Chapter 13


Lucy's face was grim as she surveyed the gathered war council from her seat on the Stone Table. That, in itself, showed the bad start to this council; Lucy would not have dared to sit on that sacred place, but for the fact that Peter seemed about ready to spread battle plans on it. The Stone Table was not a pile of rocks to plan a war on! So Lucy had leapt to her current place, hoping that her movement would remind Peter of who was really the True King of Narnia. It didn't seem to.

As the preliminary small discussion began, Lucy sighed. The warning from the guard that the How had been discovered by the Telmarines had spurred the whole encampment into a flurry of confused action. Then Peter had called this war council, before even having his usual pre-council planning session with Edmund and Lucy. So now they were going into council with little idea of what option was going to be presented.

All in all, it was not an auspicious start.

At least, thought Lucy, Edmund insisted on a double-voice approach. It had been the source of another low, terse argument between the brothers. Peter had assumed they would use the usual one-voice approach – where Peter introduced the plan and Edmund backed him with his mostly unspoken agreement – but this idea was quashed by Edmund when he pulled his older brother aside. Only Lucy had heard Edmund's fierce insistence that he would speak for himself in council, since Peter had not seen fit to discuss the plan he was supposed to agree to. Not to mention that Edmund had a better idea of the capabilities of their forces.

Now Edmund stood near Peter, Caspian by his side. Susan sat on a rock opposite them, her eyes passing between the blond and dark-haired kings, her forehead creased. Peter, though, did not seem to notice the tension, or at least seemed not to care…not when he was bursting with his brilliant plan.

"It's only a matter of time. Miraz's men and war-machines are on their way." Peter's smug, proud expression looked so wrong to Lucy, especially when compared to the face of the High King she remembered. "That means those same men aren't protecting his castle."

The Chief Mouse, Reepicheep, asked what Peter proposed to do. Lucy shut her eyes when both Peter and Caspian began replying to the Mouse's address to 'Sire'. She opened her eyes to see the two flaring at each other, neither backing down.

Which left Edmund room to jump in. "Unless I miss my guess, I'm thinking you mean to make a surprise attack on the Beaversdam Castle." Lucy could see Edmund musing over the plan in his head. He had always been good at strategy, and Lucy knew he was quickly going through the strengths and weaknesses of such a plan.

Peter gave Edmund a wary smile, their previous argument perhaps still fresh in his mind. "Exactly. You've done well with sneak attacks so far. It's time to go straight for an end game."

Caspian did not seem so enthused. "That is crazy. No one has ever taken that castle."

Peter gave him a patronizing smirk. "There's always a first time."

While Caspian glared, Trumpkin gave his approval. "It could work. We'll have the element of surprise."

Caspian shook his head. "But we have the advantage here. We can make them attack us, on our own ground."

"If we dig in," spoke Susan cautiously, "we could probably hold them off indefinitely." Lucy was not surprised to hear Susan agree with Caspian. If they could withhold a siege instead of a direct war, the Gentle Queen would prefer that option.

Peter's eyes went hard, though, and Lucy watched as he turned to take his anger at this defection out on Caspian. Lucy breathed a sigh of relief when Edmund stepped forward, between the two older kings, and gave his own opinion. "Both options have their merits. We know this land better than the Telmarines, giving us the advantage." Caspian's pleased smirk did not last long. "However, I don't think we can win a siege. The How was not built as a fortress, but as a place of reverence. I don't think it could withstand heavy bombardment very long. And it would be too easy for Miraz to starve us out." Edmund looked at Peter. "Caspian and I know that castle well. With the right plan, we could pull off an infiltration offensive."

This time, Peter's smile was more genuine as he turned to Glenstorm. "If I can get the troops in, can you handle the guards?"

Glenstorm flicked his eyes over to Caspian, who seemed to be holding his own silent conversation with Edmund. Though obviously reluctant, Lucy watched as Caspian gave his nod of consent to the centaur. Glenstorm turned back to an expectant Peter. "Or die trying, my liege."

Peter's triumphant smile chilled Lucy's heart and she knew she had to speak. "That's what I'm worried about." Peter looked at her, confused, and asked what she meant. "Well, you're acting like there are only two options: dying here, or dying there." She needed Peter to understand! However good the plan was, it was no end game without Aslan's blessing. They really would die trying!

"I'm not sure you've really been listening, Lu."

That was annoying. How many times had she been to, and spoken in, war councils? Still, it wasn't time for her to make that point. She had a more important one to make. "No, you're not listening. Or have you forgotten who really defeated the White Witch, Peter."

She watched as Peter stiffened, and her heart sank. "I think we've waited for Aslan long enough," he snapped angrily before stalking away, proud head high.

The council was quiet, with several of the more devout Narnians – including Lucy and Edmund – wide-eyed with shock. Luckily, Edmund was able to speak up and salvage the situation. The young king moved to the middle of the room, standing near his younger sister. "We have fought many battles without Aslan physically present. But as my royal sister reminds us, we have never entered battle without seeking his blessing. We will have a solid plan by tonight, one that we trust to succeed. Lion willing, we will prevail in this battle, and in this war."

~*~

Edmund considered it a testament to the patience he had learned when ruling Narnia that he was able to speak calmly to Peter as they sat in a small room, planning the attack. Caspian had excused himself quickly, still unhappy about the plan and Edmund's approval of it. Susan had followed: she told them she would be fighting instead of Lucy (who would lead the Narnians remaining at the How) but Susan always preferred being told what to do instead of dwelling on the details. Lucy, Edmund knew, had remained in the Stone Table room, heart hurting too much to help them.

Which left Edmund to plan out the attack with Peter alone, his own heart still hurting at Peter's public repudiation of Aslan. He kept his emotions in check, as always, and he and his brother flung ideas back and forth. Edmund almost allowed himself to pretend that all was as it had been before: two brother-generals planning a great victory.

In fact, the plan was actually quite a good one. The griffins would fly in a small strike force, guided in by Susan who would be deposited by a griffin on the forward tower with Edmund's torch. Peter had wanted Edmund in the tower, as the first in the castle, but Edmund reasoned that they needed him in the castle proper since he knew the layout; besides, Susan could do more with her bow from a height.

The rest of the strike force – Peter, Edmund, Caspian, and Trumpkin – would split up, with the latter two meeting with Reepicheep and his Mice to open the gate for the waiting Narnian army. While the Narnians came through the city and into the castle, Peter and Edmund would sneak into the royal chamber and capture Miraz. It would require precision in timing and execution, but was feasible.

But for one thing. Edmund gently grabbed Peter's arm as he was about to leave and deliver the finished plan. "Peter, if this doesn't go off exactly right, it won't work."

Peter furrowed his brown. "And?"

"And," emphasized Edmund, "if something goes wrong, anything at all, we need to call a retreat."

Peter frowned. "Nothing is going to go wrong."

"It will if we don't depend on Aslan." Again, the pained frown on Peter's face. Edmund bit the inside of his lip before sighing. "Peter, I trust you, I always have. And I trust you now that you will lead this battle well." While Edmund might have his own misgivings, might be worried about Peter's lack of faith, he could not believe that Peter was so far gone that he could not lead as he always had.

And in Edmund's firm declaration, a little bit of the High King returned to Peter's eyes. "Thanks, Ed," he replied softly and, for a moment, things were as they should be.

~*~

Evening was falling the next day as the strike force made their final preparations. While a current of tense excitement rolled through the How, Edmund felt only helpless frustration. As had been his custom during his rule, and in the time since his return, Edmund had wished to gather with his fellow monarchs to pray for Aslan's blessing in battle. Unlike his previous experiences, though, this time he had no success in gaining support.

Peter, as Edmund mostly expected, had not dignified his request with an answer, just a look that told Edmund all he need to know. Susan had pursed her lips, and Edmund could practically see her inward struggle. He knew he had lost when one of the fauns came up and asked for Susan's advice on one thing or another. With a relieved apology to her brother, Susan disappeared into the gathering force.

Most disappointing was Caspian's response. Edmund knew Caspian had never been very comfortable when they had prayed before previous missions. Edmund had hoped that Caspian would grow to see its importance, that the young man would pray from faith instead of from obedience to the practices of his friend. Now, though, it seemed Caspian felt that showing his presence to the Narnians, competing with Peter for attention, was more important. As Edmund watched Caspian walk away, he saw a month of teaching and four months of friendship and trust begin to disintegrate.

So it was that Edmund stood in the Stone Table room, empty of life except for himself and Lucy. The young queen took his hand as they stood before the Table. For a moment neither spoke. Then came Lucy's soft voice. "Don't go, Edmund."

He looked down at her in surprise. "Lu?"

Lucy's eyes were filled with worry. "You expect this to go badly, don't you? That's why you told me after council that you didn't want me coming with you."

Edmund looked away, unable to face the truth in her gaze. "Expect, no. It's a strategically good plan. But if it does go wrong…" he looked at her again, his face grave. "Lucy, you're the strongest of us. If, Aslan forbid, we don't make it back, you're the best choice to lead the remaining Narnians."

He watched Lucy choke back a sob at the thought of her siblings not returning. "Don't go, Edmund," she repeated, voice wavering. "Stay here with me."

"Lucy…"

She shook her head fiercely to cut him off, eyes blinking back tears. "I…I don't think Aslan will bless this mission. Not when Peter and Susan and Caspian refuse to trust him. They won't heed his guidance, which can never end well. Please, Ed, don't go along with this!"

Edmund felt his heart constrict at his little sister's plea. He always tried to trust her insight when it came to Aslan. In this, though… "I'm sorry, Lu." Oh, how he hated when her face crumbled like that! "You know I have to follow Peter; I can't betray him by leaving his side, especially if you're right about his vulnerability apart from Aslan's blessing." His reassuring smile didn't seem to help. "Besides, we can pray that my faith in Aslan, and that of the Narnians, will be enough. I trust Aslan to guide me; and I can rein in the others."

Though Lucy did not seem quite so convinced, she gave him an accepting nod, and a hug for good measure. Then, in silent agreement, they both turned to face the Stone Table and the carving of Aslan, and knelt.

Lost in the records of Narnia is that each King and Queen of Old had their own particular way of kneeling in prayer and obedience to Aslan. Peter went to one knee, forehead pressed against the pommel of his drawn sword. Proper Susan always knelt on both knees, body held straight. She would press her palms together, fingers pointing down as she bowed her head in reverence.

Lucy was never so formal. Though she too knelt on both knees, she would sit back on her heels, clasping her hands in her lap. Most peculiarly, Lucy would close her eyes, like the others, but would tilt her head upward and to the side. She once told her siblings that she did so because she could never make herself picture Aslan as below her so that she would have to look down to see him. He was always before and above her.

Edmund never told anyone why he prayed and knelt as he did, though most guessed. Like Peter, he knelt on one knee. He never held a drawn sword, though. His arms he kept hanging at his side, his left hand grasping the pommel of his sheathed sword, if it was there, to show that it could not be drawn. Unlike Lucy, Edmund always bowed. Not just his head, but the entire top of his body leaned forward, clearly exposing the back of his neck. The posture seemed odd to any who had not been at Cair Paravel the second year of the reign of the Four Sovereigns. It had been the only time the Four had been forced to execute a Narnian – in this case, a human originally from the Lone Islands – for treason. The man had knelt in such a way before the executioner as he waited for the strike of the axe; from that time on, Edmund held firm to the way he knelt before Aslan.

And so he knelt now, Lucy beside him, as he prayed aloud. "Aslan, bless this mission we now embark on. Guide our blades in defense of our people and land. Stay our hands from unjust vengeance. Protect our life and those of our family and people. Return us all in safety. We pray you give us wisdom and clarity of mind; guide our actions. May all honor and glory be given only to thee. Let it be so."

At his end, Lucy gave her own, simple prayer. "Aslan, please protect all who leave, and bring them safely home. I ask no more than this. Let it be so."

Prayer finished, the two siblings solemnly rose. With one last hug, Edmund whispered a hoarse good-bye to his sister, who could not speak through the lump in her throat. Instead, Lucy watched as her brother left the room, leaving her alone with her silent plea:

Please, come home.

.

If you're wondering about the different genuflections, take a look at the scene where Peter, Susan, Edmund, and Caspian kneel before Aslan at the Ford of Beruna (particularly the back view for Edmund). That's where I took the images from, except for Lucy.