Fear: The Horse and His Boy

Chapter 7

"He that would find that way," the Raven said, "must start from the Tombs of the Ancient Kings and ride north-west so that the double peak of Mount Pire is always straight ahead of him. And so, in a day's riding or a little more, he shall come to the head of a stony valley, which is so narrow that a man might be within a furlong of it a thousand times and never know that it was there. And looking down this valley he will see neither grass nor water nor anything else good. But if he rides on down it he will come to a river and can ride by that water all the way into Archenland."

"And do the Calormenes know of this western way?" the Queen asked.

"Friends, friends," Edmund said, "what is the use of all this discourse? We are not asking whether Narnia or Calormen would win if war arose between them. We are asking how to save the honour of the Queen and our own lives out of this devilish city. For though my brother, Peter the High King, defeated the Tisroc a dozen times over, yet long before that day our throats would be cut and the Queen's grace would be the wife, or more likely, the slave, of this prince."

"We have our weapons, King," the first Dwarf said. "And this is a reasonably defensible house."

"As to that," the King said, "I do not doubt that every one of us would sell our lives dearly in the gate and they would not come at the Queen but over our dead bodies. Yet we should be merely rats fighting in a trap when all's said."

"Very true," the Raven croaked. "These last stands in a house make good stories, but nothing ever came of them. After their first few repulses the enemy always set the house on fire."

"I am the cause of all this," Susan said, bursting into tears. "Oh, if only I had never left Cair Paravel. Our last happy day was before those ambassadors came from Calormen. The Moles were planting an orchard for us ... oh ... oh." And she buried her face in her hands and sobbed.

"Courage, Su, courage," Edmund said. "Remember—but what is the matter with you, Master Tumnus?"

For the Faun was holding both his horns with his hands as if he were trying to keep his head on by them and writhing to and fro as if he had a pain in his inside.

"Don't speak to me, don't speak to me," Tumnus said. "I'm thinking. I'm thinking so that I can hardly breathe. Wait, wait, do wait."

There was a moment's puzzled silence and then the Faun looked up, drew a long breath, mopped its forehead and said:

"The only difficulty is how to get down to our ship—with some stores, too—without being seen and stopped."

"Yes," a Dwarf said drily. "Just as the beggar's only difficulty about riding is that he has no horse."

"Wait, wait," Mr. Tumnus said impatiently. "All we need is some pretext for going down to our ship today and taking stuff on board."

"Yes," King Edmund said doubtfully.

"Well, then," the Faun said, "how would it be if your Majesties bade the Prince to a great banquet to be held on board our own galleon, the Splendour Hyaline, tomorrow night? And let the message be worded as graciously as the Queen can contrive without pledging her honour: so as to give the Prince a hope that she is weakening."

"This is very good counsel, Sire," the Raven croaked.

"And then," Tumnus continued excitedly, "everyone will expect us to be going down to the ship all day, making preparations for our guests. And let some of us go to the bazaars and spend every minim we have at the fruiterers and the sweetmeat sellers and the wine merchants, just as we would if we were really giving a feast. And let us order magicians and jugglers and dancing girls and flute players, all to be on board tomorrow night."