"And you are sure that this cave is the same as theirs?"
The Morkin brothers looked at each other and then looked back at Edmund, nodding rather nervously.
"I think so," said the eldest. "It's deep enough to reach that depth. It would only take a few hours to discover… if we're remembering correctly it should intersect with the other perfectly. We think we've been into that cave before."
Edmund raised an eyebrow. "And you did not mention this days ago because…?"
Roc and Noc looked at each other and then at the ground, looking rather awkward. It was Roc who finally spoke. "We went exploring in those caves when we were children, and our mother had forbidden us to do so… we haven't spoken of it since and we weren't quite sure…"
"And you are sure that they do not know of this cave?"
"Yes," said Noc. "It's hidden in a way that makes it look like it's just a crevice in the wall. It's rather high off the ground but the jump is possible."
"And it will prove invaluable in a battle," Borik put in, looking at Edmund, who nodded and then put his hands together in front of him, touching his fingertips as he immersed himself in his thoughts.
Finally he spoke, some minutes later. "We ought to send a group in to explore first, but we do not have that time, if our friends are as predictable as I think they are." He inhaled sharply and straightened up, his eyes clear and determined. "Roc and Noc, you will lead me and a third of our company to the caves. Gather the supplies you need and we shall leave in half an hour."
"Half an hour? Your Majesty!" The Morkins were shocked. "It's too dangerous! There is a waterfall… it will be dusk soon and by the time we reach the caves all will be in complete darkness!"
"We have no choice," said Edmund. "Though not very skillful, they still outnumber us. If my suspicions are correct and we do not do this tonight, we might not stand much of a chance."
The Red Dwarves' eyes widened and they soon ran off to find the things they needed. Borik met Edmund's gaze.
"Are you going to ask me if I am sure about this?" Edmund said wryly.
The Dwarf grinned. "Nay, Sire. I agree with you completely. I was merely wondering what you want me to do."
Night fell over the forest and the camp was surrounded by the noise of insect life. Above the trees, the moon had retreated behind a heavy curtain of clouds, making the night all the darker. Tents had been set up between the hollows in the rocky hill, and the only lights visible were one or two candles now and then, though these eventually were turned off as all went to sleep. At the bottom of the hill, the horses and ponies rested quietly, occasionally moving to reach a new patch of grass.
Hours passed, and it was well after midnight that any unusual noises were heard. The camp was completely quiet, except for the occasional sound of quiet breathing from those who slept within, and the crickets chirped in an almost subdued way, hidden among the bushes. In the almost complete darkness of the night, broken only by an occasional firefly or the glimmering of some stars between the leaves of the trees, a silent army advanced, guided only by the shining eyes of a panther that slinked in the dark before it.
The horses shifted uncomfortably as they felt unknown presences around them, and one of the ponies made a low noise as it recognized the smell that had brought it pain some days before. But neither sound nor movement could be heard within the tents, and no one saw or heard the silent footsteps of their attackers as they climbed the rocky hill, their movements careful and calculated as they positioned themselves before the tents, bright swords already drawn and arrows on the string as they prepared to strike their enemy. The most skillful of the group were before the tent at the center, which was most likely the King's.
Then, all at once, they struck, pulling the tents open and charging with weapons at the ready. But they were met with empty beds and only three soldiers with their weapons ready and armor on, while on the outside, the rest of the small army from Cair Paravel had climbed the hill behind them and now had them surrounded.
Meanwhile, Edmund was giving slow, careful steps as he walked over the narrow, slippery rock floor. They were on a narrow ledge on the side of the mountain, nearly twelve feet from the ground, which led into the small entrance of a cave behind the raging, icy cold waterfall that fell down the side of the mountain. Edmund tried not to shiver as the spray hit his face, somehow feeling as if it had managed to permeate his armor. Behind him came a Satyr who did not look very happy about the situation, his hooves nearly slipping off the edge with every step he gave, and in front of him went Witrow, his ears flat against his head as he withstood the onslaught of spray, the thought of slipping the least of his worries. In front of them all were Roc and Noc, who had taken along with them two large packs as well as the necessary weapons and armor that Borik had provided.
Edmund breathed a sigh of pure relief as he finally entered the damp cave, reaching out to pull the rather frightened satyr inside. Roc and Noc had pulled out two lanterns, which they handed to the satyr and a Faun, and then pulled out what seemed like an eternal length of thin rope.
They tied it to an old hook by the entrance. "We put it there ourselves, years ago," said Noc proudly, as he tested it. "This way we make sure we won't get lost."
"I sincerely hope we do not," said Edmund, not entirely amused. It had been years since the Morkins had been to this place, and though they seemed rather confident about being able to find the way into the rebels' cave, any number of things could have happened to the passages in the past few years, and they weren't entirely sure if it intersected with that cave or if they had simply remembered wrong. Either way, they had no choice, so Edmund followed the brothers silently as they finally decided on which way to go and began to walk, pulling the rope alongside them so as to leave a trail that would lead them back to the entrance if it was needed.
"Let us hope this does lead to the right place, or we will have to go through the water again," Witrow growled. "This cave smells rotten."
Roc hushed him sharply, hissing that noise is louder in caves and might carry to the other cave. Edmund could tell that the leopard was holding back a snide remark, and held back a smile. There was something oddly amusing about the feline's haughty personality.
They walked for what felt like hours, though the dwarves assured them it was only an effect of the caves and that little over forty minutes had passed, though Edmund did not know how they could possibly be sure of that. The heavy mountain above their heads felt as if it was breathing down their necks and weighing down on their shoulders, and Edmund often found himself having to actively think of something different in order to escape the pressing feeling of claustrophobia as the walls of the cave became narrower and narrower.
Roc and Noc, on the other hand, seemed to be getting happier the deeper they went. Edmund hoped it meant that they had realized that they were right about the passage and that it did indeed lead into the rebels', but he was not entirely sure and he did not feel like asking. However, when Roc and Noc turned to smile gleefully at him, he had to ask.
"Oh, yes," said Roc, nodding earnestly. "Two more turns and we should be able to hear them."
Edmund let out the air he hadn't realized he had been holding in. He nodded and pulled out his sword, a movement that was rather inhibited by the narrowness of the passage and therefore had to be done with much more care, and motioned for everyone else to do so as well. "Not a word from now on," he said. "Does it get any wider later on?"
"Yes, Sire," said Noc. "Very soon."
"Good. I will need to move ahead of you, and then we will listen and wait. On my signal we rush in."
The next few minutes were tense ones. Edmund wished he could look at the sky to know what time it was and know how long they were likely to wait. Part of him feared that they might be too late, or worse, that all the effort had been for nothing and that they were not really in the right cave, or that he had severely miscalculated and Teucer had not decided to attack their camp that night.
But these worries soon vanished as the corridor widened and they began to feel clearer air moving in from in front of them. Edmund moved ahead in the line, and the dwarves put out the lanterns, leaving the rope, which was close to running out, on the ground. Their movements were extremely cautious; the mere sliding of gravel could be loud enough to alert the entire cave of their presence.
Then they heard noises, and Edmund was filled with a deep feeling of gratitude. The dwarves had been right; it most certainly was Teucer's cave. Carefully holding his sword, he moved to sit down near where the corridor stopped and ran out into the wall of the larger cave, some feet higher than the floor. They must be deeper in the mountain, because there was only a slight flicker of light from distant torches, which Edmund was grateful for. They could not afford to be trapped inside the corridor or just outside it; they needed to be able to enter the cave entirely.
He went ahead of the others and crouched near the entrance, judging by the flickering firelight the length of the cave, and discovering an important piece of information: the cave was shaped like an L, with the longest part being where the entrance from the exterior was. Their corridor penetrated the very middle of the shortest side, which was slightly curved and full of columns and crevices which easily hid the hole. He could hear the low murmur of voices and the occasional crack of wood or the movement of a chair. The flickering shadows on the walls helped him know what number of people was in the cave.
They had not left yet, but it was obvious that they would. Edmund could see the outlines of weapons in their hands and people being dressed in old, heavy armor. He had been right. Now all they had to do was wait.
Their moment came nearly three hours later after what felt like the most agonizing wait of their lives.
Most of the Knights of Stone had left, and Edmund had heard Teucer's voice echoing throughout the cave, which made everything that was happening quite clear despite the fact that they were rather far. Things were going according to plan, and Edmund could almost taste victory when Teucer, followed by Nirthic and another Dwarf.
A few moments later, he gestured to the others.
Slowly, they stood up, grasping their weapons. Witrow, a satyr and the two Morkins quickly jumped down into the cave and moved towards the front of the cave, where they were to attack the guards, quickly followed by Edmund, a Faun and a Red Dwarf, who ran towards the end of the cave.
Teucer and his people barely had time to react, but when they reached them Teucer was already holding a sword at the ready, his wide eyes murderous. Beside him, Nirthic had seized a knife, while the other old Dwarf crouched behind the centaur.
Edmund ran to Teucer, their swords clashing loudly the very second they heard a pained cry from the Minotaur at the entrance of the cave. Edmund struck fiercely, delivering blow after blow. Beside him, the Faun was fighting Nirthic, who had proved himself quite skilled with the knife, while the Dwarf moved towards the one that hid behind Teucer. But the centaur rose up and delivered a kick at the Red Dwarf, who fell backwards, the wind knocked out of him, even as Edmund struck at Teucer's leg, causing it to bleed profusely.
The centaur screamed with rage, his leg crumpling beneath him, but he dragged himself forward with his other three legs, his sword coming down upon Edmund over and over again in a mad flurry of movement. Edmund found himself having to duck and jump sideways to avoid being beheaded. Still, he was suddenly seized with a strange uneasiness; he did not want to kill Narnians, and he definitely did not want to kill a centaur. Teucer might have gone insane with grief and hatred, but he had once been a magnificent creature. Despite all the destruction and pain that Teucer had created, Edmund could not bring himself to truly attempt to stab him in the heart.
That did not mean, however, that he would not disarm him. The Dwarf Teucer had kicked rose and distracted the centaur, giving Edmund opportunity to push him back towards a pile of empty crates. The centaur crashed against them and tripped, his already wounded leg crumpling beneath him once more, his age weighing him down as he fell, his sword slipping from his fingers. The Faun pressed Nirthic against the wall at that very moment, and Edmund seized the centaur's sword, holding them both pointed towards him.
"Surrender," said Edmund coldly. "And I will not kill you."
Teucer laughed a grotesque, mad laugh. "I do not want your pity, traitor."
And reaching sideways, he pulled the knife from Nirthic's hand and pulled the Dwarf to him, pressing a knife against his own accomplice. "We will not bow before false Kings." And he slit the Dwarf's throat before any of them could do anything, and then slit his own.
Their bodies crumpled to the ground and Edmund and his men had no choice but stand there and watch as they gave their dying coughs, blood spilling from their lips. Behind them, the cowering Dwarf was quickly apprehended by Witrow, the Morkins and the satyr. Roc had a grimace of pain on his face; he seemed to have broken a rib.
Edmund stared at the dead centaur that lay in the pool of blood, an inexplicable feeling in his stomach. He then took a deep breath and looked at the others, no joy or triumph in his expression.
"Well, then," he said.
..
They joined Borik and the others in the forest, bringing three tied-up dwarves on their horses, which they had left, tied up relatively near to the cave before leaving. The Minotaur had refused to surrender. The rocky hill now held nearly fifteen captives kneeling in a circle, carefully watched over by a boar and another leopard.
"The fighting just finished," said Borik, wiping the sweat off his forehead with a dirty rag. "But we seem to have lost seven of them… they stole some of the horses and are heading East."
Wordlessly, Edmund turned his horse and left in that direction, followed by five others. They went as fast as the forest would allow them, brushing past tree trunks and ducking branches. Edmund gripped the reins tightly, his jaw clenched with worry. They could not afford to let seven criminals free without at the very least standing trial; the rebellion ran the risk of repeating itself if the culprits were not caught and did not suffer the consequences for their actions. But they had had a head start; they must have left early on in the battle, if Borik had only just noticed it and had not acted immediately. He cursed mentally, urging his horse to go faster.
They reached the edge of the wood and galloped towards the road. The sun was already rising ahead of them, and the cold morning wind whipped at their face almost painfully. Edmund kept his eyes trained on any sign of a cloud of dust ahead as they advanced down the winding road. Perhaps they had already gone too far to be caught; Edmund shuddered to imagine the expressions on the villagers' faces when they realized that he and his people had allowed seven of the people responsible for the destruction and raiding of their village escape them. Though they had cut off the head of the rebellion, any remaining pieces of it that went unpunished could still be dangerous to Narnia.
Troubled as he was with these thoughts, it took Edmund a moment to process what was happening in front of him when he turned a corner and found himself at the crossroads of Pebble.
The seven remaining Knights of Stone seemed to have just gotten there as well, and were reining the horses sharply, trying to turn away from the barrier that had been lifted blocking the way East. Three of them were Talking Beasts, and were trying to climb or fly over it, but they were immediately hit with rocks or wooden clubs from the other side of the barrier.
The minute they turned to escape and saw Edmund and his people riding towards them, they dropped their weapons and surrendered. The gate of the barrier opened and Susan stood there, armed with her bow and quiver of arrows, and surrounded by villagers wielding homemade weapons.
"Hello Sister," said Edmund rather breathlessly as they tied up the criminals with some help from the villagers.
Susan smiled.
This chapter was a bit shorter than the rest, but the next one, which is also the last one, will be of a normal length. Thanks for reading and reviewing :)