Anger, Sorrow, and Temptation.
If Caspain had one wish, it would to have turned back time and to never have blown the horn. He had called the kings and queens to help them, not to get half of their army killed.
"What happened?" Queen Lucy asked in a strained voice as the small group of surviving Narnians slowly walked towards the Howe.
The high king's head glanced up at his sister's words.
"Ask him!" he said angrily, directing his head toward Caspian.
Caspian looked up in shock and anger. Now he was blaming him for it?!
"Peter!" Caspian heard Queen Susan say, but paid no attention to it. He was going to have it out now!
"Me? You could have called it off, there was still time!"
"No there wasn't thanks to you," King Peter replied, his voice shaking. "If you had kept to the plan, those soldiers might be alive right now."
"And if you had just stayed here like I had suggested they definitely would be," Caspian shot back, his anger burning.
"You called us, remember?"
Caspian narrowed his eyes.
"My first mistake."
"No. Your first mistake was thinking you could lead these people." The words from King Peter's mouth were cold and hard as he turned to walk towards the Howe.
But Caspian was far from finished.
"Hey!" he shouted, grabbing King Peter's shoulder and turning him around to look him in the face. "I am not the one who abandoned Narnia."
King Peter's face went white, and Caspian knew that he had struck a nerve. Whether that was good or bad, he wasn't sure.
"You invaded Narnia," the high king said, his throat tight. "You have no more right leading than Miraz does."
Now Caspian was really mad, and he was not willing to hear anymore insults. This so called "High" king had mocked him long enough. He brush passed his shoulder and went angrily towards the Howe.
"You, him, your father! Narnia's better off without the lot of you."
Everything suddenly went blank. That remark about his father was going too far. Caspian lost his control. Grasping his sword, he lifted it and screamed. The high king grabbed his sword, and the two pointed them menacingly at each other.
Then, all of a sudden, a voice shouted;
"Stop it!" and a sword crashed down in between the two, making them both let go of their swords. They both turned to the source of the sword and the voice, and Caspian gasped.
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Peter's eyes went wide with horror as he saw the condition Miranda was in. Dried blood had caked onto her clothes from both of her wounds. Her hair had become undone and now fell down over her shoulders. Her face was streaked with dust and dirt, and her clothes were torn and cut up into near shreds. Her quiver was empty, save for the bow, and she held her sword in her right hand.
But to look into her eyes was the worst. A vat of darkness and fatigue, filled with sadness and pain.
"Stop acting like children!" she continued, her voice strained. "Can you not see that this is both of yours fault?"
Both Peter and Caspian looked to each other like they had been punched in the stomach.
Miranda first looked towards Caspian.
"You said that you would be at the gate. When you said that, you gave us your word, and we trusted you to do as you said. You jeopardized the whole mission when you didn't do as you told us you would. We were found out too soon, because of you. A true King of Narnia would have kept his word."
Caspian's face went pale, but he kept silent.
Then Miranda turned towards him.
"Why didn't you call it off? We had enough time to get out of there. Narnians died because we did not get out of there when we could. Why didn't you?"
Peter was silent. What could he tell her? That he wanted things back the way they were before?
Miranda's eyes suddenly went wide.
"You didn't call it off because you are the high king, and you thought that you could do it?! ON YOUR OWN?!!!" Miranda's voice had risen, and tears began streaking down her cheeks. "When did this all become about you? When did it all become you on your own? We all used to do this together. And we did it with Aslan at our head."
Miranda stopped for a moment, her chest heaving and the tears running faster; and Peter's gaze fell down to the ground. She knew him all too well. Yes, he admitted it. He had done it for himself. Just for once this time he wanted things to go his way, the way they used to. But it was that thinking that led Narnians to die last night. The tears that he had been fighting off now ran down his face. His face looked up to Miranda, and her hazel eyes were cold.
"The high king of Narnia would not have done that. Because of your pride and arrogance," she then turned to Caspian, "And your incompetence, Narnia lost many people. People who were fighting for their freedom."
She turned to the Howe, but then she stopped, and looked Peter in the eye.
"Never have I been ashamed to call myself the Warrior of Narnia; until now."
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Edmund watched both Caspian and Miranda closely as they went into the Howe. Both of their shoulders were tense, but Edmund noticed that as soon Peter turned around, Miranda's shoulders slumped, then shook. Edmund had a feeling that something had gone terribly wrong.
"Go follow her Ed," he heard Lucy say beside him, putting some cordial into the wounded Trumpkin's mouth.
Edmund whipped his head to look his sister in the eye.
"How did...?"
"I know that face Ed. You go to Miranda. I'll see if I can talk to Peter when I'm done here. And I'll tell the professor that he should talk with Caspian."
Edmund gave his sister a smile.
"Thanks Lu," he said, then turned around and ran into the Howe.
He found Miranda in the exact place he thought he would. In front of a painting of Aslan, her sword stabbed to the ground.
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All Miranda had to do was close her eyes and she saw them again. Every face full of pain and fear
looking up at her as the griffon carried her off. She should have been there with them, but she wasn't. She let the tears fall freely as she mourned the loss of the Narnians.
She tensed when she heard footsteps behind her.
"Miranda," a voice whispered, and she relaxed as she recognized Edmund's voice.
"Forgive me Edmund," she began. "It's just….."
"No Miranda. It should be Peter apologizing to you. I came because I thought that something was wrong. Are you alright?"
Miranda turned her body towards her friend.
"No Edmund. No, I'm not."
Edmund reached down and slowly began to wipe the tears off of her face.
"I had a feeling you weren't," he replied. Then looked her up and down
"We should get you to a healer, and then get you cleaned up. You are an absolute mess."
The two shared a soft laugh. Then, silence and grief clouding them, the two headed toward the medical wing.
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Edmund looked Miranda up and down again as he helped a satyr bandage Miranda's wounds. Something wasn't right about the way she looked. Her wounds were more numerous than the rest of them, and her eyes looked more forlorn. A sudden thought came to him.
"You were trapped with the rest of the Narnians, weren't you?"
"Yes Edmund. The gate closed before I could get out."
Edmund thought for a moment, then said;
"How did you get out?"
"I didn't."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean that it was not by anything I did that I got out. A griffon suddenly came down and carried me away."
Edmund noticed that Miranda's voice had become strained, and that she was fighting back more tears.
"What happened Miranda? And this time, tell me the whole thing."
Miranda was quiet for a few moments, as if trying to find her bearings.
"I didn't want to leave them Edmund. When the griffon began to take me away, I shouted for him to take me back down to the others; that I wasn't going to just leave them behind. But it was too late. They were all already dead. And I couldn't do anything about it."
Edmund didn't say anything else. He knew what she was thinking; that she shouldn't have made it out of the castle. She didn't think that she had done enough to help them, to try and save them. In her eyes, she had failed Narnia.
After Miranda's wounds were cleaned, she went to another room to change her clothes and wash her face and hair. But when she stepped out again, the look hadn't left her. Finally, Edmund spoke.
"You can't expect to save all of them Miranda. You just can't. It isn't possible."
"I know Edmund. I know," Miranda answered in a tired voice. Then her eyes took a puzzled expression, and she looked over at Edmund. "Do you feel something strange?"
Edmund suddenly felt as if an icy hand were clutching his stomach.
"Ow," he shouted as his hand went towards the pain. Then he realized the place he had touched.
"Ow," Miranda shrieked, clutching her arm. Edmund's eyes went wide as he noticed the exact spot where she held her arm.
Miranda's eyes looked up at him with fear.
"It's her!"
Without a moment's hesitation, the two grabbed their swords and headed for the source of the cold.
They headed towards the Stone Table.
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Miranda's arm was stinging with pain where the White Witch had wounded her so many years before. She stole a glance at Edmund. His face was deathly white, and his hand went back to his stomach.
They ran as fast as they could towards the Stone Table, and stopped dead in their tracks. The first thing they saw was the White Witch, trapped within an icy column. The second thing that they noticed was a hag and a werewolf; and Nikabrik! The third thing was Caspian, holding up a bleeding hand to the Witch as if in a trance.
"No!!!" Edmund shouted, and the two ran headlong into the room.
Miranda went charging up towards Caspian, but she suddenly felt a body shove her side and she fell over.
"I don't think so," the high, wheezy voice of the hag leered over her, holding a knife. Suddenly, Peter's face came into view, and he flung his sword at the hag. The hag saw it coming, and blocked with her knife just in time.
Miranda slowly came up, slightly dazed. The werewolf was chasing Edmund up to a ledge. But just as the werewolf pounced, Edmund turned and thrust his sword up, killing the beast. Miranda's eyes searched for Nikabrik. Lucy had him in a tight hold with her knife, keeping him from harming the dwarf, Trumpkin. But suddenly, he grabbed her arm and threw her to the ground. Thinking fast, Miranda reached back for her bow and….
"Shoot! I didn't get them!" her thoughts shouted.
Taking her knife from its sheath, she threw it towards Trumpkin. It landed just beside him, and he killed Nikabrik before he could do anything more to Lucy.
Peter now threw the hag over to the side. The hag hit a stone wall, and Miranda came up and dug her sword into its middle, making sure it was dead.
"Get away from him," Peter shouted to the Witch as he pushed Caspian to the side. Miranda's gaze ran over to Peter. He held his sword threateningly at the Witch, his eyes angry and hateful. The Witch drew back for just a second.
"Peter dear," the Witch cooed, "It's been so long. I've missed you."
Miranda watched Peter's face change into confusion.
"Come on Peter! Finish it!"
"Come on," she said sweetly. "Just one drop. You know you can't do this on your own."
Peter's face softened, then took on the glaze-like look that Caspian had had just moments before.
"No Peter!!!" Miranda shouted, racing to stop him. But suddenly, the sound of cracking ice erupted in the room. The Witch's face took on a look of fear as she watched the ice around her breaking. Then, suddenly, the column of ice shattered. Everyone within the room ducked as sharp ice flew everywhere. And just behind where the White Witch was, stood King Edmund, his sword drawn; and his eyes taking on the look that he had had years before.
Not quite knowing what she was doing, Miranda knelt down upon one knee, respecting her wise and just king. Truly, King Edmund the Just of Narnia, had returned home.
Looking toward his brother, King Edmund said in a cold, hard voice;
"I know; you had it sorted."
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Edmund's body was trembling with fear and anger all over as he stepped away from the place the White Witch was just moments before.
"Miranda; come with me please."
"Yes my king." She replied, gathering herself up from her position.
As soon as the two were out of hearing distance, Edmund turned around and faced Miranda.
"Did I just see what I think I saw?"
"You most certainly did."
Edmund closed his eyes and tried not to see the Witch's face looking back at him. Those cold, cruel eyes staring back at him. And his brother, his own brother, looking at her like he had wanted to set her free.
"She is gone my king. Because of your quick thinking and action, the Witch is gone."
"But Peter," Edmund said tightly. "He was so close to letting her go. You saw the look on his face. He wanted to do it. Why?"
"I believe my king, that that is a question that you are going to have to ask him yourself."
Edmund suddenly remembered something that puzzled him.
"Miranda, after the ice column crashed, you….. knelt down, like you sometimes did in the old days. I... I don't understand."
Miranda's hazel eyes shone with a light that he hadn't seen in a long time.
"If you could have seen your face my king, then you would know why. You were no longer King Edmund that came back to Narnia a young boy. You were King Edmund the Just, in the prime of your reign."
Edmund smiled at his old friend.
"Thanks for being there with me."
"I wasn't about to fail again sire," she said with a sly smile. "Besides, that's what friends are for."
The two didn't say anything for a moment, both of them lost in their thoughts. Then Miranda said;
"You are still trembling sire, and you are breathing too fast."
Edmund gave a forced laugh.
"Only you would notice that Miranda."
"Let us get you out into the open air before you faint or something."
The two turned toward the back entrance and ran out into the open air. Centaurs and minotaurs stood in the open area, either sleeping or sharpening their weapons.
Edmund breathed slowly and steadily, trying to forget the events that had just happened. Suddenly, one of the centaurs stepped forward, and Edmund quickly recognized the tall form of Glenstorm. His eyes were looking darkly upon Miranda.
"How is it that you made it out of the castle, while my son did not?"
Edmund's gaze went to Miranda. He knew that a challenge was being issued.
"If I could have saved your son, I would have."
"No," the centaur replied grimly. "The true Warrior of Narnia would have saved him. Not you."
The look that crossed Miranda's face was one that Edmund hoped he would never see again. She looked as if an arrow had struck her heart; filled with poison. She staggered back before saying;
"What have I done to cause you to hate me so? What do you want from me?"
Glenstorm's face took on a darker shade (if that were possible), and his voice was thick as he spoke.
"I want you to disappear from the face of the earth."
Without warning, the tall centaur drew his sword and ran for an attack. Edmund felt fear course through him as he approached, but knew better than to try and interfere.
When the centaur came within three feet of Miranda, she drew her sword and ducked down under him. His body came over her, but not to his advantage. As his front legs climbed over her, Miranda's sword sliced once, then twice. The centaur immediately fell down to his knees, causing him to drop his sword. He shouted out, and Edmund realized what Miranda had done. She had sliced the back of his front legs, causing him to be unable to stand on them without great pain.
Miranda quickly rolled out from under him as the rest of his body followed his legs. Coming up in front of him, she said;
"Do you really think that I am glad that I was rescued?" she asked the centaur softly. "Believe me, I wish more than anything that I had died last night instead of your son."
She then sat down on her knees and examined Glenstorm's wounded legs.
"It is not bad. But you should get yourself to a healer, just to be certain."
Glenstorm gazed at her in wonder.
"How did you know the weak point?"
A sad smile crossed her face.
"I was trained by the great centaur general, Orieus. He taught me all I know."
Glenstorm's eyes looked down.
"He trained you well….Warrior of Narnia."
Edmund breathed a sigh of relief. The girl and the centaur shook hands, and then Glenstorm went to a healer for his legs.
"Well done Miranda."
"I knew it was unavoidable. It just took knowing how to deal with it to make me ready."
Suddenly, a faun came rushing towards them, breathing heavily.
"Your majesty; You must come quickly."
Edmund's brow knotted in confusion, but he followed the faun with Miranda at his heels. The faun led them to the other side of the Howe, and Edmund gasped.
Hundreds of Telmarines were lining up just beyond the edge of the forest. Miraz had taken no time in taking advantage of the Narnian's weakness.
"Miranda, get Caspian and my sisters. I'll go and get Peter."
"Yes sire."
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Peter sat on the edge of the Stone Table; his eyes transfixed on the image of Aslan carved in the stone.
"I know. You had it sorted."
Edmund's words had stung. But he knew they were true. He had tried doing this by himself; again.
"Never have I been ashamed to call myself the Warrior of Narnia; until now."
Peter had to try and make it right. Narnian's had died, Edmund had seen his worst nightmare come back, and Miranda had seen a sight that would forever be seared into her mind. His selfish actions and pride had led them to this. But what did Aslan want him to do? What was he supposed to do now after having messed up this far? How could he even try and make it right?
"If only I knew."
He felt someone sit down beside him; and knew immediately who it was.
"You're lucky."
"What?" the confused voice of Lucy answered.
"To have seen him," he replied. "If only I knew what he wanted me to do."
Lucy looked at him with her big blue eyes.
"Maybe, we're supposed to find that out for ourselves."
"That might just be the problem."
His eyes went back up to the image of Aslan.
"Forgive me Aslan," his heart pleaded. "Please forgive me."
"Peter!" Edmund's voice erupted.
Peter and Lucy turned around towards their brother. Peter noticed something strange about his brother's glance, but the moment quickly passed.
"You should come quickly."
The three siblings ran out onto a ledge looking over the plain where Beruna once stood. Caspian, Susan, the professor Cornelius, Trumpkin, and Miranda stood waiting for them.
"It looks like Miraz didn't wait long," Miranda said.
The Telmarines were lined up in hundreds along the plain. A single white horse stood in the middle, with a rider dressed in gold armor. Miraz.
Peter knew that they needed to do something quick.
"We need a plan now!"
"No kidding," Edmund stated.
Peter could feel everything within him tense at the sight of the Telmarine soldiers. Then, quite suddenly, he felt a peace within him, and a thought sprung up in his mind.
"Oh Aslan. How could I have been so blind?"
"Come with me into one of the smaller rooms," Peter said. "I think that I might have an idea."