Here's chapter 5! Thanks for all the support thus far!

The Water is Wide

Chapter 5

Exhausted

"…It means you may never find them."

The girl's words hung in the air, though they were thick and heavy with emotion. I could see Lucy's eyes swell with tears, but she fought to contain them for the sake of our guest.

"But it doesn't mean I am ready to concede," I said firmly. I rolled up my map and prepared to leave. "I will confer with Mr. Tumnus and the Captain. We will devise the best course of action and inform our scouts thusly. Thank you for your assistance."

I left quickly after that. I couldn't bear to look into those eyes a moment more. I couldn't bear to see the pain that so wholly consumed such clear, hazel eyes. When she looked at me, when our gazes had locked, I…I didn't want to look away. I wanted to promise her every manner of protection. I wanted to promise her every security I could afford. Mostly, I wanted to promise her the safe return of her siblings.

But I knew I couldn't; I couldn't promise her anything at the moment.

And so I left the cabin in great haste. I left with such haste that I failed to pay attention to my surroundings and I nearly ran into Mr. Tumnus.

"Ah, King Edmund, how was your meeting with your sister and the Daughter of Eve? Did it prove useful?"

"Very, my friend. Do you know where the Captain is?"

"I believe he is in his ready room."

"Excellent! Will you join us?"

"Certainly, King Edmund."

A moment later the two of us were inside the Captain's ready room, a side chamber off his cabin where we conducted most of our business. I showed them the map and we immediately began devising a strategy for rescue. After which, we sent word to our scouts of the new plan. Mr. Tumnus was optimistic of our chances. The Captain, a Galmian of few words, said little. And I remained doubtful.

It had now been over twenty-four hours since we first pulled the girl aboard, and four days since the storm had ended. We were caught in the storm for three days before it faded, but how long had it really lasted? How long had she been adrift at sea? How long had it been since her ship had gone under? How long have her siblings been afloat in a dinghy with no direction? These questions consumed my mind and fueled my doubt. With such an expanse of time and sea, what hope did we stand of finding anyone?

My doubts only grew stronger when night fell and there was still no word. Lucy had stayed in her cabin with the girl, surely trying to provide a distraction and what little comfort she could. They had called me to dine with them, but I couldn't bring myself to be near those eyes again, not when I had no news for her. The next day followed in similar fashion. By the end of the sixth day, I knew it was out of our hands now.

"Edmund? You asked to see me?" Lucy asked hesitantly as she stepped into my cabin.

"Yes, thank you for coming. Captain, Mr. Tumnus, will you excuse us please? I wish to speak with my sister and queen alone."

"Your Majesties," the Captain bowed as he and Tumnus left.

"This is bad, isn't it?" Lucy asked. "You wouldn't have sent them away if it were not."

"It has now been three days since we brought her onboard and began our search, and it has been six since we saw the storm's end. I fear there is little more we can do. We have exhausted our search. Some of the Sea Nymphs did come through for us. They found what they believe to be new wreckage, but there was no sign of children amongst the rubble."

"Well that's good, I suppose. But then where are they? They couldn't have vanished."

"I don't know, Lucy."

"I do not believe Aslan would have allowed them to die, Edmund."

"I have trouble believing it as well. I've have spoken with Him numerous times over the last three days. I have asked Him for guidance and help, and I have asked for knowledge of their whereabouts, but He will not say where they are. He only says…"

"That we must trust in Him. I know. He has said the same to me."

"Just because we cannot find them, it does not mean that they have perished. There is just as much of a chance that they were found by another vessel, just as we found her, possibly even before we found her."

"Wouldn't there be sign of another vessel then? Have you been looking for that as well?"

"I have, and we've found nothing, but that still doesn't mean it wasn't there."

"So what do we do now? Where do we go from here?"

"We have a few options. We can continue on our journey, we can return home, or we can stop by Terebinthia and see if they know anything."

"Oh I am sure they will be thrilled with a surprise visit from two of Narnia's rulers." Narnia and Terebinthia were not on the best of terms at the moment.

"Then we go home?"

"And what more can we do from Narnia than what we have already done here?" Lucy asked.

"To Redhaven then?"

"Oh I don't know, Edmund. I'm just as torn as you."

"Still, I will follow your advice on this, Lucy. You have become a friend to her."

"As much of a friend as I can be; I don't even know her name." Lucy paused for a moment as she fought against her own emotions. I took her hand and squeezed it gently in comfort. "Redhaven has prepared a ball for us, in honor of the treaty signing, you know."

"So I was told."

"And you know Susan would be most displeased if she knew we made them cancel it, and it would do little good in our peace talks. When do you need my decision?"

"Now. If there is to be any chance of us reaching the Seven Isles on schedule, we must resume our course tonight."

"Give me a moment then," Lucy said with a sigh. Then she bowed her head and closed her eyes; she was consulting with the Great Lion. I sat beside her and waited patiently. It was several moments before she opened her eyes again, and they were moist with tears.

"What has He told you?"

"I don't like it much, Edmund, but I cannot argue with Him on it," she replied, shaking her head. "We send word of the incident to the Terebinthian King, the Duke of Galma, and the Governor of the Lone Islands. We ask them to send word if they hear of anything. And we write to Peter; we tell him everything, every detail, everywhere the scouts have searched. Then we sail on to Redhaven."

"I will inform the Captain of our decision and we will depart promptly. Then I will inform the girl. And, Lucy, I want you there when I tell her."

"There is nowhere else I could be, Edmund. I fear for what this will do to her. She is my age, Edmund; she is seventeen, and she has just lost everything she holds dear."

"…We have exhausted our search…"

"…little else we can do…"

"…likely picked up by a passing vessel, just as you were…"

"…I am sorry…"

His words hung in the air and rang in my ears. I nodded slowly. "I…I understand. Please, I…I wish to be alone now."

Edmund turned to his sister and said something my ears could hear but my mind could not decipher; it churned too violently with my own thoughts. Then they were gone, and I was alone.

Though, not really alone. I had my thoughts to occupy me.

So this is how it ends? After three days of searching the wide sea the searching ends, and my siblings—Heulyn, Emmalynn, Ellalynn, and Soffialynn—are given up for lost. Yes, they could have been picked up by a passing vessel, but it is also possible that they were not. If they were picked up, who's to say they were found by friendly sailors? I knew of some of the practices of Calormen. If not, then that meant they were still out there, somewhere, with no shelter, with no food, and with no one to watch over them. I should have been with them. I should have stayed. I should have followed Papa's orders and not have waited. Now, because of my folly, my siblings could be in dire need of help and I was nowhere to be found.

Something wet and slimy dripped onto my hand. I realized then that I was crying viciously. I had been standing when Edmund and Lucy had told me the news. I was standing when I asked them to leave. Now, now I was curled on the bed crying. I didn't even remember moving, but apparently I had. I didn't move for sometime after that though. I remained on the bed crying until my tears ran dry. My eyes were sore and heavy, but I could not sleep. My cheeks were stiff from the path of my tears, but I could not wipe them. My mind was exhausted, but it would not rest. I thought of nothing, and I thought of everything.

I remembered the day Mama told me I would be a sister. It was after the Great Winter had ended, after the four siblings became Kings and Queens. I remembered the day Heulyn was born; it was around the time when the nights grew colder and the days shorter. I remembered the first time Mama had let me hold him, how frail and fragile he was. Subsequently I remembered the births of each of my sisters and the first time I held them. I remembered the promise I had made to Mama just before she died, and then I remembered how I had broken that promise when I fell into the sea.

The sea.

The waves lapped at the wooden side, my ears slowly detected their rhythmic pattern. Slowly, I rose to my feet and walked to the large open window that led to a small balcony. Lucy had opened it earlier in the day. She said I needed some fresh air; I had not left the cabin since my arrival. I stood on the balcony and looked out at the sea behind us. The wind whipped my hair around my face, and the skirt of my dress danced around my ankles. We were moving, sailing quickly. The wind, still and clam before, had picked up and now we were moving effortlessly through the sea.

The sea.

I looked down at the sea, and suddenly I pitied it. It was always there, always at our beck and call. We used it. We took from it. But what did we ever give to it? We cursed it when the voyage was bad, and thanked the winds when the voyage was good. How often did we thank the sea? Did it not also play a role in our safe voyage? And when she grew hungry, when she lashed out against us, we fought her with everything we had, and often times we won. She was quite hungry a few days ago. Perhaps she had acquired some sustenance, but she was denied some also. I fought against her. I won. But what had I really won? Why did I fight so hard? It was only instinct.

I didn't feel like fighting anymore; it was exhausting. I was exhausted. The sea could give me peace. The sea could carry me home.