I apologise; I don't like this chapter and it's very frustrating, but it's all I can write right now. That's all I have to say for myself.
Sunlight and golden hair; Lucy. The blankets surrounding him were warm but somewhere in his bones he still felt the chill of snow and mountain air. He stared, only half seeing, at the blurred face of his sister and could only find strength to voice a single word. "Peter?"
Lucy shook her head, at least it seemed so to his blurred vision. "He rode out again, hunting the Witch and her creatures."
Peter had found him, carried him home, and left before he could wake. He would not want to face a traitor. But somewhere in his mind a Lion roared and Edmund shook his head. No, he would not want to leave Narnia unprotected.
"Edmund?" But he was already drifting back into the welcoming arms of peaceful sleep.
When next he woke, Susan had replaced Lucy at his bedside. The Gentle Queen smiled when she saw his eyes open and Edmund forced his stiff lips to move in response. "Susan?" His throat was dry and he coughed painfully.
"It's okay, you're back at Cair Paravel. You're safe now brother." But when she smiled it did not reach the darkness in her eyes.
"What is it?" He pushed himself up against the pillows and tried to clear his muddled brain. "What aren't you telling me, Susan?"
She shook her head hesitantly. "Just rest, you're still weak as a kitten. When Peter found you-" her voice broke and after several long breaths she seemed to compose herself. "You were half frozen when they found you and you wouldn't wake. Between your being sick already and nearly freezing to death we thought we had lost you. Even Lucy's cordial didn't seem to work." She ruffled a hand through his hair.
"Don't avoid the question, Susan. I haven't had my wits frozen out of me yet. What has Peter done?"
"He rode out after the Witch, almost as soon as he brought you back; I've never seen him so angry. I'm afraid for him; he always acts so recklessly when he's in a rage. If only you could be there for him." Edmund shivered despite the blankets and guilt flashed briefly across Susan's face. "I'm sorry, Ed, I didn't mean it like that. I'm just worried for him. Please, try to get some rest."
Edmund stared after her, his head spinning with exhaustion, despite having just woken up. He was missing something, something important, but he was so tired. Perhaps it didn't matter so much; he was home, he was safe, and whatever it was could surely wait. If only Peter had the good sense not to fly into a rage and place himself in unnecessary danger. Susan's right; I should be there for him. But try as he might, Edmund could find no strength to stand, let alone go to his brother's aid.
"Peace, dear one," Aslan told him as they once more stood upon the beach. "Your brother is safe; no harm shall come to him this day. But you must listen carefully to what I now tell you. In the library, you will find a book which has no title, and which appears on first inspection to be blank. Place that book upon a bed of burning coals and then read the passage entitled King's Bane; once you have read it you must act quickly. And now, Edmund Pevensie; there are three here in Narnia whom you fear above all others. Who are they?"
Edmund stared at The Lion in confusion. "I-I don't understand, Aslan."
Aslan growled softly. "Edmund, you must know what is in your heart. Who do you fear above all others?"
"The Witch," Edmund admitted hesitantly, though he dropped his eyes in shame as he said it.
"Very good; you fear that which is evil and which seeks to destroy. Who else?"
Edmund recalled his first days in Narnia and felt his cheeks burn. "Myself," he said at last, his voice barely audible, even to himself. "I fear what I have been and what I may yet be again."
The Lion bent His head and looked straight into Edmund's eyes, then, in a voice that was impossibly gentle, he asked; "Who else do you fear, Son of Adam?"
"You, Aslan?" but even Edmund knew it was not the right answer.
The Lion shook His golden mane and laughed. "No, Edmund, fear is not the same as love and respect, though often they go hand in hand. You will know, very soon now, whom it is I speak of. When you know, I will show you the way. Now, rest, for you are yet weary, and will be called upon to act soon enough."
Edmund wanted desperately to stay on the beach with Aslan, but already the golden figure was growing smaller as if it were being pulled away from him at a great speed. For a moment, he struggled to go back and then a great feeling of peace swept over him and for a time he seemed to float in a gentle darkness.
The next time he woke it was to a deafening crash. His eyes flew open to darkness and for one, terrible moment he thought he was back in the Witch's cave. Then a candle flared to life and he realized he was in his own bed at Cair Paravel and it was night. Peter set the candle on the table beside Edmund's bed and bent to retrieve the goblet he had knocked to the floor in the dark. He turned, suddenly aware of Edmund watching him and smiled wearily.
"I didn't mean to wake you. The girls said you were recovering; I just got back." Something about his voice sounded strange, but with his face hidden in shadow Edmund could not identify what it was.
"What happened?" his own voice was so hoarse that it sounded foreign to him. Peter silently refilled the goblet with water and helped him drink when his hand shook too badly to hold it.
"Nothing," he said at last. "Nothing unless you count fighting the Witch and losing to her. She ambushed us in the mountains." He fell silent and Edmund waiting, sensing there was more. "Orieus is dead." His voice was flat when he spoke at last. "He died allowing me to escape. I acted recklessly and it cost him his life."
No. Aslan, no, not Orieus. "Peter-"
"Don't Ed, just don't." And at last Edmund recognized the emotion clouding his brother's voice. He had expected it to be grief or even guilt, but it was stronger and harsher; anger, rage, pure, unbridled hate, but directed at who or what Edmund could not tell. The Witch? Himself? Me?
"I'm sorry," the words were terribly insufficient to express the flood of grief and guilt Edmund felt and he knew it. Orieus was gone; Orieus who had rescued him from the Witch's camp all those long years ago and carried him safely to his family. Orieus who took two clumsy, foolhardy boys and molded them into kings and warrior. Orieus who died as he had lived. to protect his kings; to the death. There were no words adequate to express the loss of such a noble and brave friend.
Peter shook his head and sank into the chair beside Edmund's bed. "This should never have happened. I should have acted more rationally; I should have known it was folly to take such a small force with me against the Witch. And you," he turned to Edmund then, his eyes burning with grief and anger. "You should never have come after me. You should never have made such a bargain with the Witch for my life." You should never have become a traitor. The words were unspoken, but they were there in the air. "You told me that you saved me because you were selfish; you must learn to think of Narnia first and foremost."
Peter; no, Aslan, you can't mean Peter. But Edmund knew; it was Peter he feared. He feared Peter's judgement of his failings, feared the loss of his love and trust, and above all he had feared that one day he would see in Peter's eyes were he now saw there; blame.
Then Peter smiled. "Sorry Ed, I know you did what you thought best for Narnia and for me. It is more to my blame than yours. Get some sleep, we'll talk more tomorrow." He blew out the candle and Edmund heard his footsteps fade before he released the breath he had been holding. The library; the book. He knew now what Aslan had told him he must and it was time to trust in Him.
He stood unsteady and relit the candle with shaking hands, silently thanking Susan for arranging that his rooms be so near the library. He doubted he could remain on his feet long enough to reach it otherwise.
The hallways were empty, which seemed strange; there were always guards, but now the Cair seemed deserted. Edmund was grateful for it; guards would have tried to send him back to bed, would have woken his sisters or summoned Peter and when he stumbled, which was often, he was glad no one was there to see it.
The library too was deserted and Edmund sank gratefully into the nearest chair, resting for a moment before beginning his search. Aslan had given him no clue as to the book's location and the library consisted of three joined rooms, lined with floor to ceiling with shelves of books. It seemed an impossible task. Aslan, help me, please. He looked down at the desk next to his chair and saw a small, black book, whose cover was completely blank. When he opened it the pages too were unmarked and he breathed a prayer of thanks to Aslan.
A fire was burning slowly to ashes in the fireplace and he uncovered the bed of glowing coals and laid the book among them. Slowly, as the heat spread through the book a title appeared, etched in gold. Edmund picked it up cautiously, but found the book as cool as if it had never been near the fire.
King's Bane, the title on the cover read and when he opened it again the pages were lined with a closely written, fine script. He drew his chair nearer the fireplace, lit another candle, and then began to read.
The first pages told the story of a king, who had lived long before the time of the Witch and her Hundred Year Winter. While exploring the mountains, near Stormness Head and the pass to Anvard, he and his courtiers had vanished with no trace. Riding out after him his son too disappeared from the land. The son returned some days later, exceedingly weak from hunger and cold, and raving about a strange herb which destroyed those things which all men fear.
A great troupe rode out to discover the source of their prince's raving, and found to their horror the body of their king, dead in the snow. One of their number, a faun by the name of Creon, a great physician and learned in the arts of magic, discovered the hidden entrance to a cave. Within the cave he found the roots of great trees, though they grew where no trees stood upon the surface, and from the roots came twisted vines, which sought to entrap him.
Creon drew his sword and tried to cut the vines from about his legs, but found that the steel did them no harm. He fell into a deep sleep and his dreams were filled with terror. He saw before him the dragon who had slain his father and the beast, brought back to life by his terror threatened death to all who he loved. But Creon was not of noble blood and, power hungry as the vines were, they saw no use for him and freed him.
When he returned to the rest of the troupe they believed him not, but the face of the prince grew ashen and he told the story of his own encounter.
The book continued to describe how, upon awaking in the cave, the prince had seen his father standing before him. He feared the king his father, even as he loved him, and the king spoke to him in words which troubled the prince greatly. The vines released him and the king attacked his son with a hatred he had never before displayed. The prince, in his terror, threw his father to the floor and the king broke his neck upon the stones.
So it was, that this most evil plant set two who loved each other against each other and destroyed two kings in a single day. The courtiers called the strange vine King's Bane and avoided the pass for many years.
Creon returned to the cave however, and studied the plant through use of his magic. After many years he devised an understanding of how it chose its victims and how, if ever, one could be free of it.
King's Bane will entrap any who dare venture near its lair without care for what lies beneath the ground, but it releases all save those with noble blood or status. Of those it takes, none can escape it without causing dire harm to themselves or those they love, save if they conquer their fear, or if their fears will more easily torment them by their freedom.
The most fearsome aspect of this plant's poison is its ability to trap the unfortunate victim in a dream word from which there is no escape, save to kill the source of the fear within the dream, or if the vine chooses to release them.
Edmund rubbed his eyes wearily; there was more written but he did not have the heart to read it. He stared into the dying embers of the fire and desperately tried to understand all he had read. He was free; that meant the King's Bane deemed his fears more easily carried out in the waking world. Did that also mean the Witch was a mere illusion, conjured by his fear of her? But Peter had seen her too; unless none of it was real. Unless he was still dreaming in the cave with the King's Bane slowly draining the life from his body and driving him to madness.
If he was still dreaming then he had to kill the source of his fear. Peter. He did not think about the Witch or himself; it was Peter he worried for. If it was real, if he was awake, then he would have killed his brother.
A Lion growled. For a moment Aslan stared back at him from the fire; His eyes glowing coals. "Edmund! Trust in me; you must face your fear. Your brother also was effected by the King's Bane. If you do not defeat it then your brother too will be lost."
Edmund blinked and Aslan was gone. I have to kill Peter. But he trusted in Aslan with all his heart and that strengthened his resolve. It won't really be Peter. It's just an illusion; the things about Peter that I fear most somehow turning us against each other. That doesn't make it any easier.
Well…okay, that was long, largely explanatory and most likely unsatisfying. I know, I know, it keeps getting more confusing. Next chapter will see the two storylines tie together very nicely, we will find out once and for all what is real, and hopefully in the chapter after that there will be the beginning of a resolution. If you're still reading by the end of this chapter then I salute you for your patience! Please leave me a review, even if you hated it!
Cheers,
A
