With Courage [Prince Caspian]

Chapter 3

Row by row, the crew sink to their knees and bow their heads in respect. After a moment's hesitation, I do the same.

The crowd disperses as to not overwhelm them and my view is finally clear. They appear younger than I am, but not by much, and greet Caspian and Reepicheep like old friends; which, I've learnt through Caspian's stories, they are exactly that. As for Caspian, this is by far the happiest he's been through the whole journey. It was one thing to hear the love in his voice when he spoke of the King and Queens of Old, but to see how it transforms him first hand is unbelievable. He looks younger now than ever.

He looks like he's home.

A scream splits the air, startling us all. "That giant rat thing just tried to claw my face off!" A boy, small and pinched with the word 'privileged' all but spelled out on his forehead, yells, his voice hoarse from coughing. His whole body shakes as he stands, pointing an accusatory finger at Reepicheep.

"I was merely trying to expel the water from your lungs, Sir." It's with a combination of pity and amusement that I watch the boy come apart. When I was introduced to Reepicheep, I was fortunate enough to have felt like my brain was a broken-down car waiting for repair, incapable of functioning and by extension, doing anything else unwanted – like spewing black clouds of fuel or exploding. Had it been whirring happily, I could see myself responding the same way he is now.

"I demand to know just where in the blazes am I?!" He won't be able to live this down any time soon, I think, cringing on his behalf.

"You're on the Dawn Treader, the finest ship in Narnia's navy." Tavros answers. The crew roars with laughter louder than ever as the boy collapses on the deck. I sigh and turn away. He'll have a dreadful headache when he wakes, which I wish I didn't know from experience.

Marco nudges my shoulder and nods his head in the direction of the kid, now in Tavros's arms as he moves him below deck. "Long lost brother of yours?" He jokes. I fake an exasperated sigh and plaster a smile on my face, trying to smother the pang in my chest. I can't say for sure, I think begrudgingly.

"Do you think King Edmund would duel me? I'd love to be able to tell my father I fought him. Did you know he took on the White Witch alone on the Fords of Beruna?" Marco keeps looking over his shoulder to the door he, Queen Lucy, and Caspian disappeared through as if he'd return brandishing a sword asking for a sparring partner immediately after being fished out of the ocean. His face is alight with childlike wonder, living legends he'd known only as bedtime stories now real and breathing and stuck with him for months with no escape... I consider warning them in advance.

"You respect their authority, do you?" I jump, spinning around and almost colliding with Caspian, currently watching me in amusement. A mere moment after Marco last craned his neck to check the door, Caspian had appeared in dry clothes, including a rich, sweetly scented leather tunic I have to restrain myself from not leaning in and inhaling deeper. I'm reminded of the farm I used to visit in my childhood, though my memories of the chipper yellow barn have turned sour with age.

"What do you mean?"

"You bowed to them, am I not worthy of the same?" He tries to feign hurt but a slow grin cracks his façade easily, and I huff out a sigh of relief.

"I didn't want to draw attention to myself. I thought standing above a crowd of kneeling sailors would do just that."

"I understand." He places a hand on my arm, then turns to call over Edmund and Lucy as they emerge from the stern. "I'd like you both to meet Amber Blackwill, our latest recruit."

"A female sailor! Susan would be pleased." Lucy delights, nudging Caspian. He waves it off flippantly.

"How long have you been a sailor for? You look so young!" Edmund jumps in. I struggle for words, running through my options mentally and trying to determine which best matches my desire of 'ambiguous truth'.