Big Bang Fic: Fuel to Fire, Chapter 5

[narniabb_mod]

Title: Fuel To Fire
Author: snitchnipped
Rating: T
Disclaimer: Part of Four of the Dichotomy Universe. Familiarity with Dichotomy, Splintered, and Hail to the Days is highly encouraged. All can be found on my ff.net directory.
Possible Spoilers/Warnings: Implied Adult Situations, Violence
Author's Notes: Many, many thanks to my betas wingedflight21, lady_songsmith, and rthstewart for all the encouragement and hand-holding. My hope is that there is a little something in it for everyone. Whatever you get out of it, I want to thank you for taking the time for reading this monster. I hope you enjoy it.
Summary: “All the great things are simple, and many can be expressed in a single word: freedom, justice, honor, duty, mercy, hope.” — Winston Churchill



FUEL TO FIRE—CHAPTER FIVE
“It is said that elephants talk to one another, mumbling with their mouths the speech of men. But to not all is the speech of the beasts audible, but only the men who tame them hear it.” — Oppian

::x:x:x::
The Beach, Cair Paravel, Narnia. Thirdweek, September, 1010.
Susan, Day 22, Cont.

Durah sucked up a trunkful of seawater and blew it all across her back as she sat on her haunches on the beach. Lucy erupted in a fit of shrieks and giggles, rolling away through the sand to escape the spray of water. The unexpectedly warm, cloudless day had been welcome, and the beach had proved to be too enticing for the two to ignore. After several hours of swimming in shallow waters—and what a magnificent sight it was to see the Elephant swim, nearly rivaling Susan in abilities—they had collapsed in exhaustion on the strand. All in all, it had been a brilliant day. Durah never ceases to amaze me, Lucy thought, as she crawled back to sit alongside her friend.
“Oh, I do enjoy a good swim, your Majesty!” Durah exclaimed. “And it has been several years since we have been able to.”
“Why is that? Didn’t you say you had lakes in your Valley?”

“Yes, but they are too shallow until springtime. And then they get too crowded.”

The surf came close enough to soak Lucy’s feet, the water retaining the day’s warmth from the sun and warming her soles. She found the feeling intoxicatingly delicious. “I could never live away from the ocean. I love it so.”
“We used to graze by the ocean, when I was young Calf. But the villages have grown on the beaches. The chance of being spotted is too risky, and we’ve moved farther and farther away. Our duty is to the elephants, after all. But I have found that being dutiful can also be rather lonely….” Durah trailed.

Lucy peered closely up at her friend, slowly registering everything that she had said. At that very moment, she was briefly reminded of Susan.

“Not that we have much to complain about, for the vegetation in our Valley is much tastier,” Durah quickly added.

“Yes, I can imagine so.”

“Though we do miss the oranges.”

Their conversation waned, but Lucy didn’t mind. She leaned back on her elbows and tilted her head back. A breeze picked up, ruffling the salt-leadened wild tangle of her hair, and the sounds of the waves lulled her with their erratic rhythm. “You have worn me out today, Durah,” she said with a satisfied sigh. “I feel like I could nap right here on the beach. How about it?”

“Oh, I don’t sleep much, really. Only a few hours at night.”

“Don’t you get tired?” Lucy asked, shocked. One would think a Beast so great would need more sleep than anything, well, smaller.

“Not really. Mostly hungry,” Durah explained, brushing sand off of her leg with he trunk. “It’s dinnertime soon, is it not?”

The kitchens and stables combined were not very thrilled with Durah’s voracious appetite. Lucy started to wonder how they would be able to feed a whole Herd of Elephants if—when, she mentally corrected herself—they came to Narnia to live permanently. After all, Cair Paravel was itself seaside and probably did not have the favored foods that the Elephant Valley in Archenland provided. Or the space, or the climate….

Stop, Lucy, she admonished herself. Of course they must return home to Narnia. “I wonder if Beaknocker managed to get to my brother all right,” Lucy idly said. Durah just sat beside her in companionable silence.

The sun was starting to dip behind the mountains in the west, and the shadow across the beach was slowly getting longer and longer. In the distance, Lucy saw the workers in the harbor finishing their day’s work on the Splendor Hyaline. She noticed they were making remarkable progress, though she wish they could work even faster. She longed to have the completed flagship ready in time for the next year’s planned trip to the islands, and believed it was still possible. Despite what Peter said.

The breeze turned, coming unexpectedly from the south with a cold twist, and Lucy rubbed some heat into goose-pimpled arms.
“Are you chilled, your Majesty?” Durah asked, reaching over and gathering Lucy closer with her trunk.
Lucy tucked into the Elephant’s side, thankful for the the warmth the thick, wrinkled skin of her friend provided. At least she’s since dried off. “Autumn is arriving as we speak, friend!” she laughed.
“It seems so.”
“Summer always lasts longer here in Narnia than anywhere else. It’s part of the magic,” Lucy said, her voice full of marvel. It was her favorite season, and she was going to miss it dearly, as she did every year. “Longer than in Archenland. Where it looks like it’s going to rain,” Lucy added, looking beyond the harbor at the dark, ominous clouds brewing in the distant southwest. “It’s going to miss us this time, I think. I do hope Susan and Edmund are able to stay dry.”

::x:x:x::
“The beast that passeth all others in wit and mind…and by its intelligence, it makes as near an approach to man as matter can approach spirit.” — Aristotle
::x:x:x:x:x:x:x::
Calormene Camp on the Winding Arrow River, Province Unknown, Archenland. Thirdweek, September, 1010.
Edmund, Day 22, Cont.

It was a full two hours after leaving the village before Edmund finally saw the Calormene encampment on the horizon. It seemed rather small, with only about about a half of a dozen tents set up. The location was definitely on point of where Peridan had told him. They were, indeed, located on the extreme southern edge of Archenland, though Edmund was unsure what province he was currently in.
There was also a disconcerting notion that Edmund couldn’t see much beyond the tents, for they were located at the top of the cliff leading down to the banks of the Winding Arrow, to which the desert lay beyond at a lower elevation on the other side. It was a clever location to set up due to this natural boundary, especially since they were so small in their numbers. But the Calormene tents stood out like a sore thumb on the Archenland landscape. The stark whiteness seemed sterile and imposing on the land, and there was little consideration for the area they set up their encampment. The long grasses had been trampled on, and a few of the stark trees had been cut down. A stack of the dark, spindly tree skeletons balanced precariously on the edge, and scattered stray branches lay around—evidence of pieces being pulled apart for fuel.

Edmund heard a muted caw! from above as Milletpeck identified that she was approaching.

She landed gently on the head of his horse and balanced carefully with the slow, steady movement. The horse twitched an ear, but was used to her presence by now.

“Sir Peridan has secured a protected observation point of the tent Ferrin and Her Majesty are located. According to Sir Peridan, they had already taken a look at the beast first thing.”

“All right. What are we looking at here, then?”

“Five octagonal tents total, traditional configuration. There’s not enough tents for battle, and their horses are exposed on the east. Three tents to the north, two to the south on the cliff’s edge. The entrances face the perimeter. The layout allows for three triangles in between, and Sir Peridan is currently hiding in the western most gap, with Ferrin and Her Majesty in the northwest tent.”

Bless this Bird. “Which one is the elephant in?”

“The southeast.”

Edmund nodded. As they rode closer, the glowing lights of the fires and lamps from inside the tents got bigger and brighter. It sounded like it was going to be a tight squeeze, but he was starting to get used to those. Had the encampment been in battle formation, there would have been more space in between the tents, even an open area that would amass troops, chariots, horses, and even their slaves. It would have been easier to maneuver around, but it was a relief that their camp was not set up as such.

“Peridan’s horse?”

She flicked her head to the left. “There are some large rocks to the west where the terrain breaks up.”

“Then we shall go there first. Wait, how’s the guard situation?”

“They are few, but they are well armed. But they are also sporadic, with no set pattern to their movements. As far as I can tell. Her Majesty’s Doves are keeping watch of them.”

“Good work, Milletpeck, thank you.” She was such an incredibly valued asset to his Company besides being a good friend. “Keep patrolling the area with the Doves, and I shall join Peridan soon, depending on how well I can slip by the guards.”

Milletpeck bobbed her head down and took off in flight. Edmund slowed his horse to a halt to consider the situation. It was best he headed west now and skirt the perimeter to hide from the guards. Fortuitously, the wind had picked up some, and the dry grasses rustling would mask any sound he made as he got closer. The western wind also brought in the cold, with the threat of rain trailing right behind. He looked up at the dark clouds slowly swallowing up the stars and continued on.

There had been a lot of travel around the surrounding grounds of the Calormene encampment though, with the grass trampled in no set paths or trails, and the occasional tell-tale footprint in the soil appearing here and there. Mostly horse, but occasionally the definitive giant print of elephant was present. The camp was small, but it was active.

The large boulder hid Peridan’s horse well, and Edmund’s own horse nickered quietly when it reunited with his friend’s mount. They may not have ridden Horses, but they were well trained enough to not have to be tied down. Which allows for a quick escape when needed. Still, Edmund missed his friend Phillip and wished he could have brought him along.

After giving both horses an affectionate pat on their noses, Edmund made the slow approach to the tents, creeping along while crouched down amongst the tallest grasses.

Milletpeck was right—the guards movements were sporadic. And sloppy, for their paces often changed and at times, one would get caught up in conversation with their fellow guards. Edmund would’ve hedged that they were inexperienced, but one look of the sharp, well cared for scimitars and alert reactions to the smallest sounds coming from the brush proved otherwise.

Luck was on his side, though, as the two closest to him traveled together to the east, and Edmund was able to make a quick dash to the tent closest to him. He eased around the side until he came to where it butted up against another tent, forming a well masked pocket. There he saw Peridan crouched low, peering through a rip in the heavy canvas.

Edmund carefully stepped over one of the stakes holding down a support rope, trying desperately not to trip. His one clumsy footstep was enough for Peridan to whip his head at attention, blade already in hand. When he saw it was Edmund, Peridan sheathed this knife back and eased back down to make room for Edmund.

“How’s it going in there?” Edmund whispered as he eased himself down.

Peridan cocked his head. “Promising.”

Edmund could only hear low voices coming from within and wished he had a rip of his own to peer through. “And the elephant? Did you see it?”

His friend shook his head. “I did not, I’ve been here the entire time. Ferrin has been praising it up and down, but I could tell from both of them that they were shaken by what they saw.”

Edmund raised himself up and tried to negotiate how he could maneuver a way to get to the elephant tent. “I’m turned around. Is it the one at the corner over there?

With Peridan’s nod in the affirmative, Edmund made the decision. He needed to take a look.

“Beaknocker’s with you, right?” Peridan asked.

Edmund frowned. “No, I haven’t seen him since I sent him off with you.”

Peridan scratched at his neck and let out a quiet sigh in frustration. “He took off as Ferrin and Susan left for the elephant tent. I haven’t seen him since.” At Edmund’s low growl of annoyance, he added, “I’m sure he’s around, though. No need to worry yet.”

“Yet. Right,” Edmund added, unconvinced. At least I can count on Milletpeck. Speaking of…. He whistled low to call her. Within seconds, Milletpeck had swooped down and landed on one of the tent stakes.

“Cover me as I go to the elephant,” he ordered, and she immediately launched back into the air. Edmund carefully climbed around Peridan, supporting himself with a hand on his friend’s shoulder.

“Good luck,” Peridan whisper-called. Edmund gave him a quiet slap in acknowledgement.

It was slow going maneuvering the nether-spaces between tents, and more than once he had to catch himself from tripping over stakes and ropes. He managed to not voice aloud his curses—he didn’t want to have to deal with silently taking out a guard or two. Not that he didn’t know how to, of course. The noises of the Calormenes horses masked his final approach to the elephant’s tent and Edmund crouched down in a tuft of slightly trampled grass.

He took out one of his daggers and checked the grain of the tent’s canvas. Running the blade along between the woven threads, he poked it through the tent twice, creating two intersecting slits of his dagger. Edmund took one last glance around to the exposed side of the tent. He was still in the all clear. With his fingers, he carefully tore the V-shaped opening wider. By ripping it, he hoped it made it look more like a natural flaw and less like a deliberate knifing.

Edmund lifted the flap, holding it in place, and blinked to allow his eyes to adjust. The tent was well lit on the inside, with several of the Calormene-style ornamental lanterns scattered around the edges. But even as his eyes slightly watered in response to the light change, there was no mistaking—this was indeed the correct tent.

The elephant was much, much larger than any of Zanta’s Herd, but Edmund knew that Narnian Elephants were smaller than normal elephants. And it was heavily decorated—the beast was practically dripping in a cape of jewels, bells, shiny coins, gilded leather and the like. But even with Edmund’s limited time in Calormen, he knew that was to be expected of any pets they kept in captivity. Normally, such a display didn’t bother Edmund. He had seen countless horses and camels in Tashbaan strut along proudly in their adornments. But this did not sit right with him, not this time. Not with the state the elephant seemed to be in.

The elephant was quite despondent, with its trunk low, dangling loosely and trailing on the ground. And though it was awake, its eyes were cast down as well, whether in submission or resignation, Edmund did not know. Most likely both. It did not move, save for the occasional slow blink of its eyes.

And it was way too thin, with the pallor of its loose hanging skin giving it a sickly look. Edmund saw several scars marring the beast, with some wounds still scabbed over. Despite the size, the elephant seemed weakened and malnourished, looking as if it took all its strength just to stand in place. Not that it could move if it wanted to—multiple ropes attached from its legs and pulled tightly to the inner tent stakes in all four directions. If the elephant were even try to pull free, the tent would collapse around it. The ear that Edmund could see had a wicked tear through the middle, and where he assumed a long, curving tusk would be was nothing but a sawed-off stump.

A shuffling came from within the tent, and Edmund saw what he presumed to be the elephant’s keeper haphazardly dump a small bucket in front of the beast. The bucket’s contents spilled, with rotten fruits and other foods of questionable origin splattering across the floor of tent. As the elephant slowly picked through its meal with its trunk, the handler pulled off the beasts decorations, and not gently either. The curtain of painted bells from its back came down in a clatter, scraping the elephant across the eye, causing it to flinch. The handler merely laughed at its reaction and gave the elephant a painful slap on its side with the same headpiece. The action made Edmund’s stomach churn in sympathy, his mind race with anger, and his palm sweat around the handle of his dagger. On the edges of his mind, he also felt his old friend panic start to set in, too.

Edmund had seen enough. Tucking the flap of fabric back down, he stood up, sheathed his weapon, and picked his way back to Peridan. He counted his steps to keep the panic at bay.

His friend was still on his haunches, peering through the hole in the tent, a line of light leaking from within bleeding across his face. Peridan looked up as Edmund approached and raised a finger to his lips before Edmund could even open his mouth to share what he saw. Crouching down next Peridan, Edmund leaned his ear closer to the tent and listened in.

“Now, don’t be stupid, Helen,” Ferrin admonished. “We now know what elephants are capable of, that they are able to move heavy objects at great distance with little effort. It would be a tremendous help to us and for your family, I hope you realize. Which is exactly why I think we should consider this.”

“But what of the expense of feeding such a beast, Redian?” Susan asked. “Something that big and powerful surely would need more food than we should be able to afford, even with my sister’s help.”

The older Calormene from before shook his head and reached for a dried fig. “Your wife is smarter than you give her credit for. You would think they’d be more trouble than they’re worth. But you’d be wrong,” he said with a knowing smile. “I assure you, though, it is manageable. We would recommend that you feed your perspective elephant two—“

Peridan shook his head and frowned. “They changed the subject,” he whispered. “I’ll have to fill you in later. How did it go for you? Did you find the elephant all right?”

“I rather wish I hadn’t,” Edmund muttered.

Peridan frowned in response, but their attention was brought back to Ferrin’s booming voice from the tent.

“Where did you find this thing, anyway? Are there more out there?”

“We have our resources,” was the simple reply.

“And this operation the Tarkaan is running is legit? I would not want to go against the King,” Ferrin said.

Peridan sat back to rub at his cramped legs, giving Edmund the opportunity to spy on what was going on inside. Edmund leaned over and closed one eye to peer through the hole. He saw Ferrin and his sister sitting cross-legged on an elaborate rug, with several small dishes and cups of food and drink spread out in front of them. Sitting on the opposite side were the two Calormenes from earlier, joined by a third man. By his colorful dress and his stature, Edmund knew this new character to be the one in charge.

The new Calormene smiled condescendingly. “You need not worry yourself with such details. I can assure you that the Tarkaan is quite renown and held in high esteem, both by King Lune and the Tisroc (may he live forever) himself.”

Tarkaan? Edmund frowned. “Which Tarkaan?” he mouthed to Peridan, who shook his head in response. Peridan did not seem surprised by this, though—his must have been what he wanted to fill Edmund in on. What are we dealing with here? Edmund turned back to the hole.

“It is getting rather late. Where is your settlement, exactly? Will you have to travel far?”

“Just a couple of miles west of here,” Ferrin said, reaching for an olive, but hesitated slightly over the bowl when he realized his mistake.

West?! Edmund quietly cursed to himself, while Peridan’s head fell to his chest with a slight groan and a muttered “shit.”

“Yes, and it’s already dark out, and we really should leaving soon before it gets too late. My sister’s expecting us with news, after all.” Susan was even less pleased with Ferrin’s flub. Though her voice was warm, the pointed look she gave her “husband” was ice cold. They were already nearly twenty miles away from camp, and now Ferrin had just added another’s hour time of travel—at least, if the Calormenes decided to follow their movements—by getting his directions all mixed up.

“Don’t worry, love, we will be home shortly,” Ferrin said, giving Susan a gentle rub at the small of her back.

Two bottles of Tenifore, Su.

“Are you sure? Do you have any further questions for us?” asked the third Calormene.

“If we do, we will be in contact. Which we will, anyway, once we come to a decision.” Ferrin drained the rest of his cup. “If’ you’re still here in a week’s time…?”

“We most assuredly will be. More will be joining us on the morrow from Calormen. Most notably our esteemed Tarkaan,” the young Calormene said. “We are to ride out tonight to meet his Excellency and his men so as to escort them here.”

The third Calormene turned quickly to Ferrin. “Let us accompany you on your journey, then, as we, too, will be riding west.”

If Ferrin felt any panic, he hid it well as he slowly eased himself up from his reclined position. “I don’t think that’s necessary—”

“But we insist. We are headed that way ourselves, and there is strength in numbers, especially in the darkness of these wilds.”

“If they’re riding from Calormen,” Peridan whispered in a rush, “They will eventually have to turn south into the mountains. Ferrin and Susan will want to split off and ride north. They can shake them off then.”

It made sense. And if Ferrin did not have the insight to eventually part ways before it was too late, he had faith that Susan would. “What if they’re bluffing, and they really want to follow them all the way ‘home’? Or…or worse?”

Peridan blinked a few times in thought. “We don’t have much choice in the matter, either way.” He rubbed at his jaw. “It’ll work out, Ed, I’m sure. The Calormenes want our business. They won’t do anything to compromise that. And we will be keeping an eye on their progress, anyway.”

Edmund nodded, once again thankful for his friend’s wise words. Peridan was always good for that. He turned back in time to see Ferrin standing up.

“In the meantime, my wife is correct, it is rather late and we best be on our way. Helen?” he asked, offering her a hand as she stood.

Edmund sat back and turned to Peridan. “And that’s our cue. Do you think we got all the information we needed? Besides the name of the Tarkaan.”

Peridan leaned forward for another quick glance inside the tent. “I think so,” he whispered. “I can fill you in on what you missed when we reconvene.”

“Good,” he said. “I suppose it’s pretty worthless to ride point this time since we don’t know where Ferrin intends to lead them.”

His friend sighed. “As if the trip back wasn’t long enough,” Peridan seethed. “What was Ferrin thinking?”

“If you trail them this time, I will make a quick sweep around the entire area before heading back to the new camp. And when Milletpeck returns, send her along my way, all right? Oh, and Beaknocker, too, if he hasn’t found himself half way to Telmar by now,” Edmund added as he slowly stood up.

Peridan nodded. “Safe travels.”

“Thanks. Same to you. Lion guide you,” Edmund muttered as he climbed over his friend and eased his way back out into the open.

Luck was on his side again as he was completely in the clear to return to his horse and comb the surrounding acres of the camp, far enough away from the sentries but close enough to make his search effective. Once he was satisfied, he turned his horse and nudged him into a steady gallop, with only his thoughts and the sound of his horse’s hooves accompanying him on the very long ride back to camp.

The moon and stars were completely engulfed by the time Edmund first saw the slight glow of light coming from the new camp. He had hoped that the rain would stave off long enough for his sister and friends to return. But before he could even conjure a silent plea to Aslan for fair weather to last until they reached camp, the smell of rain on earth already permeated his senses and a boom of thunder sounded in the distance.

Edmund gave up on that wish, and instead asked the Lion to look after the Calormene elephant, though Edmund truly felt the beast was beyond help at this point. That sobering thought lingered with him as he slowed his pace and approached the grove where their new camp lay.

“It seems autumn has arrived early, hasn’t it?” Baris called to him from a rather large boulder situated next to the first cypress tree. The faun was not near as bundled as Edmund, with only a short leather cape protecting his shoulders from the elements. It soared behind him as he leapt down from his perch on the rock.

“Yes. Just what we wanted to avoid. Especially the rains that come with it,” Edmund said in reply as he dismounted. “Is Millet back?”

Baris straightened and shook his head. “No, I’m afraid not, sire. Nor Peridan,” he added rubbing his arms as he stamped his hooves into the ground for warmth.

Edmund wrapped his own cloak closer around his shoulders. How fauns managed to stay warm with that much bare skin exposed was a mystery that had eluded him for nearly a decade. We need to wrap this up, fast. It’s only going to get much, much colder soon. “I don’t expect him for some time.”

“And her Majesty, sire?”

“Won’t be here for the same reason, thanks to Ferrin’s idiocy,” Edmund grumbled. “If you see any carrion birds flying somewhere in the southwest, you will know what became of his fate. Courtesy of my sister, I’m sure.”

Baris’ breath fogged as he laughed and pounded a hoof into the wet ground.

“But I believe they got the information we need,” Edmund added. “Peridan is trailing them.” The wind around them picked up, and the sound of rain pelting the earth increased in volume as the shower turned into a downpour. The grove of cypress trees was providing little cover from the elements. “Once they return, I’d like everyone to meet in my tent, no matter how late the hour. But don’t bother waiting for Beaknocker, though,” he added over the sound of the pelting rain. “Lion knows where he’s ended up. Unless he’s returned here?”

Baris shook his head once in the negative. “I’m afraid not.”

“No, of course not. I’m sure he’ll catch up. Eventually,” Edmund said curtly. “Right. I’m going in.”

The faun gave a nod and took the reins from him to see to the horse. Edmund in turn looked over his shoulder from where he had come from. Nothing—no sign of Susan nor Ferrin, but neither did he expect one. He sighed and made his way to his tent where Turvalin was already awaiting him.

Edmund traded in his weapons with the silent satyr for a flagon of wine and a goblet before entering his tent. Once again, Turvalin had made his tent rather comfortable in preparation for his arrival. He dumped his newly acquired goods on his desk before he taking off his cloak. How the satyr managed to warm his tent in this weather, Edmund didn’t know, but his curiosity was lacking this evening to give it a second thought.

Just wet enough outside and warm enough inside for this to get musty, though, he thought as he draped his water-leaden cloak across one of the spare stools. He quickly lit his lamp, turning it to its lowest glow he could without it going out. Edmund justified doing so as to allow his eyes to adjust, though really he wanted nothing more than to sit in the dark to think. He pulled a spare wool blanket off of his cot, wrapped it around his shoulders, and slowly sat down on the chair by his desk. The wet weather made his knee ache as he bent it, thus dampening his mood even further.

He saw before he heard the rustle of wings as Milletpeck caught the edge of the tent’s flap and flew to land on top of his camp desk.

“They will not be here until well after midnight,” she simply offered.

Just as I thought. Edmund smiled his thanks and leaned over to turn the lamp up slightly. Sitting alone was one thing, but there was no need for the two of them to brood in the dark. He stretched his legs out before pouring himself some wine. He held his full goblet out to her before taking a drink, but she shook her head. Sometimes she partook with him, sometimes she did not.

The rain picked up slightly more outside, and Edmund’s thoughts once again returned to the miserable condition of the Calormenes elephant. “Did you get a chance to see it, Millet? The elephant?”

“I did.”

He took a long drink of his wine, savoring the warmth it provided within. “It was bad, wasn’t it,” he said, not even phrasing it as a question.

Milletpeck bowed her head down in sorrow. “I considered it bad to be frozen in body and thought. But the elephant’s imprisonment is a fate far worse,” she said quietly.

He looked down at the melancholic bird and swallowed heavily. Edmund never inquired of Milletpeck’s time in the castle, and nor did she of his. It was understood between them that they need not ever ask.

He reached out and rubbed down her glossy breast with the back of his hand, prompting the Jackdaw to instinctively climb on and cling to his finger. She tilted her head in permission, and Edmund wordlessly raised her up. She carefully climbed onto his wool-clad shoulder and nestled into the warmth of his neck.

As a cold breeze picked up and blew its way into the tent, the two sat in contemplative silence for the next several hours, awaiting for sign of Ferrin and Susan’s return.

::x:x:x::
“The Dog is man’s companion; the Elephant is his slave.” — Sir Samuel Baker
::x:x:x:x:x:x:x::
Secret Narnian Camp Southwest of Esting, Darden, Archenland. Thirdweek, September, 1010.
Susan, Day 22, Cont.

Ferrin somehow knew how to crack nearly every bone in his body, even while on the saddle. And it was raining, so she had no idea how she could hear him over the sound of the rainfall. He moved to his neck, and the sound of it of popping into place sent shivers up and down Susan’s spine—shivers that were unwanted and unnecessary. It was already quite cold outside, colder than they had expected it to be at this time of the night at this time of the month.
Of course, she wasn’t expecting to have been out riding this late, or in the rain, either. She glared at the back of his head, wondering if he could feel the vitriol she was silently sending his way. In the long run, going west had worked out for the best, but it was the principle of the matter.

A loud boom! of thunder came from the west and started rolling towards their direction, and the rain echoed its own response by building into a solid downpour. As the hood of her cape started slipping, she quickly raised it up to cover her exposed neck and wrapped braids.

Ferrin looked up at the rain, his eyes squinted against the drops hammering his face. He then reached for his hip flask and took a swig. Once he was done, he started to put it away before he decided to turn around in his saddle to offer some to her. Susan’s lips tightened and she shook her head. Ferrin just shrugged, took another drink, attached the flask back to his hip, and started humming loudly to himself.

At long last, a welcome sight appeared along the dark horizon—a lone grove of cypress and the new camp, exactly as her Doves had described. As they got closer, she could just make out a large shape situated just in front of the trees. Baris was well camouflaged—she only saw him when his form straightened up on top of what she now saw was a large rock. The faun did not call out to them, but instead sent them a giant wave before leaping off and retreating back into the trees, presumably to alert her brother.

“That wasn’t so bad now, was it, your Majesty? I think it all worked for the best, don’t you think?” Ferrin asked her, but she pointedly ignored him. Four hours of unexpected added travel—the first slow with their Calormene escort, and the other three due to the rain slowing their progress—was definitely “bad” in Susan’s book. ‘We’ll be home shortly, love.’ Indeed.

She slipped off the saddle of her poor, soaked horse and was relieved to finally stretch her legs out again. Baris was quick to return to them.

“Have either of you seen Beaknocker at all?” the faun asked, gathering the reins of Susan’s horse from her. The rain dripped off of the horns of his bare head.

She shook her head. “No, sorry, we haven’t. We thought he was with Edmund.”

“Damned Bird,” Ferrin uttered.

Susan dismounted. “Perhaps Peridan knows. He should be here shortly. Though ‘shortly’ does not mean much around here, does it?” She did not bother to wait for Ferrin’s response before she proceeded towards Edmund’s tent. When she peeled the flap open, she saw her brother comically bundled in his camp chair with Milletpeck tucked in on his shoulder.

“Well, you all took your time,” he grumbled at her. “Where’s your “husband”? I’d like to thank him for keeping me up past my bedtime.”

Any retort on her end was interrupted when Turvalin entered, carrying a large, steaming pot and a tray of bowls that he set down on Edmund’s desk. Ferrin and Baris followed the satyr in.

“Thank you, Turvalin,” she said, and started taking off her cape. “Yes, well, it took even longer because we ended up traveling with our hosts for a good hour before we were able to part ways with them.”

“Did they not trust you?” Baris asked as the squire swept by him to take Susan and Ferrin’s wet garments.

Ferrin shrugged. “I think they did. But I think they don’t trust anyone else. They may have wanted to make sure no one else was following us, too, as they went to meet Tarkaan…Whoever. They kept looking over their shoulders and all. I think they would have escorted us no matter what direction we were going, which is why I think it all worked out for the best.”

Edmund sat up in alarm, causing Milletpeck to flap over to the camp desk. “You were being followed, though, Ferrin.”

“Yes, yes, I know. We were worried about that,” Ferrin said, “but Peridan somehow snuck by them.”

“Oh, thank you again, Turvalin. This is much appreciated,” she said as she took a bowl of stew from Turvalin. “Peridan is safe—one of my Doves confirmed,” Susan reassured Edmund, and he eased back into his chair. Perhaps he should not have started drinking before we arrived.

Ferrin wiped his nose on his sleeve. “He was a mile behind us. Should be here soon.” He accepted the mug of stew that Turvalin handed him. “But good thing, huh? That we went west? Otherwise they may have followed us all the way here!” Ferrin exclaimed and shoveled a spoonful of stew into his mouth.

“Not if they were going to meet their Tarkaan out west, anyway, Ferrin,” Edmund said. “Was that not the entire point—“

He was interrupted when Milletpeck abruptly took flight off of Edmund’s shoulder and flew out of the tent, nearly grazing the top of Susan’s head. She looked quizzically at her brother.

“Peridan’s returned, I think,” Edmund observed. He turned to Turvalin before the squire was able to slip his way out of the tent. “Turvalin, what news from the official Narnian Camp?”

“All is well, your Majesty. Raven and Pigeon reports from around the province say no one suspects the Queen Susan elsewhere than with the Lord Dar.”

“Excellent. Thank you. Please see to Peridan’s horse, I want to keep Baris here for the time being.”

Turvalin gave a slight bow and quickly exited just as Peridan walked in, Milletpeck on his shoulder. The man was drenched and looked absolutely miserable as his cloak dripped rainwater onto the floor.

“The west, Ferrin?” he ground out without preamble.

“But it all worked out!” Ferrin cried, his arms up in defense.

Peridan shook his head in contempt and pushed the rain-soaked hair out of his eyes. Milletpeck flew back to Edmund’s desk when Peridan reached to take off his own cloak. “I know it did, but that reassurance does not get feeling back in my hands and feet,” he complained, flinging his wet coat off in disgust.

Susan crossed to the pot and prepared a bowl of the still steaming stew for Peridan. “How did you get by them, anyway? The Calormenes were watching our surroundings like a Hawk for any sort of movement,” she remarked.

“I actually rode ahead of you and found a good vantage point that was well hidden,” Peridan said. He dipped his head in thanks when she handed him a bowl of stew. “From there, I was able to see you approach and ride past where I was for some distance. I waited for awhile after the Calormenes passed by again to return to their camp before following you all back here, with the help of one of the Doves showing me where you cut back up to the north. ”

“And that’s why I keep you around, Peridan,” Edmund praised, raising his wine in salute.

Susan had to agree. It was very smart execution on his part. “Well done,” she added.

A snort came from the corner. “Yes, Peridan!” Ferrin exclaimed. “Let’s all praise Sir Peridan, savior of Narnia! Never mind those of us who walked straight into the hornets’ nest. And led the Calormenes away from the Narnian Camp.”

“Give it a rest, Ferrin,” Baris admonished from the opposite corner.

“Fine, I will,” Ferrin said and stood up. “Now, if you excuse me, I have had to relieve myself for hours. I feel as if I’ve been drinking all day long.”

Susan scowled at him. “You have been drinking all day long.”

“Whatever it took to get me through this day, your Majesty,” he acerbically clipped.

“You should have said something earlier—we could have stopped. What’s another half hour added to our journey, anyway?” she snapped back, raising to the challenge.

“And risk exposing my greatest asset to a lady such as yourself? I wouldn’t want you to faint at such a magnificent sight.”

“Good night, Ferrin,” Edmund ground out.

Ferrin grimaced, realizing he had been effectively excused from the rest of the discussion. He put down his emptied stew bowl and bowed an apology with a mumbled “Your Majesties.” Susan only acknowledged him with a steely look. Without another word, he spun on his heel and marched out the flap of Edmund’s tent, back into the rain.

She couldn’t help herself. “I hope your ‘greatest asset’ freezes off!” she called out after him.

Edmund’s brows rose to his hairline while Baris and Peridan both looked as if they wanted to apologize for Ferrin’s behavior. Susan shook her head at them. Really, she was more amused than anything. “I assure you all, I can hold my own.”

“That doesn’t give him a right, your Majesty,” Baris insisted.

Susan leaned back into her chair. “No, Baris, but sometimes it is rather refreshing to be treated as a normal human being.”

No one had anything to say to that, though Susan thought she saw Peridan send a look of sympathy her way.

Turvalin re-entered the tent to collect Peridan’s wet garments off the floor. “Will there be anything else, your Majesties?”

“No, thank you, Turvalin,” she said. “That should be all.” Once the satyr had once again exited, Susan turned to Peridan and her brother. “Were you two able to see, then? The elephant?”

“I did,” Edmund said and he lifted his thumb up to nervously chew on it. “It was awful, Su.”

She sighed. “I know. And that one was just for show,” Susan said. “Ferrin had questioned its strength as we were looking at it, but they assured us that they had several more at their disposal. And that since we needed a powerful one to help move lumber and stone, they could provide exactly what we required.”

“A new and improved model, then,” Baris scoffed.

Susan nodded. “Yes. Exactly.”

“That confirms it, then,” Edmund said. “It’s not just a stray elephant being kidnapped here or there. There’s an organized, illegal elephant trade happening right under Lune’s nose.”

“To be fair,” Susan said, “if you remember what I wrote to you from Anvard, they did go to Lune and ask to run a legal trade. Well, not so much in those words.”

Edmund nodded slowly as he nursed his goblet of wine.

“But there’s the possibility of an illegal horse trade, too, remember,” Peridan added. “From what we heard in Mittelward.”

Susan looked from him to Baris, whose bushy eyebrows perked high. She had forgotten all about that. “Yes, come to think of it, Baris and I heard rumor of that in Anvard, too.”

Edmund poured himself another glass of wine. “Did they mention or did you see any evidence that they were also dealing in horses as well, Su?”

“None,” Susan said with a shake of her head. “The horses they had there were very much Calormene. They didn’t even seem to even have enough to go around for every man at the camp.”

Baris snorted and crossed his hairy arms across his chest. “No, of course not. Why deal with horses when you can fit four men on an elephant?”

“That’s what it comes down to, doesn’t it?” Edmund said. “If this elephant market grew, they would have the ultimate war machines at their disposal. Great beasts that provide transportation and destruction.”

Susan felt her mouth go dry at such a horrible thought. She shook her head emphatically. “It’s possible, but they’re not quite as organized yet. They mentioned the backing of only one Tarkaan, and skirted around the issue of whether the Tisroc was aware of their actions. We may not have enough to work off of yet.”

“Yes, but let’s discuss the implications of us not doing anything. This…this disease for lack of a better term can quickly spread,” Peridan added, looking from one to the other, his voice slowly rising as he continued. “All they need is a few more financial backers, a few more elephants, and a Tarkaan or two with the guts to present this to any mad man of power, and an elephant army could be mobilized within a year.”

Peridan’s words sat with them a moment, as they all took in what it all meant. Such an army would cause immeasurable destruction. A slow, steady rumble of thunder sounded from outside. Susan cradled the bowl of stew in her hands, thankful for its heat, though it did little to warm the chill working its way up her spine.

“At least Lune is not a mad man,” Edmund finally said. “Considering we suggested Zanta and her Herd to nearly offer the same services to Archenland.”

He’s right. We did. Even if Zanta had agreed to such an arrangement, the trust that she had in King Lune reassured her. “But now we know the Narnian Elephants would never go for such a thing. Not even for Narnia,” she added.

“That’s good and all, but that won’t keep the Calormenes from the dumb elephants. The lesser herd,” Baris said, his ears drooping low in sadness. “They could still train them for war or for private enslavement.”

Peridan let out a humorless laugh and ran a hand through his damp hair. “And we all know there are many powerful men in Tashbaan willing to drop a few Crescents for one, and not just as a show piece, either,” he said with disgust.

Susan thought of the elephant the Calormenes had shown to her, and imagined the same sight multiplied by hundreds, all lined up in front of the Grand Palace of the Tisroc in the Calormene capital. We simply cannot let that happen. “Peridan is right. We have to put a stop to this now before it grows.”

Edmund set his goblet down heavily and stood up. “All right, everyone. Enough speculation. We need to focus on the facts, start from the beginning. First off, where exactly were we? In whose province do you estimate they were camped, Peridan?”

Peridan reached over to Edmund’s camp desk for a ledger and opened it up. After rifling through a few documents, he pulled out Edmund’s copy of the Archenland map. “The Darrinden border starts with the hills, but we were well far east of those. We have to have been in Dar’s province this entire time.”

Lord Dar. Of course. It always comes back to him. The image of the boring man and that useless, uncomfortable day of riding came to mind. Dar he no idea of anything happening in his own province. Susan thought of what little information she had gotten from the insufferable man. Not that I had much interaction with him to begin with. But not that I had tried, either….

Her heart skipped a beat in guilt. “Oh, Ed, I’m so sorry,” she said, her voice cracking.

Edmund frowned, and the other two turned to her in confusion. “Whatever for?” her brother asked.

“I…I should have known. I mean, I already did know how completely ineffectual Dar is. But it’s all coming into the light, isn’t it? Had I stayed longer, perhaps I could have done something about it, learned more…I don’t know. And Lord Cole had even warned me about him….” Susan held her hand to her brow and winced. That day would not have been so waste had she been smarter about things. “And Lune had asked me to fill him in on how things were, how much he would appreciate an outsider’s perspective, how he valued my opinion.…”

“It’s all right, Su, there really isn’t anything you could have done,” Edmund reassured. “Dar’s method of oblivious rule has carried on for a long time, otherwise none of this would be the problem it is today.”

“But don’t you see?” The others looked at her, with varying degrees of pity, but not necessarily of understanding. “Had I said one word of complaint against Dar, Lune would have sent his men in to survey the province and they could be the one dealing with this matter. And rightfully so! Or, had I just stayed longer and not have insisted on joining you, I may have been able to convince Dar into investigating what was going on…I can’t believe how stupid and selfish I’ve been.”

Edmund looked down at the ground after her admission and blinked a few times in thought. “Peridan, Baris, if I could have a moment with my sister,” he said without looking up.

“Yes, your Majesty.”

“Aye, sire.”

Susan could not muster up the courage to even look at Baris or Peridan as they exited outside where the rain had thankfully eased some. We could have avoided all of this….

“Susan?” her brother tentatively asked.

She shook her head in shame. “I’m sorry, Ed. I’m sorry for shirking on my responsibilities.”

Edmund pulled his chair out, straddling it to face her. “Su, you have no responsibilities on the actions of Lord Dar, Darrin, whomever. They are the ones who shirked on their duties.”

“But I had a responsibility to the Elephants. We both did and still do. Our Narnians, Ed,” she said, pointing at the ground between them. “And Dar doesn’t even care about them, even though they are located in his very own province! But I was more concerned in getting away from that man than learning what I could have from him. My pride got the best of me, and I allowed myself to be too sidetracked by my own ridiculous, fabricated excuse of a mission to do what I was supposed to do.”

Edmund’s half-glazed eyes were still discerning. “But it isn’t really fake, is it?” he carefully asked. “Queen Susan’s personal mission of courting the Lords of Archenland. It wasn’t just for Narnia, it’s also for yourself, isn’t it?”

Susan shook her head and slumped into her seat. Her brother voiced aloud what she had not been able to admit even to herself. “No. I mean, no, it wasn’t fake. Not in the slightest.” She took in a shuddering breath. After a very long day, this was a conversation she did not expect to have. Not tonight, not ever.

Edmund said nothing, allowing her to speak on her own time.

“I think deep down, I’ve been hoping, Ed,” she soft admitted, still not able to look her brother in the eye. So many unspoken hopes. Hoping to avoid being alone. Hoping to ease the concerns of the Narnians back home who wanted, needed a legacy. She did not say any of those things aloud, though. “It’s ridiculous. You know me, Edmund…it goes against everything I’ve ever believed. But, you never know….”

The rain outside picked up in pace again, and the downpour hammered on the roof of the tent. Susan closed her eyes and wished for the rain to wash all the thoughts and feelings away from her head and heart.

“I sympathize with you, your Majesty,” chimed a quiet voice from behind Edmund.

Susan looked up in surprise. So silent and still was the Bird perched on Edmund’s desk, that Susan had completely forgotten that Edmund had not dismissed Milletpeck with the others.

“I, too, hope to find my life-mate,” Milletpeck said. “Someday.” She ruffled a wing, obviously uncomfortable with her confession. “And I do not find that wish to be a selfish one.”

There was so much about Milletpeck that Susan did not know, and this was the most the Jackdaw had ever voluntarily revealed in front of her. Susan found herself not knowing how to respond. Perhaps we have more in common than I thought. Perhaps that’s why she and Edmund are so close.

The Bird dipped her head. “Your Majesties, if I may be excused?”

Susan finally found her voice. “Yes—yes, of course. Thank you for your service today.” She hoped the Bird did not feel embarrassed by her confession. Not as embarrassed as Susan felt, that is.

Edmund reached over from his seat to hold the tent flap open. “Goodnight, Milletpeck. Thank you for everything today,” he said, and she flew out without another word.

Susan looked down at the remains of her stew. Whatever appetite she may have had was lost, and the warmth the bowl had provided was no longer there. I just want this all to be over. “What do you think we should do, Edmund?” she finally asked. “King Lune has got to be made aware at some point.”

Edmund sighed heavily, taking the change of subject in stride. “I don’t agree with that. Not yet, at least. But I know what we’re dealing with is bigger in scope than we thought, now that we know one of the Tarkaans is involved.”

“Peter will not be pleased.”

“I’m not pleased,” Edmund said. He started pulling at the knotted lace of his shirt. “I have half a mind to march to Tashbaan right now and have a heated word with the Tisroc over tea.”

“A trip down there is definitely not possible. Not at this time of year.”

“No, of course, and not without sufficient evidence, either,” he wearily said. “Besides, I’d personally rather not travel into Calormen anytime soon. Tumnus says things are awfully testy lately between Narnia and the Tisroc.”

She nodded. That was a whole headache in itself, for though they were allies with the southern nation, relations could certainly use some improvement. And going down to Tashbaan with such an extreme accusation against one of the Tisroc’s Tarkaans would not be the wisest course of action. “We cannot approach this lightly, but we must do something. We had promised Durah, and then we had promised Zanta. And now we should do what we can to make up for everything Dar, Darrin, and anyone else has done. Or has not done, rather,” she corrected herself. And what I have or have not done, too.

“But what can we do? Visit the Calormenes in the morning and demand an audience with the Tarkaan they said was visiting?”

Susan stilled. “Yes. We do.” With Edmund’s look of skepticism, she repeated, “We do. Or I do, rather. The Queen Susan of Narnia can confront him, expressing our concern of the elephant black market we learned of while visiting Archenland.”

Edmund was still not convinced. “Need I remind you that you just came from there? Won’t they recognize you?”

“I don’t think so. The Calormenes we met with were the ones who accompanied us west. They mentioned returning to Calormen for awhile with plans of bringing up more men.”

“Oh, well, even more reason, if the organization is expanding as we speak!” Edmund sarcastically added, but she knew his attitude was merely due to the amount of wine he had consumed. Her brother shook his head in apology and sighed loudly. “But what do we tell this Tarkaan when he asks how Narnia found out about it? The elephant trade was almost harder to find than the Elephants themselves, so you coming across it by chance is not a very good excuse.”

She had to agree with her brother’s argument. How could we have learned about this? I’m only here for an official visit with Lord Dar—

“Lord Dar!”

Susan jumped slightly in her seat at Edmund’s outburst. It was rather unnerving to hear out loud the very name she was thinking, too. “What about him? He can’t help us, Edmund, he’s not even in Darden.”

“But no one knows that. And no one knows that Dar doesn’t know.”

She let out a small groan. “Now I’m getting all confused….”

Edmund sat up, his excitement growing. “All right, here’s the scenario. Lord Dar had learned about the Elephant trade going under his nose. To find out more of what was going on, he sent in two spies, a married couple, to find out the details. Once his suspicions were confirmed, he discussed his concern with Queen Susan who just happened to have been visiting—”

“—And Narnia certainly would not be pleased to learn that citizens of one of their allies is involved in nefarious activity within the country of another of their allies. Narnia would demand a stop to what was happening in the interest of all countries involved.”

“Exactly.” Edmund sat back, obviously pleased with himself. “I mean, it would be incredibly stupid to annoy Narnia. I heard their kings have wicked tempers, especially when innocents are being abused.”

She bit along the inside of her cheek. “It just might work, Edmund,” she mused. “But it would also help to know who exactly we’re dealing with.”

Edmund short-lived pride disappeared from his face, and he shook his head in dismay. “Yes. Well…that’s where the weakness lies in our plan. Had we known which Tarkaan was caught up in all of this, we would have consulted with Tumnus before we left.”

“Last I recall, there were sixteen of them to choose from.”

Edmund nodded. “Not counting the Grand Vizier, right? I want to say that’s the number, too,” he said. With an audible pop!, Edmund stretched out his bad leg to crack his knee joint. For some reason it didn’t bother Susan as much coming from her brother. “All right, maybe we are completely unprepared to do this. I can’t even name them all.” Edmund draped an arm over his eyes and cursed quietly to himself.

Her brother’s highs and lows whilst drinking could be awfully jarring at times. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. It doesn’t help that they keep usurping each other, Edmund. It’s difficult enough to keep track of the Archenlander Lords, and they only change over every generation,” Susan reassured, but didn’t feel any better herself about the situation. “I don’t suppose we could get a Bird to Narnia in time, can we?”

“Impossible. We’re talking three to four days turn around for any correspondence with Cair Paravel. And Tumnus leaves for the Waste at this time of year, remember? So that adds another day of turnaround.”

Oh, right. Tumnus always returned to prepare his home for the upcoming colder months. “Well, scratch that idea, then.” Not that it would have been practical to rely on a Bird to send along information on the Tarkaans of Calormen. All sixteen of them.

“Enough,” her brother said with a slap to his thigh. “I have all the faith we could pull this off, no matter who the Tarkaan we’re dealing with is,” he insisted. She looked up, and the belief of his statement was strong in his eyes. “But let’s discuss this in the morning. It’s rather late, it’s cold, we’re both tired—and I’m slightly drunk. We should think this through with clear heads,” Edmund said, and crossed over to collect Susan’s bowl from her and add it to the pile.

Susan stifled a yawn. “I’m getting delirious with this late of hour, too.”

If we could arrange a meeting with the Tarkaan in the next day or two, we could get this finished and be on our way back home. She thought about how long they had been at this, and how much distance they had already covered since they first left Narnia nearly three weeks prior. And Edmund was right, they could accomplish this one last thing. They had to.

“Edmund, with the whole Lord Dar ploy…this means that whole ordeal wasn’t in vain, then,” she said hopefully to Edmund. “This traipsing around to meet the eligible lords, and learning that they’re not all they’re cut up to be.”

“Of course it wasn’t. We are now able to use it to our advantage. We couldn’t have done this without you,” Edmund said warmly as he bent over to open his trunk.

Susan’s feelings of failure were slowly starting to dissolve. “When did things change?” she mused, looking up at her brother.

Edmund pulled out his journal from the trunk and started rifling through the pages. “What do you mean? When did what change?”

“You and I,” she said. “There’s a point where you went from the little brother I worried and fretted over to the strong protector that I now go to for support. Even when he’s drunk.”

Susan noticed Edmund get pensive for a moment before he looked back up. “Nothing’s changed, we just got older and came into ourselves. And now we make a pretty good team. That’s all it is.”

“Perhaps.”

Edmund slammed his journal back shut. “Don’t worry, Su. I can guarantee that there’s a part of me that’s still your bratty little brother who occasionally still needs fretting over. Especially when drunk.”

“I know.” And for that, she was grateful. Susan didn’t know what she would do if she had that taken away.

His face broke out into a wicked grin and he leaned over to give her a quick peck on top of her head. “I’ve been meaning to ask—how was married life? I would think that the day’s events would certainly turn you off of the idea.”

“Oh, don’t start….”

Any further discussion got cut off as Beaknocker unexpectedly flew in all flustered and landing directly on Edmund’s bed in a mess of dripping, disheveled feathers.

“I have a message for you, Queen Susan, from Obax,” he squawked, shaking the water from his wings. “He pleads for your mercy in helping him in escape! He begs you to do it soon before retaliation is taken!”

“Wait, wait, wait. Slow down and sit still, Beaknocker.” Edmund said, his voice thick with annoyance. Understandably, considering the Bird was dripping water all over his wool coverlet. “What’s this about retaliation?”

“And who in Aslan’s name is Obax?” Susan turned to exchange a look of confusion with Edmund.

“Obax!” Beaknocker repeated. “Obax, the enslaved Calormene Elephant, your Majesties!”

::x:x:x::
“Let our advance worrying become advance thinking and planning.” — Winston Churchill
::x:x:x:x:x:x:x::
Calormene Camp on the Winding Arrow River, Darden, Archenland. Thirdweek, September, 1010.
Susan, Day 24.

Susan was tired of all this travel at night. Unlike last time, though, tonight’s late visit to the Calormene camp was quite intentional. The party didn’t even leave camp until an hour before sunset, guaranteeing that their arrival would time out perfectly to way past twilight. But, at least it was not raining, even if the night air was brisk with the autumn chill.
Half way to their destination, Susan finally admitted it to herself—she felt thoroughly unnerved. She was not one for “winging it”—as they used to say back in England—and would have much preferred at least a few more days of preparation, of analyzing different scenarios, outcomes and consequences. Despite the nearly two days of planning, Susan still felt that she was walking in unprepared and blind. She was prepared to improvise some in Anvard and even during their first undercover meeting with the Calormenes in that seedy inn, even though that was not her style. At all.

Thankfully, it was the style of her companions. Though she didn’t voice her concerns or her anxiety to them, she just knew that she was radiating nervous energy in waves. If Ferrin and Peridan noticed, though, they didn’t say anything. And neither showed a hint of nervousness as they approached the Calormene encampment. They were completely used to waltzing into such confrontations. Susan used to think Edmund’s Company’s tactics as reckless. Now she realized that she could count on them always being more prepared than she was.

“I think I see lights up there,” Peridan said. He shot a quick glance to Ferrin. “Your Majesty,” he quickly added.

She squinted her eyes and looked ahead. A low glow in the south indicated that he was right, and as they got closer, so did the realization that the camp had grown in size. Considerably, too—the amount of tents had doubled from the evening before last. But not in battle formation. At least, not as Edmund described. Good.

As the group approached the encampment, Turvalin and two other armed Narnian soldiers fell back behind her, while Peridan and Ferrin rode in front to help mask and protect her, with Ferrin particularly keeping an eye out for anyone familiar looking from last time. The camp was so busy, though, with men all around in an organized chaos. There were triple the amount of horses from before, with the addition of carriages and even a lone camel. Susan doubted any of the Calormenes would even have the time to give them a second look over. There were a few that had showed some curiosity towards the arrival of the Narnian party, but she hoped they were more distracted by their fineries than the possibility that one of her escorts looked like the merchant that had visited the evening before last. And, of course, none looked at her directly in the eye, just as they hadn’t when she was in her Helen guise, either.

Several Calormene sentries met them, and two of them took the Narnian horses to where the Calormene ones and the camel were grazing. The tallest guard led the six of them towards one of the newer tents in a small group directly to the west of the one that Susan and Ferrin were in before. As they passed by the tent that had housed what they now knew was not just an elephant, but an Elephant, Susan had to force herself from taking a peek. She sent a silent plea to Aslan instead, and concentrated on the back of their guide’s head as they walked.

This new tent was heavily guarded, with two sentries on either side of the curtain, each holding a sharpened scimitar. But before he drew back the curtain, their guide raised up his hand and turned to face them. “I must ask you to remain here, your Majesty. His Excellency is finishing up some business, and will be able to see you shortly.”

The rudeness of being kept waiting aside, Susan was tempted to ask which “Excellency” they were expecting to see, but decided against it. The man gave a slight bow, then slipped through the opening of the curtain of the tent.

“Well, then,” she said. She could not help feeling affronted.

“Perhaps he has to make himself decent first, your Majesty,” Ferrin cracked. She turned to him and lifted an eyebrow at the comment, but didn’t admonish him. It was rather funny, after all. Ferrin’s mouth opened in a wide grin, but he remained standing still at attention, facing forward.

In the light of the lamps, she was again taken aback at the change in his appearance. Both Peridan and Ferrin were wearing their golden Narnian Patrol uniforms, their hair trimmed, their faces clean shaven. She had not realized that so many weeks of traveling on this mission had left them all…well, scruffy looking. Susan cold not recall the last time she had seen either of them as cleaned up as they were now. The King’s Patrol tended to get rather wild and loose when left to their own devices for too long, and she had grown accustomed to it. Of course, Ferrin had been complaining all day about his razor burn to anyone who would listen.

Susan fingered the ends of her own hair, let loose over her shoulders as she in turn had abandoned the Archenlander braids and returned to being Queen Susan. Looking down at the big curl she held, she was disappointed in the amount of split ends she found. She vowed to get it trimmed once they returned to Cair Paravel.

And make Edmund get one too, she thought. She had considered cutting the mop on his head herself this morning once she saw the considerable improvement of his friends’ appearances. But no, it was important that he remained incognito, especially since he and Baris had one last mission to accomplish that evening.

It was a chance, she knew, for Edmund to take Baris with him, for up until now, the faun had not been seen outside of camp or of the company of the Queen Susan. And now the Queen Susan was about to confront a Tarkaan and countless other Calormenes he had in support, without the comforting support of Baris or her brother.

At least I have Turvalin this time. She turned over her shoulder to look at where the strong, silent satyr stood, accompanied by two fauns sent over from the official Narnian Camp. Susan insisted on having as much of Narnia fully represented as she reasonably could. Edmund was not happy to leave their secret camp unattended, but at least Milletpeck, Beaknocker and the other Birds were patrolling it. There was little they could do for either Susan or Edmund this time around, anyway.

She gave all of those with her now a silent nod of thanks, and Peridan gave her a slight, reassuring wink in return. She returned with a soft smile, but she still felt uneasy. Enough of this. I cannot show any weakness.

“Peridan, Ferrin, I would like you to stick to my side,” she gently commanded. “The rest will stand guard, with Turvalin on the inside, while the others remain out here.” After the small chorus of affirmations, she added, “And keep your ears and eyes open. Everyone.”

There was a shuffle of movement from the other side of the curtain and some muffled voices. She leaned in slightly to catch what was being said.

“The Queen has been kept waiting long enough. Open the curtain and let her in.”

Susan straightened, allowing herself to close her eyes for a long moment. This was it. The curtain to the tent opened before her and there stood the Tarkaan.

Oh, thank you Aslan.

“Anradin Tarkaan! What a pleasure to meet you here,” Susan said in her most regal voice. She had to hide the relief—of the very few Tarkaans she was familiar with, he most definitely was one of them. He had been a part of the first Calormene delegation to Narnia a year after their coronation. That, and Tumnus had had extensive interactions with him on his numerous trips to Tashbaan. And it helped that he was probably the most recognizable Tarkaan known under the Calormen sun—the man’s turban was meticulously wrapped with a bright amber stone on his brow which made for an effective compliment to his distinctive crimson beard, for which he was most famous for.

And which she could currently take advantage of, too. “What a pleasure it must be to come to the home of your ancestor’s birth, if what I hear is true,” Susan added.

The man’s smile tightened as he led them into the warm tent. Two other Calormenes stood at attention on the other side of the ten, but Susan was relieved to not recognize either of them from the other evening. “You are not incorrect,” Anradin said. “A grandmother of mine was from this region.”

“Did you know her? Have you any distant family you visit with here?” she asked.

“No,” he bluntly replied. “She left her family when she was, ahhhh, quite young…and had my father soon after.”

A slave then, she bitterly thought. That confirmed her suspicions and the rumors that Tumnus had previously heard and shared—that Anradin’s grandmother was prized for her auburn hair and taken against her will to Tashbaan at the young age of fourteen. And that Anradin’s father was ridiculed for coming from tainted blood. Susan found pleasure knowing of the constant reminder he must face every time he looked in the mirror. The poor girl.

“And to answer everyone’s unasked question—Yes. My beard is red like the hair on my grandmother’s head,” he clarified. “Enhanced.”

“Unnatural,” Ferrin muttered under his breath by her ear as helped pull the cape off of her shoulders.

“To honor her and her sacrifices, I assume?” she asked the Tarkaan as he walked around to the opposite side of the tent’s rug.

Anradin turned and his frown was cold. “More so as a reminder—that anyone can be made slave. Even me. Only the powerful survive, your Majesty.”

Then he was definitely not above enslaving Elephants. Susan wondered if he knew how much he implicated himself with that statement and considered getting right to the point. No, not yet. It’s best to ease into things.

She waited until Ferrin and Peridan had handed off their outer garments and moved to stand slightly behind her. “Might I introduce the Sirs Peridan and Ferrin, both also of Archenlander birth,” she said, gesturing to them with one hand. Susan knew she was going to regret Ferrin’s impromptu promotion later. In her periphery, she noticed that he did stand a bit straighter.

“What? Have you no other native Narnians to accompany you?” he asked, pointedly ignoring Turvalin. The satyr was currently stationed just at the entrance of the tent, next to one of Anradin’s guards. He stood completely still at attention while the Calormene guard unabashedly stared at him.

“Peridan and Ferrin are both sworn protectors of Narnia. They cannot get more native nor Narnian than that.”

“Of course, your Majesty,” he said, his palms up in apology. “Please, have a seat.”

Anradin did not wait for her as he sat down first, crossing his legs on the far side of the rug, his two companions quickly joining him. As she eased herself down with a lending hand from Peridan, she noticed that the carpet was of much higher quality than the one she had sat on the previously. Everything in the new tent was of higher quality, from the lamps, to the brightly-dyed robes of the Calormenes, to the very tent itself.

Finally, there were all settled in—the three Calormenes on one side, with Susan sitting between Ferrin and Peridan on the other. She felt that they were evenly matched, though she felt the Narnians were at somewhat of a disadvantage with their backs to the curtain door. Edmund would have a fit.

Anradin cleared his throat before speaking. “I heard rumor of Narnian Royalty making a late season visit to Archenland, my fair Queen, though I am surprised to find one at my very doorstep. Your message requesting my audience was most unexpected. And unique in its delivery.”

‘Unique.’ That’s a good way to describe Beaknocker.

“Tell me, where are King Peter and the King Edmund? Will they be joining us this evening?” Anradin asked.

“I’m afraid not,” she answered. She wondered why he didn’t mention her sister. “The High King was caught up in the North prior to my departure and unable to join me on my journey here.” She decided to leave out any mention of Edmund. It was best not to implicate herself if Anradin somehow knew he was not currently in Narnia.

“And your other Royal Brother?”

Damn. Susan laughed lightly. “I left Narnia several weeks ago, so I have not been able to keep my usual tabs on King Edmund in and around Cair Paravel.”

“A shame,” he said with an apologetic smile. Her evasive answer seemed to work this time.

“It is. Though both of my brothers have had ample time to explore this beautiful country, I have not. I’ve greatly enjoyed my time here thus far, meeting the people and seeing the sights.”

Anradin briefly sized her up and his smile was that of a fox. “And seeing any perspective suitors, perchance?”

So, he’s heard that rumor, too. “Perchance,” she simply repeated.

“And is that the reason behind you gracing us with your presence? I’m sorry to say, your Majesty, that I am already married with three wives, though I’m sure I could squeeze one more—”

“That is not what brings me here, Anradin Tarkaan,” she interrupted him. She did not want to hear the remainder of that sentence.

“Then what does? Your Majesty,” he hastily added. Anradin looked up as a slave entered the tent, hunched over a tray holding a teapot and half a dozen cups and saucers. With a snap! of his fingers, the slave kneeled down and started serving the party. “It was quite a surprise to receive the message requesting, or, rather, demanding, my audience today.”

Susan knew he was playing dumb. She chanced a glance over to her right—Peridan’s glare towards their hosts was only mildly hostile. “I think we can cut the pretense, Tarkaan.”

“I know not to what you refer to,” he said with a wave to the slave.

She accepted the proffered cup of tea with a nod of thanks, but kept her eyes solidly on Anradin. “What can you tell me about the elephants?”

“Elephants, your Majesty? I have heard tell of these beasts. The rumors have certainly trickled down from Anvard, and how Lune has taken a certain fancy—“

The jasmine tea was still too hot and burned the top of her mouth, but she made sure not to flinch as she cut him off. “It is not the rumors from Anvard that concern me. It is the rumors from the neighboring villages that have come to our attention.”

Anradin slowly stroked his red beard. “And what is it that you have heard?”

“That you are dealing—selling and trading—elephants,” she said. “Archenlander elephants, to be specific, as if this was your land to buy and sell your slaves.”

“I don’t know where you would have heard such—“

“Oh? Shall I tell Lord Dar that his informants were wrong?” Susan said, her voice rising. “That two of his loyal citizens of Darden did not meet with your men to discuss the possibility of a purchase the evening before last?”

The Tarkaan’s eyes flicked over to the Calormene guard standing next to Turvalin at the entrance to the tent. From the Tarkaan’s reaction, he got the answer that he did not wish for.

“All right,” he acquiesced. “Maybe that is the case. What of it?”

She pursed her lips and set her cup and saucer down with a chink! “I hereby demand, on behalf of Lord Dar, that such operations cease and desist. Immediately.”

Anradin chuckled, giving permission to the men on either side of him to join in in condescending laughter. “High demands coming from someone who is on foreign soil themselves. As if this was your land to rule and order your citizens, as you would say, correct, your Majesty? There is no harm in what we do, and were this Calormen you would turn a blind eye towards these dumb beasts. I see no need to take this out of proportion.”

‘Dumb beasts.’ Thank you, Aslan.

Despite his accusation, Susan could tell that the man was getting nervous. He knew he was in the wrong, it was as straight-forward as that. Though he also had a valid point—Narnia had no jurisdiction over any part of Archenland. Susan had to use the only bargaining token she had. “You are most correct, Anradin,” she solemnly admitted. Before the man’s smile could grow any wider in satisfaction, she continued. “And I am willing to turn a blind eye, as you would say, and not inform King Lune of your dealings—”

“Thank you, my Queen—“

“—If and only if you put a stop to this illegal elephant trade. Immediately. If one word reaches Lord Dar, or any of the other Lords in this region, that you have not put a stop to your operation, I assure you, Lune will hear of this. And I can only imagine that entry into Archenland will never again be so easily achieved once that happens.”

Anradin slowly stroked his crimson beard, but did not say anything. The men on either side of him both shifted slightly in their seats.

“As an ally to Archenland and of Calormen,” she continued, “Narnia only wants the best for her neighbors. I suggest you go about the proper channels. Perhaps King Lune would be interested in opening negotiations of a proper, legal trade of Archenland’s commodities, including the elephants.” Of course, Susan knew Lune would agree to nothing of the sort, having turned down the offer not a month ago.

She could not tell, though, if Anradin believed her suggestion or not. Nevertheless, he stopped stroking his beard and said, “An interesting idea, your Majesty. I will consider it.”

Susan smiled. She reached for her cup of jasmine tea, and willed her hands to stop shaking as she eased it off the saucer and took an appreciative sip. “It is a pity, Tarkaan, that relations between our respective nations have not been as ideal as one would expect.”

“No, they have not,” he agreed. “Have you considered replacing your ambassador to Calormen? Perhaps with someone we can more…ahhhh, shall, I say, identify with,” he said with a smooth smile and a quick glance towards the entrance of the tent.

At last, he brings up the satyr in the room. “It is with my understanding that Tumnus is a formidable and effective representative of Narnia,” she carefully said. How I wish Baris was here now, she thought. “But if there are any concerns with how our ambassador is managing relations, I should hope that any concerns will be brought to Narnia by the Tisroc himself.”

“May he live forever,” Anradin added.

“Yes, of course, may he live forever.”

“And I shall pass that along, too, my Queen. But what of the Narnian Royals? As you have mentioned, your family has spent some considerable time here in Archenland, who you consider a close ally. But is Calormen not your ally as well?”

Susan sipped her tea as she contemplated an efficient answer to his question.

“On be half of the great Tisroc (may he live forever),” Anradin continued, his palm up in offering, “I do invite you to give Calormen the same attention. You should find it even more beautiful than Archenland has to offer, with many more glorious sights—from the shining, cerulean sea to the golden, singing sands of the Great Desert.”

Such beautiful speech. And it was not so much as an invitation as it was a bargaining chip. Susan was no fool. It was an offer she could not refuse, not that she remotely wanted to. What he said was true—they did owe Calormen, technically their ally, the same attention that Narnia bestowed on Archenland.

It had taken several years for her family to get established on their throne, to learn the customs of their own people. Once they did that, they slowly branched out to the outer areas of Narnian rule—the Lone Islands, Galma, Terebinthia, the Seven Isles. It was only just a few years ago that they were able to establish relationships in Archenland and the land of the Giants in the North, though one was more successful than the other. Calormen, just by chance and logistics, was one of the last countries they were able to establish diplomatic relations with.

If it were up to Peter, their relations with all countries would be better established and more stable than the currently were. But Susan had more patience in her little finger than her older brother had in his entire self. Their current methods were slow going, but they were, for the most part, working. But Peter believed the radius needed to be extended farther than just a lone ambassador and state visit for a week at a time within each country.

At Susan’s hesitancy at responding right away, Anradin leaned in closer and continued. “There are plenty of husbands to choose from there, your Majesty. Or perhaps a wife or two for the High King Peter?”

Oh, Peter would love that, she sarcastically thought. Ferrin coughed softly into his tight fist.

The smell of something cooking wafted into the tent—something spicy and delicious, Susan thought, as she realized how hungry she was after an anxiety-ridden day of barely eating anything—and it distracted her from his unwanted suggestion. “An official visit would be splendid, Tarkaan,” she said. “I am sorry to say that next summer is already accounted for, but I give you my word on behalf of my Royal Brothers and Sister that I will suggest the year after next.”

Anradin sat back, obviously pleased with her answer. “Then I shall relay the good news on to the Tisroc (may he live forever). But first, let me entice you with a sampling of what we have to offer.”

Panic set in as she hastily tried to interpret what his suggestive comment meant. Before Susan could say anything, Anradin gave another snap! over his head. The slave quickly scuttled in and stopped just inside the curtain, his face pointed down to the ground.

“You are hungry, yes, my Queen?” he asked. “Though I understand if it’s too late for you, I hope to convince you to accompany me in a traditional Calormene meal. In just three bites of our fine delicacies, I would not be surprised if next summer suddenly opens up for you to visit us in beautiful Tashbaan.”

Susan breathed easily once again. The more time she could buy Edmund, the better. Besides, the mouthwatering smells of cloves and ginger coming from outside was proving too much, and her stomach grumbled in anticipation. “I think that sounds marvelous, Anradin Tarkaan.”

With another snap!, the slave once again exited the tent retrieve delicacies fit for a Tarkaan and a Queen.

Peridan and Ferrin who also seemed pleased with the outcome of the evening, and both settled more into their cushions. Susan’s part was done, and as long as Edmund completed his half of the mission without incident, she would allow herself to enjoy the rest of the evening with an Elephantine weight off of her shoulders.

Lion guide you, Ed.

And they were all able to take some relative pleasure in the rest of the evening in relative ease—until the shouting from outside started.

::x:x:x::
“Keep five yards fro a carriage, ten yards from a horse, and a hundred yards from an elephant; but the distance one should keep from a wicked man cannot be measured.” — Indian Proverb
::x:x:x:x:x:x:x::
Calormene Camp on the Winding Arrow River, Darden, Archenland. Thirdweek, September, 1010.
Edmund, Day 24, Cont.

Edmund had no idea what it was to feel completely free. The thought came to him as he was approximately half-way up the cliff face. Or, what he thought was half-way—he could not tell how far up from the raging river’s edge he truly was in the dim light, nor could he tell how much farther he had to go before he reached for the top.
Still, he could remember down to the specific detail of the horrid conditions the imprisoned Elephant was in. His time of imprisonment, brief in comparison to others—none more than Milletpeck, for sure—still allowed him to empathize with those in similar experiences. And that was just his physical imprisonment. His endless mental imprisonment….

Now’s not the time, he chastised himself as his hand felt around for another handhold. But both he and Milletpeck agreed—this Elephant, Obax, physically had it worse than either of them had experienced.

Slipping his fingers into the crack, he tested the security of his hold by relinquishing his weight from his right foot. It was secure enough, and he hefted himself up to the ledge his right foot had already found.

Slow and steady. His thoughts wondered on what Peter would make of this situation. In all honesty, they should be lucky it was Edmund on this quest and not his brother. Even Peter had to admit that Edmund was the braver of the two, even though he hated to do so. Peter would not even dare to attempt such a climb without a rope. Despite the coldness of the night, he felt a trickle of sweat ease down his spine. Slow and steady.

“Everything all right, sire?” Edmund heard Baris whisper from above. “How are you managing?”

Edmund shot his friend an annoyed glare. The faun naturally excelled at such sport, and was currently balanced on a ledge that could not have been five inches deep, facing outwards towards the Winding Arrow—which was currently rushing higher faster than Edmund had ever seen, due to the recent rains. Baris casually wiped the dust from his hands and fur as he leaned slightly over to observe the progress of his King.

The absolute nerve of his competency.

“Jolly good, thank you. Cheers!” Edmund mocked in a quiet, good-natured tone. His left thigh was already cramping in protest, and the sweat was now dripping down into his eyes, obstructing what little vision he had. He couldn’t chance wiping with the handkerchief in his pocket, so he resorted to rubbing his forehead against his sleeve.

“Slow and steady, your Majesty,” came the whispered advice from above.

If Edmund chose to reply, he was sure it would not have been very polite. Instead, he gritted his teeth and eased his left foot up, rooting with the toe of his boot for another steady ledge as solid as the one he was on. He found it, and after climbing up that short distance, he was close enough to see the top of the cliff and that the slope was much easier the last remaining dozen feet or so.

He heard another cluh-clop! and knew his friend had made another effortless leap. Baris was already almost to the top. Edmund bit into his resolve and followed. Slow and steady.

Their entire journey thus far had been slow going, but they had planned for that. Susan had anticipated a good couple of hours of negotiation with the Calormenes, and both he and Baris had made excellent time in their travels to approach the tent from the south. Of course, since it was overlooking the river above a giant gorge, that required traveling along the narrow banks until coming directly below the encampment. It was an effective natural defense, one that Beaknocker had reported from his scouting mission that it was left completely unguarded due to the terrain. Only a lunatic would have approached from that side of camp.

Lunacy was nothing new to Edmund, for it was a word Lucy had often thrown towards his direction. He was starting to believe her.

However, Beaknocker was a little off in his estimations. The “couple dozens of feet” of cliff face was actually more along the lines of “several dozens of yards,” and when Edmund and Baris had finally arrived at the correct the location, he nearly called the entire mission off. It wasn’t as harrowing about a quarter of a mile to the west, he could see, but that would have completely defeated the purpose of taking advantage of the Calormene’s only weak spot.

“Perhaps we should schedule times to go climbing, sire. I’ve found it’s a useful skill to have, and I’d gladly teach you what I know,” Baris whispered from over the edge. He had already reached the top and held his hand down to help Edmund.

“I’m not too proud to turn that offer down,” Edmund grunted as his foot scrambled for one last hold before he reached for the faun’s proffered hand.

Edmund’s sword clanged against the rocks, and he panicked that it may have been heard from within the camp. Hopefully the loud rush of the river had buried the high pitched sound of metal against rock.

Baris’ strong grip helped immensely as Edmund was able to heave himself up and over the top of the cliff face. He did not allow himself much time to catch his breath before launching to his feet and take in his surroundings. The sight did not seem promising in the least. The Calormene camp was much bigger and more organized than before—the illegal elephant trade was evidently on the brink of booming. He hoped they were putting an end to it in time.

He also hoped his current mission was successful, because he hadn’t clearly thought of how they would get out of it if it all went to Tash. Glancing down the cliff face, barely seeing the glisten of the raging river from the narrow sliver of moon in the sky, he also hoped they wouldn’t have to escape the way they came.

Beaknocker was at least correct in his report of what to expect on this side of the camp. All Edmund could see were the backs of three groups of the tall, white octagonal Calormene tents. Their climb had deposited themselves on the western side, behind the group of tents to the left of the original grouping he had infiltrated two evenings before. And the Seagull was not exaggerating when he said there was little space in between the tents and the cliff itself.

He could hear some noises coming from, presumably, within the tents and farther in the encampment, but for the most part, the two of them were quite safe from detection. Still, they stayed down low and spoke at an absolute minimum.

“One grouping over, easternmost tent, closest to the cliff,” Edmund reminded Baris in a whisper, to which the faun nodded once in affirmation. Unfortunately, the Elephant’s tent was no longer on the edge of the encampment, what with the other new grouping of tents to the right of it. It’s going to be a tight squeeze to get him out.

The two slowly crept towards their destination, being especially careful when passing the spaces between tents. There was a close call as three men were seen in a heated discussion in the new alleyway between the two tent groups, but after a few minutes, the party had broken up. Having counted silently to one-hundred after the coast was clear, Baris led them quickly across. From there, it was slow going as they crept between the tents and the edge of the cliff.

Edmund wondered which tent his sister and the other members of his Company were currently in, and hoped it was far enough from where they were about to create their share of chaos. It would not be good if it was the same one from before. Best case scenario, they would be in one of the newer tents to the west that they had climbed up behind—far enough to not notice any complications on Edmund’s behalf, were that to happen. He shuddered at the thought of his sister at their mercy, but had faith in Susan and in both Peridan and Ferrin to make sure that they got out safely. And faith in Turvalin, too. After they achieve their own ends.

They finally arrived behind the Elephant’s tent. Baris leaned in to the canvas to listen. He shook his head. “I hear the Elephant breathing, and some jingling metal, but no sound of man within,” he whispered.

“Good,” Edmund mouthed. He quietly unsheathed his sword, though. Just in case.

The faun crouched down onto his haunches to peer around what corner the octagonal tent provided while Edmund stayed upright. This alleyway was completely clear. The only sign of life was the sentry twenty yards away at the front of the encampment lazily pacing back and forth. This is doable, Edmund thought while calculating the precise moment they should make their move.

Having worked together in similar conditions several times before, they didn’t need to confer. As the Calormen made one last pass, Edmund laid a hand on Baris’ hairy shoulder. Once the guard was clear, they made their move.

In mere seconds, they found themselves through the tent’s curtain and quietly catching their breaths as their eyes adjusted to the darkness within. The foulness of the tent’s air nearly took what little breath Edmund had away.

“Obax?” Edmund whispered.

“Who’s there?” a soft voice called from the dark.

“Peace, friend, my name is Edmund,” he said. “We’re answering your call you sent with the Gull.”

The Elephant’s relief was evident in his voice. “King Edmund! Aslan be praised!”

“Sshhhh,” Baris said. “Obax, is there a lantern in here?”

“There should be one to the right of the entrance. Behind you.”

Baris went to retrieve and light the lantern, while Edmund put away his sword. “Are you well, Obax? Do you think you can manage an escape?” He could barely make out giant, dark silhouette before him.

“I know I can, your Majesty.”

Suddenly, the room was bathed in a low, warm light as Baris successfully got the lantern lit and turned back around.

“Atalan’s Rings,” Baris quietly swore in dismay at the sight. The Elephant’s limp ears twitched slightly in response.

Edmund had forgotten that Baris had not known what to expect. He hadn’t been able to bring himself to describe the conditions to his friend, for he feared that ever-looming threat of panic spiraling out of control. As it was, Edmund had to force down the anger he felt at once again seeing the Elephant in such conditions. And with most of the jewels and bells removed, exposing more of the sagging, scarred, pale skin and overall malnourishment, Obax looked more abysmal than he had before.

It finally set in how stupid Edmund had been to have assumed wrongly the other day. Of course a Bull Elephant would be as large as normal elephant. I should have paid more attention to Lucy’s messages. Despite the intimidating size, Edmund doubted the Elephant even had the strength to get through a rescue and a trip to the camp. But they had to try regardless.

“Were you expecting us?” Baris asked.

“Expecting? No. But I was hoping.”

“Rest easy, my friend, as we get you out of this,” Edmund reassured.

“Thank you. Your Majesty,” Obax added, his gravelly voice thick with emotion.

Edmund nodded and swallowed heavily. He turned to Baris. “All right. Undo as many chains and decorations as you can, then stand guard at the door. I’ll get the ropes.”

“Aye, sire.”

They made quick work. Edmund set about cutting the thick ropes around the perimeter, the stench of the tent making his eyes water. He was disgusted by how tight Obax’s legs were wrapped, digging into the tough skin beneath, and the tautness of the rope to the stakes. He mentally kicked himself for not bringing Skarpur—damned the risk of exposure—which was normally sharpened to split a hair. The best he could do was hack and saw at the ropes as quiet and fast as he could and carefully step around the scat that littered the entire tent floor. It was not easy work.

Baris leapt up and pulled off the remaining coin headdress, carefully catching it in his hands and muffling the noisy piece in his fur before stashing in one of the corners. Once that was done, he started to cut through Obax’ gilded leather harness.

“Oh no….”

Edmund had just started sawing his way through the ropes attached to the Elephant’s third leg when he stopped and looked up at Obax. “What’s the matter?” And then he knew. “What’s all that noise?” he whispered, eyes open in panic.

Voices from outside increased in volume, as if a group of men were dispersing from somewhere else and were headed their way. Were they all meeting with Susan?

Baris leapt to the north side and tilted an ear against the cloth wall of the tent. After a few seconds, he turned back and said, “Dinner hour must be over. There’s a bunch of men on the move, and they’re all discussing how good the venison is at this time of year. How do you suppose we get out now?”

“Don’t worry about that now, just help me with these last ropes,” Edmund urgently commanded. He crouched down and started hacking, grunting with the exertion.

“Quickly,” the Elephant muttered, fraught with worry. Baris laid a reassuring hand on his trunk and crossed to Obax’ right hind leg.

Finally, the last bit of hemp fiber of Edmund’s last rope snapped. He sheathed his sword and wiped his hands on his leather vest as he made his way to the tent’s entrance. “I’ll check outside,” he called back to Baris.

“All right…I’m…almost done….” the faun grunted, his face in a grimace as he fought against the resistance of the rope.

Edmund slowly eased the curtain back and peered through the gap. At the angle the tent’s entrance was facing, he couldn’t see much more than the entrance to the tent across the way. Against his better judgement, he slipped through to the outside to get a better look.

The encampment was definitely much busier than when they arrived. Men were meandering this way and that, in no particular pattern. Laughing, drinking, some were singing. They were relaxing after the meal at the end of the day by coming out to play.

This is no good.

Edmund stood quietly in the shadows as his mind raced with different ideas on how to sneak an Elephant by them all without being seen.

He wasn’t there for more than a few seconds without catching the attention of three of the soldiers. One pointed directly at him as the other two started yelling, pulling out their scimitars.

Damn it all to Tash!

Edmund scuttled backwards into the tent, landing heavily on his backside in a pile of rejected slop. “They’re coming. We’ve got to move. Now!” he shout-whispered as he stood back up.

Baris quickly put away his sword, grabbed a hold of the rope around Obax’ neck and started leading him through the tent’s entrance. Edmund shoved him roughly back in the chest.

“No! No! Not this way, you can’t be seen!” Edmund yelled, hoping the shouting men outside were able to drown him out.

Baris looked around the tent frantically, as if he expected another exit to appear out of nowhere. Finally, he whipped his short sword out again from his waist and tore through the southern tent wall facing the cliff. He slipped out without another word and did a blind leap up and over the cliff’s edge.

Edmund quickly turned to Obax. “Time to go, my friend. Are you ready?”

“Yes. Get on my back!” Obax said, holding out his trunk.

At that moment, the Elephant’s handler came rushing through the curtain, getting momentarily caught up in the heavy fabric before slashing his way free with his scimitar.

Edmund stepped on the tip of the trunk and grabbed at a tusk stump for balance as Obax began his charge. When the handler advanced, Edmund kicked his foot out, hitting the Calormene squarely in the face with the sole of his boot. The man yelled as he tumbled back into the oncoming rush of guards.

The tent came crashing down around them as Obax pushed his way through the curtain and into the fresh air, while Edmund tucked himself into the side of the Elephant’s neck for protection. The Calormenes that did not leap out of the way in time found themselves trampled, for Obax was showing no mercy in his escape. They forged their way through the camp, with remnants of the destroyed tent tangled around Obax hind feet that in turned took out two guards as it whipped them in the shins.

When they cleared the line of tents, Obax catapulted Edmund up and onto his back with his surprisingly strong trunk. Edmund managed to grab hold around the Elephant’s neck before toppling over to the other side of the raging Beast. Obax shook the remaining tattered canvas off his hind foot, and with a loud, deafening trumpet, he crashed through the last line of Calormenes and out into the open fields to the north.

As Obax bounded forward, Edmund turned around to witness the chaos in their wake. Dozens of men raced around on the eastern edge of the camp, shouting and screaming orders. Some were trying to get their horses—and a camel—under control for a chase, while others tripped over those that had fallen during the rush. None, though, were in pursuit. Edmund faced forward again, relieved to not see Susan or his friends involved in the mix. As he tightened his knees around Obax back, he let out an exhilarated bout of laughter and brandished his sword high up in there air—though at this point, it was just for show. They were safe.

With the sound of angry Calormenes quickly fading behind them, Edmund finally got to ride his Elephant as they charged north, into the night.

::x:x:x::
“When you have got an elephant by the hind legs and he is trying to run away, it’s best to let him run.” — Abraham Lincoln
::x:x:x:x:x:x:x::


Map | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6

Comments

[autumnia]

Oh, that poor Elephant! For all the ornaments the Calormenes had put on the Creature, it does nothing to hide the horrible condition they kept it in. If this is what has been happening to all the missing Elephants, it's no wonder that the Herd do not want to leave the non-talking herds to fend for themselves.

(And speaking of missing Elephants, was there a point to the missing horses that were mentioned earlier in Anvard and in the taverns? A red herring perhaps, or maybe I'll find my answer once I get to the end of this story?) Ahh... never mind, I need only have to read further down to learn about the horses! :-)

Also, where IS Beaknocker anyway? And of course that too gets answered later on in this chapter. At least his disappearance was not in vain! I thought perhaps that was where he stayed and it's great that he managed to be quiet and in hiding the entire time.

It was very fortunate for Susan that the Tarkaan turned out to be one she was familiar with! And how interesting it is to learn he has Archenlandish blood in him (what a neat way to explain his crimson beard and tie that into the story).

The whole Elephant ride I think made up for all the miseries that Edmund felt during this entire adventure. :-)

[snitchnipped]

Yes! The horses are somewhat relevant... so happy that it stuck with you! Of course, this is all to tie things together with Bree and HHB!

Oh, did I struggle with writing the Tarkaan! Anything Calormene is my weak point, and it was a struggle to pick one from HHB. And I didn't pick up that his beard was dyed... I thought it was natural until a beta pointed out that it wasn't. But then his background story came out of the justification and I got to play up the theme of slavery. Happy accident!

[rthstewart]

Susan, oh Susan. you and your guilt. Kudos to Edmund for helping her see that.

Oh MY. Poor poor Obax. This was so sad and terrible.

The whole escape and negotiation were THRILLING. Susan's negotiations with Anradin (love the slave parts) were wonderful -- yes politics, politics, but also WAR and plotting. The whole idea of using the elephants as war machines is, well, terrifying.

Then we have the tense, nerve-racking effort of Edmund and Baris which was wonderfully written.

In all the thrill of the evocatively written camp, I don't want to lose the really lovely moments with a sort of drunk Edmund and Susan and how nicely they communicated and understood each other. That was so nice to read.

Milletpeck is brilliant. She is just a wonderful, wonderful character. I love her relationship with Edmund, her wisdom and how she really manages to comfort Susan. She plays into my competence kink as well.

I feel badly that Edmund gets his wish to ride an elephant in such a spectacular and sad way.

I can't help thinking too, of course, that Anradin trades not only in talking elephants but talking horses as well as Bree ends up in his ownership.

Wonderful chapter!

[snitchnipped]

That scene between Susan and Edmund was HAAARRRD. So may plot holes kept popping up and it took everything to patch them up! It all seemed to come together in the end, though, which (happily) made the scene with Lord Dar all the more significant. There was a loud "whew!" on my part once that was fixed!

And... uh... I made myself cry picturing Obax. That's good for a writer, right?

We spoke of Milletpeck already. She's just... she's just special. She's the wise person in the room that everyone ceases talking to hear. Or makes sure she's got a place to sit, enough food to eat, are you comfortable? and the like. We all know someone like that.

DING DING DING! You are correct re: Anradin and Bree! Which is why I chose him and realized "Oh crap, there needs to be mention of horses at this time... oh crap, this is about when Bree was kidnapped, too!" Happy accident. The story was blessedly riddled with them.