Ariel.of.Narnia wrote:Accepting a ride doesn't mean you're sick either, Edmund! Stubborn dolt....
I know! Thanks for keeping up with this story and commenting, Ariel!
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Peter sloshed through the wet grass and mud along the riverbank. "Edmund!
Edmund! Ed! Can you hear me? Answer me! Edmund!" the High King cried desperately, at the point of breaking. "Edmund, Where are you? Please answer me," he begged, his voice reduced to a hoarse whisper after yelling those same words all night long. He sank down, exhausted by the night's search, ignoring the discomfort as his armor jammed against his knees. His heart ached and his throat constricted painfully. He felt a burning sensation at the corners of his eyes and he blinked, trying desperately to hold back the tears that threatened to fall.
A far distant memory stirred like a dream in his mind. He was standing inside a strange building, in what seemed like a long time ago when he was younger, and a familiar woman stood in front of him. She had a kind, fair-skinned face and dark eyes like that of his brother, Edmund. He sensed anxiousness and worry from her, for even though she hid behind a brave demeanor her eyes betrayed her. As he looked around, he noticed the feeling of urgency mingled with fear and childish cries. Who was she? His mother?
She had hugged the younger version of him, and whispered gently in his ear, "Look after the others." He had replied, "I will Mum, I promise." Despite his best efforts, he had not always been able to keep his word and now his only brother was missing.
Why had he let him come?
"Sweet Aslan, help me find my brother please, I beg," he prayed silently.
At the muffled sound of hooves coming across the plain, he raised his eyes to meet those of his stony-faced general. Steam rose off his mud-spattered flanks in the early twilight air. Oreius hardly ever showed any emotion, but Peter knew a stony look like this only meant one thing, the general was worried.
"Yes, General?" the High King asked, pleading for any report of his brother, as the general had been right there with Peter and the soldiers all along, leading the foremost search party.
"King Peter, you have been searching the night through. You are exhausted. Allow us to continue seeking your brother. You must return to the camp and rest. "
"He is my brother, General. As such, I will continue searching with or without a guard, till I have no strength left." the High King snapped through gritted teeth as he stood and walked away to continue the search, forgetting for a moment that Oreius would never abandon the search either.
Walking along the riverbank and battling the despair that threatened to engulf him, he stared at the murky river beside him. No longer a torrent, the waters had receded to a sluggish, shallow swirl of muddy water. A flash of metal caught his eye, the light reflecting off a familiar glint of steel as the sun arose in a magnificent display of color. He gasped and began to run forward, ignoring the cries of the soldiers around him and moving faster as he got closer the edge of the river up ahead.
"Edmund!"
Panic replaced despair as he lunged through the filthy water. The younger king lay unconscious among the reeds, his face barely above the surface of the river. Heedless of the cold and muck, Peter knelt and carefully, gently cradled his brother's head on his lap. Edmund's breaths were barely audible, only a whisper. The High King looked up desperately, shouting to the astonished soldiers:
"Flynn, alert the army. Swiftfoot, Twitterwing, fetch the healers! Tell them we need a litter! Quickly!"
He didn't even watch to see if they obeyed, but turned his full attention back on Edmund. There was a long, ugly cut on his forehead and beneath the filth covering him, Peter could see bruises forming on his brother's face. Dents from that awful fall marred his armor. Peter had seen enough battles to know that Edmund's injuries were far worse than were immediately visible.
Why, why had he insisted that Lucy stay behind at Cair Paravel?