Chasing Reasons
"You come from the Lord Adam and Lady Eve," said Aslan. "And that is both honour enough
to erect the head of the poorest beggar and
shame enough to bow the the shoulders of the greatest emperor on earth; Be content."
-From the book of Prince Caspian (1951)
"Run Calla!"
The sound seemed to ebb the veins out of her body. The cacophony of unimpeded laughter and raucous hoots made her bristle. Her feet tousled hastily towards the high cliffs, hearing behind her the hissing sound the air made when Edmund had thrust his blade in riotous crowds.
After delaying a few encounters, he ran with Calla back to the cliffs as quickly as he could. They had to get out. The weaker of the mob faltered back, yet the men who carried the large axes and sharp daggers took off after them, much faster than ever.
"Don't let them get away!" The villagers scuttled towards their direction, catching up with the pair. While they had been running, Phillip had appeared on their side, neighing brashly as he made his running pace slower. Edmund clutched on the saddle as he ran, and hoisted himself up upon a stress of his weight.
He extended his hand out for Calla to take. She winched herself up, bunking behind Edmund. The villagers threw some of their daggers at them, yet it had merely collided with the coarse barks of numb trees.
Edmund swore under his breath, as he lifted the reins and yanked fiercely on them. They kept running, covering the distance from the villagers. Philip leaped over protruding timbers, but everywhere, the trees barely resembled those that were patent in Narnia. The woodlands had grown thin and cracked. The ground wasn't moist or fertile, as it had coiled hard underneath. There was nothing. No rabbits dashing for cover under the brush, nor did birds flit through the sky.
It seemed, cursed.
Calla immediately saw Lumine, along with Bane and Sabine crouching on the field. The villagers were a bit far now, yet their swarm of pouring masses encroached towards their prey like multitudes of wild buffaloes, raging to gain intimidation. But there was one thing Edmund had been certain about.
It was such that, when he first locked eyes with them, it didn't feel as if he was staring at something human. There were beastly fixations that swirled in their pale, rampant faces. As if they were being driven by an inanimate force.
"We have to go, now!" Edmund roared, tugging on Philip's reins. Sabine and Bane followed, but the mare did not run. Instead, it held its position, with no hint of escaping.
"No, wait!" Edmund heard the sturdy pound of hooves halt to a complete stop as he tugged on the reins. Calla immediately tromped down from the horse, before Phillip had picked up his pace. She ran towards Lumine, but it did take awhile to get to her because of the recent exhaustion she had felt. It was indeed, too much of a tiring day.
"Come on, girl. We have to get out of here!" Calla pulled on to Lumine's neck, urging her forward. The mare did, but begrudgingly slowly. Flashing images of Lucy handing her a spherical, red object sliding down the satchel made her remember something. She reached towards the satchel strapped on Lumine's girth. She lifted the apple to the famished horse, coaxing it to follow.
By this time, the villagers weren't far behind. Their noises echoed into thundering roars and violent rumbles. Calla was running impatient, and began to pull on Lumine's bridles, which kept nipping for a piece of the watery fruit. At the few fast steps, Lumine couldn't take the infection on her hoof. It had grown, quickly than they had anticipated.
And they didn't know why.
Lumine sank down on the bushes, tired. Calla stiffened, craning her neck to look at Edmund and the rest staring at her. Lumine's hoof looked all the more swollen because she stomped on it fervently, causing it to worsen.
She craned her neck to look at the rest waiting for her to run. But then, Calla watched as Edmund, from a far, she had distinguished his languid eyes turn to broaden in horror.
A bellow, full of pain and rage, pulled her around. Barreling up the steep slope, churning soil into powdered grimes was the man with the large axe. Enraging forms of foul malice had seized his face. She couldn't shut out the screams, when a terrible weight had pressed on her throat, lifting her back against the tree. She struggled for each breath, as his grip had grown tighter. Her wound in the back began to bleed again, more than it had before.
The man had an evil grin plastered on his face, ready to finish her off. Then suddenly, a shard of rock had hit him on the side of his forehead, making him turn his head. At this opportunity, Calla kicked him in the guts, scrambling down when his hand released her. She kicked his face at his attempt to grab and waddled away near a tree to gain brief panting.
Calla sat up with a gasp, blinking as she took painful swallows to her parched throat. She couldn't see who had hit him with the rock. She didn't know who did that for there was none near them. Yet, the approaching roar of the villagers had drawn nearer. Her vision followed something unusual behind the trees.
Then, it was there again. The shadow she had seen earlier. It had disappeared yet again within a blink.
The man took his hands upon his chin, rubbing it very deftly. His thumb soon came across something wet on the corners of lips, causing a sly evil grin to appear on his face. Calla used her limbs to crawl, her mouth contorting to excruciating pain. A trill of wicked laughter came as the man dug on his long coat, and pulled out a silver dagger.
"It's not like I will spare you." He smiled wickedly.
The man's evil glower had gone to an abrupt stare, following the sound of the air hissing. His face scrunched as he winced, confused at what had hit him. Calla looked behind the man and saw Edmund's face appear on the man's left shoulder.
"Nor will I." Edmund replied, before withdrawing the sword from the man's body. The man collapsed to the ground after he moaned, a slither of oaths rippling from his mouth. Edmund looked at the carcass, realizing what he had just done. He had taken a man's life. It was a skill he was not proud of. He sheathed his sword and drew his attention back to Calla. She looked at him, realizing that he saved her life.
Again.
"Hurry! They're coming!" Bane slid on the ground after he tested the air, detecting the boisterous noise coming quicker towards them. Edmund carried Calla, who was still dazed on her feet, letting her hand cling on the nape of his neck. He hoisted Calla up onto Phillip, who was stomping his foot in anticipation. Edmund latched himself onto his horse, when on the slope poked out the heads of the villagers, grounded in bloodlust.
Calla shot her eyes down on the earth. "Wait, what about Lumine? We can't leave her!" Edmund looked at he, eyes filled with regret. "I'm sorry. We have to get out of here." And with that, he took the reins in his palms and yelled at Phillip to leave.
A villager landed on top of Lumine, pinning her head down as she struggled to stand up. Lumine neighed furiously, kicking her legs and tossing her head. She called out to Calla, her liquid black eyes resembling the storm-ridden sea. Calla could not respond. She had buried her face in Edmund's tunic, and slowly, their figures faded through the thick corpus of trees.
It had been a long ride. The forest around them was unnervingly quiet. The pine trees that surrounded them rose straight and solemn like pillars of a grand temple. Calla was chewing on her lip, battling the instinct to speak and suppress her anxiety. The guilt deepening her burden rose to a great extent, fearfully stronger than she expected.
Calla dropped down from Philip when she couldn't take it any longer. She fell down on the ground with a loud thud. Philip stopped running, and Edmund whirled him around for another pass. Her eyes met the dark, grey sky, meeting winter's chill. The trees were outlined in the chasing dusk. She stood up with a wobble, blinking at the horse-ridden routes.
"I have to go back to Lumine." Calla rasped, pointing a finger on the tracks they had passed.
"There is nothing we can do, Calla. We had to get out!" Edmund stooped down from his horse.
"No!" Calla clapped a hand over her mouth. "Did you see the way she looked at me? How she looked at me when I left her?"
"She's not a Talking Animal, Calla. Lumine can't understand what you're saying." No, it wasn't. When Calla's eyes locked with Lumine's, the very second they were leaving her out there with the mindless villagers, Lumine was crying. She didn't fathom how horses could sorrow soaked ravenously within its irises. She had clearly seen it. She felt Lumine's disappointment when she left her. She felt Lumine's grief when she was abandoned.
"Calla!" Edmund was suddenly standing before her, his hands resting on her shoulders.
She shook her head, very slowly; regaining her balance when she realized her mind had drifted to taunting memories. "I'm sorry." Calla pulled out of his grip.
"It was not your fault. She understands that, Calla. Don't be addled." He reassured her. "We have to go back to the Cair. Returning to that village would be futile."
"I will get her back. I promise." She whispered, looking back at the cluster of the forest.
Edmund remained silent as he swung himself onto the saddle, leaving Calla to guess she was to do the same. The young stallion tossed his head, impatient to go back to the castle. When they had settled onto his back, Philip began slowly, first to a canter, and then to a trot as Barrow turned his mount east. Phillip tore through the glen, his hooves pounding heavily on the valley floor.
They wove through dense pines, their path twisting but leading steadily upward. Sunlight speared through the tree's heavy cloaks of shadows, its golden blades splitting the darkness into scattered lights to mark their progress.
It wasn't long before Phillip noticed the sight of a grand castle towering just beyond the frisking meadows, and the eagles gamboling above. He trotted on, staying close and keeping himself hidden in the camouflage of the chestnut barks of trees. Edmund held onto Calla, for fear she might drop off again. Then, the both of them noticed there was a riot, a hoot of protests bombarding the castle. Edmund yanked on the reins, commending the stallion to go faster.
"What in Aslan's country…" Edmund heard himself curse, when mounds of people were carrying staffs with phrases of protests scribbled in handwritings of rage and demand inked in red. One of them wrote:
We want them imprisoned, now.
Protect the King. Kill the murderers.
"I think it is best if you wear this." Edmund swathed Calla a hood, covering her head, particularly her face from being seen. He stirred Phillip towards the Great Bridge, stopping so Edmund could take a moment to glance at the opening. Thankfully, none of the people took notice of him. Archenlanders. He whispered, recognizing their distinct physical features.
Phillip cantered on to the warren leading to the stables. Soon, they were alone in the lair of the horses. Thick, damp smells mingled in their scent; yet, the whole room seemed to mourn for a missing mare. Lumine was gone. Calla felt a sensation on her hands when Edmund brushed his palms against hers to unsaddle Philip. The stallion craned his neck to watch them his ears flicking in curiosity.
Edmund unbuckled Philip's gear to the side of a wall. "Why are the people here?" Calla looked at him mortified.
"I'm sorry." He murmured, gripping the handle of his sword tucked in its sheath.
She swallowed hard. "Why?"
"Because I simply don't know." Edmund clenched his teeth. At the same time, a soldier slammed the door open in the stables.
"You're Majesty." Flynn immediately bowed at his presence. Edmund nodded his head at him as a reply.
"I'll just take Philip over on his stall." Edmund said, gripping on Philip's bridles. As soon as he was on the other side of the stables, Flynn approached Calla.
"Where have you been? You disappeared right behind me." He gave her a low growl.
"Where have I been? You were the one who disappeared on me." Calla countered. Flynn's eyes searched her face, wary if she had been telling honestly. "Perhaps you should have been more cautious."
"Perhaps you should stay out of trouble." Flynn grumbled. He looked behind her and saw something missing. "Where's Lumine?" A bolt of electricity jolted through her, remembering what had just happened. How was she supposed to tell she had lost a dear mare of the castle? She had to lie, because clearly, Edmund had told them not to reveal a single hint of their journey in the forest. None.
"Flynn...I" She stammered, words unable to ripple from her mouth. "I lost her." She couldn't divine it if there was a better way to say it. He stepped towards her.
"You what?"
"I set her down on the stream so she could drink. Then she took off. I'm sorry."
"Is that all you could say? 'I'm sorry'?" His tone had grown instinctively bolder and authoritative.
"Do we have a problem here?" Edmund suddenly came up behind Calla, his face casting a wary glance at Flynn. The soldier bowed his head in earnest.
"Nothing, my Lord." Calla looked at Edmund, fixed on his dark eyes.
"If that is so, be on your way." Edmund replied. Flynn grunted at Calla, an unwelcoming stare that made her bristle. Soon, he left the stables, leaving them alone.
"You didn't have to do that, Ed-King Edmund." She said to him, stuttering his title.
"I did not do that for you. I did it because he was out of his place." Edmund replied solemnly. "And that is because you needed some help on your lying." His mock brought a wry smile on Calla's lips.
"I thought Kings practice honesty." She assumed, raising her brows.
"There are times, Lady Winter, that you have to do a little evil, to let happen a greater good." He explained. She was impressed at his logic and wit, and maybe that had been the reason she had tolerated him. After a few moments, Gruben and Hark came upon them.
"My King, you are indeed late. The hunt had ended a good three hours ago. I trust that the High King expects a rational justification of your absence in the court."
"I highly doubt an excuse should be required. I apologize but I will arrive for the council. Just let me prepare myself." Edmund replied, before walking out of the stables. They bowed before the departure of the Just King. Gruben and Hark advanced towards Calla, a blank and serious expression glaring against her own.
"The High King summons your presence."
The immense space in the council room had been astonishing, when Calla entered, along with Gruben and Hark. The sunlight had speared through the intricate stained glass windows blazing amid the dark walls, filling the room with a riot of bright colours. Only now, the room had been met by disputes and threatening suggestions about the concepts of an incoming war, diminishing its splendor. Her figure settled near the pillars, where she could be unseen.
The council room had been divided into three sections. Two large, prolonged tables stretched to the entirety of the room, ten members on one of the tables, and ten also on the opposite, each table representing a different country. In the front where the tables seemed to face, were the steady figures of four thrones, dominating the power the three others seemed to take.
Only in which the four thrones were settled at this moment, two figures perched on them. It was High King Peter, and Queen Susan, attending to the concerns of the council members.
"War is upon us, my King." The room was filled with hastening, violent roars. Advisers, councilors and war strategists milled up in the gallery. Peter looked about on his subjects, facing him in an ominous stare.
"That is the least of our worries, Connor." A woman, aged around in her fifties argued. "I believe the King of Archenland will put into cessation Narnia's alliance if we do not find the murderer of his wife, immediately."
"Caloremene troops are double Narnia's and without the provisions of Archenland, we may well lose this war, Sorcha," Connor faced the king, who said nothing in reply. "Even if it is the focus of our problems, how are we to find the Queen's assassin?"
"Does King Tarquin not have a new wife? Queen Ileana? And a beautiful daughter? Why is it such an obligation to find his deceased wife's murderer?" Sorcha ridiculed, earning her a stern look from Connor.
"Hasn't your husband been a victim of this bloody holocaust, Councillor Sorcha?" Connor asked gesturing to an empty seat next to her.
With a frustrated grunt, Sorcha replied. "I have left that matter ages ago. I think not reprisal shall rid of me the burden."
"Please, my dear council members. Let Aslan breathe on your worries. We cannot settle this matter in violence." Susan declared, explaining softly to the arguing pair.
Peter stood up, eyes meeting twenty others. "Connor, Sorcha, leave your disputes to another matter. In this moment, we need to discern how are we to keep intact with Archenland's support. What say you, Dinros?"
"My lord, the King Tarquin desires to have his retribution fulfilled. It is best that we find the culprit of the holocaust." He answered, his hands feeling clammy.
"There are stirrings happening in our villages, ours and Narnia's." An ambassador from the table of Archenland spoke. "People are disappearing. Deaths as well. It has gone on for months."
"How many?" Peter asked, concern rising in his voice.
"Enough to signal the presence of someone threatening, an abomination in our country. Enough to create panic in affected villages." The man replied.
"What have caused them to disappear?" Susan raised her concern.
"We're all baffled at such events. It could not have been work of a culprit alone. We have come to a realisation that there might be a group progressing these acts."
"The King of Archenland demands the capture of these culprits as soon as possible." Another man voiced from the table of Narnia. Susan bent her head towards Peter.
"Peter, we do not know who the real culprit is. I suggest we send scouts to further investigate this surging holocaust." Susan contorted, her whisper to her brother turning coarse and rigid.
"But Susan, where are we to begin with? I'm not sure how long the King can tolerate us for the war." Peter replied.
"You are the king, Peter. They will listen to you." Susan reassured. Peter clapped his hand over his forehead, frustrated with the decisions. At his quiet contemplations, Gruben saw his chance to speak with the High King.
Bowing gracefully, he approached Peter. "Your Majesty, I have fetched her as instructed." Peter looked up at the soldier.
Peter nodded his head dismissively. "Very good. You may return to your stations. I'll handle her. Has Edmund arrived yet?"
"His arrival is forthcoming." Gruben bowed. Just as he finished his sentence, the door flew open, revealing Edmund in his royal cape and crown. The members sifted the gash on his left cheek, and shuffled at his lethargy.
"I apologize for the delay, brother." He said, walking in the midst of the room. One of the members glared at him.
"Late…again." Peter tilted his head at him, his voice putting emphasis on his questionable punctuality. He faced the people seated in the table.
"It is to my regrets that I can join no further to the discussion. I have an urgent matter at hand. For the meanwhile, my brother and sister will attend to your concerns." He shook Edmund's hand, offering him to sit at his chair. His brother acknowledged, gesturing at his offer.
Edmund's voice can be heard dominating the council, fading gratuitously as Peter walked away towards Calla.
"Come." He beckoned her. She followed him outside the hall, stopping after they had passed numerous pillars and grand chandeliers. Peter opened the door, letting her enter first. As wonderful as Cair Paravel might have been, the room lacked the striking architecture the Great Hall had exceeded. Rather than a high vaulted ceiling, the chamber had a somber, plain design.
Several long tables were arranged in straight lines. Calla inspected the tables, only to realize it had maps stretched wide on them. The charts didn't simply show the geographical features of Narnia, but were also filled with battle strategies, concluded by notes and symbols, arrows that deployed movements.
"This is where we strategize our battles with opposing countries. My brother had created many of these maps you have seen." Peter's voice echoed.
"Why did you bring me here?" Peter sat on one of the tables, and motioned for her to sit on one of them as well.
"I fervently love the country I reign, Calla. As much as I will do everything to justify your case, I can't let my people know I do not care of what's best for Narnia." He answered. Calla's eyes were fixed on the map.
"I'm not sure I follow." She confessed. Peter shuffled in his seat.
"Coming here in the castle, what did you see?" Calla stiffened, remembering what inked words had been scribbled on the boards.
"People, rioting from Archenland." She told him curtly.
"Why do you think?" He asked her plainly, hinting he already had known the answer.
"They know I'm here, do they not?" She took a step towards him.
"Nay, they don't. The root of this uprising is because of the number of deaths and disappearances up surging not only in Archenland but in Narnia as well." Calla stopped, turning stony eyes on Peter.
"If you think my father has anything to do with this, you are wrong."
Peter waved his hand. "I accuse no one of such a matter. It's just that, what answer shall I endow to my subjects about this holocaust? I am their King, and I cannot tell them why. They are starting to doubt my authority; even King Tarquin himself has his own uncertainties towards me. I doubt your father could have done those what they accuse of him, but none could be certain."
His words halted before speaking again. "I have to turn you over."
"No, you can't!" Calla's hands curled around the chair, her grip intensifying.
"I'm sorry, Calla. Truly I am. I know I have promised your protection until further evidence is given, but the people…they just cannot be kept from the truth." He answered, fully aware of her approach.
"And what truth is that exactly?" She asked. The following words Peter spoke had been quite muffled in her ears. She didn't pay attention. She knew she could not go to Archenland. Her father would be greatly disappointed she had failed her mission to do what he has asked of her. Calla knew she had to do something, something that could give her enough time to progress her duties to her father.
"This is hard for you, I know. But understand that—" Peter trailed, but Calla cut him off.
"Give me thirty days." Her voice throbbed.
"What?" Peter stood up, his eyes narrowing into thin slits.
"If I can prove my father's innocence in thirty days, do you promise to stop these accusations towards him?" Calla's eyes were murky, yet she was hoping for his agreement.
"I highly doubt you'll find enough evidence for that complication, and the soldiers of Archenland have more than enough to support their allegation against your father." Peter added. "I think it's best if you surrender, Calla. They shall not hurt you. They only want questions unriddled."
"No, your Majesty. Thirty days. Please." Calla pleaded. The High King furrowed his brows; slightly surprised someone had refused a king.
He shook his head. "I do not know if I can convince the members to extend the time given of the quest."
"You're the king. I trust they will listen to you." Calla convinced, hoping Peter would give in to her suggestion. It did take a while before Peter drew a long breath.
"Alright, Calla. I'll see what I can do." He sighed. Calla's subtle glower churned into a shriek of delight.
"Thank you, thank you, your Majesty!" She curtsied, her thanks repeated.
"Thirty days. No more. No less." The King warned, pointing his finger at her.
"I will prove my father's innocence." She murmured, cantering towards the door.
"I may have to ask, Calla…" Peter trailed. Calla craned her neck, her other hand clutching the knob of the door. His voice was low, and streamed with bitterness and sinewy.
"What is it?" She asked. Peter seemed doubtful of his query, yet his curiosity urged him to ask.
"After thirty days have gone, what if you find out your father really isn't innocent?"
Edited Chapter 7 on 3/17/13. I think to better understand the relationship of Calla and Lumine, I require you to only read that portion of chapter 7 if you will.
Upcoming chapter: a twist of events.
Changed the summary...again. Let me know if you want to kill me out of frustration. I'd be delighted. This will be the last time I'll be changing the summary. I PROMISE.
Reviews will be adored...