He could not think of anything else. Rage coursed through his body, pumping his legs to carry him faster. He did not care if twenty guards saw him now. He was consumed.

He flew through the castle, a look of determination in his eyes. He knew Susan and Peter were to deal with Miraz but he could not wait. The anger was too strong, too compelling. He wanted to confront him, to see his face. He wanted to kill him and see his blood spill on the floor where his father used to sleep.

He came to the corridor where the councilmen slept. Miraz's door, the king's door, was at the far end, decorated with long red curtains. Caspian opened the door quietly, his hot breath heavy as his thoughts carried him away to some dark place.

Miraz and his wife, Prunaprismia, slept soundly in their ornate room: curtains hung everywhere, luscious pillows and fur blankets covered the seats of chairs and lounges, portraits of themselves and their new son hung above the wooden canopy bed.

Caspian focused on his uncle. Miraz had black hair, a beard that came to a point at his chin, and dark heavy eyebrows. His skin was bronzed and his nose was like a beak. Caspian lifted his sword, placing it at his uncle's throat.

When the cold blade touched his skin, Miraz woke, his black eyes meeting Caspian's.

A cold smile crept onto Miraz's lips and he laughed quietly.

"Thank goodness," Miraz said slowly, his voice deep and heavily accented. "You're safe."

"Get up," Caspian ordered.

Miraz reached over to his dark haired wife, touching her shoulder. Caspian's aunt awoke, confused, and fright colored her face when she saw the prince.

"Caspian?" she said in disbelief.

"Stay where you are!" he said. His voice shook and he did not know if he could control the rage inside him for much longer.

"What are you doin?" Prunaprismia asked as her eyes darted from Caspian to her husband.

"I think it should be obvious dear," Miraz drawled. "You know, some families might consider this inappropriate behavior."

"That doesn't seem to have stop you!" Caspian hissed, pushing the blade tighter to Miraz's throat.

Prunaprismia held her breath and watched her husband carefully.

"But you are not like me," Miraz whispered darkly, "are you?"

Miraz glanced sideways for a moment, a movement Caspian did not catch, and Prunaprismia slowly reached up to the bed's headboard. Behind it, she wrapped her hand around the hidden crossbow.

"It's sad," Miraz continued, "the first time you've shown any backbone…and it's such a waste."

Caspian glanced over to his aunt on the bed and he tightened his hold on his sword when he saw the crossbow in her hands, poised and aimed at his chest.

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

"We don't want you to either," came Susan's voice from the doorway.

Peter and Susan entered the room with their weapons drawn and Prunaprismia switched targets several times, not knowing who to shoot.

Miraz rolled his eyes, exasperation on his face as he put his fists on his hips.

"This used to be a private room," he said, annoyed.

"What are you doin?" Peter asked Caspian in incredulously. "You're supposed to be at the gatehouse!"

"NO!" Caspian shouted harshly, the sword shaking in his hand. His dark eyes glistened but his teeth were barred, his voice vicious, "tonight, for once, I want the truth."

Miraz's eyes narrowed at his nephew.

Caspian moved closer to Miraz, the blade cutting into his throat.

"Did you kill my father?"

Caspian's warm accented voice was distorted, hate pronounced in every word. He twisted the blade and blood dripped down Miraz's neck.

Miraz smiled, pleased. "Now we get to it."

Prunaprismia lowed the crossbow a little, staring at her husband, "you said your brother died in his sleep."

Miraz shrugged his shoulders, "that was more or less true."

Susan was growing more anxious, "Caspian this won't make things any better."

Caspian gritted his teeth, the tears in his eyes shining from the moonlight that poured in through the window.

But Miraz kept his eyes locked with Caspian's, capturing him with his words, "we Telmarines would have nothing had we not taken it." He smiled slowly, "your father knew that as well as anyone."

"How could you?" Prunaprismia asked, lowering the crossbow, her dark eyes looking at her husband in disgust.

"For the same reason you will pull that trigger," Miraz replied harshly as he pointed to the weapon in her hands.

"For our son!"

Miraz stepped closer, thrusting his throat into the blade. Caspian involuntarily took a step back.

"Stop!" Prunaprismia yelled, lifting the crossbow.

"Stay right there," Susan threatened, her arrow pointed at the woman.

"You need to make a choice, dear," Miraz said softly. "Do you want our child to be king?"

Caspian's crazed eyes watched Miraz intently as he stepped closer, further into the blade.

"Or do you want him to be like Caspian here?" Miraz flexed his neck, more blood flowing down his neck, "Fatherless!"

"NO!" yelled Prunaprismia.

The crossbow fired, slicing through Caspian's shirt on his shoulder. He dropped his sword and grabbed his arm, his face contorted in pain.

Miraz ran to a secret door behind a curtain and disappeared.