Chapter Eleven – Ambush in the Pass
Corin leaped to his feet, groaning as he did so. He turned and scurried down the ladder. Cor quickly followed him down. Corin raced to the door and peered into the bright sunlight. He groaned again as he saw that the gate of the southern paddock stood open. A trail of hoof prints in the soft mud led away from the gate, towards the castle gardens.
"Of all the—" Corin broke off in frustration.
"How to you plan to fix this mishap?" Cor asked, coming up behind him.
Corin shrugged. "Catch them. It can't be that hard." He trotted off, following the tracks as Cor trailed behind. They crossed the distance between the stables and the castle in a few minutes. They heard the soft nickers and whinnies before they saw the horses that grazed peacefully on the edge of the gardens.
"Follow me," Corin mouthed. Cor cautiously followed at a distance. "Here horsie-horsie," Corin called as he approached. "Here, girl!" Lucy's mare Jubilee lifted her head and eyed him. Corin stepped forward, reaching for her halter and he realized that he hadn't brought any lead ropes with him. He looked over his shoulder. "Cor, I forgot the lead ropes. Can you get a couple? They're hanging in the tack room."
Cor obediently trudged back towards the stable while Corin held Jubilee's halter. He patted her neck and talked softly to her. Cor returned with several ropes in hand.
"Catch!" he called and tossed one at his brother. Corin snatched it from the air but the flying tail of the rope spooked Jubilee. She bolted, tearing Corin's grip from her halter. The heads of the other horses flew up in alarm and soon they raced after Jubilee who charged farther into the garden, jumping the hedges and trampling the flowerbeds.
Without a word the brothers raced after them. They heard a scream of surprise and soon nearly collided with Aravis who fled in the opposite direction of the horses. She glared at Corin as she passed, knowing that somehow this was his fault. Corin shrugged his shoulders and kept running. They reached the open courtyard of the garden where the fountains flowed and skidded to a halt as they spotted Susan.
"Queen Susan!" Corin exclaimed as he watched the small stampede swerve in her direction. But being a skilled horsewoman, Susan was ready. She couldn't stop them, but she could lead them back to the paddock. She planted her feet shoulder-width apart and prepared to spring at Jubilee who still led the herd. Susan's hands opened to grab. Jubilee plowed past, but Susan caught a hold of her mane and swung herself up. She leaned over the mare's neck, guiding her with her knees as she circled her around.
Cor stared at Susan in open mouthed in shock. He greatly respected her but couldn't believe his eyes. She rode well but her petticoats flapped in the breeze and her bare ankles showed. Corin noticed his brother's gaping and quickly shoved him. Cor stumbled backwards but caught himself and glared at his brother. Corin ignored him and watched as Susan drove the horses over the flowerbeds and hedges again and towards the corral. Breaking into a run, Cor and Corin followed behind. The horses thundered through the gate and Corin moved to latch it behind them. Susan circled around again, slowing Jubilee to a trot and then to a walk. She slid off the mare's back in front of the gate. Jubilee turned and pranced away as Susan smoothed her mud-splattered skirts.
Corin shaded his eyes as he leaned against the gate, grinning like an old hound dog. "That was some roundup, wasn't it, Queen Susan?"
She laughed shakily, her heart still pounding to the rhythm of the horse's hooves. "I suppose it was, Corin."
Cor didn't say anything for several minutes, still astonished. He had heard in the past that Susan wasn't always the Gentle Queen, but he never expected that she could ride like a madwoman.
Susan seemed to read his bewildered mind and added modestly, "I learned a few tricks from Lucy. She's the true horsewoman."
Corin elbowed his brother and whispered, "You should have seen them in the races last year."
Susan smiled wryly. "Peter did scold us for being a little too rowdy. I think he would do the same if he were here with us today." She trailed off, and Corin had the feeling that she no longer thought about the horses. Her mind traveled somewhere else, though he wasn't sure where that somewhere was. Susan smiled again, shaking her head to clear the thoughts. "I should probably change my clothes. And one of you needs to explain to Aravis what happened." Her eyes lingered a moment longer on Corin, reminding him to apologize. She added as an afterthought, "And you will need to inform the head groom. No doubt he will want a full explanation."
Corin resisted the very strong urge to groan.
Edmund pulled his left knee up to his chest as he rested his back again the tree trunk in the quiet camp. The stars were shining brightly but no fire flickered with warmth and comfort in the crisp spring air. He was calm and relaxed now that the plans for the Pass ambush were in place. He yawned, letting his head drop onto his arms in an undignified posture. He rubbed at an irritating itch on his neck and felt the cool chain of Susan's locket. He unclasped it, clutching it in his fist and savoring the comfort it brought in the form of memories.
His fist opened and he gazed at the little locket, nestled in the palm of his hand. He opened the tiny lid and discovered a black and white photograph of their father in his uniform. Edmund could scarcely remember when his father had given the special locket to Susan. They had been so young. But now, he pushed away thoughts of events in the past.
Tipping back his head, he marveled at the twinkling stars filling the skies. He knew that they were not just formations of gasses far away. Each star was a living, breathing creature, specially formed by Aslan. They were His messengers and every constellation that they formed was a retelling of His Great Story.
His eyes quickly picked out the now familiar shape of the Great Lion and the four points upon his crown. Edmund thought of Lucy's never wavering faith in Aslan and he prayed that in dark times, he too would never deny the Lion. He remembered Susan alone at Cair Paravel. Not entirely alone, part of him reminded. He knew that Cor would keep his promise and that Aravis and Corin would help him. Lastly, he pictured his magnificent elder brother. Of all that had happened, he realized that Peter would take these abrupt changes with great difficulty. He knew nothing of what had taken place beyond the door, but he prayed for the Lion's strength for his siblings.
Edmund's gaze returned to earth and he readjusted his position on the ground. He wasn't quite ready to retire for the night and something propelled him to stay. A shadow loomed over him and he glanced up to see Oreius standing beside him.
"Oreius." Edmund struggled to his feet.
"King Edmund."
"Do you come to speak to me as my general or as my friend?" Edmund asked, a slight smile flitting across his face in the dim light.
"As your friend," Oreius replied sincerely. He rarely gave long speeches full of useless words, and he knew when his king simply needed silent company.
Edmund leaned back against the tree, thankful for its firm support. For the last week, his mind had been focused solely on making it to the Pass before the Telmarines did. He had accomplished that goal and his plans were in motion. But waiting for time to pass dragged laboriously and his thoughts often drifted to the unclear future.
Oreius stood silently, alone with his own thoughts as he considered the dilemma that the young king was bravely facing. He respected King Edmund and saw it as his duty to help guide him in any way possible.
"Do you think we shall succeed tomorrow?" Edmund's voice broke into the concerned thoughts of the Centaur General.
"Undoubtedly," Oreius answered with confidence. "Do you doubt our capability?"
"No, it's just—" Edmund broke off with a sigh before he could continue. He might have been eloquent before a crowd when debating a complicated court matter, but he was tongue-tied when it came to discussing his personal thoughts and struggles.
"Your plans are created with skill," reminded Oreius. "They are not easily thwarted."
"They have failed before, Oreius," Edmund reminded. "After all, I am only an imperfect man."
A man. Oreius pondered that. To him it seemed that the dark colt was still scarcely more than a boy, struggling to shine in his brother's golden shadow. But the Centaur had to admit that he was doing as best as could be expected of anyone, even of a young king.
He clasped the young man's shoulder firmly. "Aslan will give us victory, King Edmund, I am sure." Then he paced away into the darkness.
"Thank you, Oreius," Edmund called after him. He sank to the ground against the tree once more, the damp pine needles poking into his trousers. His left hand rested on the hilt of his sword and his right hand still clutched Susan's locket that he had momentarily forgotten. He refastened it about his neck so he wouldn't lose it.
Though he could not pronounce the words as she had, Edmund recalled the strange blessing Susan had called out to him when he departed. He knew enough of the ancient tongue to translate the meaning. He whispered them to himself now, "May your heart be true when darkness falls." Then he rose to his feet and staggered wearily to bed.
Cor fingered the crumpled paper in the pocket of his trousers, rubbing his thumb over the familiar creases. In a short time, he had come to know and love every little wrinkle in the parchment. But it wasn't the letter itself that he loved most. It was the wisdom written upon them.
I lift mine eyes unto the hills. Where does my help come from? My help comes from the Lion, the maker of heaven and earth. Trust Him, Cor, and do not forsake His ways, whatever the future may bring. – King Edmund.
"Cor?" A voice called softly. His head snapped up and he saw Aravis peeking through the door. "Can I talk to you?"
Cor frowned, momentarily forgetting about Edmund's words as he was reminded of his disagreement with Aravis. Her words hurt him. They still stung sharply. But he could not deny her the chance to right her wrong. "Yes," he answered.
"Look, Cor," Aravis began uncomfortably. "This is hard for me to do, so don't speak until I'm done. Alright?"
"Alright," Cor agreed solemnly.
Aravis took a deep breath and twisted a lock of her dark hair around her finger tightly as she tried not to look into his eyes. "Earlier, I said some things – a lot of things actually – that I know I shouldn't have. And—" She broke off and glanced up at his contorted face. "Why are you grinning so ridiculously?"
"Grinning ridiculously?" Cor hastily tried to regain his composure.
"Yes," Aravis insisted. "That silly look you assume when you know that you were right and I was wrong."
"I'm not always right," Cor reminded.
Aravis narrowed her eyes. "Shasta."
He bit back a reply and remained silent. He knew that when she called him his former name, she was serious, through and through. "Tarkheena," he shot back.
"Never mind," she muttered, turning on her heel, and darted through the doorway.
"Aravis! Come back!" Cor shouted. "I was only jesting!"
Galen peered around the edge of a massive boulder, waiting for the advancing army that had yet to be sighted. He glanced up as Redwing the Hawk swooped down to give Edmund the latest news on the Telmarines advance. Galen slunk behind the boulder again as he waited silently for the attack to begin.
Edmund conversed with the Hawk in hurried tones before Redwing soared into the sky again. Edmund nodded across the Pass to Oreius who gave a signal to three of the captains. The steady, rhythmic beat of drums reached their ears and they peered into the misty depths of the pass as they waited for the first sight of the enemy.
Galen gazed at the plain spreading out from the entrance to the Pass. Very soon, the first of the Telmarine scouts would appear over the horizon. Then the action would begin. Galen smiled grimly and loosened his sword in its sheath. He was eager to draw his blade, even though Edmund's plans called for capture and disarmament rather than death and grievances.
His eyes focused on the rise of the hill as the first of the scouts hurried into sight. The sound of the drums was still faint and Galen knew that the scouts
rode at least a mile ahead of the main body of the army. The horses flew up the slope but at the entrance to the Pass, the riders were forced to dismount so they could scale the steep walls of either side of the gorge.
Galen's hand tightened around the hilt of his sword as he lurked in the shadows of the great boulder, waiting for the first adventurous scout to come near enough. Sliding rock was heard as the Telmarines scrambled up the crumbling surface. Galen waited for his chance to leap upon them and his adrenaline began to pound steadily in his chest.
Closer and closer. He could see the groping fingers now as the Telmarine scout pulled his body up after himself. Galen prepared to spring. The muscles in his arms tightened and silently he threw his weight upon the Telmarine who was taken aback in complete surprise. Before the scout could utter a cry to alarm the others, Galen had pulled him behind the rock, still struggling and fighting, and knocked him on the head with the hilt of his sword. The man fell limply to the ground, still and silent, but not dead.
Galen was satisfied to see that the other Narnians around him had gagged and bound five more in the addition to the several that Oreius's men no doubt held hostage. A particularly gruff-looking Dwarf slunk towards Galen to take the unconscious scout to a holding place with the others.
"Do you need assistance, Ai' atar?" Galen whispered, using a respectful name as he considered the age of the Dwarf.
The Dwarf shot him a pointed glare. "I'll take no flattery from you." Galen opened his mouth in astonishment but the Dwarf wasn't finished speaking. "Tis neither the right time nor the right place." With that, he seized the hands of the Telmarine scout and quietly dragged him away.