Chapter 7: Bane

"Susan."

The words barely came out of his mouth as he registered what had just happened. Susan had screamed. She was hurt. She was defenseless.

He knew Cair Paravel like he knew his name; slowly, but steadily, he leapt on one of the familiar vine branches that entangled Cair's balconies and slid down as carefully as he could, taking little notice of the thorns that infested the vines. Palms bloody, he swiped them on the front of his tunic and saw her. On the ground. Unconscious. Dead, maybe. And not too far, perhaps a meter or two stood Cedany, eyes ablaze, expression frantic.

"Help! Somebody! Somebody – help – my King! My Just King!" she made her way to Edmund and bowed ever so dearly, shielding her teary face as she tried to splutter the words out. "My King, my King –"

"What happened?" Edmund demanded, throwing himself next to Susan's limp, defenseless body. Her skin was pale as the midnight moon and her gown was drenched with blood leaking from her abdomen, yet he saw her chest rise and fall; she was alive. Thank Aslan, she was alive.

"C-Came out of nowhere," Cedany spluttered out. "He – he came out of nowhere –"

"Who?" Edmund demanded, taking Susan's hand, eyes locked on Cedany's. "Who came out of nowhere? Who did this?"

"I don't know!" Cedany finally managed to get out. "My lady and I were simply taking a walk by her request, and a hooded man, or a creature or I don't know – he came from nowhere, my King! He came with a blade, and – and he struck my Gentle Queen!"

Edmund looked from Cedany back to Susan. No. Nobody would dare strike royalty. Nobody would dare strike Narnia's own Gentle Queen. Yet there Susan lay. Pale and unmoving, helpless and dripping in her own blood, near death for all Aslan knew. He blinked back tears. "Listen. I need you to stay here with her while I fetch Peter and Lucy." He unsheathed a dagger from his leather belt and handed it quickly to Cedany. "Defend yourself if you must. Do not let anymore harm come to my sister."

"My King, my King I can't!" Cedany pleaded.

"Just like you can't abandon your Queen," Edmund pointed out, and stood, releasing Susan's hand from his. "I will return in a trice. Do not fear. She will live. And we will find who inflicted this upon her." With one more glance at Susan and then at Cedany, he raced back into the Southern Wing's entrance, hands stinging from the climb down the vine he had made. Peter. He had to find Peter, and he had to tell him what had happened.

He burst into the ballroom, past the confused guards standing at their post ("Good evening, Just King"), panting and resting his bleeding palms on his knees to catch even a single breath. Peter and Lucy were at the front of the room, laughing with a Lord whom he did not know and taking large sips from their glistening goblets. They didn't know. They didn't know Susan had been mortally wounded and he only wished it to stay that way.

Carelessly, he raced across the ballroom and took Peter by the shoulders, earning a critical look from the Lord of whom he had just been conversing with. "Peter. Please, you have to come with me."

"My apologies, Lord Vladis, I will see to you later in the evening," Peter dismissed the Lord, who threw Peter an understanding look and disappeared into another group of chattering guests. Peter immediately turned on Edmund. "Edmund, what is it? You can't just interrupt like –"

"What's happened to your hands?" Lucy interjected, turning over Edmund's bleeding palms. "Oh, Ed."

"South Wing Courtyard. Now," Edmund panted out.

"Why?" Peter asked, his shaky voice rising. "What is it, Ed?"

"It's – It's Susan –"

"What's happened?" Peter demanded, his voice almost drowned out by the sound of his own goblet hitting the floor. "Edmund, what's happened?"

Edmund finally regained himself. "There was a blade – nothing I could do –"

And at once Peter had bolted for the exit, taking Edmund by his wrist and pushing aside the Lords and Ladies, demanding to know where Susan was. Lucy had of course followed in pursuit, midnight gown lifted unceremoniously as she ran across the halls, falling only slightly behind Peter and Edmund. Susan. He had to get to Susan.

After the very instant the three had dashed down the South Wing's staircase (nearly tripping and falling in the process) and ran across the Southern courtyard, Peter stopped in his tracks, his tawny hair a mess, his eyes ablaze and his body shaking. In a trice, he collapsed onto his knees by Susan's unmoving body and Cedany's shaking one, and shook her as much he could without inflicting any more harm. "Susan, please. Susan, wake up. Susan!"

It was no use, and Edmund fell to his knees beside Peter. Lucy still stood, hands over her mouth, face frantic with tears. "Oh, Susan."

"Lucy, go fetch the healers and the dryads," Peter said, and he slid two an arm underneath Susan's legs and the other beneath her waist, lifting her up, ensuring her still head rested comfortably against his chest. "And make sure no one discovers what has happened. Tell the guests that his High Majesty has been excused by an emergency."

Lucy stood defiant. "But Peter, I –"

"Now, Lucy, please!" Peter pleaded, gesturing to Susan's still body as evidence of his needs. Lucy nodded and ran back into the Southern entrance, her frantic sobs still audible. Peter next turned to Edmund. "What happened, Ed?"

"I don't know," Edmund said clearly, taking a step in Peter's direction to view Susan's wound, which now dripped unto the floor like wax from a candle. "I heard a scream, I climbed down from the vines, I saw Susan – and, well –"

"She lives," Cedany managed to finally blurt out through her own tears. "She lives, my Magnificent King. She lives."

Peter drew a sigh of relief, and looked upon Cedany. "And you. You did nothing to try and stop this?"

"I did e-everything I could," Cedany said, brushing bouts of tears off her face. "Truly, majesty, I did! He who inflicted such travesty upon my Queen –"

"He?" Peter said. "Who is he? Tell me who would dare think to inflict harm upon the Gentle Queen Susan. Tell me, Cedany. Now."

"Peter, she's shaken," Edmund said, turning Peter to look at him. "Do you think I would not have asked her the same question when I found Susan?"

Peter nodded and sighed another breath of relief. "Apologies, then. You should be handsomely rewarded, Cedany, for staying by her side. Many servants refuse to take even an arrow for their employers, let alone stay even for a direct, blade-inflicted attack."

"I was only doing my job, your Majesty," Cedany said almost inaudibly, glancing at Edmund as she did so. "I would do anything to protect my mistress. Anything at all."

o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o

The news of the Gentle Queen's attack had spread across Cair Paravel like wildfire. Peter ordered Oreius not to tell any of the guests, not even the Lords or Ladies, but as it was a secret, everybody had found out one way or another. And when each Lord and each Lady left Cair to return to their own households, they either threw Peter a worried look, a sorrowful look or a fault-finding look that translated only one unanswered question to him: who initiated the attack, and why in Aslan's name was it initiated?

Peter, arms shaking and expression stern, had volunteered to carry Susan's still body back into Cair and back into her own chambers. There he lay her dainty frame unto warm sheets, and her ladies maids had cleaned her wound and changed her into a fresh nightgown, succeeding it making her look as if she had been unharmed and untouched. Yet Edmund knew beneath the silky fabric lay a grave wound that, even though the bleeding had substantially stopped, was permanent.

And now Peter and Edmund and Lucy stood still be her bedside, Peter's sky blue eyes glued to the crackling fire that was shedding light on Susan's body in order for the healers to apply the last drops of medicine. Lucy was leaning on Edmund's lean arms, Susan's hand in hers, her own eyes red and puffy from crying uncontrollably previously. All three were still as statues, with the sound of the crackling fire and their own heavy breathing only occupying the room.

Until the velvet doors burst upon, and in poured Aldred's flustered and paranoid frame, cloak flying, whitened beard smeared with sweat. At the very instant that Peter rose from his seat by Susan's bed in panic, Aldred knelt on his bad knee. "My High King. My Just King and her most Valiant Majesty. I come to bear my humblest tribulations."

"Aldred. Sit, please." Peter gestured at a spare chair on the other side of the four post bed, but Aldred instead rushed to Susan's side and pressed the back of hand softly against her full cheek.

"So young. So untainted. Who would do such a thing?"

Lucy now buried her teary face into Edmund's side, clutching at his tunic to support her aerial body from hitting the cold marble floor.

"Susan could be the first of many," Peter added darkly, staring down at his younger sister's face as Aldred gave it one final bout of caressing. "It could be any of us next. Perhaps even me."

"You're the High King," Edmund interjected, his voice somber. "Stabbing our sister half to death was a terrible mistake, but nobody's dull enough to go out trying to take down Narnia's own."

"Even so, they would have to fight through myself," Aldred said proudly, his chin lifted higher than it had been before. "As I have said previously, your majesties. I would take even the sharpest of blades if it ensured your survival. No doubt the Queen Susan's life is worth a hundred more than that of the perpetrator."

Peter smiled from across the bed where Susan lay. "Aldred, your kind words do not go unheeded."

"I must retire for the evening," Aldred proclaimed, turning swiftly on the spot, his bright red cape dancing around him. In a sudden movement, he turned back to Peter. "Unless, of course, his majesty approves I stay and watch over the Gentle Queen until the perpetrator is found and locked away for as long as his High King pleases."

"That's quite alright, Aldred," Peter reassured, and he turned to glance at Lucy, who was still focused on Susan, and Edmund, who looked sterner than ever. "At this point, perhaps even you will need a leopard or two stationed by your dormitory."

"And my the windows," squeaked Lucy, speaking for the first time in hours since the ordeal. "They could climb into the windows, you know. Who we might be talking about may not even be human."

Edmund tilted his head at the thought, and brushed a golden strand of hair from Lucy's teary face. "Aslan help us."

"Aslan help us indeed," sighed Aldred. "I bid your majesties good night; may Aslan bless you upon your sleep, especially her Gentle Highness. Sleep well, majesties. Sleep well." With a final courteous bow, Aldred disappeared behind the velvet doors to Susan's chambers. In a trice, they were closed by the Satyrs stationed nearby, who Edmund could here bidding not only good night, but good luck.

Once Aldred was out of view, Peter bolted upright and pace before steadying himself. "I'll find him. Whoever did this. And kill him with my bare hands, I will. So that everybody like him will think twice before ever coming near Susan again."

"You'll do nothing. Not yet," Edmund snapped. When Peter glared down at him, he heaved a sigh. "Listen, Peter. I'm angry too. But right now anger will do nothing. If anything, it will tear us apart. We need to be here for Susan. Only can we find this monster and destroy him and everything he stands for. Just be happy Susan's alive."

As if almost on cue, Lucy gasped a terrible gasp, earning quick stares from Peter and Edmund. "H-h-her skin!" Lucy wailed, pointed a trembling finger at Susan's body while her face buried even deeper and deeper into Edmund's shoulder.

Almost immediately, Peter darted for Susan and slid a tender hand under her arm, turning it over only for him and Edmund to gasp almost as terribly as Lucy had.

For blue veins stood apparent and visible against Susan's pale skin.

So why are Susan's veins blue? And who attacked her? Chapter 8 soon! And a little belated, but Happy New Year!

xx Izzy