After the End (Narnia)

Chapter XIII - A Dance of Swords

The True Narnians assembled on the lawns at midday the next day, arriving early to obtain the best view of the action. They were peaceful people, but this was a realm where sword-fighting was not only a method of attack, but a sport. The Pevensie brothers had always been spectacular swordsmen, and the match had come with its fair share of anticipation.

Those not participating in the fight had spent the morning preparing refreshments as well as armour and horses for the fighters. All were anticipating a large turn out and a relatively safe fight. Narnian armour was built to withstand the harshest of blows, and the boys would undoubtedly look after each other. Today would simply be a fun event.

Edmund and Peter stood on opposite sides of the armoury, assisted by separate teams of Narnia's greatest swordsman. "Wear a Telmarine breastplate with a Narnian helmet," Caspian advised Peter. "Our old breastplates can withstand harsher blows than yours can."

"Just keep moving, ol' chap," Eustace told Edmund. Despite his earlier struggles with the sword, Eustace had ended up being one of Narnia's best sword-fighters. His thin frame had come to an advantage in impromptu fights, he had found. Reepicheep tried to model proper grip to Edmund as the young king started strapping on armour. The fight would begin in less than half an hour, and he wanted to be ready.

Two horses were saddled, bearing each man's personal colour and crest. Ever since their first adventures in Narnia, Peter had preferred red, Edmund preferring green. The crests had been created later during the Golden Age, when both men had been required to have crests of their own, signifying their property and households. Peter rode Vinnig, the white unicorn-horse breed that he had been reunited with in Aslan's Country. Edmund rode Phillip, his chestnut stallion, another old friend.

The two were led in front of a cheering crowd by Caspian and Eustace, wearing their crowns as a mere formality. Dismounting their horses, the men adjusted their armour a final time, handing their crowns to the red dwarf in charge of the royal jewels.

Edmund observed his older brother as he donned a Telmarine helmet. From inside the helmet he could hear himself breathing heavily, hear his heart thumping faster and faster. This was his moment. He would not throw away his shot.

Peter stared at his younger brother as he adjusted his armour. Edmund looked scared. He has never done this before, Peter realised with a start. This is completely foreign to him. Edmund's helmet reminded Peter of his own fight against Miraz in his youth. At least this time, he wouldn't be fighting for his life.

Edmund waited for the call to fight with nervous anticipation. The crowd chattered in the background. Suddenly, it was called that they should begin. The two men walked towards each other and tried to gauge each other's thoughts. Edmund, in a burst of energy, suddenly lunged towards Peter, attacking his right side with his blade. Peter, however, dodged the blow with graceful ease, countering the movement with a slash at Edmund's chest, which was quickly blocked resulting in a scraping of metal as the two swords met.

The crowd's cheers melted into a single sound as Edmund swept his blade towards Peter's shins. The older Pevensie avoided the blow almost completely, suffering a painful but inconsequential wound on his right leg. Falling briefly to the ground, Peter slashed at Edmund's shoulder, making a cut in the space in the gap between Edmund's armour. Edmund grimaced, switching his sword to his other hand and making a leap at Peter.

Peter used his shield to block Edmund's sudden move, rolling onto the ground as his injured leg began to give way. Fighting against Edmund's new advantage, Peter used his shield to cover his head while flailing his sword blindly at Edmund. The sword missed its mark, and after a few minutes Peter rolled back up onto his feet.

The sound of metal against metal dominated the lawns as the men continued to fight. The sun was starting to set as the tables had turned on Edmund. He was now fighting from the ground, mimicking Peter's earlier moves by blindly slashing at his opponent. Suddenly, a choking noise rang out across the lawn from behind Edmund's shield.

Peter put down his sword and grasped Edmund's shield, throwing it to the side. Edmund's face was turning purple, partially obstructed by the golden Telmarine helmet he wore. Peter strained to remove the helmet, but the harder he tugged on the golden object, the tighter its grip became on Edmund. Caspian sprinted into the arena. "There's a safety catch on these things, let me get to it," he explained, pulling at the bottom of the helmet. The helmet would not budge, much to Peter's disdain. Edmund was slowly losing consciousness as a green mist floated towards the arena. "Everyone go!" Eustace ordered. "Barricade yourselves in the castle! Close all windows and doors, and locate Aslan!"

Peter bashed at the safety catch with the handle of his sword, trying desperately to open the helmet. "Aslan, if you are there, please spare my brother's life!" he sobbed. Only Caspian, Edmund and Peter remained on the misty lawn as dark clouds began to obscure the sky. Edmund smiled as he jabbed his brother lightly in the chest, falling unconscious as the helmet squeezed tightly around his neck. Peter sobbed against his brother's chest as the light faded in True Narnia.