𝑵𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒂: 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑮𝒐𝒍𝒅𝒆𝒏 𝑨𝒈𝒆 𝑩𝒐𝒐𝒌 𝑰 (Narnia fanfic)

Part 10 |THE BATTLE OF BERUNA|

We cross the Great River and arrive at the battlefield of Beruna before the Witch. On our way there, a raven delivers a letter from my brother, informing me they should be arriving soon. I give Peter the good news, however, he decides we should not rely on them, for the battle may commence before they arrive. If they get here before the witch, then great, but if not, we'll have to handle them ourselves.

Once at Beruna the army positions itself on the slope. We leave Edmund at the top of the hill where he will lead the archers. He gives Peter brief words of encouragement and we wish each other good luck before we head down to the soldiers. 

I follow Peter close behind and we position ourselves at the head of the army, on top of a small rock formation so that see what's coming: Peter in the middle, me to his right, and Oreius to his left.

A gryphon heads out to scout the witch's position and I wait impatiently for his return. We know she has many forces with her, but so far, no one has seen the size of her army. The gryphon returns after what feels like a long while, circling above us before landing next to me and approaching Peter.

"They come, Your Highness. In numbers and weapons far greater than our own," He says agitatedly. 

Peter turns to look at Oreius. "Numbers do not win a battle," the centaurs says calmly. 

"No. But I bet they help," Peter says. 

Well, you're not wrong there Peter. Soon after we hear the blow of an unfamiliar horn and a black minotaur appears on the horizon, and behind him, the Witch's army follows.

Their numbers are indeed greater than ours. Three, maybe four to one. It will be a fierce battle. There are giants and minotaurs, goblins and hogs, black dwarves and felines, cyclopes, werewolves, and all sorts of evil, nasty-looking creatures. And at the centre of them all, leading the way, rides the White Bitch herself on an iron chariot being pulled by huge polar bears. I pity those bears.

I place my helmet on, not having done so before because of how hot it can get in it, and watch as the army approaches until they come to a sudden stop. 

I see as Peter turns to give his brother one last look before the battle begins and I decide to turn around too. He is easy to stop because of his shiny silver armour and the bright red and gold coat of arms he bears on his chest. He should be alright so long as he stays up there. 

I face the enemy again and see as Peter unsheathes his sword. Soon enough the sound of blades being unsheathed fills my ears until it is upstaged by the sound of one of our horns being blown and cheers from our troops. I take my sword out and try to calm my jittering nerves by thinking about how my brother might arrive any minute now. This is the worst part, the calm before the storm. These endless minutes of anxious awaiting before the slaughter commences. Once the battle begins there won't be time to worry, but right now the possibility of dying plagues my mind yet again. 

The black minotaur, the one who stands next to the Witch, emits a bellow of rage and so gives the order for them to attack. A horde of thousands of evil Narnians start their run towards us. The ones who worry me the most are the minotaurs and the giants, both very strong. I might be able to handle a minotaur or two if I am quick, but giants are a tricky business. Hopefully, these are the stupid sort. 

Once the enemy is close enough, Peter signals the gryphons to unleash their attack. I look up to the skies and watch as dozens of them fly towards the enemy to unleash a rain of boulders upon them. 

"Ready?" Peter asks me looking nothing like the scared boy who came t our camp and more like the king we will become if we manage to defeat the witch.