The sun had just risen when Prince Caspian followed Ina out of the cottage.
Caspian, he reminded himself. Just Caspian. In one night, he had lost his title, his home and those he considered family. The grief had hit him like a blow last night, when he sat alone near the fireplace to rest and keep warm. But Caspian will not think about that now.
He looked back at the cottage one last time. If he hadn't been searching for it, he would've missed the door, so well-camouflaged into the large tree trunk as it was. Beside it stood a small wooden shed, where Ina's steed rested. She murmured a quick goodbye to the horse, rare affection softening her features. Beyond her, Caspian saw the glint of a few blades—swords and daggers of all kinds hung on racks in the shed. He wondered how the Narnians had acquired them.
As they began their march deeper into what Ina called the Shuddering Woods, Caspian found himself drinking in the sights and sounds of the forest eagerly. Details that he hadn't noticed in the dark of night jumped out at him now—the skittering of lizards across tree barks, the constant drone of insects, the oddly pleasant smell of soil and rotting leaves. The woods seemed like a living, breathing being, and Caspian couldn't help but feel a sense of wrongness, as if he were trespassing on someone else's property. But when he looked over at Ina, he saw that she was completely at ease, no trace of fear clouding her features. Caspian was not surprised—she had spent most of her life here, after all.
"So, about that long story," he began, hoping to pry some answers out of Ina. She had been dodging his questions in favour of sleep last night; now she would have no excuse. "We have plenty of time now."
She glanced sidelong at him, smirking. Her bronze skin glistened in the light of high summer, and Caspian saw that her hair was beginning to curl wildly in the heat, loose strands sticking stubbornly out of her braid. He felt a drop of sweat roll down the side of his face, too. The forest canopy may provide some shelter, but it certainly didn't help with the heat.
"What would you like to know?" she asked.
The words rolled off his tongue quickly. "How did you come to live with the Narnians?"
"My father used to work as a blacksmith in Telmar. But then he became a drunk, lost his job, and couldn't pay for the house. When we got evicted..." She inhaled and bit her lip. "He left. I've never seen him since."
Caspian knew better than to ask about her mother. He, too, had lost both his parents. "Was there nowhere in Telmar for you to go?"
"Where else could I have gone?" There was a hint of bitterness in her voice. "I was eight, I couldn't get a job, and I didn't want to go to the orphanage," she said, matter-of-fact. "Thought I'd try my luck out here, since I had nothing left to lose."
A surge of pity for young Ina rose in his heart. "Were you not afraid? I mean, you were only eight."
She flashed a crooked grin at him. "Were you?"
"Well, not really. But that was different. You were there."
Ina raised her eyebrows consideringly. "So I was."
Caspian continued his prodding, his curiosity unsatiated. "How did the Narnians react to you?"
"Well, there were a lot of discussions, many of which I was not invited to. Long story short, Trufflehunter agreed to take care of me, but the Narnians decided that I should leave when I turn sixteen," she shrugged.
"Which is...?
"Next year."
"Ah. So that's why you need the gold."
Ina glared dryly. "Oh, please. My situation is nowhere near as dire as yours."
"I won't deny that." He dragged out a sigh. "At least you don't have a murderous uncle on your tail."
"Did his... betrayal... shock you?"
Caspian noted with a strange sort of warmth that Ina was choosing her words carefully, afraid of upsetting him. "Not really," he said. "My professor has always warned me about him. I was more shocked when I discovered that Narnians were real."
"And your professor, was he the one who told you about Narnia?"
Ina's words were a stab of fear to Caspian's heart. She was right, but for some deep, ingrained fear within himself, he couldn't tell her that. Because back in Telmar, that would mean a death sentence for his professor.
And so, he changed the subject, forcing out, "We're being followed."
Ina had noticed his unease, but she was gracious enough not to mention it. "I know," she said. "I've known since we left the house."
Then she turned around. "You can come out now."
Trufflehunter and Nikabrik stepped out from their hiding places, with the badger looking sheepish and the dwarf scowling. Caspian noticed that he was always scowling.
Ina looked like she was fighting down a laugh. "You could've just said you wanted to come along."
"I just think that we should wait for the kings and queens," Trufflehunter insisted, glaring.
Caspian had lost count of the number of times they'd had this conversation. He sighed, spun around, and continued his march.
"Fine! Go then!" Trufflehunter called after him. "See if the others will be as understanding."
"Or maybe I'll come with you," Nikabrik said mildly. "I want to see you explain things to the minotaurs."
At this, Caspian slowed. "Minotaurs? They're real?"
"And very bad-tempered," Trufflehunter put in.
"Not to mention big," said Nikabrik. "Huge."
"They're not very good at gambling, though," Ina remarked, trudging ahead. "Always losing their bets."
The other three followed. "Or maybe the game was rigged," Caspian simpered. Ina's eyes flashed at the implication.
"What about centaurs?" he continued. "Do they still exist?"
"Now the centaurs will probably fight on your side," Trufflehunter said. "But there's no telling what the others would do."
A name flashed through Caspian's mind, one that he never uttered since the day he learned of it, and never forgot. "What about Aslan?"
His companions stopped mid-stride and shared a hesitant glance. "How do you know so much about us?" Nikabrik asked with a flinty gaze.
But Caspian was spared the need to answer, because just then, an arrow whistled past his head, narrowly missing its target, and buried itself into a tree trunk beside him.
"Run!" he gasped. The others didn't need to be told.
A line of Telmarine foot soldiers gave chase from behind, each armed with crossbows and swords. Immediately, bolts began flying through the air, zipping past the four with deadly speed. Caspian and Ina soon realised that the Narnians were lagging, being smaller in size than the humans. At this rate, the guards would surely catch up. That is, if they weren't shot to death already.
"Go!" Ina yelled at Caspian, drawing her sword. "I'll deal with them."
"No! It's me they want, not you!"
"Which is why you should be running!"
A horrible cry of pain reached Caspian's ears. Trufflehunter tumbled through the foliage, an arrow protruding from his side. Ina was already running towards him, horror bleeding across her face.
"Take him and go, Ina," Caspian shouted, standing his ground to face the soldiers. "NOW!"
"No!" Trufflehunter pressed a white object into Ina's hands. Queen Susan's horn. "Take it! It's more important than I am."
"Don't be a fool." Ina lifted the badger in her arms and tossed the horn to Caspian. He caught it with mild surprise. "I'm not leaving you."
They bolted a short distance before catching up with Nikabrik. All the while, the soldiers' yells rang through the air, ruining the solemn stillness of the forest. Bolts soared past them; Caspian was certain that one would strike him soon. Yet he did not look back.
"Get him out of here," Ina hissed, lowering Trufflehunter into the dwarf's arms. And then she turned, throwing knife in hand. She would fight with him. Gratitude rushed through Caspian.
Ina let the knife fly.
But the blade did not find its target, and sunk into a tree trunk instead. The soldier for whom the knife was intended had fallen to the floor in a heartbeat, vanishing amongst the thick foliage. His cries of shock were silenced abruptly. Someone, or something, must've pulled him down. And not for the first time since yesterday, Caspian felt true fear breed in his chest.
He saw that Ina was afraid, too, but the girl kept hurling her knives, and a few soldiers fell victim to her blades. And yet, more of them were being cut down by that same unknown something. Caspian felt his mouth go dry. He would've fought the soldiers bravely enough, but an unseen foe was not one he was prepared for.
"AHH!"
A large, white net sprang from the ground, closing in around Ina and hauling her upwards. A trap.
"Ina!" Caspian hurried forward to cut her loose. But he didn't make it two steps before something pounced and knocked him to the ground.
"Choose your last words carefully, Telmarine!" a voice snarled.
It took him a few moments to register the bizarre sight before him. A small creature was standing on his chest, its fur golden-brown, face adorned with fine, white whiskers. A mouse, he realised belatedly. That is, if mice wore feathers on their heads and wielded swords.
There was only so much of Narnia that Caspian could take in at once. Talking mice with blades were simply too much for him. "You are a mouse," he said stupidly.
The mouse cast him a withered look. "I was hoping for something a little more original," he sighed. Then he commanded, "Pick up your sword."
"Uh..." Caspian hesitated. "No, thanks."
"Pick it up!" the mouse demanded angrily. "I will not fight an unarmed man."
"Which is why I might live longer if I choose not to cross blades with you, noble mouse."
Ina's said from somewhere above them, "Wise choice, Caspian!"
"Ina!" the mouse gasped in shock. Oh good, Caspian thought, they're friends. Maybe she can convince him not to kill me. "What are you doing up there?"
"The view." Ina's voice was rich with sarcasm. "You should see it from up here. It's beautiful."
"Were you with the Telmarines?" the mouse whirled, whiskers twitching in fury.
"Reepicheep!" a voice interrupted. Caspian craned his neck to look—it was Trufflehunter, carried by Nikabrik. "Stay your blade!"
"Trufflehunter!" The mouse—Reepicheep—looked bewildered. "I trust you have a good reason for this untimely interruption."
"He doesn't," Nikabrik said curtly. "Go ahead."
"He's the one who blew the horn!"
That stopped Reepicheep short. "What?"
"Then let him bring it forward," said another voice, this one deep and velvety like midnight. "For this is the reason we have gathered." Caspian could not see the owner, but his voice indicated no small amount of regality and honor.
When he finally managed to climb to his feet, Caspian found his breath stolen by the sight before him. Five centaurs, each a majestic display of dark skin and broad shoulders towered over him, wielding longswords of lustrous metal. But their eyes—their eyes were what drew his attention immediately. They were a medley of royal gold and emerald green, ancient and ageless at the same time. They spoke of the wisdom of centuries, of which Caspian could never dream to fathom.
"Are you in need of aid, young one?"
Caspian turned and saw that a centaur was standing below the trap that held Ina, gazing up at her with genuine concern. Ina, he thought with a pang of guilt. He had forgotten about her after his encounter with Reepicheep and the centaurs.
Ina nodded rigidly, intimidated. It was clear she would never dare gamble with the centaurs.
The centaur—this one with brilliant red hair—swung her sword at the trap's tether, and Ina came tumbling down in a tangle of rope. She struggled for a moment before the centaur unravelled the knots, then heaved her neatly onto her back in one swift motion.
"Thank you," Ina said timidly. Somehow this struck Caspian as a more unusual sight than the Narnians before him.
"Son of Adam."
Another centaur—the one who first spoke—approached Caspian. His eyes fixed on the horn hanging from his waist. "Bring forth the horn of Queen Susan the Gentle."
Caspian did as he was told. The centaur examined the relic with the same timeless eyes, before conceding a nod to the rest of his companions.
"We shall discuss this further at the Dancing Lawn," he said with a tone of finality.
"The... Dancing Lawn?"
"You shall see." The centaur gestured for Caspian to follow him.
"We have been awaiting you, Caspian the Tenth."