Disclaimer: I don't own Narnia or any characters you may recognize from the books or the movies, I wish I did but I don't... I also don't own the Narnian Calendar. It belongs to Elecktrum who was kind enough to let me borrow it for my story. Her own stories are awesome and you should go read them too.

Summary: When memory is veiled, can the love forged between two hearts survive?

A/N: If you have not read the first seven stories in the A Light in the Darkness main story arc (Awakened, Shadowed, Revealed, Concealed, Rekindled, Refracted, and Reflected), I highly recommend you do so for the full experience. However, I have included a quick summary of the previous stories so if you want to give this one a whirl on its own, you can.

Chapter Thirty-Three: Scrimmage

Thunder echoed overhead and the wind began to pick up speed. Mordad grinned and raised his sword high above his head. "Men! We have been displaced! We have been disowned! We have been exiled! But, today we will take what is ours! We will rule like the gods themselves! We will destroy the demons and freaks that live in this land and we will take it for our own!"

The roar from his men would have caused Tash himself to quiver. Mordad smiled, a slow vicious twist of his lips, as he entertained himself with the idea of taunting the Kings with the knowledge that he would add their sisters and the High King's consort to his royal harem. Just long enough to produce some heirs then he would have them killed...unless he decided to keep one of the Queens, the Gentle perhaps as she was lauded as the most beautiful woman in the North. As for Ishara Reborn, she would learn everything the sorcerer had forbidden him and his men to do to her.

Mordad shouted, "Take your positions! Bring death to the Narnians!"

His men, now silent, stealthily arranged themselves behind the hills surrounding the path the Narnians would have to use. They hid beneath the scraggly, stunted trees to avoid the Narnians' scouts. And then they waited. An hour passed.

Just before the second hour passed, they appeared. Mordad raised his hand as they slowed, the Kings conferring together with that demon they claimed as general. One of his archers rose to his knees, drawing an arrow back to his cheek. A shadow passed over them. Mordad hissed in frustration as a flying freak, a mix between lion and bird, screamed out a warning. His archer loosed the arrow, but the younger of the Kings blocked it with his shield. Mordad lowered his hand and another wave of arrows was loosed. Rising to his feet, he shouted, "Death!"

His men echoed his cry, "Death!"

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"Death!"

Peter grimaced as the cry echoed all around. The ambush was well-set and already more of their soldiers had been downed by the arrows than he'd like to think about. Aslan, give us strength. A man cut down a Panther then raced toward him. Peter raised his shield, grunting as the blow rattled his shield and arm. He shoved hard then followed through with Rhindon. The man's curse was silenced mid-word.

Thunder clapped then lightning arced across the sky, casting an eerie light. Peter's feet caught in the muck and he nearly lost his balance. A hand yanked on his tabard, righting him and pulling him onto slightly firmer ground. He looked over his shoulder and gave a curt nod. His brother's pale face was grim as he nodded back. "Watch yourself."

"And you."

The battle raged on. He caught a glimpse of his Tigers fighting, mud and algae staining their orange coats, but thank Aslan neither seemed injured. The Gryphons screamed another warning. Peter dropped to one knee next to Edmund and then raised his shield in unison with his brother. Arrows hit and broke against the shields then subsided. Peter surged to his feet and let out a war cry, "For Narnia and for Aslan!"

"For Narnia! For Aslan!"

Enemy fighters rushed them. Peter whirled to place his back against Edmund's and raised his shield to block an axe. The force of hit made his arm ache all the way to his shoulder but he shrugged it off. He stepped forward slightly, twisting to his left as Rhindon sliced deep into the mercenary's thigh. The man roared and brought his axe up again. Peter hammered his shield into the man's elbow then plunged Rhindon point first into his opponent's unprotected side just beneath the armpit.

More men rushed him. Peter fought on until both his shield and Rhindon felt heavier than even the first time he wielded them under Oreius' tutelage. Somewhere in the chaos was Edmund. Have to find him. Sweat dripped down his face and back to mingle with the dampness created by the rivulets of rain creeping in the gaps in his armor. Occasionally the wind would shift and the rain hit him at an angle, slipping inside the eye slit of his helmet, threatening to blind him.

Peter stomped on a mercenary's foot then slammed his shield into the man's gut, rolling him over his back to land in the mud. The man snarled and swiped at Peter's legs only to be tackled by Bast. Peter nodded to the Tigress when she looked back at him. He was unharmed. Something in Bast's expression shifted as her gaze moved beyond him. Peter whirled around. Edmund had abandoned his shield and was fighting with twin blades against a couple of mercenaries. But a huge brute of man lumbered out of the rain behind them all, his massive war hammer raised and aimed at his brother's vulnerable back. "Edmuuuuuund!"

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Edmund panted as he dodged one mercenary's sword and blocked the other man. "Edmuuuuuund!" Peter's cry carried to him in spite of the raging storm. His head turned, eyes automatically searching for his brother before they caught on the huge mercenary with the war hammer. He couldn't move fast enough to dodge the hit, not with the other two men straining against his swords. This is going to hurt.

Twin grey blurs slammed into the brute. They made no sound while the man screamed in fear and dropped his war hammer as one Wolf latched onto his arm and the other clawed and bit at his torso before all three toppled. Edmund dropped to one knee, bringing Shafhelm down and to the right, cutting one mercenary's legs out from under him. The other man didn't flee in spite of the fact that Edmund could see his desire to fight shrinking by the second. "Tash!"

Edmund stepped back and to the side, as skillful as any dancer, allowing the mercenary to run past him. The man turned back, snorting as though he were a bull, his breath forming large white clouds. Then he charged. Edmund shifted his stance, waiting for just the right moment. There. He stepped into the man's charge, batting away his sword, and then struck once. The man dropped with only the faintest of gurgles as his lifeblood mixed with the muck underfoot.

Lightning flashed overhead, illuminating the battlefield. He caught a glimpse of Oreius and at least a score of heavily armored Centaurs charging for the northwest hill where Mordad's archers still held their ground. Then he was once again caught up in the battle. He tried to make his way back to where he had last seen Peter, but the blasted mercenaries were conspiring against him. Edmund ducked his head against the pelting rain then allowed his foot to slip.

The mercenaries in front of him couldn't resist. Edmund surged to his feet with a wordless battle cry. He dodged and spun away from their attacks, driving them toward one of the hidden pools he had noticed earlier. If he could get them to fall in, that would keep them distracted enough to allow him to reach Peter. One of the men pulled a dagger and lunged. Edmund sidestepped it even as he cut the man down. A howl rose from somewhere to his right. Shoving the remaining mercenary back so he tripped over a small hillock, Edmund whirled. One of his Wolves leapt on a mercenary, snarling. He saw the mercenary twist his sword to slash at the Wolf just before he fell. Another howl rose, "Romulus!"

Edmund raced to the wounded Wolf, gulping at the large red stain matting the grey fur just in front of his back leg. "Romulus!" He dropped to one knee next to the Wolf and placed his hand on Romulus' head.

Romulus whined, "I stopped him, Alpha."

"I know, I know you did. I saw you." Edmund cleared his throat. "I'm very proud of you, Romulus. Don't worry, we're going to get you out of here." He waved an arm to catch the attention of one of the Centaurs. He quickly rose as the soldier approached. "Get him to our healers and make sure the rest of the wounded are being pulled behind the line."

"Yes, Your Majesty." The Centaur scooped Romulus into his muscular arms then galloped away.

Remus looked up at Edmund, yellow eyes fierce with determination. "I'm staying."

"All right, come on." Edmund threw himself back into the fray. One thought weighed foremost in his mind. Where is Peter?

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Mordad sneered at the Narnians fighting below. Not nearly as many had fallen to his archers as he had wanted. The ground trembled beneath his feet as Centaurs charged up the hill. Mordad paused at the sight of the foremost Centaur, the one whose armor was lighter and more decorative than the others. He remembered him. The General, Ishara Reborn's lover from Veri.

He didn't move as his archers were slaughtered and trampled beneath the Centaurs' charge. He didn't care. Mordad only cared about waiting for the opportune moment. There. The Centaurs were splitting off into two groups. Mordad stepped out into clear view and raised his sword in unspoken challenge. The General saw him, he could tell from the tightening of the demon's fist around his claymore. Mordad spun on his heel and ran back to his horse then galloped toward the flood plain. This was going to be fun...he would make sure the General died from a thousand cuts but not before he explained to the demon exactly what he was going to do to Ishara Reborn.

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Edmund spun and cut down another mercenary. Remus' grey coat was splattered with a mix of mud, algae, and blood (none of it the Wolf's though) as he ran beside him. The Wolf pup bared his teeth in a snarl. "There!"

Following the Wolf's gaze, Edmund's heart stopped when he saw Peter struggling to throw off the two huge mercenaries (were they half-Ogre?) holding him down as another man approached them with a wicked-looking spear. "Nooooo!"

"Remus, get them off Peter," Edmund snapped. He could only trust in Aslan that the young Wolf would reach them in time. He focused on the spear bearer. The man hefted the spear, poised to skewer Peter. Out of the corner of his eye, Edmund saw the grey blur that was Remus barrel into the nearest brute. Peter was struggling again. Edmund picked up his speed.

Running faster in spite of the muck clinging to his boots, Edmund sheathed his secondary sword and raised Shafhelm high as he leapt forward. A war cry burst from his lips as Shafhelm hacked through the spear haft, the spearhead falling harmlessly into the marsh water. However, the mercenary was too quick. Edmund was knocked off his feet as the man slammed the spear haft into his ribs.

Edmund gasped for air, his ribs radiating hot pain as he rolled out of strike range. Black spots danced in front of his eyes. Still, he surged to his feet, unsheathing his secondary sword as he did so. His brother had already engaged the man. Peter's helmet was gone. Rain and blood darkened his golden hair and blood dripped down the left side of his face but still he fought.

The mercenary sneered, warping a face that would have been almost too pretty if not for his broken nose, then he slammed his spear haft into Peter's leg. Edmund's blood boiled as his brother's cry of pain filled his ears. He charged the mercenary, chopping through the spear haft and then kicking him hard in the gut. Edmund placed himself between Peter and the mercenary, uncaring of how his ribs burned and ached. He was not going to allow this coward to touch his brother again.

The mercenary drew a large curved scimitar. Edmund darted in then sidestepped, baiting the man. Despite the height and strength he had gained in the last eight years, the mercenary still made up three of him and it was all muscle. The man charged. Edmund ducked under his swipe and plunged both swords into the man's torso, one piercing his heart. He wrenched his swords free and the man fell, eyes unseeing, as Edmund turned back to his brother. "What happened to not losing consciousness this time?"

Peter managed a wan smile. "I'm conscious. I just don't want to be." Still he gasped as Edmund helped him to his feet. The fighting was dying down around them. "Where's Oreius?"

Edmund scanned the battlefield. "I don't know."

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4 Yule 1008

Lightning struck a scraggly tree nearby and the horse reared. Half-blinded by the rain, Alambiel lost her grip on the mare's mane and the reins. The horse reared again and she fell. Alambiel coughed as she staggered to her feet. The mare was already a brown dot disappearing back south.

The sound of fighting reached her. Alambiel ran toward the sound, staying close to the shadows as she clambered over rocks and fallen trees. She might have been too late to prevent the ambush but she would find a way to help. A man fell with a short cry, tumbling down the slight path she followed. Alambiel stared into his face and tensed as she recognized it even though the last time she had seen him there had been a mocking and cruel leer carved into his sallow cheeks. Mordad's men...and she had no weapon. She quickly searched the dead man, some part of her relaxing an infinitesimal amount when she found a sturdy dagger. This, this she could control.

Alambiel continued up the path. Shouts and the distinctive clash of metal grew louder until she reached a bend. Peeking out, she caught sight of a Centaur surrounded by at least six mercenaries. General Oreius. The sight made her heart constrict and she didn't understand why but then she froze. Another mercenary was creeping up behind the fight, his bow aimed at the General's back. The dagger left her fingers before she even realized she'd raised her hand. The dagger buried itself in the archer's chest and he fell with a strangled cry.

Another of Mordad's men slammed into her, yanking on her cloak until she managed to free the clasp. Now she turned and slammed the heel of her hand into the man's nose. He shouted and cursed in pain. She wrenched his sword free and slammed the pommel against his temple, backing away as he collapsed.

"Oh look, the witch has returned. Just in time to watch you die."

Alambiel shuddered as she turned around. Mordad was watching her with that awful smile of his. And behind him was the General...he looked horrified.

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Oreius could not shake his horror at Alambiel's unexpected arrival. She should not be within a day's ride of here, much less within Mordad's grasp. He did not miss the fear in her eyes when she turned to face Mordad, her sword still held in front of her. Anger flared and he kicked out, catching another mercenary in the head. He would not allow Mordad to touch her again.

The snake was already toying with her, stepping just close enough to almost be within range but never close enough for her to strike. No more. No, he would end this as he should have in Veri. Oreius charged. Alambiel lunged as Mordad turned, catching him in the side. The snake cursed then kicked her twice in the knee, driving her down into the mud. He raised his sword. Oreius swung his claymore with all his strength, slicing through the snake's neck and arm. Mordad's body crumpled to the sodden ground,

Alambiel flinched, her borrowed sword dropping from slackened fingers as she turned her face away from the severed head that rolled to her feet. Oreius sheathed his claymore then grabbed her arms to steady her. She had been forced to face too many demons already. He sought the words to reassure her. "It is done." He tightened his grasp slightly, worried she would slip into shock or even faint. "Alambiel, it is done. He will trouble no one now."

Alambiel gave a little half-nod, still not looking at him, and the dull roar of water closed in. Oreius scanned the area, the few mercenaries who had survived were limping north. But, he had allowed himself to be lured into the flood plain and after three days of continuous rain... Oreius shook his head then held a hand out to Alambiel. "Come."

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Alambiel stared at the General then she stepped over Mordad's body, not looking down, and took the Centaur's hand. He swung her onto his back. "Hang on."

"Why?"

"We must outrun the flood."

Eyes widening, Alambiel clung to him. "What about the Kings?"

"They will be safe." Then the General galloped toward the flood. Alambiel bit back an objection to his chosen course as he suddenly leapt up to a crumbling ledge. She tightened her grip as he fought for footing then galloped up a path that was almost too narrow for him. Dark, debris-strewn water roared past as the General climbed higher. Alambiel jumped as thunder clapped directly overhead. And then the General touched her hands. He glanced over his shoulder at her. "We will be safe here." She opened her mouth to ask where and then General Oreius ducked inside a cave.

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A/N: Please Read and Review! Big thank you to WillowDryad for making sure that Mordad is in fact dead. :) Only three more chapters to go. Leave a review and let me know what y'all thought about this one.