Accidentally Falling | Narnia

48 | strategies

Caspian walked into the White Witch's ruined yet crowded throne room. Jadis' subjects made an aisle for him as he made his way to the dais where her ruined throne stood.

At the foot of the steps leading to the dais, there was an ice casket with its lid thrown open. A circle was drawn on the ground surrounding it. Outside the circle, three hags stood. One of them was cradling Jadis' broken wand with utmost care. Their eyes were following him as he made his way to the casket.

Caspian shed his white tunic and stepped inside the circle, his thoughts as empty as it was when he first arrived at the ruined castle after he left Cair Paravel. With barely any walls and ceilings, it was freezing cold but he barely felt it.

"Rally all our forces," he spoke, turning his head slightly to the right to where the General of the Witch's army stood. His voice nearly a whisper yet it seemed that all the Witch's subjects heard it all the way to the last creature standing by the collapsed front doors of the castle. "When I wake up, we're at war."

The General, a Minotaur, grunted his answer: "At once, Your Highness."

Whether he called him that because he was a King of Narnia or he was Jadis' son, Caspian no longer had the mind to wonder.

Caspian climbed into the ice casket and laid down. Whether it was cold or not, he couldn't tell. He barely even heard the chantings of the hags and the rest of the Witch's minions as he climbed inside. A hag closed the lid.

And it was then that all came rushing back to his head.

Narnia. Cair Paravel. Peter. Susan.

Aslan.

Aslan, I'm sorry.

But he knew it was already too late. His hands were tied. His blood had been claimed. His life had been forfeited.

And when he'd wake up, he would be no longer in control of his own body.

He heard a loud crack on the ground outside his casket. Like a spear being strucked on a cemented floor.

Caspian closed his eyes.

***

"The Witch's army has left her castle, Your Majesty." Mr. Tumnus said. "The Minotaurs, ogres, hags, specters... all of them."

Peter didn't answer. He continued to stare at the map of Narnia laid in front of him, his knuckles white against the table.

He had convened a gathering in the council room. The General of the Narnian army, the centaur Oreius, was there as well as his second-in-command, another centaur named Glenstorm. They stood on the either side of the door, their horsetails occasionally swishing back and forth behind them. Trumpkin, the leader of the Dwarves and his second-in-command, Nikabrik were also present. Both of them were sitting on the high backed chairs opposite to Peter.

Mr. Tumnus was on Peter's left while Edmund was on his right. Peter had half the mind not to let Edmund join the gathering. Partly because he was still awfully too young to fight in a war and partly because he didn't want Susan mad at him.

But who was he kidding? Edmund had easily become one of his skilled fighters. And with Caspian gone (his chest clenched at that) he needed someone to be his partner.

And I've trained him well, he thought.

"How many?" Edmund asked.

"Thousands? Ten thousands? We aren't sure, Your Highness. But their numbers have multiplied since we've last faced them." Mr. Tumnus replied.