Prince Caspian

Chapter 7

The Pevensies, Caspian, Trumpkin, and Glenstorm are gathered at the Stone Table to discuss the layout of the land and the best routes for Lucy to travel until Aslan either starts leading her or she finds Him. They had just drawn a general map when a centaur rushes in and informs them that Miraz's army was coming from the trees. They rush to a balcony to see for themselves and find an army made of at least eight battalions emerging from the tree line with six trebuchets and six ballistae.

"We only got two ballistae and one trebuchet." Edmund mutters. Peter turns to Trumpkin and Lucy.

"Get familiar with that map and leave, quickly, before they trap us in." They nod and hurry off. "Come, we must prepare!" Peter calls to the gathered Narnians and everyone rushes back into the How.

--------------

"We need to hold them off until Lucy comes back." Peter says. "Or, at least give her enough time to get away."

"Do you think she will run?" The Professor asks, but Edmund shakes his head.

"No, but we are hoping that if we are to die, she will at least be safe. Aslan won't lead her to her death; out of all of us she loved Him the most, and He won't betray that lightly."

Caspian gasps in sudden shock and turns to Peter. "I can't believe I didn't think of this earlier, but as King, Miraz is held to the traditions of his people."

"They're yours, too, do not forsake them." Peter looks Caspian in the eyes, and Caspian nods his acceptance.

"Our people. If challenged by another King, he will have to fight a one-on-one battle that will determine the outcome of the war. It kept armies intact for the winner to take, rather than remnants."

Peter nods, "That could work, but will he still treat with us after our raid?"

Caspian frowns. "Maybe not, but if you meet between our armies rather than go to the commanders' tent, there is a greater chance of survival."

"Very well. I'll take-"

"Absolutely not." Susan interjects.

"I will go." Edmund agrees. Peter can't help but roll his eyes.

"It was one time."

"One time too many. I will read a letter that Susan and I approve of, but you will not be there."

"Very well. Will someone fetch some olive branches while we write a missive?"

--------------

The Telmarine soldiers can be heard calling out to their leaders as Edmund, Glenstorm, and Wimbleweather approach, stopping halfway between the How and the tree line which the Telmarines had retreated into after their show of strength. They aren't waiting long before Miraz rides out with the other Lords and his General to meet with them.

"Have you come to surrender?" One of the lords calls out.

"No." Edmund says, not looking away from Miraz.

"Then why are you here?" The King asks.

"I bring a missive from High King Peter for you." He pulls out a scroll and opens it. "'I, Peter, by the gift of Aslan, by election and by conquest, High King of Narnia, Lord of Cair Paravel and Emperor of the Lone Islands, in order to prevent the abominable effusion of blood, do hereby challenge the usurper Miraz to single combat upon the field of battle. The fight shall be to the death. The reward shall be total surrender.'" Edmund holds eye contact with Miraz before he rolls up the scroll.

"Tell me, Prince Edmund-"

"King." Edmund doesn't look up to see the shocked indignation on the Telmarines' faces as he finishes rolling the scroll.

"Pardon me?"

"It's King Edmund, actually. Just King, Peter is High King." He smirks slightly. "I know, it's confusing." Miraz looks around at a bit of a loss before gathering his wits.

"Why would we risk such a proposal when our armies could wipe you out by nightfall?"

"Haven't you already underestimated our numbers?" Edmund chides lightly. "After all, only a little while ago Narnians were 'extinct'."

"And so, you will be again." Miraz stares at Edmund with an indescribable expression.

"Then you should have little to fear." Edmund shrugs. Miraz laughs.

"This is not a question of bravery."

"Ah, so you're bravely refusing to fight a swordsman half your age. Very well-"

"I didn't say I refused." Miraz snaps.

"You shall have our support Your Majesty." One of the Lords speaks up. "Whatever your decision."

The Lord to Miraz's right chimes in as well. "Sire, our military advantage alone provides the perfect excuse to avoid what might otherwise be-" Miraz's face darkens in rage and he grips his sword hilt warningly.

"I'm not avoiding anything!"

The Lord backs his horse away slightly. "I was merely pointing out that my Lord is well within his rights to refuse, especially after they went on a killing spree in our camp the other night."

The General speaks up from Miraz's left. "His Majesty would never refuse. He relishes the chance to show the people the courage of their new king." Miraz stares at his General, who looks between Miraz and the Lord. Edmunds gaze never wavers from Miraz and he stands calmly, even as his companions shift uneasily.

"You." Miraz jerks his head at Edmund. "You should hope your brother's sword is sharper than his pen." The Telmarines turn and trot their horses back into the trees, missing Edmund sharp smile.