself was in a chair carried by several slaves. She spoke sharply, and they gently set it on the ground. She stood, tall and beautiful, as she waited for the Great Lion. As I watched, I trembled with anger. It blinded my reason, and I slowly drew my sword from its sheath. Now I could avenge Rooner. I pushed through the crowd, trying to get to her. But a strong hand on my shoulder stopped me. I turned and saw Peter standing behind me. He didn't look at me, but he shook his head. I slowly put away my sword, still trembling with hate.
At this moment, Aslan stepped forward. The Witch didn't waste any time. "Have you forgotten, Aslan? It is written into the Deep Magic that every traitor belongs to me. That boy is mine. He must be killed." She pointed one long, thin white finger at Edmund, who had emerged from his tent and joined his sisters and brother. At this declaration, Peter yanked out his sword and pointed it at her and cried, "Then you'll have to take him!" She just laughed and smiled mockingly at him. Aslan motioned her inside his tent.
What seemed like forever passed. I went and joined the Pevensies where they were sitting on the grass. Edmund sat quietly with his legs folded up in front of him, his chin resting on his knees. He just stared at the grass. Susan and Lucy tried to comfort him, hugging him and saying, "Don't worry Ed, Aslan won't let her have you. He can't." Peter just paced back and forth, his face red with frustration. I just chewed my lip, and watched Edmund. He looked so vulnerable and miserable. Nothing like the boy who had been such a pain in the neck earlier. My views toward him softened a little. "Edmund," I spoke up, and they all looked at me. Edmund's eyes left the patch of grass he had been burning a whole into and scanned my face. "You'll be fine Edmund. Aslan won't let the Witch have you. Not after all the trouble we've gone through to get you back. And without you, the Prophecy won't be fulfilled. Aslan will think of something. I don't know what, but he won't let her have you back." His eyes lingered on me for a moment more, and then went back to the grass. I sighed. Well, I tried. Susan and Lucy went back to comforting him. "She's right Edmund; we can't do it without you…" Suddenly Aslan and the Witch stepped out of the striped tent. The Witch wore a blank expression, but as she walked back to her throne and slaves, her gaze lingered on Edmund and her lips twitched up slightly in the corners. However, Aslan's expression was very sorrowful. "The boy is safe," he announced to the anxious camp. Cheers went up all around, and Lucy and Susan leaped up and hugged Edmund. Peter looked relieved. I smiled, watching the warm display. But then the Witch shouted, "Remember your promise, Aslan!" His mouth curled into a snarl, exposing huge white teeth. He roared, making my eardrums nearly burst. It was one of those sounds you feel inside of you. The Witch sat, and her troop made their way out of camp. I turned back to watch Aslan, but he had already turned and slowly made his way back to his tent, his long golden tail drooping behind him.
The rest of the afternoon was passed without much event. Everyone was in a jovial mood, smiling and cheering and boasting of how Aslan sure put the Witch in her place. But not me. I could tell something had been bothering Aslan. I was up on the hill overlooking the camp when I heard someone call my name. I turned and saw Peter coming up to my boulder. "Rose," he said again, "What are you doing up here? Is something bothering you? Are you worrying that I might beat you again in practice tomorrow?" He joked as he sat next to me. I smiled. This was how it was with Peter. He was always pleasant and friendly to me. Susan and Lucy were the same. We were almost like sisters now. Why couldn't Edmund be so nice? I sighed before answering. "No, that's not it. It's just…Did you notice how Aslan looked after he came out of the tent? Something's not right with him." Peter frowned and thought for a moment. "Well, I did notice he looked a little unhappy. But who knows; we could just be making a mountain out of a molehill," He grinned at me again. I smiled back, pulling on a tendril of my long red hair. He's probably right, of course. Aslan is a mysterious person anyway…