Author's Note: Here's the new chapter. A few messages to my reviewers, regarding their queries:
LuvNarnia: My very first reviewer! Hm….. Actually I was giving Peter, Caspian, Ed and Lu more time right now since we have to build a background for this story. I mean, yes, Jadis has returned but how are the Pevensies and their friends going to combat her now? But don't worry, Lionel (it's Lionel, not Leon) will be introduced eventually. And since you are one of my most eager reader/reviewer, a huge thank you to you…
MCH: I can't give all my secrets away. Many things are going to happen next, just keep reading and thank you for the compliments. They really mean a lot to me.
Alice-Ann Wonderland: I'm slightly biased since I too don't like Susan, especially after 'The Last Battle' but I always felt sorry for her. Plus her story is spectacular. C. S. Lewis leaves a lot open to the reader like whether Sue will come back to Narnia. I love Ed, he is THE best! Your reviews are absolutely amazing! It is very nice to discuss Narnia with other fans.
1234: I'm really sorry but this is my exam year so life is completely hectic. But I'll try to update faster from now on.
Guest: I have two 'guest' reviewers so I'm going to answer you both under this. I'm glad to know that you guys really want Isabela to come back (It's Isabela with an 'a' at the end, not Isabel). The story is still under development, you never know. But since Isabela died in the last story, it would take a LOT of imagination to bring her back.
littleweb: Hopefully updates will be faster now. Thank you for your eagerness.
anniecarrots1: Thanks a lot! I'm glad you love the story.
Crystal-Wolf-Guardian-967: Firstly I love your pen name. And secondly, thanks for the review!
Candy31: Well Peter did come back so he knows that Isabela is dead but he doesn't know about his son, since that was 400 years ago and not to mention, only a handful of people knew about it, many of whom have died by now. No one was there to tell him. And I'm flattered that you gave this story such a high rating.
Additionally, a humongous thank you to all those who favourited this story and added it on alerts. Sherlocked9412, ClapClapSing, mkaylakay94, .2013cv, Alice Ann-Wonderland, Rain on my Windows, BS1995, MCH, LivforMusic, Marianne 16, newgirl5, .Nicoleta, imightbeinlove, NarnianLady14, clarinetgirl628, Crystal-Wolf-Guardian-967 and MythicalGirl17. If I have missed anyone, I am extremely sorry. Thank you all!
Disclaimer: I do not own the Chronicles of Narnia. C. S. Lewis does.
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"That was the last of the bread." Caspian said, straightening up and flicking his crow-black hair out of his face. The words were murmured silently to Peter and Edmund so that the child who was hungrily gnawing on the 'last' bread piece would not hear.
"I have a few more." Edmund offered. Peter stared at him, eyebrows raised. He added defensively. "Come on. I'm not that big a glutton. I know well about the spirit of sacrifice."
Peter clapped him on the shoulder. "Good to know that you are becoming selfless, Ed."
Edmund made a face at him. "But that won't be enough to last for more than a day. And that's only if we're feeding the children and a handful of the women."
Peter shook his head and Caspian looked on in dismay, biting his lip. "What are we going to do now?" He muttered wearily.
"Why not organize a hunting party?" Peter suggested, leaning back against one of the trees. "There are bound to be some wild animals in the wood. Not all of them are Talking."
He glanced around him. This was the third day of their retreat. They had made it across the deep gorge over to the other side and were now resting. The pale rays of the dawning sun cast slight light over them, just enough to see their surroundings and appraise them better. Some of their men had died, from wounds that were bleeding too badly to staunch. Lucy's healing cordial was with her but some of the men were too far gone to be healed. It was useless to do so. And though all of them regretted it, it was impossible to heal every man.
Instead the power of the cordial had been used for those who were less in danger of dying, who would be able to wield a sword in a day or so. Despite this they had a company of nearly four hundred people to feed. And that was no easy task even though many of the people had enough foresight to bring food.
"I suppose." Caspian said doubtfully and then sighed. "I have some daggers and bows. Care to use them?"
Peter scrutinized the weapons offered and in the end selected a dagger. If only Susan were here, she could shoot the dust off a squirrel's fur in nearly a seventy mile radius. Not for the first time, he wondered where his sister was, if she was in Narnia at all.
I doubt it. He thought, remembering Susan's haughty statements about the non-existence of Narnia. Aslan wanted her to believe and she's done anything except that…
All Peter hoped was that Susan was safe, where ever she was. If she had been left behind at the Telmar castle, then….
Snap out of it. He ordered himself. You're a king. The welfare of these people rests on you now.
But as soon as he diverted his worries from Susan, they turned to Aslan. He remembered with perfect clarity how Aslan had told him and Susan that they would never again come back.
He remembered the sheer agony, the desperate anger when he realized that he would never again set foot in the land of his heart, of his kingdom, of his people. But more than that, Narnia was a reminder of his wife.
Isabela.
The mere name sent ripples of pain through him. The last time he had come back, Aslan had not mentioned her at all. Indeed, he had been to Cair Paravel's remains but he hadn't known that Isabela lay in the very grounds of the castle. It was only at the end of his journey in Narnia, that Aslan had told him. It had been nothing but a blow to his face. Dead. Dead. No, not dead, but killed. By Vladimar.
Unconsciously, Peter's hand closed around the hilt of his sword. Nothing would quench his fury but driving his blade through Vladimar's heart. He was frightened of the strong emotion, never had he felt a hatred so strong for anyone except Jadis.
But he had hidden it, hiding it beneath layers of indifference, pretending that Isabela had been but a dream that had turned into a nightmare. He knew full well how reproachful his siblings were. Edmund had never actually said anything but once he had heard him and Lucy whispering furiously amongst themselves.
Now, back in Narnia, in the land where his and Isabela's story had begun, he could not ignore it.
Could not ignore his memories. Could not ignore the guilt that coursed through him, the fury that made his hands shake, the remorse and sorrow that tore him apart. If only he had been there, if only he had been there to watch her back. Narnia was his to protect, not Isabela's.
Yet she had paid for it with her life. He had never even apologized to her.
I never saw her laugh after… He pushed it away. He could not think of it. It was unbearable. After all the accusations and cruel words, he had flung at her.
"Peter?" Caspian's voice jerked him back to the present. "Peter, I-"
Caspian froze when he saw Peter's expression, the whiteness of his eyes and nearly took a step back. His voice faltered slightly. "I- Lucy, she came up with an idea. She wants you to discuss it with her."
Peter took a deep breath and said in a voice of forced calm. "I'm coming."
"I-" Caspian hesitated and then, biting his lip, he gave a curt nod and went back.
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Lilura winced as the soldier crumpled to the floor, his uniform marking him from Telmar bloodied with the dagger that Jadis had thrust into his chest.
He staggered, gave a gasping breath and then plunged headfirst to the floor, where he lay still. Jadis gave a slight scream of fury and turned to her cowering right-hand minion: a small, maniacal dwarf called Grimsworth.
"What are you doing standing there, dwarf?" She asked, her voice cold. "I ordered you to fetch me some useful informants who would be willing to give us information. You fool! Go, go now!"
Grimsworth nearly ran from the room, his legs could not carry him fast enough. Jadis stared at the dead soldier and her eyes, so pale and unnerving, bore into his wasted face.
"You say they escaped?" Lilura kept her voice carefully neutral but she could not help a small smirk appearing on her face. It was lovely and could have been called beautiful, but the malice and evil present in her poison green eyes stripped all of the stunning features away leaving only an outward beauty.
"I would have thought that even you could have grasped the fact with your simple mind."
Lilura only smiled. "Careful sister. You need allies to win. Otherwise it just mind end like last time…." She trailed away, her eyes taking in the detail around her.
Her own palace was underground and it was warm and inviting but those who went there were trapped there forever. The Telmar castle had been built some half a century ago by one of the pirate settlers from the human world.
"You need to be careful too sister." Jadis replied icily. "For though you have your people and are powerful, you cannot defeat me. Do not threaten me again."
If it was anyone else, Lilura would not have believed them but this was Jadis. Sometimes she privately wondered if all of Lilith's, who had been their ancestor, extreme power had gone to her sister who was deadly even without her notorious wand that could turn the living to stone.
"The comforting fact is," Jadis swished her long white gown and settled on the throne in the room. "That foul beast, Aslan, has not come. If he does not hamper my plans, we will succeed."
"But the soldier told us that the Kings and Queens of Old have returned. Surely this was Aslan's doing."
"They are weaklings!" Hatred blazed in Jadis' face. "They survive on Aslan's name alone. And besides, they have been lost in the wilderness of the forest. They will not make it out alive several hundred hungry women and their brats and many wounded. And even if they do, where will they hide? They cannot run from me forever."
"But sister," Lilura studied an ornate tapestry hanging on one side. It was a royal purple and embroidered with the castle of Cair Paravel, where the four thrones were present. "Why did you not follow them?"
"Ice does not favor the forest."
"You mean that the forest is a symbol of the accursed Aslan." Lilura pointed out. Jadis did not answer but her yellow eyes stared into hers. Finally Lilura looked away. "I will follow them, if it is agreeable with you, sister."
Jadis' knuckles on the arm of the throne tightened and she said: "They have a lead on us of three days."
"It matters not." She said and looking up, she glided to the high doors of the hall. "I will find them, tear them out from the forest. Like you said, they cannot hide forever. Do you have any inkling where they would go?"
"My forces have been sent to Aslan's How and other parts of Telmar. But they may not go there at all."
"Oh?" Lilura arched an eyebrow. "And where would they go? Ah… I see."
Jadis' face remained blank but she was staring at the tapestry, her fathomless eyes taking in every stitch.
"But you cannot be so sure." Lilura added, slightly dubious. Surely the kings and queens would know how obvious it would be that they would return there.
"No." Jadis agreed. "But it would not be wise to leave this place unguarded, not at all wise."
"I'll go there personally." Lilura bowed mockingly. She knew it would not aggravate her sister. She also knew that Jadis would kill her as soon as her worth finished. But right now, she was important. Too essential to Jadis.
As she glided away, her green dress trailing behind her, she heard Jadis murmur to herself.
"I will tear this castle stone by stone. I will burn it down. Aslan will not win this time."
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"Go forward and duck through the arch over there." Peter whispered, glancing over the sheaf of notes in his hand, a roughly drawn map and an old battered watch that he had brought from England. He pointed over to the arch in question.
The man, a young noble of several important estates according to Caspian, nodded, his face bright with concentration. Behind him were two centaurs, bows as ready, as silent as shadows that were falling over courtyard of Cair Paravel. Along with them, shuffling quietly in the mossy ground, were four others: two men, a Talking Bear and a faun.
Peter sighed mentally. They only had a couple of hours to draw up a rough plan and carry out the operation. It was important not to be spotted so it was during night that they were entering their castle.
Across the courtyard, on the other end, Edmund held up his torch, that Caspian had so tenderly cared for, and switched it on. The light blinked twice and Peter, heart hammering madly, held up two fingers and pointed them at the arch and jumped out, landing as lightly as a cat.
The young noble went second, his sword drawn out, his step light and lithe. The centaurs came up at the rear of the group, bows at the ready, their raven eyes sharp. Peter flung himself against the wall of the castle, eyes roaming around the courtyard.
As they had only one torch, that went to Edmund's group, Peter had to make a signal using the old fashioned way, lighting a lantern and flinging it around.
"Make sure you extinguish that." He murmured to the other man, whose face was glittering with sweat. He nodded tersely. Peter looked around one last time and ducked into the arch, holding his own lantern aloft.
The light from the lantern threw the walls in sharp relief. Peter saw that they were the same as from their last visit, only more chipped and broken. One of them was soggy, as if water had filtered through it. He climbed down the stairs slowly. Behind him he heard a loud crash and swearing he turned around.
"What are you doing?" He demanded in a furious whisper. The faun scurried up, yelping as his foot pierced through a stray trinket on the floor. "There is a reason why this mission is secret."
"Apoloies, my king." He murmured and Peter's irritation faded.
"Don't be. Just follow quietly." He turned back and made his way, quicker now, more alert since he feared that the crashing and banging had awoken every monster in a 10-mile radius. "Through here."
He set the lantern down and crouching on his knees, pulled at the handle in the floor. It was a trapdoor, built in the time of Queen Swanwhite, a place where he and his siblings had often hidden in during their long reign. It was stocked with food, put there by order of Aslan when he had last come to them. When Peter had asked him about it, he had merely growled saying that they would have need for it in future.
Did you foresee all of this? This war, this terror, this fear, this pain? He wondered. The handle was rusted badly and grunting the nobles came to assist him, putting in their efforts.
Peter was panting by the time it had opened and as he bent low into it, jumping into the passageway, he saw that his hopes were rewarded. The food was perfectly fine, though it had been years since it had been put here. Perhaps Aslan had placed an enchantment on it.
"Gather all that you can." He instructed and himself began loading his a pouch like sack with the loaves of bread. To his dismay, he realized that there was no water. Well, they would have to rely on the wild for that. In another part of the castle, Edmund and his group of men and Narnian animals were picking up weaponry. Armors made by the race of dwarfs, swords forged in fire, arrows that shot with deadly accuracy.
Caspian and his squadron, prominently made of Telmarines, were in the edges of the ground, skimming the boundaries, looking for signs of enemies. Despite the desperation of the people, Peter feared that the witch would find them. It would be too much to expect that she would not search here for them.
But desperate they were. And forced to come. They would all die otherwise.
"Pick only the most necessary article." Peter added sharply as he saw one of the Telmarine men examine a dusty bottle of wine longingly. "We cannot linger. Hurry!"
They obeyed though unwillingly. Peter knew that they Narnians he could count on to his last breath and that they were utterly loyal to him. But the Telmarines were another matter altogether. They had not forgotten how Peter and his army had attacked them nor had they forgotten the untrue tales passed down from generations that likened Aslan to a monster and Peter to a soldier of the devil.
He was worried about it. Jadis could easily lure them into her trap. As easily as she had led Edmund. With sweet promises of revenge and vengeance, of power and glory.
"My lord, the centaurs report a light flashing outside." A faun peeked out from the trap door.
Peter paused, feeling uneasy. Swinging the sack to one of the nobles, he swung up through the trap door and rushed up the stairs, his heart beating rapidly. He pulled out his blade with a satisfactory hiss.
Outside the night was dark and still, as if there was no disturbance, and Peter glanced at the centaurs at the door. Their faces were grim but serious. One of them trotted forward and pointed to the thicket of trees.
"It came from there, sire."
Peter scanned the grounds but saw nothing. "Are you sure? The torch was with Edmund and he's in the rear of the castle now."
"Perhaps he gave it to someone else to use in case of danger."
"Perhaps." Peter agreed, not pointing out that Edmund would throttle the person who dared to use his beloved torch. "I'll stand guard here. One of you should go and hoist the sacks up. We have enough. We have to get out of here before we are spotted."
One of them, the gray-haired one, went and Peter took his place, his sword still held aloft though he was careful that it was hidden, not glinting in the sparse light.
He glanced up as a blink of light came from the forest again. Without a doubt it was there. It went on and off, on and off, at least seven times before it extinguished in the shadows.
"I'll go check. If it was any emergency, they would have been more urgent. It may be a message." Peter stated and moved forwards but the centaur pulled him back. His cheekbones were high and his eyes a clear crystal blue.
"Sire, no. I beg your pardon for refusing your orders but I will go in your stead. You stay here with your men."
With great reluctance Peter did, recognizing the firmness in the centaur's tone. Never the less, he was cautious, following the centaur's fluid motion and observing the surroundings.
The centaur was holding the bow aloft as he knelt beside the forest, his sharp eyes assessing the trees. Within seconds he had melted into the forest. Peter began feeling the first tendrils of apprehension and with it some fear.
It seemed hours but Peter finally caught sight of the centaur trotting back, his expression puzzled slightly. He stared around the forest carefully and then at Peter, his mouth forming words that Peter could not comprehend let alone understand from such a distance.
He made to move forwards but the centaur reined him back with a hand held up. His steps very light, his eyes very sharp, he made his way back to Peter who glanced back at the staircase. His men were hoisting the sacks across their shoulders, handing them to the gray-haired centaur who had been sent below.
He heard the sharp twang before he saw the arrow. The wind whooshed as the dagger-sharp point flung and as Peter's head snapped back, he saw the arrow protruding from the centaur's neck. There was silence and then, with a deafening clatter, the centaur fell on all hooves, his blood spilling on the ground of Cair Paravel as behind him the night exploded.
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This was supposed to be updated yesterday but it was delayed. So here it is, the next chapter as promised. Keep those amazing reviews coming. Your comments and criticisms are highly appreciated. Review, Review!
L. Potter