The tradition

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Cakes and kettledrums.  That's your next big plan?"  Trumpkin asked.  "Sending a little girl into the darkest parts of the forest?  Alone!"

"It's our only chance."  Peter retorted.

"And she won't be alone."  Susan informed.  We were all back inside the tomb, discussing our next move.  Trumpkin approached the girls.

"Haven't-haven't enough of us died already?"  He asked softly.

"Nikabrik was my friend, too.  But he lost hope.  Queen Lucy hasn't.  And neither have I."  Trufflehunter spoke.  Edmund sat next to him, arms resting on his legs.  I was looking at Edmund, when his eyes met mine.  I quickly brought my eyes up to Caspian and Peter, my cheeks turning a soft shade of pink.

"For Aslan."  Reepicheep spoke, drawing his sword.

"For Aslan."  A big brown bear spoke.  I smiled.  I really wanted to give him a hug.  He looked so soft.

"Then I'm going with you."  Trumpkin told Lucy.

"No.  We need you here."  She said, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"We have to hold them off until Lucy and Susan get back."  Peter announced.

"If I may."  Caspian said.  Everyone turned to him.  He was sitting on a couple steps, the Professor next to him.  Caspian stood, walking forward.

"Miraz may be a tyrant and a murderer," he started, "but as a King, he is subject to the traditions and expectations of his people."

I smiled as my eyes widened.

"There is one in particular that may buy us some time."  He spoke.

"What a great idea, Caspian!"  I exclaimed, walking forward.

"What's the tradition?"  Peter asked.

"The leader from each opposing side meet together to duel."  I started.

"One on one, no backups."  Caspian added.

"They fight to the death."  I informed.

"Whomever dies, his army now surrenders, as it is the tradition."  Caspian finished.  Everyone sat in silence for a moment.

"How do we start?"  Peter asked.

This is a short chapter, sorry!

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