The High Queen II

The Battle of Beruna

Eleanor stood between Peter and Edmund, her axe glinting in the sunlight, her gaze fixed on the advancing Telmarine army. She didn't need to look at her brothers to know they were ready. She could feel the shared determination humming in the air between them.

Peter began the countdown, his voice calm and steady despite the chaos brewing ahead. "One, two, three..."

Caspian's voice echoed from the How. "Four, five, six..."

Susan's call was sharp and precise. "Archers to the ready!"

Eleanor inhaled deeply, the familiar rush of adrenaline surging through her. Her heart was steady, her mind focused. The Telmarine cavalry charged forward, a wave of steel and fury.

"Seven, eight, nine..." Peter shouted. "Get ready!"

"Take your aim!" Susan added.

"Now!" Caspian's command rang out, and the ground erupted as the Narnians beneath smashed the stone pillars. Horses screamed as they fell into the pit, and Susan's voice cut through the din. "Fire!"

Arrows rained down, striking true. Eleanor felt a flicker of satisfaction, but her focus shifted as her gaze landed on the Telmarine catapults in the distance. Those machines could tear through the Narnian defenses if they weren't stopped.

Without hesitation, Eleanor raised her hand. She didn't look back or speak a word. She didn't need to. Aelwyn, the mighty gryphon, swept down from above, his massive wings stirring the dust around her.

In one fluid motion, Eleanor reached up, her fingers brushing Aelwyn's talons as he grasped her securely. With practiced grace, she swung forward, flipping over his head and landing on his back. She gripped his feathers tightly, leaning low to balance herself as the gryphon surged upward.

Peter and Edmund watched her ascent, their faces a mix of pride and awe.

"She didn't even look," Edmund muttered, shaking his head.

Peter smirked faintly. "She doesn't need to."

High above the battlefield, Eleanor urged Aelwyn toward the catapults. The gryphon's sharp eyes locked onto their targets, and Eleanor's heart burned with determination.

"Let's show them what happens when you threaten Narnia," she murmured, her voice low but filled with steel.

Aelwyn screeched in reply, diving toward the first catapult as Eleanor readied her axe, the battle below a blur of chaos and resolve.

Eleanor braced herself as Aelwyn dove, the rush of wind whipping her hair back. Below, the battlefield was a chaotic storm of clashing blades, roaring voices, and the flash of arrows streaking through the air.

The first catapult came into view—a towering wooden construct manned by a cluster of Telmarine soldiers loading another boulder into place. Aelwyn screeched, a sound that made the soldiers look up in alarm.

Eleanor gripped the axe tightly. "Go lower, Aelwyn!"

The gryphon obeyed, skimming just above the heads of the soldiers. Eleanor swung her axe with precision, severing the ropes holding the catapult's arm in place. The machinery buckled with a groan, the soldiers scrambling to fix it.

Aelwyn didn't slow, banking sharply as Eleanor yelled, "The next one!"

The second catapult loomed ahead, but this time the Telmarines were prepared. Arrows flew toward them, and Aelwyn twisted in midair, dodging with remarkable agility. One arrow grazed Eleanor's arm, tearing her sleeve, but she barely noticed.