Disclaimer: I do not own the Chronicles of Narnia. C. S. Lewis does.
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Edmund Pevensie was in trouble.
No.
Cross that.
He was in a hell lot of trouble. Even as he galloped down the shadowy forest with the howling wind and shrilly crying horse buffeted him from side to side as he desperately tried to maintain his balance he knew he was doomed.
His mount neighed violently as the exquisitely carved branches clawed wildly at its long face. He tried to calm the horse down, murmuring soft words under his breath as they bolted through the thick, abundant forests covering the perimeter of the Western March. His light coffee coloured hair matted to his face, his eyes hard and glazed from lack of sleep and his expression frightfully blank he made a terrifying picture.
Behind him a large entourage of riders fought their way after him, trailing him through the painting of a gazillion types of trees and exotic animals who glanced fearfully, from behind palm leaves and twirling, thin folios as the riders thundered down, destroying everything in their path.
Now Edmund was sure that Queen Swanwhite had been correct in her assumptions. The locals were indeed charm casters, magic weavers, wizards, witches whatever you wanted to assume.
And they were furious.
Not a very charming combination. Edmund observed. Aslan help me. Their wrath is worse than Susan's. At least Susan wasn't shooting bolts of fire in hopes of burning me. What do they think I am? A roast chicken?
The trees collapsed around them. The animals, mournfully glancing at their destroyed homes, ran to and fro, crying out. Edmund tried his best to avoid the fleeing animals knowing that it would spell trouble for both him and his horse but he was not very successful. His mount neighed, its eyes wild, the depth reflecting the fires that climbed their way up trees and sauntered over the ground.
Then, mercifully, it began to rain. The heavy drops gathered together at his long lashes and when he blinked it appeared as if he were weeping, the droplets weaving down his face. Slowly and gradually the rain increased its piercing intensity and thunder began to roar over the sky followed by the shrill scream of lightening that lit up the dark night with vibrant hues of white.
Edmund glanced over his shoulder. He narrowed his eyes against the stabbing rain, searching for one of the riders.
He saw nothing.
Though he was momentarily surprised, he did not rein in his horse. On the contrary he tugged more, urging the panting mount on and on under the dripping cover of rain. The rain splattered on the ground around him, the thunder and lightening crashed and clashed together even as the sound of the horse's hooves thundered across the forest floor.
Out of the corner of his eyes he saw a gaping hole that wandered on endlessly. It looked to be a vertical abyss with jagged stone making up its walls and foundations. It took his tired brain a moment to understand that what he was looking at was a cave.
He leaped down from the horse taking care to look around for the riders who were previously following him. Dragging the reins of his horse he willed himself to take one step after the other.
His raven hair was draped across his face, covering his forehead. His clothes clung to his spare, thin form and his horse's glossy mane was plastered to its heaving body. Somehow by some timely miracle, the same miracle which kept both him and Peter alive despite Susan's rants and rages he reached the opening of the cave.
Finally.
Collapsing against the parallel wall of the cave, he rested his head back, closing his eyes. He felt the horse fall down to as its legs gave way and buckled under him. Softly, gently he patted the head of the creature.
'Thank you.' He murmured. The horse managed a silent neigh in response before it folded its head amongst his legs.
He did not know how long he was sitting in the gaping cave, dark and deathly. All he knew was that by the time he opened his eyes he was much more relaxed though his muscles were cramped and his head pounded badly. He glanced around and saw that small ants were crawling up the horse.
It was not breathing.
He was dead.
Darn it! Edmund banged his head against his arms, letting out a silent moan muffled by the scarf around his throat and face.
Oh dear Aslan why? Why?
He was still contemplating on his increasingly miserable luck and misfortune when the sound of voices reached his ears. Immediately he sprang up, as lithe and silent as a panther with all the sleek locks and grace. His ears pricked up and he strained hard to hear what the voices were saying. Whoever the people were they most certainly weren't friends. Trying hard to hear what they were saying he leaned his body slightly, crouched in a predatory move. He only caught snippets of the conversation.
'….saw him enter…..'
The second voice scoffed angrily. '….can't be…..not invisible…..cave isn't…..'
Another person cleared his throat and said in rising, indignant tones: '….to members…..wizards we are…in here…..'
As the tones grew louder and louder so did the words that were exchanged. And some of them were not nice. Not nice at all.
Finally the second person who spoke gruffly with a thick accent that reminded Edmund of the tribes in the North exclaimed: 'Well I say we search this wretched piece of black hole! It's no use going out in this poring train anyway and that weedy, senseless lad can't have one anywhere!'
The leader (at least that was what Edmund assumed he was since his voice was authoritative and arrogant) shot back flatly.
'That weedy, senseless lad is King Edmund of Narnia.'
'Still we can't search for him in this storm. It's useless. So we might as well search this cave.' The third and final person said diplomatically.
Distant footsteps sounded and for one instant Edmund's heart stopped. Hastily he backed away from his position and withdrew into the shadows. They were coming. Now what would he do? His mind was racing like a badger in a cage and he prayed with all his might to Alan to save him.
Helpless and without weapons. No sword to wield, no arrow to shoot, not even a rock to throw.
'It's hopeless.' Edmund thought dejectedly. 'I'm going to die.'
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Susan Pevensie's eyes shot open and she sat up, clutching her linen bed sheets, finely embroidered, her body shivering and covered with sweat. She looked around her with wide eyes expecting to see herself trapped in some damp, dark cave with the enemies encroaching on her, nearer and nearer. Nearer and nearer.
Thud, thud. Startled she looked up, her eyes wide with fear and fright. Her fingers were numb. What was going on? She glanced outside from the huge window on her right side, covering the entire western wall of her room.
Something trickled down, weaving different patterns. Susan looked closer.
It was raining.
Raining heavily.
Thank you Aslan. Calming down slightly she leaned back against her bed to Catch her breath. In her head she was rewinding all the events that had occurred in the frightening dream that had besieged her. Slowly it came back to her. It had not been her in the cave. It had been Edmund. Edmund, her younger brother. Edmund, her dear, beloved brother.
Her fingers tightened their hold on the sheets she was holding and her knuckles turned white. Where was Edmund?
He was not at the castle.
That much she was sure. Lucy had told her that morning that Edmund had left to investigate something in the Western Woods. Despite constants protruding and questioning from Susan, she had not managed to extract any further information from Lucy.
Lucy!
Pinching her temples she mentally slapped herself. Lucy would know. After all Lucy was the one who had told her Edmund had left. Throwing the covers off she jumped out of bed and hurried out of the room. Her raven hair was messed curling around her pale, lovely face. She bolted down the hall to Lucy's room, not even bothering to throw over her silk robes. Her nightgown flapped around her legs as she unceremoniously knocked on the wide door.
'Go away!' Came Lucy's blurred voice muffled and thick from heavy sleep. Susan ignored her and continued knocking furiously. Finally the door opened and Lucy's heart shaped face, white and anxious, her eyes puffed peered in from the darkness.
'Susan, tell me, has Edmund's soul taken control over your body to go around the castle knocking at the doors at this witch hour?' She asked peevishly.
'No but Edmund's ghost may very well haunt Cair Paravel soon.' She replied, her tone detached. She glanced at Lucy, her eyes narrowed sharply and her shoulders squared.
Lucy rolled her eyes at her and glared at her elder sister still irritated at being woken up.
'You know, Susan, I think you've finally proved that you truly are Edmund Pevensie's sister. Your mind has been taken over by him as well.'
'Don't be ridiculous!' Susan snapped at her, worry and fear for her brother's safety making her tone sharper than she intended. 'Where is Edmund, by the way?'
'I told you.' Lucy replied crossly. 'I don't know. All I know is that Edmund went to the Western March.'
'Western March?' Susan's breath left her. Lucy seeing her sister's face redden with anger and fury immediately realized her slip of tongue. 'You said he was going to the Western Woods!'
'What difference is there?' Lucy asked, her voice small. Susan turned blazing eyes on her.
'What difference? What difference? Have you gone mad?' She shrieked furiously. 'There is a hell lot of difference between the Western March and Western Woods!'
Lucy stared at her sister, appalled and then, her voice incredulous, she said faintly.
'You just cursed. Susan Pevensie just cursed. Aslan help us! The world is coming to an end!'
'It's not a matter of hilarity, Lucy! Don't you get it?' Susan said. 'You lied to me about where Edmund was. And now he may very well be dead!'
'What?' All traces of sleep left Lucy's face and her face paled. 'Edmund's dead? How? Why? How do you know?'
'No he's not dead.' Susan replied dejectedly as she pushed past Lucy into her room. Slumping on the ruffled bed she rubbed her temples sighing. 'Why did Edmund go to the Western March?'
'He went to search for Vladimar. Or Vladimir' Lucy added almost as an afterthought. 'Oh this is so confusing! Edmund and I found out some information about whoever Peter fought in the North.'
Gradually Lucy told Susan about the late queen's diary where they had found out about a man called Vladimir who had hailed from some village in the North whose people were gifted. She told her about how Edmund had insisted on going there to find out more.
'But, what I don't understand is that how do you know Edmund is dying?'
'I had a dream.' Burying her face in the folds of her night gown, Susan said softly.
'Oh Susan.' Lucy perched down, compassionately hugging her sister. 'It was just a dream. Nothing real. I'm sure Edmund is fine. Dreams are just-'
'No you don't get it!' Susan said violently. 'It was not just a dream. It was…. So real. I know it was a sign from Aslan. He wanted us to know that Edmund was in trouble so that we could help him.'
Lucy stared at her sister, torn between fear for her brother and fear for her elder sister's sanity. She knew this was no joke. Susan never joked and most certainly not about matters like these when a life hung in balance. Over the years since they had been crowned Lucy had witnessed Peter, Edmund and even herself lose it completely. Never had she seen Susan lose her calm, her composed graceful tempo.
Now she was terrified.
'But Su, the Western March is a long way of. Even if Edmund is in danger we can never reach him in time.' Lucy implored settling beside her in a love seat.
'I can try.' Susan glanced at her silently. 'I can try.'
It took Lucy a moment to catch up to what Susan was saying.
'Susan you can't possibly-!'
'I can.' She said quietly and rose to her feet.
Never before had the resemblance between Susan and a tigress defending her cubs had been more striking. The old determined frown on her face was back and she strode out of the room, down the hall and into her own.
Lucy drifted after her to where she was leaning over the desk. A small blade glinted in the darkness and then it was tucked back. Grabbing the bow and arrow that were lying motionlessly in her closet she pulled a velvet cloak which wrapped around her completely, the hood falling over her face.
'Susan please, please think rationally.' Lucy could not believe it that she was saying it to Susan. Susan who was always sensible.
'I am Lucy. That's why I am going.'
'But why you? We can send a search party. We can send Orieus. Why should you go in the middle of the night?'
'Because he is my brother.' Susan said firmly.
'Can I come too?' Lucy asked, her voice pleading, her gaze softer than a spaniel's.
'No.'
The resoluteness in her voice proved that the old logical Susan was back.
'You have to stay here. In case-' Her voice wavered and then she fell silent. 'There will be no need to tell anybody where I am gone, alright? Only Mr. Tumnus and Orieus may know.'
'I-' Lucy bit her lip to keep from protesting. 'Oh alright.'
Pausing ever so slightly Susan bent over her sister and kissed her cheek.
'Be brave.'
'I will.' A small smile spread over Lucy's face which was completely wiped away. 'But Susan how will you find him? He may be anywhere.'
'I will find him, Lucy. I have faith.'
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The echo of footsteps grew louder and louder as the three grew closer. Edmund leaned back, his body pressed against the damp wall of the cave. His heart was beating so loudly, he was sure they could hear it.
I am doomed. I am doomed. He thought. Farewell cruel world.
Out of the corner of his eyes he saw the extension of the cave, going deeper into the earth. It was sort of an inner cave, a cave within a cave. He was sure it would extends further, deeper and had lots of hiding places.
The inky darkness issued out from it like a prowling beast. His gaze daring between the advancing shadows of the men and the inner cave, he cautiously took a step back, careful not to make a sound.
Suddenly he remembered how he had done this previously as well. Almost everyday. When England was being bombed by the enemy. All the old instructions came back to him. What to do if you're cornered. How to move quietly and quickly to the nearest underground tunnel. Where to hide, how to escape notice in case the enemy soldiers where after you. The training he had received at the hands of Orieus in all the sword matches, the ruthless battles he had fought against the White Witch and her remnants of her followers.
Edging against the cave wall, he almost slithered slowly towards the inner, trying to keep himself from making any noise. In the dark, his eyes glowed like a cat's and his stalk was similar to one as well.
The beam of lantern filtered forwards and Edmund froze, cursing his luck.
Now what would he do?
Whoever held the lantern, twisted it around so that the light fell directly on Edmund's face. Acting purely on instinct he dropped to the floor, crawling on all fours in a desperate bid to escape. The irregular roof provided millions of shadows to camouflage him. He looked up,.
So close. So close.
Just around the corner.
'Well, well…' The voice of the leader, cool and casual, reached him. Hardly daring to breathe Edmund paused briefly, his eyes wide. 'It looks like our friend just came through here. He sure devilled his horse.'
Relief flew through him like a large, twittering bird of hope. They hadn't found him. Still he didn't risk getting up rather opting for hastening in his crawling.
It was awkward to push himself against the floor with his cloak tangling itself around him. He was sure he felt something moving on his face, tight over his lips. A bug or an insect perhaps. He could not even use his had to swat it away for fear of making a noise to alert the wizards after him.
Hurry Edmund. You must make haste.
He knew that voice.
He had memorized its quiet, soothing tone by heart.
If he hadn't been running for his life, he would have shot up, startled. But with the key to survival being silence he stayed quiet, hardly daring to breathe.
Aslan? Is that you?
There was no noise. Nothing.
Edmund thanked his lucky stars that they were too engrossed in the horse and finding out the mystery behind his mysterious escape to notice the slight, soft sounds he made.
He was almost there. The angled, slanted inner walls were jagged and damper than the outer ones. As soon as he was sure he was out of sight, he leapt up and bolted down not waiting to find out whether they had heard him or not.
He didn't know how long he ran, how long he wove down the endless black hole. He was not sure whether he was being followed or not. The cave seemed never-ending. His muscles were throbbing, his legs were pained from running for so long. But he did not stop.
Finally his sharp warrior eyes detected the faintest traces of light. He was not sure whether it was friend or foe holding that light. He moved forwards like a predator stalking its prey.
As he neared the end, almost collapsing from fatigue and hunger he saw it was neither a friend nor a foe holding the light. It was moonlight and the occasional flash of thunder.
A storm. He shivered. Where was he?
He was still in Narnia, no doubt. The cave had been endlessly long but not so much so as to actually take him out of the country.
So then what was this place? Despite his trembling legs and the bitter cold of the howling wind outside he moved forwards. One step. Two.
The suddenly his vision blurred. Everything swam. And then he submitted without a fight to the world of utter, complete and absolute darkness with no trace of light.
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Firstly many apologies for the delay in updating. Since the last update I was stricken by a severe writer's block thus the reason for my lack of update!. Rest assured I haven't stopped writing and fully intend to complete this fanfiction! Many thanks to all who review and to those who so eagerly read the updates! You guys are the only thing that keeps me going!
Secondly this chapter was a sot of background to the last one. So don't be confused.
Thirdly please do put forth your thoughts, comments and criticisms (whichever the case). Please, please REVIEW!
A. L. Potter