Only one midterm left! Hurrah! Thank you for your lovely reviews; I always find them immensely inspiring! We are getting to the main plot of the story now! Finally; whew, this story is already almost half as long as my previous multi chapter stories and it is maybe only a quarter done! Still don't own anything except my computer and my books. Sadness.

Peter and Edmund soon developed a sort of system for keeping watch that allowed them to both get a fair amount of sleep. Edmund agreed to sleep for the first half of the night while Peter kept watch and Peter agreed to sleep for the second with Edmund keeping watch. When Peter inevitably woke in the hour before dawn, called by the strange music and in danger of wandering to his death, Edmund would either try to startle him back into full awareness or, and this was more common, would follow him out onto the moors, alert for any danger and hoping to some morning discover what it was that called to Peter so irresistibly.

With Edmund following him Peter would wander aimlessly for a time before inevitably waking to remember nothing of how he came to be there or where he was going. Once, nearly a week into this strange pattern, Edmund though he saw a flash of green, like the swirl of a cloak or dress, upon the moor, but when he went to investigate he found nothing save a small, green snake. It looked up at him with jewel bright eyes and hissed, but it did not seem dangerous so he left it alone and returned to find Peter awake and bewildered.

Despite the nightly disturbances, the small company made good time on their journey and not two weeks after their departure from Cair Paravel they found themselves upon a hill overlooking a very different country. The high moors had given way to low, rocky hills which climbed steadily to dark, jagged mountains and stony gorges through which rivers thundered. It was a harsh, grim place, and no one particularly wanted to descend the hill into it, but now that they were there they had little choice.

Lucy smiled and pointed across the rugged landscape. "Look! I think we can see the spires and towers of the city from here!" They could indeed. Far across the dim expanse before them, right at the foot of a towering mountain, they could see jagged shapes, which at first appeared like smaller crags, but upon closer inspection revealed themselves to be the towers, spires, castles, and other great buildings of an enormous city. "At least we can see it now." Lucy offered, attempting to cheer the group.

Edmund said what they were all really thinking. "It's still a terribly long way off, I wouldn't count on us getting there anytime soon."

Peter glanced over sharply at him, worried by his tone but Edmund just shrugged as if to say; "What? It's true."

As it turned out he was right; they traveled on for days and scarcely seemed to draw any closer to the distant spires, though they did begin to meet other travelers, mainly giants, upon the road. As Edmund had predicted these were a very different sort from those of the lower Ettinsmoor. These giants were taller, though their footsteps were almost silent in comparison with their size, and their bearings, faces, and manners of expression were very like those humans. Many smiled and called out greetings as they passed, others laughed, as if at some merry jest, when they saw the group of Narnians, and still others, though these were fewer in number watched them silently with grim and forbidding faces.

All the giants they met seemed to have one thing in common; they were all positively charmed by Lucy. She smiled and called a cheerful greeting to everyone they met, and was always willing to strike up conversation if a giant slowed their steps long enough to speak with the party. She laughed at their jokes, some of which the Narnians found rather odd, listened attentively to their advice, and behaved in such a queenly manner that even Susan could have found no fault with her. Even the silent, grim-faced giants' expressions lightened when they saw Lucy and a few even smiled or bowed, though they remained far graver than the others.

Metelus explained one night that the grim-faced giants were those of noble birth, or at the very least higher class, than their merry counterparts. Those giants were likely the sort they would encounter most of at Harfang and everyone found themselves feeling very grateful that even these did not seem immune to the effect Lucy had on everyone.

Edmund and Metelus were the only ones who seemed to notice anything amiss in the giants' behaviour. On the fourth day after leaving the moors Edmund was walking, allowing Phillip to rest, next to old faun, near the back of the group, when he overheard a very odd thing. The group of giants Lucy had just been talking and laughing with began to cry. At first it seemed they were merely sad at losing Lucy's company as the party traveled onward, but then Edmund overheard a rather loud exchange between two of the ladies.

"It simply isn't fair!" The first was saying as she mopped her eyes with an enormous lacy handkerchief, nearly big enough to be a coverlet.

"Wasn't she simply lovely?" Responded her companion, blowing her nose loudly. "It's such a pity they have to go to the city!"

"Hush!" The first one warned. "If they hear us and suspect the King will have our heads faster than you can blink!" They peered down at the ground, obviously looking to see if they had been overheard and Edmund quickly ducked his head and pretended to be deep in conversation with Metelus. His tutor's face had gone ashen white and Edmund knew the faun had overheard the same thing he had.

"What do you think it means?" He asked quietly, though the giants had little chance of hearing their conversation.

Metelus shook his greying head thoughtfully. "I don't know, your majesty, perhaps we should tell the High King?"

Edmund considered for a moment. When they left the moors Peter's nightly wanderings had all but ceased, and the guards remained wakeful even in the hour before dawn, but he still had a strange, haunted look in his eyes, as if his dreams were disturbed. "No, we needn't worry him over something which is likely a misunderstanding on our part. You and I must be on our guard and warn the guards to double their watches. If anything else is said to give us cause for concern that will be the time to speak with the High King."

Metelus dipped his head in acknowledgement. "My King, forgive me if I speak too boldly, but both you and the High King your brother have seemed troubled of late. Please it your majesty to tell me what ails you?"

Edmund was silent for a moment, considering his words carefully. "I would have sought your council of my own accord many days since, had not my brother bound me to secrecy, save if any should notice his behaviour and question it. I must now entreat you to be bound by that same secrecy, for if what I now tell you were to become known it would doubtless cause many to panic. None save myself and Trebonius are aware of the details." Edmund found that he was glad Phillip had wandered out of earshot and was in deep conversation with a pair of Hounds. The Horse was unquestionably loyal but he was rather prone to gossip as well, and Edmund grimaced at the thought of every Dog in the pack baying about their sleepwalking king.

Metelus nodded his agreement solemnly and so Edmund recounted the events of the past weeks, including the details regarding the music Trebonius had heard and the inexplicable manner in which the guards fell into a deep sleep. Metelus listened gravely, asking questions occasionally and finally he sighed, rubbed a hand across his face in distress and began to speak.

"My king, you have not heard this music nor been effected by the same sleep that falls upon the rest of the camp?" Edmund shook his head. "And did you not say you suspected the Green Lady we met upon the moors of being a Witch or Enchantress of some form?"

Edmund nodded again, "But I have no proof, just a terribly sick feeling in the pit of my stomach when I think of her. Peter didn't believe me when I warned him about her." He tried to keep the hint of bitterness from his voice but knew Metelus heard it anyway.

"Then is it not possible your royal brother is enchanted by some foul witchcraft of hers? I have often heard of witches who laid similar enchantments, meant to drive their victims mad, or lead them to their deaths by walking off the edge of a cliff. Forgive me," he added when he saw Edmund's expression. "I do not mean to say that is what has happened, merely that such things have been heard of."

"I wondered the same thing, but he never seems to be in any danger. He wakes to remember nothing of either the music or of wandering from camp, but there is a strange look in his eyes, as if each time he wanders from camp his spirit wanders farther from him." Edmund scowled at his brother's distant figure, riding tall and proud at the front of the group. "He denies noticing any change in his behaviour, but Lucy and I have both noticed him drawing away."

Metelus was silent, studying the gigantic slabs of stone they walked upon. When he spoke at last his tone was reluctant, almost frightened. "Your majesty, if I may be so bold, your brother has the same look in his eyes that I saw in the eyes of those enchanted by the White Witch in the years of reign. It is the look of someone whose will is no longer entirely their own. It may be true that he himself has not yet noticed the change, but is it continues soon it will be plain to all. And, if your majesty will once more pardon me, this too offers an explanation for why you remain unaffected. You have already been under the enchantment of the White Witch and cannot be enchanted by another."

Edmund shivered, suddenly chilled to his very bones. He scowled, silently cursing his reaction. Will I always react so at the mention of the Witch? A king should be stronger than this! "What should we do? Surely there must be some way to help him; to break this enchantment."

"I do not know, my king. I will look to my books and give the matter what consideration I may. If the High King has nearly ceased his wanderings it is possible the enchantment is weakened, either by distance or by some other consideration we do not know of, regardless, this gives us some time to find a solution."

Edmund nodded wearily and wished there was a more immediate solution. Lion's Mane Peter, why could you not have listened to me in the first place? Of all of us I'm most likely to know a Witch when I see one.

The next day, very late in the afternoon, they came to the foot of a great hill the top of which was flattened and fully ten times the size of Cair Paravel, and upon the hill stood the giant's city of Harfang. The road ran steeply upwards, winding its way around the hill until, at the top, it came to an enormous pair of heavy, brass gates.

The Narnians paused at the foot of the hill and stared upwards in open mouthed wonder. Edmund looked at the gates with a sinking heart, thinking as he did so that once they were inside, and the gates were closed after them, there would be no easy escape from the city. The gates were far too large and far too heavy for anyone save a giant to open, in fact, Edmund greatly doubted that even the Narnian giants, none of which had accompanied them, would be able to open them, for the giants of Harfang were far larger than those of Narnia.

Peter looked over and smiled, the haunted look in his eyes scarcely noticeable. "Well Ed, here we are, do you think there's any chance we've come to the wrong giant's city?"

Edmund snorted in response. "If only we should be so lucky. What do you think of those gates, Peter?"

The High King's expression darkened. "The city is rather highly fortified for peaceful giants, and the gates are rather impossible to manage if for anyone shorter than thirty feet. But, I suppose there's nothing for it; we can't exactly turn back now. Let's just hope they don't eat Narnians for breakfast!" He laughed at Edmund's expression and called for the company to move forward. For better or worse they would reach the city by nightfall.

Edmund turned to Metelus with a rather startled expression. "Do giants eat other Creatures?"

The faun looked rather pale despite his naturally ruddy complexion. "I have read accounts of the Ettins hunting and eating Talking Animals or dwarves for sport. I don't know about these giants; one might hope they are rather more civilised." But it was a sobering thought none the less.

Peter really should listen to Edmund! At least things seem to be getting better for him, at least for the moment, though I'm sure we all know what they say about frying pans and fires! Anyway, a note about the geography of Ettinsmoor and the Wild Northern Lands (where the Giants' City called Harfang is located). I know in the Silver Chair the bridge they cross is after the border between Ettinsmoor and the Wild Lands. My reasoning in placing it before is that over the fourteen hundred, approximately, years between my story and the Silver Chair the land has changed drastically. At the time of my story the moors extend further than in the Silver Chair and over time the higher moors become more rugged and until they become part of the Wild Lands. I'm also calling the Ruined City Harfang since it stands to reason that the Castle of Harfang is named after the ancient city. Anyway, let me know what you think by leaving a review! You are all wonderful for reading and sharing your thoughts; thank you!

Cheers,

A