Chapter 14: All the King's Men

It was ridiculous, he thought to himself. Expecting rain on such a devastating day instead of the blinding sun when summer was at its peak. Yet when Edmund was told the news he didn't need rain; immediately all around him was cold and the sweat that trickled down his cheek was enough to make it seem as though it were raining.

"Sir Aldred Seethwell…Knight of the Noble Order of the Table under his majesty the High King Peter the Magnificent of Narnia…Beloved by Aslan…has been found dead."

Every word had pierced him like a knife. Oreius had read the scroll before the court through, his firm voice shattering reality. Lords and Ladies alike had murmured, wept, several had even fainted and were escorted out, and Peter stood firm, tear tracks visible on his cheeks. Susan clutched a handkerchief, unable to maintain her usual poise stance, sniffing almost inaudibly every now and then. And Lucy…oh dear Lucy. When she had received the news that morning she had dropped what she was holding and crumpled unto the floor, sobbing wretched sobs. Edmund, using the last strength he had, helped her to sit down, although he had been in need of support as well.

"The cause has been determined as a homicide….an act of terror…by an assailant unknown."

The crowd murmured even more and Edmund glanced at Peter. Aldred had been sent to his death, but the question was, why was he sent?

"Under order of Peter…Most Magnificent High King of Narnia…Sir Aldred Seethwell will be honored for his life's achievements…most importantly under the name of Aslan…and will be respected as he journeys to Aslan's Country."

There was a large uproar as Oreius bowed, rolled up the scroll, glanced at all four of them and then retreated to the side of the room. And at that, Peter stood, and said, through a choked, broken voice, "The court is dismissed." Sensing the growing tension in the room, the crowd shuffled out quick as they could, leaving only the four Pevensies and Oreius in the dimly lit room.

Oreius bowed. "Am I to leave your gracious majesties to preside over the recent affairs…alone?"

"That would be most desired, Oreius, thank you," Susan said, after a long silence.

The centaur did as he was told, and in a few moments, it was only the four of them left in the room. But then a creeping silence travelled, or crawled, rather, over each of them – a silence that screamed with the desire to be broken.

Peter cleared his throat and rose from his throne, slipping his crown off as if it were any other object and running a hand through his hair. "I have been hiding from the two of you for weeks but I will hide no more." He buried his face in his hands.

Immediately Lucy bolted towards her older brother and stood on tip toe, feathering her fingers through his hair and kissing his forehead. "Speak, Peter. Just speak."

He took a step back and heaved a sigh. "We're at war with Archenland."

Lucy and Edmund both gasped, and there was another long silence, where each of their heavy breathing could be heard. Finally, Edmund spoke. "Rubbish."

"He speaks the truth, Edmund," Susan said, her voice broken as ever.

"Lune would never be at war with us!" Edmund, too, had bolted from his seat, and now he stood, his fists balled, his expression plagued with disbelief. "A miscommunication, perhaps, but war? Oh Aslan, it can't be true!"

"But it is," Lucy said, and after a few moments she spun around to meet his eyes. "Why, perhaps I'll never know, but Aslan forbid, it's true."

"You're right though, Edmund," Peter said quietly. "It was a miscommunication."

"What do you mean?" Edmund snapped.

Peter looked onto Susan, ushering her to reply. "A letter was forged. Some weeks ago. A letter from Lune that stated the Prince Corin had gone missing and that he was in Calormen."

"Oh, Corin!" Lucy cried. "But – but what does that possibly have to do with us?"

"Nothing," Peter admitted. "You know I'd never even dream of such horror, you both do. But it seems someone has."

"Who?" Edmund prodded.

"That," Peter said, and his face turned nearly as red as tunic, "is still unknown. But by Aslan's name, I swear whoever it is will be held responsible for what is lost."

"But I don't understand," Lucy said, rubbing her eyes. "What proof does this – this snake have that would make Lune believe such lies?"

"Just about everything," Susan said, her sad eyes fixed on the marble floor. "We've had problems, so many problems with Calormen, Lu. Oh so many. Whoever's done this is trying to make it seem to Lune that we'll do anything to prevent warfare. And they succeeded."

"Corin," Edmund said, piecing the last part of the puzzle. His training with Oreius. Aldred. Susan's poisoning. It all made sense. He took a few steps back and fell back into his seat, shaking his head as he did so. "But…but Lune…"

"We've tried everything," Peter said, voice firm. "Believe me when I say everything, Ed. We've tried everything to convince Lune otherwise. We even sent our best man on the job. Nothing can be negotiated. Narnia is at war."

"And we're only being told of this now." It was more of a statement than a question, and Peter met his brother's eyes.

"Yes."

Before Edmund could issue another response, Lucy's broken voice filled the room. "It doesn't matter. We could have been told yesterday or a thousand years from now. Nothing's going to stop the chaos that's going to come."

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

The following afternoon saw to Aldred's much-needed memorial. By Oreius' report, his body had been so battered that he was unrecognizable; and so he lay peacefully on a pyre carefully set in a boat, covered with cloths of fine silk. The outside of the boat was decorated with lilies as bright as the sun, woven specially by Susan and Lucy in the little minutes that they could before the service started.

They were by the sea, Peter and Edmund and Susan and Lucy and a select group of others. Per Aldred's last request should he die on his mission (Peter felt his heart fall to his stomach at this), he wanted to be remembered by the seas of the East, his ashes to be scattered across them, and Peter could see that his association with Cair Paravel was strong.

There is nothing more to be said, Peter told himself. Nothing more to be said. He's dead. Never to return. He is in Aslan's country now. Yet every time he reminded himself, he felt as though he would collapse in grief. Never to return.

Oreius stepped forward and in a few moments it was done; the flames reached high as ever, the crackling sound of fire taunting him. And soon, the boat was pushed away, into the sunset, to return only as dust. Edmund stood next to him, his hand carefully placed on his shoulder, and Peter gripped it the minute he felt the flesh graze his tunic. He looked back. Susan and Lucy stood too, faces pale and eyes red. Even Oreius, stern as he may be, had shed even a single tear.

He spoke for the first time in hours. "The Great Lion be with you, honorable Sir," he paused, took a breath, and then continued. "As you were with me."

Special Note: I'm sorry I've slowed down, but here's good news: by request, I now have a schedule for this fic: it will update every Saturday, although I'm nearly finished with Chapter 15 and expect to post it earlier this week.