Wandering Child ➳ Caspian X

prologue.

☾ ☽

The only thing that outweighed Lord Miraz's lust for blood was his yearning for the crown which laid on his brother's head. He was never going to be king unless Caspian IX's heart stopped beating. All he needed was an opportune time to make that happen. But the new king's death so shortly after that of the eighth Caspian would surely cause suspicions to arise, and so Miraz planned his brother's death in secret for the first three years of his reign, gradually persuading a general and another lord that already disliked the new king to his side.

The very evening Miraz was to carry out his plan to murder his brother, Caspian IX and Alura announced that she was with child and the land of Telmar was to have a new prince or princess soon. As congratulations and gifts poured in from not only those in Telmar but also those from the neighboring countries of Narnia, Archenland, and Calormen, Miraz had no choice but to temporarily put to rest his plans until he knew the sex of the child. If it were a girl, she wouldn't ascend to the throne upon her father's death. But if it were a boy, he would, no matter how old he was. He needed to know if there was going to be yet another person standing in the way of the crown he coveted.

A few months later, and after a very long labor, Telmar welcomed a new prince—named after his father, the tenth of his name. Caspian X was the joy of his parents' life, but a bane to Miraz's. Just looking at the infant's face infuriated him, knowing that unless he killed this child as well as his father that the wretched being would take the crown from him. But he couldn't bring himself to smother the infant just days after his birth. He put it off.

Days turned to weeks and weeks to years, and in the time his brother ruled, he fine-tuned his plan, making sure every t was crossed and every i was dotted. Every possible fallout and problem he found a solution for. If the Telmarines revolted, he'd use captured traitors as examples. If the queen survived and told the truth of what happened, he would convince the court that she was clearly suffering from delusions and have her locked in an asylum. He just needed to make sure Caspians IX and X died.

The one thing he didn't count on was the prince's professor, a short and stout man by the name of Cornelius. Cornelius was a wise man who had traveled across the land many times, collecting books and artifacts from every country and village he'd visited—although, he'd admit the artifacts he collected were mostly just rocks taken from streams, to see how different the geology of each area was. The professor had always suspected that Miraz wanted the throne and that he would do anything to take it, even if that meant killing his own brother. He warned the king about his suspicions of his brother's plans, but the ninth dismissed it, foolishly believing that Miraz would never try to kill him.

Cornelius kept his ear to the ground as the days that led to the prince's eleventh birthday began to speed up. If he couldn't save the King, despite many occurrences of trying to convince him to take precautions, he would at least try to save the prince. He was only eleven; he had his whole life ahead of him. Telmar would not fare well under Miraz's rule. Over time, he became sure that Miraz would strike the night of Caspian's birthday, and so when the day come, Cornelius watched Lord Miraz, General Glozelle, and Lord Sopsepian with a careful eye. Not one of them came near any of the royal family for anything other than wishing the prince a happy birthday.

But that night, when the moon had risen, Cornelius heard heavy footsteps outside his study. He wasn't far from the bedroom of the king and queen—they were two corridors away—and he stood from his desk and carefully opened the door without making a sound. Miraz was leading the general and the lord, and as they took a right to the king and queen's room, Cornelius' face paled. It was already late; the couple inside was surely asleep. If he tried to stop them now from murdering the king and queen, he would die as well, and then there would be no one to protect Prince Caspian X. Quiet as a mouse, he left his study and turn a left turn to the prince's quarters.

The boy, newly eleven, was sound asleep in his bed. Cornelius leaned over him, gently shaking him awake. Caspian mumbled something unintelligible, and then he opened his eyes just a little and said, "Five more minutes."

He thought Cornelius was there to take him to a late night astronomy lesson, as he so often did. Cornelius wished he was. "You won't be watching the stars tonight, my Prince," he said regretfully. "We must hurry, quickly—"

"Why? What's going on?"

Bluntness appeared to be the only way to go. Cornelius informed solemnly, "I believe your uncle has murdered your parents this night. I'm sorry, my Prince." It sent Caspian into a state of shock and he immediately sat up, staring at him. Cornelius grabbed his arm and ushered him out of the bed, wanting to get the prince out of his room before Miraz finished his evil deeds. "He's coming to kill you next—he wants the throne you'll inherit. I know a secret passageway to the stables. But you must listen to me, Prince Caspian. Your life has changed this night."

Caspian followed every word of Cornelius' instructions. He followed him through the back of the wardrobe in his quarters, where it turned out to be a false back that led through to a stone staircase. The staircase led to the stables, like he said, and his professor helped him onto his horse. Caspian looked over him, expecting him to take another horse and accompany him to wherever he was going. But Cornelius just stood idle. "Professor, what are you doing? They could come any second!"

"I'm afraid this is as far as I go, child," Cornelius said. Caspian shook his head, holding tighter onto Destrier's reins. "There's a river between here and the woods. You must cross over the bridge and keep going north. They won't follow you there. Don't stop for anything."

"But what about you?"

"If I've saved you, I've done my duty. Find passage to Narnia. Aslan will help you."

"Will I ever see you again?"

"Someday, I hope. Until then... stay safe, my Prince. Now, go."

Caspian pulled on Destrier's reins, and off the horse went. He glanced back at his professor one final time before laying his eyes on the landscape. Find the river, he told himself over and over, and after fifteen minutes or so, he finally came across it. But just when he had, he heard the shouts of soldiers behind him. How did they find him? The sound of them startled him so much that he nearly fell off his horse, but he forged ahead, running Destrier onto the bridge.

Something pierced his arm, and he barely noticed that it was an arrow until he lost his balance on the horse. He fell off, rolling onto the wooden logs that made the bridge, and before he knew it, he had fallen into the river. The currents were too strong for him to swim to the surface, and by the time the Telmarines reached the bridge and saw the horse running into the woods without a ride on its back, Caspian X was gone.

"He must be in the river," said Glozelle, who was leading the charge to find and kill the boy. "There's no use in going any further. He drowned. His body will have swept out to the sea by morning light."

"Are you sure, General?" Sopsepian inquired. "It's dark. He could be caught on a rock—"

"And if so, he will have drowned. He never was a fair swimmer. The King, the Queen, and the Prince are all dead. Lord Miraz will take his rightful place on the throne, and all will be well in Telmar."