Author's note: So here is Chapter 5 at last. It took me a while to write, sorry. It was difficult. :) Susan wasn't cooperating and Edmund wasn't helping anything. But at least it is done!
My Ancient Narnian in this chapter is a mixture of Elven (even though there are no elves) and the ancient Celtic language. On a side note: Ancient Narnian is different from Old Narnian.
Enjoy the chapter!
Edit 2/5/13: With a wonderful suggestion from my writing teacher, I completely overhauled the beginning of this chapter. It makes a lot more sense with future events. I also rearranged events in Chapter 6 and made a few minor dialogue changes.
Chapter 5 – First Blood
Susan sank gracefully onto the settee beside the massive fireplace. She wanted to cry. But she couldn't. It was an empty, confused feeling. She lifted her gaze to the brilliant tapestry hanging over the marble fireplace. It was a Lion; but not a terrible, snarling lion. This Lion was good and gentle, though he was not tame.
A few hot tears slowly trailed down her cheeks, but she did not lift her hand to wipe them away. She knew it was alright to let her façade drop in the private of her room, seen only by the merciful eyes of Aslan.
Looking upon His majestic face, scarcely done justice by the tapestry, brought a much desired calm to her spirit. She wiped the tears from the corners of her eyes. Susan took a deep breath to steady herself. She wasn't afraid, she told herself. Now that she had calmed her wild emotions, she was ready to return to the council meeting. She brushed her hair back from her damp cheeks and tucked it behind her ears. She used her handkerchief to erase the telltale signs of tears.
Susan rose to her feet, squaring her shoulders and smoothing the scarlet material of her skirt. With determination, she strode forward to face the future. She opened the door and stepped into the hall. It was not empty and when greeted by a friendly Hedgehog dusting a suit of armor, she managed to smile for the first time that day.
Continuing down the hall and into the main area, she could see the entrance to the throne room ahead of her. She quickened her pace, and Susan pushed the wide doors open with a burst of energy.
She scanned the empty room and frowned. Surely the council meeting couldn't be finished so soon. "Edmund?" Her hands fell to her sides as she approached the vacant table in the center of the room. She glanced around, her gaze straying to elaborate tapestries hanging from sturdy fixtures in the walls.
Susan's eyes returned to the table as she noted a single scroll, its seal unbroken, resting there. Curiosity won her over and she picked it up, examining the edges and the seal. The seal of King Caspian of Telmar, she noted. She debated whether or not to open it. She made up her mind and returned it to the table, turning on her heel to quickly advance from the room.
But as she walked, she cast a final look over her shoulder at the innocent parchment. She sighed and returned to the table, snatching up the scroll and smoothly sliding her nimble fingers under the seal. The seal crumbled and she knew couldn't change her mind now. She began to read silently, her eyes scanning the unfamiliar handwriting of a Telmarine scribe.
Caspian, son of Caspa, by conquest, King over the city-states of Telmar, Lord of the High Council and Prince of the Far Reaching Lands, Knight of the Noble Order of the Guardaura, to Edmund, called the Just, King of Narnia, Duke of Lantern Waste and Count of the Western March, Knight of the Noble Order of the Table, Greetings.
For to prevent the abhominable effusion of blood… Effusion of blood? Susan tore her eyes away from the paper, reminding herself that she was snooping and probably reading something that was not meant for her to read.
She tried to place the scroll on the table again, but she couldn't. She began to read again, taking in the shocking declaration requesting total surrender or vicious war. Susan was horrified. This haughty king expected that her noble brother would simply hand over his kingdom that he had laboured so many years for?
But as she read over the full conditions of surrender or war, she hesitated. Of course she didn't want to give up Narnia. But wouldn't it be better for her people to willingly submit? If they failed in their rebellion, would the Telmarines ruthlessly slaughter them, giving no regard to age or gender?
We have sent this contract by the hand of our trusted ambassador, Luzan de Arfoni, to whom we have explained the full conditions of surrender or war to present to your Majesty.
With the consent of the council gathered here, this decree is hereby put forth by Caspian the First of that name, on the third day of the fifth month in the seventh year of our reign.
Caspian, son of Caspa, King of Telmar
Susan resisted the strong urge to crumple the parchment in her shaking hands. The words 'surrender' and 'complete desolation' pounded in her frightened mind.
"Susan?" Edmund called. "Susan, where are you?" She spun around, tucking the scroll behind her as the doors opened and the glimmering sun streamed through, blinding her for a moment until her eyes adjusted. "Susan?" Edmund quickly crossed the room to her. "I came for you after the council meeting was over, but you weren't in your room. Are you alright?"
She avoided his question and held out the scroll instead. "Is this what the council was discussing?"
He refused to look at the contents of the scroll. "Yes," he answered. "Ambassador Luzan was kind enough to inform us of King Caspian's decision to invade Narnia."
"What has the council decided?" Susan questioned.
"War." There was no trace of hesitance in Edmund's voice. He was frank and honest with her.
"Was that what you would have chosen?" wondered Susan as her eyes flickered to the scroll clutched tightly in her hand.
"Do you think I would have it any other way?" He watched her carefully as he wondered if she could have ever thought it otherwise.
"Of course not," she answered, brushing a stray strand of hair away from her face.
"Would you have chosen it?" he asked out of curiosity.
Susan hesitated, looking away. "I-I could not say." She turned her face towards him and he could see the turbulence in her eyes as she slowly answered. "What will happen, Edmund, if you fail?"
Edmund sighed reluctantly. "Terrible things will come to pass, if we fail."
"If Peter was here we would be sure of victory," she muttered.
Edmund's heart sank, her words echoing his deepest thoughts. Susan glanced up and he could tell that she couldn't see the uncertainty he felt. He forced himself to speak confidently for her sake. "Susan, I don't know if we shall stand or fall, but I suppose we must trust Aslan."
"But what if He doesn't come to help us this time?" Susan questioned.
"He never abandons His Chosen Ones, Su," Edmund reminded, remembering all the lessons he had learn during his years since coming to Narnia. "He may not be tame and we shall never fully understand His plans, but in the end, everything will work together for His Glory. We must praise Him in the times of plenty and in the times of hardship." But it was one thing for him to say the familiar phrases. It was another to believe it and put it into practice. He smiled at her encouragingly, hiding away his gnawing doubts. "It's nearly time for the afternoon court session to begin. Lord Peridan is waiting for us."
"We cannot work out a compromise, my king," explained the Ferret. "The Water Snake will not agree to my terms."
"And he will not take my sssuggestions into consssideration!" protested the Water Snake.
"Peace!" Edmund commanded, trying his hardest not to sound irritated.
"Why should I give up my right for his desires?" the Ferret demanded.
Susan tried very hard to continue to focus on the disagreement laid before them, but she had lost interest.
"Can we not summon them to return tomorrow?" Susan whispered to Edmund.
"Certainly, but what ails you, sister?" Edmund asked. The Ferret ceased chattering when he noticed the royals whispering between them.
"I am fine," Susan responded. "But this wearies me." She had no patience to spare on trivial arguments when their country was preparing to fight to the death for its freedom.
"Patience, sister," Edmund urged. "I think I have reached my decision." But before Edmund could stand to announce his resolution, the doors at the end of the hall burst open and a Wolf limped in. There were dark stains in his matted fur and his eyes held avid pain and sorrow. A gash above his right foreleg oozed a sickly red. At first the previous occupants of the room were too astonished to speak, but Susan quickly recovered herself and set a courtier to fetch a healer and some bandages.
"What foul news do you bring, brave messenger?" questioned Edmund.
"Please, my king," the Wolf panted. "Forgive me for bringing such evil tidings."
"Speak of this hideous crime. We hold no resentment against you. Nay, we applaud you for your bravery," Edmund answered.
"Thank you, my king." The Wolf bowed low. "It is with much remorse that I present this offence that has been done against our country." He paused and Edmund watched him expectantly. Susan waited in the growing quiet for him to speak. The Wolf raised his head and began his tale. "There was much blood spilled yesterday evening. Eredh, the outpost closest to the Pass of Telmar, was ambushed in the dark hours before dawn. My mate and I could hear the fighting and see the leaping flames from our den, nearly five lion's leaps away." The Wolf shuddered as he remembered the darkness being licked up by the tongues of flame erupting from the burning outpost. "I sent my mate and our five pups to our little village to warn them and seek shelter. My brother and I ran to discover what had befallen the regiment at the outpost. When we arrived, there was nothing left but ashes and bodies. No one was spared. Telmarine arrows protruded from most of those who lay there."
The sorrow that filled the Wolf's eyes pierced through Susan and she unconsciously shivered. She grasped the arm of her chair tightly.
"Are you sure they were Telmarine arrows?" Lord Peridan questioned.
"As sure as King Edmund is king," the Wolf answered. "They were black feathered. There was also a shield, though I regret that I was unable to bring it. But it had the Black Raven of Telmar upon it."
Edmund nodded in silent thought.
"But there is still more," added the Wolf. "We followed the soldiers. From their scents it was probably a raiding party of about five and thirty soldiers. A much greater body than the garrison at Eredh. I followed them to our village. With the outpost destroyed, there was no one to protect us. The village was sleeping soundly. But soon screams echoed from the houses and blood ran in the streets. We did our best to protect our families, but soon the malicious soldiers had cut down the fathers and sons. I believe that a few women and children escaped, but most were slaughtered. My own brother died beside me. It was only the providence of the Lion that allowed me to escape and bring the news to you, my king. That is all." He gave as low of a bow as he could manage with his injured leg.
Several moments of silence passed as images of the night's destruction flashed through Edmund's mind. His fist clenched at his side and fire glinted in his eyes. War was fought between armies not waged on innocent country folk. Only cowards murdered women and children in the dark.
"What of your family, brave Wolf?" Susan asked, her heart stirred to pity. "Were they able to escape?"
"I-I do not know, my queen," he answered sadly. "I pray that Aslan has spared them."
"That is my prayer for you as well," agreed Susan.
Edmund slowly rose to his feet. His face was pale and Susan couldn't read any emotion in it. But his eyes still reflected the fire burning deep within his chest. "We did not ask for war. Instead, we were forced into it because we will not surrender our freedom. I thought that perhaps we could resolve this, but the Telmarines show that they will not easily be reconciled. This is not a war that I want to fight, but I will not stand by while my people are slaughtered in their homes." He was silent for a moment before adding strongly, "This is war." If there had been any possible thought of surrender in his mind, it could no longer survive.
His sword slid out of its sheath with a soft hiss of metal. Edmund raised it so it was held upright, parallel to his nose. His dark eyes narrowed at the shadowy figure several paces away and he wished that the moon would appear from behind the thick clouds. He moved swiftly; his feet gliding over the rough cobblestones. He couldn't miss a beat or the entire rhythm of the attack would be off. He knew each movement by heart. Countless times he and Peter had practiced this routine under the hawk eye of Oreius the Centaur.
In a startling motion, Edmund flew at the fighting dummy standing listless several steps away. He thrust upwards with his sword, before ducking under the flailing arm of his apathetic opponent. He slashed his sword across the back of the dummy and a clump straw fell out. Edmund gave a low grumble of frustration and whirled around for another clash. He twisted around and his sword locked with his opponent's. Now it was a competition of strength.
Edmund clenched his jaw and held his sword steady. He would not be the one to lose. Then he suddenly pulled his blade back, raised it over his head and swung while the opponent was still off balance. Clashing metal met his ears and he smiled. It always worked to disarm Prince Corin. But it didn't work on his brother.
Edmund ducked, twisting the swords against each other and pushing against the dummy which retaliated and whirled around to strike his ear. Edmund growled a little and rubbed at his injury before swinging his sword again. It locked against the other blade.
"Still trying to master that trick, Ed?"
"Still think you can do better, Peter?" Edmund asked with a smirk. He darted away, expecting the counter attack from the invisible blade of his absent brother. When none came, he realized that he had simply imagined it. He sighed in frustration and threw his sword to the ground. The courtyard echoed with the clattering. Panting in exhaustion, he sunk to the ground and, seizing his water skin, drank great mouthfuls of water. He wiped the sweat across his forehead which felt clammy in the cool night air.
He stared out into the dark and now silent training court. It felt good to stretch his muscles again. He had been too stiff from all the council meetings and court sessions. He rolled his shoulders back, wincing when an old injury stabbed at him. He closed his mind against the memories that came with the injury. It held too many images of his brother.
"If only you fought with that amount of resilience in every training session." A voice broke through his thoughts.
"Oreius!" Edmund leapt to his feet and stood very rigid in front of the centaur.
"I am not here to drill you, King Edmund," Oreius announced. "I am here because you need a friend."
Edmund gave a faint smile. "Thank you, Oreius. But I'm fine."
Oreius crossed his arms and looked down at the young man in front of him. "There are a great number of responsibilities on your mind."
"How are you able to see right through me every time?" Edmund asked.
"I am a centaur. It is one of our gifts."
"Just like it is a gift that you have two stomachs and can eat twice as much as Peter and I," Edmund remarked.
"You miss your brother very much."
"Yes." Edmund sighed, as he dragged the toe of his boot through the dirt, creating little dust clouds. "I can't help but feel a little lost without him leading."
Oreius pointed upwards to the stars that were beginning to show as the clouds drifted away. "Can you see Lord Elon?"
"Yes," Edmund answered as he squinted at the twinkling shapes.
"And to his right, Lady Oreleth?"
"Yes."
"And their children descend from them across the sky. Do you not see the shape they make?" Oreius questioned.
Edmund shook his head.
"Follow my finger," Oreius instructed as he traced the stars. "Now do you see what they make?"
"I-it's a Lion." Edmund said at last. "And a crown is upon his head."
"How many points are on the crown?"
"Four." Edmund slowly began to understand what Oreius was showing him. "Elon, the Lord of Mercy, and Oreleth, the Lady of Beauty, as well as two others. What are the names of the other two?"
"You have learned your astronomy lessons well, King Edmund," Oreius commented before answering Edmund's question. "The other two are Eleth, the Lady of Joy, and Piaras, the Golden Lord of Strength."
"Piaras." His voice wavered as he whispered, "Ancient Narnian for Peter."
"Though you have never been told it, this is where the prophecy began," Oreius explained. "It started with the four points of the Lion's crown. The stars have always told of the time when two Sons of Adam and two Daughters of Eve would rule Narnia in the name of Aslan."
"They'll always be there, won't they?" Edmund asked. "Even when we are no longer alive?"
"Until the stars rain down from the heavens and Aslan calls them home, they shall always shine to point those who will listen to the Lion," Oreius answered.
"Thank you for showing this to me, Oreius." Edmund smiled up at the large centaur.
"It was my pleasure, my king," Oreius replied and he let a sliver of a smile cross his face as well.
Author's note: Thanks for all the reviews! I have enjoyed reading them so much!