THE LION, THE CAT AND THE TURTLES

Based on Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles
by Kevin Eastman and Peter Laird

and

The Chronicles of Narnia
by C. S. Lewis.

CHAPTER NINE:
Meeting the Enemy

"What do you mean, he left?" Moowin demanded, looking down at Portly.

"I mean he left," said Portly gazing near-sightedly up at her. "For Aslan's How, I think it was. Something about needing to find out... something. Dunno what it was, I didn't actually talk to him, but I heard it from Stoneclaw the Griffin."

They were standing outside Portly's house (well, cave -- true to his nature as a Talking Beast, Portly wasn't much of a builder and preferred living underground in a self-dug cave he proudly called his Sett). Luckily, and unlike Glenstorm, the Badger had been home when Leo and Moorwin came to call on him, and even though they'd declined his offer of a late luncheon, he had been more than happy to take some time to talk to them.

"Sorry to hear that we missed him," said Leonardo. "We were hoping to ask his advice."

"Well, I'm sorry to be the bearer of bad news, then." Portly shrugged apologetically. "But maybe I can help you. Not that I'm anywhere near old Glenstorm's league, of course, but I am a Badger, and I know a thing or two about a thing or two."

Moorwin nodded, trying not to look to disappointed. It wasn't that she didn't like Portly, it was just that... well, even taking his many fine qualities into account, he was still a pretty poor substitute for her Grandfather when it came to advice. But beggars couldn't be choosers, and who knew -- maybe Portly did have something interesting to say.

"You wanted to know about Werewolf rumors?" he said, scratching his ear and sitting down on the ground. "They've been all over the forest. Second biggest talk of the week, if I'm any judge."

"And the biggest talk of the week would be...?" said Leo.

"That'd be you, of course," said Portly. "Werewolves are rare enough, but you're the first Newyorker we've seen here."

"Right," said Leo, looking a little uncomfortable. "Let's concentrate on the Werewolves for now. Did any of these rumors say where they were headed?"

"Of course," Portly replied. "Far as I heard, they were headed to the southwest, to the mountains at the Archenland border."

"But there are no Werewolves in Archenland," said Moorwin. "At least I've never heard of it -- and Archenland is a small country with mostly mountain terrains and open plains. Invisibility spells or no, it would be near-impossible for any number of Werewolves to stay there without anyone knowing about them."

"And beyond Archenland is a desert, right?" said Leo. "I remember that much from the map. And beyond the desert, the kingdom of... Calormen?"

"Neither place being ideal Werewolf territory," said Moorwin. "The desert is unlivable for all but a few, and as for Calormen..." She shook her head. "It's true that Narnia and Calormen haven't been at open war for over a thousand years, but the Calormenese strongly distrust any Narnian creatures."

"Foul sorcerers and demons, they call us," said Portly cheerfully. "No Werewolf would last long in Calormen; he'd have the soldiers of the Tarkaans and maybe even the Tashbaan City Watch after him the moment he set foot in the country. Maybe he'd last longer if he was invisible, but I can't see why he'd go through all that trouble when it's much easier to hide in Narnia anyway."

"In that case," said Leo with a sense of finality, "I think we can safely assume that they're still here in Narnia somewhere. Possibly close to the mountains, if the rumors are true."

"I never heard tell of a Dryad telling anything but the truth," said Portly.

"What about this Red Lady?" said Moorwin. "Has anyone heard anything about her?"

"Not to my knowledge. Still, there might be one or two folks out there I haven't talked to in a while, of course, that might know something."

"Well..." Leo seemed to think about it for a moment or two. "Best to cover all bases. Would you mind terribly going to have a talk with these friends of yours now? It's very important that we find this Red Lady. Business of the King."

"Why, anything for the good King Rilian, of course," Portly exclaimed, raising himself. "I'll get right on it. Care to come along?"

"I would..."Leo began, but then another expression crossed his face, and he looked around, as if scouting for something he couldn't see. "In fact," he said in a completely different voice, "I think it'd be quicker if you went on about it alone. In the meantime Moorwin and I will investigate the southwestern part of the woods. We'll cover more ground that way."

Portly blinked. "Well, if you're quite sure..."

"I am. Thank you for doing this, Portly," said Leo hurriedly. "The King will no doubt appreciate it, as do we."

Moorwin was about to ask him what in the world he meant with this sudden dismissing of Portly's suggestion, but then she recognized the look on his face. It was the same look as the one he'd had several days ago, when he had first sensed the invisible presence of the Werewolves.

"I think this is a very good idea, Portly," she said, hoping that her voice didn't reveal her sudden nervousness. Portly, like all Badgers, could be fiendishly difficult to fool, but if she had interpreted Leo's expression correctly, it would probably be for the better for him if he went off away from them.

"Well," said Portly after a moment's hesitation, "I suppose there's no point in sitting around here if you're in such a hurry." He raised himself. "When should we meet again?"

"Let's say, in three hours?" said Leo, getting to his feet again. "You think you can find your friends in that time?"

"Of course, no problem."

Moorwin looked at Leo as they both walked away from Portly's house, desperate to ask him what it was he had noticed, but he just held a hand up and shook his head. "You can go with Portly if you want," he said in a low voice, almost without moving his mouth. "You don't have to come along for this."

"Yes, I do," she answered. And that was the end of that discussion.

Leo looked around to make sure Portly had gone, and then took a few more steps along the path. "All right," he called out to the air. "I know you're there! Show yourself!"

For a few moments, everything was silent. But then, there was a rustling in the trees in front of them, and the air seemed to shimmer much like it had a few days ago, and slowly the formerly invisible shape was fading into sight. Moorwin didn't need many seconds to determine that the shape belonged to a Werewolf --or to determine that the werewolf was the same one from, the apparent leader of the pack that had been heading for Cair Paravel.

"Most impressive, green creature," said the Werewolf. "This is the second time you have seen through the Red Lady's spells. What is your secret?"

"My secrets are my own," Leo growled, drawing both his swords. "What do you want? How long have you been spying on us?"

"Not long," said the Werewolf. "As for your first question, I am here to make a suggestion."

"If this suggestion is anything like the one you had for King Rilian," said Leo, "forget it. You tell this Red Lady of yours that --"

"That is just the suggestion," said the Werewolf calmly. "You want to meet the Red Lady, do you not? She is very eager to meet you as well. I can take you to her -- both of you."

Leo's eyes narrowed beneath his mask. "And how do we know this isn't a trap? You don't expect us to simply trust your open, honest face, do you?"

"Now that you mention it," said the Werewolf, "not particularly. But I would like to call your attention to the fact that you are surrounded." And with that, more shapes came out from the forest, all around them -- Werewolves, twenty of them, flocking around Moorwin and Leo in a wide circle.

Both Turtle and Centauress immediately tensed, poising their bodies for battle, but instead of attacking the Wolves tightened the circle around them, cutting off any escape routes, as their leader spoke again: "I will ask you once more, politely, to come with me. You may be a great warrior, green creature, but you could not fight against all of us."

Leo paused. "All right," he said, but without sheathing his swords. "You win. I'll come along willingly. But," he added, his voice defiant, "Moorwin stays here. She doesn't have anything to do with this."

Before Moorwin could decide whether to feel insulted or honored that Leo was trying to negotiate with the werewolves on her behalf, the leader closed the negotiations. "The centaur comes with us," he snarled. "Or she dies. Your choice."

"You'd be amazed at how many of you I could manage to kill if you so much as hurt a hair on her head."

"If you did, your life would be forfeit. The Red Lady may want to talk to you, but I still owe you for killing two of my brethren, creature."

"Hold it!" said Moorwin. "Leonardo, I will come with you. I knew when I agreed to be your companion that there would be risks, and I'm not about to leave you behind in the face of danger."

"Such loyalty," said the werewolf dryly. "How very touching. Now -- no more talking. We'll go to see the Red Lady, and if you both do exactly as you're told, you might get to live."

But if the Werewolves hadn't been so completely focused on Leonardo, they might have noticed a black, white and gray shape hiding underneath a nearby bush and following the conversation with great interest.

As Portly would often point out, and not without a certain pride, while Badgers may not be the biggest, strongest, swiftest -- or even smartest -- of all the woodland creatures, they were among the most steadfast and hardest to deceive. And this Badger had at once picked up that something was off about Leo and Moorwin's sudden insistence on splitting up. Given that he had personally experienced Leo's ability to see and hear what other people couldn't, Portly had surmised that there was someone else nearby that weren't supposed to be there and didn't want to be seen.

It wasn't that Portly thought that the Turtle and Centauress couldn't take care of themselves, but the situation had worried him enough that he decided to keep an eye on them for a little while. Since all Badgers' dens had many entrances and Portly's Sett was no exception to this rule, it had been an easy matter to pretend to go off in search of his friends, but instead double back and enter the Sett through one of the side-entrances and following the sound of Leo's and Moorwin's footsteps from underground (Badgers have excellent hearing and the footsteps of a Centaur are easily identified) through his many tunnels.

As luck would have it, they hadn't gone off too far before the invisible foes apparently revealed themselves, and voices were heard from above ground. As even further luck would have it, another of Portly's entrances was located pretty close to where they had stopped, and the badger had managed to sneak out and hide underneath that bush just in time to see the hags and the werewolves surround his two friends.

Of course, there wasn't much one Badger could do against twenty Werewolves, but Portly could follow the conversation and make a few choice decisions based on the information it gave him.

They hadn't walked very far before they reached a larger clearing in the forest -- Moorwin at once recognized it as one of the many clearings where the Fauns used to dance with the Dryads on moonlit nights. She'd often come here in the past to watch them and enjoy the music and merriment, because it was impossible to stay in a bad mood around a group of Fauns.

At the moment, however, there were no Fauns or Dryads to be seen, and precious little music and merriment.

Instead, in a half-circle in the middle of the clearing stood ten old women, all of whom could have passed for human if they hadn't looked so extremely ugly and shrivelled -- and in the center of this circle, in a stark contrast to their ugliness stood what was probably the most beautiful woman Moorwin had ever seen -- tall, dark-haired and clad in a magnificent form-hugging dress. To complete the image, a large ruby hung from a golden necklace, shining brilliantly as it rested on the woman's breast.

As the Werewolves drove Leonardo and Moorwin closer, the woman's beautiful face broke into a sweet smile.

"Ooooh, hello," she cooed, in a voice that sounded both melodious and lovely -- and more than a little childish. "How nice to see that you could make it!"

"Your friends didn't exactly give us a lot of choice," said Leo, looking at her and not seeming very impressed with her beauty. "You're the Red Lady, I presume."

"Who else could I be? Who else could possibly be so beautiful?" said the woman, winking coquettishly and twirling around in a circle, as if wanting them to get a good look at her. "Oh, and these are my loyal and charming Hags. Try not to look too hard at them, you might go blind from their ugliness." (One of the Hags shot the Red Lady a murderous glance, but the Lady didn't even seem to notice.) "And of course, you know the Werewolves. There, I've introduced everyone. Please don't think me rude if I don't offer you anything to drink. No-one has wanted to drink with a Witch for more than a thousand years, so I don't bother to ask anymore."

"I'm honored," said Leo dryly.

"You should be. This is the first time in centuries I have chosen to talk so openly to any of the King's subjects. But you intrigue me, green creature, I'll honestly admit that." The Red Lady lent forward to look more closely at him. "Who are you? I've never seen such a creature as you before."

"My name is Leonardo. Anything else is unimportant."

"Oh, is that all you have to say?" The Red Lady pouted cutely, and childishly. "How very mean of you. And what a dreadful name. Leonardo. Whoever gave you such a dreary and ugly-sounding name? I trust they were justly punished?"

Leo frowned. "You are, of course, free to judge my name in any way you see fit. But I'm not telling you anything else."

"Oh, I rather think you'll be telling me quite a few things more," said the Red Lady. "Werewolves, kill the Centaur."

In one swift move, Leo had drawn his swords again and stepped up in front of Moorwin. "I welcome you," he said with a slight growl in his voice, "to try. She is my companion, and anyone who so much as comes near her loses their head."

"And I will fight with hooves and hands as long as I draw breath," said Moorwin, glaring at the Werewolves who were trying to sneak up from behind. "I swear by the Lion's mane that the first one to come close enough, dies!"

Leo smiled at her and moved slightly to the side, as if he'd decided to give her more room to kick if she should need it. "So, how many Werewolves can you afford to lose, Lady?" he said. "I'm betting those hooves could crush a few of them before they managed to overpower her. That is, the ones who don't feel the sting of my katana first!"

The Werewolves hesitated.

"Oh, this isn't fair," said the Red Lady, her melodious voice turning into a whine. "Why can't you just play along? Why do you have to make everything so difficult? All right, Werewolves, don't kill the Centaur. See if I care."

Moorwin stared. If this Lady was really a Witch, and the same kind as the White Witch of old and the Lady in Green from the King's stories, she certainly didn't act like any of them.

"I was hoping to at least get some fun out of you first," said the Red Lady with a sigh. "But since you're going to be difficult, I'll just skip directly to the plan. But I must say you disappoint me, Leonardo. Allowing a lady to fend for herself in battle? Have you no proper views on women fighting?"

"Of course I do," said Leo. "I expect them to be good at it."

All of a sudden, a few things about Leonardo made somewhat more sense to Moorwin. Unfortunately, she didn't have time to ponder this further, because now the Red Lady turned her eyes on her... and smiled, widely and wickedly, as she grabbed and clutched the ruby on her necklace.

This doesn't look good... was all Moorwin had the time to think before the unmistakable feel of magic filled the air around her and washed away all her thoughts.

When Moorwin turned to face Leonardo again, it was with an oddly blank look on her face. Without a word, she raised herself up on two legs, her front legs kicking wildly out at him.

Completely unprepared for this, Leo had just time to twist aside enough to avoid the main brunt of the powerful kick, but the grazing of the hoof against his cheek was easily as hard as a full-fledged punch to the face from anyone else. His cheek exploded in pain, and he twirled around, landing on his back in the grass.

His vision cleared just in time to see Moorwin rise to her hind legs again and coming down upon him in an even more powerful stomp.

If he had been just a tiny bit slower, his head would most likely have been crushed -- but Leo had fought for his life more than once. He rolled out of the way just as her hooves came crashing down, being back on his feet again long before she could raise up again for another stomp.

I think I lost a tooth, he thought fleetingly before having to jump out of the way of another powerful kick from the centauress's hind legs.

"Moorwin! Quit that! What are you doing?" he yelled.

"Merely what I am ordering her to," said the Red Lady with a voice filled with glee, as she clutched her ruby, and Moorwin launched out with another kick. "Hypnosis, my dear Leonardo. One of the oldest forms of magic. Though I see you remain sadly unaffected. I had expected it, since you can see through my spells, but still... it would have been so much fun to have you two kill each other."

Leo jumped out of the way again, drawing his swords. "Moorwin! Snap out of it!"

There were some chuckles from some of the Werewolves, who were still, along with the Hags, gathered around them in a circle and would make it very hard for Leo to get too far out of the way of Moorwin. Leo's mind worked at full speed as he once again dodged the Centauress's kick: She's stronger than me, and faster, and since she's hypnotized, she's not afraid of getting hurt herself. I'm more agile than her, but I can't dodge her forever, and I don't want to hurt her... only one thing left to do then!

Leo jumped out of the way of another of Moorwin's charges, and at top speed, he charged at the Red Lady with drawn swords.

Just as he'd expected, she instinctively took a step back from him as his swords slashed in the air in front of her, cutting over the thin golden necklace that her ruby hung on, and with a quick flick of the sword, the red gem was sent flying.

The Hag and the Werewolf on each side of the Red Lady were already halfway on the move to grab Leo, but he darted out of the way just in time to avoid them, coming to a halt just next to Moorwin.

Just as he had expected, the Centauress had stopped trying to attack him, and was now simply standing there with limp arms, staring blankly at the world.

The reasoning had been simple: He couldn't hurt Moorwin, so the simplest way of dealing with the situation was to remove the influence over her -- and any fool could have seen that the influence was in the red gem.

"No!" the Red Lady shrieked. "Stay away from the ruby! None may touch my ruby!"

For a millisecond, Leo thought she was talking to him, but then he saw that one of the Hags was running over to the ruby that was now lying in the grass a few feet away and reaching out to grab it.

Whether the Hag had wanted the ruby for herself or was just seeking to bring it to the Red Lady, Leo never found out, because the moment her hand touched the stone, she burst into flame. With a horrible scream, she rose up and stumbled to her knees as the fire engulfed her completely.

Leo spent five precious seconds gawking at this unexpected sight, but then managed to come back to himself and turned to Moorwin instead, hissing: "Snap out of it! We've gotta get out of here now before anyone gets their act together!"

Moorwin blinked, the blankness vanishing from her face. "What --" she began in an uncertain voice.

"No time!" Leo hissed, hoping that the screams of the burning hag would drown out his voice to everyone but her. "Just come on!" He didn't like running out on a foe like this, but something told him that directly attacking someone who could take over your mind with a mere gesture would be a bad idea.

And then, out of the blue, three Werewolves, all in their wolf shapes, sprang at him at once. One of them immediately fell back after the blow Leo had time to deal out with his sword, but the two others were on him and toppled him to the ground. For a horrible moment, everything was a blur of fur and claws and teeth, but all of a sudden both Wolves flew off him, having been on the receiving end of two powerful kicks from Moorwin.

"Get up!" she yelled, looking fully alert and aware again as she rose up on two legs to trample a fourth Werewolf ready for the attack.

Leo rolled to his feet and had just about enough time to slash at a fifth Werewolf who was coming at him, jumping over a sixth and sending it colliding with a seventh. Almost all the Werewolves were in a battle frenzy by now; Leo recognized the wild and manic gleam in their eyes and knew that they were consumed by their own bloodlust at this point, completely unable to stop themselves even if they had wanted to. They all charged at Leo and Moorwin all at once, ignoring the barked orders of their leader, the cries of the Red Lady and the shrieks of the still-burning hag.

Fangs and claws were tearing at them, and though Leo braced himself and slashed at them all with his swords, he was soon overpowered and forced to the ground again, only vaguely aware that the same was happening to Moorwin beside him.

But then, a cacophony of new voices, roars and yells and shrieks, mixed in with everything else, and the weight of the werewolves was suddenly lifted off him as, of all things, a bear stood over him, roaring loudly and swatting away four werewolves at once, as if they were flies.

Quickly getting to his feet, Leo saw that the entire clearing was now swarming with animals and woodland creatures: Bears and Centaurs and Boars and Foxes and Fauns and Centaurs and Dwarfs and Hedgehogs and Apes and Cheetahs and Unicorns and Squirrels and even a large Griffin, all attacking the Werewolves and Hags with loud battle cries.

And in the middle of it all, Portly, standing on two legs and shaking his front paws in the air as he shouted: "For the King and the Lion!"

From there, the battle quickly turned tides, as there seemed to be no end to the woodland creatures. Unicorns and Boars charged at the hangs with lowered horns and tusks, Dwarfs and Fauns went at werewolves with swords and axes, Bears rose on two legs and felled enemies left and right with slow, but immensely powerful blows with their front paws.

The attack was so sudden, and so unexpectedly forceful that only minutes later, the Red Lady's crew had vanished completely -- though whether it was by magic or simply by running, Leo never found out -- leaving behind only a couple of dead Werewolves and a badly-burned Hag.

A huge cheer rose up between the creatures, a couple of Squirrels running around and chattering excitedly: "We won, we won, we won! Is anyone hurt? The Green Creature is bleeding, look!"

Leo was about to say that he was okay, but before he could even open his mouth, he found himself crowded by friendly, if somewhat overwhelming creatures: "Support him -- No, let him lie down! -- Are you hurt? -- Those Werewolves are brutes! -- anyone here know how to properly tend to a wound? -- Don't look at me, I don't even have any hands!"

"If you would just give me some space!" Leo said, managing to sit up despite at least three creatures trying to get him to lie down. "Thank you, but I'm fine...!"

And he discovered, to his relief, that he was. He'd had a few bites and scratches, and a couple of wounds were bleeding, but they were minor -- it seemed the Werewolves hadn't had the time to dish out any more lasting damage before they were driven away. He ran his tongue over his teeth to check if he still had all of them intact, and was relieved to find that he'd been wrong when he'd thought earlier that he'd lost a tooth -- they were all still there, even though (and the relief dampened a little upon this discovery) one of his side teeth seemed to have gotten rather badly chipped when Moorwin had kicked him. Great. And it's not as if a Turtle can afford dental surgery...

"Moorwin," he remembered, forgetting his tooth for now and turning to her. "Are you okay?"

"As well as can be expected, thank you," she grumbled, straightening herself. She was, like Leo, bleeding from a few wounds, but luckily seemed no worse for the wear. "I don't remember much from after that Red Lady enchanted me, but... Other than that, I'm fine. A few scratches and bites, nothing serious."

"Scratches and..." Something in Leo's mind clicked as his feeble knowledge on werewolves (mostly acquired through watching of horror movies with his brothers when he was a little younger) kicked in. "They bit you? They bit us?"

Moorwin nodded, wincing a little. "A Wolf's primary weapon is his teeth, after all..."

"The wounds will heal," said an older-looking Centaur, looking at their wounds with an expert gaze. "They are little more than scratches. You were indeed fortunate, Moorwin. Aslan himself must have watched over you for you to escape in such a good condition... even if you were more than a little foolish going to meet this Red Lady alone."

"Yes, Uncle," said Moorwin, looking sheepish.

But I thought that if a werewolf bit you, you became a werewolf yourself, Leo thought feebly, but watching the expressions of all the others there, he felt less certain. These Narnians would know more about werewolves than he did, and if the tales of lycantropy had been true, they wouldn't have looked so relieved that Leo and Moorwin had escaped with a few bites.

Just to make sure, though, he asked the older Centaur (who seemed to know about such things): "You don't happen to know if werewolf bites are, uh, poisonous or anything like that, do you?"

"Poisonous?" This comment drew up a bit of laughter from several of the Narnians.

"I think you've got Werewolves confused with snakes!" one of the Fauns called out.

"I told you he was a good chap," said Portly from the edge of the crowd, chuckling. "I say, you've got to respect a person who can still make jokes after having nearly been mauled by Werewolves."

All right, the tales of lycantropy are definitely not true, Leo decided, turning to the Badger. "You've got to respect a person who can drum together a small army on such short notice as well," he said. "I'm guessing it was you who got all these guys here?"

"Of course it was!" Portly replied smugly. "I saw the Werewolves taking the two of you off, so I ran to get a few friends. Got here just in time too, by the looks of it -- that lady, she must've been this Red Lady that you told me about, I take it?"

"Sure seems that way," said Leo, getting to his feet. His wounds stung as he did so, but all in all, he'd had worse battle wounds. "Anyone see where she went? Or the others?"

The reply came in the form of shakings of heads, mutterings of "no," "sorry," and "'fraid I wasn't looking."

Leo thought about sighing, but decided against it. Instead, he just looked around at the Narnians and said. "All right. They can't be far away, and it seems like we've got strength in numbers. I suggest we go find them now, before they can plan a counterattack."

Moorwin looked up from the scratch she had been nursing. "I would suggest caution. You saw how easily the Red Lady enchanted me. I think she could do it to any of us if she wanted."

"There is that," Leo admitted, "but I don't think she could do it to all of us at once." And for some reason, her hocus-pocus doesn't seem to work on me, he added silently. "Better to act now than lose the opportunity."

Moorwin nodded with a steely resolve in her eyes. "For Aslan and the King, then!" she said, raising her voice. "Who is with us? Who will join us in ridding Narnia of the Witch?"

Leo was certain that the resulting cheer from the Narnians could be heard for miles around.

TO BE CONTINUED...

Author's notes: Yeah, it's getting slightly(!) longer between updates now, but this is where the heavier revising and re-writing is taking place, so naturally it'll take more time... not to mention that I've got other things to do besides writing fanfic.

On a note that one reviewer brought up, and that was touched upon in this chapter: There is nothing to suggest that Narnian Werewolves are lycantropy carriers -- in fact, looking at the one identified Narnian Werewolf (the one with the memorable "I am hunger, I am thirst" speech from Prince Caspian), it's pretty clear that they aren't, since Caspian was bitten and didn't turn into a Werewolf himself. Neither is their change from man to wolf triggered by the full moon -- and as stated earlier, they can be killed by other means than silver -- so most of the traditional werewolf lore wouldn't fit with them anyway. I don't blame Leo for being on his guard there, though... he didn't know.