XII

GRACE

When Grace awoke the next morning there was a new spring in her step. Granted, it was slightly forced but Grace had taken Queen Susan's words to heart; there was no point sitting around crying all day, if she was going to be stuck here, she was going to make the most of it.

After all, what did she have back home that she couldn't have here? Apart from fast food, internet, and decent plumbing.

So when Casys had suggested that she meet with the Housekeeper, Grace had readily agreed to the trek. According to him, some sanctions had been altered by Queen Susan to allow her to the Eastern Gate. When Grace had asked why the Housekeeper could not come to see her directly, Casys had said, "She doesn't leave her tree too often, if she can help it."

She doesn't leave her… what? Grace had stared at him for a full minute before the Centaur pushed her in the direction of a new hallway. They walked in silence, which was unhelpful as it allowed Grace's curiosity to bubble beneath her skin.

There was a person who didn't leave a tree? Not only that but they didn't leave their tree. Did people own trees now? Given what she had seen so far of Narnia and their thoughts on things like slavery and the rights of beings, Grace thought this was a strange direction.

As Casys led their path, her eyes glossed over the tapestries on the walls. If she was allowed to traverse these halls again she would need to need to take some time and examine them closely. She'd never seen a tapestry before… or at least, the ones she had were made of simple printed linen.

These ones were plush works of art. Thick embroidery enveloped every square inch of material in meticulous loops of various colours. They passed pictures of woods, flowers, depictions of great parties and furious battles. Any golden thread in the tapestries was few and far between, and as Grace continued sighting more works of art, she noticed they were reserved for the same individual.

At least, she assumed it was the same individual. Judging by the shape and colour of the beast, it was a lion. The golden threads were woven amidst threads of sandy brown and bright blonde. At the head of the lion, the gold took on a life of its own in the shape of a circle around it's mane.

Grace vaguely recalled the shape and the meaning. She had seen something similar around the head of Christ in a church back home. Whomever the beast was, they were clearly revered by the Narnians. If she and Casys returned this way, she would ask him.

There was no time to stop and appreciate the art; Casys was moving at a steadfast pace ahead of her. Every so often he would turn back and huff as if to say, 'Move faster human', usually slowing a little to ensure she was keeping pace. She didn't fight him. The last thing either of them needed was a talking to from King Edmund.

When they breached the Eastern exit of the castle, Grace had to block the bright beams of morning sunlight with scrunched eyes. Her ears were coated in the sound of waves and bird songs.

Grace sighed happily, eyes opening to a sprawling garden of overgrown flowers and trees. Her lungs filled with the first traces of crisp, fresh air she'd breathed in weeks. She trailed behind Casys on the narrow grey path which cut through the foliage in cracked, uneven cobblestones.

It was beautiful – no, beautiful was not quite the word for it. It was breathtaking. Everything in this garden moved, sang and breathed beauty like none ever experienced. Even the dirt seemed to shimmer in the sunlight.

Grace continued to follow the Centaur's sure stride down the narrow sunlit path. Her light eyes flickering haphazardly at the colourful scenery around her. The foliage was a mirage of blues, pinks, whites and greens. Some flowers big and bright juxtaposed to the bushels of small wildflowers which grew persistently in the spaces.

Time seemed to slow down in a gold hue haze and Grace found herself wishing she could stay in that garden forever, gazing at the flowers and inhaling their honey like scent. She thought she had seen her fill of beauty, until she and Casys rounded the corner.

All thoughts left her mind as her feet stumbled from cobblestone to soft grass and she stared openly at the sight of a large sprawling oak tree. It stood steadily from its thick trunk all the way to the tips of its branches which formed in a dome of beautiful green. The sun tipped flowers were merely breathtaking in comparison to it.

The bark was cracked and mossed over in various shapes; some startlingly looked like faces which had been etched into the bark of the thick trunk. Grace followed the bark lines from the sprawling roots, up the trunk base and into the great oak's highest branches. Eyes flitting between the thousands of face like shapes that was held in the chipping, mossy wood. She thought this tree must be very old to have seen and remembered thousands of faces.

Her eyes traced the branches above; how did one tell if a tree was old? Weren't there rings within the base of the trunk which told you? Grace couldn't imagine cutting the it down to ascertain such a thing. Surely someone would know.

"It's beautiful," Grace breathed, her voice catching on the subtle wind, "How long has it stood here?"

Casys didn't answer. He only looked solemnly towards the branches as they waved in the breeze.

Grace followed his sight, staring unseeingly into the darkness of the shade…

Until the shade moved.

A figure was descending towards them in a graceful dance, their movements looking similar to the branches that bent in languidly in the wind. As the figure got lower and lower and their skin was hit by the golden hue of the morning sun, Grace found that she had difficulty in telling the figure apart from the bark of the tree. Their skin was the same warm brown and if Grace squinted, she could see the sunlight hit it's uneven wrinkled texture.

When at last the creature landed on the grass with a soft thump, Grace realised it wasn't wrinkles at all; it was the very same colour and texture as the bark from the tree. It was as if it and the oak tree were one being; an extension of soul that was both fixed in place and free to roam.

Their hair tumbled in tresses of soft green moss that were filled with the flowers Grace had gazed upon just moments ago. The creatures body was covered in a harder moss, trailing over most of the bark from their elbows to their knees. Grace supposed it was a form of clothing, yet it did not look as civilised as Lucy's old dress which constricted her own skin.

At the thought, she decided a dress would make the most prudent first purchase. As soon as she obtained her pay for the weeks work, of course.

The creature braced itself against the stable trunk of the oak tree before turning to Casys and Grace. The latter of whom attempted not to stare openly at their face.

Rather than the smooth human skin that Grace was accustomed to, it seemed that the bark continued across her cheeks and face. The tiles were as small as snake scales but they were unmistakably the brown jagged shape of Oak bark.

Grace assumed the smaller increments of bark allowed for expression in their face; this was confirmed when upon discreet further inspection, she noticed that there were faint creases in the texture where a human may have smile lines.

The creature and Casys conversed mildly, his baritone voice meeting their deep whistly tune in slight bitonality. They spoke briefly of the weather and a birds nest which was apparently nestled high in the branches of the tree.

Grace squinted at the shaded branches but could not see anything of the sort in the darkness.

"This is Grace," Casys introduced her, snapping Grace's mind from her search, "She is from the land of Spare Oom."

"Oh!" The bark creature whistled. Their eyes widened and eyes of shimmering brown stared at Grace in interest, "The land of Spare Oom, you say? How intriguing."

Grace tried to smile; but was sure it presented as a grimace. She wasn't sure if intriguing was the precise word. Infuriating? Definitely. Unlucky? Most likely. She gave a sidelong look to Casys who caught on.

"Grace, this is Hellabora," He said, gesturing with a slight bow to the bark skinned creature, "She is the Dryad of this tree and the keeper of Cair Paravel."

Oh! A dryad, of course! After seeing centaurs, talking beasts and fauns, Grace was surprised it had taken her this long to put two-and-two together.

"It's nice to meet you," Grace said with a pleasant smile.

"Pleasures all mine," Hellabora returned, reaching into a nook of the oak tree with a long, cracked arm, "I'd venture that you're here for your pay?"

Grace nodded expectantly; her eyes drawn to the hole in the tree. The Dryad was now up to her shoulder in it. It was quite comical and reminded Grace of an old movie where a woman produced oversized items from a small carpet bag.

"Here we are," Hellabora said, producing three small gold coins. She held out her fist expectantly and deposited them into Grace's eager hands.

Grace inspected the coins; they were round in shape but a little misshapen at the edges like a wax seal. It made sense, she supposed, machines to perfect duplicable shapes were unheard of in medieval times. She examined the sides, running her finger over the stamped face of a proud lion.

A lion? Grace wondered if it was the same lion that was outlined in gold thread or perhaps if Narnian culture just had an appreciation for lions in general. She'd have to ask Lucy later.

"That is three Lions," Hellabora noted, "Normally staff would receive four, however, with the cost of keeping your rooms in Cair Paravel…"

Grace nodded appreciatively, "I understand."

Hellabora's kind eyes looked relieved, "Three Lions should be sufficient to see to your personal needs apart from lodging and food. There is a market just south of the Gate Bridge with good people and fair bargains to assist you."

If only three coins would cover so much, then Grace imagined that the economy in Narnia was doing astoundingly well.

"How does the money work here?" She asked.

"Each 'Lion' is equal to 25 silver 'Trees'," Hellabora explained patiently.

"I see," Grace said thoughtfully whilst turning over the coins in her fingertips, "And how much might a dress cost?"

Hellabora paused, "I cannot say for sure. Queen Susan generally handles the accounts for clothing as my experience is," She stopped to gesture to her moss-covered body, "Limited."

Grace felt herself flush, "Oh. I'm sorry."

The Dryad waved off her apology, "Don't be. I handle all other matters of Cair Paravel; the assumption is understandable."

Grace's face brightened appreciative smile.

"Hellabora has been the caretaker of the Cair and grounds for nearly 200 years," Casys added, "Not a soul knows the land better."

200 years looking after a castle. An empty castle at that – unless others had resided in it before.

"I thought the Kings and Queens had reigned for just over thirteen years?" Grace asked curiously, "Was there a predecessor?"

"Not in Cair Paravel," The Dryad edged, "I have maintained it while awaiting the arrival of our Kings and Queens."

Grace was confused, "But how did you know they would arrive?"

"It was foretold," Casys boomed in that story-telling voice of his, "The stars promised an end to an eternal winter. They promised a new era of peace and prosperity under the reign of our Kings and Queens."

"And that promise was delivered upon," Hellabora agreed, "For there has never been such an era of peace than that under the rule of High King Peter, Queen Susan, King Edmund and Queen Lucy."

Grace paused thoughtfully, "I suppose all I hear about is this 'Great Peace' the country is in."

Hellabora nodded solemnly, "By the will of Aslan, the Great Peace will remain until the stars fall from the heavens."

"A night which we hope is far away," A new voice entered.

The three whipped around to the shining face of Queen Lucy, who was smiling at them from the end of the pathway.

Grace stared dumbly for a second as Casys and Hellabora bowed lowly behind her, "Your majesty," They chorused respectfully.

She attempted to follow their lead but almost tripped when a stem of grass tangled around her ankle.

Lucy laughed, picking up her friend at the elbow and sliding her arm through it companionably, "Good morning. I came to see how the wood rot is faring, Hellabora," She chirped; her overcast eyes surveying the old tree closely.

Hellabora patted the trunk fondly, "It's healing steadily, your majesty. Cair Paravel may have to put up with us for years yet."

"I would hope so," Lucy beamed, also patting the coarse bark, "Cair Paravel would be quite destitute without your stewardship. I imagine Susan would collapse under the stress within a week."

Hellabora bowed deeply, thanking Lucy for the compliment.

Lucy shot Grace a conspiratorial smile, "If your transaction is complete, I will steal Grace's company."

Hellabora only smiled in acquiescence, waving cheerfully as Lucy tugged Grace away.