~ by Hannah Skipper

Lucy sat by her bedroom window, head on the windowsill and arms folded beneath her chin. Her little window was open, but she didn’t care about the rain that came down in great sheets. She only stared blankly at the dark forest and the churning sea beyond.

After her disastrous meeting with Lord Highland, she’d fled to her room through the secret stairway so no one would see. She had sent the very concerned Myrrh out with orders to tell no one about the tears that had managed to slide down her face, while assuring her lady-in-waiting that she would tell all when she was ready.

The only one that the young queen hadn’t managed to make stand down was her faithful personal guard, an enormous sable-colored Cougar, named Concolor. He had given Lucy no choice but to let him stay, but she was hardly concerned because he wouldn’t tell anyone and the only ones he would allow in her room were her own siblings, so as long as they knew nothing, she’d have till dinner to compose herself.

Lightning flicked, thunder rolled, and rain slashed the castle, seeming to match the intensity of the queen’s tears. She just couldn’t understand why their dear friend wouldn’t tell her what seemed to be driving him mad. She mulled over the idea of sharing her feelings with her family—she knew they had a right to know—but somehow, she just wanted to cry first.

Suddenly, a particularly wicked crack of lightning exploded across the sky and Lucy saw, for the briefest moment, the dark form of something disappearing into the forest. She knew in an instant what it was, though she’d never in her life seen it before—the Ape had come to Narnia!

She scrambled to her feet, kicked away her chair, and leaned partway out her window, searching franticly and vainly for another glimpse—perhaps proof that she’d really seen what she thought she had, but it quickly dawned on her that she was wasting time. She had to get her horse and ride out to stop this menace that had truly come home to haunt them.

She grabbed the belt that held her dagger and cordial, and fastened it with shaking hands around her slim waist. Then she dashed to her door, flung it open, and promptly threw out her hands as she went crashing to the floor.

Both the queen and her guard scrambled to gain their feet. Lucy was anxious to get to the barns, and Concolor was equally anxious to know what had made her come flying out her door to trip over him.

As Cats are more nimble than Humans, the guard gained his feet and moved in front of her before she could find her balance and run for the stairs. He regarded her with steady unblinking eyes—body tense, as if he could smell a disaster unfolding.

“If I may, your majesty,” his voice rumbled low and steady, as if it were a purr. “Where are you going in such a frantic state—and with your war things strapped about you?”

She eyed the stairs that were so close, but the Cat was blocking her way. “The Ape, the Ape!” her voice was frantic. “I saw him—just now—outside my window, in the trees—I have to get—”

“The others, of course—we will rouse them and send out a party to stop the foul creature.”

“NO! There’s no time for that—I’m going now—NOW!” Why wouldn’t he move?

Concolor stood still for what seemed, to Lucy, like an eternity, though it was only a couple of seconds. Then he slowly, deliberately stepped back. She bolted through the open space, but was hardly past him when she was frozen by the most bloodcurdling scream she’d ever heard.

Her question, “What was that?” was lost to the slamming of doors and thundering of feet, paws, and hoofs coming towards them from every direction.

Susan, who had been in her room down the hall, dressing for dinner, was first on the scene. Her face was very white and she couldn’t find words to speak for just a moment, but in that moment, she lost her chance, because Peter and a whole company of armed Beasts arrived.

“What, in blazes, is going on?” Peter demanded at the top of his lungs.

Concolor regarded everyone with a sort of stately disbelief, as if they should all know what was going on, if they took time to think about it. “Her majesty,” he said, inclining his head towards Lucy, “has seen the Ape—just now—on our very shores.”

The Cat set his always no-nonsense, very cold gaze on Peter, and bowed his head. “Your sister didn’t think that there was time to go rousing up a company of warriors to ride out, but you know, my king—you all know—that Cats don’t need to knock on doors to attract attention.” He bowed his head again.

Peter turned a sickened gaze on his youngest sister. “Lu? Please tell me that your faithful guard has misunderstood your intentions.”

“Well, he didn’t!” she exclaimed. “And right now, while we’re all standing around here doing nothing short of nothing, that-that-thing is probably plundering—or worse!” Lucy spun around and yelled back behind her, “Well, not on my watch!”

“No!” Peter shouted.

“Lucy!” Susan screamed. 

Lucy paid no heed as she hit the stairs and promptly crashed into a soaked, dripping, and wild-eyed Edmund—who saved them from a tumble down the stairs only because his momentum was stronger than hers. He picked her up and carried her back to the stunned group standing outside her doorway.

“Where’s Lord Highland?” the younger king bellowed in a voice nothing short of thunder.

“Ed? Where in the world have you been?” Susan looked incensed. “Don’t tell me you had Gawain out in this—and what with Lu seeing the Ape—”

“Lord Highland is the Ape,” Edmund fired back in a voice that was something between a growl and a shout.

“What?” Peter was incredulous.

Susan gasped.

Lucy turned white. “That’s what he wouldn’t tell me?” she whispered.

“We’ll need to get Aherin and some other horses saddled,” Edmund said. “Thank goodness, I didn’t use Ajax much on our ride today—he’s not at all weary—in fact, I’d say he’s spoiling for a fight.”

Peter gave his orders quickly. Turning to the centaur closest to him, he said, “Abou-ali—take your sons to the northeastern gate—be fully armed.”

“Oh—Peter, no—” Lucy began, but Susan clamped a hand over her mouth and Peter didn’t seem to hear, anyway.

To his favorite Talking Hound, Laika, he said, “Round up the Hunt Pack—we’ll need good noses—I understand the Ape can move quickly. Bring a few mastiffs, in case there’s a brawl. Tell the Cats to be ready.” Laika almost smiled as she thought about giving Cats orders, and Peter almost smiled at the thought of the Cat/Dog rivalry that was typical, even in battles.

To Peridan, Peter said, “You round up some Talking Birds—Owls, for a night hunt, I think—then come to the barns. Ed and I and will get the horses and be waiting for you.” 

He turned to Susan, who still had her hand clamped over Lucy’s mouth—not to mention the other arm wrapped around the young queen’s shoulders, in a sort of wrestling hold. “You and Lu stay here,” his tone came out short, but he and the others were already moving towards the stairs. 

Lucy, who didn’t like the idea of hunting their friend, looked as if she might like to bite Susan’s fingers in order to be allowed to say something, but she didn’t.

At the top of the stairs, Peter looked back over his shoulder at them. “We’ll do everything we can to bring him back alive.” 

Then they were gone.

“Well, that just stinks!” Lucy growled in frustration, when all got quiet. “Maybe I could have talked to him! Maybe I could have—and now they’re going to kill him.” She turned white again and clasped her face with cold quivering fingers. “I talked with him this afternoon. Our dear friend…” she said with a sob.

“Stop it, Lucy!” Susan commanded sharply. She didn’t like the idea that they may need to kill their friend, either. “Peter just said they would do everything they could to spare his life. Goodness knows, I should have questioned you more yesterday-today, and I’m sorry I didn’t—I knew something was bothering you. We just—just—just need a diversion to pass the time!”

Lucy scowled skeptically. “Like what?”

Susan didn’t even have to think about it. “Come on, let’s go find Gawain and keep him company—he must be in a state.”

Lucy agreed.

~

Ten minutes later, Susan knocked softly on the door to Gawain’s tiny little room. There was no response.

She knocked again. “Gawain?” she called quietly. “Its Queen Susan and Queen Lucy—please open the door, dear. We’re not here to harm you—or scold you—for keeping the secret.” Still no reply. “We’ve only come to keep you company while-till things get settled.”

The two queens exchanged worried looks, and Lucy quietly turned the knob. The door swung open with the strangest creaking sound. The two queens peered inside. The torch light from the hallway threw their shadows across the room, but Gawain was not there.

The two queens exchanged another look.

“You don’t supposed Ed got so worried about us—the Ape—that he went too fast for Gawain to keep up, do you?” Lucy asked.

“No.”

Wondering what they should do, Lucy swept her gaze back and forth along the hallway and noticed light coming from Lord Highland’s room. She shivered and called Susan’s attention to it. The queens cautiously headed down to hall to investigate.

They found the door ajar and Susan peered through the tiny crack, then stepped back and motioned for Lucy to do the same. A relieved smile slowly spread across the young queen’s features—Gawain was rummaging though some of the governor’s trunks at the back of the room.

The queens shoved the door back and its loud creaking made the little boy nearly faint from fright, but Susan was quick and made a diving catch of his head. 

Lucy peered over him worriedly. “Are you alright, Gawain? We certainly didn’t mean to frighten you. Do you think he’s alright, Susan? I could run and get my cordial, if you don’t think he is.”

“No, no, I think he’ll be just fine on his own in a minute.” She slid her hands under his shoulders and pushed him upright. “There now, take some deep breaths, you look frightful child—though I don’t doubt that you have reason to. You’re soaking wet—you haven’t changed out of your riding things—that won’t do. Lucy, go back to his room and find a dry tunic and pants—do hurry. This boy is in a trance.”

Lucy was gone the next moment and Susan and Gawain stayed seated on the floor till she returned a few minutes later. Then the queens exited and Gawain roused himself enough to put on the dry things with numb fingers and a blank expression. With that taken care of, Susan ordered them upstairs for refreshments and a quiet place to talk things over.

They arranged themselves on a small lounge, around a small table beside a crackling fire. The flames, being the only light in the room, made shadows dance across their faces and around the room. Gawain dug his toes into the deep red carpet, snuggled into the blanket that Susan tucked around his shoulders, and accepted a mug of steaming hot chocolate from Lucy.

“Did you enjoy your ride with Edmund, dear?” Susan asked, to try and get him talking.

“Most of it, yes, your majesty.” Gawain was shy now, not really familiar with these two beautiful girls, and ashamed about the trouble he figured that he’d caused. His eyes roamed the walls and he felt as if the paintings of long ago kings and queens stood accusing him.

“You needn’t feel ashamed, dear,” Susan coaxed. “You’re not in trouble—our only desire is for you to relax and feel safe within our home. You look like death, child. Maybe you should just rest.”

“Where is Lord Highland now?” he asked.

Susan shook her head. “I don’t know where our friend is—perhaps he himself doesn’t know where he is.  Our brothers have taken some men and Beasts and are scouring the countryside for the Ape—we shall call him that, for he is certainly not the man we came to love and trust when we came here.” She gave Gawain’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “Don’t worry, dear. We’re confident that they will find this Ape and we will discover what has happened to our friend.”

Gawain snuggled deeper into the blanket.

“Where did you go on your ride?” Lucy asked in an attempt to push the subject back to more cheerful things. “Did you meet anyone?” 

At that, Gawain brightened up a little and soon got rolling to tell them about how friendly everyone was and how much he had enjoyed the wooded path that they had taken and how different it was from the windswept Felimath or the bustle of Narrowhaven. He finished off his narrative with an account of the young squirrel and holding on for dear life as Galathe had tried keeping up with Ajax on the ride home.

Both queens cringed a little, but Gawain said that now that he could look back, it was actually pretty thrilling and he might like to do it again sometime.

~ 

Peter’s small contingent moved as noiselessly as possible through the gate. They had no idea what to expect, but Peter suspected that if any of the real Lord Highland remained within the Ape, he would be traveling very fast in order to get away from them. The real Lord Highland wouldn’t fight them; Peter just didn’t know how much of his friend might remain. They would have to find him first.

Laika and her Pack fanned out into the dark woods under flickers of lightning and the sounds of waves battering the coast. The Cats disappeared into the trees, paying no heed to the moaning wind and creaking limbs as they hunted. Owls winged about as if they might have been acrobats. The centaurs and men on horseback traveled more slowly, as rain-slicked moss, dense underbrush, weapons, and armor made it a slow go for them.

“It sure would be a lot easier to travel without all this armor and gear,” Peridan muttered tensely, as he swept aside underbrush with his sword and moved his mare cautiously forward.

“It’d be a lot easier for me if I could understand what has happened to my friend,” Peter replied grimly.

Edmund, who was almost swept off his saddle as Ajax shoved through some low branches, growled, “Blast—knock that off, Ajax—why don’t you behave yourself!” He yanked his horse away from the tree.

“I FOUUUUUND! I FOUUUUND!” The voice of the baying hound, Gabriel, rose hauntingly and mingled with the sounds of the storm. Soon the other Dog’s voices consolidated with his as one bone-chilling mass. The Ape’s scent had been located.

Peter, Edmund, Peridan, and the centaurs moved as quickly as possible, but the others forged ahead. Their voices were soon all but lost to the sounds of the storm.

“Dashed—I can’t hardly make out where they are.” Peter frowned as he ducked under a thick limb.

No one replied. They only concentrated on moving forward.

Suddenly and very close by, a Cat’s shriek cut through the other noises like a knife. The horses spooked and nearly lost their riders, but once they were controlled, all plunged through the last bit of underbrush to reveal a ring of Talking Animals surrounding a very haggard man, who had fallen to his knees weeping.

“I’m not worthy to serve anymore,” the man sobbed. “Take my life now—I’m not worthy.”

Peter dismounted and walked slowly towards, not the Ape, but Lord Highland. He held out a hand to help the Governor to his feet.

“Shall we go home and talk things over, old friend?” Peter asked quietly.

Chevre burst into the lounge. Susan and Lucy were chatting quietly to pass the time, and Gawain, exhausted from his day, slept with his head propped against Lucy’s arm and his legs sprawled out in front of him.

“They’ve found him, your majesties!” she cried out excitedly, almost beside herself with happiness. “They’ve found him!”

In the glowing embers of the fire, Lucy’s face turned a few shades paler and Susan busied herself reassuring the startled Gawain. 

Chevre realized that she had behaved improperly. She calmed down and started to back out of the room. “Um-uh, begging your pardon, your majesties,” she said with a bow of her head. “I didn’t mean—and I’m terribly sorry for—”

“Does my lord live?” Lucy blurted out, before Chevre could leave the room.

“Yes, your majesty—your brothers are waiting for you both in the drawing room.”

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