"It's not fair," whined the fair-headed cabin boy, pouting in a very childish manner considering he was trying to seem more grown up, not less. "Lyra Silvertongue gets to run with the spear carriers; even Lucy Pevensie is going to be shooting with the archers." His dæmon was a wolf a little bit like Susan's Maugrim, only her fur was closer to black than it was to gray.

"His lordship's daughters," said Trumpkin gruffly, gesturing at Lord Asriel and Stelmaria with a quick twist of his red-bearded chin, "will do as they please." The dwarf grunted and slipped some arrows into a quiver, swinging his bow over his shoulder; he was going to be with the archers as well. "You, young man, are not going to fight."

"I'm going to ask the king, if I've got to." The cabin boy pursed his lips defiantly. "So there."

"Don't you even think about botherin' Lord Faa," Ma Costa, who was standing near-by and had over-heard the conversation, told him. "He's got enough to worry about."

"Yous a cabin boy come with the extra Gyptians just turned up for the roping and the raid," added Billy, coming up behind his mother, "not a warrior."

That was the wrong thing to say. Insulted, the cabin boy growled, "I'll knock you down."

Billy Costa did not find this threatening in the least. Corin had a lot of spunk, certainly more than his somewhat timid twin brother, but Lyra probably could have taken him in a fight; he wasn't quite as good a boxer as he thought himself to be.

"Heh," he laughed, "I'd a like to see you try it!"

Unfortunately, Billy had somewhat underestimated Corin's 'spunk' and found himself knocked unceremoniously and indecorously to the deck floor. Then there was a fist connecting with his jaw, and Corin was more or less directly on top of him. Ratter squeaked and Corin's wolf snatched her up in her tough jaw, careful not to actually bite, yet still coming fairly close to it, and shook the poor rat-dæmon from side to side like a cat-toy.

The noise drew Lyra and Lucy; they came running over, clutching their dæmons to their breasts, trying to see what on earth was happening.

By the time they got to the scene of the fight, however, there wasn't much left to see aside from Ma Costa with her strong, weather-beaten, brownish-olive hands pulling the boys apart and cursing at them heartily, boxing their ears with an efficiency only a disappointed Gyptian mother can manage.

"Billy, you alright?" Lyra asked, noticing that her sometimes play-enemy, sometimes companion had a swollen jaw and reddened cheek.

Back at Jordan, in those old days when they'd had their 'wars', such a thing wouldn't have fazed her. But, then, she probably would have been the one who had inflicted any such wounds on him in the first place; hurling damp clay and mud-balls laced with rocks at his face without a care in the world.

"Course." He wouldn't give Corin the satisfaction of admitting it hurt. Nor Lyra the pleasure of seeing him wince in semi-defeat.

Lucy noticed the cabin boy, Corin, and blinked at him; he looked familiar. "Don't I know you? It was you that came to warn us when Rabadash was in pursuit of Susan, wasn't it?"

"No," said Corin, his determination to fight in the raid against the slave traders momentarily forgotten, thanks to Ma Costa's glare and Lucy's question on a whole different subject. "You're thinking of my twin brother, Shasta."

Lucy's eyes widened as it came back to her. "Oh, that's right, dear old Shasta." She remembered now. Shasta had said that he had a twin that worked as a cabin boy for a Gyptian family, she recalled. She felt a little bad for getting them mixed up, but Corin did not seem offended at any rate.

"Lucy, there you are! I wanted to talk to you." Peter came up to them, sliding a sword John Faa had loaned him into a black leather scabbard and strapping the scabbard to a belt wrapped around his dull purple tunic worn over a shirt of chain-mail. "Look, I'm not sure how I feel about you being an archer during the raid."

"Peter," she said, not without a hint of exasperation towards her over-protective elder brother, "we talked about this already. You promised…"

"I want you to be safe, Lu." The expression on his face was too desperate and anxious for her to feel frustrated with him for very long.

"I will be," she said cheerfully, grinning over at Billy Costa; he was going to an archer, too. "Billy will take good care of me. And Edmund won't be far off, I'm sure. Neither will you."

Here, Corin jumped in with, "You know, I could help look after her, too." He paused, trying to look innocent and full of pure goodness. "If I could have your leave to fight in the raid as well."

"Don't fall for it," Trumpkin warned him, shooting Corin the stink eye. "He's a good lad, and he'll be as true as steel to Lucy if he gives you his word that he will, but the he's altogether too eager to be part of the fight. Don't let him."

"I'm sorry." Peter patted Corin's shoulder in an awkward, apologetic way. "No."

"Barrels and Barnacles! I don't know what he was thinking," Trumpkin grumbled as Corin and his dæmon stalked off to sulk someplace else. "If Billy had been hurt, the first result of those foolish thunder-fists of his would not be to help us, but to lose us one fighter."

"Billy shouldn't have provoked him," Ma Costa said sternly, giving her son a sharp look.

"Sorry, Ma." He hung his head in shame, not caring just then what Lyra thought of him becoming all soft and subjective to his mother. Besides, Lyra was the same way around Ma Costa most of the time; she even used to be down-right afraid of her for at least a year after she realized the Gyptian woman was perfectly aware of the identity of the little college-bred, ragamuffin girl who'd tried to take a joy-ride on her boat.

Ma Costa nodded forgivingly at her son and told him to check on Tony who was supposed to be in charge of any food-rations they would need to take along in case of an emergency.

Lyra picked up the biggest, sharpest spear within reach before Peter hastily took it away from her and gave her a shorter one, warning her she was going to poke somebody's eye out with that thing if she didn't get one more befitting to her own shape and size, and also take into account the proper way to hold it. Ma Costa ordered her to obey and listen to him, but Lyra, always having admired Peter, would probably have done so anyway, despite her usual rebellious nature.

"Come, Reep," Lucy said to her dæmon, walking over to the other side of the deck. She hoped Peter would have forgotten his apprehension regarding her fighting in the raid by the time they ran into each other again; or, at least, that he would be too busy to comment on it.

They passed by Farder Coram sitting in a high-backed wooden chair on the port side of the front deck, looking out at the horizon. His tabby-dæmon sat on his lap, and he was lightly scratching absently at her beautiful ears which looked almost golden due to the way the sun was hitting them. Gael was sitting on the deck floor beside his chair with her legs tucked under her; Pattertwig was in the form of a seagull (similar to Caspian's, Lucy noticed).

It seemed like Gael was pulling away a little bit from Edmund; or, rather, she seemed to have forgotten about him for the time being in favor of following Farder Coram around and chattering at him, using a thousand and one words per minute. Probably this was because no matter what tongue or dialect she spoke in, Farder Coram automatically understood. Sometimes he got a little confused because she talked too quickly, but never because he couldn't comprehend the words she used in themselves.

"Are you going to fight, too, Farder Coram?" Gael asked, Pattertwig soaring round in a circle a foot or so away then coming back to land on her right shoulder.

Farder Coram smiled. "Oh no, Gael, not me, I'm too old. I can't do much fightin' anymore, really. It's up to younger men." He remembered his last battle; the one at Bolvangar, he'd been too old then, too, and if his beloved Serafina had not saved his life, he realized he wouldn't be talking to Gael now. It was wise for a man to accept his limitations when push came to shove. Lord John Faa, he was still strong, both of his legs worked fine, he could still fight; as could many others.

"Younger?" Gael asked curiously. "Like Edmund?" Apparently she did remember him after all.

"Yes, like Edmund," the old crippled Gyptian replied; "and Caspian, Billy Costa, and Rhince." Not knowing-as John Faa hadn't told him-that Rhince was Gael's father, he didn't hesitate or feel at all awkward saying his name to her.

"Rhince," Gael repeated, furrowing her little dark eyebrows. "He's the one standing over there talking to Caspian right now, the one with the meerkat dæmon, right?"

Rhince looked over his shoulder at her and smiled.

"He's sad," said Gael to Farder Coram, not returning the smile. "His smile is sad, too."

"I suppose he would be a worried in regards to returning to Narrowhaven."

"Is he scared to fight?" Gael wanted to know.

"Rhince?" Farder Coram laughed. "Good Lord, I wouldn't think it of him. Not him. He don't like Narrowhaven; that's all."

That wasn't all, though. Disliking Narrowhaven was part of the reason Rhince had new worry-lines etched on his face, between the eyebrows and above the bridge of his nose; but it wasn't the cause of his sadness. Lucy had told him, less than a day ago, who Gael really was.

Upon learning the truth, realizing he had a daughter when he hadn't even known that much to begin with, there was little he wanted to do more than race over to the child and sweep her up into his arms, embracing her tightly. But he wasn't so sure he could. This was no wandering baby; she was only a little girl, but she was old enough to know what a father was. And how was he to tell her that she was his daughter? That now that he thought about it, looking at her with different eyes, eyes of knowledge and love, she resembled him-and her mother-a great deal.

He wasn't even sure how to approach her to begin with. Gael had her favorite people, those she spent her waking hours with, mostly Edmund and Farder Coram, give or take a few others here and there, and he wasn't amongst them. So, until he could come up with something better, he settled for smiling over at her when she happened to glance in his direction-however briefly.

Sighing, his smile became a wince of repressed emotional pain, and he went back to speaking with Caspian, working on making plans for the raid.

Edmund, two pieces of slightly tarnished armour slung over one arm and a helmet under the other, walked by.

Gael noticed him and waved, lest he think she was ignoring him.

He didn't think that at all. Actually, he was sort of glad she was attached to Farder Coram; she was a sweet girl and Edmund had grown quite fond of her, but she was also a mite too clingy, and there was such a thing as spending too much time together. He waved back and she reassumed her conversation with Farder Coram.

"What's up, Lu?" Edmund greeted her, noticing Lucy coming towards him.

"Peter's having second thoughts about letting me fight with the archers in the raid," she told him.

"What? Again?" He tried not to laugh; Ella was nearly shaking on his shoulder with his repressed amusement towards the matter. "Do you want me to talk to him?"

Lucy looked relieved. "Would you?"

"Of course." He loved Lucy dearly and was as desperate as Peter to keep her safe, but he couldn't see too much harm in letting her be an archer, especially when she was so set on it and would have plenty of protection. Gyptians were more than skilled at protecting those they cared about; and she would be surrounded by loving Gyptians for the whole duration of the raid.

"Thanks, Ed."

"You're welcome."

He looked both ways and saw that no one was watching them.

Gael was still prattling on and on to Farder Coram, Caspian and Rhince were whispering and had their backs to them, and any other Gyptians that happened to be near by at that moment were busy with various tasks.

Half-grinning, he leaned forward and kissed her on the mouth.

As they pulled apart, Lucy whispered, "What was that for?"

"Oh, no reason," he said, his half-grin a full one now. "I've got to bring this armour to the cabin boys for cleaning, then I'm going to talk to Peter for you like I promised. See you later."

Lucy sighed and stood beaming for a few moments until Lord Asriel came by and broke the mood completely, asking what the devil she was so happy about, and didn't she realize they were planning a dangerous raid?

AN: Review if you please.