Chapter Seventeen: Tactical Offensive

Peter looked around the room at everyone who was assembled. His siblings, Corin, Aislynn, and Caspian were all present, as were Glenstorm, Asterius, Nikabrik, Trumpkin, Reepicheep, Pattertwig, and Trufflehunter. He looked up at the carving of Aslan on the wall, again feeling as if those carved eyes were alive and staring down at him. He could only hope that Aslan arrived soon. He had confidence in what they were about to do, but having Aslan here, just like the last time when they'd defeated the Witch, would have been very inspiring and comforting.

He glanced back down at the assembled group and looked at all of them, judging their willingness to begin taking action against the Telmarines. It was time to stop hiding, and time to begin mounting an offensive. It was always better to be on the offensive, because being defensive made it too easy to get yourself backed into a corner and over-run. That was one of the first things that Oreius had taught them, and it was a lesson that Peter had always kept in mind when he and Edmund had worked with the Centaur to plan the campaigns that had kept Narnia safe for fifteen years.

"Now that Prince Corin has joined us and we have definite word on the support that Archenland can provide to us, we need to begin planning how we are going to take the fight to the Telmarines," Peter said to open the meeting.

"We know that they are coming," Caspian protested. "Why don't we wait them out? If we dig in, we'll be able to outlast them."

Peter, Edmund, and Corin all shook their heads simultaneously. "Trying to wait out a siege will only lead to our defeat," Edmund explained. "They'll be able to cut off our supply lines, and just starve us out."

"It's always better to be the attacker than the defender," Corin added. "It's too easy to get yourself backed into a corner when you're defending."

Peter and Edmund shot him surprised looks, since he had almost quoted Oreius word for word, but now wasn't the time or the place to think about it. Peter looked back at Caspian. "We've got several advantages that the Telmarines don't," he explained. "Edmund and I know Narnia very well, and we'll have no problem picking the best battlefield to meet the Telmarines. We also have a wide variety of fighters, and we know how to deploy them to best use their strengths. Those are things that your uncle won't be expecting. If we hit them hard and fast, we can probably drive right up to Cair Paravel and place them under siege before they have a chance to retaliate."

"My brother is also on his way, and he's bringing as many of our men as we can spare," Corin inserted. "If we start attacking now, we could catch them by surprise, and my brother can probably catch up with us right about the time we reach Cair Paravel, so our reinforcements will be ready right when we need them."

They debated that issue for several moments, trying to work out the best way to execute such a plan. Ultimately, they set it aside, deciding that it presented too many challenges to pull off successfully. From the How to Cair Paravel, there were simply too many places where the Telmarines could pull back to and then slip around behind the Narnians and catch them in a pincer movement. The Narnian force was still too small to be that aggressive. If they could somehow decimate the Telmarines first and get them on the run, they might have a chance of pulling it off, but they were still too badly outnumbered.

Peter looked at the maps that were spread out in front of them in frustration. There had to be a feasible way in which their smaller force could take the fight to the Telmarines, without having to wait for Cor. He wasn't opposed to waiting for the Archenland army, but at the same time, he didn't want them trapped in a corner and defeated before Cor could arrive.

If only they knew more about the Telmarine leadership. Larez had already proven that he wouldn't talk, so there was no way to get information out of him without stooping to the level of torture, which Peter was adamant about not doing. Using torture wouldn't convince the Telmarines that the Narnians only wanted peace and wanted their land and their homes back. He glared at the representation of Cair Paravel. The castle had been his home for fifteen years…yet it was too defensible. If the Narnians marched up there and tried to put it under siege, they would lose.

An overt attack was out…but maybe…

"Caspian, you're the rightful heir to the Telmarine throne, correct?"

Caspian looked surprised at the question, but nodded. "Yes. My uncle has been acting as regent until I was of age to take the throne, but before I could, his son was born."

Peter's eyes met his. "Would the Telmarines support you, if we could prove that your uncle tried to kill you?"

Caspian considered the question for a moment, as the others watched Peter and Caspian, listening intently to the conversation. Caspian chewed on his lower lip for a moment before he nodded, slowly. "I believe so, King Peter. It would take a great deal of convincing, and either solid proof or his confession in front of the Council of Lords, but I believe they would."

"Would your uncle be likely to be at Cair Paravel?" Peter asked the next question.

Caspian nodded. "He wouldn't come out to the battlefield until the army feels they have us in a position where we can't win."

Peter's eyes narrowed in satisfaction. Now they were getting somewhere! He looked back at the map and studied the layout of the area around Cair Paravel. A workable plan was forming itself in his mind.

Edmund and the others were all watching Peter intently, but when he chose not to elaborate on whatever he was obviously planning, Edmund took matters into his own hands. "Peter, what are you thinking?"

"We know Miraz is the one who is driving this attack on the Narnians," Peter replied absently. "If we need evidence to convince the Council that Caspian isn't a traitor, we probably won't get it. It would come down to Caspian's word against his uncle's."

Edmund nodded, understanding the points that his brother had raised. He was the Just one, and the judge in the family, but Peter had sat in on enough judgments over the years that he understood the law as well as Edmund did. "Go on, Peter," Edmund encouraged him.

"We need to get Miraz to confess to arranging an attempted murder of Caspian, in public," Peter explained. "If Miraz is going to be at Cair Paravel, we can send a small force in to capture him and retake the castle with minimum loss of life. Our best chance is to strike them before they strike us!"

The Narnians present murmured uncertainly at this plan, and Corin, Aislynn, and Caspian looked at Peter as if he had completely lost his mind. Caspian was the first one to speak. "It's impossible! No one has ever taken that castle!"

"Your people did," Corin shot back, immediately.

"We had the tactical advantage!" Caspian said, his temper flaring at being challenged by the older prince. "The Narnians don't!"

Trumpkin glanced between the two quarreling princes. "King Peter's plan will give us the element of surprise."

Glenstorm stamped a hoof on the stone floor, drawing their attention. "King Peter obviously has a plan. I would hear it before we debate whether or not it is possible."

Corin and Caspian fell silent as they turned their attention back to Peter, although Caspian shot a quick glare at the Archenland prince. Peter waited until he had everyone's attention, before he spoke again. "We know from what Reepicheep and his scouts have reported that Miraz's men and war machines are on their way. One of their scouts spotted the How this morning, and was gone before we were in a position to stop him. It is only a matter of time before the Telmarines arrive."

Everyone nodded in agreement, and Peter continued. "Caspian has explained that his uncle doesn't have the authority to call together the entire army, although the troops at the castle are still more than enough to pose a considerable threat to us. But if they are on their way, that means that they aren't protecting Cair Paravel."

More nods.

Peter straightened and looked between his siblings. "Cair Paravel was our home for fifteen years. We know its passageways and entries as no one else does. We can get in, capture Miraz, and get back out quickly and undetected." He could see the same passion and agreement in the eyes of his brother and sisters as he felt. "If we plan this correctly, we can probably take the entire castle at once, and end this with minimum losses. If we can secure Miraz, we can get him to confess, which will put Caspian back in line for the throne and end the war once and for all."

The Narnians looked thoughtful, although Caspian still looked doubtful. "I have lived in that palace my whole life, and I don't think even I could get in undetected," he protested again. "If we dig in and wait, we'll have a chance to get them on the run when they attack, especially if the Archenland reinforcements arrive in time."

"We can't count on that, though," Edmund replied, shooting an apologetic look at Corin. "I know that you cleared the way for them, Corin, but given the size of the force your brother is bringing, there's no way to guarantee that they'll make it in time."

Corin waved off the explanation. "It is true. My brother will move as quickly as possible, but he will have many more men than I did, and they will not be as swift as we were." He looked thoughtful. "How do you plan to get a strike force in?"

"Gryphons," Peter replied instantly. "There are passages everywhere leading into the castle, including from the beach, but I expect that after twenty-five years, the Telmarines will be aware of them and have them guarded. The one thing we don't want is to get bogged down and risk an alarm being sounded."

"How will the gryphons help?" Lucy asked, looking curious.

"The one direction that the Telmarines won't be expecting us from is above," Peter explained. "We'll send in an advance scout, who will signal the rest of the strike force where to come in, based on what he finds. The gryphons will drop the rest of us off, and we'll get the gates open."

He turned to Corin and Glenstorm. "That's where the two of you come in. Once the gates are open, you'll bring the Narnians in to secure the main force of guards that will still be at the castle, while we secure Miraz and the Council."

Glenstorm nodded thoughtfully. "It might work, Your Majesty. It will take careful coordination, and complete willingness from everyone involved, but it has a strong chance of succeeding."

"I for one, feel safer underground," Trufflehunter inserted, showing his support of Caspian. "Our supplies are high, and we have the advantage here."

Caspian nodded. "I agree. This is the best place to make a stand. There's no way that my uncle's men can come up to us without us knowing about it, not with the size of the force he'll need to take us. Our archers will have the high ground and can hit from a distance, and there are plenty of passages out through the caves if things turn against us."

Peter took a deep breath to keep from snapping at the Telmarine. "Look, I appreciate what you've done here," he said, keeping his tone even. "But this isn't a fortress. It's a tomb."

"We know that the Telmarines have war machines," Aislynn spoke for the first time. "They have an even longer range than our archers. All they would have to do is lob rocks at us, and they could probably collapse the How and the caves beneath if they work at it long enough. If they're smart, they'll search the surrounding woods for hidden exits, and barricade those so we can't get supplies in, and starve us out."

"We could gather nuts!" Pattertwig the Squirrel added helpfully.

"Yes! And throw them at the Telmarines!" Reepicheep exclaimed before giving the Squirrel his best don't be stupid look. "Shut up." He looked back at Peter. "I think you know where I stand, sire."

Peter looked to Corin, Glenstorm, and Asterius. "Will you be able to handle the guards once we get your troops in?"

All three exchanged long looks, before Glenstorm met Peter's eyes. "Or die trying, my liege."

"That's what I'm worried about."

Everyone looked at Lucy, who was sitting quietly on top of the Stone Table, looking around as she listened to the debate.

"Sorry?" Peter asked, not understanding what she meant. Surely Lucy knew that he would never put them in a position where he would throw away the lives of their allies and subjects on a whim. He knew that she had to understand that they simply couldn't wait to be overrun either.

"You're all acting like there's only two options. Dying here, or dying there."

Peter frowned. "Do you have another plan, Lu?" he asked, not willing to discount her suggestions. While Lucy tended not to fight in battle, she had learned tactics and command at Oreius' side, just like her brothers, and sometimes she saw flaws in their plans that they missed. She had a different way of looking at things, and Peter never ignored her input, because she gave it so rarely, trusting that her brothers and Oreius knew what they were doing.

"You've forgotten one thing in your calculations, Peter. Aslan won't let us stand alone. He may very well have another plan in mind, just as he did at Beruna when we fought the Witch. I think we need to consult him." She raised her hand to stop Peter before he could speak. "You told me that you trusted Aslan and his plan, Peter," she reminded him gently. "His sudden arrival with reinforcements is what turned Beruna in our favor. How do we know he doesn't have some other plan?"

Peter thought about her statement. He did trust Aslan, it was true. The great Lion was always with them, and Peter didn't believe that he would abandoned his people now. But at the same time, they were running out of time. "I do trust him, Lu, and I trust you and your faith in him. We're not going into this as if it was a pitched battle. We're trying to avoid loss of life wherever possible."

He stepped closer to her and took her smaller hand, rubbing it gently. "Lu, I would love to be able to wait for Aslan, but we've had no sign that he is coming, and the Telmarines will be here before long. This is our best chance to strike them while they're not expecting it. They're expecting us to be holed up here, waiting for the end, not mounting an offensive."

Lucy stared into his eyes, her own dark ones worried and pensive. After a long moment, she nodded. "All right, Peter, but remember what Oreius taught us about plans. Make sure you have a contingency plan if something goes wrong."

Peter nodded. "We will, Lucy. I promise." Looking around the room, he waited for anyone else who wanted to address the issue. When no one spoke, but he saw assent in the vast majority of their eyes, he nodded firmly. "All right, let's plan this out. Between the four of us," he indicated his siblings, "and Caspian, we should be able to come up with a detailed plan of the Cair. Caspian will know if anything has changed in the last twenty-five years, and he can tell us where we are most likely to find our targets. We'll need everyone's help on this."

He dug some clean parchment out of the pile of papers in front of them and together they bent over the makeshift table they'd erected out of pieces of stone and wood. It was time to begin planning in earnest.

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The next evening…

Corin shifted his weight from one foot to the other, hearing similar stirrings from the Narnians and the scouts who were standing nearby, waiting for the signal. This could be the make or break tactical strike that could bring victory to the Narnians, but Corin had a feeling, despite the detailed plan that had been laid out, that something was going to go terribly wrong.

He wasn't sure why he was so uneasy. After all, Kings Peter and Edmund had come up with the plan, and their tactical planning was legendary. Even more so, they would both be working in a way that would play to their strengths, they had the advantage of knowing every inch of the area that they were attacking, and they had the element of surprise. Despite all of these advantages, Corin was uneasy.

If this was a plan conceived by his brother, he knew that Cor would have trusted his twin's intuition and called off the plan, or reworked it until Corin was not uneasy…but this wasn't Archenland, and it wasn't Cor making the plans. All he could do was follow his part of the plan and hope for the best, while trying to set aside his dismal feelings.

A soft call from overhead caused him to look up as one of the gryphons swept by overhead, a darker, man-shaped shadow clutched in his talons. It was King Edmund, who had been chosen to be the advance scout for this attack, mostly because of a small advantage that he had been carrying with them that had caught them all by surprise.

Peter sat back and rubbed his aching neck. "That takes care of the castle layout and the plan to open the gates," he said, looking at the papers scattered in front of them. "Now we just need to figure out a signal system that the scout we send in can use that won't alert the Telmarines."

"A torch, perhaps?" Corin suggested. "Don't the guards have torches or fires to keep warm during the late watches?"

Peter considered it for a moment before shaking his head. "It's a good plan, but too unwieldy," he explained. "The scout would have to be focused on the fire as much as on the surroundings. We need something that he can use in an instant to warn us of any sudden changes in the Telmarine movements."

Edmund looked thoughtful. "I have an idea, Peter. Hang on." He hurried out of the Stone Table chamber, to the baffled looks of everyone else, but was back a few minutes later with a leather messenger pouch. He opened it and rooted around inside, pulling out a long, slender cylinder. "Will this work?"

Peter raised his eyebrow. "You could have mentioned that a bit sooner!"

Edmund laughed, as did the two Queens, although everyone else looked baffled and confused. He explained quickly. "This is a portable torch. It doesn't require fire, and it's easy to use." He pressed something on the cylinder, and a bright light shone from one end. "If we agree on a set code before we strike, I can position myself on one of the towers and signal the advance."

"Why you?" Peter asked.

"One, I know how to work the torch. Two, I know Cair Paravel as well as you do, and I know what areas are most likely to give us problems. Three, I'm smaller than you, Caspian, or Corin, and it'll be easier for the gryphons to get me in unobserved."

"You're also one of the best fighters we have, Edmund," Susan reminded him.

"Yes, but if Peter's plan works, there will be minimal fighting, and Corin and Caspian can easily make up for my not being there," Edmund countered.

Corin watched as the gryphon angled his wings and shot up into the sky, carrying Edmund along with him. The gryphon's dark brown, almost black, feathers blended into the night sky making the two of them nearly invisible. He glanced along the line again, looking at the Narnians who were waiting impatiently for their part.

"Aslan protect them…protect all of us," he whispered softly, seeing Glenstorm turn to look at him as the Centaur's keen ears picked up the quiet words, but not commenting.

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From this height, the sound of sea was a low, almost indistinguishable whisper over the sound of the wind rushing past Roron's wings. The gryphon had been all too willing to volunteer to carry his King into position. All of the gryphons had been eager to do something so important, so there had been no shortage of volunteers to get the strike force – consisting of Peter, Susan, Edmund, Caspian, and Trumpkin – into position.

Edmund peered through the night sky as they approached Cair Paravel from above. His heart clenched at the sight of the magnificent palace, remembering the days of riding out from the palace to settle disputes or visit their subjects, returning home to see the banners waving and hearing the trumpets echoing through the clear air.

Although nothing had changed on the outside of the castle, it seemed dark and ominous, not the bright, shining bastion and symbol of Narnia's freedom that it had been when Edmund and his siblings had lived here. Edmund's eyes swept the various towers, spotting the guards that were posted as lookouts. Reaching up, he touched Roron's chest to get the gryphon's attention. When Roron looked down at his passenger, Edmund indicated the tallest watchtower as their destination.

Roron nodded and angled his flight so that it would carry them up and over the top of the tower. Edmund could see the guard that was posted on the tower's watch platform. The guard had his back to them, and Roron came in towards the roof that sheltered the stairs leading into the tower. He dropped Edmund on the small roof, before landing as well, folding his wings to keep them from showing as the guard, hearing the sound of the gryphon's wings, turned around quickly.

Edmund held his breath as he crawled across the sloping roof, following Roron, whose job now was to take out this first guard swiftly and silently so that sounds of a fight would not alert the other guards. The gryphon edged across the roof, keeping back out of sight until the man turned back to his watch. Then, the gryphon struck, leaning over the roof and seizing the man by the shoulders with his foreclaws and yanking him back up on the roof, where Edmund knocked him out with a quick blow to the head.

He nodded to Roran before dropping lightly off the roof, landing in a crouch to absorb the impact of his feet on the stone. Rising slowly to his feet, he slipped to the parapet and peered over the edge, scoping out the placement of the guards who were stationed on the other towers.

No one seemed to have noticed his arrival, so he stepped over to the edge facing the forest and began clicking the torch in his hands on and off in the agreed-upon signal. The signal would tell the other gryphons that it was safe to bring in the strike team, and it would let Corin and the Narnians know that they could begin approaching the castle quietly.

He continued clicking the torch in the signal as four more gryphons swept by overhead, heading for what had been known as the Queens' Tower – where Lucy and Susan had had their chambers.

Now the plan was going to begin in earnest.

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If someone had told Caspian a week ago that he would be on the run from his murderous, usurping uncle, he would have exhibited very little surprise. As he had told King Peter and the other Narnian monarchs, he had always known that his uncle wanted his throne. The fact that Miraz had finally made a play for it didn't surprise him in the least.

However, if someone had told him that he would be working alongside the Narnians – long believed to be extinct – he would have laughed. The very idea would have been ridiculous in the extreme, even with everything that his Professor had told him about the Narnians and their Kings and Queens.

And if that same someone had told him that he would be making a midnight raid against the castle, being carried by a gryphon through the night sky, and working with the aforementioned Kings and Queens and the Archenland Crown Prince, he would have told that person that he was mad and considered calling the guards to have him locked up in the palace cells for his own safety. All the legends that he had heard about the Kings and Queens had seemed to him to be too extraordinary for any one to accomplish. He had always assumed that the Kings and Queens were regular, ordinary rulers, and that the legends about them compared them to an ideal, or were exaggerations to make them seem more powerful than they really were, as an intimidation tactic.

Yet, here he was. He was gently held in the talons of a gryphon who was winging his way through the star-spangled night sky, with the Narnian High King, the Archenland Crown Prince, and one of the Narnian Queens just behind him, while the other Narnian King waited at the top of one of the towers, signaling them in.

His gryphon – a grey-feathered female named Shadow – banked to avoid the tower where King Edmund was signaling from. As they leveled out, Caspian spotted a guard on the next tower, armed with a crossbow – taking aim at the younger King. Caspian tapped Shadow's foot to get her attention, indicating the guard when the gryphon glanced down.

Shadow nodded and suddenly released her grip on Caspian's waist and one arm, leaving Caspian dangling from one arm as she tightened her grip. His heart in his throat as he put his life in Shadow's talons, Caspian awkwardly managed to draw his sword from its sheath. He tightened his grip on his sword as Shadow folded her wings and dove.

The wind whistled past Caspian's face, making him blink back tears as the cold air made his eyes water. The gryphon was on top of the guard before he could react and all he had time to do was look up, shock and horror crossing his face. Caspian swung, the naked steel of his sword cutting across the man's chest and slicing through his armor as if it wasn't there.

As the guard tumbled over the parapet towards the rocky shoreline below, Shadow reached down and caught hold of Caspian's right arm, getting a better grip on him. Tucking her hindquarters under her, she managed to get her claws around his waist and pull him back up into the position that he had been before. He felt much more secure this way, and breathed a small sigh of relief.

Shadow heard the sigh, soft as it was, and glanced down at him. "You need not fear, my Prince," she murmured softly. "I shall not let you fall."

Caspian only nodded wordlessly, not trusting his voice at the moment. This was still all too foreign to him. He glanced over as a dark shape drew alongside of him. It was King Peter, who sent him a grateful look for taking care of the guard, before gesturing towards their destination, a long walkway just below one of the taller towers, which connected one tower with another. Caspian nodded and held his breath as Shadow dove again. Gentle as she was being, he knew he would never get used to this form of transportation. He much preferred a horse – or his own two feet!

As they drew closer to the towers, Shadow extended her wings and began slowing her descent and her speed in order to give him a gentle landing. The walkway was just ahead, and Caspian could see several guards stationed along it.

Just as he noticed the guards, one suddenly collapsed, an arrow in his back. A whistling noise cut the air and a second guard fell, the arrow lodged in his chest. As the other guards realized that they were under attack, Shadow released Caspian's waist again, lowering him gently to the stone. The second his feet touched down, he started running towards the closest guard as Shadow released him. He was on top of the guard before the man could react, his sword swinging.

Just ahead, he saw King Peter taking care of the last guard in the same fashion. Caspian felt a twinge of guilt about killing those who were supposed to be his subjects, but he squashed the feeling, reminding himself that these men were his uncle's allies, and they would kill him if he didn't kill them first.

Susan was lowered down right behind them, with Trumpkin just behind her. They quickly gathered together as their gryphon transportation rose back into the air. Peter glanced around swiftly before his eyes turned to Caspian. "All right, Caspian. Where are your professor's rooms?"

The first part of the plan for their raid was to make it safely to Cornelius' rooms. Lucy and Corin had both been insistent on that, although they hadn't given a satisfactory reason as to why – not that Caspian would argue with them. He had been most concerned about his tutor ever since the man had helped him escape the castle. The plan was to get Cornelius to tell them everything that had been going on since Caspian had fled, and to secure his help in dealing with Miraz. His tutor wasn't a fighter, but he was blindingly intelligent, and Caspian had no doubt that the good doctor would be more than capable of helping them get a confession out of the usurper.

Caspian glanced around, taking stock of their position. On their right was the tower where Caspian had his astronomy lessons. To the left was the tower where the royal household had their rooms – not Miraz, whose room was in a third tower to the north, but the rooms of the doctor, the healer, the seneschal, and the general. Caspian pointed to the highest balcony on that tower. "There."

Peter's eyes narrowed, but he looked oddly satisfied. "Good. We know every inch of that tower." Caspian cast a confused look at the High King and Peter elaborated. "That's the Queens' Tower – Susan and Lucy's rooms were in that tower – and that balcony is part of Susan's suite."

"There are guards stationed all through the tower," Caspian cautioned.

Peter nodded. "I expected as much." He looked at Trumpkin, who nodded and headed off in the opposite direction to complete his assigned tasks. Peter glanced skyward and made a signal. A moment later, the three gryphons descended from the sky and picked up their passengers.

Caspian wasn't quite sure what the High King had in mind, but he had agreed to follow the younger boy's lead. He knew that if Peter was half as skillful as the legends portrayed him to be, he would still surpass Caspian by a landslide. Besides, Peter was the one in charge of this raid, and it only made sense to follow him. It was only moments before the gryphons placed them gently on the balcony.

As Caspian's feet touched the stone, he saw Peter fiddling with the lock on the doors. The High King had pulled out a thin-bladed knife and slipped it into the gap between the doors. A moment later, there was a tiny snickt as the lock sprang free and Peter pushed the doors open, an amused smirk on his face. "Just as easy as ever," he murmured to himself.

"I take it that all the jokes you and Edmund used to play on Lucy and I gave you plenty of practice at breaking into our rooms?" Susan whispered, a mock-annoyed expression crossing her face.

Peter only flashed her a quick grin as he led the way inside the room. Once they were all inside, the High King closed the doors and latched them as Caspian moved deeper into the room. "Professor?" he called softly.

The rooms were dark which was very unusual. It wasn't out of the ordinary for Doctor Cornelius to be awake all night researching or looking for new things to teach his charge. There had been many times when Caspian had come to these rooms for his lessons, only to find his tutor slumped over a desk, fast asleep, his head resting on the book he had been reading before he fell asleep.

It didn't take more than a few seconds for Caspian to come to the realization that the suite was empty of everyone except himself and his companions. He looked back at King Peter and Queen Susan, who were also looking around. Susan's expression was a mingled one of pleasure at being back in the rooms that had once been hers, and disgust as she took in the papers, books, and astronomical instruments scattered everywhere.

A gleam of moonlight reflecting off of something on the desk caught Caspian's attention, and he stepped over to the desk to see what it was. His breath caught in his throat as he realized that the moonlight was reflecting off of his tutors spectacles. The old man needed the lenses in order to read, and he would never have left them behind. Lying next to the glasses was a book, opened to an illuminated illustration of the four Pevensies riding together through a forest.

Peter and Susan came to stand next to him and Susan gasped a little at the sight of the book. "Peter, it's us!" Her hands traced the page before she frowned as they ran over a large hole in the page, right over the heart of one of the horses in the picture.

"My professor is fascinated with stories about you and your siblings, Queen Susan," Caspian told her absently, without taking his eyes from the lenses. He looked swiftly up at the High King. "I have to find him."

"You don't have time!" Peter replied, his voice somewhat sharp. "We need to find your uncle, and you need to get to the gates so Corin and Glenstorm can bring the others."

"Caspian, Peter's right," Susan added. "When we capture Miraz and gain control of the castle, we'll have plenty of time to find Cornelius."

Caspian shook his head. "I'll still have time to get to the gates and rejoin you."

Peter's frown was frightening in its intensity. "Caspian, if we abandon the plan, this could turn very badly for us. Edmund is up in the tower signaling the others. He's expecting you to be in place at the right time."

"I'll meet you in my uncle's chambers. The tallest tower, the highest suite. You don't understand. If it wasn't for him, I wouldn't be here…and neither would you."

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Of all the foolish…bloody ridiculous… Peter's thoughts ran wild as Caspian slipped out of the room into the stairwell. For a moment, the High King almost went after him and pulled him back, but he regained control of himself. As he had told Caspian, Edmund was expecting them to be in a certain place at a certain time so he could send the next signals to Corin and Glenstorm.

"Come on, Su," he hissed, moving out into the stairwell and descending as quickly as possible to the corridor, bypassing the rooms that belonged to Lucy. Once they reached the main corridor, he turned in the opposite direction that Caspian would have had to have gone. "We'll need to hurry." The tallest tower…the highest suite…the Kings' Tower…my chambers.

The utter gall of the man astonished Peter yet again. Every time he thought he had the measure of the usurper – based on Caspian's description of the man – he found himself surprised again. To think that a murderer and usurper had claimed the rooms that belonged to Peter and Krisalyn…Peter couldn't even bring himself to finish the thought.

Fortunately, Peter knew all the passages and shortcuts between the Queen's Tower and the Kings' Tower. It was going to simply be a matter of getting there undetected.

Susan was right behind him, her borrowed bow held loosely in her hand, an arrow nocked to the string but not drawn. Peter's hand was wrapped around the hilt of his borrowed sword. While similar in length and weight to Rhindon, the sword felt wrong. He missed his sword, with its keen edge, perfect balance, and exact length. Losing Rhindon had been one of the hardest parts about leaving Narnia, besides losing Krisalyn and his child – but the ache of not having Rhindon was drowned out by his worry for his wife and child. He had had the feeling that Corin knew more than he was saying about the whereabouts of his wife, but as long as Peter knew that she was safe, he could breathe easier.

Keep your focus on the plan, Peter reminded himself sternly as Susan pulled him into an alcove near a cross-corridor, where footsteps could be heard coming in their direction. That had been a near miss, and while Peter would have no problem taking out any Telmarine that got in his way, it wouldn't exactly be quiet which is what they were going for with this plan.

They waited until the footsteps had passed, before edging out of the alcove and back into the corridor, heading down the passageways towards the stairs that would lead them into the Kings' Tower.

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Caspian moved down the corridors at a quick trot, grateful that it seemed they had arrived at a time when most of the guards were elsewhere. It made the prince a little uneasy – eighteen years of roaming the palace had taught him all the routes taken by the guards, and countless midnight astronomy lessons had given him a fair idea of them number of guards that should be around.

There were far fewer than he had expected, given his uncle's paranoia.

King Peter must have been right. As long as my uncle remains Lord Protector, he has to rely on his own regiments of men, which include the palace guards. In order to take the How, he would need every man that he can spare. Caspian hesitated before rounding the next corner, which would take him down to the dungeons. He listened, making sure no one was there, as an odd thought crossed his mind. Praise Aslan for small favors.

The thought startled him. Never before had he felt any need to praise a higher power. The Telmarines didn't believe in such, and the Narnian traditions had been all but lost, except for what his tutor had told him about Narnia during the reign of the Four Monarchs. Why would he now feel the need to call upon the great Lion?

It must be because the monarchs – including Prince Corin – believe in him, Caspian decided. They invoke him all the time, and it is obvious they believe that he guides them, and they expect me to also put my trust in him as well.

Still, it was awkward, and the whole matter would require more thought, once he was no longer on a stealth mission. Perhaps he could sit down and discuss the matter with the monarchs, or Trufflehunter and the Professor.

Hearing no one in the corridor, he moved around the corner and straight for the stairs that led down. He knew at the end of the stairs a guard would be stationed. There always was someone down here when there was a prisoner. He shifted his weight to the balls of his feet as he descended.

Just as he suspected, the guard was posted, his back to Caspian as he watched the cells. Caspian slowed his pace and crept up behind the guard, drawing his dagger and slamming the pommel into the man's head as he drew close enough. Catching the now-unconscious guard, he grabbed the keys off of his belt, before dragging him out of sight. He didn't know what time the guards changed posts down here, but there was no point in having an alarm raised.

He moved towards the cell and spotted his tutor, lying on a pile of foul-smelling straw, his back to the cell door, apparently asleep. Fumbling with the keys for a moment, he located the correct one and inserted it into the lock, twisting it to cause the bolt to slide back as he pulled the door open.

He dropped to his knees besides his tutor and shook the man's shoulder, waking him abruptly. Cornelius blinked several times at the sight of his prince leaning over him.

"Five more minutes?" Caspian whispered teasingly, the phrase reminding him of the night when his tutor had slipped into his room and saved his life by smuggling him out of the palace.

"What are you doing here?" Cornelius rasped, rolling over as Caspian searched for the key to the chains the old man wore. "I didn't help you escape just so you could break back in!"

Caspian unlocked the shackles and helped his friend to his feet. Once the professor was on his feet, he pushed Caspian towards the door. "You have to get out, before Miraz learns you're here."

"He's going to learn soon enough," Caspian remarked. "We're giving him your cell." He handed the key to the professor so the man could get the chains off of his legs. If he hurried, he could still make it to the gates and back to his uncle's rooms in plenty of time to meet up with King Peter and Queen Susan. They were to take out the guards around his uncle's room and then hold the rooms secure until Caspian arrived, and then they would all take Miraz together.

Cornelius grabbed Caspian's shoulder and shoved him back against the bars of the cell. "Don't underestimate Miraz as your father did."

The words sank slowly into Caspian's brain. My father…underestimate Miraz? What is he talking about? My father died in his sleep…didn't he? But why else would Cornelius warn me about him? He's already tried to kill me once…my father…what does he have to do with this? "What are you talking about?" Caspian managed to croak as these thoughts, and many more, raced through his mind. Surely the professor wasn't implying what Caspian thought he was? Miraz wouldn't have sunk so low…would he?

The old man's eyes dropped to the floor before he spoke. "I'm sorry." After a moment, he looked back up at Caspian.

Shoving his friend and mentor aside, Caspian headed straight up out of the dungeons, rage coursing through him. He killed my father…I'll kill him myself…

The corridors were still deserted as Caspian raced along them, taking the shortest routes, including several passages that were only used by the servants. He was further from the Tower than King Peter and Queen Susan, but he did know of one secret that he suspected they did not. Near the base of the tower, he ducked into a small alcove and pressed himself back against the stones, leaning all of his weight against them while his right hand searched for a tiny, almost hidden niche in the stone…there.

The wall slowly eased back under his weight. He shoved it back just enough to allow him to slip through, before he pushed it back into place, concealing the passage. He was at the base of a flight of steps, and even though he was in the dark, he still remembered the passage. He had found this passage once as a child, when he was exploring. It didn't lead straight into his uncle's room, however.

He raced up the stairs, knowing the thick stone would prevent anyone on the main stairs from hearing him. The stairs spiraled tightly, but the narrow confines of the passage helped him more than hindered him. He slowed as he went higher, and stretched his left hand out, feeling for the wall that dead-ended the passage. Fingers quested in the dark, and a moment later, brushed against stone at chest height and right in front of him. He stopped immediately and pushed his weight against the wall, shoving it out of place and into the room beyond – an empty room at the moment.

He slipped out of the passage and closed it behind himself, before moving through the dusty, deserted room. He was one level below his uncle's room, but he had very little doubt that he had managed to get there before King Peter and Queen Susan, who would have had to go all the way to the opposite side of the palace from the tower they were on, while from the hallway leading into the dungeons, there was a more direct route.

He listened at the door, and heard nothing, so he slipped the bolt back and moved out into the hallway. Now he moved more slowly, so as not to alert the guard he knew would be stationed outside his uncle's suite. He was at the door very quickly and caught the guard completely by surprise. A quick thrust of Caspian's sword, and the man was down. Caspian grabbed him and dragged him out of the way of the door, but didn't bother to move him any further.

I'll kill him myself…no need to capture the Council then…my aunt not eligible for the throne as long as I live. Miraz's son…same thing. Only possibly in line for the position of Lord Protector…but he's much to young. The throne will be mine tonight.

Caspian moved through his uncle's suite and slipped into the bedchamber. The fire burned in the fireplace, banked to allow heat, but little light. There was plenty of light to see by, however, as Caspian moved to the bed, his sword extended.

The tip of the blade came to rest at the tender throat of his uncle. Miraz's eyes snapped open immediately at the touch of the cool metal and he smiled and chuckled softly. "Thank goodness you're safe."

"Get up," Caspian hissed.

Miraz didn't hesitate, pushing back the blankets, although he did tap his wife on the shoulder, stirring her from slumber as well. "Caspian?: she asked, as she realized what was going on.

"Stay where you are," Caspian snapped, backing off slightly to give his uncle room to stand, but keeping the sword tip resting on his uncle's throat.

"What are you doing?" Prunaprismia asked, as she sat up, although she didn't move.

"I should think it's obvious, dear," Miraz replied.

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Peter and Susan hurried up the stairs of the Kings' Tower, passing the suite that had formerly belonged to Edmund. There were no guards, which surprised both of them, but they both passed it off to Peter's prediction that Miraz wouldn't be expecting an attack inside the palace, so he would have sent his guards to augment the forced massing to take on the Narnians.

Squish…

Peter looked down as he stepped in something wet. In the light from a torch resting in a bracket on the wall, the liquid he had stepped in gleamed a bright red. Peter's eyes narrowed. He didn't…he couldn't possibly have gotten here before us. Picking up his pace, he raced up the stairs on the balls of his feet, abandoning stealth for speed. With the blood pooling on the steps, there was likely to be no one waiting in ambush for them.

Low voices ahead caught Peter's attention and he halted just before the open door to Miraz's room – his room. Susan stopped right behind him, her fingers tightening on her drawn arrow in preparation to use it. The body of the guard lying a few steps above them told the truth. Caspian had somehow gotten here first, but instead of waiting for them, he had gone into his uncle's room.

"Bloody hell," Peter swore softly. "Of all the times to turn into a complete prat…"

They stepped into the sitting room and began moving towards the bedchamber, the voices growing more distinct.

"What are you doing?" A woman's voice – presumably Caspian's aunt – asked.

"I should think it's obvious dear," a soft, accented voice, loaded with irony, replied. There was a moment's pause before the voice continued. "You know, some families might consider this inappropriate behavior."

"That doesn't seem to have stopped you!" Caspian snarled.

Peter and Susan paused outside the closed bedroom door, not sure what situation they would be bursting into. They needed to know more. Peter drew his sword, and Susan drew back slightly on her bow, to allow for a faster shot when it was necessary.

"But you're not like me, are you?" Miraz shot back, his voice pointed and sharp. There was no response from Caspian, and a moment later, Miraz's tone was filled with mocking sadness. "It's sad. The first time you've shown any backbone, and it's such a waste."

"Put the sword down, Caspian." the woman said suddenly. "I don't want to do this."

That did it. They had to stop this before the plan was completely botched. Peter raised a foot and kicked the door open as Susan charged past him, bow drawn. "We don't want you to either!"

Peter took in the situation quickly. Miraz was being held at sword-point by Caspian, while the prince had a crossbow pointed at him by the woman on the bed. Susan didn't hesitate, but pointed her arrow at the woman, although Peter knew she wouldn't shoot unless the woman gave her no choice.

Peter, however, focused his attention on Caspian. The prince was enraged – Peter could see it in his eyes, and he held the sword unwaveringly, although part of his attention was on the crossbow aimed at him.

"You know, this used to be a private room," Miraz said with a sigh, as he put his hands on his hips, affronted.

You're right…it used to be my private room…mine and Krisalyn's. The thought crossed Peter's mind before he could stop it, as he took in the sight of his bed, with Caspian's aunt still sitting in it. That bed belonged to him…to him and his wife…or at least, it had. He would definitely be having a new bed brought up here once this was over.

He banished the train of thoughts, despite the memories this room brought back. Now was definitely not the time to be thinking about his wife, or the past. "What are you doing? You're supposed to be at the gates!" he snapped at the prince.

"No!" Caspian snapped back, his voice full of pain and anger. "Tonight, for once, I want the truth." He stepped forward, sword still extended, pushing Miraz back from the window as he altered his stance, prepared to drive the blade through his uncle's throat. "Did you kill my father?"

The question was low…hissed.

Everyone's attention was on Miraz and Caspian now, although Prunaprismia still had not lowered her crossbow, and Susan's bow remained drawn and aimed at the woman.

"Now we get to it."

The answer was soft…vague…but there was no doubt as to the meaning behind the words.

Prunaprismia lowered her crossbow out of shock. "You said your brother died in his sleep."

"That was more or less true," Miraz replied.

"Caspian, this won't make things any better," Susan tried to get through to the prince.

"We Telmarines would have nothing had we not taken it. Your father knew that as well as anyone. He's the one who conquered this kingdom for us."

"And taken it from the people to whom it rightfully belongs!" Peter snapped, fury filling him as he thought about what his people had suffered for the past twenty-five years while he and his siblings had been gone.

"How could you?" Prunaprismia asked, her attention still fixed on her husband's unexpected confession. She apparently hadn't realized how her husband had become regent for his nephew's throne.

"For the same reason you will pull that trigger," Miraz replied sharply. "For our son!" He moved forward suddenly, forcing Caspian to move back, although Caspian kept the sword at his uncle's throat.

"Stop!" Prunaprismia cried, the crossbow coming back to position, aimed at Caspian's heart.

"Stay right there!" Susan called, shifting her aim to cover Miraz.

"You need to make a choice, dear. Do you want our child to be king? Or do you want him to be like Caspian here?" Miraz was still moving forward, forcing Caspian back, as the sword cut him and a tiny rivulet of blood ran down his throat. "Fatherless!"

"No!" Prunaprismia cried, her finger tightening on the trigger, releasing the bolt, which flew across the room and hit Caspian's shoulder. The impact caused Caspian to jerk in pain, and Miraz ducked away from the blade heading towards another door that led into Peter's study, calling an alarm as he did so, as Prunaprismia's screams split the air.

Susan released her arrow at him, but he was too quick, and the arrow impacted the door, which Miraz had slammed behind him. Peter lunged towards the door, but pulled up short as he heard the bolt slide home.

Susan hurried over to check on Caspian, who was clutching his shoulder, bent double over a chair arm beside him. "Caspian are you all right?"

Before the Prince could answer, Peter stormed up to him. "What the bloody hell did you think you were doing?" he raged. "Now everything is messed up! Come on!" Grabbing Caspian by the collar and Susan by the arm, he dragged them out of the suite, leaving Prunaprismia crying on the bed.

"Peter, where-?" Susan tried, following her brother as he released the two of them, drawing his sword as a guard came rushing up the stairs at them.

"We need to get to the gates! Corin and our troops are just outside!" the King replied, finishing the man with a powerful thrust of his borrowed sword.

"It's too late, Peter! The alarm has been sounded!" Susan cried, grabbing an arrow and nocking it to her bow, in preparation for any other guards that were responding to the alarm. "The guards are alerted…we can't fight them all off. We need to fall back!"

Peter looked torn between trying to get to the gates and get their men in to finish the plan, or heeding his sister's advice. Finally he nodded curtly. "We need to get in the open so the gryphons can get to us."

Caspian shook his head. "Follow me, King Peter. My uncle will have crossbows aimed at the courtyard by now. It would be too dangerous for the gryphons." He veered off down a side passage that Peter recalled led to another courtyard on the eastern side of the palace. He frowned. There was no exit this way, and no way for them to signal their troops to pull back.

"Caspian, this doesn't lead to the courtyard," Peter called as he followed the prince at a sprint, Susan right ahead of him. How his sister was managing to run so well while wearing an ankle-length dress was beyond him, but she was easily keeping up with the fleet-footed prince.

"I'm aware of that, King Peter!" Caspian called, turning again and darting up a winding stone stairway. They charged headlong up the stairs, emerging on a balcony on the north side of one of the lower levels. Caspian skidded to a halt and let out a piercing whistle that Peter would have been willing to swear could have been heard back at the How. An answering cry followed, and the gryphons dove out of the night sky, arrowing in on their position thanks to Caspian's whistle.

They swept down out of the sky, quickly scooping up the three royals. As they shot back into the sky, Peter saw Edmund still at the top of the tower, fighting off a guard that had come up to the tower at the sound of the alarm. "Ed! Signal the troops to retreat!"

"I'm a bit busy, Peter!" Edmund called back, just before he slammed his forehead into the bridge of the guard's nose, making the man reel back, and giving Edmund a chance to finish him off with his sword.

Edmund snatched the torch that he had dropped in the fight and turned back towards the forest, flashing the signal that they had agreed would tell Corin and Glenstorm to fall back if something went wrong -part of Lucy's insistence on a contingency plan.

"Fleetwing!" Peter yelled up to his gryphon. "Circle around the castle! I want to make sure that the troops got the message to fall back!"

Fleetwing nodded and quickly banked around to the front of the castle. Peter was gratified to see that Corin and Glenstorm were urging them to fall back and get out of harm's way. Peter glanced over to see Caspian next to him, the gryphons carrying he, Susan, and Edmund matching Fleetwing with ease.

"Peter! What about Trumpkin?" Susan called, pointing down into the courtyard.

"I'll get him!" Peter reassured her, gesturing for Fleetwing to dive. The gryphon obeyed instantly, heading for the courtyard just behind the gates. Trumpkin was standing near a window in the room where the drawbridge was raised and lowered from, his bow out as he shot at the Telmarines trying to get into the room.

Fleetwing back-winged sharply, slowing his speed just enough that he was able to glide in right behind Trumpkin. Peter called out to the dwarf, who glanced back once, before shooting another arrow into an advancing Telmarine. Turning swiftly, he scrambled awkwardly out of the window and onto Fleetwing's back just as the gryphon came up behind him. As soon as he was on, Fleetwing swept his wings up in a powerful stroke and shot up into the night sky, Trumpkin hanging on for dear life.

"To the rendezvous!" Peter told the other gryphons, who immediately turned and began following the retreating troops. Reepicheep and his fellow mice would sneak out the same way they had slipped in, and would meet them at the rendezvous point as soon as they could. One of the Fauns was waiting just inside the forest, where he would meet the brave mice and carry them to safety as soon as they arrived, being able to move much more swiftly than the three mice could.

A lone figure on horseback could be seen following the troops and Peter signaled to Susan to take a look. Her gryphon dove, leveling out just above the rider, but a moment later shot back into the sky, gaining altitude rapidly. As Susan came alongside Peter she nodded to reassure him. "It's Doctor Cornelius! He slipped out after Caspian freed him and led a horse out one of the rear passages before the alarm was sounded!"

Peter nodded, his mouth tightening at the thought of what had caused their plan to fail so spectacularly. If only Caspian had listened…this wouldn't have happened! Miraz would be our prisoner, we would have reclaimed Cair Paravel, and this war would be over!

He would be having a long talk with Caspian when they got back to the How.

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