LOWBORN : Edmund Pevensie

30

The Teebeth army has arrived in Narnia. The grounds, both at and around the castle, are filled with tents. The fields are dedicated to training where people aren't sleeping, and all the spare rooms in the castle are filled with the important men of the army. Generals, heroes. Common footsoldiers and knights.

It is easier for me to sneak about with so many men milling around the castle. I spend days with Evangeline and Lucy in the library. The two seem closer than ever. They curl up next to each other tightly. It is getting colder, but it is not winter yet. My birthday will come before the first snow falls. It always has come first.

One day, I follow them outside for training. I am not really involved. It's more of an activity than a necessity. I won't follow the others into battle. Unless I become particularly excellent, which I doubt I will. Some women just are not made for battle, and while the Narnian royals are, Evangeline and myself are not.

However, I find myself as her sparring partner today. We both use small, delicate swords and swipe at each other with less accuracy than children while they play fight. We have been old for quite some time now.

"Evangeline," I say, my helmet moving on my head. It is not fitted to me properly, and so it jiggles, often getting in the way of my vision, "this is hopeless."

"It is not," she says.

She swipes at me again, hitting the cloth atop my uniform. It does not nearly even slice through it; the material is rather thick and Evangeline's strokes rather soft.

"We should get Edmund or Peter to help us," I tell her.

"We need no one's guidance," she points out. She swipes at me again and I dodge out of the way.

I lift my sword back up and our swords begin to clash aimlessly. Every stroke monotonous and superfluous. My arm grows tired before hers does. It seems that days in the fields have served to strengthen her more than me, for the first time in our lives.

Her blonde hair is beginning to grow back, but it remains copper-red throughout most of it. Of course, you cannot tell with the helmet on. She looks so different from the princess I previously knew. I wonder, with her darker hair, if we look more or less like sisters. She looks more like her mother, and I look more like mine.

I shan't tell her, of course.

I come out of my thoughts to notice that a few of the Teebethes have gathered nearby and are pointing and laughing at us. Evangeline picks up in speed. It frustrates me because I would much rather stop, but of course, she does not dare face the humiliation. She goes to hit me, but I block and block and block. Our moves are slow, and they ought to be slowing, and they would if it weren't for their laughter. It causes a scowl to grow across her face.

"Excuse me!" Evangeline finally exclaims, turning to face the knights. She takes off her helmet. "Are you here to train or to laugh?"

I take off my helmet as well, looking over at them.

They all continue laughing, but one, who is staring at me. He nudges his compatriots with his elbow. Then, he rubs his chin, his hands tracing along the edges of his brown beard. He stares at me, eyes widen.

"Forgive us," he says, cutting across the laughter. They slip into silence as he speaks. "We assumed you were men."

"Well, your assumption was wrong," Evangeline continues. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch her staring at me and then at the man.