With Courage [Prince Caspian]

Chapter 9

As morning creeps over the island, inching its fingers across the sand and the sea to paint it golden, Caspian wakes to the call of a bird. He yawns and blinks slowly to relieve the cloud of lingering drowsiness from his head and follows the path of his arm down to where his hand still holds Amber's. A steady warmth, unrelated to the sun now embracing the island fully, settles contentedly in his stomach while he takes a moment to look over her undeniably messy hair and mouth parted ever so slightly. He slides his hand out from hers reluctantly and stands, looking towards the Dawn Treader silhouetted against the light in the bay then across his docile crew. Limbs thrown wide, tangled blankets and –

Footsteps.

"Edmund!" He nudges the King beside him, dropping naturally into a fighting stance before retrieving his sword and studying the prints. Four times as large as a human's, spread out enough to present the question of giants though Caspian had never known giants to walk with such hazardous, mislaid steps. There were no two clear paths heading on and off the beach, instead pressing into the sand at various angles and overlapping more than they should. Whatever crept among them in the night, he determined, was no lone being.

Around him the crew raise their heads and spark to life at the sight of their Kings prowling with drawn blades, rushing to do the same. Amber comes to slower, her body registering the unsettled atmosphere before her brain can, tensing and trying to fight the urge to open her eyes as the quiet shifting of the crew whispers with fear. She eventually opens her eyes to an empty bed beside her, just like the others behind and around it.

"Where's Lucy? Lucy! LUCY!" At the sound of Edmund's yelling she jolts up and snatches up her sword, following the crew to where they approach the stretch of hedges and noting the footprints with an apprehensive eye.

The fade into grass from sand is littered with more footprints, overlapping and creating a deformed hulk that the crew expand with their own frantic steps heading further into the island. They emerge onto a wide slope of grass, inset with swells of land decorated with thicker swirls of greenery, each with a towering shrub protruding from their centre – equally trimmed with a delicate hand. Land stretches far in front of them, a collection of dips and hills that end with an impressive wall of mountains, though there was no time to admire; the gaping landscape was currently fuelling their panic. It was so quiet. Not a sign of life in sight, just undisturbed nature with few places for a creature – especially a giant, like they suspected – to hide. Whatever took Lucy was stealthy, capable of covering the breadth of their tracks and apparently very skilled at maintaining a garden.

The crew delve further, only the faint whistle of wind and soft tread of their steps audible against their individually racing heartbeats. "Caspian – Lucy's dagger." Edmund cuts at the silence, kneeling to pick up the fallen blade. Caspian moves closer, followed by several crew members, when a spear arcs high over a hedge and embeds itself between the Kings. A swarm of others follow, finding the ground between scuttling feet until they're surrounded by a wide circle of pikes and left to lumber like caged animals in a pen.

"Stop right there or perish." Orders a disembodied voice, a deep croak like that of a bullfrog. Amber grips her sword tighter as she searches for the source, swallowing her fear at the thought of being surrounded.

There. The bristle of leaves on a nearby pillar, the slightest ripple despite the mild air. Unconsciously, she steps forward. Around her the men are tense, waiting for an order or a threat to infect the air once again, shuffling in fretful anticipation. From the corner of his eye, Caspian notes Amber's slow gait and begins to side-step to block her path.

The air fills with screams.

Amber is thrown backwards, her back slamming into one of the swells of grass as the crew members around her are disarmed one by one. Nearby, Caspian fights the hold on his sword only to have it slam into his nose while a second force crumples his legs from beneath him. Edmund jolts back and forth tackling multiple beasts before colliding roughly with Drinian and sending them both to the ground. In mere minutes the group are defenceless and nursing various injuries, limps and cuts and smacks and whacks, internally accepting that leaving Tavros on the Dawn Treader was a big mistake. Their own weapons float in the air, gleaming tips balanced between their eyes.