Prompt #3: One of the friends of Narnia (or a Narnian, if you like) learns their colours.

† Countermeasures †

19 OCTOBER 1016
A YEAR AND ONE DAY AFTER THE BANISHMENT…

Juma's chambers were a tiny flat in one of Cair Paravel's naked and hollow stone turrets, which meant any noise in the narrow stairwell was unreasonably loud and incessantly reverberant, and he woke up to that fact when he dreamt of somebody knocking on his door and soon realized it was the real thing.

"Juma, are you in there?" said Tumnus.

"Yes, I'm in here," said the leopard wearily. "Come in, and don't bandy about."

The wooden door groaned in, showing the faun's face shadowed by the torchlight. He stared at Juma for a moment, then turned to the centaurs behind him and said, "Would you give us a moment?"

The centaurs nodded and turned about, leaving Tumnus alone on the stair.

"What do you need an escort for?" said Juma.

"Wouldn't you know?" said the faun bitterly. "Oh, what am I saying? Of course you wouldn't, seeing as you weren't in Narnia."

"Our leaders signed a treaty with murderers and assassins, and they weren't listening to a word I said."

"They were our Kings and Queens!"

"That doesn't mean they're above the law. I'm sorry, but I wasn't going to sit by and watch them ruin Narnia."

"Fair enough," said Tumnus flatly. "But while you were in hiding, these people destroyed my home, and then they turned on me. I was unconscious for four months while you saved your hide."

"I'm sorry about what happened to you. I am. But we know there was nothing I could do. The Duke and his armies were about to move in on the Cair, and I didn't think Aslan was willing to act."

"But he did, and he dealt with these people. You should have let him play his role, as any Narnian should."

Juma sighed and leaned backward, stretching his forelegs over the rug. "Are we going to continue this tirade, or do you have something of import to say?"

Tumnus scoffed and leaned against the wall, folding his arms over his chest. "It's Narnia for Narnians, isn't it? They're the ones causing all the chaos."

"I wouldn't know," Juma lied.

"You're the chief of security in Cair Paravel, and you don't know what's going on?"

"I've been back in Narnia for a month," Juma lied. "Or do you think I'm omniscient? Do you want me to give you the weather report?"

The faun chuckled ruefully and wagged his curly hair, and after a pause, he let out a sigh of equanimity. "Philip told me you were looking for help."

"No, he's the one looking for help," said the leopard. "He's trying to find out who's causing the violence, and he's trying to keep the Talking Beasts from taking the thrones. The poor devil's fighting two wars at once."

"This is why we need Peridan on the throne now. Our country is tearing itself to pieces. But that's not even the worst of it."

"I know about the courthouse in Beruna. Damned fools got drunk and ruined the place."

"It's worse than that. Did you hear about the mines in Lantern Waste? Apparently these people just made off with a stash of ten years' wages. After that, they went back to Beruna in the middle of the night—and a centaur and his men tried to take the Stone Table."

Juma feigned a look of shock. "…They what?"

"Don't you worry. Oreius and his men got there first. We're burying it in the south of Beruna, and it's going to be under constant guard. We're calling it Aslan's How, and I dare anyone to take the Stone Table now."

Challenge accepted, said Juma. "Well, it seems you know as much as I do. But I don't think you woke me just to tell me that."

"Unfortunately, no. When Lord Peridan heard about what happened, he added more men to his entourage. He has an army making an appearance, and three teams of men hiding in the woods and the castle. As chief of security for Cair Paravel, you ought to know what the new arrangements are. But you might want a paper and a pen; it's complicated..."

TWO HOURS LATER…

"All right, look alive!" barked the leopard as he marched into the cavern and plodded into the ring of Talking Beasts. "First of all, the Stone Table has been moved to a hill three miles south of Beruna. It's heavily guarded, so wait for the men to make a rotation—which is what you should have done, Aristarchus."

The black-haired centaur glowered at him and hid his blushing face.

"Secondly, the coronation will be more difficult than we thought. When Lord Peridan comes to Narnia, he'll have a larger escort."

"How large?" said the centaur.

"Large enough. The greencoats are his public army. (Think the green outfits of the Archenlander men.) The whitecoats with gold necklaces will be in the throne room. (Think of the thrones—white marble with gold decoration.) There are also whitecoats with red necklaces. They'll be in the dining hall. (Think of the red wine from the Western Wild.) Most browncoats will hide in woods. Some will be in the crowds, pretending to be civilians."

The red fox looked utterly confused. "So…the whitecoats will be hiding in the crowds."

"No, Declan…"

"And the men with gold bands will be hiding in the woods—"

"No!"

"So then, the green ones are hiding in the crowds?"

"No, Declan! Learn your colors, dammit!"

"Yeh, come on, you little fool," said a gray wolf. "It's easy: The whitecoats with gold bands will be marchin' with Lord Peridan. And—" And the wolf went just as confused. "Er, um, no, that wasn't right. Er…um…the browncoats will—"

"Oh, I'm surrounded by idiots," Juma muttered. "I'll make it so simple that even you can understand it. Now listen carefully: Peridan will have an army of greencoats; they'll be the army everyone can see. He'll also have two secret units coming in the day before: The browncoats will be hiding in the woods around the Cair, and the whitecoats will be hiding in the Cair itself. Among the whitecoats, there are men with gold bands around their wrists. They'll take up positions in the Great Hall. The rest of the whitecoats will have red necklaces. They'll be stationed in the dining hall and kitchens. Some of the browncoats will hide in the northern woods, and the others will hide in the crowd and be on the lookout for anyone suspicious. (Namely, us.)"

"So when do we kill Peridan?" said a tiger.

"When everyone's gathered together for the feast."

The tiger's mouth fell open as wide as his eyes. "Are you barmy?! You're talking about killing him where everyone can see us!"

Juma nodded. "That's the point."

The tiger's mouth flapped mindlessly as it gulped for words. "But if the objective is to stay covert—"

"That's not the objective, Sharaad. Not for me, anyway."

And without warning, a flicker of comprehension lit up the tiger's eyes. "My God," he muttered. "You're going to kill him yourself..."

The leopard nodded solemnly. "The whole of Narnia will be looking for his killer. And I can't ask anyone else to do this."

"But why?" said the tiger. "You've rebuilt our army. You've risked your life for us. You've turned against your friends, and you're using them for our operation. Why would you die for this? What do you have to gain?"

The leopard drew in a weighty breath, and with a majestic look on his face, he loped onto a rock and stood proudly over the crowd. "Narnia for Narnians...now and forever."

With his face going cold and solemn, Sharaad sighed and nodded his shaggy head. "Narnia for Narnians...now and forever."

And nothing more was said of the matter.