22 - Wolves In Winter

It was the nation and the race dwelling all round the globe that had the lion's heart. I had the luck to be called upon to give the roar. - Winston Churchill

- # -

"Your Majesty!" A Stag ran into camp and skidded to a halt before Corisande, Narnia's High Queen, with barely a bow. "The Witch's ships are moving on Narnia!"

Cori, dressed in what was, for her, full armor (bareheaded, with a loose mail shirt and leggings, for the werewolf in her required little more, even in winter), turned to scan the horizon over the coastal cliffs of Eastern Narnia. Nothing interrupted the endless expanse of iron-grey sky and steel-grey water but the powder-white of falling snow. She turned back to the Stag. "What of King Peter?"

"He has driven back the giants, and his forces are set to guarding the Witch's castle. They are exhausted, my lady. The loss of Queen Lucy has been a mighty blow."

Cori ached so fiercely at the mention of Lucy that the werewolf inside her gave a despairing whine. She straightened her shoulders. Her troops needed to see her strength, even if she didn't feel it. Battles with Calormene brigands and raiding parties had worn them down like grain dashed between millstones. How much longer could they hold until Aslan came?

Would Aslan come?

Cori shook off the treacherous doubts. Belief that the Lion would arrive was sometimes all that sustained her troops. Food was getting scarce in the winter bleakness, and provisions that might have come from Telmar were hampered by mountain passes and thieves. The mere reflection on Aslan gave courage even when things looked darkest. She bowed her head, silently thanking him for choosing her to lead an army of his.

Hoofbeats sounded in the trodden snow. Cayo, once a dumb horse and her favorite mount—a lifetime ago—approached. Aslan had granted him speech after the Battle of the Stone Table, but with her, he hardly needed it. Another thing to be thankful for. Their years together afforded Cori and Cayo a bond so close that they rarely resorted to much discussion when a thing had to be done. He understood her as no one but Peter could.

Susan and Saris would even now be fortifying the Cair against attack. Susan had charge of Aidan, Peter and Cori's son, while they were away defending Narnia's borders. Cori's heart gave a fierce lurch at the injustice of war tearing apart her family and scattering it across the land. The wolf in her snarled, demanding action.

"All right," she said at last. "We are closest. We shall move North to Cair. If Peter feels it safe to do so, he may leave Oreius at the Witch's castle and join us with whomever may be spared."

The Stag cast a look over Cori's shoulder, toward the mountains bordering Archenland and Calormen.

"The southern border must wait," Cori said, answering the Stag's unspoken question. "We go to the greater danger."

Cayo nodded to her. "I will alert your captains and return to carry you." He spun and cantered off. The Stag left to inform Peter of her intentions.

Cori bowed her head and pressed her fisted hands together against her brow, an old prayer posture leftover from her days as a soldier in her home country. A Telmarine soldier often spared a few moments for this before great battles. He would ask the stars for their light, to illuminate an enemy's stealthy wiles, and for their all-encompassing vision over the world, to search out an enemy's movements and be there to stop them. But now, the words that fell from her lips were for Aslan.

"Lion, watch over Cair and all who dwell within its walls," she said. "Give us speed, to be there before the sword of the enemy comes down. Give us stamina, to lift our blades to defend Narnia's heart after our journey. Give us strength, to endure if our loved ones fall." She raised her head and kissed her fisted hands, staring northwest toward where she knew Peter's encampment must be. "My heart, I leave in your keeping."

- # -

Leina stood beside the helm of the Splendour Hyaline, Narnia's fastest ship. For King Peter to have allowed her the best of his fleet during wartime, he must have taken the news of Lucy's death hard indeed. Leina strove not to tuck her tail and crouch with apprehension at this most hazardous plan. Though she cared for only one human in any world—and it wasn't Peter—she would follow the High King's wishes until they were seen through.

They were almost to the Windless Boundary, traveling faster than they might if they'd been escorted by other ships. Still, Leina wished Peter had thought with his head instead of his claws. Why did I not stay in Selbaran all that time ago? she thought regretfully. Why did I not return to the wild after ... he ... left?

She looked to the helm. A burly satyr named Ridriken manned the wheel. Beside him stood the figure of Tumnus, bowed with age and grief, but with a resolute gleam to his eyes that Leina had seen in many a battle-ready wolf. As Leina loved Edmund, so had Tumnus cared for Lucy. Her death could not go unanswered.

Tumnus seemed to sense Leina looking, and their eyes met. A surge of aching kinship filled her. She nodded to the faun, but then the ache became too great to bear, and she trotted away to the bow.

When this was over, she told herself. When this was over, she would return to Selbaran and lose herself in its forests. Never to mate, never to bear pups, never to speak a word again, even to her own race. The world was unkind to those who loved. She flattened her ears now, and stared ahead into the greyness. A fog began to swallow the ship.

A last task to serve him who called her heartmate brother. And then, she would let the fog of forgetfulness swallow her, too.

- # -

Ed paced the deck of The Phoenix, watching the sky one moment and the horizon the next. Lucy and Arrow had flown ahead to scout, and were not back yet. The Windless Boundary couldn't be more than half a day away. Less, Ed was certain, in spite of what their ship's instruments said. He felt the tension on the very air.

Boots thumping the deck heralded Van's approach. Ed pivoted on his heel to find Van eyeing the clouds, his hands flicking restlessly at his sides as if waiting to snatch his sai from their sheaths.

Ed gave him a wry smirk. "You, too?"

"It's too quiet. I don't like it," Van rumbled. "Not even birds."

Ed made a thoughtful noise and scanned the grey water as they sliced through the waves. "No merfolk, either. No serpents, no whales, no fish. We must be close. Everything's run for cover."

"Lucky them," Van said, stuffing a twist of rope between his teeth. "Where's Lucy?"

Ed looked askance at him. Van had never called Lucy by her given name. The two stared at one another for a moment.

Van scowled much more vehemently than awkwardness at being caught calling her familiar should have allowed. "Is she in the air, or not?"

"She's fine," Ed said, still scrutinizing his first mate, now with brotherly suspicion. He rested a hand on the hilt of his sword, Wandbreaker, and let Van see him doing it. "Maybe I should make a few things clear about Queen Lucy."

Van raised his eyebrows. "You're not about to lecture me about your sister, are you? The leddy's got a sharper tongue than that sword." His eyes gleamed with envy for a moment. "Bloody fine piece of steelmaking, that. Where'd you get it?"

"It was given to me before my first battle." Ed leered. "I'd hate to use it on someone I like."

Chuckling, Van turned to watch the sky. His smile faded. "She's coming."

Ed followed Van's stare. Lucy and the griffin were no more than specks yet, but the beast raced toward them as fast as one of his kind could go. There could be only one reason for that. "Bear down, Van. We're about to meet company."

Van gave a grim nod. "If you've got any tricks up your sleeve, mate, you might want to start cashing them in."