Profuse apologies for how late this is, but I have been very busy. And one can only write when one has some sort inspiration. I hope it was worth the wait.

Deception

"I know God won't give me anything I can't handle.
I just wish he didn't trust me so much."
- Mother Teresa

Edmund had spoken neither loudly or forcefully but the room went silent at his unexpected announcement. Beside him he heard Myla, the kind older women gasp slightly while Shinzar was staring mouth agape.

Edmund hadn't been quite sure what to expect, though threats and general violence for his role in the latest Calormen defeat at Anvard had been on his mind but this strange mixture of anger, fear, bewilderment and faint hope that he saw was confusing.

He understood the anger, he was a king of a nation that had defeated their prince. Fear was also understandable considering that Rabadash clearly hated him and would not take kindly to anyone harboring him. Bewilderment was not unexpected, he called himself a king and yet he was wandering barefoot and wounded in the capital of his greatest enemy.

But the hope baffled him. What did they hope to gain from him? They were Calormenes and he was Narnian, he was a king and they were poor. Gold, silver, a ransom from his siblings or a reward from Rabadash?

Yet he could not see Myla turning him in or holding him to ransom so wherefore the gleam in her eyes?

They were impoverished and miserable, starved and ill-treated by their own people, he was a king in rags. If Edmund had been a cowardly man he would probably not have waited to find out and run right into the arms of the Calormen guards that were already advancing through the streets.

Edmund was neither cowardly nor rash and so he waited for what they would say.

Myla recovered first, she had no difficulty believing that her strange patient was a king, the way he carried himself even injured and fearlessness with which he had spoken his name were all testaments in themselves.

Shinzar's closed with a snap, a hungry look coming into his cold, dead eyes.

"You are King Edmund?" he asked scornfully.

Edmund caught his eye and held it.

"I am King Edmund of Narnia" he repeated softly.

"Why are you here?" It was the man whose face was clouded with anger and mercilessness.

Edmund lifted his eyes for a swift moment to the Eastern sky, or where the Eastern sky would have been had he not been enclosed by wood and stone and said,

"Your Tisroc, Rabadash asked me here to discuss a peace treaty between Narnia and Calormen."

A score of disapproving faces greeted this disclosure.

"Why would the Tisroc want peace?"

"How is it that you are here and not in the palace?"

And Shinzar's "The Tisroc (may he live forever) hates you, Edmund of Narnia. Why would he ask you here to discuss peace when he would rather see Narnia burned and you flogged to death?"

"As you can see" said Edmund wryly. "Rabadash was not interested in talking about peace but rather in your later option, so it is that I am alone and wounded here in Tashbaan. What is it that you wish of me?"

"The Tisroc (may he live forever) would pay well for you no doubt?" suggested the greedy-eyed man looking Edmund over possessively. Edmund tried not to shiver at the gleam in his eyes; here was man who would truly according to the old adage sell his mother for a piece of silver.

"No doubt" he returned quietly.

Heavy feet sounded in the street outside, an ugly tramping of iron-shod boots.

And Edmund was sure that he was lost.

Pandemonium broke out, but it was unlike any that Edmund had ever seen. He had seen troops struggling to regroup after a charge and frenzied squirrels putting out fires and Susan and Lucy when a suitor was announced but he had never see such chaos carried out in absolute silence.

Myla had a basket in her hands, sorting something. Cloth was taken out and women began sewing, men pulled out ill-smelling pipes and one was working with a piece of wood in his hand.

He did not have long to see it though before he found himself shoved roughly into a corner and a pile of old blankets covering him.

Through a break between the blankets he could see the Calormenes lining up innocently as the hard footsteps sounded closer.

"Open in the name of Rabadash Tisroc (may he live forever)!"

The door was immediately swung open and everyone bowed very low. Edmund recognized the leader, Ashkhabad one of Rabadash's most trusted favorites. Edmund knew him to be cruel, merciless and fanatically devoted to Rabadash.

He shifted under the coarse blankets, his back and sides which he had forgotten in the tension and chaos were throbbing vengefully. It was stuffy and cramped and he feared that he might pass out again.

In any case, hiding was highly distasteful to him, he met his enemies head on in clean battle or in counsel but given the circumstances he supposed it couldn't be helped.

"Have you seen a fugitive from the justice of the Tisroc (may he live forever)?"

Shinzar looked up.

"What manner of man is the fugitive?"

Ashkhabad scowled, "He is fair-haired and tall, a northern slave who has greatly displeased our lord."

And still silence hung over the room and none made any move to reveal him. If Edmund had not felt so dizzy he would have wondered that no one had yet turned him over.

The air was becoming hot and difficult to breathe but he heard Myla's motherly voice as he crumpled onto the dirt floor.

"We have seen your fugitive, he is hiding here."

And things get very interesting indeed.

Not to beg (because I hate when people do) but I know that there are at least 15 of you following this story. I spend long bits of time crafting it and writing it down so please let me know how it was, what you liked or didn't like.

Shire Rose

Character Note: Myla is greatly displeased with the abrupt shift in her character and feels that she should have been given some warning. She categorically refuses to be the cause of Edmund's untimely demise. Unfortunately I cannot inform her that Edmund will live because the white stag is still years away.