bungakertas (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
bungakertas) wrote2010-12-13 01:29 pm
bungakertas) wrote2010-12-13 01:29 pm
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The Trials of King Edmund - Chapter Six
The Trials of King Edmund - Chapter Six
Disclaimer and general Author's Notes are in the first entry, which is linked at the bottom.
Tashbaan was nothing like a Narnian city. First off, the architecture was completely different. The whole city was set onto a hill with the temple of Tash at the very top and the Tisroc’s palace just beneath that, and the hill was completely covered in buildings. Most of the buildings had flat roofs, and many that didn’t—most of which were domed—had a narrow walkway around the outside and decorative, but entirely functional battlements. Edmund could see at once that it was an excellently defensible city. Apart from that, however, it was lovely. The gardens gave off smells he was not accustomed to, of course, and the fruits that seemed to grow easily in Tashbaan were the same sorts that Narnians struggled in persuading to grow at all. Orange, lemon, and pomelo trees were scattered here and there.
Then there were the people. Edmund hadn’t seen so many humans in one place since he’d left England. People traded in the markets, and passed along the streets, and wandered in and out of this house or that. Poor people, who were dirty and ragged, were pressed back against the walk ways as rich people, dressed in bright colors, paraded grandly here and there. The city was altogether teeming with so many people that Edmund began to suspect that the population of this one city was equal to the human population of all of Narnia.
They traveled all the way up to the palace and entered through the grand front entrance, with what looked to be every member of the palace guard in attendance and saluting. Most of their attendants fell away at this point, and so it was only Susan, Edmund, Peridan, Corin, Tumnus, and Rence who accompanied them along the walks.
Calormene’s royal palace of the Tisroc--who was frequently wished immortality--was a rather famous building and so Edmund had of course heard stories about the Hall of Black Marble, into which they first stepped. While, in a sense, the Hall of Black Marble was fairly unremarkable, living exactly up to its name, Edmund had not realized just how grand such a place would really look. The dark stone was quite striking and he was unwillingly impressed.
And so it went. The Hall of Pillars and the Hall of Statues, and finally down a colonnade, open to the outdoors and lined with trees of white flowers. At last they came to a pair of huge copper doors, which were both opened at their approach.
The Calormene throne room had a central walkway paved in gold, and pillars of white marble shot through with gold veins. The court wore clothes in a riot of color, and above them all sat Rasheed Tisroc, ruler of Calormen.
He was a fat man, covered in jewels and colored silk, all done up in such overwhelming grandiosity that Edmund found the picture he presented altogether ridiculous. However, much as he dearly longed to laugh at the man, he bowed very low and very courteously, along with the other Narnians and politely awaited the Tisroc’s words.
However, it was Rabadash who stepped forward. “O my father, and O the delight of my eyes, may I present to you, the immortal Tisroc, Susan, Queen of Narnia, and her brother Edmund, King of Narnia. It is my wish that you receive them, and their company, into our court for a visit, as my guests,” Rabadash said, indicating them. His hand remained pointing at Edmund who recognized a cue when he saw it.
“Your most Serene Excellency is most gracious,” Edmund replied. “We are grateful for this audience with yourself and your kindness thus far bestowed on us. Narnia is pleased at this opportunity to deepen the bonds of friendship between our two nations.”
The Tisroc blinked, appearing to expect a bit more from him, but then said, “May they grow strong indeed, King Edmund. And may Tash himself bless your visit with a thousand blessings. You must all remain here today, to see our court.”
“It would be our greatest pleasure, sire,” Susan said with a pleasant lilt in her voice. Edmund had never managed to figure out how she and Lucy managed to get that musical quality in their tones when they wanted it. He’d heard them both sounding snappish enough times to know it was all for show, but as usual, it had the desired effect. Rabadash and the Tisroc both perked up and looked at her with gallant smiles.
Edmund tried not to roll his eyes.
They observed, that afternoon, as the Tisroc and Rabadash spent some time in court. Edmund found himself doubting that any of the visitors, however, were not staged, as each new arrival of So-and-so Tarkaan or Thus-and-such Tarkheena was more effusive and gushing in his or her praise of the Tisroc and his “effervescent magnanimousness”--a pronouncement from one of the tarkheenas which nearly sent Corin into fits of laughter and caused Tumnus to “accidentally” tread on his toes--than the last.
However, they eventually called a halt to the audiences and the Tisroc provided lunch for his Narnian visitors. Much like everything else, of course, the meal was fantastic. If it had not been so delicious, Edmund would have hated it for just that reason. He was beginning to grow tired of so much grandiosity, so it was with genuine pleasure that he accepted Rabadash’s invitation to go hunting the next day.
After lunch an aid came to the Narnian visitors and told them they would be residing a short distance away from the palace, and so they were led through the streets with a crier ahead them, to a nearby house where they all were grateful to be able to rest and relax a bit.
“Well,” Susan said, when she joined Edmund and Corin in the house’s upstairs drawing room, “that palace is terribly grand.”
“A large house to be mistress of, should you marry Rabadash,” Edmund mused.
“I may not be its mistress should the Tisroc live forever, as everyone wishes him to,” Susan replied with a hint of mischief in her eyes.
Corin gave up and sank into a couch, laughing. “I can not take some of these people seriously! Do they never relax?”
Edmund favored him with a wry grin. “It seems the nobility does not. Perhaps there are Calormenes who do, but I doubt we shall meet them on this visit.”
Peridan entered the room at that moment and bowed to all assembled. “Forgive me, your majesties, and your highness, for this interruption, but you may have the opportunity to meet more Calormene nobility rather sooner than you had thought. This invitation just arrived from the palace.”
He held out a vellum parchment, sealed not just with wax but a tassel as well. Edmund took it and said, “We are invited to a ball to be held in honor of our visit, tonight, at the palace. It begins at seven o’clock.”
Susan blinked. “Why did Rabadash not tell us earlier? I must begin preparing at once.”
Corin blinked. “But it’s only two-twenty!”
Susan smiled. “One day, Corin, you will learn not to question these things.” And with that pronouncement, she vanished.
Corin shrugged. “Well then.”
“No matter, Corin,” Edmund said. “She’ll be busy most of the afternoon. Shall we play a game of chess?”
That night, they all reported to the palace, decked out in all their finery. Edmund found himself struggling to keep up with the local dance customs and quickly retreated to another room where he could mingle and speak to people without either giving offense or making a fool of himself. Corin seemed to be everywhere at once, flirting absolutely incorrigibly with--as far as Edmund could count--at least four different Calormene ladies at once. He had no trouble with the Calormene dances, and so Edmund cheerfully assigned him to keeping an eye on Susan, who was likewise a capable dancer.
He found himself in another philosophical debate with the ambassadors Irukan, Ravid, and Arvish, although this time he had Peridan’s help. And, eventually, it was time for supper.
For all the compliments he could offer to Calormen, the food was somewhere near the top of Edmund’s list. Spiced fish and beef over rice, shrimp, salad, several different sorts of chilled fruits, and a lovely sweet wine. It was absolutely delicious, and Edmund wanted nothing more dearly after dinner than to curl up with a good book. Naturally, of course, that meant he was required to go back out to the party and do several more rounds with the people there. A few of the princesses did manage to maneuver him into dancing with them, and he had to admit that Princess Pariva was an excellent conversation partner. Thankfully, she was his partner for one of the longer dances and occasionally gave him hints as to what came next when she noticed him struggling. When he bowed to her afterward and said thank you, it was not entirely perfunctory.
“And thank you, your majesty,” she replied with a kind smile. “Your company has been most welcome.”
That dance was the highlight of Edmund’s evening, and by the time their party managed to return to the house where they were staying, it was late and he was exhausted. Remembering Sallowpad, he left the window of his room open when he went to bed, but the raven did not put in an appearance that night.
The next day Edmund, Peridan, and Corin went hunting with Rabadash and his party. And when they returned, they met up with Susan, Arvish, and his wife Lasaraleen for lunch. Only two minutes after meeting her, Edmund could not be anything but happy he was not sitting next to her. The girl giggled and tittered her whole way through lunch, clearly without a thought in her head beyond dresses and dancing. He found himself devoutly wishing to speak to Pariva again, who was competent in both dressing and dancing, but was far more interested in speaking about politics and literature. Peridan, who was forced to sit next to Lasaraleen, later reported that she actually did have a kind disposition, however much it was covered up with the giggles.
And then it was back to the palace, where Edmund and Peridan argued with Irukan, Ravid, Arvish, and Rabadash over the wedding settlements. And still, that night, Sallowpad did not appear.
It was not until late the next night, when Edmund finally escaped into his room, that the raven came winging in through the window, startling him, as he landed on one of Edmund’s carved bedposts.
“By the Lion’s mane, Sallowpad!” Edmund exclaimed quietly. “Don’t fly at my face in the dark like that!”
“My apologies, sire,” the raven replied. While his tone was perfectly correct, Edmund detected just a hint of amusement in it. Since the room was actually well lit by two hanging oil lamps, as well as several candles in mirrored sconces carved into the walls here and there, Edmund supposed the amusement was justified.
“Very well, then,” Edmund groused, good-naturedly, sitting on the bed and tugging off his boots. “Have your joke. What have you discovered?”
“That the Calormenes keep a very good garrison,” Sallowpad said. “They maintain a standing army, and there are almost fifteen hundred men-at-arms and five hundred riders in this city alone.”
Edmund’s eyebrows went up. “Two thousand men in the city? Why on earth do they need such an enormous force?”
“My concern, sire, is that they don’t,” Sallowpad replied quietly.
“Explain,” Edmund returned.
“My observation is that the barracks are overfull. There are more men than there are duty shifts, and some of them seem unfamiliar with the city. It is my belief that the army here in Tashbaan is at a greater number than is customary,” Sallowpad answered.
“Do you know why?”
“No, your majesty. I can not identify any particular threat,” the raven answered.
Edmund frowned deeply. “You don’t stuff a garrison to the gills with extra soldiers for no reason at all. We’re missing something.”
“Yes, your majesty. I believe so. With your permission, I would like to maintain observation of the Calormenes.”
“Please do,” Edmund replied. Sallowpad was fluttering his wings and hopping slightly from foot to foot, which, in a bird, is an almost sure sign that they want to tell you something. “What is it?”
“Your majesty, I fear this is not my place to say, but I have a terrible feeling that this trip to Tashbaan was unwise.”
A deep silence fell between them. Edmund looked at Sallowpad for a long moment and finally elected to file his warning away for later. Instead he nodded, then said, “So far, I’ve told no one else you’re here. However, I’m going to inform Peridan, Tumnus, Rence, Thornbut, and Mikelston tomorrow. You may make your next report to any of the six of us.” He paused, then said, “Is there anything else you need?”
“No, your majesty.” The raven fluttered his wings a bit, before looking at Edmund and saying, “However, sire…I find that I am very glad to have someone to speak to.”
“I’m sorry to ask this pretense of you,” Edmund sighed.
“It is my pleasure to serve you, your majesty,” Sallowpad replied, with a note in his voice that Edmund had long ago identified as the bird version of fondness.
He looked at the raven and finally said, “Well, then. Dismissed. Report back as soon as you may.”
Sallowpad spread his wings and bowed. “Your majesty.” Then he fluttered out the window and was gone.
They didn’t see Sallowpad for the next several days, although Edmund did mention him to the others. When he did report back in, it was with different news. Prince Rabadash was frequently seen in council with the three ambassadors for long hours, and he was not happy that Susan had yet to give him an answer to his suit. He ranted about her in his own room, sometimes.
This became the pattern for three solid weeks of parties, hunts, and diplomatic meetings. Whenever they could get away from their social obligations, Edmund, Peridan, and Tumnus argued with Irukan, Arvish, Ravid, and Rabadash over wedding settlements. And, as their social obligations were many and various, all three of them grew more and more tired and irritable. It was a clear strategy to keep them off of their game, and Edmund hated it, but it was working. He felt terrible.
In fact, the only part of all of this he could count himself satisfied with was that Susan was not flirting with Rabadash nearly so much anymore. In fact, as he grew more and more rude and irritable with the Narnians, she grew more and more distant from him. Her responses to his hints about a marriage were more frequently hesitant and vague.
Unfortunately, however happy this made him otherwise, it did mean that they were loosing ground with Rabadash. Edmund wasn’t sure if he was even concerned with what they were meant to be arguing about anymore.
He found himself, at one point, questioning Pariva during a ball—in a relatively oblique way—to discover if they were simply being hindered by cultural differences.
“I have noticed that Calormenes seem to place a very high value on poetry,” he observed to her one evening, as they left the dance floor. With the princess coaching him, he felt confident enough to stand up for a few sets. He had a suspicion this had saved him from gaining a reputation for coldness.
Pariva gave him an amused glance and said, “Do you tire of the quotations of learned men that you must daily endure?”
Edmund gave a rueful smile. “I must confess that I do. Poetry in Narnia is quite different.”
“Oh?” The princess lifted a dark brow in question.
“Our poets more frequently tell stories than give advice,” Edmund explained. He thought for a moment, then said, “‘The lord and lovely lady of the skies, Whose shining dance before our eyes, Must fix the hearts of all who see, With their love and all their majesty.’ Those are the opening lines of ‘The Ballad of Tarva and Alambil.’”
Pariva blinked. “Quite different indeed, I see. But lovely.”
“But I am curious. Why might a person quote a poet during a conversation?” Edmund had been about ready to throw things at the three Calormene ambassadors for all their quoting of adages. But realizing that perhaps he did not understand the full picture of how they were being used in negotiations, he had resolved to ask for some advice.
“Oh, a number of reasons. I believe we ought to find some refreshments, and then I shall explain some of them to you,” Pariva answered with a grin.
Edmund fetched her some spiced wine, and some for himself, along with a few of the cheeses that were available, and joined her near one of the windows.
“Now then, one might quote the poets, obviously, pretentiously. If you believe you are more educated or wish to make someone less educated feel aware of their lack, quotation is always useful. This is, of course, dangerous. Not all well-read persons appear so at first glance,” Pariva said with a grin.
Edmund, recalling several times he had been made foolish by people he had not suspected could do so, answered her grin with one of his own. “Just so.”
“A much better reason is because one feels that this poet or that has expressed something more precisely or more thoughtfully than one feels capable of doing oneself. The poet Cestalar wrote, ‘Do not picture Lord Kalidan as though he were putting things into your mind. He works best by keeping things out.’ I've always thought this a very astute point.”
Lord Kalidan, as Edmund recalled from his schooling, was the Calormene god who delighted in chaos and misdeeds. People who did evil things were often said to be “worshipers of Kalidan,” and open worship of him was indeed outlawed in Calormen.
“One might also quote a poet to support an argument that was weak, by claiming that a poet agreed with you,” Pariva continued. “And occasionally, if your conversation partner is not well-versed in the poets, you might claim a poet had written something that is, in reality, your own opinion. This may protect it from being questioned too closely.
She smiled mischievously and added, “I have always found this last a useful trick for causing the Grand Vizier or other of the royal advisors to stop plaguing me about one thing or other. I do not believe anyone but Kidrash Tarkaan has ever caught me out on it.”
Edmund laughed at this, however much this report dampened his spirits. Pariva had told him nothing he might not have thought of himself. Whyever their negotiations were breaking down, it would seem cultural differences had little to do with it.
He was so distracted that he failed to notice Lasaraleen on the approach and was forced to dance with her. He suspected that she regretted this more than he afterwards, however, as he trod on her toes twice during the dance and came close to doing so a dozen more times. He was terribly embarrassed and apologized very profusely, and she naturally forgave him, but she also avoided dancing with him from then onwards.
*~*~*
Author's Notes: Yay! We are nearing the place where our hero's story will intersect with the stories of the heroes of The Horse and His Boy. *excitement*
Sharp-eyed fans of Mr. Jack Lewis will, of course, recognize Pariva's quote of "Cestalar" as one that actually comes from The Screwtape Letters. Letter number four, if you wish to get specific. I had originally planned to take a quote from The Problem of Pain, which I like better, but I couldn't find one quite so pithy and concise in that book. I also thought it would be rather amusing to cast Lewis in the role of poet, given that his actual poetry was not very well read. "The Ballad of Tarva and Alambil" is my own creation, as is Edmund's quote of it. If you felt it to be somewhat less than "lovely," then I hope you will imagine something better and more suitable in its place, rather than imagining poor Pariva's taste in poetry is in any way bad. :)
Chapter One - A Proposal is Made to Queen Susan
Chapter Two - Prince Rabadash Arrives in Narnia
Chapter Three - Harfang Sends an Envoy
Chapter Four - The Narnians Hold a Tournament
Chapter Five - A Voyage to Tashbaan
Chapter Seven - Prince Corin Goes Missing
Chapter Eight - The Plan of Mr. Tumnus
Chapter Nine - Escape to Narnia and the North
Chapter Ten - The Battle of Anvard
Chapter Eleven - King Edmund and Queen Lucy
Chapter Twelve - The Return To Cair Paravel
Disclaimer and general Author's Notes are in the first entry, which is linked at the bottom.
Tashbaan was nothing like a Narnian city. First off, the architecture was completely different. The whole city was set onto a hill with the temple of Tash at the very top and the Tisroc’s palace just beneath that, and the hill was completely covered in buildings. Most of the buildings had flat roofs, and many that didn’t—most of which were domed—had a narrow walkway around the outside and decorative, but entirely functional battlements. Edmund could see at once that it was an excellently defensible city. Apart from that, however, it was lovely. The gardens gave off smells he was not accustomed to, of course, and the fruits that seemed to grow easily in Tashbaan were the same sorts that Narnians struggled in persuading to grow at all. Orange, lemon, and pomelo trees were scattered here and there.
Then there were the people. Edmund hadn’t seen so many humans in one place since he’d left England. People traded in the markets, and passed along the streets, and wandered in and out of this house or that. Poor people, who were dirty and ragged, were pressed back against the walk ways as rich people, dressed in bright colors, paraded grandly here and there. The city was altogether teeming with so many people that Edmund began to suspect that the population of this one city was equal to the human population of all of Narnia.
They traveled all the way up to the palace and entered through the grand front entrance, with what looked to be every member of the palace guard in attendance and saluting. Most of their attendants fell away at this point, and so it was only Susan, Edmund, Peridan, Corin, Tumnus, and Rence who accompanied them along the walks.
Calormene’s royal palace of the Tisroc--who was frequently wished immortality--was a rather famous building and so Edmund had of course heard stories about the Hall of Black Marble, into which they first stepped. While, in a sense, the Hall of Black Marble was fairly unremarkable, living exactly up to its name, Edmund had not realized just how grand such a place would really look. The dark stone was quite striking and he was unwillingly impressed.
And so it went. The Hall of Pillars and the Hall of Statues, and finally down a colonnade, open to the outdoors and lined with trees of white flowers. At last they came to a pair of huge copper doors, which were both opened at their approach.
The Calormene throne room had a central walkway paved in gold, and pillars of white marble shot through with gold veins. The court wore clothes in a riot of color, and above them all sat Rasheed Tisroc, ruler of Calormen.
He was a fat man, covered in jewels and colored silk, all done up in such overwhelming grandiosity that Edmund found the picture he presented altogether ridiculous. However, much as he dearly longed to laugh at the man, he bowed very low and very courteously, along with the other Narnians and politely awaited the Tisroc’s words.
However, it was Rabadash who stepped forward. “O my father, and O the delight of my eyes, may I present to you, the immortal Tisroc, Susan, Queen of Narnia, and her brother Edmund, King of Narnia. It is my wish that you receive them, and their company, into our court for a visit, as my guests,” Rabadash said, indicating them. His hand remained pointing at Edmund who recognized a cue when he saw it.
“Your most Serene Excellency is most gracious,” Edmund replied. “We are grateful for this audience with yourself and your kindness thus far bestowed on us. Narnia is pleased at this opportunity to deepen the bonds of friendship between our two nations.”
The Tisroc blinked, appearing to expect a bit more from him, but then said, “May they grow strong indeed, King Edmund. And may Tash himself bless your visit with a thousand blessings. You must all remain here today, to see our court.”
“It would be our greatest pleasure, sire,” Susan said with a pleasant lilt in her voice. Edmund had never managed to figure out how she and Lucy managed to get that musical quality in their tones when they wanted it. He’d heard them both sounding snappish enough times to know it was all for show, but as usual, it had the desired effect. Rabadash and the Tisroc both perked up and looked at her with gallant smiles.
Edmund tried not to roll his eyes.
They observed, that afternoon, as the Tisroc and Rabadash spent some time in court. Edmund found himself doubting that any of the visitors, however, were not staged, as each new arrival of So-and-so Tarkaan or Thus-and-such Tarkheena was more effusive and gushing in his or her praise of the Tisroc and his “effervescent magnanimousness”--a pronouncement from one of the tarkheenas which nearly sent Corin into fits of laughter and caused Tumnus to “accidentally” tread on his toes--than the last.
However, they eventually called a halt to the audiences and the Tisroc provided lunch for his Narnian visitors. Much like everything else, of course, the meal was fantastic. If it had not been so delicious, Edmund would have hated it for just that reason. He was beginning to grow tired of so much grandiosity, so it was with genuine pleasure that he accepted Rabadash’s invitation to go hunting the next day.
After lunch an aid came to the Narnian visitors and told them they would be residing a short distance away from the palace, and so they were led through the streets with a crier ahead them, to a nearby house where they all were grateful to be able to rest and relax a bit.
“Well,” Susan said, when she joined Edmund and Corin in the house’s upstairs drawing room, “that palace is terribly grand.”
“A large house to be mistress of, should you marry Rabadash,” Edmund mused.
“I may not be its mistress should the Tisroc live forever, as everyone wishes him to,” Susan replied with a hint of mischief in her eyes.
Corin gave up and sank into a couch, laughing. “I can not take some of these people seriously! Do they never relax?”
Edmund favored him with a wry grin. “It seems the nobility does not. Perhaps there are Calormenes who do, but I doubt we shall meet them on this visit.”
Peridan entered the room at that moment and bowed to all assembled. “Forgive me, your majesties, and your highness, for this interruption, but you may have the opportunity to meet more Calormene nobility rather sooner than you had thought. This invitation just arrived from the palace.”
He held out a vellum parchment, sealed not just with wax but a tassel as well. Edmund took it and said, “We are invited to a ball to be held in honor of our visit, tonight, at the palace. It begins at seven o’clock.”
Susan blinked. “Why did Rabadash not tell us earlier? I must begin preparing at once.”
Corin blinked. “But it’s only two-twenty!”
Susan smiled. “One day, Corin, you will learn not to question these things.” And with that pronouncement, she vanished.
Corin shrugged. “Well then.”
“No matter, Corin,” Edmund said. “She’ll be busy most of the afternoon. Shall we play a game of chess?”
That night, they all reported to the palace, decked out in all their finery. Edmund found himself struggling to keep up with the local dance customs and quickly retreated to another room where he could mingle and speak to people without either giving offense or making a fool of himself. Corin seemed to be everywhere at once, flirting absolutely incorrigibly with--as far as Edmund could count--at least four different Calormene ladies at once. He had no trouble with the Calormene dances, and so Edmund cheerfully assigned him to keeping an eye on Susan, who was likewise a capable dancer.
He found himself in another philosophical debate with the ambassadors Irukan, Ravid, and Arvish, although this time he had Peridan’s help. And, eventually, it was time for supper.
For all the compliments he could offer to Calormen, the food was somewhere near the top of Edmund’s list. Spiced fish and beef over rice, shrimp, salad, several different sorts of chilled fruits, and a lovely sweet wine. It was absolutely delicious, and Edmund wanted nothing more dearly after dinner than to curl up with a good book. Naturally, of course, that meant he was required to go back out to the party and do several more rounds with the people there. A few of the princesses did manage to maneuver him into dancing with them, and he had to admit that Princess Pariva was an excellent conversation partner. Thankfully, she was his partner for one of the longer dances and occasionally gave him hints as to what came next when she noticed him struggling. When he bowed to her afterward and said thank you, it was not entirely perfunctory.
“And thank you, your majesty,” she replied with a kind smile. “Your company has been most welcome.”
That dance was the highlight of Edmund’s evening, and by the time their party managed to return to the house where they were staying, it was late and he was exhausted. Remembering Sallowpad, he left the window of his room open when he went to bed, but the raven did not put in an appearance that night.
The next day Edmund, Peridan, and Corin went hunting with Rabadash and his party. And when they returned, they met up with Susan, Arvish, and his wife Lasaraleen for lunch. Only two minutes after meeting her, Edmund could not be anything but happy he was not sitting next to her. The girl giggled and tittered her whole way through lunch, clearly without a thought in her head beyond dresses and dancing. He found himself devoutly wishing to speak to Pariva again, who was competent in both dressing and dancing, but was far more interested in speaking about politics and literature. Peridan, who was forced to sit next to Lasaraleen, later reported that she actually did have a kind disposition, however much it was covered up with the giggles.
And then it was back to the palace, where Edmund and Peridan argued with Irukan, Ravid, Arvish, and Rabadash over the wedding settlements. And still, that night, Sallowpad did not appear.
It was not until late the next night, when Edmund finally escaped into his room, that the raven came winging in through the window, startling him, as he landed on one of Edmund’s carved bedposts.
“By the Lion’s mane, Sallowpad!” Edmund exclaimed quietly. “Don’t fly at my face in the dark like that!”
“My apologies, sire,” the raven replied. While his tone was perfectly correct, Edmund detected just a hint of amusement in it. Since the room was actually well lit by two hanging oil lamps, as well as several candles in mirrored sconces carved into the walls here and there, Edmund supposed the amusement was justified.
“Very well, then,” Edmund groused, good-naturedly, sitting on the bed and tugging off his boots. “Have your joke. What have you discovered?”
“That the Calormenes keep a very good garrison,” Sallowpad said. “They maintain a standing army, and there are almost fifteen hundred men-at-arms and five hundred riders in this city alone.”
Edmund’s eyebrows went up. “Two thousand men in the city? Why on earth do they need such an enormous force?”
“My concern, sire, is that they don’t,” Sallowpad replied quietly.
“Explain,” Edmund returned.
“My observation is that the barracks are overfull. There are more men than there are duty shifts, and some of them seem unfamiliar with the city. It is my belief that the army here in Tashbaan is at a greater number than is customary,” Sallowpad answered.
“Do you know why?”
“No, your majesty. I can not identify any particular threat,” the raven answered.
Edmund frowned deeply. “You don’t stuff a garrison to the gills with extra soldiers for no reason at all. We’re missing something.”
“Yes, your majesty. I believe so. With your permission, I would like to maintain observation of the Calormenes.”
“Please do,” Edmund replied. Sallowpad was fluttering his wings and hopping slightly from foot to foot, which, in a bird, is an almost sure sign that they want to tell you something. “What is it?”
“Your majesty, I fear this is not my place to say, but I have a terrible feeling that this trip to Tashbaan was unwise.”
A deep silence fell between them. Edmund looked at Sallowpad for a long moment and finally elected to file his warning away for later. Instead he nodded, then said, “So far, I’ve told no one else you’re here. However, I’m going to inform Peridan, Tumnus, Rence, Thornbut, and Mikelston tomorrow. You may make your next report to any of the six of us.” He paused, then said, “Is there anything else you need?”
“No, your majesty.” The raven fluttered his wings a bit, before looking at Edmund and saying, “However, sire…I find that I am very glad to have someone to speak to.”
“I’m sorry to ask this pretense of you,” Edmund sighed.
“It is my pleasure to serve you, your majesty,” Sallowpad replied, with a note in his voice that Edmund had long ago identified as the bird version of fondness.
He looked at the raven and finally said, “Well, then. Dismissed. Report back as soon as you may.”
Sallowpad spread his wings and bowed. “Your majesty.” Then he fluttered out the window and was gone.
They didn’t see Sallowpad for the next several days, although Edmund did mention him to the others. When he did report back in, it was with different news. Prince Rabadash was frequently seen in council with the three ambassadors for long hours, and he was not happy that Susan had yet to give him an answer to his suit. He ranted about her in his own room, sometimes.
This became the pattern for three solid weeks of parties, hunts, and diplomatic meetings. Whenever they could get away from their social obligations, Edmund, Peridan, and Tumnus argued with Irukan, Arvish, Ravid, and Rabadash over wedding settlements. And, as their social obligations were many and various, all three of them grew more and more tired and irritable. It was a clear strategy to keep them off of their game, and Edmund hated it, but it was working. He felt terrible.
In fact, the only part of all of this he could count himself satisfied with was that Susan was not flirting with Rabadash nearly so much anymore. In fact, as he grew more and more rude and irritable with the Narnians, she grew more and more distant from him. Her responses to his hints about a marriage were more frequently hesitant and vague.
Unfortunately, however happy this made him otherwise, it did mean that they were loosing ground with Rabadash. Edmund wasn’t sure if he was even concerned with what they were meant to be arguing about anymore.
He found himself, at one point, questioning Pariva during a ball—in a relatively oblique way—to discover if they were simply being hindered by cultural differences.
“I have noticed that Calormenes seem to place a very high value on poetry,” he observed to her one evening, as they left the dance floor. With the princess coaching him, he felt confident enough to stand up for a few sets. He had a suspicion this had saved him from gaining a reputation for coldness.
Pariva gave him an amused glance and said, “Do you tire of the quotations of learned men that you must daily endure?”
Edmund gave a rueful smile. “I must confess that I do. Poetry in Narnia is quite different.”
“Oh?” The princess lifted a dark brow in question.
“Our poets more frequently tell stories than give advice,” Edmund explained. He thought for a moment, then said, “‘The lord and lovely lady of the skies, Whose shining dance before our eyes, Must fix the hearts of all who see, With their love and all their majesty.’ Those are the opening lines of ‘The Ballad of Tarva and Alambil.’”
Pariva blinked. “Quite different indeed, I see. But lovely.”
“But I am curious. Why might a person quote a poet during a conversation?” Edmund had been about ready to throw things at the three Calormene ambassadors for all their quoting of adages. But realizing that perhaps he did not understand the full picture of how they were being used in negotiations, he had resolved to ask for some advice.
“Oh, a number of reasons. I believe we ought to find some refreshments, and then I shall explain some of them to you,” Pariva answered with a grin.
Edmund fetched her some spiced wine, and some for himself, along with a few of the cheeses that were available, and joined her near one of the windows.
“Now then, one might quote the poets, obviously, pretentiously. If you believe you are more educated or wish to make someone less educated feel aware of their lack, quotation is always useful. This is, of course, dangerous. Not all well-read persons appear so at first glance,” Pariva said with a grin.
Edmund, recalling several times he had been made foolish by people he had not suspected could do so, answered her grin with one of his own. “Just so.”
“A much better reason is because one feels that this poet or that has expressed something more precisely or more thoughtfully than one feels capable of doing oneself. The poet Cestalar wrote, ‘Do not picture Lord Kalidan as though he were putting things into your mind. He works best by keeping things out.’ I've always thought this a very astute point.”
Lord Kalidan, as Edmund recalled from his schooling, was the Calormene god who delighted in chaos and misdeeds. People who did evil things were often said to be “worshipers of Kalidan,” and open worship of him was indeed outlawed in Calormen.
“One might also quote a poet to support an argument that was weak, by claiming that a poet agreed with you,” Pariva continued. “And occasionally, if your conversation partner is not well-versed in the poets, you might claim a poet had written something that is, in reality, your own opinion. This may protect it from being questioned too closely.
She smiled mischievously and added, “I have always found this last a useful trick for causing the Grand Vizier or other of the royal advisors to stop plaguing me about one thing or other. I do not believe anyone but Kidrash Tarkaan has ever caught me out on it.”
Edmund laughed at this, however much this report dampened his spirits. Pariva had told him nothing he might not have thought of himself. Whyever their negotiations were breaking down, it would seem cultural differences had little to do with it.
He was so distracted that he failed to notice Lasaraleen on the approach and was forced to dance with her. He suspected that she regretted this more than he afterwards, however, as he trod on her toes twice during the dance and came close to doing so a dozen more times. He was terribly embarrassed and apologized very profusely, and she naturally forgave him, but she also avoided dancing with him from then onwards.
Author's Notes: Yay! We are nearing the place where our hero's story will intersect with the stories of the heroes of The Horse and His Boy. *excitement*
Sharp-eyed fans of Mr. Jack Lewis will, of course, recognize Pariva's quote of "Cestalar" as one that actually comes from The Screwtape Letters. Letter number four, if you wish to get specific. I had originally planned to take a quote from The Problem of Pain, which I like better, but I couldn't find one quite so pithy and concise in that book. I also thought it would be rather amusing to cast Lewis in the role of poet, given that his actual poetry was not very well read. "The Ballad of Tarva and Alambil" is my own creation, as is Edmund's quote of it. If you felt it to be somewhat less than "lovely," then I hope you will imagine something better and more suitable in its place, rather than imagining poor Pariva's taste in poetry is in any way bad. :)
Chapter One - A Proposal is Made to Queen Susan
Chapter Two - Prince Rabadash Arrives in Narnia
Chapter Three - Harfang Sends an Envoy
Chapter Four - The Narnians Hold a Tournament
Chapter Five - A Voyage to Tashbaan
Chapter Seven - Prince Corin Goes Missing
Chapter Eight - The Plan of Mr. Tumnus
Chapter Nine - Escape to Narnia and the North
Chapter Ten - The Battle of Anvard
Chapter Eleven - King Edmund and Queen Lucy
Chapter Twelve - The Return To Cair Paravel