Daggers of Ice

Chapter 28

Where the Northern Lands Meet the Western Woods. 

Arianna.

At another time she would have scoffed at their startled expressions when she stumbled through the flap that served as the tent door.

But Edmund's weight grew heavy across her shoulders as she stumbled across the threshold, blood covering her body, tear-tracks streaked through the dirt and ash on her cheeks.

"Help him," was all that escaped her lips before her knees gave way and the darkness claimed her.

...

Peter.

The frost-fae, Eirwen, was the first to reach the Ice Queen, who was bloodied and dirtied – her clothes torn to mere shreds. He was shocked by the worry that marred the fae's delicate features, he had heard nothing but tales of how cold and uncaring they were.

But the queen lifted the young woman in her arms as if she weighed little more than a child, while Lucy ran to Edmund's side, her cordial to his lips in seconds.

Susan recovered next.

"ED!" she rushed to his side, her crimson gown pooling about her as she sunk to her knees, stroking his dark hair tenderly.

"Your Majesties, I must take my leave, my queen needs tending," Eirwen said tersely, her face unmarked by expression once more. Her gossamer wings were fluttering like a hummingbird's wings, her hands curled protectively around the young woman's body, the very air around her seemed to shimmer.

"I could heal her," Lucy said softly, looking up from Edmund's sleeping form. The cordial still uncorked in her hand.

The frost-fae shook her head; a small shake. "I do not believe your cordial will work on her," the smile that Eirwen offered was strained, forced, as if the expression were foreign to her. "But I thank you." She swept out of the tent, her feet a foot from the ground.

Peter stared at the spot she had vacated before going to kneel by their brother. "How is he?"

Covered in blood and dirt, Peter could not see the wounds, though his shirt was shredded beyond repair, all his weapons missing.

"He's barely holding on," Lucy said softly as she dabbed a wet cloth to their brother's forehead. His face had taken on a pale sheen, sweat rolling off his forehead. Lucy's eyes were anxious and pained; her lips trembling. His face was a patchwork of cuts and bruises, as was the rest of his body. He was bleeding from thousands of cuts, but they were superficial. "There is little more that I can do, he needs rest. He is in Aslan's paws." Blood-stained clothes barely covered his body; it was indiscernible what colour they had been before being coated in filth and dirt. His hair was a matted mess of chocolate locks.

"Do you think she did this to him?"

"She was exhausted Pete," Susan said softly, meeting his eyes over Edmund's still body. "Edmund is in no state to move; she must have carried him from wherever Corradyn's castle lies. I think they escaped."

Susan. Susan was defending Arianna.

Peter frowned. Why would she have done that? And why had she gone to rescue Edmund in the first place? The thoughts gnawed at his mind, unable to do anything but watch as Ed was lifted onto a stretcher and taken from the tent.

But he did not miss the soft whisper that passed through his brother's lips.

"Ari..."

And it was that, more than anything, which made dread steal through his body.

For he'd hoped infatuation had passed.

...

The Western Mountains.

Corradyn.

Corradyn snarled as he surveyed the damage the two had wrought. Fire blazed in his hands as he kicked one of the lifeless bodies that littered the courtyard, he spared barely a glance at the body of the serpent-woman who had toppled from the roof, her crimson scales blackened by fire. She had been so easily defeated by the Ice Queen, even in her weakened state.

He turned his gaze to Tynan, the black sorcerer who had once been Jadis's lover – scorned by Arianna. A man with a wounded ego, the easiest kind of man to manipulate. And it was pure disdain that burned in those obsidian eyes, disdain and hatred, and a desire for revenge.

"You let her get away," it was a simple fact that Tynan stated, for even he was not foolish enough to accuse the Sorcerer of the Flame.

"There will be another chance," Corradyn said, turning from the carnage. "High King Peter will not let this attack on his brother go without challenge. He will be furious when the Ice Queen returns King Edmund to them; he will want to avenge the boy. And when the Narnians attack in full force we will have them. For they will not take our castle and we will burn them all."

"What of Arianna? What if they stand together?" he could almost detect the scoff in the traitor sorcerer's voice.

"The dear High King of Narnia would never stand beside the one who is responsible for the death of hundreds of his men." Corradyn could have laughed, it was so perfect. While he may not have succeeded in taking Arianna as his own, the circumstances had given rise to an even greater opportunity.

He would not bow to him, he could see that now.

He could not simply weaken her in the hopes she would cave and join him.

She had chosen her side.

So no one else would have her.

He would destroy her.

He would burn them all.