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Chapter Text

Edmund looked out from the balcony of his room to see Lucy, Peter, and Lilygloves, the chief of the moles who were planting an orchard outside the gate of Cair Paravel discussing something. He was half-tempted to go down and join them, but he’d only just gotten away from a long audience with some disgruntled Marsh-Wiggles from the north of Narnia. He wasn’t sure he properly had the energy to go out and speak with his siblings.

Things had, lately, been going extraordinarily smoothly for Narnia. They’d finally managed to capture, kill, or subdue the last remnants of the followers of the White Witch so that the whole country from the Lantern Waste to Cair Paravel lived in relatively undisturbed freedom and tranquility.

Naturally, this was the time when they would be most vulnerable to outside attacks. And, predictably, one was already surfacing. The Marsh-Wiggles, for all that their dire predictions of doom and destruction were far-fetched—in kind terms—had a genuine grievance in this case. The northern giants were encroaching on Narnian lands.

Edmund removed the gold circlet he wore and massaged his temples with his hands. Just when the politics had begun to unsnarl themselves, things became complicated again.

He considered, briefly, taking a nap. But his consideration was made brief because a sharp knock on his door interrupted his thoughts.

“Come in!” Edmund called.

“Sire,” said a small dormouse, named Dilly, who came in, “Her Majesty, Queen Susan, has sent me to ask for your help in planning the reception for the ambassadors of Calormen tomorrow.”

“Drat,” Edmund said, snatching the gold circlet up again. He settled it on his head and followed Dilly to the Great Hall where Susan and the black cat, Gus, who was in charge of the household staff, were working on plans for the next day.

“Oh thank goodness you’re here, Edmund,” Susan said. “I desperately need your help.”

“You know I’m rubbish at decorating, Su. I don’t know why you asked me here,” Edmund told her.

“You are excellent at eating, and that’s the help I need,” Susan answered.

Edmund gave her an odd look. “Susan. Why are you so worried about this delegation? A ‘spoiled, selfish, Southern kingdom with nothing but conquest on their mind?’ Those were your exact words, were they not?”

“Don’t you see, Ed?” Susan pressed. “That’s why this whole reception has to be perfect. Their whole stay. We should give them no reason to go home less than satisfied with everything they see.”

“No,” Edmund answered slowly, shaking his head. “I do not see at all.”

“They think of us as a barbarian people with no civilization or learning. So, if we impress them, then perhaps—”

“They will return home thinking exactly as they did before, but they will then say we are the ‘clever barbarians’ or the ‘barbarians with good food’ or the ‘barbarians with a beautiful home.’ No matter how well prepared we are for their visit, they will always look down on us,” Edmund assured her, unable to avoid thinking how completely he agreed with that assessment. He had been wondering, ever since they’d received the request to visit, what Calormen could intend for this meeting. In the end, he’d decided to simply accept the adventure that Aslan sent them.

Susan’s face fell.

“Still, that’s no reason not to try our very best,” Edmund allowed, quickly, hoping to stave off her unhappiness. “What did you want me to eat?”

“Try the pavenders,” Susan told him. She talked him through their menu, by which time, Lucy and Peter had returned from their conference at the gate.

“Well, that’s the apple trees taken care of,” Lucy said to her brother and sister.

“Good,” Edmund broke in before Susan could start on her preparation woes, “because there’s an emissary from the Marsh-Wiggles here.”

“Oh, pooh. Not those wet blankets,” Lucy sighed. Peter and Susan didn’t say anything, but both looked less than enthused.

Edmund grinned wryly. “Normally, I’d agree with you, but this time, they had a legitimate complaint.”

“Oh?” asked Peter, suddenly sounding more interested.

Edmund briefly outlined the situation with the northern giants, and Peter frowned deeply. “The giants will, no doubt, send an emissary of their own to counter the report of the Marsh-Wiggles.”

“No doubt, but unless they can prove that the Marsh-Wiggles are the aggressors here, I don’t know how we could support their actions,” Edmund sighed.

“And I had hoped we’d be done with all this fighting nonsense,” Susan sighed. “We just rousted out the last of the Witch’s brood.”

“But it’s worse than that, isn’t it?” Lucy sighed. “Of course it is. This is such rotten timing!”

“What do you mean?” Susan said, thoroughly bewildered.

“Oh, Susan, the giants’ envoy is sure to arrive while the Calormenes are still here,” Lucy pointed out. “And you know Calormenes have enough trouble with the talking beasts and the dwarves and the fauns and such. Only think what they’ll be sure to when walking, talking, very large giants come strolling up and demand an audience. And we’ll be forced to give them one, you know, because we can hardly refuse them now. They’ll think we’re practically driven from pillar to post by the nations surrounding us, and be terrified half-witless besides.”

“There must be something we can do about it,” Susan sighed.

“At the moment, we’ll have to stay to your plan, Su,” Peter said. “Keep the Calormenes occupied and distracted. If we impress them with our court perhaps they’ll think cautiously of us. Hopefully they’ll decide that we wouldn’t provide lavish entertainments for guests unless our country was well-provided for.”

Edmund shook his head. “Peter, there’s better preparation than that, surely.”

“If you have a suggestion, please say so. If we can get through a visit from the Calormenes without making ourselves look like spineless weaklings, I would very much like to do it,” said the High King, sounding a bit snappish.

Edmund sighed, but held his tongue. Susan said, “I’d better get back to work.”

“I suppose I’ll handle court today,” Lucy offered.

“You’ll need a second hand,” Edmund said.

“And I shall begin preparing a response to the giant’s envoy,” Peter sighed. “I hate writing these sorts of things.”

Edmund nodded. He and Lucy hurried back to their rooms before spending the rest of the morning into the early afternoon in court, seeing to disputes and grievances. They were both exhausted before they finally got out. Lucy left to go first to the kitchens and then to Tumnus’ home. He’d taken ill, and from the day he’d first felt feverish, there had not been one day to pass by where Lucy had not gone to tend to him. Edmund, left to his own devices, spent the afternoon playing chess with the centaur Haldring, who was one of the few at Cair Paravel that could beat him anymore.

And while there was no quarreling at dinner—in fact, no one even behaved as if they were cross with one another—Edmund and his siblings were not entirely in tune with one another. As they often did, the four of them meandered into their private sitting room that night but no one spoke or interacted. Susan was embroidering a handkerchief, Lucy read a book, and Peter continued working on his replies to the giants. It was always best to have several replies ready for several different contingencies.

Edmund simply sat in his chair, watching the stars and thinking. Every so often he would glance back to his siblings, none of whom seemed to want to make eye contact with one another.

Finally he sighed. “I’m for bed. Good night everyone.”

The older two nodded, but Lucy stood and said, “I think I’ll follow.”

As they headed off to their rooms, Lucy said, “Edmund, if the Calormenes find us acting like this…”

“There will be no salvaging their visit, I know,” Edmund sighed.

“What do we do?” Lucy asked.

“We’ll have to get up tomorrow and put tonight behind us,” Edmund said.

Lucy frowned. “That’s not a very good plan.”

“It seems we’re swimming in bad plans lately,” Edmund agreed.

Lucy shook her head with a slight twinkle in her eye. “Don’t worry, Ed. You’ve got a surprise coming tomorrow that I think will help us out.”

And with that pronouncement, Lucy marched off.

Edmund stared after his sister with a sigh. Hopefully this plan of hers would turn out to be helpful.

When he had been younger, Edmund had disliked dressing up. Not because formal Narnian clothes were uncomfortable—in fact the opposite was much truer—but because he’d never especially liked minding his manners.

Having grown up, he still disliked dressing up, for mostly the same reasons. Lately it seemed he only dressed up for people he needed to impress but did not particularly wish to see. If the Calormenes had stated their purpose for this visit, he would feel much better, but as it was he had no idea what they wanted and felt very behind-hand as a result.

He finished pulling on his boots and strode out the door after a cursory glance in the mirror to ensure his tunic was not on backwards, or something similar.

He ran smack into Lucy in the hallway.

“Ed! Good morning!” she said with a laugh.

“Hello, Lu,” he returned.

“Join me for breakfast?” she asked.

He offered her his arm, and the two of them followed several flights of mostly empty stairwells to the kitchens.

“You look lovely, by the way,” he observed as they snuck in the back of the palace kitchen. “I’ll never understand how you get your hair done up that way, though.”

Lucy’s golden hair had been pulled back into a shining bun of braids and curls with small seed pearls threaded into it.

She laughed. “Neither will I. Selene is responsible,” she said, naming the dryad who often attended her.

“Your majesties!” said Rosebiter, the badger who ran the kitchen. She seemed a bit surprised, but recovered very quickly, and ordered them some fresh buns and jam.

“Good morning, Rosebiter,” Edmund said. He and Lucy sat down at a table that was set back away from the main flow of traffic.

“Well,” Lucy finally said, “today is the day. What do you suppose they want?”

“I wish I knew. I can not like that they have no stated purpose for this visit,” Edmund sighed.

“They want to unbalance us,” Lucy nodded.

“It’s working.”

“Oh, Edmund! You can’t give in so easily. They’re not even here, yet!”

He sighed, and resisted the urge to bury his face in his hands.

“Edmund, you’re very thoughtful,” Lucy said slowly, “and of everyone, you tend to be the most diplomatic. But with all four of us here, you are not carrying the whole burden of uncovering the purpose to this visit.”

He looked up and then leaned over and kissed her cheek. “Thank you.”

The two of them rose and left the kitchen to enter the breakfast room where they found their older siblings eating the same meal they had just finished, but in silence. Lucy flashed him a dark look, but neither of them could say anything. The odd tenseness from the previous night was not dispelled.

Just as they were about to come to an awkward and quiet end to their breakfast, Edmund heard the noise of hooves in the hallway outside the room. He looked up just in time to see Tumnus enter the breakfast room and offer a bow with a slightly flourish to Peter.

Lucy stood and offered him her hands. “Tumnus!” she said happily.

Edmund mouthed, “The surprise?” Lucy grinned.

“Your majesties,” he said, “I have been in such excellent care that I awoke this morning and found myself entirely better. I have returned to take up my duties. And not a moment too soon, I think.”

Edmund took a look around the room. Tumnus’ arrival had had just the effect he suspected Lucy had hoped it would. Peter and Susan had both relaxed, and all three of his siblings seemed a bit more hopeful.

“As usual,” Peter said, “your timing is excellent.” Peter outlined the situation with the Calormenes and Edmund summed up his interview with the Marsh-Wiggles.

“So, we are expecting the envoy from the giants to arrive some time during the visit from the Calormenes,” Edmund said, finishing his summary.

“That is a problem,” Tumnus agreed.

“Unfortunately, we have no more time to discuss it,” Peter sighed. Dilly had just entered and appeared to waiting for an opportunity to say something. The five of them turned and looked expectantly at the little dormouse.

Dilly coughed and said, “Your majesties. It is almost time.”

“Thank you, Dilly,” Peter said. He strode out with Susan at his side. Lucy and Tumnus followed, already deep in conversation. Edmund smiled at the little mouse, and gave her a nod. She gave a smile in return before scampering off to her other duties.

The Grand Throne Room was one of Edmund’s favorite rooms in Cair Paravel. It was a lovely, airy room, made out of white stones with enormous windows on all sides. On the far end was a raised dais with their four thrones on it, of course, but on the end from which a visitor would enter, from one of the sides, the windows stretched all the way from the ceiling to the floor and opened directly out onto an enormous balcony with steps that led straight down to the beach. During the more boring interviews, Edmund sometimes imagined running straight out the doors and jumping on a ship for the Lone Islands. Today the Splendor Hyaline was anchored just off-shore, looking ever-so-inviting. The weather was warm, so the breezes that blew in were fresh and smelled sweet. Garlands of flowers had been twined around the columns at the edges of the room by wood nymphs. The center aisle of the room was left open, but on either side, there was a large crowd of people, all of whom were involved in Narnian politics in one way or another. Centaurs, nymphs, fauns, talking beasts, and the occasional human all milled around, talking to one another about the latest news. A few corners were speculating on the reason behind the visit from the Marsh-Wiggles, which had, thus far, not become public knowledge.

Edmund shook his head, laughing under his breath. Susan was speaking with Gus about something. The cat was sitting on the edge of her throne, looking her steadily in the eye as cats sometimes do. Peter, beside him, was talking to Kerrow, a leopard. It sounded as though they were making plans, in case it came to war with the giants. At his other hand, Lucy and Tumnus were cheerfully chatting.

“Is something wrong, sire?” Haldring asked from beside Edmund’s throne.

“I believe we have set these Calormenes up for a surprise,” Edmund answered.

“Sire?”

“Haldring, it is well-known that the Calormenes hold talking beasts and other Narnian citizens in distaste. Yet here we are, each attended by a Narnian of exactly the sort that will most upset them, with a court filled to the brim with citizens of the same,” Edmund answered with a laugh.

There was a deep silence and finally Haldring said, “Sire, may I speak freely?”

“Of course,” Edmund answered.

“Then, sir, I do not give two figs for how uncomfortable I cause these Calormenes to be. They have come in to our country. I shall not pretend to regret my own existence anywhere, but least of all in my own nation,” Haldring said.

Edmund smiled. “Oh, very well spoken.”

The door on the far end opened and everyone on the dais—including Gus the cat—looked up with a well-rehearsed expression of expectation and a very slight challenge on their face. This look was one that they had all—except for Gus and Kerrow, who, being cats, this sort of thing probably came naturally—practiced until they got it perfect, daring their visitors to impress them if they could. And where their attention turned, the attention of all the court followed. When the entire room turned to look at you and fell silent at once, it could make one feel very on-the-spot indeed.

The Calormenes entered. Three men, who were no longer young but not yet elderly, entered first, each followed by two boys. All of them were grandly and elaborately dressed after the high Calormene fashion. Edmund could see Lucy’s and Susan’s hearts melting at the sight of the children, and even Peter’s expression softened a bit. Edmund barely restrained himself from rolling his eyes. All their careful, intimidating posturing was going to be undone by a few youngsters. He suspected they were some of the most intelligent children in all of Calormen, and were likely students of the tarkaans of this envoy. In all probability, Edmund imagined their advice would be as intelligent and reasoned as that of most adults.

Their guests halted their approach at a decorous distance and bowed in the elaborate Calormene style. Even the boys managed flawless bows, and Edmund’s opinion of them was cemented. These children were not strangers to formal court manners.

Peter said, in his best, most formal, “high king” voice, “Narnia welcomes you, friends from Calormen.”

The tarkaan in the center inclined his head in acknowledgement. “O High King, beloved and favored of the powerful and fearsome gods of the north,” he began.

Do not roll your eyes, do not roll your eyes, do not roll your eyes, Edmund inwardly chanted.

“Know that I am Irukan Tarkaan, and have been sent to you on a mission from our most beloved friend, Rasheed Tisroc—may he live forever. I am come, with Arvish Tarkaan and Ravid Tarkaan, my most esteemed and knowledgeable companions—” And here the other two tarkaans bowed, only half as elaborately as the first time. “—To ask your majesties, in your inestimable beneficence to consider our proposal.”

Edmund blinked. Peter appeared to be considering a reply, but before he could speak, Irukan began a new paragraph.

“In the days in which our beloved Tisroc—may his days on this earth be without end—began his most exalted reign in Calormen, your nation was ruled by an enchantress of high degree, who laid many evil spells upon this place and caused unending winter. With her we had no political discourses.”

“I should think not,” Lucy muttered under her breath.

“Since that time, we have observed the overthrow of her reign by your most excellent and reverend majesties. We have watched the course of your reign and have seen you grow in the favor of your people. Moreover, you are in excellent graces with that lovely country called Archenland and are in all ways most revered by all who encounter you.

“It is for these reasons that the ever-living Tisroc desires and proposes to bring our two great nations into closer relations. To accomplish this end we are sent to treat with your high majesties regarding a marriage between Prince Rabadash of Calormen and Queen Susan of Narnia.”

For the first time in a very long while, Edmund was completely and utterly speechless. By the looks of it, so were all the Narnians. Susan, especially.

Peter recovered first. “We will happily receive you as our guests. And hear all the proposals the Tisroc has sent you to speak on.”

“If we may trespass on the kindness of your majesty one moment further,” said the tarkaan who had been identified as Arvish, in a wholly different and much less elevated tone, “there is one matter that I believe we must mention immediately.”

Edmund smirked inwardly. Irukan was going to play the high-and-mighty negotiator then, with Arvish coming along after to “save the day” with his more personable style. This probably left Ravid to take on the role of hard-line negotiator if it ever came down to that. It was a clever way to set things up.

“What is that?” asked Peter.

“Because this alliance is of paramount importance to the Tisroc—may he live forever, and because of our customs, Prince Rabadash, son of the Tisroc, has planned to join us himself, in two more days—provided your majesties permit, of course. It is only due to pressing matters in our kingdom that he did not accompany us to begin with,” Arvish said.

Peter glanced at Susan who nodded. He turned to Edmund and Lucy. Edmund glanced at Lucy himself, who also nodded. Edmund frowned thoughtfully. He wasn’t entirely certain he wanted to entertain this proposal, but he was highly skeptical of Susan’s actually accepting Rabadash, and he was curious if there was anything else under the surface here. The only way to find out would be to hear out the Calormene delegation.

He gave Peter a nod.

“You have our permission,” Peter said. “Indeed, we accept with a glad heart,” he added after a moment.

Edmund glanced over, forcing himself to look interested and not astonished. What on earth was Peter up to?

“We can not be anything but anxious to meet your prince, and will devise some method of celebration to honor his visit.”

Edmund looked back at the Calormenes, who did not appear overly excited about this proposal but were hardly in a position to refuse.

“Your majesty is very kind,” Irukan said after a moment.

“We thank you gladly, sir.” Peter stood. “I hereby declare this day’s royal court to be open.”

The Calormenes bowed again and were gracefully swept to the side of the room by several attendants.

“Well, that was interesting,” Lucy murmured.

“It’s good to hear they had no political ties to the White Witch, though,” Edmund said.

Lucy smothered a laugh.

Chapter Text

Edmund and Lucy were unable to carry on any further conversation, as their attention was quickly commanded by the next visitors to court. In fact, it wasn’t until that evening, when they had all retired to their sitting room that Edmund finally had a chance to compare notes with his brother.

“A celebration?” Edmund asked, as soon as they closed the door.

“I know it sounded a bit off-the-cuff,” Peter said, “but we can hardly let Rabadash traipse through without some sort of party.”

“True,” Susan said with a shrug.

Edmund crossed the room to the fireplace as Peter added, “Besides, it will, of course, be a strategic thing. Hopefully, by that point, we’ll have some better idea of what they want. If we need to talk to any of them alone, a celebratory setting would be the perfect excuse.”

Lucy’s eyebrows went up. “Peter, that is altogether devious.”

“Thank you, Lucy.”

Susan looked out the window. “This is a disaster.”

“Not quite yet,” Lucy assured her. “But, Su, please don’t take this poorly. What can they possibly want?”

“Surely it isn’t just to have Rabadash marry Susan, you mean?” Peter asked.

“And all that blather about better political relations,” Susan agreed. “Why would they care? They’re enormous compared to us, with a larger army. And all our trade routes to nations farther south go through them. There’s nothing they could possibly want from us, is there?”

“We have a better navy,” Peter mused.

“And we’ve certainly explored more,” Lucy agreed.

“They want to conquer Narnia,” Edmund said.

His three siblings turned to stare at him.

“Don’t look so surprised,” Edmund said. “It’s what they’ve wanted for a long time. And you know this. Naturally they’re going to want to conquer us. Regardless of their short-term goals for this encounter, we would be well-advised to bear in mind at all times that they have come into this country looking on it as already their rightful property. And on us as temporary and unwanted caretakers of it.”

Nobody looked happy at that. Then, unexpectedly, Peter grinned. “Well, then. Obviously we need to demonstrate to them that taking us on in battle would be a rather large undertaking. We should hold a tournament to celebrate Rabadash’s visit.”

Edmund blinked. “Now there is a smashing idea. Peter, that’s brilliant! Especially if we open things up to centaurs, bears, and unicorns… Good grief, they’ll never know what hit them.”

“Be sure to include an archery contest,” Lucy said. “It would be good to let Susan demonstrate her skill.”

Susan smiled. As much as she disliked fighting (and her dislike was very intense), she was immensely proud of her skill with a bow.

Peter’s smile turned a little feral.

The next two days were taken up with negotiations about what specific political agreements would accompany a theoretical wedding between Susan and Rabadash. Edmund argued very strenuously in favor of Calormene disclosure of military strength and armaments. The Calormene ambassadors said this was an impossible request. In turn, they asked for a dowry so large it essentially came down to a Narnian tribute to Calormen. Edmund and Peter both objected on the grounds that dowries were not part of Narnian marriage customs. On the whole, the only good thing accomplished was that Edmund’s hypothesis about which tarkaan would take on which role was proved correct.

Susan and Lucy were no less frustrated and annoyed than Peter and Edmund, although for different reasons. By combining the negotiations with a marriage proposal, the Calormenes had neatly shut Susan out of the proceedings, and while Lucy could have joined in if she’d insisted, they all agreed it would not have been politic. This left Peter and Edmund to keep their sisters up-to-date and forced them to guess what their input would be during negotiations.

The evening before Rabadash’s arrival, Edmund found himself, much to his dismay, actually ranting in front of his siblings in their private chamber.

“We have been rather neatly divided from one another,” he said. “Lucy, Susan…Peter and I have had a rather humbling revelation in the past two days. I never realized how much we depended on your voices in negotiations until they weren’t there. I have always known you to be thoughtful and wise, both of you, but I never appreciated how much until these past two days. I haven’t thanked either of you near enough.”

Susan gave a rueful smile. “To have our heretofore unappreciated skills revealed under these circumstances is rather unfortunate.”

“It’s nice to hear all the same,” Lucy said, much more cheerfully. “Buck up, Su. Tomorrow you’ll get to meet Rabadash in person, and you’ll be able to devise a whole list of reasons to turn him down.”

Susan laughed at that. “True. Tomorrow will be a good day.”

After such a pronouncement, Edmund was unsurprised when the next day started off miserably, simply to be contrary. Since the kitchen staff would be so busy that day, Edmund didn’t dare sneak into the kitchens for breakfast again. When Edmund did sit down in their usual breakfast room, Susan was pacing around so frantically that he couldn’t enjoy anything he ate in any case. Then one of the badgers trotted in with a message from Archenland. Prince Corin was scheduled to come and visit in nearly a week-and-a-half. The message was essentially a request to know if they should reschedule. Edmund would have thought they ought to, but Susan, who was very close to Corin after the queen of Archenland had died, wouldn’t hear of it. Peter nearly got angry at this, given everything else that had suddenly become urgent, and it took all of Edmund’s and Lucy’s diplomatic skills put together to prevent things from turning into a proper fight. This distracted Edmund so completely that it was only as he was leaving that he realized he’d had nothing for breakfast but one sausage and a glass of apple juice.

Therefore, it was tired, hungry, and irritable, that Edmund arrived in the throne room to welcome Prince Rabadash. When Lucy sat down beside him, looking fresh as a flower still covered in dew, he found he had only a terse greeting for her.

“Not your best morning, then, Ed?” she asked with a smile.

“I don’t understand how you can be so cheerful,” Edmund sighed. “Everything has been going wrong since Mr. Tumnus turned up sick.”

“Edmund,” Lucy scolded. “For all that may be true, now is not the time.”

Edmund swallowed a cross reply and tried to focus on the fact that Lucy was right.

If the Grand Throne Room had looked good for the Calormene ambassadors, it looked glorious for the arrival of Prince Rabadash. The pillars were twined with garlands of flowers again, but more hung from the ceiling, which Edmund guessed had to have been placed there by some of the talking birds, as he couldn’t imagine anyone else getting that high. Every surface of the room had been scrubbed and polished and shined until you could see your face in it. The long, green carpets that ran the length of the room from the dais to the far end and led to the doors on either side, had been laid atop a wider strip of gold fabric embroidered with flowers and leaves, to give it a border. A similar gold backing was added to the Narnian standard behind the four thrones, with silver ones going to the tapestries hanging from the walls.

Looking at all the splendor irritated Edmund even more. That they should put their best feet forward for someone they disliked to very intensely was maddening. However, Lucy was right, as much as it galled him to act like it. Now was not the time. So he schooled himself, and awaited Rabadash’s entrance.

A page entered and made a signal to clear the walkways.

“Here he comes,” Lucy sighed beside him.

“And now we finally see him in person,” Peter said on his other side. Susan, on the far side, sat up straighter.

And so entered Rabadash, crown prince of Calormen. He was dressed, as could be expected, in grand fashion. Likely most men would have looked ridiculous in the jewel tones and gold embroidery, but Rabadash managed to look absolutely splendid, as did his attendants. He had an entourage of only five, which was small for Calormen, but reasonable here given the ambiguous political relationship between the two nations. All of the Calormenes were carrying the curved scimitars that they favored, as well, but from the jeweled hilts and engraved blades, these were clearly ceremonial weapons. As much as Edmund hated to admit it, the party did make a fairly impressive picture.

He glanced at Lucy and, to his dismay, found her attention absolutely fastened to Rabadash. As he glanced around he noticed the same thing of most of the women in the court. Edmund would have been perfectly willing to admit he drew the eye, but this fascinated, wide-eyed attention was something he hadn’t expected. He changed a glance a Susan and was even more dismayed to discover that she looked absolutely thunderstruck.

This, he thought, was a terrible beginning.

The Calormenes came to a halt before the four thrones and all bowed. Rabadash, however, was looking straight at Susan the whole time. Edmund noticed that at this, Lucy stopped looking fascinated and narrowed her eyes instead.

“We are pleased,” Peter said, “to welcome your highness to Narnia, Prince Rabadash. It is our hope that your visit increases the friendship of our two nations.”

“In such a beautiful country as this,” Rabadash replied, still looking at Susan, “friendship can not do other than flourish.”

Edmund exchanged a look with Lucy, who now had an amused expression on her face. He smothered a laugh.

“We thank you, sir, for your courtesy,” Peter said, “and wish to welcome you properly to our nation. We propose, therefore, to hold a tournament in your honor, to begin the third day from today. It is our wish that this meet with your approval.”

That forced Rabadash’s attention. He turned his head to Peter and said, “Your majesty, such activities must always meet with the approval of men of honor. I find this a highly desirable plan.”

Peter gave a smile. “Excellent. Then I commend you to the care of our excellent brother, King Edmund.”

Edmund rose from his seat, descended, and escorted Rabadash and his party out.

They exited the throne room to one of the pillared breezeways that ran along the outside of the castle.

“Such a palace as this must’ve been difficult to win from the control of the evil enchantress you defeated,” Rabadash observed, looking at the bulwarks and walls curiously.

“It is an easily defensible building,” Edmund admitted, considering whether he should stop there, given that he was not, precisely, lying. After a moment, he decided against it. “However, the Witch’s castle was to the north and west of Cair Paravel. Near the place we call the Lantern Waste. This castle belongs to Narnia’s ancient kings and queens, who were descended from King Frank and Queen Helen, so crowned by Aslan himself at the dawning of the world.”

“Why would so powerful an enchantress leave such a jewel as this untouched?” Rabadash asked, with a deceptively off-hand tone of voice.

Edmund looked the prince up and down, taking in the fact that his hand rested on the hilt of that ceremonial sword he so casually wore. His pointed questions were annoying and Edmund had to wonder if the man had no subtlety at all.

“The White Witch was very powerful,” Edmund said seriously, “but a greater power than she could ever hope to be kept this castle for the rightful kings and queens of Narnia.”

“Then it is true. You are favored by the northern gods,” Rabadash mused.

They turned out of the breezeway and into the section of the castle where Rabadash would be staying while he remained with them. Edmund’s opinion was confirmed. The man had no subtlety whatsoever. Only idiocy or supreme overconfidence could prompt him in showing his hand like this.

“Aslan is the son of the Emperor-over-the-Sea, and king over all High Kings in Narnia. And he did crown us himself,” Edmund replied. There. Let him think on that.

“It is said by one of our poets,” Rabadash replied slowly, “that ‘More worthy than water in the desert is the favor and blessing of heaven.’”

“I believe, sir,” Edmund replied, “that your poets are very wise men.” He indicated a door with his arm. “These will be your apartments while you are with us. If anything does not meet with your approval, call for Tarrence. He will attend you.”

“What a happy land is Narnia,” Rabadash said, still sounding careless, “to have so many kings and queens that one or the other of them may be dispatched from court, when they are not needed there, simply to play guide to a visitor.”

Edmund didn’t miss the dig, but decided not to acknowledge it directly. “It is our fashion when we receive very honored guests.”

Rabadash did have the grace to look somewhat chastened at that. Before he could say another word, Edmund inclined his head and said, “Your servant, sir.” With that, he strode off, carefully not letting his boot heels snap too hard on the floor and wishing he had a sword to lay his hand on.

Peter and Lucy were naturally appalled by this behavior when Edmund told them about it over lunch. Susan, however, did not join them for the meal as she was dining with Rabadash on one of the balconies.

“A Calormene meal, I’m told,” Peter said, picking idly at his beef. “Apparently he is taking this courtship very seriously.”

“The man has nothing to recommend him,” Edmund snapped. “He has no manners and less sense.”

“I would not say nothing,” Lucy put in slowly.

“Oh, Lu, don’t say it,” Peter said, sounding almost pained.

“He is very good-looking,” Lucy said, at which Peter groaned and Edmund buried his head in his hands. Well, it’s true,” their sister protested. “And it was clear just from seeing him come in that he can be very charming when he puts his mind to it.”

“Well, we’ll just have to hope Susan is immune to his charm,” Edmund sighed.

“I think she’s got more sense than that,” Lucy answered. “There’s no fear of her actually accepting.”

But much to all of their shock, all Susan could speak of that evening were Rabadash’s many excellent qualities. His wit, his intelligence, his wide reading, his quick reflexes, and his overwhelming charm.

“I’m beginning to wonder if this is all exactly what it appears,” Susan sighed happily, sinking into her favorite chair.

Peter and Edmund exchanged looks and said nothing.

“Susan,” Lucy said with a snappish tone, “two days ago, you were certain that this was a political ploy. And we have years of difficult relations with Calormen to support that theory. You mean to say that your entire experience of growing up as we staved off their advances and attempts to encroach on our kingdom have all been overturned in one afternoon?”

Susan narrowed her eyes at her sister. “Don’t you believe he could possibly want to marry me?”

Lucy opened her mouth and then closed it and looked out of the window.

“And I suppose you two think the same?” Susan said, turning on Peter and Edmund.

Edmund did not speak.

Peter began very slowly. “Su, it isn’t that we think—”

“Oh, don’t bother,” Susan hissed at him. “I’m for bed. I’ll leave the three of you to your own councils.” And with that, she vanished gracefully through the door.

“Well, that was a total disaster,” Lucy sighed.

“I suppose we might go back to the old stand-by,” Peter said.

“What? Minding our own business?” Edmund asked. Ever since the professor had suggested it to Peter and Susan when they were children in England, it had been adopted as a standard procedure among the four siblings when they had reached a point of impasse in some argument or other.

Peter nodded.

“I’m afraid, Peter, that that’s no good in this case,” Lucy said. “Susan is a queen of Narnia. Who she marries affects the whole kingdom. It’s everyone’s business.”

Peter didn’t look like he liked that idea at all. Edmund knew he didn’t, however much Lucy might be correct. They lapsed into an unhappy silence which stretched until Peter said, “Oh, yes. I forgot. More bad news.”

“What is it?” Lucy asked.

“The envoy from Harfang arrived today. We’ll have to meet with them tomorrow,” Peter told them.

Edmund sighed. “Today is…over. Thank the Lion. I’m going to bed. Hopefully, a full night’s sleep will help.”

He stood up and left his two siblings exchanging glance, but ignored their looks.

Chapter Text

The next morning, Edmund woke earlier than usual and went for a brief ride before breakfast. It helped clear his head so that when he returned to the palace, he was much more relaxed than he had been the previous day. Susan apologized for snapping at everyone the night before, Edmund apologized for storming off, and they all apologized to Susan for being rude to her the night before.

“Since I left the two of you to your own devices last night,” Edmund admitted to Peter and Lucy sheepishly, “then if you have made any sort of plan for dealing with the giants today, tell me what you want me to do and I will do it.”

“I’m glad you said that, Ed,” Peter replied with a grin, “because I was going to order you to anyway.”

Edmund laughed. “I suppose I deserve that. All right, your majesty. What are my orders?”

Peter leveled his spoon at Edmund’s head. “Don’t press your luck, sire. I thought, and Lucy agreed with me, that since you were the one who fielded the envoy from the Marsh-Wiggles, you should also speak to the envoy from Harfang.”

That snapped Edmund back into seriousness. “When are they expected?”

“This afternoon. You’ll have to meet with them outside, of course,” Peter said.

“Of course. I’ll need Haldring with me,” Edmund answered.

“I think you should take Kerrow, as well,” Lucy put in. “Centaurs always look very grave, but the northern giants respect fierceness more than gravity and…well, it’s hard to beat a leopard for fierce.”

Edmund bowed his head. “My lady.”

“In the meantime,” Peter said, smiling as well, “Lucy and I will deal with the Calormene ambassadors today, and Susan, I want you to show Rabadash over the tournament grounds. Susan, I’m sorry, but I’m still not convinced he doesn’t have some further agenda, however much he may wish to marry you into the bargain. I know you may not believe it, but I want you to speak to him today in an attempt to uncover whatever else he may be after, if anything. Try to catch him off-guard.”

Susan nodded. She didn’t look entirely pleased, but neither was she angry any longer. Edmund was glad. This was the closest they’d come to truly working together since that day when those blasted Marsh-Wiggles had shown up.

Edmund and Peter spent the rest of the morning discussing again the situation as the Marsh-Wiggles had outlined it, along with what they expected the giants’ envoy to report. Edmund then spent the lunch hour setting up a space to receive the giants outside the castle, and in conference with Haldring and Kerrow on most of the same things he and Peter had discussed that morning.

Kerrow, who had been looking Edmund directly in the eye with an unsettlingly steady feline gaze, finally said, “Then, sire, we must convince the giants to abandon their invasion without provoking a full-scale war?”

Edmund sighed. “We must try, at any rate. Thankfully, given that they’ve already entered Narnia, we can hardly provoke them to do much worse. Unfortunately, it means we shall have to try and convince them to abandon plans they have already set into motion.”

“A difficult task,” Haldring mused, “given that they are clearly comfortable dealing with the conflict they have already provoked from the Marsh-Wiggles.”

“Our northern Narnians are ill-equipped to defend themselves from attack,” Edmund replied. “I will allow that they may fight fiercely enough, if driven to the point, but I have yet to meet the Marsh-Wiggle who could be so driven. Up to this point, the giants have been offered no resistance.”

“None, your majesty?” Kerrow asked, sounding shocked.

“The Marsh-Wiggles are clever, and quicker than they look. They are also very difficult to find when they wish to be. They have simply moved around the giants,” Edmund explained.

“Interesting strategy,” Haldring mused, apparently caught half-way between amusement and disapproval. “No doubt frustrating for a force looking to drive them out.”

“No doubt,” Edmund agreed.

“And if we can not convince them to abandon their plan of invasion?” Kerrow asked.

“Then it will likely be war,” Edmund sighed. “We can not simply allow the giants to take over Narnian lands. If we do not defend our own citizens, then we are not fit to call ourselves Narnians.”

Two solemn nods came in response to this. The three of them went out to the open forest glade that Edmund had had prepared. He sat down on his chair. Kerrow sat beside him, tail neatly curled around his feet, and Haldring stood to his other side, looking contemplative. They all faced the two enormous chairs that had been provided for the giants who were coming.

At last the ambassadors arrived, dressed in finer clothes then Edmund usually saw ambassadors wearing. Then again, the giants of Harfang did like to show off. They were offered food and water, though of course, the Narnians had already eaten. Both were declined.

“No, your majesty,” said Daggin, who was the older of the two, once they were seated, “it is important that we straighten out this misunderstanding between Narnia and our people.”

“Indeed, it is,” Edmund agreed, “as the charge that has been laid at your feet is a very serious one indeed.”

“These are false rumors, spun by the superstitious frog-people you call Marsh-Wiggles. No giant has participated in any attacks on any Narnian citizens,” Halbert, the younger ambassador, said.

“It is impossible that they could,” Haldring said, nodding, “when the Narnians in question have hidden away whenever any giants have approached.”

“But we have been accused of trying to take their lands. This is untrue. I am afraid, sire, that the Marsh-Wiggles attribute to us the crime of which they are guilty,” Daggin replied.

“Do you mean to tell me that you claim a people, who are so uniformly negative about every possible thing that they routinely believe it will be impossible to catch frogs in a swamp, have suddenly discovered the wherewithal to attack a city of giants?” Edmund asked, deliberately allowing sarcasm to color his tone.

Halbert and Daggin exchanged a rather inscrutable glance. Finally Daggin said, “What can we do to correct this misunderstanding? You must understand that we have not entered Narnian lands, except on this diplomatic mission.”

“Then the reports of every talking bird to fly through that region are uniformly incorrect?” Kerrow asked mildly. Although it was improbable that the giants noticed, his tone had gone quiet and deliberate, in the manner that talking cats sometimes adopt when they are at their most dangerous.

Halbert frowned. “You seem to have made your minds up already.”

“We are willing to accept a logical explanation,” Edmund said. “However, we do not take lightly any concerns about the safety of our citizens. We know you have had people in the area these past several days, and they appear to be looking for something.” He assumed a non-threatening pose and made a casual wave of his hand. “Why?”

Halbert and Daggin exchanged a glance. “We speak only for the government of Harfang,” Daggin finally said. “It is possible some of our citizens or other have become lost. However, if they have made any attempts to harm any Narnian citizens, you may be certain they will be punished most severely. Our laws are quite clear on this point.”

“I find myself terribly curious to read your laws on this point,” Edmund returned. “Have you a copy?”

“We do not, your majesty,” Halbert answered.

“I see. A pity.” Edmund played nonchalant to the hilt.

Unfortunately, with nothing further to be gleaned from that day’s discussion, they quickly had to call a halt after some further, unilluminating, back and forth.

Having determined to finish the discussion the next day at the same time, they quickly set to satisfying courtesy by discussing a few inconsequentials. The Harfang envoys were just about to leave when Lucy, Peter, and all three of the Calormene ambassadors, all on horseback, rode very nearly straight into the clearing in which they all sat.

Only the ingrained force of habit, long beaten into his head by Tumnus and Haldring, among others, saved Edmund from betraying his shock. As it was, he introduced the ambassadors from Harfang to those of Calormene in what, he thought, was a distant and very flat voice. The Calormenes made their replies in much the same way, however, which made Edmund suppose that they had not noticed his own mood. Daggin stepped in and made a very polite statement of his own, but thankfully the conference was brief and the two giants left quickly.

Peter, Lucy, and the Calormene ambassadors rode into Cair Paravel, headed for the stables. Edmund followed and sought out Peter and Lucy as soon as they had entered the castle proper.

“What happened?” he asked them.

“It was no good at all, Ed,” Peter sighed. “We tried everything. Nothing would do but that we give them a tour of the area around the castle. So we took the most circuitous route we could, trying to give you time.”

“But not enough,” Lucy sighed. “Oh, the questions they were asking when we rode into the castle! ‘Is Narnia routinely forced to give audiences to creatures such as they?’ ‘How can such people be kept from overrunning your nation?’ It’s as bad as we feared.”

Edmund filled them in on the disappointing discussion he’d had with Daggin and Halbert, which lowered their spirits further. However, with nothing to do but try again tomorrow, they spent the afternoon discussing how the tournament ought to run, and then went in to supper.

Susan and Rabadash spent the meal talking, in such an overly sweet manner and with so many excuses to touch one another’s hands or arms, that Edmund found himself forced to excuse himself early or else he feared he would say something he would later regret. For a day with such promise at the beginning, at the end he had to conclude that it had been a moderate catastrophe. Rather than spend any time with his brother or sisters, Edmund eschewed their company for the first time in quite a while and shut himself into his own room with a book. Quite unusually, however, Edmund found he could not focus on what he was reading.

Finally he closed the book with a snap and looked out of his window, facing to the east. “Aslan,” he sighed quietly, “I would desperately appreciate some guidance. I…I don’t know if you’ve been watching Narnia these past few days.”

Edmund was appalled to hear the words coming out of his mouth, but he was even more shocked to realize they were true. With Susan looking thoroughly interested in leaving Narnia to marry the Calormene crown prince, he could not imagine what Aslan could be doing that could be good for Narnia. And just two weeks prior he would have sworn that Aslan governed the affairs of every man and nation.

His certainty was now shaken.

The next day, Edmund found himself practically bombarded with reports from the talking birds to the north, who informed him with absolute certainty that the giants attempting to hunt down the Marsh-Wiggles in their own lands were wearing a uniform belonging to the royal house of Harfang.

Armed with this knowledge, Edmund, Kerrow, and Haldring put this question to the two ambassadors.

“We have no knowledge of this,” Halbert replied.

“I can not believe that Harfang would send any envoy to Narnia,” Haldring said mildly, “if that envoy were not fully informed and capable of negotiating on their behalf.”

“What are you implying?” Daggin demanded, looking quellingly at Halbert. Edmund couldn’t blame the older ambassador, as it would have served better to suggest some excuse rather than disavow all knowledge and make both ambassadors look foolish.

“I believe my friend is simply affirming his belief that you must both be informed of your governments intentions since you are here to speak on their behalf,” Edmund said, quite politely.

The two giants looked at one another and after a long moment, Daggin spoke. “Ettinsmoor belongs to the giants. This is indisputable.”

“And the marshes belong to the Wiggles,” Edmund returned evenly. “These are the terms of our last treaty.”

There was another long glance. And again, Daggin spoke mildly. “Treaties can be changed.”

“Then you do not deny that you have entered Narnia?” Edmund asked curiously.

“We deny that the land our soldiers now occupy is Narnian,” Daggin finished.

Everyone blinked at that. Even Halbert.

Edmund digested this intelligence and finally stood up. “You will abandon this plan of encroachment against the Marsh-Wiggles. They do neither you, nor anyone else, any harm at all.”

“And if we do not?” Daggin asked.

“I believe we all know what happens then,” Edmund said sadly. “I do not wish it to come to that.”

The two giants exchanged a glance, but had nothing further to say. They stood, offered Edmund a bow, and then left. Edmund sank back down into his seat. “So it is to be war, then.”

“So it seems, your majesty,” Haldring agreed sadly.

Kerrow huffed a breath and flicked his tail. “Why bother sending an envoy at all? They never had any intention of stopping.”

“They wanted to know if we would fight back or not,” Edmund answered, “and now they know we shall. There will be no surprises here.” He called to one of the attendant dryads and instructed her to strike their meeting place. It was time to go back to the castle and give Peter the bad news.

Peter and Lucy took Edmund’s report as well as they could be asked to, given that they’d just spent several hours of fruitless negotiating with the Calormene ambassadors.

“War with Harfang will be a serious undertaking,” Lucy observed. “We’ll need to start recruiting for the army now.”

“Our giants will have to come, of course,” Peter agreed. “Lucy, you get on very well with them…”

Lucy nodded. “I’ll leave right now. Hold the archery contest for me, if you can manage it.”

Peter nodded. As Lucy left, he turned to Edmund. “Find Haldring and dispatch him to get as many centaurs as will come. I will send messages to the talking animals and dwarves.” He sighed. “That leaves you, Ed, and Susan to handle things with the Calormenes. They can not know of this.”

“Consider it handled,” Edmund assured him, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Do whatever you need to.”

Peter gave him a nod before striding off.

Lucy was going to be gone, probably, for several days. And though Peter was present for the evening meal, he was thoroughly distracted. Edmund and Susan, however, managed to completely distract the Calormenes. Susan concentrated on keeping Rabadash’s attention on her while Edmund engaged the three Calormene ambassadors in a debate on philosophy.

It was a simple matter, as Edmund was king of a nation of talking animals and trees and rivers, to attest from personal experience that any creature, regardless of size or other factors, that might live to have a future as an intelligent being ought to be treated as a person, if only to prevent that future from being stolen. Calormenes, coming from a kingdom entirely of human beings, and one with a practice of buying and selling some of them, generally disagreed with this and so entered the debate with great spirit. Edmund was careful to maintain a sufficiently academic and theoretical tone that he avoided giving offense, which also enabled them all to easily carry the discussion throughout the whole of the meal.

Peter’s distraction was not noticed, nor Lucy’s absence remarked on.

They all made an early night of it, and the next morning the whole of the Calormene party was taken up in preparation for the tournament, leaving Edmund free to do the same. He was well aware that he had not taken up his sword to practice for at least a week now, which he actually found quite gratifying. The peace that Narnia now enjoyed enabled him to go long stretches at a time without having to touch neither lance, nor spear, nor sword, nor bow was quite pleasant and he was proud to have been one of the architects of it.

Unfortunately, he could not afford to look less than battle ready today. While Rabadash’s behavior to Susan was nothing less than it should be, his pointed questions to everyone else, and obvious investigation of their defenses revealed his true intentions to anyone who cared to see. And with Peter already forced to raise an army to travel north, it would not do to let the Calormenes think Narnia was weak. Having engagements in the north and south at once was a nightmare Edmund did not care to think on.

He went through his warm-up routine almost without thinking about it and was gratified that everything felt just as natural and comfortable as it ought. After putting himself through a few of the more challenging drills, he joined Peter and Susan for the mid-day meal.

Peter was, by now, practically buried in reports from talking birds that were coming in from the north. The two ambassadors from Harfang had taken their leave during the night and were now crossing the hills into Ettinsmoor. They would be in Harfang by the next day. The day after, Harfang would begin preparing for war.

Edmund was impressed, however, at how normal an impression Peter managed to convey to everyone during lunch. He suspected that only himself and Susan had any idea how distracted he truly was. Finally, after they had dined, everyone left Cair Paravel for the tournament grounds.

Chapter Text

The tournament was to be held across the next several days, and the grounds had been set up in a large clearing, a short ride away from Cair Paravel. Peter, Edmund, and Susan, all rode behind the rest of the group headed there, although Rabadash stayed near Susan at her invitation. When they entered the tournament grounds, it was to the fanfare of trumpets and the sound of Narnian cheers.

Peter, escorting Susan, and followed by Edmund and Rabadash, led the way to their seats in the royal box and declared the tournament formally open. Since they had all been largely distracted and unable to plan this tournament as closely as Edmund would have usually wished, he was not entirely certain what order events would take. He suspected, given that the field was set up for it, that jousting would come first. After that, however, he was uncertain.

Unfortunately for the Narnians, however, Rabadash, Ravid, and Arvish of the Calormene ambassadors, and the tarkaans Chlamash and Torestar, who had accompanied the prince, all turned out to be excellent at jousting. All five of them unhorsed at least one Narnian. Edmund found himself going down to Rabadash, at one point, must to his disgust.

However, under the cover of the noise and the excitement (and the shock of the Calormenes when centaurs began jousting, both with each other and with some of the human lords), Peter managed to sketch out a plan to stage his army north of Beruna near where the River Rush and the Great River met, and from there to march north to the marshes south of Ettinsmoor. Ideally, they would be there before the week was out.

It wasn’t until they were riding back to the castle that Edmund realized just how difficult it would be to keep their plans from the Calormenes, if it could be done at all.

Since Susan was constrained by her position to allow Peter to escort her back, Edmund rode beside Rabadash.

“I see that your other sister has vanished for the day,” Rabadash observed.

Edmund, having seen him in conference with the ambassadors before he left the tournament grounds, was unsurprised that he had finally noticed.

“She has business elsewhere. It should not keep her long,” Edmund said.

“How unfortunate that she shall miss the tournament,” Rabadash replied.

“I do not believe she shall,” Edmund returned.

“Then this business is of some haste,” Rabadash said.

Edmund raised an eyebrow at the Calormene prince. “I believe, your highness, that it is simply not a complex affair.”

“And yet a queen is required to see to it,” Rabadash said, openly skeptical. “Your northern customs are very unlike ours in Calormene.”

“They are, sir,” Edmund replied, not speaking any further on the subject of Lucy.

He did mention their conversation to Peter and Susan that night, though. “Susan, you’ll forgive me, but Rabadash has no subtlety at all. His directness reveals his intentions, but it also causes me a great deal of difficulty in not revealing our situation. If they remain much beyond the end of this tournament, no amount of subterfuge on our parts will keep the truth from them.”

Peter frowned. “We can’t just order them out,” he said. “That would not go over well with the Tisroc.”

“To say the least,” Susan agreed, “but maybe I can persuade them.”

“How is that?” Edmund asked.

“I’ll tell Rabadash that I am considering his offer—”

“Don’t tell him too directly, as we’ve yet to work out any settlement with his thrice-blasted ambassadors,” Peter put in.

“I’ll be clever about it,” Susan promised, “and I’ll also say that I would feel better having seen Calormen, and knowing what things are like in his own lands.”

“And if he takes the hint, he’ll have to leave as soon as possible to clear the way for a visit from you,” Peter nodded. “It might work.”

“Good. Peter, I don’t mind telling you that with most of our best troops now heading off to join this army of yours, this tournament is now likely to do the opposite of what we intended it to,” Edmund said.

“What do you mean?”

“Our plan was to make them less eager to attack Narnia by demonstrating just what that sort of undertaking would entail. With most of our best fighters staging for an actual battle now…” Edmund trailed off, looking out the window in irritation. “You know as well as I that I did not put on a good show today.”

“But anyone knows you’re a good man in an actual fight,” Peter protested.

“Only if they’ve had a chance to see this,” Edmund said.

“Most people did not show well today,” Susan put in sadly. “They’re holding back, so as to perform better when they truly need to.”

Peter sighed. “I’ve been so busy working… This won’t do at all.”

“We’ll cut it down. Tomorrow is the melee. We’ll hold the archery contest the third day and call it finished,” Edmund suggested.

“Good,” Peter nodded. “Then I can plan in the mornings, and devote my attention to pretending all is well in the afternoons.”

Edmund shook his head ruefully. “I hope Lucy gets back soon, or else she’ll make a liar of me.”

Lucy was not present the following day, however. And once the afternoon’s events began, there was no more time to think on it.

A Narnian melee consisted, as any melee would, of two groups, of about twenty each, which would stage a skirmish. Today’s melee would have Peter leading one group and Edmund the other. However, unlike most other nations, a Narnian skirmish included fauns, big cats, wolves, badgers, bears, dogs, horses, unicorns, eagles, and any number of other creatures who would not be present in most armies.

Edmund looked over his “army” for the day and found he was remarkably satisfied. He took Lord Rallen as his second and the two of them looked over to find Peter and Peridan in conference with Rabadash.

“No doubt he is teaching them some Calormene stratagem or other,” Rallen sighed.

“Peace, my lord,” Edmund said absently. “We need to discuss our strategy.”

They buried themselves in plans for several moments, before finally signally to Thunderhoof that they were prepared. A similar signal came from Peter and finally, the two teams lined up and prepared to charge.

There was a moment of silence, where it seemed that everyone took a breath. Then, finally, Thunderhoof’s hand fell and the two armies closed on each other with a thunderous noise and cries from both sides.

Both Edmund and Peter, knowing each others’ strengths and weaknesses, had organized their teams quite well. For some long minutes, neither of them could gain an advantage. Edmund found himself pressed to the center and suddenly his brother was grinning at him across his sword.

“Hello, Ed,” Peter laughed.

“Hello, Peter,” Edmund returned, aiming the flat of his blade for his brother’s legs. Peter parried that and Edmund allowed the force of that block to drive his next assault on Peter’s rib cage.

Peter blocked that too and the crush swept them on from each other until Edmund found himself facing Rabadash.

No jeweled hilts or carved blades today for the Calormene prince. Rabadash was all business. But what shocked Edmund more was that about every third hit or so, Rabadash was clearly striking more seriously than warranted by a tournament. Edmund was forced to admit that the man had some subtlety after all. If Edmund allowed himself to be baited into responding too strongly, he could be accused of attacking the Calormene prince. A more excellent excuse for moving against Narnia he could not imagine.

Fortunately, Edmund was a better swordsman than Rabadash—if a poorer jouster—and provoking someone into a rage is a task better suited to boldness. Edmund wasn’t surprised that the one time subtlety came out in Rabadash was the worst possible time for it.

Although he successfully fended off the assault, he kept an eye on Rabadash for the rest of the melee. It cost him. With Edmund’s attention divided, Peter easily took the upper hand and Edmund found himself on the loosing side of yet another battle of the tournament.

Finally a halt was called and Peter declared the victor. Edmund had expected that as they both knew Peter to be the better general, and he had certainly demonstrated it today. Rabadash clearly had a wary eye as he looked the High King over now.

Still, Edmund was happy to mount his horse and return to the castle. He was happier still to reach it, where they discovered that during the afternoon Lucy had returned. Thankful to have the excuse of duty, Edmund was able to abandon Rabadash for dinner, as he was required to escort his sister.

He filled Lucy in, quietly, on all the doings of the tournament, about which she merely raised a brow. “Bad luck, Ed. I had hoped you’d turn in a better showing.”

Edmund gave her a wry grin. “Peter covered for me. He fought like an absolute lion today.”

“Well, good,” she said.

“By the way, how are the Rumblebuffins?” Edmund asked curiously.

“Oh, very well,” Lucy replied. “They send their regards.”

“Excellent,” Edmund grinned.

“It’s good to be home, though,” Lucy sighed. “Giant beds are a bit tall for my tastes.”

That prompted a laugh, and they allowed their conversation to turn to other things. That night, when the four of them met privately, Lucy and Susan both were bursting with good news.

“Not only have the giants sworn to come, they’ve built some new weapons. Peter, our giants built several cross-bows in their size! They’re absolutely enormous. It would take six men to operate something that size on the ground, and our giants will be firing from their own height! Their aim is nothing to cheer on, but I’m sure you’ll find some use for it,” Lucy told them.

“In the meantime, Rabadash took my hints beautifully. He’s sworn to leave, with his entire party, the day after the tournament,” Susan added.

“Perfect,” Peter said with a nod. “At last some good news. We’ve received answers from the trees, as well. They’ll be sending several parties. And all of Haldring’s clan of centaurs is mustering to join us.”

“A good force,” Edmund said. “With any luck, we’ll be able to keep this from the Calormenes for the next day and a half.”

Unfortunately, luck was not with them. In fact, it was poor Dilly who brought their plan crashing down. Since it was their last full day in Narnia, Susan invited Rabadash to join them for breakfast. Out of courtesy, that invitation was extended to the ambassadors and tarkaans as well. They were all well into their meal when Dilly poked her head around the corner. She tried to go before she was spotted, but Rabadash himself saw her and so she was trapped into coming and delivering the message that the bears near the Dancing Lawn were joining the muster near Beruna to aid King Peter.

Naturally this obliged Peter to explain the whole thing while Edmund quickly came up with a task to allow Dilly to leave before anyone could maneuver her into any other untenable positions.

“How dreadful to come under attack from such uncivilized individuals as these giants,” Torestar observed.

“But how happy you must be to enjoy such a quick response to your requests for assistance,” Rabadash added.

“Indeed, one of the poets has said, ‘The love of his people to a king is as the sunshine to the earth,’” Irukan agreed in the same, elevated tone he favored.

“I am forced, again,” Edmund replied, pointedly not looking at Lucy, who was rolling her eyes at her sausage, “to say that the Calormene poets are very wise men indeed.”

“I am moved by such a predicament as you have explained to me,” Rabadash said quickly, “and being so moved, I can not but feel that it would be the will of my father, the Tisroc--to whom may the gods give an eternal reign--to offer the assistance of Calormen in this action you will soon engage in.”

Lucy was not rolling her eyes any more, but managed to keep the alarm off her face. Susan seemed to have melted at such an outpouring of kindness, but Peter’s eyes narrowed a bit. While quite polite and correctly stated, Calormene assistance of any sort would necessitate Calormene troops in Narnian lands, for at least some portion of the fighting, and everyone at the table knew it.

“Your offer is kind, and generous beyond all reason,” Edmund said slowly, careful to keep his tone friendly and polite. “But with Aslan’s blessing, and our people’s kind support, it is not necessary that we should look for help at this time, your highness.”

Rabadash nodded with an equally polite expression and they all returned to their meals. When they left, Lucy managed to require Edmund’s escort again and the two of them turned down the way to Edmund’s study.

“Well, that’s that,” Lucy said when they were out of earshot. “And we were doing so well, too.”

“No help for it now,” Edmund sighed. “But do try to make a better showing today than I have the past two.”

Lucy grinned. “Oh, nothing simpler, Edmund!”

Edmund gave her a good-natured glare, but Lucy was out of the way before he could think of a clever response with which to vent his spleen.

Lucy and Susan, both in the archery contest, made short work of all their opponents. Including, to Susan’s distaste, Thunderhoof, who had given over the job of crier to Peridan and joined the contest himself. Susan disliked having to best him, but did it anyway, and with a great deal of skill.

It was to no one’s surprise that the two queens faced one another for first place. Fortunately for Susan, though, against her sister, one of Lucy’s arrows went slightly astray and struck the first ring outside the bulls-eye, rather than the center of the target. With three perfect bulls-eyes, Susan was easily declared the winner.

“Your sisters are both deadly archers,” Rabadash observed quietly.

“It is fortunate for Narnia that both her queens are both wise in counsel, great in grace, and fearsome in combat,” Peter agreed. “We are all proud of Queen Susan and Queen Lucy.”

Rabadash narrowed his eyes just slightly at that speech, but without any reason to object to any of it, simply said, “Your majesty.”

Susan rode back to the castle wearing the gold circlet she had won, cheered on enthusiastically by crowds of Narnians who lined the route back to Cair Paravel. It seemed that half the country had turned up to see their sovereigns and watch the tournament. And while Edmund was humbled by such an outpouring of love, the calculating portion of his brain thought that in that sense, this tournament had been a rousing success. Rabadash was clearly surprised by how loyal the Narnians were to their kings and queens, the necessary consequence of which was that, if need be, those same Narnians would defend their kings and queens to the death.

Hopefully this would resonate in him.

Edmund saw him continually stealing glances at Lucy that night at dinner, and the three ambassadors maintained polite conversation during dinner, but were deep in conference with one another afterwards. Clearly something had their attention.

Edmund finally relaxed a little that night in their study. Since he was no longer worried about keeping secrets from the Calormenes, he and Lucy played a rousing game of chess, while Susan fretted about Rabadash and Peter read the latest reports on the army and the giants’ army now marshaling just south of Harfang.

“I suppose that soon, I’ll be headed to Calormen,” Susan said finally, just as Edmund put Lucy’s king in check.

“And when are you going to tell Rabadash you aren’t planning to marry him?” Lucy asked absently, laying her finger on a knight, and then taking it off without moving it.

“I’m not entirely sure I’m not,” Susan replied quietly.

Peter, Edmund, and Lucy all turned to stare at her.

“Really, Su?” Lucy finally said quietly.

“He’s been very kind and considerate to me,” Susan said. “And you saw him at the tournament. He is quite fine, as a knight. And he’s very handsome besides. There’s a great deal to recommend him.”

Peter blinked and then said, “Well, I was going to say so anyway, but since you are seriously considering him, Susan, then Edmund is going to Calormen with you. Along with Mr. Tumnus and Lord Peridan, at the very least.” Peter turned his attention to Edmund. “Someone has to work out some kind of agreement with the Tisroc on this marriage. And all we’ve gotten their ambassadors to agree to are details on the ceremony.”

Lucy made a move with her rook.

“As you wish, Peter,” Edmund nodded. He reached out and moved one of his own castles. “Checkmate.”

“Drat,” Lucy sighed. “And double drat to you, Peter, since that will leave me to keep Narnia by myself.”

“Lucy, there’s no need to worry on that score. No one else could possibly be better hands to leave Narnia in,” Peter returned.

Lucy opened her mouth to protest, but Susan broke in. “He’s absolutely right, Lucy. Now don’t argue.”

“I agree,” Edmund said quietly.

Lucy blushed furiously, but did not say anything. After sitting together in silence, the four of them eventually sought their beds.

Chapter Text

The next morning was a flurry of activity as they saw the Calormene ambassadors and Prince Rabadash off. And that afternoon, Susan, Edmund, and Lucy all worked feverishly on the enormous number of things that needed their attention but had been put off a bit while the Calormenes were visiting. Peter, who was planning to leave and meet his army the next day, spent the entire afternoon in conference with Haldring, who had returned with a nearly final count on the numbers Peter would have. And the next day, Peter was off before breakfast.

“Well, that’s that,” Lucy sighed, watching him go. “It never seems right here when one of us is gone.”

“Don’t worry, Lu. Giants are never very clever,” Edmund said. “They’ll have size on their side, but not much else.”

Lucy reached out and hugged him with one arm and Susan with the other. “I suppose you’re right. But I’ll miss him all the same.”

“Come have some breakfast, then. That will cheer you up at least a little,” Susan urged.

They spent the morning in court, but a letter came that afternoon from King Lune, saying Prince Corin had started off for Cair Paravel and would arrive the following day or the day after.

This cheered all three of them up immensely as Corin was a favorite of the entire Narnian court, and so they ordered his usual room made ready for his arrival, and Edmund found himself able to get started on more of the mountain of audiences he still had to conduct with relative equanimity. It had been some time since he had last seen Archenland’s prince.

The arrival of Prince Corin was conducted with not nearly so much ceremony as was that of Prince Rabadash. Rather than lining everyone up in the throne room and showing off, Corin was greeted as he dismounted his horse in the courtyard by two Narnian queens who quite forgot their dignity in their haste of running over to him and plastering him with kisses of greeting and exclamations of how tall he had grown in the last year.

Edmund walked out to him more slowly, but with a smile on his face no less broad. “And my greeting to you, your highness,” he said. “I would welcome you to Narnia, but you are already welcomed.”

“Your majesty,” Corin replied, trying to bow, and getting hung up around Susan’s arms. “I…can not offer you nearly the courtesy I ought. I beg your forgiveness, sire.”

“It shall be considered,” Edmund replied in mock-sternness.

Corin grinned in reply. The four of them entered the castle, all talking happily. Mr. Tumnus was equally excited to receive Prince Corin and so the next several days passed cheerfully as they all entertained their guest. In fact, if it weren’t for the letters Peter kept sending them, with news of his battles against the northern giants, they would’ve relaxed almost completely. But Edmund knew it was too good to last, and sure enough, a few days later a letter came from the Tisroc. Prince Rabadash requested they visit and so preparations were duly begun.

While the Calormenes had come over the desert, Edmund pointed out that any idea of their going that way was out of the question.

“We’re not nearly as accustomed to crossing deserts as the Calormenes are, and trying would probably just tire us and put us off our guard,” Edmund said while they were in their sitting room. “We’ll go by ship.”

“I suppose you’re right, Edmund,” Susan agreed, looking up from where she and Corin were playing chess.

“Well, now I suppose we’ll simply have to wait and see what King Lune says about Corin going with you,” Lucy agreed.

“You’ll take me, too?” Corin asked, suddenly perking up.

“You can not have thought we’d just leave you behind, your highness” Edmund laughed. “I sent a letter to your father the day we received the Tisroc’s invitation.”

“His reply should be here any day now,” Susan agreed.

Corin looked very surprised and pleased by this. After several moments he simply said, “Thank you, your majesties,” in a very quiet voice.

Susan gave him a grin and then moved one of her knights. “Check.”

That night, before Edmund went to bed, he asked Dilly to put him in touch with one of the talking birds who worked on their staff. Dilly fetched a raven named Sallowpad to his study within five minutes.

Edmund had never met this bird before, and was a bit worried, before meeting him, that he would have that flighty tendency so many talking birds were prone to. However, the instant Sallowpad came winging through the open window, Edmund knew he needn’t have worried. Ravens were generally steady-tempered, and Sallowpad looked even more steady than most.

He landed on Edmund’s desk, fixed one of his dark eyes on him, and said, “Your majesty?”

“I am afraid, Sallowpad, that I need to ask you to perform a rather unpleasant task,” Edmund said. “We need someone in Tashbaan who can watch how things there are going, but won’t draw attention to themselves.”

The raven nodded. “And because I am a bird, you think I will be less likely to be watched, your majesty?”

“Exactly so,” Edmund agreed. “But more importantly, you will be able to go just about anywhere, and if you travel to Tashbaan separately from our party, there will be virtually no one who will look twice at you.”

“When would you like me to leave, sire?” Sallowpad asked.

“Any time between now and when the Splendor Hyaline sails,” Edmund answered.

“With your majesty’s permission, I will go at once. I will be in Tashbaan by tomorrow afternoon, and I will await your arrival there,” he answered.

“Very well, Sallowpad. And good luck to you,” Edmund told him.

The raven dipped his head, then took off and soared out the window, making his course south almost immediately.

Edmund watched him disappear into the dark night, worry crowding in on him. With Peter gone off to the north, and now Susan, Tumnus, himself, their largest flagship, and several of the Narnian nobles off to Tashbaan, Narnia was being stretched terribly thin. He listened to the ocean waves crashing on the shore, although the window faced the wrong way for him to see them. Finally, he sighed.

“Aslan, I wish…I wish you would let me know what you’re doing,” he said quietly before turning back to his work.

Lord Peridan conferred with Rence, the captain of the Splendor Hyaline, as it was fitted out for the journey, provisioned, watered, and otherwise stocked to the nines. King Lune sent a letter informing them that Corin was of course permitted to accompany them provided they believed him capable of conducting himself with sufficient decorum on the trip. Edmund got started on picking people for their trip. With Peridan, himself, Rence, and Corin going along with Susan, there was already a sufficient honor guard for Susan, given that Rence would be escorting them in the city, along with captaining the ship. Tumnus would come, since he was indispensable as an advisor. Which left two openings. After some debate, Edmund chose two dwarves. Thornbut, who was practical, if not always polite, and Mikelston, who was quiet, thoughtful, and extremely well-read.

And finally it was the day they left. Edmund hated leave-takings among the four of them, but he especially hated leaving Lucy behind anywhere. She came with them out to the dock hugged and kissed everyone profusely, clearly unhappy at having to stay home without them.

“Now cheer up, Lu,” Edmund admonished, kissing her hand. “We’ll be back before you know it.”

“I’ll miss you all the same,” she returned, now giving Susan a hug. “Now don’t rush into anything, Su. Be certain about what you decide before you do.”

Susan nodded. “Of course, Lucy.”

As Lucy was hugging Tumnus, Peridan came up to them. “Majesties, Captain Rence tells me that the tide is beginning to turn.”

“That’s it then,” Lucy nodded. “Good luck. All of you.”

“And you, Lucy,” Edmund nodded. He gave her one last hug and then turned for the ship. Peridan, Susan, and Corin followed, and last came Tumnus, sniffing a bit. But as soon as he was boarded the plank was drawn in, the lines cast off and the Splendor Hyaline set out of the harbor, farewelled by the song of merpeople under the water. But Edmund could see Lucy stayed on the dock to see them go for a very long time.

Narnia had been, for a very long time, a seafaring nation. Growing up as king, Edmund had learned navigation by the stars from centaurs, how to swim from merpeople, and how to sail from grizzled old fishermen with gnarled hands, most of whom had naiad relatives. If necessary he could have commanded the ship himself, as could Susan. They could both perform any of the jobs the crew engaged in, as well. He could also take the ship’s boat, alone, to the Lone Islands and come ashore exactly where he intended to.

And since Narnia was a nation so marine capable, when they set out to build a ship fit for their monarchs, they did not do the job halfway. The Splendor Hyaline was a large ship, but had been designed with a narrow keel, which made her much faster than most other ships of comparable size. The three tall masts and numerous sails made it almost easy for her to catch the slightest breeze, and so she seemed to pick up speed almost without effort sometimes. Then there were the state chambers that Edmund, Susan, and Corin had for the voyage. Huge rooms with beautifully carved pillars of dark wood and paneling on the walls and thick carpets on the floor.

Edmund could have sailed on this ship for the rest of his life.

They first made course for Terebinthia, which was a small island off the coast of Archenland, and landed there late the next day. The Queen Leeria insisted that Edmund, Susan, and Corin take supper with her that night and remain as her guests until the next morning. And while she was an excellent hostess, Edmund was disappointed to see that she was throwing a full court ball after supper and insisted that they all partake. As he suspected, it was an excuse for her to inveigle him into dancing with her several times and drop strong hints about the Narnian succession and who would be king after he and Peter were gone. Having encountered her lures before, Edmund was less-than-excited to be subjected to them again, for all that Susan was sent into fits of giggles, and Corin and Peridan both very unsympathetically made no attempts to rescue him.

The next morning they weren’t able to make their escape back to the ship until after lunchtime, and while Edmund told no one about Leeria’s interest, Corin and Susan had no compunctions about sharing that intelligence, so that by that evening the captain’s table greeted him with unanimous smirks of amusement.

The next day was better, however. The whole day was at sea, and Edmund made himself useful—and ordered Corin to do so as well—by helping the sailors in as many small jobs around the ship as he could discover. Susan declined, immersing herself in a book on Calormene history.

Corin had been, thus far, absolutely useless to the entire crew. Small mishaps and accidents seemed to plague him, and so today, Edmund was hoping he could gain some experience that would keep him out of further trouble.

Unfortunately, what actually happened was so much the opposite it was shocking.

One of the sails had developed a tear, so Rence sent several sailors up in the rigging to bring it down for a repair. They were busy working when two of the lines got snarled on one another. Corin saw the trouble and swarmed up into the rigging himself to help.

Edmund tried shouting at him to come down, but it was too late, and once Corin got an idea into his head, it was nearly impossible to knock it out.

It was actually going all right for a time. Despite all prior experience, Corin managed to do very well getting the two lines untangled, and it seemed he would come down with no more exciting of a tale to tell. Unfortunately, Corin’s balance lasted only two seconds after this thought passed through Edmund’s mind, and he started to fall. So, he reached out to catch himself and managed to snag onto one side of the tear in the sail.

The stressed fabric gave way in his hand, and he pulled the tear into an enormous gash as he fell, and he was saved only from a very unpleasant landing on the deck by the rocking of the ship, which sent him over the rail and into the ocean.

Aside from the trouble of fishing him out, the crew now had to fetch a spare sail from the ship’s supplies, since the original one was quite beyond repair after Corin had finished with it. Fortunately, they all determined the incident to be more funny than troublesome and so Corin had to endure nothing worse than a great deal of being laughed at. As he was inclined to laugh at things himself, he had no trouble joining in. However, his reputation as a terrible sailor was thoroughly established from then on.

The next morning they put in at Narrowhaven in the Lone Islands and were welcomed by Duke Garren with a great deal of pomp and circumstance. He feasted them excellently and Edmund managed to snatch a few minutes to himself that night and he snuck out to a nearby grassy field where he lay on his back and watched the stars for a long quiet time.

The next day, while Peridan topped off their supplies, Edmund and Susan spent with Lord Garren, at his request. Garren did an excellent job administrating the Lone Islands, but every so often he needed one or other of the Narnian monarchs to authorize this or that. It was, of course, a lot of boring paperwork, but, since they were present, Edmund felt it was better to get it all out of the way.

The day after that, they were back on the ship and now, having rounded the desert cape south of Archenland, made straight for Tashbaan. Corin, was still encountering and causing small mishaps around the ship, and had it was beginning to be less funny to some. Edmund was vaguely astonished at the amount of trouble he managed to stir up. The crew had begun to avoid him, and Captain Rence, not realizing Edmund could hear him, even remarked to the mate, “If I didn’t know him for a fact to be the Archenlandish prince, I’d swear he was a saboteur and lock him into the brig. I don’t know how he manages it.”

The result of all of which was that when the Splendor Hyaline at last put into port at Tashbaan, Corin was far happier at making landfall than Tumnus, who had spent most of the voyage being terribly seasick.

No one, however, was happier than Susan, who rushed to greet Rabadash with a great deal of affection. Edmund couldn’t observe this with anything but dismay. In fact, the only thing about the whole arrival that cheered him was the fact that no one else noticed the raven that flew up to land on the top spar of the main-mast.

“Her majesty truly likes him, then,” Tumnus sighed beside Edmund, watching the two speaking as they descended the gangplank themselves.

“It would seem so, my friend,” Edmund agreed. “This trip will be…interesting, to say the least.”

“Indeed, your majesty,” Tumnus agreed.

Corin, who was looking around interestedly, talking to Lord Peridan, seemed interested in the horses he saw some of the Calormene nobles riding and they began avidly speculating on this one or that one. Edmund suspected that would keep them busy for several moments and so he turned back to Tumnus. “She is seriously considering his suit.”

Tumnus modulated his pace to be slower and Edmund matched him. “I have heard this,” the faun said. “Your majesty…I would like very much to see Queen Susan, and all of your beloved majesties, happy. And closer and friendlier relations with Calormene could only be good. But I am very concerned at a match with Rabadash. He was charming enough to Susan in Narnia, but to everyone else?”

“I agree with you Tumnus, but I think that these are things Susan must discover for herself. His manners were plain enough before, but she did not see them. I am afraid she will not be persuaded,” Edmund said.

Tumnus blinked. “That is distressing indeed, your majesty. Is there anything I may do?”

Edmund shook his head. “The objections to this match have been voiced. Now we must simply await her decision.”

Tumnus nodded, and their feet touched the dock. Their conference was now at an end. Edmund moved to join his sister and made a perfect courtly bow to Prince Rabadash. “Your highness. How excellent to see you again so soon after our parting! And my deepest thanks to you at the kindness of your welcome to us,” Edmund said.

Rabadash offered a bow in response and said, “Your majesty is welcome, of course,” before turning back to face Susan.

Even Susan noted that slight, although she was far too well mannered to make mention of it.

Rabadash led Susan to a litter, the Narnians fell in behind, and they began to move through the city.

Chapter Text

Tashbaan was nothing like a Narnian city. First off, the architecture was completely different. The whole city was set onto a hill with the temple of Tash at the very top and the Tisroc’s palace just beneath that, and the hill was completely covered in buildings. Most of the buildings had flat roofs, and many that didn’t—most of which were domed—had a narrow walkway around the outside and decorative, but entirely functional battlements. Edmund could see at once that it was an excellently defensible city. Apart from that, however, it was lovely. The gardens gave off smells he was not accustomed to, of course, and the fruits that seemed to grow easily in Tashbaan were the same sorts that Narnians struggled in persuading to grow at all. Orange, lemon, and pomelo trees were scattered here and there.

Then there were the people. Edmund hadn’t seen so many humans in one place since he’d left England. People traded in the markets, and passed along the streets, and wandered in and out of this house or that. Poor people, who were dirty and ragged, were pressed back against the walk ways as rich people, dressed in bright colors, paraded grandly here and there. The city was altogether teeming with so many people that Edmund began to suspect that the population of this one city was equal to the human population of all of Narnia.

They traveled all the way up to the palace and entered through the grand front entrance, with what looked to be every member of the palace guard in attendance and saluting. Most of their attendants fell away at this point, and so it was only Susan, Edmund, Peridan, Corin, Tumnus, and Rence who accompanied them along the walks.

Calormene’s royal palace of the Tisroc--who was frequently wished immortality--was a rather famous building and so Edmund had of course heard stories about the Hall of Black Marble, into which they first stepped. While, in a sense, the Hall of Black Marble was fairly unremarkable, living exactly up to its name, Edmund had not realized just how grand such a place would really look. The dark stone was quite striking and he was unwillingly impressed.

And so it went. The Hall of Pillars and the Hall of Statues, and finally down a colonnade, open to the outdoors and lined with trees of white flowers. At last they came to a pair of huge copper doors, which were both opened at their approach.

The Calormene throne room had a central walkway paved in gold, and pillars of white marble shot through with gold veins. The court wore clothes in a riot of color, and above them all sat Rasheed Tisroc, ruler of Calormen.

He was a fat man, covered in jewels and colored silk, all done up in such overwhelming grandiosity that Edmund found the picture he presented altogether ridiculous. However, much as he dearly longed to laugh at the man, he bowed very low and very courteously, along with the other Narnians and politely awaited the Tisroc’s words.

However, it was Rabadash who stepped forward. “O my father, and O the delight of my eyes, may I present to you, the immortal Tisroc, Susan, Queen of Narnia, and her brother Edmund, King of Narnia. It is my wish that you receive them, and their company, into our court for a visit, as my guests,” Rabadash said, indicating them. His hand remained pointing at Edmund who recognized a cue when he saw it.

“Your most Serene Excellency is most gracious,” Edmund replied. “We are grateful for this audience with yourself and your kindness thus far bestowed on us. Narnia is pleased at this opportunity to deepen the bonds of friendship between our two nations.”

The Tisroc blinked, appearing to expect a bit more from him, but then said, “May they grow strong indeed, King Edmund. And may Tash himself bless your visit with a thousand blessings. You must all remain here today, to see our court.”

“It would be our greatest pleasure, sire,” Susan said with a pleasant lilt in her voice. Edmund had never managed to figure out how she and Lucy managed to get that musical quality in their tones when they wanted it. He’d heard them both sounding snappish enough times to know it was all for show, but as usual, it had the desired effect. Rabadash and the Tisroc both perked up and looked at her with gallant smiles.

Edmund tried not to roll his eyes.

They observed, that afternoon, as the Tisroc and Rabadash spent some time in court. Edmund found himself doubting that any of the visitors, however, were not staged, as each new arrival of So-and-so Tarkaan or Thus-and-such Tarkheena was more effusive and gushing in his or her praise of the Tisroc and his “effervescent magnanimousness”--a pronouncement from one of the tarkheenas which nearly sent Corin into fits of laughter and caused Tumnus to “accidentally” tread on his toes--than the last.

However, they eventually called a halt to the audiences and the Tisroc provided lunch for his Narnian visitors. Much like everything else, of course, the meal was fantastic. If it had not been so delicious, Edmund would have hated it for just that reason. He was beginning to grow tired of so much grandiosity, so it was with genuine pleasure that he accepted Rabadash’s invitation to go hunting the next day.

After lunch an aid came to the Narnian visitors and told them they would be residing a short distance away from the palace, and so they were led through the streets with a crier ahead them, to a nearby house where they all were grateful to be able to rest and relax a bit.

“Well,” Susan said, when she joined Edmund and Corin in the house’s upstairs drawing room, “that palace is terribly grand.”

“A large house to be mistress of, should you marry Rabadash,” Edmund mused.

“I may not be its mistress should the Tisroc live forever, as everyone wishes him to,” Susan replied with a hint of mischief in her eyes.

Corin gave up and sank into a couch, laughing. “I can not take some of these people seriously! Do they never relax?”

Edmund favored him with a wry grin. “It seems the nobility does not. Perhaps there are Calormenes who do, but I doubt we shall meet them on this visit.”

Peridan entered the room at that moment and bowed to all assembled. “Forgive me, your majesties, and your highness, for this interruption, but you may have the opportunity to meet more Calormene nobility rather sooner than you had thought. This invitation just arrived from the palace.”

He held out a vellum parchment, sealed not just with wax but a tassel as well. Edmund took it and said, “We are invited to a ball to be held in honor of our visit, tonight, at the palace. It begins at seven o’clock.”

Susan blinked. “Why did Rabadash not tell us earlier? I must begin preparing at once.”

Corin blinked. “But it’s only two-twenty!”

Susan smiled. “One day, Corin, you will learn not to question these things.” And with that pronouncement, she vanished.

Corin shrugged. “Well then.”

“No matter, Corin,” Edmund said. “She’ll be busy most of the afternoon. Shall we play a game of chess?”

That night, they all reported to the palace, decked out in all their finery. Edmund found himself struggling to keep up with the local dance customs and quickly retreated to another room where he could mingle and speak to people without either giving offense or making a fool of himself. Corin seemed to be everywhere at once, flirting absolutely incorrigibly with--as far as Edmund could count--at least four different Calormene ladies at once. He had no trouble with the Calormene dances, and so Edmund cheerfully assigned him to keeping an eye on Susan, who was likewise a capable dancer.

He found himself in another philosophical debate with the ambassadors Irukan, Ravid, and Arvish, although this time he had Peridan’s help. And, eventually, it was time for supper.

For all the compliments he could offer to Calormen, the food was somewhere near the top of Edmund’s list. Spiced fish and beef over rice, shrimp, salad, several different sorts of chilled fruits, and a lovely sweet wine. It was absolutely delicious, and Edmund wanted nothing more dearly after dinner than to curl up with a good book. Naturally, of course, that meant he was required to go back out to the party and do several more rounds with the people there. A few of the princesses did manage to maneuver him into dancing with them, and he had to admit that Princess Pariva was an excellent conversation partner. Thankfully, she was his partner for one of the longer dances and occasionally gave him hints as to what came next when she noticed him struggling. When he bowed to her afterward and said thank you, it was not entirely perfunctory.

“And thank you, your majesty,” she replied with a kind smile. “Your company has been most welcome.”

That dance was the highlight of Edmund’s evening, and by the time their party managed to return to the house where they were staying, it was late and he was exhausted. Remembering Sallowpad, he left the window of his room open when he went to bed, but the raven did not put in an appearance that night.

The next day Edmund, Peridan, and Corin went hunting with Rabadash and his party. And when they returned, they met up with Susan, Arvish, and his wife Lasaraleen for lunch. Only two minutes after meeting her, Edmund could not be anything but happy he was not sitting next to her. The girl giggled and tittered her whole way through lunch, clearly without a thought in her head beyond dresses and dancing. He found himself devoutly wishing to speak to Pariva again, who was competent in both dressing and dancing, but was far more interested in speaking about politics and literature. Peridan, who was forced to sit next to Lasaraleen, later reported that she actually did have a kind disposition, however much it was covered up with the giggles.

And then it was back to the palace, where Edmund and Peridan argued with Irukan, Ravid, Arvish, and Rabadash over the wedding settlements. And still, that night, Sallowpad did not appear.

It was not until late the next night, when Edmund finally escaped into his room, that the raven came winging in through the window, startling him, as he landed on one of Edmund’s carved bedposts.

“By the Lion’s mane, Sallowpad!” Edmund exclaimed quietly. “Don’t fly at my face in the dark like that!”

“My apologies, sire,” the raven replied. While his tone was perfectly correct, Edmund detected just a hint of amusement in it. Since the room was actually well lit by two hanging oil lamps, as well as several candles in mirrored sconces carved into the walls here and there, Edmund supposed the amusement was justified.

“Very well, then,” Edmund groused, good-naturedly, sitting on the bed and tugging off his boots. “Have your joke. What have you discovered?”

“That the Calormenes keep a very good garrison,” Sallowpad said. “They maintain a standing army, and there are almost fifteen hundred men-at-arms and five hundred riders in this city alone.”

Edmund’s eyebrows went up. “Two thousand men in the city? Why on earth do they need such an enormous force?”

“My concern, sire, is that they don’t,” Sallowpad replied quietly.

“Explain,” Edmund returned.

“My observation is that the barracks are overfull. There are more men than there are duty shifts, and some of them seem unfamiliar with the city. It is my belief that the army here in Tashbaan is at a greater number than is customary,” Sallowpad answered.

“Do you know why?”

“No, your majesty. I can not identify any particular threat,” the raven answered.

Edmund frowned deeply. “You don’t stuff a garrison to the gills with extra soldiers for no reason at all. We’re missing something.”

“Yes, your majesty. I believe so. With your permission, I would like to maintain observation of the Calormenes.”

“Please do,” Edmund replied. Sallowpad was fluttering his wings and hopping slightly from foot to foot, which, in a bird, is an almost sure sign that they want to tell you something. “What is it?”

“Your majesty, I fear this is not my place to say, but I have a terrible feeling that this trip to Tashbaan was unwise.”

A deep silence fell between them. Edmund looked at Sallowpad for a long moment and finally elected to file his warning away for later. Instead he nodded, then said, “So far, I’ve told no one else you’re here. However, I’m going to inform Peridan, Tumnus, Rence, Thornbut, and Mikelston tomorrow. You may make your next report to any of the six of us.” He paused, then said, “Is there anything else you need?”

“No, your majesty.” The raven fluttered his wings a bit, before looking at Edmund and saying, “However, sire…I find that I am very glad to have someone to speak to.”

“I’m sorry to ask this pretense of you,” Edmund sighed.

“It is my pleasure to serve you, your majesty,” Sallowpad replied, with a note in his voice that Edmund had long ago identified as the bird version of fondness.

He looked at the raven and finally said, “Well, then. Dismissed. Report back as soon as you may.”

Sallowpad spread his wings and bowed. “Your majesty.” Then he fluttered out the window and was gone.

They didn’t see Sallowpad for the next several days, although Edmund did mention him to the others. When he did report back in, it was with different news. Prince Rabadash was frequently seen in council with the three ambassadors for long hours, and he was not happy that Susan had yet to give him an answer to his suit. He ranted about her in his own room, sometimes.

This became the pattern for three solid weeks of parties, hunts, and diplomatic meetings. Whenever they could get away from their social obligations, Edmund, Peridan, and Tumnus argued with Irukan, Arvish, Ravid, and Rabadash over wedding settlements. And, as their social obligations were many and various, all three of them grew more and more tired and irritable. It was a clear strategy to keep them off of their game, and Edmund hated it, but it was working. He felt terrible.

In fact, the only part of all of this he could count himself satisfied with was that Susan was not flirting with Rabadash nearly so much anymore. In fact, as he grew more and more rude and irritable with the Narnians, she grew more and more distant from him. Her responses to his hints about a marriage were more frequently hesitant and vague.

Unfortunately, however happy this made him otherwise, it did mean that they were loosing ground with Rabadash. Edmund wasn’t sure if he was even concerned with what they were meant to be arguing about anymore.

He found himself, at one point, questioning Pariva during a ball—in a relatively oblique way—to discover if they were simply being hindered by cultural differences.

“I have noticed that Calormenes seem to place a very high value on poetry,” he observed to her one evening, as they left the dance floor. With the princess coaching him, he felt confident enough to stand up for a few sets. He had a suspicion this had saved him from gaining a reputation for coldness.

Pariva gave him an amused glance and said, “Do you tire of the quotations of learned men that you must daily endure?”

Edmund gave a rueful smile. “I must confess that I do. Poetry in Narnia is quite different.”

“Oh?” The princess lifted a dark brow in question.

“Our poets more frequently tell stories than give advice,” Edmund explained. He thought for a moment, then said, “‘The lord and lovely lady of the skies, Whose shining dance before our eyes, Must fix the hearts of all who see, With their love and all their majesty.’ Those are the opening lines of ‘The Ballad of Tarva and Alambil.’”

Pariva blinked. “Quite different indeed, I see. But lovely.”

“But I am curious. Why might a person quote a poet during a conversation?” Edmund had been about ready to throw things at the three Calormene ambassadors for all their quoting of adages. But realizing that perhaps he did not understand the full picture of how they were being used in negotiations, he had resolved to ask for some advice.

“Oh, a number of reasons. I believe we ought to find some refreshments, and then I shall explain some of them to you,” Pariva answered with a grin.

Edmund fetched her some spiced wine, and some for himself, along with a few of the cheeses that were available, and joined her near one of the windows.

“Now then, one might quote the poets, obviously, pretentiously. If you believe you are more educated or wish to make someone less educated feel aware of their lack, quotation is always useful. This is, of course, dangerous. Not all well-read persons appear so at first glance,” Pariva said with a grin.

Edmund, recalling several times he had been made foolish by people he had not suspected could do so, answered her grin with one of his own. “Just so.”

“A much better reason is because one feels that this poet or that has expressed something more precisely or more thoughtfully than one feels capable of doing oneself. The poet Cestalar wrote, ‘Do not picture Lord Kalidan as though he were putting things into your mind. He works best by keeping things out.’ I've always thought this a very astute point.”

Lord Kalidan, as Edmund recalled from his schooling, was the Calormene god who delighted in chaos and misdeeds. People who did evil things were often said to be “worshipers of Kalidan,” and open worship of him was indeed outlawed in Calormen.

“One might also quote a poet to support an argument that was weak, by claiming that a poet agreed with you,” Pariva continued. “And occasionally, if your conversation partner is not well-versed in the poets, you might claim a poet had written something that is, in reality, your own opinion. This may protect it from being questioned too closely.

She smiled mischievously and added, “I have always found this last a useful trick for causing the Grand Vizier or other of the royal advisors to stop plaguing me about one thing or other. I do not believe anyone but Kidrash Tarkaan has ever caught me out on it.”

Edmund laughed at this, however much this report dampened his spirits. Pariva had told him nothing he might not have thought of himself. Whyever their negotiations were breaking down, it would seem cultural differences had little to do with it.

He was so distracted that he failed to notice Lasaraleen on the approach and was forced to dance with her. He suspected that she regretted this more than he afterwards, however, as he trod on her toes twice during the dance and came close to doing so a dozen more times. He was terribly embarrassed and apologized very profusely, and she naturally forgave him, but she also avoided dancing with him from then onwards.

Chapter Text

Over the course of their stay, Sallowpad continued bringing them reports from various portions of Tashbaan. He rarely observed any one thing for very long, to ensure that he was not caught out. Rabadash's irritation with Susan's apparent indecision appeared to have grown to a fever pitch. The shipping in and out of Tashbaan continued merrily with no sign of an attack or nearby enemy. But the garrison of soldiers only grew larger, and now, with the infantry and cavalry and—most alarmingly—heavy defensive armaments, there were about five thousand men-at-arms stationed in the city.

Although Edmund could've guessed this last himself, or near enough. They could hardly step out of the house without seeming to trip over some soldier or other, and it was never the same man twice.

However, it was late into their third week that he brought Edmund the worst possible news.

He fluttered in that night, out of breath, and clearly concerned, just as Edmund was about to put away his book and go to bed for the night.

"Sallowpad?" Edmund asked.

"Your majesty!" Sallowpad said. "I have been watching the garrison again, and I am afraid, sire, that I have worked out what prompted this increase in Calormene troops in the city."

"Oh?"

"Us, sire. Or, more specifically, your party. The initial increase of troops in Tashbaan coincides almost exactly with Rabadash's return from Narnia and his request to the Tisroc to bring Queen Susan here for a visit."

The terrible suspicion that had been growing in Edmund's mind coalesced into a horrible conclusion. "He does not care about the wedding settlement at all," he whispered. In fact, unless he missed his guess, Rabadash had no intention of letting Susan do anything but marry him, whether she agreed to the arrangement or not.

"Sire?" Sallowpad asked.

"Rabadash no longer seems to be negotiating with the goal of reaching an agreement with us," Edmund explained quietly. "And the force at the garrison is easily sufficient to defend this city against any attack, is it not?"

Sallowpad nodded. "I believe so."

"Sallowpad, your days as a spy are over as of now. From now on, I think it best if you remained with us in the house. It may very soon be the case that you will be the only person able to take a message to Narnia," Edmund said.

"Very well, your majesty," the raven said. "However, with your permission, I would prefer to stay in the courtyard, barring rain."

"All right," Edmund nodded. "But stay close." He did not even see when the raven flew out the window. His mind was stuck on another, much more difficult, puzzle. How were they to get out of this city? By the lion's mane—no. He was far too angry with Aslan right now to even contemplate actually asking him for anything. Even guidance.

The next morning, however, he realized that the true disaster had waited to strike. They were required at a river party to the west of the city. That morning, the Narnians all rose and left their house early in the morning and went down to the river, preceded, as usual, by a crier before them.

Peridan had a rather disappointed look on his face as they fell in behind the crier to travel through the city. Edmund looked at him curiously. "My lord? Is something wrong?"

"Not precisely, your majesty," he replied. "It's simply that I wish we could travel through the city without summarily pushing aside everyone in our path. I dislike it, sire."

Edmund smiled. "I find that I agree with you, Lord Peridan, but the alternative is to shut ourselves up in that house, which would not go over well with our hosts."

Peridan got a rueful expression on his face at that. "Perhaps not, sire, but we would get a decent rest if we did so."

"A fond memory I have of less cautious times," Edmund agreed sadly, thinking of what he had learned from Sallowpad the night before.

"Your majesty," Tumnus said suddenly behind him.

"What is it?" Edmund asked, turning to the faun.

"Your majesty, where is Prince Corin?" he asked.

"He's right…" Edmund began to point to where Corin had been, but stopped himself as he looked around. He scanned their entire party twice before looking over the faces around them on the street, but it was no use.

Corin was nowhere to be seen.

Peridan gasped softly as he arrived at the same conclusion. "Could he have been taken?"

"If he has been," Edmund replied darkly, "it will not have been by anyone who would admit it to us." He glanced around again and made a decision. "Pass the word among the Narnians, but do so quietly. Whatever you do, Rabadash and his attendants are not to hear of this. If they don't know already, our telling them will not be helpful. Corin must be found, by us, as soon as possible."

The word passed quickly, so that by the time they boarded the river barge, every one of the Narnian party was keeping an eye open for the missing prince. Susan, though she covered well, was utterly distraught. She barely looked up when Arvish Tarkaan and his wife Lasaraleen were introduced and picked at her food all during lunch. Peridan, who to his utter misfortune was sitting next to Lasaraleen again and had to endure her unending giggling, managed to maintain a courteous demeanor towards her, but Edmund could tell his mind was elsewhere.

Sadly, they were not to receive any better fortune after they left the boat. They were swept immediately back to the palace. By dint of clever misdirection, Edmund was able to get Mikelston and Thornbut free from the main group and sent them back to their house to get Sallowpad and Rence to search the Splendor Hyaline, and anywhere else that any of the four of them could think to look.

However, as it turned out, they were not the only ones in the Tisroc's court that day looking for someone. Edmund and the entire Narnian party were stuck spending the afternoon observing court yet again, and conversing with the various tarkaans and viziers and generals and so forth there, when Edmund noticed a man who was very subtly making his way around the edges of the room, speaking with everyone he encountered. After watching the man for several moments, Edmund was sure he was on the approach and so simply waited for a bit.

After a few moments the man was introduced to Edmund by a nearby tarkaan as Kidrash Tarkaan, lord of Calavar. Edmund very interestedly began talking with the only man to have caught Pariva out on her false poetry, and was quite impressed by what he discovered.

Unlike Rabadash, who seemed to know nothing about how Tashbaan functioned, exactly, Kidrash was not just familiar with the internal workings of his province, but was a capable agronomist in his own right, and he and Edmund spent several minutes in pleasant discussion of the ramifications of politics on trade agreements—a subject Edmund usually found a horrible bore—before Kidrash finally brought up the reason he had been working his way around the room.

"I understand that you have been staying in Tashbaan for some time now," he said.

"Indeed, so, sir," Edmund replied. "I find the city has much to recommend it."

"Have you, by any chance, encountered a tarkheena named Aravis while you have been here? Perhaps in the company of Ahoshta Tarkaan?"

"The Grand Vizier?" Edmund asked in surprise. Of all the men in the Tisroc's court likely to attract women, Ahoshta Tarkaan was near the bottom of the list, Grand Vizier or no. "No, my lord, I have seen no tarkheenas with him, nor have I encountered anyone of that name. May I ask what she has done?"

"She has…" He frowned deeply. "She is my daughter, your majesty. I fear we parted on something of a misunderstanding, and it is my wish to put it right." The depth of distress on the man's face was almost heartbreaking.

Edmund nodded. "I fear, sir, that I can be of no help to you. I have not seen her."

Kidrash's face fell. "Very well, then. I must offer my apologies for my rudeness, but I believe it best if I continue searching."

"No apologies are necessary," Edmund replied, well understanding the man's worry from his own fright over Corin. "May Aslan bless your search, sir."

The man nodded and moved on.

It was only that night, when they had finally gotten back to the guest house, that Edmund realized the depth of Susan's distress.

As soon as the doors were closed on their Calormene escorts, Susan very calmly walked to the salon, picked up a vase, and flung it with all her strength at the far wall with a cry.

"Susan!" Edmund admonished in surprise.

"What difference does it make, Ed?" Susan said. "Oh, what are we to do? How can we face King Lune again with news like this? Where is he?" She started to sink to the floor and Edmund caught her. She wrapped her arms around his neck, crying desperately. "Where is Corin? He has to be safe, Ed! He has to!"

"We'll find him, Su," Edmund told her. "Courage, my lady."

She sighed and said, "You're right, of course, Ed. Oh, I can't think. I can't…"

"Go to bed," Edmund told her. "Go to bed, and we'll tell Rabadash you're sick tomorrow morning."

Susan nodded and allowed herself to be led away, still crying to her room. Edmund wandered over to the shattered pieces of the vase she'd thrown, picked up the largest he could find, and flung it into the wall himself.

The crash was not nearly so satisfying as he wished, but having vented as much as he felt was justifiable on the furnishings, he sank down into the closest chair and put his head into his hands. This was how Tumnus found him several moments later when he came in.

"Your majesty?" Tumnus said quietly.

Edmund raised his head tiredly and looked at their old friend.

"Sallowpad has reported back from the Splendor Hyaline," Tumnus told him, referring to the raven who was with them on the journey. "He says that Prince Corin is not there."

"It was unlikely that he would be," Edmund said, nodding.

"Sire, surely Corin will be making every attempt to rejoin us," Tumnus said.

"And we must hope that his efforts are successful," Edmund replied, "because if we can not locate him, it is the end of Narnia. We can not defend ourselves against Harfang and Archenland and Calormen all at once."

Tumnus frowned deeply at that.

"What is it, Tumnus?" Edmund asked.

"Sire, if I may, I believe my news can wait. When we have settled the matter of Prince Corin, I shall tell you," Tumnus replied.

Edmund sighed, realizing that this meant that whatever Tumnus had to say was more bad news. Considering he would have to tell him what he suspected soon, he understood. Corin going missing had chased it entirely out of his mind. "All right then. At least until tomorrow evening."

"Yes, sire."

Edmund put his head back in his hands, desperately trying to think of some way they could justify searching the city tomorrow. Perhaps he could request another tour? But no matter how he wracked his brains, nothing sufficiently thorough came up.

Finally, he looked away, into the fire. He could think of no solutions nor see any hope. And, almost as if Aslan were in the room with him, he could swear he heard the lion's voice.

"Do you trust me, Edmund?"

He thought about it. He had followed Aslan his whole life, but he had never been so afraid in his whole life.

Except that wasn't true, now that he considered it. He'd been held by the White Witch, and as far as he'd know, all of Narnia was going to be overtaken by her—again—and his brother and sisters would all be killed by her along with himself. He would've lost everything. And Aslan had not abandoned them then, no matter how bad it had seemed.

Did he trust Aslan or not?

"Yes." The answer was suddenly so firm that it took him a moment to realize he'd spoken out loud. He did not understand anymore what Aslan wished to lead him to, but he would not turn back now. "I suppose we shall simply have to do our best," he sighed.

Now if only he wasn't so tired…

He found himself waking up on that chair the next morning. A light blanket had been placed over him, and the shoes he had been wearing the previous day were set neatly beside the chair. A new vase had been set in place of the old, the pieces of which were nowhere to be seen. He sighed, wishing he had the energy to properly appreciate these gestures, and got up.

After he had changed clothes, he, Peridan, Tumnus, and Rence went up to the palace for breakfast.

Edmund found himself seated near Rabadash, who said, after the requisite pleasantries, "So tell me, sir, when your sister intends to make me the happiest of men?"

Edmund blinked and said, "It is a very fortunate man indeed who is so certain of a woman's mind."

"Queen Susan, the lovely jewel of the northern kingdoms though she be, has yet to give me a firm answer in any direction," Rabadash replied, "but she shall not say no. Of this, I am sure."

A cold hand of fear seized Edmund's heart. And though he hated to malign his sister, he had to say something. So he laughed lightly and said, "Women, your highness, are as changeable as the wind, as you must know. And my sister is the best of women, but she is one of their inscrutable number. I would not be so certain, sir, of her answer."

Rabadash's eyes narrowed, and though he never once was less than courteous, a cold thread was in his voice now. "You must understand, sir, that we in Calormen do not share your northern weather. Our winds are not so fickle. I am afraid I do not take your meaning."

Edmund did not like that answer at all. "I only mean that women are prone to changes in heart, and often are not certain themselves of what they will do." He would ordinarily have preferred to cut off his own tongue than to say Susan was incapable of making up her own mind, but this was his last resort.

"Women in Calormen are not," Rabadash replied. "And your sister, sir, is indeed in Calormen."

Edmund's heart sank. Rabadash's subtlety was as much on display as ever. So they were prisoners and would be kept there until the prince had what he wished. And if he got it by force, Narnia would be forced to go to war with Calormen. And if he did not get it at all, Calormen would attack them. It was certain now. The course was set. Though Edmund maintained a polite presence throughout the rest of the meal, he did not taste a bite of it.

He left the palace in the worst of spirits.

"That was troubling, your majesty" Peridan observed beside him, as they turned down one of the paths out of the palace. "Irukan Tarkaan had a great deal to say to me on the subject of Narnian arrogance this morning."

Edmund sighed. "Lord Peridan, if only that were our only problem." He looked down as they came to the end of that way, and turned on to the main street. "You see, my lord—" Edmund looked up and was about to continue when someone in the crowd behind Peridan caught his attention. He raised his hand, pointed, and said, "There he is! There's our runaway!"

In two strides he crossed the street and seized Corin by the shoulder, hauling him away from the crowd and smacking him, and then giving him a firm shake. "Shame on you, my lord! What could you have been thinking? Queen Susan's eyes are red with weeping because of you. You were missing the whole night! Where have you been?"

Corin, who was dressed, for some reason, in rags and bare feet, looked up at him in terror and astonishment, and for one second Edmund thought that he had never seen this boy before. He looked like he wanted to run away. In fact, he actually seemed to be looking around at the crowd for help for a moment, but then seemed to give up and just stared at the ground, quaking in fright.

Edmund frowned in consternation. Corin ran everywhere and got into trouble and had boundless energy. Whatever was frightening him must have rattled him quite badly indeed. He motioned to Peridan. "Take one of his lordship's hands, Peridan, if you would, and I'll take the other."

Corin looked even more depressed at this, but Edmund knew his fears would be better eased away from so many eyes. "And now, on. Our royal sister's mind will be greatly eased when she sees this young troublemaker safe with us."

They moved forward again. Edmund looked down at Corin's head and said, "What, your highness, could have taken you from us all night? It must have been terribly important to justify disappearing without so much as a by-your-leave."

Corin said nothing, looking at his feet.

Edmund considered shaking him again, just to get some sort of reaction from him, but it was no use. Corin's eyes were firmly fixed on his feet.

"And do you have any idea how terrified Queen Susan has been for you? It was poorly done of you, indeed, to do this to us," Edmund continued.

Corin, who seemed utterly defeated at this point, flatly refused to speak.

"And now you're all mum," Edmund sighed. "I must plainly tell you, prince, that this hangdog silence becomes one of your standing even less than your escape. To run away might pass for a boy's joke with some spirit in it. But the king's son of Archenland should stand by his deeds; not hang his head like a Calormene slave."

Nothing came from the prince. Edmund looked at Peridan in consternation. Peridan looked back in equal confusion.

It was only a few moments later that Corin was safe in the house, and Edmund breathed more easily than he had done since yesterday morning. When they entered the upstairs chamber, where the queen was attended by Thornbut, Mikelston, and Sallowpad, Susan caught sight of Corin instantly and flew across the room to shower him with hugs and kisses.

Corin did not resist, but Edmund could not like the absolute shock he saw on the boy's face. He seemed totally bewildered by Susan's concern. Something was deeply wrong with the boy.

"Oh Corin, Corin, how could you?" Susan demanded. "And you and I such close friends ever since your mother died. And what should I have said to your royal father if I came home without you? It would have been a cause almost of war between Archenland and Narnia, which are friends since time out of mind. It was bad, dearest, very bad of you to use us so."

Corin did not speak.

Susan, who had pulled back some, but had her hands still on his shoulders gave Corin a shake of her own. "Where have you been, Corin?"

Corin opened his mouth and Edmund hoped for a moment they would find out what had happened.

"I-I don't know."

"There it is, Susan," Edmund said in consternation. "I could get no story out of him, true or false."

"Your majesties!" Tumnus said, in a voice Edmund had not heard in years. It had been a long time since Tumnus called him to account like that. "Queen Susan! King Edmund! His highness has had a touch of the sun. Look at him! He is dazed. He does not know where he is."

Edmund did not miss that Corin looked absolutely shocked on seeing Tumnus, and was not entirely sure that sunstroke accounted entirely for his confusion. However, whatever else there was to the story, it was plain they were not going to find it out at that moment, so he pulled Corin into a chair, patted him on the shoulder and said, "We will speak later, Corin. For now, do rest."

Susan put him on the couch, with several pillows, gave him an iced drink, and said, "Now rest and do not speak. You shall be quite all right in a little while." And Edmund had to admit that he did look better than he had since they'd met in the street.

Once Corin was dealt with, he turned to Susan. "Now, madam, what do you think? We have been in this city three full weeks. Have you yet settled in your mind whether you will marry your Calormene suitor, this Prince Rabadash, or not?"

Susan shook her head and Edmund, although he knew this assured a war between Narnia and Calormen in the near future, was more than pleased to see it. He could never have been happy seeing Susan married to a man who would have had her by force should she have tried to say no.

"No, brother, not for all the jewels in Tashbaan."

"Honestly, sister," Edmund said, "I would have loved you less if you had taken him. And I must say that from the time the Tisroc's ambassadors came into Narnia to discuss this marriage, and later when the Prince was our guest at Cair Paravel, it was a mystery to me how you ever could find it in your heart to show him so much favor."

"That was my mistake, Edmund, for which I must beg your mercy," Susan answered sadly. "But when he was with us in Narnia, truthfully, this prince was different from how he is here in Tashabaan." She looked around. "You all remember the wonderful feats he did in that tournament that our brother the High King put on for him, and how meek and courteous he was to us for the space of seven days." She sighed.

Edmund remembered no such meekness or courtesy, but decided not to challenge Susan on it, since it wasn't terribly important.

"But here, in his own city, he has shown another face," she sighed.

Sallowpad, the raven, croaked, "Ah! It is an old saying: see the bear in his own den before you judge of his conditions."

"That's very true," Mikelston agreed. "And another is, 'Come, live with me and you'll know me."

"Yes," Edmund agreed quickly, to forestall more quoting of adages, "we have now see him for what he is: a proud, bloody-minded, wasteful, cruel, and self-pleasing tyrant."

"Then, in the name of Aslan, let us leave Tashbaan today," Susan said.

Edmund shook his head. "There," he said, "is the rub, sister." He sighed. He had to tell everyone eventually, but what he had to say still disturbed him a great deal. "Now I must tell you everything that has been worrying my mind for the past two days and more. Peridan, if you will, look to the door and see that there is no spy there."

Peridan, looking bewildered, got up to go see. He looked back.

"All well?" Edmund asked. Peridan nodded.

"Good. For now, we must be secret."

Susan came over and took one of his hands. "Oh, Edmund, what is it? There is something dreadful in your face."

Chapter Text

Edmund caught the hand Susan had held out to him and placed his other hand over hers. “My dear sister and very good lady, you must be brave now. Because I am afraid that we are in no small danger.”

“What is it, Edmund?” Susan asked.

“It is this: I do not think we shall find it easy to leave Tashbaan,” Edmund said. Susan’s grip on his hands grew tighter and he gave her an encouraging squeeze. “While the prince hoped you would take him, we were honored guests. But, by the Lion’s Mane, I think that as soon as he has your flat refusal, we will be no better than prisoners.”

There was a whistle from Mikelston and Sallowpad chimed in, saying, “I warned your Majesties. I warned you. Easily in but not easily out, as the lobster said in the lobster pot.”

Edmund had had enough of sayings, maxims, and proverbs, having endured them for so long from the Calormene ambassadors and so cut across Sallowpad. “I was with the prince this morning. He is not used--more’s the pity--to having his will crossed. And his very irritated at your long delays and doubtful answers. This morning he pressed very hard to know your mind. I put him off--hoping, at the same time, to discourage him--with some light, common jests about women’s fancies, and hinted that his suit was likely to be cold. He grew angry and dangerous. There was a sort of threatening, though still veiled under a show of courtesy, in every word he spoke.”

Tumnus nodded. “Yes. And when I ate with the Grand Vizier last night, it was the same.” Tumnus nodded at Edmund here, and Edmund realized that this was what the faun’s mind had been worrying on the night before, aside from Corin’s disappearance. “He asked me how I liked Tashbaan. And I--since I could not tell him I hated every stone of it, and I would not lie--told him that now, when high summer was coming on, my heart turned to the cool woods and dewy slopes of Narnia. He gave me a very unpleasant smile and said, ‘There is nothing to hinder you from dancing there again, little goatfoot, always provided you leave us a bride for our prince in exchange.’”

“Do you mean he would make me his wife by force?” Susan demanded, turning to Tumnus.

“That’s my fear, Susan,” Edmund nodded. “Wife…or slave, which is worse.”

“But how can he? Does the Tisroc think the High King would allow such an outrage?” Susan said.

“Sire,” Peridan said, clearly shocked, “they could not be so mad. Do they think there are no swords and spears in Narnia?”

“Unfortunately, my guess is that the Tisroc has very small fear of Narnia,” Edmund replied, not wanting to add that he felt the Tisroc had good reason. But hoping to lead others to the same conclusion, he continued, “We are a small nation. And small countries on the borders of a great empire are always hateful to the kings of those great empires. They long to blot them out, gobble them up.” Remembering the abortive attempt at provocation during the tournament, he added, “When Rabadash first came to Cair Paravel, Susan, it may be that they were only seeking an occasion against us. Likely they hope to make on mouthful of Narnia and Archenland both.”

Susan sank into a chair, her face pale.

“Let him try,” Thornbut said, sounding unimpressed. “At sea, we are as big as he is. And if he comes at us by land, he has the desert to cross.”

“True, friend,” Edmund admitted, “but is the desert a certain defense?” He turned to the raven. “What do you say, Sallowpad?”

The raven turned his head, in that way birds do when they wish to look at something, and regarded Edmund. “I know that desert well, for I have flown above it far and wide in my younger days. And this is certain: if the Tisroc goes by the great oasis he can never lead a great army across the desert into Archenland. Though they could reach the oasis by the end of their first day’s march, the springs there would be too little for the thirst of all those soldiers and their beasts.”

Edmund nodded.

“But there is another way.”

Every head in the room turned and looked back at Sallowpad, who fluttered his wings a bit and continued. “To find that way, a rider must begin at the Tombs of the Ancient Kings and ride northwest, so that the double peak of Mount Pire is always straight ahead of him. And so, in a day’s riding, or a bit more, he will come to the head of a stony valley, which is so narrow that a man might be within a furlong of it a thousand times and never know that it was there. And looking down this valley, he will see neither grass, nor water, nor anything else good. But if he rides down it, he will come to a river, and can ride by water all the way into Archenland.”

A murmur of distress went around the room and everyone began talking at once. Susan asked a question, but it was lost in the noise. Edmund held up his hands, “Friends!” The room quieted. “What is the use of this discussion? We are not asking whether Narnia or Calormen would win if war arose between them. We are asking how to save the honor of the queen and our own lives out of this blasted city. Because even if my brother Peter defeated the Tisroc a dozen times over, our throats would be cut and the Queen’s grace would be the wife, or more likely, the slave, of this prince before he could do it.”

A deep silence fell. Finally Mikelston said, “We have our weapons, King. And this is a reasonably defensible house.”

Edmund shook his head. “As to that, I do not doubt that every one of us would sell our lives dearly in the gate and they would only come at the queen over our dead bodies. But we would be only rats fighting in a trap for all of that.”

“Very true,” Sallowpad agreed. “These last stands in a house make good stories, but nothing ever came of them. After their first repulses, the enemy would simply set the house on fire.”

At this, Susan burst into tears. “I am the cause of all this!” she said, sobbing. “Oh, if only I had never left Cair Paravel. Our last happy day was before those ambassadors came. The moles were planting an orchard for us…” She broke off, burying her face in her hands.

Edmund moved to kneel before her. “Courage, Su. Courage. Remember—” But here, he broke off, since Tumnus was doing the oddest thing. He was holding both of his horns with his hands, and practically stomping his feet in fidgets. “What is the matter with you, Master Tumnus?”

“Don’t speak to me, don’t speak to me,” Tumnus replied, which drew a blink from the whole room. Tumnus never addressed the kings or queens that way. “I’m thinking. I’m thinking so that I can hardly breathe. Wait, wait, do wait.”

If only to see what it was that so discomfited the poor faun, they all fell silent.

Finally Tumnus looked up, still holding his horns. “The only difficulty is how to get down to our ship—with some stores, too—without being seen and stopped.”

Edmund had been hoping for something a good deal cleverer than that, and only just managed to keep himself from offering a very snappish answer.

Thornbut was not so restrained and answered, “Yes, just as the beggar’s only difficulty about riding is that he has no horse.” Peridan gave him a reprimanding glare, but it lacked punch.

“Wait, wait,” Tumnus said, seeing he was loosing his audience. “All we need is some pretext for going down to our ship today and taking things on board.”

“Yes?” Edmund said, unable to keep the doubt from his voice.

“Well then, how would it be if your majesties invited Prince Rabadash to a great banquet to be held on board our own galleon, the Splendor Hyaline,” he added, with a nod at Rence, which looked very comical as he was still gripping his horns, “tomorrow night? And let the message be worded as graciously as the queen can contrive without pledging her honor, so as to give the prince a hope that she is weakening.”

Sallowpad appeared to understand what Tumnus was driving at, and turned to Edmund. “This is very good counsel, sire.”

“And then,” Tumnus said, going on, “everyone will expect us to be going down to the ship all day, making preparations for our guests. And let some of us go to the bazaars and spend every minim we have at the fruiterers and the sweetmeat sellers and the wine merchants, just as we would if we were really giving a feast. And let us order magicians and jugglers and dancing girls and flute players, all to be on board tomorrow night.”

Edmund began to see where he was headed. “I see.”

“And then, we’ll all be on board tonight. And when it is quite dark,” Tumnus said.

“Up sails and out oars!” Edmund finished, astonished at the brilliant simplicity of the plan.

“And so, to sea!” Tumnus agreed, actually dancing a jig at the idea.

“And our nose northward,” Mikelston chimed in.

“And running for home!” Thornbut added. “Hurrah for Narnia and the North!”

Peridan laughed at this. “And the prince waking next morning and finding his birds flown!”

Edmund had to chuckle at that idea himself. Rabadash would be utterly confounded.

Susan jumped up and caught Tumnus’ hands, which he had finally removed from his head, and the two of them danced around in a circle. “Oh, Master Tumnus! You have saved us all!”

“The prince will chase us,” said Rence, who had been silent the whole time.

“That’s the least of my fears,” Edmund answered. “I have seen all the ships in the river and there’s no tall ship of war nor swift galley there.” He paused and then said, “I almost wish he would chase us. The Splendor Hyaline can sink anything he has to send after her, if we were overtaken at all.”

“Sire,” Sallowpad said, “you will hear no better plot than the faun’s, even if we sat in council for a week. And now, as we birds say, nests before eggs. Which is as much as to say, let us all take our food and then at once be about our business.”

Edmund offered his arm to Susan with a flourish and escorted his sister out, but remembered something as they exited and so after seeing her to her room, he immediately sought out Sallowpad.

The raven was seated on a windowsill, looking northwards, but as soon as he knew Edmund was interested in speaking to him, he flew over and alighted on Edmund’s arm.

“Sire?”

“Sallowpad, perhaps I am simply being paranoid, but I worry that our escape may not entirely deter Rabadash from attempting to make Queen Susan his wife,” Edmund said.

“A very reasonable concern, your majesty,” Sallowpad agreed. “I am also of your mind.”

“Then you will understand that I must now ask you to undertake yet another trip,” Edmund said, walking out to one of the balconies. “Fly back to Narnia, to Queen Lucy. Tell her of what has happened here and our need to have escaped. Tell her to begin raising a defense of Cair Paravel, in the event we may need it. Perhaps we shall not, I don’t know. But I would rather be prepared unnecessarily than be unprepared and have need.”

“I shall begin at once, sire,” Sallowpad said with a nod.

Edmund lifted his arm and the raven sprang from it, careful not to scrape him with his talons, and began winging his way across the desert towards Narnia.

He went back inside and snatched up a purse full of gold, directed one of the palace servants, who was stationed outside the house for their use, to be ready to deliver Susan’s invitation to the palace, then went out with Peridan and Rence to the market and began implementing Tumnus’ plan.

By mid-afternoon the three of them had managed to start several contradicting rumors about just what this banquet would be like, who they were thinking of inviting, and what sorts of Narnian entertainments there would be. In fact, the only detail about the party they had been very clear on was that it was to be held on the Splendor Hyaline the following evening. Peridan worried that the contradictions would get them found out, but Edmund and Rence assured him that such mixed reports were common when a truly excellent party was in the offing and would give their plot the ring of authenticity.

Edmund was highly satisfied with their afternoon’s work when he returned to the house. And there he received a truly nasty shock. He had just come in the door when there was a cry from upstairs. Edmund, Peridan, and Rence drew their swords and hurried up to find Corin in the room where they’d left him, with Tumnus staring at him in consternation.

This, however, was Corin unlike they had left him. His clothes were not rags, but the clothes he’d been wearing when he disappeared yesterday, although they were torn and missing several buttons. He was still wearing his shoes. And most alarmingly, he had a black eye and a missing tooth.

“Lion alive!” Corin exclaimed, seeing their swords as they came rushing in. “It’s only me, your majesty!”

“Explain,” Edmund demanded. “Immediately.”

Corin gave them a crooked grin. “The boy you thought was me wasn’t me at all! He’s my double, apparently, or near enough.”

“Where have you been, then?” Peridan said.

“There was a boy in the street yesterday who made a horrid joke about Queen Susan, so I had to box him, of course,” Corin began.

Edmund groaned.

“Well, he wasn’t so much trouble,” Corin assured him, mistaking the source of his distress. “He fetched his brother, though, so I boxed him, too. But then they fetched the Watch…who were more difficult.”

Edmund could do nothing at this point but make a small noise of disbelief.

“And then, of course, they tried to lock me up, but I managed to distract them with some wine. When they fell asleep, I found the boy who’d made the joke, and saw to him again. Unfortunately, it was too late for me to come back, so I climbed up to a roof and lay there until this morning. I made my way back today, and discovered my double here. He left just before you, Mister Tumnus, came in.” Corin gave Tumnus a little bow here, which Tumnus returned out of habit, his expression one of absolute shock.

Corin continued blithely on. “His name is…well, he never told me his name, but apparently he’s making an escape to the north with a talking horse named Bree.”

“A talking horse named Bree,” Edmund repeated, too shocked to say more.

“Yes. And he mentioned something about a secret escape tonight? It’s a good job I got back when I did,” Corin said. “You might have left without me, thinking he was me!”

Edmund gave up and sank into a chair, laughing. “Oh, Corin, we might have indeed.”

“He knows everything,” Peridan said faintly. “All our plans. He heard every single word.”

“Yes, he did,” Edmund agreed, “and he is now we know not where, speaking with we know not whom, telling them we know not what. It may already be too late.”

“You can’t think he’d tell,” Corin began.

“Your highness can not vouch for this boy’s trustworthiness from an acquaintance of thirty seconds’ duration, no matter how alike you look,” Tumnus told him sternly.

“And it does not matter, regardless of how trustworthy the boy is or not,” Edmund said, still laughing ruefully. “Our plan is in motion. We are committed. We have no other plan, and we shan’t get a second chance at any rate. We’ll have to try tonight whether we are discovered or not.”

“What, by the by, are we trying?” Corin asked, sounding only vaguely curious. Edmund was suddenly gripped by a strong desire to strangle the child.

Rence filled him in on the plan. Edmund and Peridan left and searched outside their house, just to be sure, but the boy was nowhere to be seen, and at last they gave up.

“We shall just have to hope that this boy means us no mischief,” Peridan finally said.

“We did give him a truly excellent lunch, and Queen Susan kissed him several times,” Edmund observed. “He has good cause to be in charity with us.”

Peridan blinked at him, clearly feeling that this was not the time for jokes. Edmund couldn’t find it in himself to care. Things were out of his hands now, and so he felt that he might as well enjoy them as not.

Chapter Text

As much as he dearly wished it were otherwise, when Edmund and Peridan returned to the house it quickly became evident that there was nothing else to be done. So they all packed, hiding their things in packages meant to look like they were for the party—although they did have to leave some things behind in the end—and went down to the ship.

The Splendor Hyaline was the most welcome sight Edmund had had in the entire three weeks he’d spent in Tashbaan. They spent what was left of the afternoon and on into the evening directing supplies here and there, and giving contradictory orders to the various performers, just for added effect and confusion. Indeed, by the time the last Narnian had sneaked aboard disguised as a delivery person bringing party supplies, Edmund almost wished they could throw the party, just to see if the multitude of conflicts they had orchestrated could possibly be resolved.

Finally, however, it was dark and they all crept below to the oars or up to the rigging, or back to the wheel as quietly as they could. And here came the worst part. To see that they got away as fast as possible and did not risk grounding, Rence had to time their exit from the harbor with the tide, which meant a long wait on everyone’s part. Edmund, Peridan, and Corin were sitting in the galley, ready to begin rowing the ship as soon as the order came to do it. Susan had gone up to the crow’s nest with her bow, in case someone tried to send up an alarm before they left the harbor. The stars came out, and shone down on them, and the moon was just rising when a sailor stuck his head through the door.

“Lower the starboard oars,” he told them in a stage whisper, relaying these orders from the deck.

All the oars on the right side of the ship went down. At the head of the galley, they were given a count, and Corin and all the men on that side began rowing.

The ship began to move.

“Lower the port oars,” the sailor ordered.

The left side oars went down and Edmund began to work with the men on that side. He felt the ship moving, but being unable to see anything outside, he had no idea where they were or what was going to happen next.

“Stay starboard oars,” the sailor told them.

And on it went. It was delicate work, to be sure the ship got out of the harbor with no collisions.

Finally, the order Edmund had been waiting for came. “Pull the oars in,” the sailor told them in a normal tone of voice. Everyone in the galley pulled their oars in and stowed them. Edmund could tell by the feel that they were moving under the wind now, so he and Corin went up to the deck. The sails were all unfurled and the Narnian banner at the top of the mid-mast was waving cheerfully in the evening breeze, just enough for Edmund to make out the lion on it. They also found Susan just climbing down from the crow’s nest, looking rather bored.

“No one even seemed interested,” she told them, stowing her bow with a shrug. “I’m not sure what they thought we were doing, but I doubt we’ll encounter any resistance.”

“Thank the Lion for that,” Edmund said with a nod, and with more emphasis than he had been able to honestly feel for weeks. He turned to Rence. “Because I want us to make for Narnia with all possible speed. No stopping, no slowing. We’re to be at Cair Paravel as soon as humanly possible.”

“You can’t expect something to be wrong,” Susan protested.

“Susan, Rabadash is not to be trusted. It may be nothing, but I fear he may do something rash,” Edmund told her.

His sister frowned, but thoughtfully. Finally, she said, “You’re right. Better to be safe. For Narnia, then. Quick as we can.”

For the next three days, everyone, including Tumnus and Corin, were hard at work maintaining a grueling pace for Narnia. Much to Edmund and Rence’s shock, Corin actually managed to be relatively helpful and did not demolish the entire ship on the way there, prompting Rence to finally admit that there was a theoretical possibility of his becoming a decent sailor at some point in the future.

It was late in the fourth morning after their escape from Tashbaan when they put into the harbor at Cair Paravel. In fact, as they were pulling in, Edmund could see Lucy literally running down from the castle, with Sallowpad flying over her head and Dilly running by her feet. She skidded to a halt on the boards of the dock and waited there, practically vibrating with energy until the plank was laid. Susan barreled off the ship and she and Lucy hugged one another tightly. Edmund, Corin, and Tumnus were only three steps behind her and they all collided in a tangle of limbs and greetings.

“I was so worried,” Lucy finally gasped. “When Sallowpad arrived with your message, Ed, I was worried you wouldn’t get away after all.”

“I’m sorry, Lu,” he told her. “I had to be sure you’d get our warning, but there was no way to send a message to you afterwards.”

“I’m sorry, too,” Susan said. “I’ve been such an idiot.”

“Don’t be sorry, Susan,” Lucy said. “You did nothi—”

“Your majesties!” said a voice from the edge of the dock. They all looked around to see Kerrow the leopard and a stag, just running onto the dock from the castle.

The two beasts slid to a halt, their feet not finding good purchase on the wood of the dock.

“Your majesties, this is Chervy the stag who has just come to us from south of the Dancing Lawn, near the pass into Archenland,” Kerrow said.

Corin looked up at that.

“My greetings to you all,” Chervy said. “I have terrible news. Prince Rabadash came over the desert with two hundred horse and is attacking Anvard.”

“What?” Susan cried in surprise.

“The bounder!” Corin exclaimed. “I’m leaving at once.”

“Your highness will do no such thing,” Edmund snapped. “If we have this news now, then your father had it in time to shut the gates. Rabadash’s first assaults will come to nothing. Lucy, did you set about raising that defense force?”

“We won’t have the giants or the cats until tomorrow morning, but otherwise, we’re prepared,” she told him.

“Then today we spend preparing our strategy,” Edmund told them. “Tomorrow, you, Corin, will come with us, but you may watch only.” Corin looked a bit deflated at this edict, but Edmund didn’t spare him more thought. “Send messages out to those members of the army not yet arrived to meet us on the Dancing Lawn by eight-thirty tomorrow morning.”

“This time,” Susan said, “it’ll be me staying behind to look after Narnia.”

“I’ll brief you,” Lucy told her. The two queens headed up to Cair Paravel, talking rapidly.

Peridan came up to Edmund. “Rence is seeing to the ship.”

“Excellent. Peridan, you’ll be my second for this action,” Edmund told him.

“With a good will, sire.”

The two of them followed the queens into Cair Paravel, with Corin and Tumnus coming next.

They spent the afternoon arguing over battle strategies in the counsel room. Corin initially wanted to simply overwhelm Rabadash with superior numbers, but was quickly informed by both Peridan and Edmund in no uncertain terms that there was no need for such an indelicate and bloody strategy when a victory for Narnia and Archenland was practically assured as soon as the Narnians joined the battle.

“We will attack Rabadash from one side. Anvard will be to the other. He and his men, who are only two hundred today and will be fewer tomorrow, will be crushed between the two forces. This battle is ours to loose, not his to win,” Peridan said.

“And your highness will remember he is an observer only,” Edmund added with a stern glare. “You will sit, Corin, and let us speak.”

Corin, sullenly, sat.

Edmund looked to Lucy, who had joined them after she briefed Susan. “Lucy, you said we’d have how many cats?”

“Fifty. They were eager to come when they heard how Rabadash tried to trap you in Tashbaan,” she told him. “And six giants, although one has not seen battle before.”

Edmund nodded. “Good. Now then, we’ll put the centaurs and cavalry in the center. We can send the giants here, then,” he said, indicating one side of the valley on the map on their table, “and the cats can balance them on the other side. Lucy, you’ll take the archers in the rear, and…well, that will essentially be that, provided no one makes a horrible mistake.”

With the plans made, everyone went to see to their own preparations. Although before he began any of his own work, Edmund held Thornbut back after their conference.

“Thornbut, I’m worried Corin may try to do something foolish. Keep an eye on him, and make sure he stays out of the fighting,” Edmund told the dwarf.

“With all due respect, I may not be capable of that, short of physical force,” Thornbut answered doubtfully.

“You have my permission to use it, if you must,” Edmund said.

Thornbut’s eyebrows shot up.

“I don’t care if you have to chain him to your arm,” Edmund said. “Keep him out of the fighting. That’s an order.”

“Yes, sire,” Thornbut answered, with a smile and a bow.

After dinner, Edmund and Susan filled Lucy in on their time in Tashbaan. In return, Lucy told them what had happened in Narnia, and filled them in on Peter’s reports from the north. It was late at night before Edmund finally got to bed, but he didn’t mind. The next morning, after a kiss and a well-wish from Susan, he was up and in the saddle at dawn, and they were off for the Dancing Lawn, with Peridan carrying the Narnian standard and Lucy cheering Corin up as they rode.

They had about a hundred with them when they set out from Cair Paravel, but all were either on horseback, or centaur-back, or were four-footed and could keep up with the brisk pace, and so they made excellent time down to the Dancing Lawn. Every so often, a group of Narnians would see the procession passing, with the banners and armor and would turn up to cheer them as they passed. They arrived on the Dancing Lawn by eight-fifteen to rousing cheers from the Narnians assembled there.

Edmund blinked in shock on seeing the huge assembly. Aside from the expected giants and cats, Dirian had also turned up, with nearly a hundred more Narnians. Humans, fauns, dogs, horses, dwarves, naiads, dryads, and a whole company of bears. Edmund hadn’t thought they’d receive nearly so much support and was staggered by the show of loyalty. He opened his mouth to say something and words absolutely failed him. He looked to Lucy, who appeared similarly flabbergasted. Finally, he shrugged and turned back to the assembly, and said simply:

“To Anvard!”

A huge cheer went up, and so they all set off, southward over the hills, which grew taller as they approached the mountains. It was not quite mid-day when they reached a lovely green hillside, so perfect to do some quick, last minute rearranging and head-counting that Edmund had Dirian sound the trumpet and called a brief halt.

“Now, friends,” he called down the line, “time for a halt and some food!”

A laugh went up from the Narnians who immediately began dismounting and checking with captains and double-checking their armor and things.

Corin, however, noticed three dwarves and a boy who were staring at the assembly a hair before Edmund did and was off his pony in a trice. He ran over to the boy and seized his hands.

“You’re here!” he exclaimed.

Edmund and Lucy dismounted and began making their way over.

“So you got through all right? I am glad. And now we shall have some sport.”

Edmund did not like the dark tone Corin put on that last word, although given that it was Corin’s home being attacked, he couldn’t say he didn’t sympathize.

“It’s been amazing luck! We only got into harbor at Cair Paravel yesterday morning and the very first person who met us was Chervy the stag with his news of an attack on Anvard. Don’t you think—”

“Who is your highness’s friend?” Edmund said, stepping in before Corin could tell this perfect stranger any more sensitive information. As he did, though, he was taking in the boy’s appearance.

“Don’t you see, sire?” Corin said. “It’s my double. The boy you mistook me for at Tashbaan!”

“So he is your double,” Lucy agreed in a low breath. “You could be twins. This is quite a thing.”

Seeing them together, Edmund no longer felt so foolish for having mistook the other boy for Corin. They had the same fair hair, although the new boy’s was lighter as if he’d spent a great deal of time in the sun. They had the same height, and the same eyes, although Corin’s double’s eyes were much more serious and steady than Corin’s.

The double opened his mouth and said, in Corin’s voice, “Please, your majesty. I was no traitor, really, I wasn’t. I couldn’t help hearing your plans. But I’d never have dreamed of telling them to your enemies.”

At this, Edmund’s heart melted completely for the poor boy, who was looking at him with a tiny shred of that terror he’d had on his face in Tashbaan again. He strode forward and laid his hand on the boy’s shoulder. “I know now that you were no traitor,” Edmund told him firmly. He went on, “But if you would not be taken for one another time, try not to hear what’s meant for other ears.”

The child nodded his head earnestly, still not entirely reassured.

“All is well,” Edmund told him.

That got him a grateful smile. Edmund clapped his shoulder and moved over to talk to Peridan.

“Your majesty, the dogs and bears are going to work with the big cats, but…I think it best if we leave the cats to order themselves any further than that. They rarely work well when commanded too closely,” Peridan said as Edmund joined him. Kerrow, who was sitting beside Peridan with his tail folded neatly over his feet, glared at the man, but said nothing.

Edmund grinned. “Kerrow, if you would, ask for a few volunteers to go after the horses of any dismounted Calormenes first. Those men may surrender if they can not flee.”

Kerrow nodded. “Sire.” He gave Peridan one last glare before padding off, flicking his tail as he went.

Peridan looked disturbed. Edmund, who knew Kerrow well enough to know when he was joking, did not let Peridan in on the secret.

Dirian came up. “Sire, I’m concerned about those giants,” he said. “Kettlewell can’t even—”

But whatever it was that Kettlewell could not do went unsaid as a cry went up behind Edmund.

He turned, and, to his shock, Corin and Thornbut were actually milling, and it looked to be a real, proper brawl too.

Edmund started to run over, as did three others, but long before he could arrive at the spot, Thornbut fell, and when he tried to rise again it was clear his ankle was paining him seriously. It had already started to swell.

Corin, not realizing this, was just going after him again when Edmund caught him by the shoulder and pulled him violently back before setting him on his feet roughly.

“By the Lion’s mane, prince, this is outside of enough!” Edmund roared, well aware he was in a rare taking and not even bothering to check his temper. “Will you never learn better? You are more trouble than the whole army together! I’d rather have a regiment of hornets in my command than you!”

Two fauns came over and started to help Thornbut out of his armor. Corin had the grace—or sense of self-preservation—to look thoroughly ashamed of himself, but Edmund was not impressed. Lucy examined Thornbut’s ankle and looked up at Edmund before shaking her head. “If I had my cordial with me, I could mend this. But the high king has strictly charged me not to carry it commonly to war and to save it for great extremities.”

“Now see what you have done! Deprived us of a proven warrior, and right on the edge of battle!” Edmund said, wishing that some of this might make an impression on the boy.

“I’ll take his place, sire,” Corin said, bursting in.

Edmund glared at him. “No one doubts your courage. But a boy in battle is a danger only to his own side.”

“Your majesty!” called a voice behind him. Edmund turned to see Sallowpad winging towards them to land—with an apologetic look—on the rump of a nearby centaur, who glared ferociously but neglected to say anything.

With a stern glare at Corin, Edmund moved over to speak to the raven.

“Sire,” Sallowpad said to him, “I have overflown Anvard this morning. Rabadash and his men are not there, but in the nearby forest, felling an enormous tree. They were stripping it of its branches when I saw them and will no doubt bring it against the castle gate there. I have warned King Lune, but I am afraid, your majesty, that they will breach the gate today if they are not stopped.”

Edmund nodded. “Peridan! Dirian! Pass the word. Tell everyone to be prepared to leave in five minutes.”

“There is more, sire,” Sallowpad, hopping from foot to foot, which drew a very displeased look from the centaur on whose back he stood.

Edmund looked at the raven curiously. “Oh?”

“King Lune reports that his son Cor was the one who reported this to him yesterday. He is Corin’s twin. However, they were separated in the night and Cor is again missing. He begs you to watch for him.”

Every muscle in Edmund’s body froze. He was absolutely stunned. He glanced around and saw no sign of Corin, nor of the boy who looked so like him. Of course they would be twins. Of course it was Cor. How he had forgotten about Cor, Edmund would never know. And now the Lost Prince was nearby and Edmund had no time to find him.

He was unable to give Sallowpad any response but a mute nod.

Chapter Text

Edmund was still in the dismals when Lucy returned from seeing Thornbut safely into the care of three dwarves who lived nearby. After a quick glance around she said, “But where is his goosecap highness?”

Edmund cast about, wishing he would see Corin—and desperately wishing he would see Cor—but finally had to say, “Not in the front and that’s good news enough. We’ll leave him well alone.” Corin being himself, though, Edmund couldn’t help but suspect they would hear more from the princes before the day was out.

He looked around again and saw that nearly everyone was ready to move, and those who were not were nearly prepared. “Time to go,” he said.

He, Lucy, Peridan, and Dirian all mounted their horses and swung around. Dirian sounded the horn again and the column reassembled and began moving off.

It took most of the rest of the day to push through the mountains to Anvard, but at last, they reached bottom of the last hill in the late afternoon. Edmund looked down the line. “Pass the word. Into positions. But do it quietly.”

The cats stalked off to the left and the six giants over to the right, where all sat down—carefully, so as not to squash anyone—and pulled on pairs of heavy, spiked boots that Edmund did not like to think of being on the wrong end of. He unbuckled his shield from his back and strapped it to his arm before settling back into the saddle and making sure he was quite ready.

As soon as he was finished, he looked around to the rest of the army. And so it seemed, everyone was prepared. He nodded. “All right then. We finish it as quickly as we may, and kill no one you need not. Forward.”

They started up the hill, only going at about half speed. The last rise before Anvard was a low one, however, so the thunder of the horse’s hooves was quickly audible. Edmund signaled to Dirian who winded the trumpet and they sped up into a proper run.

Now they were over the rise, and there were the Calormenes, with a battering ram going at the gates of the castle, just as Sallowpad had reported.

Edmund drew his sword. They were charging downhill, now. One of the Calormenes—Rabadash—gave a signal to the others and fully every man he had not working the ram was mounted and forming a line in five seconds.

They were charging at a flat-out run. A yell broke from somewhere in the Narnian lines, and was echoed from the Calormenes who were headed towards them.

And then they were together with a horrible crash. Edmund swept so hard into the first Calormene he met that he almost unhorsed himself, along with his opponent, and just managed to stay in the saddle before moving onto the man behind him.

This was Corradin, who was an excellent swordsman, and the two of them got in some good blows before being pushed away from each other in the press of the fighting. As Edmund saw, from the corner of his eye, one of the giants go down, he caught a glimpse of Rabadash nearby, with a hideous expression in his face. He moved to go after the man, but it was no good. He couldn’t get to him. Instead, he glanced over to see that the cats had indeed sent the Calormene horses mad with fright and were starting to go after the men on the ram.

Then he saw the worst thing possible. Corin and his double had actually snuck into the battle, and the double—Prince Cor, rather—was worse than confused. The boy was about to be cut to pieces, and clearly had no idea of how to defend himself. Corin was doing better, but he wasn’t nearly aware of his surroundings, and had no notion that Cor was in such deadly danger so close to him. There was no hope for getting his horse that far over to the left, so Edmund was out of the saddle and running full tilt over to them in a second.

Cor fell to the ground and was nearly skewered by a Calormene spear before Edmund managed to cut it to a haft and pull that man off his horse.

“Shield up, you idiot!” he yelled to the child, busy engaging the Calormene who had almost stabbed Cor. Much to Edmund’s shock, it was Ravid, who had drawn his sword almost faster than Edmund could blink and now the two of them were after each other. But Edmund was the better swordsman and got in a stroke that cut open Ravid’s chest. He fell to the ground and Edmund pressed forward, hating himself a little for giving so little thought to killing a man he had actually liked, to some extent, and certainly had many perfectly amiable discussions with.

A company of Narnians who had been unhorsed, or were of the talking dog or bear variety caught up with him and they pressed toward the Anvard gates, which were opening now. King Lune was coming out with the Archenlandish nobles and the Narnian cats behind him.

Corradin loomed up in front of him again, apparently having lost his own horse at some point, and the two of them joined immediately. Corradin pressed him hard. Nearly backwards, and Edmund, knowing such a ferocious offense meant leaving some openings on defense, watched carefully, and as soon as he found an opening, decapitated the man with one stroke.

The Calormenes who were still fighting were now pressed in on every side, and fighting desperately. Edmund found himself fighting with Rabadash at one point, who actually snarled at him, “I’ll have your sister yet, barbarian.”

Edmund did not reply, preferring to spend his energy on fighting. He was pressed on, and into a Calormene whose name he did not know. The man was, however, an excellent swordsman and Edmund found himself hard put to keep up. One stroke came at his head, which he parried, then the next at his feet, and he almost didn’t get to that one in time. The third was headed straight for his chest, and Edmund—having no other option—ducked.

His shield was trapped almost immediately as someone stepped on it, and Edmund’s entire torso was completely unguarded. He tried to tug it free, but the Calormene was about to bring his sword down into Edmund’s heart. Then, quite suddenly, Kerrow leapt out of nowhere, taking the man down by the shoulders. The Calormene, however, was not entirely without his wits and stabbed his sword up into Kerrow’s ribs. The leopard fell, bleeding profusely, and did not rise again.

He had been here before, Edmund knew. There had been other battles. Other friends who had fallen, so red with blood that you almost couldn’t tell which creature was which. Other battles fought, for similarly pointless reasons, which could have so easily been avoided if this person or that one had been less selfish or more thoughtful. Once, he had been the selfish, thoughtless person, and people had died. And yet, somehow, it was always a shock to see them fall. Someone with life and energy and purpose did not simply go still like that. It was not possible that their life could pour out them like water, so easily and so fast.

And the worst of it was, he could not even stop to think on it now, because he had to get up.

And suddenly he was back on his feet, fighting for the gate. The Calormenes were almost entirely defeated now. And Chlamash, the tarkaan he was currently engaging, as soon as he saw it said, “I will surrender! I surrender! Do not harm me!”

Edmund had his sword at the man’s throat in a second. “Drop your weapon!”

Chlamash threw down his sword. Edmund nodded and moved his sword. “Join your fellows. You will not be harmed.”

Edmund looked about himself, and saw that the battle was over everywhere, and stripped off his shield. He was standing on the walkway up to the castle gate with the battering ram beside him. And, must to his shock, King Lune was on the other side.

“Hello, your majesty,” Edmund said.

“Your majesty,” Lune replied, saluting. Then he offered his free hand. “You have my gratitude for your quick assistance.”

Edmund had just touched his hand to shake it when a terrible yell came from behind him. He turned and just got his sword up in time to defend himself against Rabadash’s mad, and utterly pointless, charge.

The battle was over. He could not win. Attacking now, without warning, when Edmund’s back was turned was just short of outright murder.

Rabadash was fighting with more fervor than skill this time, and Edmund felt a cold certainty fill his veins. This battle would never have occurred but for this man’s stupidity, rashness, and utter arrogance. Ravid and Kerrow both would still be alive, and it was all for Rabadash that they were not.

There was no stopping Edmund now. His sword moved almost without his conscious direction, striking, parrying, lunging. He was not even aware of it, as he blocked Rabadash’s blows. His sword no longer felt like a tool, but a part of his own arm.

Rabadash, out of desperation, leaped up to a mounting block against the castle wall, and started laying his sword down at Edmund’s head. But even that wouldn’t last as Edmund heard Lucy’s voice calling the archers to the ready.

Rabadash, clearly sensing that he had made himself a target, leaped off the block in the only direction he had the space—along the wall. As he jumped, he shouted, “The bolt of Tash falls from above!”

Then, much to Edmund’s surprise, his hauberk caught on a hook in the wall, and there the Prince Rabadash was stuck, swinging his sword in the air, fruitlessly trying to get down, and being laughed at by every Narnian and Archenlander (and most of the Calormenes, although they were less obvious about it).

“Let me down, Edmund!” Rabadash yelled. “Let me down and fight me like a king and a man! Or, if you are too much a coward to do that, kill me at once!”

Edmund’s eyebrows rose. This stupid boy attacked a peaceful nation for no reason but his own arrogance and now had the gall to accuse Edmund of cowardice? To say it after Rabadash’s foolishness had brought them to so much death, raised a red film over his vision. It was unbelievable. “Certainly,” Edmund nodded, beginning to raise his sword.

A hand caught his wrist. Edmund looked up to see King Lune, who said, “By your majesty’s leave, no.”

Edmund blinked, caught off guard and feeling wrong-footed.

Lune turned to Rabadash. “Your highness, if you had given that challenge a week ago, I’ll wager there was no one in King Edmund’s dominion, from the High King down to the smallest talking mouse, who would have refused it. But by attacking Anvard, unprovoked, in time of peace, without defiance sent, you have proved yourself no knight, but a traitor. Someone who ought to be whipped by a hangman, rather than permitted to cross swords with any person of honor.” He motioned to several of Anvard’s defenders. “Take him down, bind him, and lock him up inside until our pleasure is further known.”

Edmund looked down at his sword, realizing he had been fully prepared to kill Rabadash simply to satisfy his own anger. If Lune hadn’t stopped him, he would have. And no one in Narnia or Archenland, or even Calormen, would have called it wrong.

And it would have been terribly, terribly wrong to do it. In the midst of a battle was one thing. After battle, out of anger, however, was another matter.

Lune laid a hand on Edmund’s shoulder and squeezed lightly. Edmund gave him a grateful look. Rabadash was carried off, screaming as if he were being tortured, by several strong castle guards.

Corin’s voice broke in then. “Here he is, Father! Here he is!”

And here came Corin, dragging Cor along with him, who was covered in sweat, wearing Thornbut’s armor, and looking not-at-all prepared to meet the king of Archenland.

“Aye,” Lune agreed, “and here you are, at last. And you’ve been in battle, completely contrary to your orders. You are a boy to break a father’s heart! At your age, rod to your backside would suit you better than a sword in your fist.” But, much to Edmund’s dismay, he could see Lune was quite proud of Corin’s disobedience.

“Do not lecture him further, sire, if you will,” Lord Darren of Archenland said, earning himself a glare from Edmund. “His highness would not be your son if he did not inherit your character. And it would grieve your majesty more if he had to be reproved for the opposite fault.”

Edmund raised his brows, but said nothing yet.

“Very well,” Lune nodded. “We’ll pass it over for this time. And now…”

So saying, he seized Cor and gave him a monstrous hug, kissing him on both cheeks. Then he set the two boys together in front of everyone and said, “Stand together, boys, and let the whole court see you. Hold up your heads.”

The boys did as ordered, Cor looking very confused. But Edmund, despite how angry he was with Corin—a matter which he would settle as soon as he might, could not contain his grin. They had thought this child lost forever!

“Now, gentlemen,” Lune said to everyone, “look on them both. Has any man any doubts?”

A thunderous cheer went up from everyone there. Lucy, who had apparently been making her way up from the back, came to stand at Edmund’s side, and looked at the two of them and at Lune’s beaming face.

“Prince Cor!” she exclaimed, clapping along with everyone there. “Of course he is!”

“And I let him run away in Tashbaan,” Edmund mused.

Lucy smiled, but it looked a little sad. “It is good to see him back.”

“It is,” Edmund agreed with a sigh. “Kerrow is dead.”

“Oh, Ed,” Lucy said, looking stricken. “So is Lord Dirian.”

Edmund opened his mouth to say something, but gave it up. There was nothing to say. Lucy shook her head and then simply gave her brother a tight hug, which he gratefully returned.

Finally, Edmund released his sister, who gave him a sad smile, and walked over to King Lune. “Your majesty, with your permission, given that your sons were under my command this morning, I think it only fitting that they remain so until I disband the army,” Edmund said.

Lune looked at Edmund and caught the look in his eye. He laughed and said, “Oh, certainly, your majesty. I only ask you remember that Prince Cor has only been so for a few hours now, and treat him accordingly.”

Edmund nodded, with a rather satisfied grin. Neither Prince Cor nor Prince Corin looked reassured at this. “Very well then. Both of you, wait for me over by the guardhouse.”

The two boys moved off. Edmund looked to Lune. “I’ll have Cor back to you by suppertime, sire. Corin, on the other hand, will be busy until morning.”

Lune lifted a brow. “All night?”

“A soldier would be whipped for such flagrant disobedience. We can’t let him get away with it,” Edmund said.

Lune frowned. “You are right, Edmund. Very well.”

Edmund stalked over to the guardhouse, his face like thunder, and was grandly rewarded by seeing Corin blanch at his approach. “You two princes come with me.”

He led them back out of the gate and over near the spot where Rabadash had hung himself up, where Lord Peridan was in conference with Sallowpad and a centaur, who Edmund recognized at second glance as Thunderhoof.

“My friends!” Edmund called, striding up. They all turned. He motioned Corin forward. “Prince Corin here disobeyed his orders today in quite spectacular fashion. Therefore, I want you all to inform everyone in the army with damaged armor, mail, or equipment that it will be to Prince Corin they will report that information. You, your highness, will catalogue all of it, and give that information to the castle smiths, and armor-workers. You will do this by tomorrow at lunch, as well.”

“Tomorrow!” Corin demanded in outrage. “But that will take all night!”

“Indeed it will, your highness,” Peridan answered, supremely unmoved by Corin’s outrage, “and that’s only assuming that you begin this instant that you will be done so quickly.”

“And you had best be sure that your report is accurate,” Thunderhoof agreed, equally unimpressed by the prince’s situation, “since Narnia will be compensating Archenland for our portion of the monies that must go to these reparations, and if you undercalculate, you will cheat your own nation.”

“And if you overcalculate,” Edmund added, with a stern note in his voice, “I shall be displeased.”

Corin swallowed and nodded. Edmund looked down at Cor. “You, your highness, will walk with me.”

Cor nodded, with a very serious and slightly awed expression and followed as Edmund led him back towards the gate. Peridan and Thunderhoof would install Corin in his temporary office, and then he would be unable to leave it even if he tried until he was finished.

“I shall not trouble you with how your father’s heart would have been broken to come so close to gaining you back only to loose you on his doorstep,” Edmund told Cor as they walked.

Cor looked at him curiously.

“I shall not tell you because you do not yet understand why it would be so, and that story is for others to give to you,” he explained. “However, I must say, after fooling a king and a queen and several lords in Tashbaan, and—unless I miss my guess—riding hard across the desert to warn King Lune of Rabadash’s attack, and then traveling into Narnia to call for our help?” Cor hesitated, but then nodded. “After all of that,” Edmund said, “I would not have thought you so easily led by Corin’s foolishness. You just saved two nations and then let that boy talk you into near-suicide?”

“I…” Cor stared at him in shock, apparently not having considered things in quite that light before.

“Yes, and well you should look shocked. After all of that, you can’t have been worried we’d think you a coward?” Edmund said.

“Your majesty…” The boy looked away for a moment and then looked back and said, “I was raised by a fisherman who pretended to be my father but treated me like a slave. He was going to sell me when Bree—a talking horse—talked me into running away. All I know is…fishing, sir. I don’t really care if you think I’m a coward. For all I know, I am. I can’t possibly be this Prince Cor person!”

Edmund shook his head. “There’s no doubt about that. You are the prince. Your father can tell you the rest. And as to only knowing how to fish, I’m afraid, Prince Cor, that your own actions give the lie to that. You saved Archenland, and defied the Prince Rabadash himself!”

Cor looked shocked at this. “When you put it like that, your majesty, it sounds much grander than it was.”

They had passed around to the side of the castle and were now looking south, across the forest, and the direction that Cor had no doubt come with his message. They stopped, both looking at the forest and Edmund looked down at the new prince with a thoughtful expression. “These things always do,” he nodded, “but however grand they were or not in the doing doesn’t change what they are. Which makes your meek agreement to Corin that much more ridiculous. You can defy Rabadash but not Corin? I think you already know which of the two is more dangerous.”

Cor nodded.

“Very well,” Edmund said. “Since you have been a prince now for the space of twenty minutes, you can be pardoned for not thinking like one on this occasion. In the future, do not forget who you are. You are courageous. You ought not to let Corin overmaster you like that.” He laughed. “Not the least because Corin gets in and out of trouble like most of us get in and out of shoes.”

Cor looked at him curiously. “I have never had shoes, your majesty.”

Edmund blinked. “I’m a fool. Prince Cor, you will now.”

Cor looked horrified. “You aren’t a fool, your majesty! You’re the nicest grown-up I’ve ever met! Aside from King Lune, that is.”

That startled a laugh out of Edmund. “Oh dear. I can tell you won’t make things boring. Now then, your father has waited many years for your homecoming. Let’s not keep the two of you separated any longer.”

As they walked back to the gate, Cor suddenly said, “Aravis! And Bree and Hwin! They’re still with the Hermit!”

“Who are they?” Edmund asked.

Cor launched into a brief account of his companions in his travels north, and Edmund’s eyebrows rose as he explained. “It’s too dark to go now, and your father would miss you desperately, but I think you’ll be able to go collect them tomorrow morning.”

Cor nodded. They reentered the gate and Edmund was unsurprised to see Lune waiting there. He walked just a hair faster than normal to Cor and then nodded to Edmund. “Thank you, your majesty, for being so brief.”

“He has been missing a long time, sire,” Edmund said. “I understand.”

Lune nodded. Then he turned to Cor. “I know this must all be hard to believe, but…I have so missed you, my son. If you’ll come with me, I will tell you the story of the worst day of my life and my greatest failure as your king and your father.”

“Your majesty?” Cor asked, sounding shocked.

“It’s all right, Cor. Somehow, telling you this is harder than I thought it would be,” Lune said. He put an arm around Cor’s shoulders and said, “You see, it is my fault that you were not raised here.”

They walked together into Anvard. Edmund, realizing he should allow them some privacy, waited as they moved off.

Chapter Text

They moved off, Lune telling Cor the story of how he had come to grow up as a servant to a fisherman.

Thunderhoof trotted up to join Edmund. “So my prophecy for that child is fulfilled.”

“To save Archenland from the deadliest danger in which it ever lay,” Edmund recalled. “A rather terrible destiny.”

“Your majesty, I think the Archenlanders who are free today would call it by another name,” Thunderhoof said mildly.

Edmund couldn’t think of any reply to that so he changed the subject. “Where is Lucy?”

“The queen has gone into Anvard, I believe,” Thunderhoof replied.

“Thank you,” Edmund nodded. He went into the castle and, after several misdirections, and one moment of being so hopelessly lost he was forced to ask directions, found Lucy directing a trunk into a state chamber.

“Oh, Ed!” she said, spying him. “I’m glad you’ve come. Your things are here, if you wish to wash and change.” She indicated the room and Edmund stared at her in shock. She was still wearing a mail tunic, and only the circlet of gold on her head kept her hair—which was a mass of tangles—from falling completely down. She had a streak of dirt across her face, sweat on her forehead, and blood staining her fingers and her trousers. And here she stood with Dilly by her feet, cool as you please.

“What are you talking about?” he asked, mystified.

Lucy rolled her eyes. “Dilly brought some things for us. She left after we did and has been traveling all day.”

Edmund looked down at himself. There was a slash in one of the sleeves of the tunic he wore over his mail shirt, and blood stains across his waist and on one of his shoulders. He knew his face was equally dirty and sweaty as Lucy’s, probably worse. “I hadn’t even had time to think about after…”

“Of course you hadn’t, Ed,” Lucy answered. “Neither had I. This was all Dilly’s doing.”

“If it please your majesties,” Dilly broke in, “several of your staff felt this would be prudent. We also have several more shipments in donations for the armies, and in foodstuffs for Anvard, since they are hosting more than usual at present, on the way as we speak. Unfortunately, the first of those will not be here until tomorrow.”

“Dilly, you’re a hero,” Edmund said.

“So I told her,” Lucy agreed.

Edmund turned to look at his sister. “May I speak to you?”

Lucy turned her head and then said, “All right, Ed.” The two of them walked into Lucy’s chamber and out to her balcony. From there, Edmund could see out over most of Archenland. He turned to his sister. “Rabadash is infuriating me. I…almost killed him after the battle was over.”

“Oh, Ed,” Lucy said.

“When I think of him… Do you realize that Cor fulfilled his prophecy today?” Edmund said.

“To save Archenland,” Lucy nodded. “Yes, of course he did.”

“I have been asking Aslan for the past month and more why it was that he saw fit to send us all this trouble,” Edmund said quietly.

“Perhaps Aslan was unkind to Cor, do you mean?” Lucy asked, looking at him curiously.

“No! Don’t you see, it was nothing to do with Cor!” Edmund burst out. “I never once stopped to consider that there might be something else afoot!” He laughed without any humor. “I have been such a fool, Lucy. I thought Aslan had abandoned us entirely. I never bothered to think that maybe Narnia’s troubles weren’t the point of any of this. I can not credit how selfish I have been this whole time. I doubt I shall ever be able to face him again.”

“First off, stop being foolish,” Lucy told him. “Of course you will face him again. You are not the only person ever to doubt him, nor to learn that their doubts were foolish. He is, as we are so fond of pointing out, not a tame lion.”

Edmund frowned. “No. I simply forgot he is good.”

“Second,” Lucy returned, “Aslan has reminded you he is good, hasn’t he?”

“But none of this was to do with Narnia at all,” Edmund protested. “He did not do it to remind me of anything.”

“Of course it was,” Lucy said. “Susan is Narnian, after all. It was to do with all of us. Not only did Cor save Archenland, but you were rescued from Tashbaan. And Peter defended Narnia. And I kept it safe. And we were all there to do all these things, just as we needed to be. If Aslan has been clever enough to see to all of that, I don’t think it’s beyond his ability to remind either of us that he truly is clever enough to see to all of that, and good enough to do what we need even when we can’t see how.”

Edmund looked sharply at Lucy. “Us?”

“I had my own worries,” Lucy said quietly. “I kept railing against the unfairness of it all. And it is unfair that Cor should’ve had to grow up a slave when he is a prince. But how could I say that it would’ve been fair for Rabadash to attack Archenland as he did? And if Cor hadn’t brought that message…”

She sighed. “In any case, it’s obviously not fair to blame Aslan. Bar was an embezzler and that was his fault. Rabadash is a coward and traitor and that was his. That those two events are connected is because Aslan intervened so that Rabadash’s attack would be unsuccessful and Cor would be saved into the bargain.” She looked at Edmund. “I never spoke about my doubts because I was ashamed.”

Edmund shook his head. “And here I am plaguing you with mine. But we have both learned better now. And I think you must be right. I am certain Aslan would forgive your doubts, in which case he would forgive me mine. He should hardly have troubled to teach us better otherwise, I think.”

She smiled. “You’re right. I am simply melancholy after the battle, and distracted because I am still angry at Corin. A very creative punishment, by the way.”

“How did you know?” Edmund asked.

“Everyone is talking about it,” she said. “If it weren’t for Rabadash and his rather ridiculous jumping fiasco, Corin would be the butt of every joke made here for weeks.”

Edmund nodded. “And well he would deserve it, too.”

“Agreed,” Lucy said. “Perhaps this lesson will sink in.”

Edmund shook his head. “Corin may never grow up.”

“Fortunately for him,” Lucy laughed. “Now get out so I can bathe. Aside from wanting to get out of my own clothes, you smell terrible.”

Edmund grinned and strode out, headed into his room, and found—to his very great pleasure—that some enterprising person had already drawn him a bath. He cheerfully stripped off his clothes and washed off the dirt and grime of the battle before putting on a set of clean clothes.

Over dinner, Prince Cor—who had apparently been called Shasta all his life—told them about his adventures escaping north. How he had met Bree the horse and then Aravis the tarkheena and Hwin the other horse, and their trip through Tashbaan, which Edmund couldn’t help but find funny now. Then how Aravis had overheard Rabadash’s plot and their flight across the desert and meeting the Hermit. And then how Cor was sent on to find King Lune and warn him just in time, before getting lost in the fog and accidentally wandering into Narnia during the night.

Lune broke in at this point and said, “You were uncommonly fortunate there, child, that you did not fall off the mountain.”

But, much to Edmund’s surprise as he knew that Cor had seen that pass during the day, Cor said, “I was never in any danger, sir—Father. There was an enormous lion who walked alongside me all night. He said that he’d been looking after me my whole life. And, do you know? I think he had.”

Tears sprang to Lucy’s eyes and she began blinking quite hard indeed. Edmund, who was sitting beside her, reached over and took her hand, his own eyes a bit more watery than usual.

“If you have been in Aslan’s care,” Lune said slowly, laying his hand over Cor’s, “then I shall settle my mind about your traipsing into Narnia over night. He will not always lead you in safe ways, my son, but he will lead you in the best ways there are.”

Edmund looked out the window and tried not to be so surprised as he was. How could this possibly be exactly what he had needed to hear? Because if Cor could be at peace with his own life, then Edmund was hardly in a position to complain about a month or so of negotiations. He looked back at Cor with a fond smile. How very like Aslan to use someone who had met him the night before last to give lessons in trusting him to Edmund, who had known him for years.

Cor nodded and took up his tale again. How he’d met the dwarves in Narnia, who had fed him breakfast. And then fallen in with the army and come straight back the next day.

“And that, your majesties, father, and everyone, is my story,” he finished. “I just hate to have left the others with the Hermit.”

“No doubt the Hermit is quite ready to have done with his guests, as well,” Lucy put in with a mischievous smile.

Most everyone laughed, although Cor looked a bit confused. Edmund took pity on him and said in an undertone across the table, “Well, he is a hermit, after all.”

Cor did grin at that, and Lune’s face looked like it had lit up from the inside.

“No fear of that, then,” Lune told Cor. “Tomorrow, you shall go and fetch them here. This friend of yours, the Lady Aravis?” He paused, and Cor nodded at the name. “You must ask her if she will like to live here. It has been some time since we have had a woman in the court, and clearly the Lady Aravis is both courageous and wise.”

“I’ll do that,” Cor nodded.

The next morning, Edmund and Lucy were sat down to sitting down to breakfast with Lune in the brilliantly sunny breakfast chamber and chatting about the festivities planned for a few days hence when Corin dragged himself in, bleary-eyed and cranky and acknowledged no one as he piled his plate with toast.

When he did look up, Edmund skewered him with a glance. “The next time you disobey my orders, I’ll considerably less merciful. This is the last warning you shall receive.”

“Yes, your majesty,” he said. He looked around. “Where’s Cor?”

“Gone to fetch his friends back from the Hermit’s home,” Lune told his son.

“Oh, Aravis and the horses?” Corin asked, brightening.

“He told you yesterday during the ride, I suppose,” Edmund said suppressingly.

“Ah…yes, sir,” Corin answered, in a much more meek tone than he usually adopted.

“Then he will not need to repeat himself,” Lune interjected, forcing the two sparring partners to look at him politely. “They should be back before lunchtime,” he added, facing Corin.

“Excellent. I should very much like to meet this Lady Aravis,” Lucy said with a grin.

Edmund smiled at that. “Naturally. She sounds very like you, Lu.”

“Cor couldn’t say enough good things about any of them,” Corin added. “I can’t wait to see them all.”

It was a few hours later when Edmund saw Lucy leading a Calormene girl about Corin’s age to a set of rooms near those of the royal family. He bowed to the girl and said, “My Lady Aravis, I must presume?”

She nodded. “Yes, sir.”

Lucy grinned. “Aravis Tarkheena, allow me to present my brother, Edmund of Narnia.”

Aravis nodded at that and then offered Edmund a grand curtsey in the Calormene style. “Your majesty,” she said quietly.

“I know you must have heard this a great deal already,” Edmund said, “but I must thank you, my lady, for your aid of Prince Cor and of Archenland and of Narnia. We are all deeply in your debt.”

“Your majesty is very kind, but to attack your nations unprovoked for the purpose of kidnapping a woman and forcing her into marriage is a despicable action. I would have no honor at all if I had not done all I could to oppose Rabadash,” she answered.

Lucy nodded. “You’re absolutely right, Aravis.”

“Before I leave you,” Edmund said, “I think it might be wise for me to speak to those two horses you traveled with. Where are they?”

“I saw them last in the courtyard, but I think Cor may have been showing them the stables,” Aravis said.

“He can’t be thinking to put talking horses in the stables with the dumb ones?” Lucy said, sounding outraged.

“I think he was trying to talk them out of it, your majesty,” Aravis told her, “but they have lived with dumb horses all their lives.”

Edmund nodded. “And he is their friend, in any case. He won’t be offering them offense. I’ll speak to them.”

Edmund left and made his way to the castle stables where he heard Prince Cor’s voice arguing with someone as he entered.

“Bree, you can’t stay here! Father would have my head. There are plenty of Narnian horses here from the battle yesterday. Why don’t you let me introduce you to them?” Cor asked. The voices were all the way down at the far end of the stables, near the opposite door, so Edmund began striding toward them.

“Must we?” the someone asked, sounding very reluctant indeed.

“Is this more of that Do-Talking-Horses-Roll? nonsense?” asked another someone, this person sounding quite put out. “Bree, how many times must we tell you—”

“I’ll thank you, madam, not to make assumptions for which you have no basis,” Bree snapped.

“No basis, indeed,” the second someone snorted, and a very horsish snort it was too.

Edmund’s charger put his head over his stall and snorted at him, causing the other two horses to go silent. Edmund reached over and rubbed Aylmar’s nose before continuing on.

The horse named Bree looked like a very great warhorse indeed, and next to him was a palfrey who immediately dipped her head as she saw Edmund.

“Bree, Hwin,” said Prince Cor, “this is King Edmund of Narnia.”

“I was told there were two Narnian horses who had come with you, and I felt I should come and meet you both,” Edmund said, offering them a smile. “And Prince Cor is quite right, Bree. You are a talking horse. It would be thoroughly inappropriate for you to stay here.”

The warhorse hung his head miserably. Hwin looked just a tiny bit smug, but all she said was, “Where are the Narnian horses staying, your majesty?”

“In the other stable, of course,” Edmund told her.

“Other stable?” Bree asked, misery quite forgotten.

“It’s very like this one, but there are no doors on the stalls, for example. You can’t stay here because you wouldn’t be free to move about as you pleased. You are guests, after all, not prisoners.”

“Oh. That’s quite…logical,” Bree finally said. Hwin looked as though she were suppressing a desire to kick the creature, but Cor turned a grateful look onto Edmund.

“Shall I show them there, your majesty?” Cor offered.

“Why don’t we all go?” Edmund said. They started away from the stable and Edmund turned to Cor and said, “When we were in Tashbaan, Tumnus offered for you to come and stay in Narnia over the summer festival, thinking you were Corin. I thought you should know, the invitation is extended to you. You may wish to stay closer to home, of course, but if you are interested, you’re welcome.”

“It sounded interesting,” Cor replied. “What is it?”

“Oh, it’s an excellent time. All of Narnia spends a week in celebration and dancing,” Edmund said. “With all that’s happened, we’ll be working non-stop at Cair Paravel to be ready in time, but when the solstice comes, we all leave the castle and go to Aslan’s How. And the rest of the week is nearly non-stop bonfires and dancing and feasts. As long as you’re careful not to let the fauns and dryads dance you off somewhere unexpected while you aren’t paying attention, of course.”

“Oh?” Cor asked, sounding amused.

“Is it dangerous?” Hwin asked, sounding alarmed.

“Not a bit of it,” Edmund replied. “Just slightly embarrassing. Happened to Lucy last year. She somehow ended up north of Beaver’s Dam and turned up three days later claiming to have no knowledge of how she got there.” They shared a laugh as they turned to the other side of the castle keep and started coming up on the other stable.

Edmund turned to the two horses. “Now, you two are obviously free to go into Narnia any time you like, but you needn’t go alone, if you should prefer traveling with us. The Narnians here, that is. And whenever you go back, come to Cair Paravel and we will give you a map of Narnia, so that you can decide where it is that you think you’d like to live.”

“But how do Narnian horses live?” Bree wondered aloud.

“On that score,” Edmund replied as they entered the stables where the talking horses were staying, “I suggest you ask the Narnian horses.”

As Edmund had said, these stables were slightly different from those for the dumb horses. For one, there were three unicorns who were here as well. The centaurs had gone off to the nearby forest, of course, and only turned up at the castle for duty shifts or meals, but would not think of living together with actual horses, talking or no. There were a great many stalls, of course, all large enough for two horses to turn around in, and each one had a wide, open space rather than a door. With so many horses in residence, they were a bit squeezed for space, though. Some were doubled up. Edmund knocked on the side of the doorway for one particular stall and a bay stallion poked his head out curiously. “Your majesty?”

“Hello, Lar,” Edmund said cheerfully. “I was wondering if I might ask you to help these two horses. Bree and Hwin are both Narnians, you see, but were kidnapped away from us very young. They’ll be needing somewhere to sleep for this evening, if there’s still room.” Edmund looked around. “If not, I’ll set some men to building temporary stabling.”

“I think we might squeeze two more in, sire,” Lar replied. “You two are perfectly welcome to bed down with us for the moment. And may I say, welcome home to you both?”

Bree and Hwin both made very polite responses, so Edmund and Cor took their leave and began to go off. As they left, Edmund heard Lar say, “King Edmund is, of course, a wonderful human, but he has just as useless a tongue as the rest of the Sons and Daughters of Adam and Eve. My proper name is Larrey-orrey-heurney-hinney-heh. I can only imagine that Bree and Hwin are the best humans can do with your proper names?”

Cor glanced at Edmund, clearly amused. Edmund shrugged in good humor, long used to such ribbing from the various non-human Narnians. “I suppose I do my best.”

Cor laughed at that.

Chapter Text

When Edmund and Cor returned to the castle, it was time for lunch, so they joined King Lune, Lucy, Corin, Aravis, Peridan, and some of the Archenlandish lords on the terrace. Here Edmund heard, for the first time, the story of Cor rushing a lion—who turned out to be Aslan himself, no less—who had seemed to be attacking Aravis, the telling of which caused no small amount of general amusement. Cor did not look very proud of this report of his courage, and actually seemed to try to sink down beneath the table until someone (either Corin or King Lune, but Edmund never worked out which) kicked him.

But finally they all put their chairs back, or simply sipped chilled wine, or else just gave their attention to conversation rather than food and it was at this point that King Lune finally said, “This morning I spoke with an Arvish Tarkaan, who is one of the tarkaans who surrendered in yesterday’s action. He has taken charge of the Calormene prisoners and asks what ransom we wish to set for their safe return home.”

“If you will, your majesty,” Lord Dar said, “I do not think any of these Calormene prisoners likely to cause trouble in the future. Provided they give us all their solemn word to do no mischief as they leave, I see no cause not to release them freely.”

“I agree, my lord,” Lune said. “It is my thought to put into their charge the bodies of the Calormene dead, to be transported back to their own people and families.”

A nod went around the table. “Father?” said Cor.

“Yes, Cor?” Lune said.

“Aravis will correct me if this is different among the high-born Calormenes, but in Calormen, a dead soldier is usually wrapped in a purple cloth,” Cor told him.

When the king looked to her, Aravis nodded. “It is so in all Calormen,” she said. “With their sword laid onto their chest.”

“It will be seen to,” Lune nodded. Then he frowned. “Now, we still have that sorry creature Rabadash on our hands, my friends, and must resolve what to do with him.”

Peridan got a disgusted look on his face. “Your majesty would have a perfect right to strike off his head. Such an assault as his these past two days puts him on a level with assassins.”

Remembering his anger from the day before, Edmund shook his head, knowing the road that mentality lead down. “That’s very true, but even a traitor may mend. I know one who did.”

Lucy shot him a kind look from down the table.

“In any case, to kill Rabadash would risk raising war with the Tisroc,” Darrin put in.

“A fig for the Tisroc,” Lune shot back. “His strength is in numbers and numbers will never cross the desert.”

At this pronouncement, Cor and Aravis both looked quite alarmed. Edmund was a bit alarmed himself and resolved to inform Lune about Sallowpad’s valley as soon as he might.

“But,” Lune went on, “I do not like killing anyone—even traitors—in cold blood. To have cut his throat in battle would have eased my heart a great deal. This is a different thing.”

A murmur of agreement went around the table.

“By my counsel,” Lucy said thoughtfully, “your majesty should give him another chance. Let him go free on the sincere promise of honest dealings in the future. It may be that he will keep his word.”

Edmund snorted at that. “Maybe apes will grow honest, sister. But, by the Lion, if he breaks it again, I hope it is at such a time and place that any of us might take his head off in fair combat.”

Lune nodded. “It will be tried.” He motioned to an attendant. “Send for the prisoner, friend.”

Rabadash was brought in and both Aravis and Cor were gaped openly to see him look as wild as he did. Given how they likely had considered the man until very recently, Edmund couldn’t blame them. Rabadash looked half-crazed and thoroughly disgruntled. Edmund knew for a fact that he’d spent the night in complete comfort and luxury, and was rather disgusted at him for presenting himself this way.

King Lune fixed Rabadash with a fierce glare and said, “Your royal highness needs no reminding that by the law of nations, as well as by every possible reason of good policy, we have as good a right to your head as any man ever had against another. However, in consideration of your youth, and the ill nurture, devoid of all gentleness and courtesy, which you have doubtless had in the land of slaves and tyrants—”

Edmund noted here that Aravis’ expression was absolutely thunderous at this and suspected that if Lune’s office were so much as one rank lower than that of king he would be treated to a rather spectacular lecture following lunch. As things stood, Edmund suspected that Lune would either learn better or find himself one woman short in the Archenlandish court in very short order.

“—we are disposed to set you free, unharmed, on these conditions,” Lune continued. “First, that—”

“Curse you for a barbarian dog!” Rabadash snarled. “Do you think I will even hear your conditions? Ha! With all your talk of nurture and I know not what. These things are easy to say to a man in chains. Take off these bonds, give me a sword, and let any of you who dares then debate with me!”

With the exception of Cor and Lune, the entire table, including Lucy and Aravis, rose to their feet.

“Father! Can I box him? Please?” Corin asked.

“Peace!” Lune snapped. “Your majesties! My lords! Have we so little dignity among us that we are overset by the ravings of this peacock?” With the exception of Corin, the everyone sat down. When Corin did not sit, Lune glared at him and said, “Sit down, Corin, or you will leave the table.”

Corin, looking very put out, sat.

Lune returned his attention to Rabadash. “I ask your highness again to hear our conditions.”

“I hear no conditions from barbarians and sorcerers,” Rabadash sneered. “Not one of you even dares touch a hair on my head. Every insult you have heaped on me shall be paid with oceans of Narnian and Archenlandish blood.” The prince went on, outright ranting about the horrible fate that was sure to befall them all for having the effrontery not to be conquered by him, and Edmund was almost distantly impressed by how creative an oration it was, even if he had alienated his audience a bit, when Rabadash made the unfortunate mistake of capping off his rant by shouting, “Beware! Beware! Beware! The bolt of Tash falls from above!”

Edmund’s lips twitched.

“Does it ever get caught on a hook half-way?” Corin asked.

Lucy, Aravis, Edmund, and Peridan all desperately reached for their drinks to hide their smiles.

“Oh, shame, Corin,” Lune answered. “Never taunt a man except when he is stronger than you. Then you may do it as you please.”

Edmund did not personally see any especial reason to avoid taunting Rabadash, but decided not to press the point.

“You foolish Rabadash,” Lucy sighed, looking like she was about to say something further, but then, quite suddenly, Edmund was on his feet again, standing quite still.

Aslan was there. He was not ten feet away, and Edmund wanted nothing more than to go to him and kneel at his feet, and apologize for his lack of trust. But Aslan looked at him as he paced along the table, and Edmund forced himself to meet his eyes.

And there in Aslan’s face, though he didn’t deserve it, was the forgiveness Edmund almost couldn’t bear. And yet, he found that he could bear it, and was astounded at the whole thing.

Aslan turned to Rabadash and said, “Rabadash. Take heed. Your doom is very near, but you may still avoid it. Forget your pride. What have you to be proud of? And your anger. Who has done you wrong? And accept the mercy of these good kings.”

Edmund found himself hoping against hope, no matter how furious he’d been at Rabadash before, that he would do as Aslan said. Just listen and be content.

Instead, the man actually stood there, making faces at Aslan himself. “Demon! Demon! Demon! I know you. You are the foul fiend of Narnia, the enemy of the gods! Learn who I am, you horrible phantasm!”

Edmund couldn’t believe what he was hearing. As if any title Rabadash could hold would seem the least bit impressive next to Aslan. From Lucy’s expression, she was having similar thoughts.

“I am descended from Tash, the inexorable, the irresistible. The curse of Tash is upon you! Lightning in the shape of scorpions will rain down on you! The mountains of Narnia will be ground into dust! The—”

“Have a care, Rabadash,” Aslan said quietly, almost as if Rabadash were not speaking at all. “The doom is nearer now. It is at the door. It has lifted the latch.”

“Let the skies fall! Let the earth be torn open! Let fire and blood obliterate the whole world!” Rabadash yelled, spitting in rage. “But I will never stop until I have dragged the barbarian queen back to my palace by her hair, the daughter of dogs, the—”

“The hour has struck.”

Aslan’s quiet voice drowned out Rabadash’s loud shouts, and Edmund immediately forgot his anger at the man for his words about Susan and laughed at him instead. Given that he had been making such an ass of himself, it was supremely fitting—and terribly funny—to see him turned into one right before his eyes. Begging to be turned into a horse instead, no less. There was no hope for it, so Edmund laughed right along with everyone else.

Aslan looked at the donkey before him and said, “Now hear me, Rabadash. Justice shall be mixed with mercy. You shall not always be an ass.”

Rabadash the donkey twitched his ears forward, sending everyone into gales of laughter again. Beside Edmund, Corin had given up entirely and had laid his head in his arms on the table, laughing so hard he seemed to be having difficulty breathing.

“You have appealed to Tash, and in the temple of Tash, you shall be healed.”

Aslan went on to give Rabadash his instructions, while Edmund managed to get his laughter under control. And when he finished, there was a moment of deep silence.

Then he blinked, suddenly surprised to find himself on his feet, half believing he had dreamed the whole thing. He looked around, and thought for a moment that there had never been so brilliant a day with such warm sunshine and so sweet air as this one. It must not have been a dream. It couldn’t have been.

Especially not with Rabadash the donkey still standing there, tail twitching nervously.

Lune smiled at him and said, “Your highness, I am truly sorry that things have come to this extremity. You will remember, of course, that it was none of our doing. And of course we will be happy to provide your highness with transport back to Tashbaan for the…er…treatment which Aslan has prescribed. You will have every comfort which your situation allows: the best of cattle-boats, the freshest carrots and thistles—”

Here one of the guards had to dodge a kick from the transformed prince, who was quickly muzzled and led away, braying in anger.

Aravis and Cor were still laughing, although more quietly.

“What’s gotten into the two of you?” Corin asked.

Cor laughed harder, trying not to, of course. Aravis managed to gasp out, “The festival! It’s enormous! All of Tashbaan will see him change back into a man!”

“They’ll hear about it all the way down to Azim Balda by the next day,” Cor agreed.

Edmund shook his head, grinning in spite of himself. “Well, I suppose that’s that.”

That night, a huge feast was held on the lawn of the castle. The food was amazing, the wine was perfect, and the music was excellent. First there was poetry, and Bree was induced into telling the story of the Battle of Zalindreh, and Aravis was coaxed into telling the story of her adventures with Cor, which she did in the Calormene style, and Edmund found it quite a good style of story. Afterwards, Lucy was pressed into telling the story of how she and her brothers and sister had come into Narnia. And finally King Lune signaled to a crew on one of the adjoining mountains who started up a fireworks show. At this point, Edmund retired to the back of the group with a glass of spiced wine to toe off his shoes and lay on his back to watch the fireworks.

Quite unexpectedly, Cor came wandering back a few moments later. And he wasn’t watching the fireworks at all. In fact, he was staring at the woods like he wished to run away. After a brief internal debate, Edmund called out to him.

Cor turned. “Your majesty?” he said.

“Edmund will do for the moment. This is a party, after all,” Edmund grinned.

“Ah…right…,” Cor said, clearly feeling wrong-footed.

“Sit down.” Edmund patted the ground beside him. “You look white as a sheet. What’s gotten into you?”

“Father says I’m to be king!” Cor burst out.

Edmund offered him a crooked grin. “You are his eldest son.”

“But I can’t be king. I’m not like you!”

“Like me how?” Edmund asked, genuinely confused. The fireworks continued, lighting their faces in green, blue, red, and white bursts while they spoke.

“I wasn’t born knowing how to do all this!”

“I wasn’t either, or didn’t you listen when Lucy told our story?” Edmund replied, somewhat amused.

Cor frowned. “But you…you came up today and managed to make Bree feel at ease when Hwin and Aravis and I have been with him for weeks and never once could reassure him about coming back to Narnia. ‘Do talking horses roll,’ indeed!”

“You’ll have to explain that one to me, sometime,” Edmund interjected.

“Anyhow, I just know I’ll never manage it all. Aravis is going on all the time about how I have no manners, or don’t know how to go on, or—”

“Now, stop right there. Whatever you lack in manners you make up for in genuine humility. It is true that you lack polish, but so does Corin, who has been a prince all his life. Or do you think it was very mannerly of him to go running through the streets of Tashbaan, administering beatings to whosoever it suited his fancy to beat?”

Cor quirked a brow, and for the first time, Edmund believed they really were brothers and not just look-alikes. Cor was serious where Corin was playful. Edmund was afraid he’d never see this boy properly relax, but now that he saw this look, he wasn’t worried. Obviously, he just needed some time to adjust.

“Second, whatever you lack in knowledge, you can learn,” Edmund continued.

Cor made a face. “All right.”

“Next,” Edmund continued, hiding his laugh at Cor’s low opinion of education, “none of us who are kings or queens do everything on our own. Cair Paravel and Anvard are both full to the brim with some of the smartest people in Narnia and Archenland all to help us find our way.”

“So you can ask for help, then?”

“No. You must ask for help. Frequently.”

Cor nodded seriously.

“Last, and most importantly, your father is not likely to make you king any time soon. You will have time to learn what you need.”

“Then you don’t think I’ll make a very good king, either,” Cor said, tearing up the grass around them by its roots.

Edmund frowned. “If you were made king tomorrow, I think you would find the task much harder than you will find it when you are made king one day. You clearly are not ready now. That does not mean you never will be.”

Cor sighed.

“For now, Cor, just listen to your father and take your schooling seriously,” Edmund said, patting his shoulder. “That will be a good start.”

He nodded.

“And for right now,” Edmund said, “watch the fireworks.”

Corin nodded and looked up. “They are pretty.”

Edmund did not see him the next morning, when he, Lucy, Peridan, Bree, Hwin, and the Narnian army returned to Narnia. With them were Kerrow’s body, which would be buried near Cair Paravel, and Lord Dirian’s, which would be buried near the Cauldron Pool. When they arrived on the Dancing Lawn, Edmund officially disbanded the army, and thanked them for their service. He and Lucy then went on towards Cair Paravel, with their escort, alone.

They did not arrive until late that night, so Edmund was surprised when Susan came flying out of the castle and into the courtyard as they were climbing down from their horses. He was absolutely astonished though when Peter came running behind her.

Peter seized Lucy up into an enormous hug and swung her around in a circle before turning to Edmund and giving him the same treatment—or trying to, much to the amusement of their sisters.

They all went to bed afterwards, of course, and so didn’t catch up until the next morning. Peter had apparently won a solid victory against the giants of Harfang and had returned the previous afternoon. Susan and Tumnus had everything at Cair Paravel running with such uncommon smoothness that they would likely have everything in order before the Summer Festival after all, and Edmund and Lucy brought with them Cor’s promise to come for the celebration.

Peter would hear of nothing but that he and Susan would go down the next week with the first shipment of supplies from Narnia to helping repairs to Anvard, claiming that it was high time he met Prince Cor, and good-naturedly grumbling about missing all the fun whilst being stuck in a swamp with Marsh-Wiggles surrounding him and telling him he was sure to be drowned at any moment.

Then, of course, came the more serious tasks. Kerrow was buried with all four sovereigns in attendance, along with most of the court. The leopard had been a great favorite to everyone, and no one even tried to hide their tears. And since Lord Dirian had had no wife or children, a new lord had to be appointed in his place, an appointment Edmund found himself loathe to make.

However, once it was finally made, at last, they were free of trouble from Rabadash. Bree and Hwin quickly worked out how talking horses in Narnia did get on after all, although Bree was still nervous on the subject of rolling. But Edmund finally found himself with little to do, aside from his regular duties, excepting, of course, to enjoy spending time with his brother and sisters, play chess with Haldring, and to eat Rosebiter’s excellent sweetrolls.

And, naturally, to look forward to seeing Cor and Corin over the Summer Festival.