(4,306 words)
(I draw inspiration for my stories from The Chronicles of Narnia in all it's manifestations, both canon and non-canon.)
(revised)
Disclaimer: The Chronicles of Narnia are the intellectual property of Clive Staples Lewis and his legally recognized representatives. We come here just to play in his garden.
Warning: M-rated for depictions of violence and drug use but mostly to give me some wiggle room.
pages 10-14
The Narnians
"The Lion, the Witch, the Wardrobe and Beyond"
~~~chapter3~~~
What Price Victory
The battle was over. All was quiet save for the rising wind.
Grunram found himself once again being tossed through the air to land on the seat of his britches with a grunt. Tobruk having abandoned him in order to hurry to his stricken companion.
Lifting the badger from the snow Tobruk held him out at arm's length. The fur under the bear's eyes grew increasingly dark streaked from his uncontrolled weeping. "Azron... Azron. Are - are you alright! Don't worry Azron we'll fix you up real good. Azron... we'll get you to the Inn and they'll put things to right. Right?"
Sucking air in response to being unwittingly jostled by the bear Azron urged through clinched teeth. "Set me down, please - Tobruk,' then quickly added. 'Wait!"
Balancing himself on his good foot, Azron clinging desperately to the bear's arms, lowered his injured one until it's claws lightly scraped the ground. The sensation of bone grading against bone sent a wave of nausea racing through his stomach, followed by a jolt of pain. In response to this pain he jerked his foot back up aggravating the condition even more.
Tobruk empathizing with his kindred spirit settled to the ground, lowering Azron onto a knee where he enveloped the badger in protective arms.
"Azron, it's going to be alright,' Tobruk cooed. 'We'll get you all better and then we can go back to pulling the sleigh together. Can't we?"
Azron couldn't deceive his dear companion. Stroking the bear's forearm with a reassuring paw, he searched for the right words so that Tobruk might understand.
"I'm sorry my friend but no, I won't be getting better. You'll just have to carry on without me," the badger murmured.
The bear began wailing hysterically, "I can't go on with out you Azron. I can't do this alone!"
"There-there Tobruk," Azron said, affectionately patting the bear's wrist. "Look around, you've got lots of friends who'll be there for you."
Sweeping his paw in a semicircle, Azron paused for a second at the spot where he'd seen Tem standing just moments before.
He continued, "Who knows, maybe we might even find you a nice lady bear to help you pull the sleigh. You'd like that wouldn't you. 'Come on, wouldn't yea," Azron said jostling the bear.
Tobruk had almost stopped shuddering. "Oh yes, that would be lovely," he pipped.
Wiping his nose on the back of his paw, Tobruk once again was overcome by the idea of facing the world without Azron. "No, no I – you – cant," but everyone present understood the crisis had passed.
The bond shared by Tobruk and Azron left Merbos feeling empty. After the death of his family many years ago, he had cultivated a presona of the self-sufficient outsider in hopes of shielding himself from just such emotional entanglements.
He now saw, after all they had just been through, that he had chosen the wrong path. A life of generosity surrounded by loved ones was far more rewarding then one spent trying to hold the world at arms length but there was still time to change. He could make a difference. He would - make a difference!
Bounding to the head of the pass he started shouting orders to the fauns. "Asuls - Mosus, cut me some long strips of canvas from that tarp for bandages.
Racing the rest of the way down to the sleigh Merbos dove in, rummaging around under the dasher. He backed out a moment later dragging their leather first-aid kit by it's strap. Spitting out the strip of leather he inquired of the fauns, "Anything useful in here lads?"
The only response they could offer was a wag of the head and a shrug of the shoulders.
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"Right lads, back to your chores then. O, when your done here would you also bring along our blanket rolls. We can cut them up to use as gauze padding, a little soiled but that can't be helped right now. O, while I'm about it, would you also bring along some lengths of rope and one of those casks of whiskey for cleaning wounds." Orders given, Merbos snatched up the leather strap between his teeth and trotted off dragging the first-aid bag behind him.
"Lads," was the only comment a surprised Mosus could offer. His bewilderment was greeted by a mirthless chuckle from Asuls.
Asuls had a thought. "Master Merbos,' he called after the fox. 'What about the medical supplies we're moving?"
Up the hill, the fox stopping spit out the strap. Looking towards the battle field Merbos thought he knew what Tem would have said. "That's not for our use Asuls."
With that having been said there was nothing else to be done except return to the tasks appointed them.
...
The old dwarf climbing wearily to his feet pressed his free hand under his right arm trying to stanch a trickle of blood. Trudging over to join his battered minotaur companion Grunram stopped to pick up Tem's longbow.
'The badger can use this for a crutch. Tem would have liked that,' the dwarf thought. He stooped to pick up a few of the captain's arrows scattered here and there across the snow. Their shafts should make serviceable splints for the badger's leg too, he reasoned.
"Kinoe, you look like something a mother wolf might drag home to feed her youngins." The dwarf's stab at humor bought an appreciated chuckle from his companion.
Hoisting the minotaur's hand onto his right shoulder Grunram pressed his bow and arrow laden left hand into the small of Kinoe's back urging his charge forward.
"Lets get patched up so we can clear away this wreckage and be moving on. Night's gona be on us soon a nuff," The dwarf observed.
Kino seeing the hilt of Tem's cutlass half buried in the snow stopped and shook off the dwarf's hand. Bending over he gripped the neck of the dead brigand in one hand and heaved the carcass up by its throat. Wrapping his other hand around the cutlass's grip, Kinoe released the body letting it slide off the sword's blade like some bizarre scabbard.
Anger began welling up in Kinoe, not for his foes but at himself for not having acted sooner. His frustration growing he drove the blade of Tem's cutlass into the corpse at his feet. Giving in to the rage he started slashing and jabbing at the motionless form scattered around on the ground. He froze when his next thrust caused it's receiver to arch up emitting a shrill wail as the life went out of it.
The peal of the dying wolf flushed two spies from their hiding place among the rocks. Making a broad arc around the partisans, the escapees raced away eastward. Kinoe razing up to give chase found his way blocked by Grunram's outstretched arms.
"Leav'um go son,' Grunram implored. 'Their just a couple of omegas, probably too weak or too dull to be a threat. An iffin the fools do manage to find their way back and report their failure to Her, well She brooks no failures."
Kinoe bending over used the dead wolf to wipe off the blood staining Tem's sword. The idea of the darkness consuming itself left the minotaur with a satisfied feeling.
Mosus and Asuls returned with the items the fox had requested. Merbos rummaging around in the bag of first-aid supplies pulled out scissors and a small linen towel. Pressing these into Mosus hands, he told the faun to go see what he could do for elder Grunram. The fox next ordered Asuls to use his belt knife to cut strips from one of the blankets."
Holding a strip of blanket, Merbos with apologies, stuffed the dirty rag into the badger's gaping mouth. Tobruk bear-hugging the thrashing Azron, they elevated his injured foot to see what they could do for him. Using his teeth Merbos twist the end stopper out of the firkin and dribbled a small amount of the ember liquid over the struggling badger's foot. The cask placed aside, the fox set about binding-up Azron's crushed foot.
The smugglers next turned their attention to the Midway contingent. Returning to the group Grunram tossed Tem's bow onto the snow next to the bear. He handed the arrows to Asuls with instructions to snap off the points and fletchings. The arrow shafts were to be use as leg splints he explained.
Heedless of his own blood the dwarf picked up the small keg hefting it overhead, pouring a splash of whiskey mostly into his mouth. He offered the firkin to Kinoe but the minotaur waved it away.
'I'ma guessing everyone has their own way of handling grief,' Grunram thought as he passed the cask over to Mosus.
"Aug! What a waste of fine spirits," the dwarf sputtered when Mosus sloshed whiskey over the wolf's bite.
The faun using the towel Merbos had given him, patted the red tinged dampness from the dwarf's arm then used it to wipe down Grunram's wristband and hand. Asuls joined them in time to help Mosus finish dressing the dwarf's wounds.
The fauns together with the dwarf set about tending to the surprisingly docile minotaur, ever mindful of the cutlass Kinoe carelessly twisted back and forth in his hand.
Thumping the minotaur's chest with the back of his hand when they finished, Grunram announced, "There yea' go and someday U'll be bragging on those fine scars to your youngins."
The dwarf's attempt at humor only seemed to deepen their feeling of loss.
Letting out a long sigh Grunram said. "Au right, lets get this done then."
Azron having been left in the care of Tobruk, the others set off to search the bloody battlefield for the remains of their departed friend.
...
"Oh for The Love of Aslan! Why'd they have to go and do that for," Asuls groaned.
Sitting on a crimson stained midden heap of bone and flesh was the nearly pristine head of Tem, almost chewed away at the neck. What disturbed them most was the way his lifeless eyes seem to follow them where ever they moved.
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"Some perverse ritual maybe. Perhaps a trophy to be carried back to 'Her," Merbos ventured.
"Get me a blanket please," Kinoe requested, the strain evident in his voice.
"There's plenty of stone over by the cliff. We can use it to cover him and his kid,' the dwarf suggested. 'Someone want to see to his youngin's remains," he inquired hopefully.
"We'll look after Fain," Mosus said through broken sobs. Supporting each other the two weeping fauns shuffled off to see to their fallen sled mate.
Following the fauns with his eyes, Grunram revealed to Kinoe. "Never had much use for that youngin. Tem, now, that's a different kettle of stew. He was one of the finest smugglers I ever knew."
His words met with silence, the dwarf got the impression he had struck a nerve in Kinoe. Reaching over the carnage Grunram used his good hand to shut the sallow eyes of the fallen satyr.
A lump growing in his throat, Grunram was reminded of the minotaur's earlier pronouncement. "Yea did indeed call the tune this day my friend," The dwarf said.
Kinoe, settling down on his hocks, spread out on the snow the blanket that would be the burial shroud for his friend. He had up to now been paying the dwarf only half a mind. "Huh? How's that Grunram?"
Grunram solemnly reminded the minotaur. "As yea said earlier, we did this day pay with our dearest blood."
Standing, Kinoe nodded down towards Tem's remains. "I did say that didn't I Grunram but you know what? I'd rather be dancing to Tem's tune of freedom and fraternity then to stand around counting the cost."
"Aye, Kinoe... you've the right of it there," was all the dwarf manage to get out around the lump in his throat.
- "Elder Grunram, Kinoe. Come quick - Fain's alive," Asuls shouted.
Racing over to investigate, Kinoe arrived first. A quick visual inspection of the body laying in the snow, he could not help but notice how Fain's legs lay splayed almost flat on the ground.
"How do you know he's alive," the minotaur asked
When no response was forthcoming he bellowed. "How Do You Know He is Still ALIVE!"
The minotaur's clamor shook the fauns from their confusion.
"After... after what happened to master Tem, I thought it best to examine Fain's body for any signs of damage, that's when I felt a pulse in his neck," Mosus explained.
Kneeling in the snow next to Tem's son, Kinoe placed hands on ether side of Fain's rib cage and gingerly squeezed. The satyr's chest flexing up and down under his finger tips reminded Kinoe of a forge bellows.
Grunram arriving, tugged the glove off his right hand. Pressing a finger to the satyrs throat he could feel the steady thump of blood coursing through an artery. Exhaling in a low whistle, Grunram turned to look where the fox, the bear and the badger stood.
'This'll surely ball things up,' he thought.
Carefully prying Fain's fingers from the grip of the horn bow Kinoe set the weapon out of the way. Feeling for a pulse around the youth's left wrist, the minotaur told them, "He's got a good strong heart."
Still looking over to where Tem's remains lay, Grunram thought. 'Indeed he does Kinoe, indeed he does.'
'Time's a wasting,' Merbos said to him self.
"Tobruk go start unloading the sleigh. I'll send the fauns over to help in a second," he commanded.
The bear torn by conflicting loyalties looked down to Azron for guidance. Clutching the bow, the badger lowered himself down onto the snow. A wave of Azron's paw sent the bear off to do as he had been ordered.
Merbos barked at the fauns, "Mosus go get the rest of the medical supplies and bring them here. Asuls, you go help Tobruk unload the sledge" -
"But I thought you said the supplies aren't for our use," Asuls broke in.
Furrowing his brow the fox shot the fauns a dark look that warned them he was done with their foolishness. Each swallowing hard, the fauns separated to begin their respective tasks.
The others gone, Grunram took a step closer to the minotaur.
"You seen the lay of his legs? I've seen such things at mine accidents,' he said in a low voice. 'His back's bust up, chest's staved in and how much longer he's got to live your guess is as good as mine. An iffin he does live, well you know Midway's laws as good as me. Iffin yea can not pull your own weight, yea can not stay. O, we'll fix him up as best we can, then send him home to be a burden on his poor grieven Ma - or"...
Eyebrows drawn down, Kinoe challenged, "Or what?"
The dwarf bent retrieving the cutlass Kinoe had carelessly dropped. "Or we can put an end to it here and now because iffin he does wake, mark my words. He will - be - suffering.
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The minotaur growled in a menacing voice. "Yes, you can use that on him but if you do, you'll have to use it on me next because if you don't, I swear by the lion's mane I'll use it on you."
Grunram's shoulders sagged, the sword in his hand felt heavy as a block of granite, however, he was relieved to be free of the burden of having to make that decision. What enchantment the kid held over Kinoe and Helria he did not know nor did he care. He had his hands full just trying to keep the peace among the folk of Midway and he wasn't looking to take on the problems of anyone else.
Mosus arrived back with the firkin and bandages as the fox had requested. Merbos instructed him to leave the medical supplies and go help the others unload the sleigh.
"I'll see to Azron first then we can get started," He called over his shoulder to the departing faun.
Climbing to his feet with the help of the fox, Azron waved Merbos off. "I've got to start learning to get around by myself sooner or later, friend," he said before hobbling off to join Grunram and Kinoe, the fox hovering round him the entire time.
Asuls and the bear with the help of Mosus tug the remains of the tarp off the lading. A long crate they were removing from the side of the sled dislodged an iron-bound wood coffer, a Calormen medical emblem riveted to it's lid. The box upon striking the ground popped open spilling it's contents. A sound like sleigh bells filled the air as tiny red and yellow striped black vials fanned out over the snow. The crew, hardly taking notice, continued to stack crates stuffed with pre prepared first-aid bags, kegs of salted fish and boxes of dried fruits and vegetables on to an ever growing pile of orderly confusion.
Their task complete, Mosus remained behind to coil up lengths of rope while Asuls and Tobruk pushed the sleigh over to where their maimed companion lay. The sleigh hissing to a stop, Merbos quickly reached out snatching the knife tucked behind Asuls belt and chop through ropes holding one of the deck planks to the sledge's frame.
"We can use this for a litter," Merbos explained as he handed the knife back to the faun.
Mosus returning took up his customary place next to his mate. The fox standing on hind legs rested a front paw on the leg of each faun. He knew the next request would be a difficult one but the faun's ability to draw strength from each other made them the ideal candidates for what he had in mind.
"Friends,' he began, 'I have a most unpleasant task for you. Would you please prepare the remains of our captain for his final rest."
Without hesitation or comment the fauns set off on their woeful errand.
The minotaur with the bear's help rolled Fain onto his side so the plank could be positioned under him. Using blankets and strips of tarp, they did what they could to stabilize the satyr's fractured ribs. Kinoe supporting the head of the board, Grunram and Merbos passed knotted together lengths of cloth and rope back and forth under the litter to act as straps to secure their game patient to the makeshift stretcher. The now useless legs of the satyr were bundled together at their stifles, his cannons lashed flat against the board. Finished, they carefully loaded the pallet onto the sleigh.
The fauns upon completion of their morbid task tied together the ends of the blanket shroud. Respectfully as they could manage, they staggered over to the cliff wall. Among the stones, as if gifted by Aslan himself, they found a shallow trough. It's dimensions ideal for their needs, in short order they had erected a small sepulcher to house Tem's remains.
Mosus waited for the others to finished tending to the injuries of his sled mate before asking, "Elder Grunram, as senior among us would you care to lead the eulogy for Master Tem?"
The sad little group shuffled over to line up in front of Tem's small mausoleum. The dwarf cradling his throbbing arm took a few steps further before turning to face the mourners.
"At times like these I dent be very good with words,' Grunram began, 'I could spend the live long day spinning tales about Tem that would... Well, that's best left for another time. I do however before all of you make this oath. I swear to you, from this day forth, I be doing all in ma' power to make Tem's dream of a free Narnia a reality."
His words met by nods of affirmation from the others.
Grunram turned to face the monument planning on offering up a silent prayer for Tem when unexpectedly he was jostled from behind. The flustered dwarf wheeled round to face the minotaur's back pressed against him. Kinoe seemed to have been dragging the carcass of a dead wolf across the snow as evidenced by a blood smeared path.
"!An wat' air Yea' doin now Ya Great Moth Eaten Throw Rug!," the dwarf fumed.
"Oh, I'm sorry Grunram. This...' Kinoe seemingly lost in thought said, 'this is something I feel need's to be done."
The dwarf again demanded to know, "What are Yea doin?"
The minotaur nodded with his chin toward Tem's burial mound. "The way I see's it is, that's the path Tem took to Aslan's country. I guess you could say, beyond it symbolically is the doorway leading to Tash - and I'm planning on ushering this lot to the gates of his kingdom," He finished in a low, dangerous sounding voice.
Grunram as old as he was still got goosebumps hearing the childhood fable of Tash.
The wolf's carcass heaved against the cliff wall made a hollow thud before dropping into a fissure behind Tem's bier.
"Besides,' Kinoe continued, 'when spring finally does come, do you really want to see Tem's garden defiled by the likes of these traitors?"
Looking around for support from the others in stopping this desecration proved fruitless. The look on their faces told Grunram he was in the minority on this point. His right arm complaining as he threw them into the air, he stormed off in the direction of the sled. 'A swig of whiskey and a bowl of tobac' would go good right now,' he thought.
Rummaging around in the castoff medical waste Grunram located the tapped keg of spirits. A nearby sound caught his attention drawing him over to the sleigh. He could see that Fain's head lull in a way that seemed to restrict his breathing. The firkin set down on the sleigh's deck, Grunram picked up the satyr's head cradling it in his hands trying to ease Fain's discomfort. Their faces mere inches apart an arrow of shame pierced the old dwarf's heart for having so unfairly judged the kid's character. Hadn't Fain, in the finest example of a scout's dedication to duty, prematurely sprung the Witch's trap and like as not saved most, if not all of their lives.
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Grunram feeling an ever deepening respect for Tem's bloodline averred, "Yea done good lad."
A little ways off, Azron leaned on Tem's bow with a look of inestimable fondness painted on his haggard face. "Is there anything I can do friend," he asked.
Grunram straightening, tried to wipe a phantom speck of dirt from his eye. "Shuren if yea look to the lad while I gather up some things, it'd be much appreciated," He said with a catch in his voice.
A smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, Azron replied. "Sure Grunram... sure."
The storm finally broke while Grunram was trudging down to the stack of jettisoned freight. Retrieving Fain's cloak and Tem's other gift to Midway village, the second firkin, he angled his way up to where all this havoc had begun. Picking up Tem's personal gift to him Grunram jammed the pouch of tobacco into one of the pockets of his leather jerkin.
The wind began to howl anew as the dwarf shuffled back over to the sleigh. Lashing the firkins to the deck with some rope, he waited while Merbos folded one of the remaining blankets into a pillow for Fain's head. They tucked the satyr's cloak around their unconscious charge in an effort to keep the chill at bay.
Kinoe and Tobruk arrived to take up position behind the doubletree with Merbos and the two fauns getting ready to push from behind. Grunram and the badger settled themselves on the deck of the sleigh poised to steady Fain's litter. They set off north, north for Midway village. North through the ever increasing storm. North with the wind streaming out of the ravine at their backs howling like a banshee.
The bloodied little troop pressed on ever northward. Northward not knowing, nor caring if they had known, that they had just fought the first skirmish of a battle that would decide the fate of their Narnia - forever.
...
The time is nigh, the stage is set. Soon, for good or ill, the destinies of The Child, The Witch and all the others will merge together in fulfillment of an ancient prophecy.