Daring to Dream
Chapter Fifteen
Getting to the Heart of the Matter
Even in the depths of winter, Queen Susan of Narnia slept with the windows open.
Her favourite sound had always been the waves crashing upon the rocks, far below Cair Paravel. Its music had often lulled her to sleep, during both calms and storms. It was one of the things she missed the most in Tashbaan.
The prince and his people had been very kind. No expense had been spared in the setting up of their home and she had every luxury that heart could desire. But the metallic tinkling of the fountain beneath her window was nothing compared to the never-ending breathing of the Eastern Ocean's great waves.
She had even mentioned it to the prince and he had had a pretty little caged bird brought in to please her. The dear little creature sung merrily all day for Susan. But she found herself more heart broken by it captivity than comforted by its song.
She lay within the silken sheets of the bed, comparing this chamber to her own in Cair Paravel as she had done so many times before. It was beautifully decorated in greens and golds, bright tapestries covered the walls and ornate tiles covered the floor.
She glanced down at the panther that slumbered upon the hearthrug and smiled.
Dell, her panther guard and closest friend, had struggled with the warmer climate. Though she was not one to complain, the big cat found the sand and arid climate very irritating. There had been several muttered references to "sand in paws" and there "never being a fresh breeze".
As quietly as she could, Susan rose from the bed, endeavouring as she often did to sneak past her friend. It never worked.
She was only a few steps away from the bed when a husky voice enquired,
"Will you ever cease in your attempts to sneak past me, your highness?"
Susan turned with a smile to see one bright dark eye watching her. Dell was still in the same position but she stretched her back paws lazily, eyes never leaving Susan.
"I remember when you first tried that as a little girl. It amused me then. It seems that old habits die hard."
The dark-haired queen laughed. "Wouldn't you be shocked if I didn't persist in such tricks, Dell?" she enquired.
The panther gave a languid smile and finally stretched, rising from her bed upon the rug. "I suppose so, Susan." She approached the young woman with a smile. "Good morning my friend. I trust that you rested well?"
Susan touched the panther's head in a tender gesture that Dell tolerated from no-one else. "I did I thank you. What of you? Did the heat bother you again?"
"Fur as thick as mine was not meant for such a hot climate, but your highness' suggestion of lying by the open window certainly helped."
"I am glad." Susan's response was warm, but her eyes turned to linger upon the view with a distraction that struck Dell.
"Susan?" The queen glanced down. "Tell me what distracts you. You seem … concerned."
Susan bowed her head and did not immediately respond.
The panther waited. She knew that her queen would speak eventually, though it sometimes took a long time for her to gather her thoughts.
Eventually, she did.
"Dell, what think you of the prince?"
Dell blinked. "In what manner, your highness?"
"Do you think him a good man?"
"He is certainly very impressive."
"I know and that is what I have been puzzling over. During the past two weeks he has been attentive and charming. He and his excellent father have been very obliging, but I still do not feel as though I properly know him and that is what bothers me."
"Do you think he is hiding his true nature?"
"Not hiding exactly. But I cannot tell what his true nature is behind all the air of mystery and grandeur that they put on here. In manners and attitude, he seems to be exactly what he should be, but I've seen no burst of real feeling from him. Every speech and action seems carefully rehearsed and it bothers me."
Dell gently nudged Susan's leg with her head. "Susan, look at me."
The young queen glanced down. "My friend, no-one is forcing you to make a decision about this Rabadash today. I would suggest that you make it your task to discover his true character. Ask him probing questions that will force a true opinion and not allow a charming façade. Trust you own judgement, my queen. I can avouch for its being perfectly sound."
Susan allowed herself to laugh and knelt down to hug her friend. "Thank you Dell. I will follow your advice. I suppose the truth of getting married to a man who actually feels like a stranger frightened me."
The panther rubbed her face against Susan's cheek; a low rumble escaped from her chest. "Trust your heart, my queen. I too will watch and together we will discover the Prince's real character."
The music was infectious as she wandered through the main ballroom of the Tisroc's palace. To her left she watched the beautifully dressed couples dancing elegantly to the musicians' music.
Unable to help the memories that flooded her mind, she remembered the time when she had danced at such a gathering, her cheeks blushing with every scorching gaze she had received from her new husband. He might have been a full twenty years older than she, but he had proven to be a very loving husband. His new bride had received more affection from him in the first month of their marriage than she had experienced in all of her lonely childhood.
She found a seat to one side and watched the dancers happily, a hand resting upon her swollen belly. Harradin had been against her attending tonight's ball, but she had not wished to miss her friend.
"I'll be fine, Harradin," she had chided as they dressed. "Or I won't see Menelay until the autumn. She'll be leaving for her husband's palace before the month is out and you know that I won't be leaving our home any time soon."
"But Hezayla you will exhaust yourself."
"Not if I'm careful and I promise you I will be."
In the end he had relented, but not before he had fussed over the positioning of rugs and curtains in the litter.
"Honestly, my husband, you are worse than a nursemaid."
"I simply wish to feel assured that my wife and child are well cared for," he replied with a significant look.
Hezayla laughed. Struck anew by how privileged she was to see this tender, gentle side of her brave husband. Harradin Tarkhaan was renowned as a fearless opponent in battle and she could only imagine how his enemies must feel when facing him on the battlefield.
The evening had passed in a comfortable blur as the feast had been enjoyed and the dancing begun. Harradin had seen Hezayla comfortably installed in a chair before heading off to discuss tactics with Elgamuth Tarkhaan. She had just considered taking a turnabout the room when a familiar form had blocked her view of the dancers.
"Menelay!" she exclaimed, struggling to rise.
The older girl laughed and stayed her with a hand. "Stay where you are, my friend," she advised, taking the next seat. "I'm amazed Harradin allowed you to come tonight in your condition. How long do you have?"
Hezayla smiled. "Just under a month. When summer is at its hottest."
"I'm surprised he isn't taking you away to the Southern Mountains for your health."
"He's afraid that journey will be too much."
"But wouldn't you prefer the cool of the countryside in summer's awful heat? I'm certain that the Valley of a Thousand Perfumes would be divine at this time of year."
The younger Tarkheena smiled. "It would, but I have so little time left before the birth that there seemed to be no point."
The two young women spoke for a time before Harradin approached. He offered his wife his arm with a deep bow to Menelay.
"I apologise for stealing her away, Tarkheena Menelay but I have indulged her need for social interaction and must now insist that I be allowed to take care of her health, even if she will not."
With a laugh, the older Tarkheena curtseyed deeply. "I salute your excellent care of your young wife, my lord Harradin."
Hezayla joined in the laughter and moved to follow her husband, only to find that she could not find him. In a moment, the colours swirled around her and she found herself unable to focus upon one face of point in the ball room. "Harradin?" she called, "Menelay, where are you?"
Instinctively, her hand moved to rest upon her belly. To her horror, she found her stomach flat. "Karna?" she called, "My daughter, where are you?"
Soaked in sweat, Hezal jerked awake. She searched the confines of the room and found the concerned face of her daughter …
"Tarlana," she exclaimed, lying back down.
"Mother, are you well? You seemed to be having a nightmare." Tarlana bathed her head with a cool rag. "You mentioned Karna," she added quietly.
"I … I could not find her …" Her mother murmured.
Hezal searched the room urgently.
"They're all add work," Tarlana comforted. "Father, Kanzeesh and Andur all left over an hour ago."
"Why are you not at work, my daughter?"
The girl gently pushed her mother back down before remoistening the rag.
"Father has given me the past three days off to care for you, Mother," she replied. "I have been doing what I can, but you have been drifting in and out of consciousness. The fever broke last night."
"Three days?" Hezal struggled to sit up. "How have you been coping? How is Karna's arm?"
"She is healing well, Karlis says. Would you care for some broth?"
Hezal accepted a cup of watery soup, though she had little appetite. "I dreamt of your sister," she confided. "Before she was born."
Tarlana nodded. Her relief at her mother's waking was palpable and she busied herself with tidying the bedchamber to hide it. She had not left Hezal's side in three days and little rest and sustenance had taken their toll on her spirits. She took a long sip of water and tidied her brother's blanket, just to have something to do.
"Karlis may visit today," she said. "Karna has been going frantic from not being able to see you, but we all agreed that it was for the best."
Hezal nodded sadly. "It would do no good and only risk her life if she were to come. I suppose she took the news badly?"
Her daughter sighed. "She did. But we have even consulted with the Narnian lord and he promised to do all within his power to help us."
Her mother was suddenly solemn. "The Narnian lord knows our concerns?"
"Yes Mother."
"It would do better for him to stay far from this business. The more he is seen outside your sister's door, the more risk there is of her being discovered."
"He said as much, Mother. It was agreed that he would not return and the healer will only return if he is needed."
"Good," Hezal nodded her approval. "It is a relief to know that she is alright. I don't know what we would have done if he had not offered."
"We must praise Tash for his benevolence at this difficult time."
"Yes, we must …" she began, but could get no further as a violent cough wracked her body. Tarlana was by her side in a moment, offering a bowl.
"Mother, you mustn't exert yourself. I can take care of Father and my brothers. You must focus your energies upon getting better."
Hezal allowed Tarlana to bear away the bowl and once more wet her fevered brow. What she missed was the blood that smeared the bowl and her daughter's haunted expression.
She sank wearily on to the mattress, remembering the dream. It seemed odd to think that she had once worn the finest silks and cared about the state of her hair. If her young married self could have seen the future that lay ahead …
Annoyed at the turn of her thoughts, she chose to watch her daughter instead as she tidied the room, carrying away the bowl and running a quick broom across the floor.
"How has business been, this week?" she asked.
Tarlana continued her work as she spoke. "Well enough. Father predicts a rise in demand as Prince Rabadash's marriage to the barbarian queen approaches."
"Are they not yet betrothed?"
"Not officially. But we all expect to hear the news soon. She has now been here close to two weeks."
Hezal listened to her daughter speak about the suitability of the marriage, returning to her old topic of how no-one would ever be worthy of their noble crown prince.
At one point she nearly laughed. It was pleasant to hear Tarlana sounding more like her old self.
"Have you seen the barbarian queen, my daughter?"
"I did the day before you fell ill, Mother. It's true that she is indeed very lovely. She has curling hair as black as night, but her skin is much paler than our noble prince's. Her manner of dress is very funny as well, she only dresses in silks and satins, but her hair is never adorned with veil or head scarf. I heard Kediza remark that she had only every seen the queen wear a delicate crown upon her hair called a tiara. Hers was wrought from gold and inset with many red stones called rubies."
The conversation continued in this manner for the rest of the morning until a quiet knocking brought the entrance of Karlis. After an affectionate greeting, Hezal managed to sit up and they enjoyed a cup of tea together. Karlis had brought some special herbs from the Narnian healer and had the pleasure of seeing her mother's face regain some colour. They spoke quietly of Karna and but avoided the unspeakable topic.
It was only once Karlis had risen to leave that Hezal made herself ask. "What does Karna say of the future, my daughter?"
Karlis sighed. "Very little, Mother. We do not know what can be done. The suggestion has been made that she might travel to another city to find work as a maid or servant. But we do not know. Lord Peridan has offered his help, but what could he really do?"
Hezal patted her youngest daughter's hand. "We must trust her future to Tash and be have faith in whatever He decides, my daughters."
And with that they were forced to be content.
Lord Marken of Narnia sat staring at the piece of parchment. He had been asked to write an official letter of thanks by the king to Master Tirshan, expressing their gratitude for the excellent home he had provided them with for the duration of their stay.
This was the type of task for which Peridan was perfect. But again, he was not to be found. Instead, it was he who had been asked to write a flowery epistle to satisfy their hosts' ridiculous notions of decorum.
Marken sighed and thrust the pen aside for the moment. He rose abruptly and started pacing the length of the room.
He knew that it was not just he who had noticed the difference in Peridan's behaviour. Over the past three weeks, his friends had dramatically transformed from an experienced and learned ambassador to someone that was distracted and fixated upon his own desires.
Peridan has always been focussed upon the task at hand and had an innate ability to interact with any culture or people. He had never failed to complete his duties without complete attention and skill.
But here he was again, left in the lurch while Peridan was away on some unknown errand and undoubtedly to do with that girl.
Marken bit his lip at the ungallant thought.
It wasn't that he had any problem with Karna herself. She seemed a pleasant and nice enough girl. He also empathised with the hardships she had faced. But surely there were a hundred such stories of poverty and human cruelty in this large city? Why was it that Peridan was so fixated by this one girl?
He shook his head.
He did partly understand the attraction; Karna was a pretty girl. But what he could not fathom was how his conscientious friend could so easily abandon his duties.
Again, Marken shook his head.
In his mind he greatly feared the future that his friend faced. He believed that they would not be in this city for much longer and by the mane, what would Peridan do when they left?
With a groan, the Narnian lord forced himself to return to his chair and the odious task at hand.
Peridan returned to the Narnian delegation's house as the shadows were lengthening. He had barely had time to wash and remove his dusty tunic before there was a loud rapping upon the door.
He pulled a clean linen shirt over his head before calling, "Enter!"
He grinned at the entrance of Marken and saw his friend's now familiar world-weary expression.
"What was it today, Marken? Mistress Abilene's continued inquiries?"
Marken scowled. "No, it was a letter of gratitude to Master Tirshan about the loan of his home. Though why King Edmund did not ask Mr Tumnus to write I will never know. We all know that he has by far the most skill with a pen."
Peridan laughed as he chose between his two dress tunics.
The sudden thought of the Calormen nobility's scandal at his limited wardrobe amused him. He was sure that they would have noticed that he only had two smarter tunics for evening occasions and would have gossiped scandalously behind their perfumed and be-ringed hands about him.
He chose the blue and was just donning it when he realised that his friend was still frowning. "What is amiss, Marken?" he enquired. "I am sure the letter was a tiresome thing to write but it cannot have put you that much out of humour, surely?"
Marken sighed. "Peridan, I am concerned, my friend …"
"What about?"
Marken was silenced by the entrance of Kind Edmund stating that they were bidden to come for dinner.
Peridan bowed and turned gravely to his friend. "I can see that you are truly worried Marken and promise that we will have this conversation, but we must depart."
The other lord nodded, but determined that they would. This matter must be discussed without much further delay.
The affair that evening was a party within the Tisroc's pleasure gardens. All of the royal family were present, including the ruler himself, which meant that the ceremony continued for even longer than usual.
Peridan played his role as he always did, making polite conversation with the Princess Ritaraleen and Prince Aklamash, the Tisroc's fourth son. They were just discussing the pleasures of riding when he found himself pondering Karna's words from that morning.
Her father had actually been a Tarkhaan? That made Karna a Tarkheena, regardless of her upbringing. He was so wrapt in thought that he missed a comment from the Princess.
"I apologise your highness, I missed your last comment?"
The princess tittered prettily. "I was just remarking, my lord, that we cannot wait to hear of Queen Susan's official engagement to my brother. Aklamash has remarked that he has actually heard Rabadash pacing long into the night, it is such an amusing thought!"
Peridan felt a nervous lurch in his gut.
"Why, princess?"
"Why because Rabadash has never been so besotted by a woman before as he is with your queen! We have seen his interest rise and wane over a couple of months with other ladies, but he has driven us positively to distraction with his recounting of Queen Susan's many perfections over the winter months. And now to hear that he has actually taken to pacing to help release his excess … energy …"
Prince Ritaraleen broke into helpless giggles and Prince Aklamash made a hurried apology for his sister's behaviour.
"We mean no offence, my lord," he quickly assured him. "But our brother is desperate to claim the queen so that they may be married."
Peridan nodded, trying to turn the conversation to safer topics as he felt his anxiety growing. He knew as well as Edmund that Susan was hesitating because she was still not sure. The longer that they remained, the more awkward their situation would certainly become as their hosts grew impatient.
He was spared the effort of finding a new topic, however, as they were that moment called into dinner. Peridan bowed to both royals and offered the princess his arm as they entered the little tented pavilion that had been set up for the meal. He found, to his relief, that he was not seated near either.
It was only once the soup was being served that he realised who his eating companion was.
"Well met, my Lord Peridan."
He smiled with pleasure. "Good evening, my lady Menelay, it is a pleasure to see you again. It has been a few days."
The older Tarkheena smiled. "All of four, my lord. I am glad I made such a positive impression."
Peridan inclined his head and relaxed into a more enjoyable conversation. There was something so candid and honest about the older woman, he did not feel on edge as he so often did around the Calormen.
They spoke easily of the evening's entertainment and the previous day's boating excursion. Peridan was even so forward as to admit his sea-sickness, a thing which made the Tarkheena laugh.
"It is good to know that I am not the only person who struggles with watercraft, my lord!"
Shared anecdotes of childhood follies then followed this amusement and they were well into the fish course before Menelay's face sobered and she returned to a more solemn topic.
"I am grateful to your lordship for listening to my tale the last time we met. It is not a topic that it is considered polite to speak about. But I thought you would understand."
Peridan nodded. "I do indeed comprehend, my lady Menelay." A thought struck him. "May I ask a more sensitive question?"
"Indeed, my lord."
"What would be the fate of an illegitimate child in Calormen?"
She sighed. "It would entirely depend upon who its father was. No Tarkhaan would kill his own child, but the matter would be hushed up and the child raised as a burden. If a boy he would be sent off to the army and if a girl, she would be married off to the first groom who offered."
"What would happen to the wife of a declared traitor?"
Menelay stared at him. "A declared traitor, my lord?"
"If a man was declared a traitor to his country by the Tisroc, would his family be made to suffer?"
"Yes. His wealth and possessions would be claimed by the crown and his wife would be homeless. Probably sent back to her father's house."
They were silent for a time, both lost in their own thoughts. Peridan tried to engross himself with his meal, worrying whether he had asked too much. There had been a light of recognition in the Tarkheena's eye that had alarmed him.
It was she who broke the silence.
"If you will forgive me, Lord Peridan. It seems that your questions spring from some prior knowledge of similar events?"
Peridan swallowed. He had asked too much. Where was his usual calm, measured thought? Why had he blurted out such a question that could only raise intrigue and inquiry?
He was still mentally berating himself when she spoke again.
"I only ask, my lord, because your questions remind me greatly of events that occurred nearly twenty years ago."
"Indeed, what events are they, my Lady Menelay?"
She gave him a penetrating glance. "My only request, my lord. Is that you return my candour with equal transparency."
Peridan frowned and chose his words with care. "Madam. I have no greater wish that to speak openly with you. But please understand, there are those who might be hurt if their current situation was known. Do you give me leave to conceal sensitive information where situation requires it?"
Though clearly intrigued by his cryptic response, the Tarkheena agreed.
"Very well, my lord. Your words reminded me of a man declared a traitor twenty years ago by the Tisroc (may he live forever). His name was Tarkhaan Harradin, a captain in the Tisroc's army and a very noble man. His wife Hezayla was a childhood friend of mine and a very dear woman. He was declared a traitor after refusing to behead the Ulvarran king at the Tisroc's request (may he live forever). The Tisroc beheaded him for his disobedience in that instant and his wife was forced to return to her father's home with their young daughter. I had never heard of her since."
"They had a young daughter?" Peridan all by sputtered.
Menelay nodded, surprised by his response. "Yes, my lord. Harradin was so kind as to let his wife name their daughter after her own mother, a poor servant girl that had been seduced by her father."
"What was their baby's name?"
"Karna, my lord."
Author's note:
Duh, duh duuuuhhhh!
The link is finally out! I hinted at this about seven (?) chapters back I think! Did anyone see it coming? Peridan finally knows Menelay's connection to Karna and who can tell where this link will lead … wait and see my friends!
It's actually very exciting to get to this bit because I know my way to the end from here. It will take us a while to get there, but I know where we're going now!
The tension is building, Rabadash is working off him (ahem) energy and Susan is getting confused. Heza's health is deteriorating and we are heading towards some dramatic times people!
I am sorry this isn't up when I promised but work re-started and one bout of food poisoning later (thanks work!) we have a new chapter.
I have to admit one thing though – Dell or the idea of the Pevensies having large cat body guards is an idea I have borrowed from an old friend of mine on here. Her name is rthstewart and her wonderful fic By Royal Decree (on my favourites list) mentioned Edmund having a wonderfully sardonic tiger companion named Jalur and I wanted Susan to have one. So Dell was created. I am not trying to steal from Ruth's genius, just borrow this one idea because I wanted Susan to have someone to confide in and a hand-maid didn't work in my head. Dell is actually based on my own little panther, a very noisy teenager of a panther called Kipper who is currently curled up beside me and has a very similar habit of never missing me leaving my bed in the morning (although he inevitably announces it is time for his breakfast rather than being a listening ear).
I hope you enjoyed the different consideration of the characters' problems.
Thank you for reading and please tell me what you think. The response to the previous chapter just made my week! You were all so supportive and I became very nervous about covering more sensitive topics, so a HUGE thank you! Especially Mel, Kilgharrah, anyabar, narniac (again guest!) Zoey and Hachiko33200.
I will try to update soon and please tell me what you think in the reviews! I value every view, review, favourite and person who puts this on their watch list.
Thank you all!
Breeze.