Author's note: Sorry that this chapter took me so long to write! First time I've had writer's block on this story. Bleh. Thanks to Psyche for helping me work through some character development with Aravis! Enjoy!
Chapter 9 – Messenger at Beruna
Susan raised her eyes to peer over the edge of her book which she was only pretending to read. Cor was silhouetted against the library window, hands clasped behind him as he took in the brilliant sunset. Corin lay on his stomach on the rug in front of the fire, rapidly scanning a dusty volume of ancient history which he had pulled off the shelf. He stifled a yawn absentmindedly with the back of his hand. Aravis sat on the settee with her feet tucked underneath her skirt as her fingers traced one of Edmund's chess pieces. Her mind wandered aimlessly as she stared across the room.
Susan forced herself to suppress a yawn and blinked sleepily by the warmth of the fire. She frowned as she remembered countless nights spent in this same library with Lucy by her side as they waited for their brothers to return after a grueling campaign or perhaps a simple hunting trip.
A slamming noise interrupted her thoughts and she dropped her book into her lap in surprise.
"Sorry," Corin apologized. He held a closed book in his hand. "I've had enough history for tonight." He set the book aside as he sat up and stretched. "It only told about wars and bloodshed." He flopped back down with a sigh.
"I certainly have thought enough about that for one day," Aravis agreed.
Cor turned from the window to face them. "All that we call history – money, poverty, ambition, war, classes, empires, slavery – is the long, terrible story of man trying to find something other than the One which will make him happy," Cor answered. The other three occupants of the room stared at him open mouthed. "I didn't make that up," Cor announced with a sheepish smile as he held up a small book.
Susan laughed. "I was really impressed for a moment there, Cor!"
"I knew he wasn't that eloquent," Corin replied. Aravis nudged him with her foot – none too gently. "Princesses don't kick," Corin retorted as he rolled out of reach.
"I'm not a princess!" Aravis exclaimed.
"Aravis." Cor placed the book he had been holding on the windowsill. "Aravis, we already had this disagreement. You are part of our family now and–"
"I'm not a princess!" Aravis insisted as she leaped to her feet. "Lady is already to lavish a title–"
"Aravis!" Cor exclaimed.
"What is this all about?" Susan interrupted, her blue eyes darting from Aravis's face to Cor's and back again.
"It doesn't concern you," Aravis muttered and retreated to her chair again, not meeting Susan's penetrating gaze.
"Aravis doesn't think that she deserves the title of princess," Corin explained from his sprawled position on the rug.
"Aravis," Susan began gently.
"Please, I do not wish to bring division among us tonight," responded Aravis. Susan nodded in respect. Corin sighed and rolled onto his back, his gaze drifting to the crackling wood in the fireplace. Cor said nothing, but as he turned back to the window, the look he gave Susan told her that he understood Aravis's position, but he had already come to terms with it.
With stamping and neighing and shaking of reins, the great company arrived outside the walls of Beruna. Edmund slid off his sable horse, his boots thumping against the cobblestone pavement. He shaded his eyes with his hand and surveyed the area. To his satisfaction, there were a great number of soldiers already gathered. Supply wagons were nearly full and large barrels were being filled with fresh water before the end of the day. Edmund made his way towards the busy well, leading his horse along behind him. He handed to his reigns to the boy who was waiting to water his horse.
"King Edmund!"
Edmund's head snapped up as he saw a young man, only a few years older than himself, approaching quickly. "Galen!" Edmund greeted his friend. "You have done a fine job here."
"Thank you, King Edmund," Galen answered, a smile lighting up his face at his king's approval. "Father has been a bit under the weather, so I oversaw the preparations for him."
"Tell Lord Marius that I said that you have done an excellent job," Edmund replied. "I am glad that he is allowing you to join us. You are a superb swordsman."
Galen ducked his head at the praise. "You are very good yourself."
Edmund smiled a little and glanced at his friend's hazel eyes. "When do you think the preparations shall be finished? I hope to gain the Pass before Telmar does."
Galen scratched his auburn hair as he calculated. "There are still some wagons to be loaded and the troops from the House of Eriman have yet to arrive. They sent word yester eve that they would arrive in two days."
"Ah, very good," Edmund agreed as they began to walk again. "Then all is going according to schedule."
"Would you like a drink, King Edmund?" Galen held out the full dipper he had taken from the bucket sitting on the edge of the well.
"Yes, please," Edmund answered with a smile as he accepted the dipper. The cool water slipped down his throat easily. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, feeling more refreshed.
"King Edmund!"
Edmund turned around, dipper still in hand, to see Lord Peridan hurrying towards him, helmet tucked under one arm, sword swinging in its sheath to match his stride. A hawk gave a cry overhead as Edmund shaded his eyes.
"A messenger," Lord Peridan announced and gestured to the circling bird before disappearing among the bustle of the camp. Edmund extended his right gloved hand and with fluttering wings, the Hawk descended to its perch.
"Greetings, Redtail," addressed Edmund as he returned the dipper to the bucket of refreshing water. "What word do you bring?"
"Only this, my king," Redtail answered as he bowed his head respectively to his king. "The Telmarine army is only three days from the Pass. However, they have halted their advance for nearly two days now. They seem to be waiting for a signal or an order for advance."
"Or for our progression," Edmund muttered, rubbing his chin with his left hand and casting his eyes to the ground as he thought. "Perhaps they have created some sort of snare for us." He lifted his head again. "Redtail, is it possible to have Sparrows sent to the capital to spy? I know it is deep into enemy territory but do you think they could make it? Perhaps the Gulls could watch the wharves as well, in case the Telmarines plan an invasion by sea."
"It shall be carried out at once, my king," Redtail agreed. "I do not doubt that our bravest Sparrows would be able to stay hidden in the capital. I shall also send word to the Gulls."
"Thank you," Edmund responded. "We must take all precautions if we are to seize the upper hand." He inclined his head to the Hawk who responded similarly before soaring into the vibrant Narnian sky on his way to the Pass.
"Do you really think that they would try to take Narnia from the sea?" Galen asked as he and Edmund began to walk again.
"No," Edmund answered. "It would take them far too long to sail around the southern waste lands below the tip of Calormen and the northern pass will be frozen until midsummer."
"So they will have to come by land," Galen assumed.
"Yes," Edmund replied. "Unless they sail down the Great River. But they could only use small boats and probably could never manage to make it safely down the falls. I think it is safe to assume that there will be no attack on Cair Paravel and no invasion from the sea."
"Then we have only one place upon which to center our attacks," Galen announced. "On to the Pass!"
Alone in her chambers, Susan cradled her head in the crook of her elbow as she leaned heavily against her personal writing desk and watched the flame of the candle dance in the dark. Her fingers strayed across the smooth surface of her desk and stumbled upon Lucy's sheathed dagger. Susan smiled softly as she pictured her vibrant and cheerful sister, golden hair flowing behind her as she laughed and danced in the warm summer breeze. How she missed her piece of pure sunlight!
Susan's fingers began to trace the grooves in the small lion-headed pommel. As she looked at the dagger, she was reminded of another blade with a lion-headed pommel. Susan sat up abruptly. Rhindon. What had become of her eldest brother's trusty blade?
Grasping the silver candlestick in one hand, she hastily rose from her seat, her chair grating across the floor. She seized her cloak hanging in its place near the fireplace. She settled the cloak about her shoulders, fixing the clasp loosely. Then she swung open the door and stepped into the silent hallway. She walked quickly along, casting a brief smile to a Leopard guard sitting near the doors that led to the Princes' chambers. But she didn't stop.
Susan hurried past Edmund's room and Lucy's as well. At last she arrived at the oaken door to Peter's chamber which she had only dared to enter once since his disappearance. Her hand hesitated as she grasped the doorknob. But then she flicked her wrist and the door swung open quietly on well-oiled hinges. She entered rapidly and refrained from glancing around the familiar place that still smell of her brother.
She went to the gilded chest in the far corner. She knelt down beside it, her grey skirt around her as she set the candle carefully on the ground beside her. She lifted the heavy lid of the chest and peered inside. Various parts of Peter's armor protruded from the pile in distorted positions. She carefully lifted the dwarf-forged chainmail hauberk out of the chest. It brought a proud smile to her face as she thought of how magnificent her brother always looked as he rode off to protect their country and defend their honor. But brushing aside the memories, Susan reminded herself of her purpose and set the chainmail back in its place.
There was no Rhindon in the chest. Susan had guessed that from the beginning. She sat back on her heels and tried to think. Maybe Peter had left Rhindon in his study. However, she knew that Peter rarely went anywhere without his sword. But if Peter had taken his sword with him riding, which was the most probable option, wouldn't Edmund have found it with the crowns? He hadn't mentioned finding it, and she certainly hadn't seen it anywhere.
Susan rose to her feet again, deciding upon her next course of action. She would write to Edmund and ask him if he had seen the important sword, or had perhaps forgotten to mention it. She remembered to take the candle as she swept towards the door.
She reached for the doorknob, but lingered a moment more, looking around the familiar place. Her eyes locked on a tapestry embroidered with great skill. But even the skill of the seamstress could not capture all the splendor and glory of the Lion upon it.
"Aslan, where are you? What is happening?" she whispered. She waited for the familiar voice, or perhaps even the stirring of the wind. But no response came. She turned and closed the door soundly behind her.
Susan walked down the hallway again, but this time her steps were slower and less anxious. She took her time, pondering the restless thoughts her in head. Besides writing to Edmund, she had run out of places to look for Rhindon. Why she needed to find it, she wasn't sure. But perhaps it was because it was so important to her brother.
Susan stopped suddenly as she noticed that the door leading to the ballroom was ajar. She peered into the darkness of the vacant ballroom. Movement drew her eyes toward the marble balcony bathed in harsh moonlight. She saw the figure of a girl, clad in a flowing pale nightdress, black hair tumbling over her shoulders.
Author's note: Well, there you go! Until next time, when you discover who the girl is!
Oh, and what Cor reads from that book is an actual quote from C. S. Lewis. I had to tweak it slightly so it was in Narnian terms.