With Courage [Prince Caspian]

Chapter 14

The air holds its breath as we approach the island, passing underneath a thundering waterfall and down a conveniently Dawn Treader sized river between towering rocky mountains. Not a single person speaks on the deck, all craning their necks to see what lies beyond the cliffs we're nestled within.

We arrive, as Drinian predicted, in the middle of the night. Men raise their lanterns high above their heads, pockets lined with spare matches, but it's an unnecessary precaution. We're not bathed in darkness here, the blue star illuminates everything with a deep marine glow. It may still be dark but we're not blind. For now.

The ship stops on its own accord, the gangway lined up with a thick, sloping tangle of roots that brush the edge of the ship and dip down to level ground, smoothing out into a dirt path marked with an archway enclosed with willow trees. The branches glide open, inviting us in.

Caspian and I share a glance, this magic new to us both, and prepare to exit with the others. Neither of us mention how we were stood with my shoulder leaning against his chest and his hand on my arm, or how we continue to walk closer than necessary.

A few hours after we first lay under the stars, the lookout yelled down towards the men at the wheel and sent one of them to Drinian to inform him that we had arrived at Ramandu's island and we accepted, silently, that our time was up. Crew members emerged onto the deck minutes later laden with equipment and we faded quietly into the crowd, palms still warm and blanket abandoned to the side.

Now we make our way through the island, up blanketed woodland paths that shatter the blue light into shards across the tree roots, our larger surroundings always cloaked by nature or bathed in shadow. All we can tell is that we're heading up.

We cross a stone bridge guarded by eroded stone birds twice the size of Reepicheep and crawling with weeds that glisten curiously in the light. I look over the side and see nothing but darkness. While the other men continue on with light steps, I drop a loose stone into the gaping nothingness to strain to hear it land. It never does.

It takes us an hour, with a few more curiously sentient trees to direct us down the correct path, to reach the peak of the island. At the top of a steep incline is a tree with two trunks that arch into a doorway and twist high towards the stars. Beyond the archway is a chamber.

At least, it was a chamber at some point in time. Now only the floor and the left wall remain intact, with the far end being blocked off by a large willow tree and the right side showcasing a 330ft fall off an unforgiving cliff-side. Other than the rocks standing tall like a shark's awaiting jaws, the view was magnificent. In the centre of it all was a grand table laid with more food than I could ever imagine, but the mouth-watering sight was marred by the hulks of tangled tree branches at the end of it all.

Drinian commanded everyone to wait as Edmund approached the shapes, painting them in the glow of his flashlight. Lucy gasped and several men drew their swords at the sight of the bearded men caught within the branches. My heart seemed to stop beating entirely at the sight – was that going to be us? Were there people lurking in the shadows waiting to ambush us?

Edmund's light travelled down towards their hands laid flat against the table and Caspian advances suddenly. "They're Lords." He says breathlessly, taking the flashlight to focus on their rings.

An obsidian star set in silver. "Lord Revillian."

An intricately woven knot of gold. "Lord Argoz."

A simply outlined crescent moon. "Lord Mavramorn."

He stares closely at the face of Lord Revillian, sat closest to him. "They're still breathing." He remarks.

Drinian knocks an apple from Tavros's paw and crushes it under his boot. "Don't eat the food! That could be what got them into that damn state."

"Caspian – Their swords." Edmund claws within the net of roots spanning the table and removes a blade identical to the ones slung at the hips of him, Caspian and Lucy. He digs further and points towards a smaller knife. "It's the stone dagger... This must be Aslan's table!" He and Caspian retrieve the swords and place their own beside them on the table.

"There's still one missing." I say, coming to stand by them.

But it was supposed to be here. This was it – this was the end, wasn't it? I run a frustrated hand through my hair and tug. Could it be elsewhere on the island? Do we have to wait until morning and search? It'll be like a needle in a bloody haystack. Brilliant.

"Look." Lucy exhales, staring between the canopy of trees.

An insubstantial shape glowing a fierce ice blue floats down from its perch in the sky. I step forward absentmindedly but get stopped by Caspian's hand resting against my wrist. He draws his second sword and watches as it lands gracefully beside the table and takes formation.

"Travellers of Narnia, welcome." It, or rather, she says upon landing. Her face, small and soft, was framed by hair as white as freshly fallen snow and contained the same curious glitter despite the fact our main light source was, well, her. "Are you not hungry?" She asks when no one responds.

"Who are you?" Asks Edmund, lowering his sword.

"I am Lilliandil, daughter of Ramandu." She smiles. "I am your guide."

"You're a star?" Caspian asks. When she nods, I look to the sky, noting an important distinction. She's not just a star, she's the star.

"Please, the food is for you." She glides beside the table, the trail of her ivory gown hovering almost imperceptibly above the ground. "There is enough for everyone at Aslan's table. Help yourselves."

"Wait! What happened to them?" Edmund points towards the enchanted Lords and her expression turns solemn.

"These poor men were half mad by the time they reached our shores. They were threatening violence upon each other, which is forbidden at the table of Aslan, so they were sent to sleep." At that, the crew dig into the feast, no longer fearing an eternal slumber. "They will wake when all is put right. Come, there is little time."

She approaches the willow tree and the leaves separate to reveal a dimly lit path. As I head to follow her, Edmund and Lucy, Caspian stops me with regret. Before I can even protest, he jumps in.

"I promise I will tell you everything." He hurries to say. I roll my eyes and smile lightly.

"So many promises..." Is that number five now? Six?

"And have I broken a single one?"

He's got a point. I cross my arms. "There's still time."

He lays a hand on my arm and leans in, grinning. "Time I will use making more promises that I will continue to keep." He nods to the feast. "Save me some." The willow closes behind him and I shake my head with a huff of a laugh before taking a seat between Marco and Kiers at the table.

There's almost too much choice. Richly stuffed meats and fish dressed in sweet sauces, fruits carved into boats and wine in goblets shaped like flowers in bloom; the latter of which I ignore responsibly. I settle for a slice of pecan pie that has been uniquely shaped as a resting dragon, sending a silent apology to Eustace – forced to find level land at the edge of the island far below us – in the process.

No matter how much we eat, the food never seems to end. Rum refills in blinks and grapes restore in breaths, and we keep eating, powerless to know when we may taste such sweetness again. By the time Caspian, Lucy and Edmund return, expressions far grimmer than they were before, Tavros has devoured three peacocks and acts all too eager to continue.

Drinian stands and a hush falls over the men, halting Marco's retelling of a dream he had involving his transformation into a dufflepud. "What happens now, Your Majesty?" He asks.

Caspian spares a glance over his shoulder through the willow to where I can glimpse a dash of green amongst darkness before meeting the Captain's eyes.

"We prepare for battle."

Did I end the chapter there because I was imagining a dramatic zoom in on Caspian's face that would then immediately cut to a black screen? Abso-fucking-lutely. But also it didn't fit into the flow of the next chapter, which is already shaping up to be really long, which is why this one is so short. It's like a stepping stone, in a way.