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THE GREAT Lion looks like he's leaped straight from the pages of my old books, with a coat spun from gold and a mane so magnificent as the sun. He's everything I've read about and everything I've always wanted to believe was real — all that Lucy promised he'd be.
Whispers of his name float along the mouths of the Narnians, telling of hope and deliverance and lighting a fire in my heart.
Aslan turns his head to Lucy, with no need to look up or down upon her. For his height matches the young queen at his side. The Telmarines do not dare advance. Even without knowing who exactly they face, the weight of his power on the wind is enough for them to realize his strength.
Lord Sopespian weighs his options: facing a girl and a lion, or the Narnian army again. I'm not surprised when he draws his sword, lifts it to the sky, and shouts for his men to charge. The soldiers echo his war cry and follow him across the bridge with their weapons raised. Those who can't fit on the bridge wade through the river, desperate to escape the Narnians emerging from the woods.
My stomach fills with nerves as they bear down on Lucy Pevensie. I tighten my grip on my sword and watch anxiously as Aslan seems to draw himself even taller, an incredible roar exploding from his maw. The force of it tears the air from my throat and sends small waves across the river's surface.
Sopespian halts the charge halfway across the wooden bridge, staring in fear at the mystical Lion and his gleaming, ivory fangs.
Aslan steps back as a sound like thunder descends from upriver, the water receding upriver to form large, crashing waves. It builds taller and heavier as it moves further down the river, nearing the bridge and the Telmarines all around it. The soldiers in the water begin to panic and Sopespian resumes his attempt to cross the bridge when the wave, against gravity and all logic, explodes upward with a mighty splash and forms what appears to be a man. A god made of frothing, moving water and taller than the trees; summoned by Aslan himself.
The river surges forward, sending water cascading up the shore and soaking through my boots. But all I can do is stare in awe and disbelief. It peers its head over the bridge, watching as the Telmarines leap off into the river, screaming in terror. The roar of the moving water as it continually retains the god's form is almost loud enough to drown their cries.
The river god seems to wait a moment for the soldiers to decide their own fate, then it reaches forward with hands of shifting blue water and dives straight through the bridge. The wooden boards creak and splinter, the entire bridge with Telmarines still upon it lifting from the river bed. With it on his back, the rive god stands to his full height once again, tearing away the middle section with Sopespian and his horse and lifting it into the air. Those still in the water make for safety as quick as they can.
The Telmarine lord looks incredibly small and helpless held before the might of the moving river, brought forth by the Lion's will. Sopespian screams and swings his sword as the god rears forward and swallows him whole, crashing downward upon the remainder of the bridge.
