A/N: ️Oh well—screw posting days. Chapter 23 is here!
As always, thank you for reading and for every single comment, scream, theory, or whisper you send my way.
All rights to the world and characters of Narnia belong to C.S. Lewis and his estate.
Chapter 23 - Valley of Traps
Edmund's POV
The wind howled through the valley.
The rocky terrain was uneven beneath his horse's hooves, the path narrowing as they advanced deeper into the mountain pass. The further they rode, the heavier the silence became.
They were being watched.
Edmund could feel it.
His grip tightened on the reins, his gaze scanning the ridges above. The dwarves had a lead on them—too much time to prepare. Every step forward felt like walking straight into a noose.
Ahead, Peter rode in silence, his jaw tight. Erasmus kept pace beside him, his face grim. Casio brought up the rear, his dark eyes sharp as they swept the cliffs above them.
No one spoke.
They had pushed themselves too hard.
Peter's face was set in stone, but the dark circles under his eyes betrayed the weight of exhaustion. Edmund's hands gripped his sword hilt with rigid control, dirt and dried blood crusted along the edges of his bracers. Lucy held her bow in a white-knuckled grip, trembling slightly—whether from cold or nerves, it was impossible to tell. Eleanor's cloak clung damply to her shoulders, soaked with sweat and mist, but her eyes were steady, locked forward, focused.
They weren't ready for another fight.
But the fight was ready for them.
An arrow sliced through the air.
It struck the ground inches from Erasmus' horse.
A split second of silence.
Then—
"AMBUSH!"
Chaos erupted.
Dwarves poured from the ridges, dark figures moving between the boulders. Arrows rained down. The clash of steel rang through the pass. Horses reared and screamed.
The path behind them exploded as a boulder came crashing down.
The way back was gone.
They were trapped.
James' POV
Inside the cave, the echoes of battle reached them.
James' heart pounded.
They had come.
His captors were distracted, their attention pulled toward the cavern's entrance. The warlord barked orders, sending more dwarves outside to reinforce the ambush.
James barely breathed.
This was his chance.
Beside him, a young Narnian soldier barely clung to consciousness. His wrists were bound, his face pale.
James leaned in, whispering. "Can you move?"
The soldier groaned. His head rolled to the side—but his knife was still strapped to his boot.
James didn't hesitate.
He twisted his bound hands downward, hooking his fingers around the blade's hilt. It was slow, frustrating work. The ropes bit into his skin. The warlord was still speaking—too close—James felt the sweat on his neck.
Finally—the knife slipped free.
James cut his bonds.
Then—he freed the others.
A soldier grabbed his arm. "What now?"
James' chest rose and fell rapidly.
"Now we fight."
Edmund's POV
The battle had turned into a desperate struggle.
A horse collapsed nearby—an arrow buried deep in its chest. Edmund barely avoided the falling body, pivoting just in time to block a heavy blow.
Peter fought like a man possessed, every strike precise, lethal. Nearby, Susan and Lucy held the rear—arrows flying with terrifying accuracy.
And then—
Erasmus took a hit.
A dwarf's axe struck his horse. The animal reared violently. Erasmus lost his grip—he crashed onto the rocky ground.
Eleanor ran.
Straight into the chaos.
"Eleanor!" Edmund growled, cutting down a dwarf as he pushed toward her, but she had already dropped to her knees beside Erasmus.
A dwarf approached them, blade raised.
Edmund lunged forward.
Steel met steel. He barely managed to block the blow, but another attacker was faster—
Pain exploded as he was shoved backward. He hit the ground hard, breath knocked from his lungs. He was next to Eleanor now. Close enough to see the way she had thrown herself between Erasmus and the fight without a second thought.
Kneeling between life and death.
Lucy turned just in time to see the dwarf raise his axe.
Her breath caught. Her fingers trembled against the bowstring.
The dwarf smiled.
Like he knew she wouldn't do it.
She loosed an arrow.
It struck the dwarf clean through the throat.
The body hit the ground.
Lucy stood frozen, her bow still raised, her breath shallow, sharp, unsteady.
The dwarf coughed. His hands clutched at the shaft lodged in his throat. He tried to speak—only blood came forth.
Lucy stared at him, horror and disbelief widening her eyes.
The dwarf's gaze locked onto hers.
A look of anger. Of fear. And then—resignation.
Lucy's stomach turned violently. Her fingers loosened on her bow.
Edmund was there before she could fall apart.
"Lucy, focus." His voice was low but firm. "We don't have time."
She nodded once. Not fine. But still standing.
James' POV
The fight inside the cave was fast and brutal.
James dodged a wild swing, the weight of his stolen blade unfamiliar but steady in his grip. He wasn't a knight. He wasn't a warrior.
But he was a survivor.
A soldier beside him collapsed—James barely caught him before he hit the ground.
They weren't strong enough for this.
He had freed them, but most of them were still weak, still wounded.
This was going to fail.
Then—
A new voice cut through the chaos.
"For Narnia!"
James' head snapped up.
From the darkness of the tunnels, figures emerged.
Narnians.
Diácano led the charge.
The centaur's blade glinted in the firelight.
James' breath caught. Reinforcements.
They still had a chance.
Edmund's POV
The battle outside was turning.
They had fought too hard, too desperately, too fiercely to die here.
Eleanor wasn't dead.
Erasmus, bleeding but alive, pulled himself up.
Lucy, still shaking, forced herself to keep moving.
Susan had placed herself between Eleanor and the next wave of attackers.
Peter fought beside Casio, their blades whirling in deadly arcs.
Then—the cave exploded open.
James.
He burst into the open, sword in hand. Behind him, Diácano and the surviving prisoners charged.
A shift in the air.
The dwarves realized—they were losing.
James' POV
James barely had time to register Edmund's face before the warlord's voice boomed over the battlefield.
"Kill the boy!"
James' blood ran cold.
He barely had time to react.
A shadow loomed over him.
A blade swung toward his ribs.
Somewhere, someone shouted his name.
Move. His mind screamed it, but his body was too slow.
The impact came hard, fast—
And then—everything went black.