Chapter Nineteen - Moonlight Escapades

Edmund stepped back from the flames, his face and arms red from the exposure to the heat. He slipped the signet ring into his pocket. He glanced around for Oreius and ran towards him, empty water bucket still in hand.

"Oreius!" he shouted over the roar of the flames. "Where's Amon?"

Oreius paused for a second. "I haven't seen the boy."

Edmund leaned towards the fires as another bucked was handed to him. He poured out of the contents. "I'm going to find him," he informed Oreius. The Centaur replied with a curt nod. Edmund passed the bucket back to be refilled and darted away, hurrying towards the last place he had seen Amon.

He arrived at the place where Amon had first announced the news of a fire. The boy was nowhere in sight. Edmund sprinted towards the clearing where the Telmarines had pitched their camp, some fifty yards away. He caught glimpses of their tents and morning cooking fires still smoldering through the trees before he burst into the center.

The loud cry of a hawk came from overhead and Edmund froze in complete shock as he took in the scene before him.

Deserted. The Telmarines had deserted their camp.

As the shock wore off, Edmund tried to figure out their strategy. Someone had started the fire as a diversion. While the Narnians had been busy fighting the fires, the Telmarines had slipped off, leaving unnecessary belongings behind. But where were they headed?

Going home was the most ridiculous assumption, he knew. From the first, Edmund had recognized Luzan as a scheming man, but he never thought that after surrender the Telmarines would still try to take Narnia.

Their most likely course would be to follow the river, heading for Cair Paravel. Along the way they would stop to conquer cities such as Beruna. It would be no hard task for them. They could pillage farms, taking the supplies they needed as they traveled along the sturdy roads that Edmund himself had overseen built. It would be nearly impossible to overtake them.

Unless, unless… Edmund racked his brain, thoughts tumbling over and over. He shook his head, trying to clear his brain of the confusion raging inside. He needed to tell Oreius. There was nothing they could really do about it at the moment since the fires still needed to be extinguished. Edmund ran in the direction that he had come from, halting as he recognized a figure running in the opposite direction.

"Amon!" he called. The boy froze in his tracks, slowly looking towards him. Edmund hastened forward, fishing in his pocked for the signet ring. As he reached Amon, he held it up. "Is this yours or do you know who it belongs to?"

Amon snatched it from his hand. "It was my father's." Suddenly his expression looked suspicious. "Where did you find it?"

"I found it on the ground, in our camp, while I was trying to put out the fires," Edmund explained. Amon visibly stiffened. "Amon, please listen," Edmund implored. "I'm not accusing you of starting the fire, but will you please tell me what happened if you know?"

"It wasn't me," Amon stated plainly and he bolted.

"Amon!" Edmund shouted. If the boy was innocent, he shouldn't have bolted. As much as he hated to suspect Amon, Edmund knew he had to until they had proof that either confirmed the suspicion, or proof that pointed to someone else.

Edmund hurried to follow Amon who rushed towards the Telmarine camp. Edmund wondered if Amon knew that the rest of his group had left him behind. The boy skidded to a halt, staring in disbelief at the deserted campsite.

"They left me behind," he muttered.

"I'll help you find them," Edmund offered, laying a hand on his shoulder.

"I don't want your help!" Amon exclaimed, shrugging Edmund's hand off and sprinting forward to follow the trail his countrymen had left behind. He rushed onto the pathway of broken brambles diving into the forest.

Edmund snuck a quick look over his shoulder to discover that the fires were still raging and spreading out in all directions. All the plants and leaves were so dry that they simply shriveled up in the flames. Ahead of him, Amon had swerved off the path to take what he hoped was a short cut. Edmund plunged into the brambles after Amon, escaping from the choking fumes of the burning campsite behind them.

"Amon!" Edmund called. "Please wait!" He waded farther into the bushes, catching a glimpse of the boy's auburn hair. Thorn bushes tore at his sleeves and trousers. Why couldn't Amon have stayed on the pathway, he wondered. He lost sight of Amon but continued wading through the undergrowth, following the trail of broken branches and trampled briars Amon left behind.

Amon raced on ahead, his heart pounding furiously in his chest. Twice he paused, gasping for air as he looked back, trying to force himself to turn back and face Edmund. Three words pounded continuously in his head. It wasn't me! But every time he caught sight of Edmund through the wild brush, Amon hastened on again, twisting and winding until he no longer knew in what direction he was headed.

Edmund ducked under a low hanging branch as he stooped and noticed how soft the ground was. It had either rained here recently or they were nearing a steady supply of water. He hoped it was the latter. Unlike Amon, Edmund had a better sense of direction and he supposed that they truly weren't too far from their campsite. The trees were so tall overhead that he couldn't see the smoke of the fires to confirm this though.

Starting forward again, Edmund could make out the distinct footprints that Amon left behind, but there were other fainter prints, like someone else had used this "path" before.

Edmund slowed his pace, inspecting the environment around him, noticing small notches in the tree bark, or oddly bent branches. These were all signs; signs of something. He wasn't sure what these signs meant, but he was sure that he would know it when he found it.

"Amon!" he called again, noting how the boy's footprints suddenly veered left. He followed.

Suddenly, there came a great snap, like the sound of a monster's iron teeth gnashing together, and Edmund screamed a voiceless cry of agony.

Amon heard the snap.

He glanced back, seeing with horror what had befallen the king. And he fled.

Amon ran from the scene, tears already streaming down his face. He ran. He ran and did not care where he went. Stumbling, crying, and hating himself, he flung his body down beside the trunk of a tree and began to sob because it was all his fault. It was his fault the camp was burning. It was his fault that Edmund lay injured and possibly dying. It was his fault that he didn't have the courage or strength to help the only person who had tried to befriend him.

Amon did not know how long he lay there. But slowly his tears thinned and he pushed himself up, looking around. Night threatened the forest with its presence and Amon shivered. He was lost. He had no idea how far or how long he had run. He had woven in circles trying to lose Edmund. Now that the king was lost, Amon didn't know how to return.

He swallowed, realizing how parched his throat was. He needed to find water. He was hungry as well, but being unfamiliar with the forest, he didn't want to eat anything in case it was poisonous. Slowly, Amon got to his feet, brushing soft mud off his trousers and tunic. He immediately realized that he was no longer alone.

A soft beam of moonlight shone through the curtains that moved with the lazy breeze drifting into the second floor bedchamber. Tucked in bed, Corin lay still on his stomach, listening to the crickets chirp in the garden. He longed to wiggle about but he didn't dare.

His chest hurt more than the actual incision. He had described the feeling to Cor, saying that it felt like an elephant stood on his chest, forcing all the breath out of his lungs. It hurt and Corin was bored. He had been still too long. He wanted to move, to dance about under the open skies. He coughed, pain encircling his chest and lungs. Tears pricked the corners of his eyes.

"Why Aslan?" he whispered inaudibly. "Why me?" He wished it hadn't happened, but at the same time something deep within him felt glad that it had been him. Better him than Queen Susan, Corin reminded himself.

Corin shifted to his side slowly, noticing that he was alone in the room. The curtains moved again as the breeze tried to bring relief to Corin who suffered from a fever. He was tired, very tired, but unable to sleep. Earlier in the night, he had slipped between feverish dreams where everything seemed to be trying to suffocate him. He had woken with a start. But even strange dreams evaded him now. Once or twice he thought he heard faint voices – one sounding like Aravis - but he was sure it was just his overactive imagination. Overtaken by a sudden bout of chills, Corin reached for his blanket, his hands shaking.

The breeze caused the curtains to flap open once more. One of the pieces of material caught on the hook used to pull them back in the day time. The moonlight streamed into the room, falling on Corin's face. For a few minutes, he tried ignoring the light, but found it useless. He struggled into a sitting position, something he had been able to manage the past few days, though he had never been allowed up for long. His head spun at the sudden elevation and it was a moment before he was able to see clearly.

He swung his legs over the side of the bed and slowly rose to his feet, leaning against the wall, not trusting his strength. He moved laboriously towards the window. He reached for the curtain, but stopped half way as his eyes caught a spark of light from the gardens below his window. When he looked again, he couldn't see anything but waited patiently. The flash came again, near the wall. Squinting, he thought he could make out two or three figures. Corin watched as the light flickered out again and then reappeared on the other side of the wall. He frowned in surprise.

The recollection of the hushed voices in the hall earlier reentered his mind and slowly he tried to figure out all that had happened without his knowledge. He had not understood the words whispered in passing, put slowly his mind began to piece things together. The voices in the hall…the light in the garden…they had to be connected.

Feeling as if he couldn't breathe, Corin was forced to return to his bed. He rested for several minutes, air slowly returning to his lungs, before he rose to his feet. He knew he shouldn't be out of bed, but he wanted to know if anyone else had noticed. If they hadn't, he thought that he should probably tell someone – anyone – that there had been people going through the garden wall. He thought he would tell one of the guards, but when he stepped out of his room he could see none in sight.

That's strange, Corin thought. Aravis's room was adjacent to his so he knocked on her door. He leaned against the wall, the familiar burning cough forcing air out of his lungs as he waited for Aravis to answer. A minute passed and Aravis didn't answer. Corin knocked again, louder this time. Another minute dragged by and still no answer came. He slid to the floor, feeling the exhaustion wearing at him.

He could feel something else too. Yesterday – or was it the day before, Corin wondered – Taurin the Healer had warned him that infection had set in. Corin had been expecting the news. All along he had thought that he would steadily get worse and right before he was ready to die, he would drink a sip of healing cordial and he would be perfectly normal again. Just like in the stories. But now he suddenly wondered if it would all be different. Once he overheard Taurin and Susan talking. They had assumed that he was sleeping and openly discussed the likely possibility of Corin's lung collapsing since it had been punctured.

In the dark of the hall, Corin subconsciously moved his hand to rest of his left lung. He struggled for air more now than he ever had during the course of the days since his injury. Corin shook his head. There was no room for thinking morbid thoughts and of dying wishes.

Aravis still hadn't answered and Corin forced himself to his feet. He turned the handle and the door swung open. He stepped into the room and saw to his surprise that it was completely empty. He took a step backwards, trying to figure out what was going on. Aravis. Had she been one of the figures he had seen from his window? Had that been her hushed voice outside his room?

Corin turned and staggered towards Cor's room across the hall, three doors down. His head began to spin again. His chest burned with the exertion but he reached Cor's door and sank down beside it. He waited for Cor to answer his knock, all the while feeling lightheaded. At last the door open, warm candlelight spilling out and Cor started in surprise.

"Corin!" he exclaimed. "Why, you-you shouldn't be up and what—" He cut himself off when he saw the pained expression on his brother's face.

"I-it's Aravis," Corin panted. "Sh-she's gone."

"Can you explain?" Cor asked, taken by surprise, but not from the news about Aravis.

"I saw…from th-the window," Corin continued slowly, his head spinning as he gripped the doorframe to keep from toppling over. "There w-were three…f-figures. I went…to ask…Ar-Aravis if she…had seen them. And sh-she was…g-gone."

They're trying to take the healing cordial." Aravis's words echoed in Cor's mind. "And it-it's my father who is trying to do it." He exhaled in disbelief. She had told the truth. Part of his mind corrected him. He had known all along that she was telling the truth. He just hadn't wanted to believe it, even when he had followed her. He had been too willing to return when she told him to.

"Cor?" Corin asked, his voice wavering. Cor slowly directed his gaze towards him, his mind still reeling. "I don't…f-feel so g-good," Corin moaned. Cor knelt down as Corin's thin frame shook with coughs.

"You shouldn't be out of bed," Cor scolded. "Master Taurin will have a fit. Come on, I'll help you back." He slipped his arm under his brother to support him, and suddenly Corin's body went limp.

Aravis didn't wait to hear more. This was her chance to sneak away. She assumed that Del'eb would be too immersed in his conversation to notice her creeping away. She slipped into the shadows of the trees as softly as possible. She picked her skirt up so it wouldn't drag on the ground and softly stepped between the piles of dew-covered leaves and fallen branches. The waking sun turned the horizon shades of pink and purple as she walked, now able to see what lay ahead of her.

She began to pick up her pace as the distance between herself and her captors increased. She moved north from the place where they had stopped for a rest, but now she turned east, keeping the towers of the castle directly ahead of her. The shadows danced between the oak and maple trees, concealing Aravis's darting shape. Her cloak caught on a thorn bush and she stopped to untangle it as well as catch her breath. Soon she moved on, picking her way through the clusters of scrubs.

Soon she halted as she heard someone crashing through the underbrush after her and she increased her pace, tripping over the ferns and branches scattered in her path. The ground began to slope downwards as she ran and she could barely make out the joyful trickle of water in a rocky creek bed. She rushed towards it, still knowing that she was followed. She snuck a look over her shoulder and lost her footing as the ground suddenly dropped away. Momentum threw her forwards and she tumbled down the rocky slope.

She tried to grab some of the rocks and roots that she rolled past, but every time her fingers slipped. At last she rolled to a stop, one arm flung into the cold water of the creek. For several minutes she didn't move except to extracted her arm from the icy water. Tears welded up in her eyes as every muscle in her body ached. She knew that there would be countless scrapes and scratches covering her.

The sound of sliding rocks startled her but she didn't move. She could hear Calormene curses being muttered and she knew that it was Del'eb who slid down the slope. She didn't even try to get up to flee. She turned her head as she heard him approach.

"Don't get up," he cautioned.

"I wasn't going to," Aravis snapped.

"I was just—" He started but cut himself off. "Never mind. Can you feel your fingers?"

Aravis wiggled them. "Yes."

"What about your toes?"

She wiggled them as well. "Yes."

"Good," he stated. "I don't think that anything is broken." He reached into his satchel that he had brought with.

"What are you doing?" Aravis demanded suspiciously. Del'eb didn't answer. He extracted a small bundle and slowly unwrapped it. Even though it hurt, Aravis eased herself up on her elbows to see better. She gasped. "The healing cordial? You have it?"

Del'eb smiled as he looked down at the vial which fit in the palm of his hand rather nicely. He gentle traced the design on the front, ignoring the lion-headed stopper. He glanced up at Aravis where scratches ran across her face from her tumble. He looked back at the cordial. He unscrewed the stopper, holding the vial towards Aravis.

"No!" Aravis exclaimed. "I'm not going to waste a drop of the cordial on mere scratches. Put it away."

Del'eb shook his head. "No, I want to know for certain that it works. Besides," he added, glancing up at the rock-scattered slopes rising up on either side of them. "It will make it much easier for you to climb out."

When she saw that she could not dissuade him, Aravis reluctantly agreed to take a sip. She opened her mouth and a tiny scarlet drop fell onto her tongue, bursting into sweet flavor.

Author's note: Well, this was a much longer chapter than normal. ;) But you got to check in with Edmund, Oreius, and Amon, Corin and Cor, and lastly Aravis and Del'eb. What did you think of the chapter? Favorite part? Something I could change?