18. When The Table Turns

"Listen to me... If I die-"

Caspian shook his head and pushed away from the balustrade and Susan's embrace. "But you won't!"

They'd spent most of the day in the royal library, looking for something to explain the ritual Cornelius had mentioned, but they had found nothing when they at last had called it a day. Tired and exhausted, the couple had avoided prying eyes as they'd returned to Susan's chamber to watch the sunset in private. The tender moment had not lasted long before the woman had made her worries public.

The Queen of the Horn leaned against the balustrade and gazed out towards the horizon and the darkening sky that chased the light of day. Her tender, hoarse voice was low as she ignored the king's outburst, "I almost did yesterday."

"This isn't about yesterday," the Telmarine countered with his own accent carrying strong yet gentle above the evening breeze. "It's about today. You're trying to find arguments to convince me I didn't act myself this morning when you awoke."

"You're a logical person, Caspian," the Pevensie argued. "Now that we know why we were called back, Aslan will send us to England as soon as this is over. It's the way it was last time."

"First of all, this is love. There's no logic involved. And I thought we had decided to not let fear rule us in this decision."

The woman shook her head as she refused to accept defeat in this. She'd had a whole day to think about it and though things were vastly different, some remnants of doubt lingered in the recesses of her mind. "I don't want you to waste yourself on me, when you have someone like the star's daughter to make you happy."

The king sighed from somewhere behind her before his arms tugged on her to turn around. His large, calloused hands rose to cup the woman's cheeks as his eyes searched hers long and hard for something. Susan distantly covered one of his hands with her own as she waited patiently for an explanation to his mute inquiries.

"I know you are still riddled with doubt, and that it will take time to overcome it," the man said at length. "Certainly, you won't be at peace until you know for sure. Nor will I. But I have made my choice, and I know you have, too. Regardless of what happens, I'm with you now. No one else. I'll keep saying it over and over until your doubts disappear if I have to."

The young woman smiled as she stepped forward and buried her face in the crook of his neck and felt his long, strong arms envelope her lovingly. "I'm sorry, Caspian. I wish I didn't doubt... But I do want this. Still, I don't think we should tell anyone. Not yet, at least. There's so much going on and everyone needs a clear head to face the dangers that lie ahead. Besides, it concerns only us for now, since the future is so uncertain."

The man chuckled and his warm breath tickled the queen's neck. "You're merely afraid to tell your siblings the truth and hear more cheekiness ensue."

The young woman merely snorted in reply.

The day after, Caspian informed his private council of the latest revelations regarding their foe, and at the end was pleased the meeting had gone smoothly. That was, until he found Lord Greagoir had wandered over to his throne while the other lords had either left the room or were preparing to do so now that it was done.

"I now this is not the time," the grey-haired lord began, "but I saw you and Ramandu's daughter at the banquet. Would she not make a wonderful queen? I believe she is still present in Cair Paravel, if you wish me to call for her."

"Lady Lilliandil sailed home this morning, my lord," Caspian clarified. "I met with her earlier to say farewell and wish her good fortune with life."

"Oh?" the elder man managed with a dazed look to his pale eyes. "I thought..."

Further down the table, Trumpkin raised his head and Caspian noticed he had overheard the conversation as he stepped closer and said, "Are you bothering our king with the marital issue even after the assassination attempt on the Gentle Queen of Narnia? Surely, there is a time and place for everything."

"Certainly. My apologies. It is just that..." Greagoir broke off hesitantly and didn't continue until after the Telmarine man gave him an encouraging nod, "I had heard a rumor that the king himself was bothering with the topic. Though, if he's not courting Ramandu's daughter, it must be someone else. Is it the lady from Archenland? Or... perhaps the Gentle Queen herself?"

Caspian's widened gaze betrayed him and the old lord at once changed facial expression from day to night. His face turned red with agitation and his shock was evident in his eyes as he blurted, "It's a scandal!"

The king's dignified face scrunched up in a tight frown as he stared his adviser down. "What do you mean 'scandal', my lord? Need I remind you of your proper place at this court?"

"I did not mean to overstep, your highness. But it cannot be accepted by the council that you've chosen to court Queen Susan. You should have consulted the council first."

The short red-dwarf snorted in amusement. "He should have asked the council regarding his choice of love?"

"Regarding his choice of bride, yes, Trumpkin," Greagoir breathed through clenched teeth and glanced behind to make sure the three of them were alone. "As you are aware was agreed upon before we sailed off aboard the Dawn Treader."

The loyal dwarf once more spoke up, and the king was grateful for what he heard, "I'm a member of this council, and I fail to see how it could disapprove of Queen Susan. She's one of the finest leaders Narnia has ever seen and is likely to ever see again."

Greagoir was not as easily swayed. Like old leather, he persisted against the elements that worked against him, "The Gentle Queen of Narnia would indeed be a great choice for any king and I do not mean to disrespect the lady. However, she's not from our lands and it must be common knowledge that she will not remain for a long period. Not her nor her siblings. What happens then, your highness? What are the consequences for your people? When she is gone, you will have no wife and no heir to the throne!"

"Then I take it you do not grant me your blessing, noble lord?" Caspian questioned in a weary voice. "Know that I have not asked for her hand and that the queen and I have discussed this problem. But as we have established here today, there are others danger to worry about first."

The aging man quickly countered, "Speaking on that note: was it not you, your highness, that pointed out that love would come second to dealing with the mystery surrounding the Pevensies return? Would you no be wiser to take your own advise and not put your heart before your people and Narnia?"

"I will consider your words," the king said at length and made it clear the conversation was over.

Susan sat beneath the young tree in the Pevensie garden, lost in her thoughts which were reaching deep as an ocean inside her. Her solitude was suddenly interrupted when the mighty lion entered the garden and wordlessly joined the young woman's side. Susan distantly reached out a hand and stroked his golden mane as he began to purr. In her other hand rested a pale daffodil against the dark wine-red fabric of her dress.

"I wish I had been stronger," the queen whispered at length as the wind caressed the leaves above her head. "I wish my faith had been stronger and that my belief in you had not faltered."

"Sometimes, wishing is not enough," Aslan pointed out. "Your actions, dear one, has proven to me that you are stronger than you believe, as is your belief in all of this."

"Maybe," Susan said and met the lion's golden gaze. "But what if I had made the wrong choice?"

"One cannot know what might have been, Queen Susan."

The young woman tugged a lock of her long tresses behind her ear as she smiled sadly. "There is always just one more battle to fight, isn't there?"

"Yes, my little one," the feline agreed in his soothing, strong voice. "Let your wish of a safer tomorrow carry your forward, as it should, but do not surrender entirely to the dream."

Susan dared not meet the lion's gaze as she asked the question that long had burned her throat, "What will become of me afterwards, Aslan? What will become of any of us?"

"The future is yet unwritten."

"My son is dead because of you!" Goraidh growled like a beast and threw his cup across the room. It crashed into the wall and fell to the floor in pieces. The tisroc watched the spilled liquid flow onto the floor as his breaths heaved. He leaned against the table, gazing down at the note they had just received filled with the bad news.

On the other end of the room, by one of the grand windows, stood the Sorcerer with the short scepter in his hand. The magician was gazing down at it as if not listening to the Calormene lord at all. On the window sill, a dark feathered falcon sat, polishing its feathers after having delivered its message successfully.

"Your son is dead because he did not follow the plan," the Sorcerer pointed out. "He killed himself! None the matter… He got what he was sent out to retrieve."

Upon hearing this, the tisroc glared down at the dagger that rested atop the table in front of him beside the note. He looked closer and saw the two dark liquids dance side by side within the glistening blade.

The loss of his son had struck the man harder than expected, but in the end Anash had died for a good cause and completed his mission, just as his company had suggested. They were one step closer to ending King Caspian X's reign because of it. A new era would commence and Narnia would be his soon enough.

"What is our next step?" Goraidh asked and turned his gaze at the other man.

The Sorcerer's cloak floated around his feet as he turned around and his ice cold eyes bore into the tisroc's soul. "Gather your men. It's time we strike Cair Paravel for the finale."

"Strike the palace? I thought it was too well guarded for an attack?" the man hissed. "Needless to say, our presence would be known long before reaching Narnian soil."

"We shall have stealth, my friend," the last word was spoken more in jest than in truth. "I know of a passage that will get us to the very heart of Narnia."

"And what of these news?" Goraidh madly waved the note between the two. "They know. About you and your powers. About the scepter and the dagger. How can we have stealth when they know everything?"

"We still have the upper hand. They're still shocked after the attack on the Pevensie queen and we must act swiftly. The time has come, my lord. The Narnians will be none the wiser."

Goraidh smiled wickedly as he crossed his arms over his chest. His own fears melted away as he understood the Sorcerer perfectly. "I shall ready my men at Calormen's Grove then. They will be ready within the hour."

The Sorcerer smiled back and the evil that shone in his eyes even made the other man shudder internally. One of the Sorcerer's lean hands stroked the tip of his scepter as he spoke, "Make it sooner…"

Susan tilted her head to the side and squinted at the sun's bright lights as she beheld Caspian before her, a bow in his hand. Though he had improved during the past three years, his archery was still not on par with her own. The young man, in turn, glanced back at her with wide eyes. There was disbelief in his voice as he spoke in his heavy accent, "You wish for me to hit a pine cone again?"

The queen moved closer to the king, stepping so close that her chest grazed the back of his pale shirt. Innocently, she pointed up at a tree far beyond the practice field. "Yes, that one."

The bearded man squinted in the direction her slender finger pointed and leaned back just an inch so that their bodies touched. "Now, this time it is an acorn."

Susan arched one fine eyebrow. "Too small for you then?"

Caspian frowned and scratched his beard with his free hand as he pondered his options. At length he lowered the bow. "A good king knows when he is beaten."

"Well, you'd better get used to it," the girl smirked up at the man as he turned around and put his free arm around her waist. "I tend to win, you know."

"Why do I not have a hard time believing that?" Caspian asked as he leaned closer and kissed her sweetly. His heart pounded in his chest and he was sure the woman in his arms could hear it. Still, the echoes of Greagoir's words earlier reminded him of what needed to be voiced and he pulled back slightly. "Listen, Susan... Lord Greagoir cornered me after the meeting this morning and figured out the truth about us. He was... less than supportive."

Susan smoothed a wrinkle in his shirt as she whispered, "And you think he is supported by more council members?"

The man opened his mouth to continue when suddenly he was roughly interrupted by the eldest Pevensie brother storming across the field towards them.

"Oy!" Peter shouted. "Hands off my sister!"

Caspian jumped back as if having been commanded by a superior force. The young woman rolled her eyes as her brother came to a halt beside them. "What do you think you're doing, Peter?"

"I'm trying to protect you, Su," the elder boy remarked in a short tone as he waved his index finger in his friend's face. "You know I hold in you in high regard, but this is my sister. She's been miserable since our return, and we all know it's because of you."

"Oh, way to be blunt, brother?" the girl muttered before she stood up tall and met his gaze head on. "You've misinterpreted the whole thing. It doesn't matter anymore, anyway. Everything's different since I was awoke after the events in the garden, I'm not miserable anymore."

The eldest Pevensie seemed to shrug off her words as he once more faced the dark-haired man. "If you ever hurt my sister… I will personally hunt you down and kill you. I don't care if you're a friend and king of Narnia."

As the brunette opened her mouth to speak, Caspian raised his hand to stop her. He could understand his friend's worry. Though the Telmarine himself had never enjoyed the company of siblings, he considered the Pevensies the closest thing to it. If anything happened to either of them he knew he would react exactly like Peter was now. "I assure you, if I ever did you would not have to hunt me down. I would surrender myself willingly to your punishment."

The former High king seemed somewhat thrown by this response and nodded stiffly. "Good. Then we agree. Just keep her safe, that's all I ask."

The young woman rolled her eyes once more. "Boys... Honestly. I can take care of myself, Peter."

"Susan, you don't understand," the man remarked and turned to his sister. He opened his mouth to continue, but she beat him to the punchline.

"Of course I do. It's always been you and I. We've always behaved like parents almost to Ed and Luce, to protect them. But sometimes, you're over-protecting. Just ask Lucy after your little stint at the feast."

Peter opened his mouth to reply but faltered as his gaze flew up into the sky. About eight meters into the air, a dark falcon hovered above their heads. Even from the distance, the Pevensie man saw something pale attached to its leg. Suddenly, he recalled a small detail he had almost forgotten. He connected the dots and whispered to the king beside him, "Shoot the bird down. I'll explain after. Just shoot."

Caspian hesitated only a second before he strung an arrow to the bow and fired it at the bird. He hit it square in the chest and the falcon fell dead to the ground a few feet away from the trio.

"At least I could hit that target," the Telmarine remarked to Susan before turning to his friend. "Could you share your thoughts with us now?"

Peter didn't reply as he strode over to the dead bird and knelt by its side. He took the the note attached to the bird's leg and returned to the others again. "Look at this."

"A message falcon," Susan breathed as the man opened the papyrus notes and read it silently to himself. When finished, he pushed it into his sister's hands and turned to face Caspian.

"You have a leak among your people," Peter said in a cold voice and explained himself, "I saw a falcon – this falcon – fly away from the Dawn Treader in the middle of the night during our first night back. I've believed for some time now that someone has been sharing our secrets with the enemy. How else could the enemy always have known our next moves? But I didn't understand the connections until now. This is the final proof."

Susan read the note out loud, "...'Your assistance and information, as always, is valued. We shall come through the passage within the hour to collect the rest. Be prepared.' It doesn't have a signature. Do you think it's from the Sorcerer? But what passage does it speak of?"

Caspian hurriedly said, "Cornelius will know. Come, we have little time. We must warn the others."

The trio wasted no time as they gathered their closest confidants for an emergency meeting and explained their recent discovery. The Pevensie siblings, along with the Lord Chancellor, Trumpkin and Rumpelstiltskin sat in stiff silence after receiving the information.

"You don't think your conclusions are possibly erroneous?" the dwarf Trumpkin asked after letting the news sink in. "I think you're supporting your theories on very little fact."

"It would explain a lot, however," Edmund pointed out from his seat and shrugged. "How it always seemed our enemy was ahead of us and knew more of us than we knew of them… But what does the message mean? And who's it from?"

"I'm sorry to disappoint you, my lord," Cornelius said as he inspected the note in his hand and turned back to the other. "I don't know of the passage referred to in the note. I shall consult my books and see what I can find."

Caspian nodded at his old friend as the short man exited the room. The king then glanced about all the people in the room and turned to Reepicheep last. "You, gather the men. Make them battle ready. We must be prepared for whatever is coming-"

A frantic horn interrupted his words from outside and echoed glaringly in the chamber, touching their hearts as if a song of fright. The alarm sounded once more and there could be no doubt of its intention this time.

"Too late," Edmund commented and his whisper died out in the tense silence that followed the horn.

As Goraidh led his company of trained swordsmen atop the winged beasts as they soared through the Narnian air. With the Sorcerer's portal, they had arrived in the lands not far away from the city and palace at all. As they soared over the pale white walls of the palace, Goraidh heard the horrified screams of women, men and children from further down the village and around him in the courtyard.

The guards present in the courtyard were taken by surprise and so swiftly defeated by the Calormene troops. As their blood stained the stone ground, the tisroc and his assassins entered Cair Paravel without much delay. The leader ordered some of his men to stay behind and prepare for the getaway, while his most esteemed men stayed close on his heel as they ran for the throne room.

As his men hurried forward take out the guards that awaited outside the doors, Goraidh withdrew the Dagger of the Mist from his belt and glanced down at the peculiar weapon. Soon it would be filled with the blood of High King Peter and King Edmund, too. They would bleed for the sins the Narnians had done to his son, and for the tisroc's awaiting future as ruler of all this. He was so close he could practically smell victory on the air.

As the last Narnian guard was slain, the Calormene men threw open the heavy, wooden doors and were unsurprised to find their true opposition inside. Close to the throne at the end of the beautiful, stone chamber stood King Caspian X himself, the Pevensies, a mouse, a dwarf and a few soldiers. The tisroc could not help but smirk as he reveled in the knowledge of his surprise attack. The Sorcerer had been right when he had counted this as the opportune moment.

"Who are you? What do you want?" The bearded Telmarine questioned in a strong voice most befit a king as the tisroc stepped forward to the head of the group. The younger king drew his sword to show his willingness to fight, and he was followed by the Pevensie boys and soldiers drawing their own weapons. The others seemed more patient and contemplative.

All dressed in black and with the dagger glistening under the sun's rays from a window nearby, Goraidh slowly stepped in a half-circle before his foes. His voice resembled a bear's growl as he replied, "I believe you know what I am after. Will you give me the blood voluntarily or will you fight me for it?"

"Sorry to disappoint," Peter commented dryly as he stepped forward and his stance spoke volumes of his defiance. He raised the sword upward and glared across the hall at the tisroc.

"Oh, I'm not disappointed, quite the opposite," Goraidh hummed and without further delay ordered his men to commence the final assault.

As his men flew forward with great agile and speed, the tisroc himself headed for the eldest Pevensie king before him. There could be no doubt that the Calormene troop outnumbered the Narnian force present, and if he was quick enough, Goraidh knew there would be no time for back up to arrive.

At the center of the hall, Caspian fought against the largest soldier of the enemy group. Despite his immense seize, the man was both fast and lean, which had the Telmarine man occupied as he could not find a weakness to attack. From the corner of his eye, he noticed Edmund was dueling two men at once, but seemed unknowing about the fact that he was backing up against the wall.

"Edmund!" Susan cried out from his other side in warning as she, too, noticed the danger, but there was no time to explain for the lean queen as she was held busy by a swift swordsman. Despite her weakness with the blade, she managed to hold her own though it was clear she was on the defense without any means to go on the offence and beat her opponent.

On the other side of Caspian, Lucy and Reepicheep fought together against a foe and somewhere behind him, the Telmarine king could hear swords clashing together from the battle between Peter and the leader.

The eldest Pevensie knew he was quicker than the older man before him, but the other was also fiercely strong and so their advantages evened out. It wasn't long before the former High king found himself cornered not far from a wall and with the dark-clad man in hot pursuit, he tried to think of a plan hastily. As a last resort, Peter turned about and ran the short distance towards the wall, kicked off it and flipped backwards to land on the other side of his opponent.

His move had been anticipated however, and as he landed, Peter received a strong kick to the stomach that sent him tumbling backwards onto the hard, stone floor. His head hit the ground and everything became hazy as the room spun slightly. He tried to stand up but the dizziness overwhelmed him like a wave upon a beach and he fell back down. Distantly, he heard his brother cry out his name in alarm.

A shadow suddenly lingered above him and a foot pressed down hard against his shoulder to keep him in place. Goraidh leaned close to the man's face and raised the dagger for the king to see as he whispered, "You're the lucky one. From you, I will only draw a drop of blood."

With those words, the tisroc cut the king across the forearm, placed the knife in its hilt and punched his enemy unconcious. Goraidh stood tall above the king as he watched his men fight around him. He made eye contact with the one fighting the other Pevensie king and with a swift nod, the men set upon their new task. Edmund was kicked into the wall and his grip on his sword loosened as it did. The sound of its clatter echoed between the stone walls as the king, too, was punched unconcious and thrown over the Calormene soldier's shoulder.

"Edmund!" Susan cried again as she saw the men race towards the exit with her younger brother. They seemed to have a clear path to escape and the young woman felt her fear rise within her chest like the tide. She pushed against her assailer to stop them but the man pushed her off-balance and she fell, hands first, onto the stone floor with a pained grunt.

Her eyes traveled up towards the entrance to the throne room where she saw her brother being carried out of sight as a few other men fled, and her eyes wandered to the leader of their unknown foes. The short man with tan skin and dark features smirked down at her through plain maliciousness before he fled the room. Susan heard a powerful cry behind her and turned around on the floor just in time to see Caspian kill her attacker before the man could kill the queen.

The Telmarine and the young woman both looked up as the wooden door creaked almost painfully as it was shut behind the last of the fleeing attackers and sealed from the outside.

To be continued.