Daughter of Nowhere || A Narnia (Prince Caspian) Story

5: Thieves By Night

Ina wondered if the Narnians would harp at her if she took up any of the beautiful weapons in the How, which was a high-ceilinged cavern that served as the Narnians' headquarters. She tested the waters by prodding a spear once, then picking up a single arrow from a quiver, before finally lifting an entire longbow into her arms and notching the arrow.

The Narnians milled about without even a glance in her direction, busy with their own errands, now that they had a Telmarine king to overthrow. It seemed that their loyalty to Caspian had meant a stamp of approval on Ina herself, and she was rather pleased about that.

They hadn't been quite so approving before the prince arrived, though. Every time she had snuck into Aslan's How, the Narnians would tell her off and steer her away from the weapons, partly because she was a girl, but mostly, Ina suspected, because she was a Telmarine.

Yet that did not stop Ina. She kept returning to the How, and over time, the Narnians let her stay, albeit begrudgingly. Some of the kinder ones, like Kerissa the faun, had even obliged to her requests for a duel. Ina knew they'd probably grown tired of chasing her out, but she liked to think it was her charm that had softened their hearts.

She drew the bowstring back now, taking aim at the target board in the far corner. Her arms quivered as she did, and when she released the arrow, she was dismayed to find that it hadn't even struck the board.

"I do hope you have another weapon of choice," said a voice from behind, startling Ina. She turned to find a centaur standing before her, long locks of crimson hair cascading around an ebony face with high cheekbones. The centaur's plate armour was simple, leaving her arms bare, and Ina knew that strength thrummed beneath those muscular limbs. Where her torso ended, long horse's legs covered in sleek fur began. Ina was stunned by her beauty, but she recognised the centaur immediately: she was the one who had helped her out of the trap.

"It would not do well for you to go to war with a shot like that," the centaur continued with a light smile.

"No," said Ina, unsure if she should add "my lady" behind that sentence, for the centaurs had always carried themselves with such regal poise that it made her feel inferior. "I prefer throwing knives."

The centaur smiled again. "Will you show me?"

Beaming, Ina swiped a knife from her belt and flung it at the target, the motion so familiar to her after years of doing the same in the cottage's yard, beside Trumpkin. She felt a rush of satisfaction when it lodged right in the center of the board.

"Impressive." The centaur's ethereal eyes glittered. She motioned for the bow and Ina gave it to her. "The key to shooting," she said, retrieving a sack of sand that Ina had seen the archers throw into the air before piercing it with an arrow, "is to breathe. Look at your target, not the arrowhead."

Ina breathed a soft gasp of awe when the centaur moved with unearthly grace, spearing the sand pack mid-air with her own arrow. Amused by Ina's gaping, the centaur said, "Zenya is my name. And yours?"

"Ina," she answered before adding, "I don't think I've seen you before, my la—Zenya."

"No, you would not have. My people and I live in the lands far north; the sounding of Her Majesty Queen Susan's horn has beckoned us."

Ina was thrilled to hear about these Northern lands, and yearned to ask Zenya more about them, but a voice interrupted her before she could speak.

"Ina! Zenya!" Trufflehunter padded over to them. "Caspian wants to see you," he said, pointing to a corner where the prince and a few Narnians were huddled.

As they approached, Ina could hear Caspian saying, "The archers would be posted around the camp, and the weapons tent...here." His hand came to rest at a point on the table, and Ina saw that it was a map model built from wooden blocks, twigs and stones.