"To where?"

"Over the realm of Calormen, brother, where the High King awaits for word of the enemy's plans and his second-in-command to join his side in his campaign. You would have to travel swiftly. I have selected five of our trusted and strongest men to join you .... and in no offence to the Old Narnians, only former Telmarines. You are to be in disguise as a young lord of Narnia instead of king as it is dangerous without our army and away from the borders of Narnia."

"Just... men? Why is that, Caspian?"

"It saddens me that Narnia is still the only place where talking beasts are acceptable, and away from Aslan's light, they are thought of as magical and unnatural. And magic to these strange lands are feared. Refrain from mentioning anything magical within those lands."

"Pity. Well, I will be ready in a few ticks-"

"I am going too, brother!"

"Su? Why ever for?"

"Peter needs a captain for his archers and I am capable of it."

"I am in no doubt about your talent, dear sister, but this is dangerous. We are going into a territory we barely know of even more than what lies past the Lone Islands."

"Our High Kings needs me, I think, even if he is too chivalrous to say so."

"Oh alright. Just make sure you tell Lucy before she throws a fit at being left out."


They thought that it was just another day in Camelot, right in the late season of spring where the chilled air still held a scent of flowers but with the warmth of summer making quick and short appearance carried by the strong breezes of Albion. Arthur, crown prince of Camelot, was out on patrol with a group his knights in the woods a few miles off of one of the villages at the outskirts of Camelot's boundaries when the attack happened.

It wasn't an attack per se, more of a stumble into the Camelot police that Arthur thought it was an ambush before he saw that what bounded between the trees and crashed in front of his crew were giant dogs, silvery white with smatters of grey and black in their unkempt and dirty but glorious fur. The dogs - wolves, Arthur realised with surprise that they would encounter such creatures in the woodland rather than in the higher altitudes of Albion - looked at them shockingly in an assessing nature rather than weariness that wild animals usually sport, when one of Arthur's guards drew out a bow and arrow from his pack. At that, the wolves set their teeth in a gutteral warning growl which in turn scared the horses into a frantic mess.

Arthur gritted his teeth as he tried to reign in his steed while trying to grab a hold of his sword on his side and he was certain the creatures knew what he was trying to do when one of them lunged at him at a speed he barely knew a creature that big was capable of doing , toppling him unceremoniously off of his horse before he could do more than dodge the sharp teeth aimed at his neck.

What came next was chaotic where Arthur tried his best to fight off the ferocious beast, his men doing the same with the other wolves, while dodging the skittish horses that they have not been able to push away from the melee. It was of no surprise that while minding the beast that attacked him, one of the horses crashed into the prince, knocking the young man to his knees. A little disoriented, he was just getting his proper grip back around his sword after that tumble when he found himself face to face with the fierce countenance of the wolf.

The moment that Arthur backpeddled away from the beast with his sword up in defence, the wolf made to lunge at him again but before it could even bring its hind legs off the ground, it came crashing down in an impressive way that Arthur could swear that the gound beneath him shook a little.

Imbedded in the wolf's back was a pair of arrows, red feather's shiny even in the forest light. But it took more than a few arrows to fall a beast that size because not long after the wolf was shakily but determinedly picking itself up. Arthur was so intent on the wild dog that he failed to notice the quick blur of motion behind the creature and in two winks, the head of the wolf came rolling on the ground in front of him, detached from its furry body.

When Arthur looked up, it was a young boy who was his rescuer and when the youth held out his hand to help him up, Arthur accepted, feeling more astounded by the boy's age that he has forgotten to feel slighted that someone years younger than himself saved him from probable death. The boy nearly staggered though, by Arthur's weight that the prince quickly held the boy to balance him, feeling the shift of wiry strength underneath the leather jerkin with pauldrons that the boy was wearing over his blue gray tunic.

The boy came with his own group of fighters, it seemed, because suddenly the human numbers was more than adequate to dispatch the other beasts from further injury to the men. But just as they thought that it has ended, one of the wolves jumped up from its defeated sprawl to quickly escape and the boy cried out, "Susan!"

A red feathered arrow flew towards the wolf and lodged itself into its neck, sending the already injured beast to its death.

Arthur looked back and saw a girl sitting calmly on her horse already cocking another arrow on her bow in preparation for any unexpected come-back.

"Alright Ed?"

"Yeah, thanks Su," the boy replied and the girl relaxed her grip, looking finally at the boy and Arthur.

"Are they dead?" the boy asked.

"Yes my Lord," one of the strange men announced.

"Alright?" the boy said, and it took a while before Arthur realised that the boy was adressing him.

"What? Oh yes..." Arthur replied, confused by the strangers' odd speech but understanding the meaning just the same. "You have my gratitude. It is strange to have wolves roam the woodlands, especially at this time of year. The villages will have to be warned..."

The boy blinked as he sheathed his sword into the scabbard hanging by his side. "Oh, they aren't from around here. We followed them from Narnia and I think we've gotten all of them before they reached their pack but you are right to be worried. Wolves don't normally attack people unless forced but in this case, wolves from Narnia attack when their master tells them to. Quite vicious, I'd say."

"Narnia?"

"Where we are from," the boy said distractedly as one of foreign fighters, dressed in a simple but more elaborate protective clothing of darker colour from the boy, brought forward a horse for the boy to look over.

"And you are?"

The boy looked at Arthur before breaking into a grin. "Oh sorry, where are my manners. It's Edmund, of Narnia. And this is my sister, Susan."

The girl jumped off of the horse and instead of curtseying like most female folk do when in the presence of a crown prince, she gave Arthur a slight bow in acknowledgement that seemed so regal that Arthur felt compelled to bow respectfully back in return.

"And I am Arthur, prince of Camelot." As he expected it did not take long for a look recognition to appear in their faces.

"Arthur of Camelot? Cor! In the flesh!" Edmund exclaimed, looking at Arthur in wonder.

"Oh do behave, Edmund," chastised the young girl, before turning towards Arthur with a smile. "It is a pleasure to meet your acquaintance, your highness. It is deeply regretful to have met your honour in such calamity."

After the uninhibited way of Edmund's common speech, Arthur was a bit taken aback when the boy's sister adressed him in a more genteel manner.
"It is of no loss, my lady. Especially when your brother and your courageous self saved us from these wild beasts. Although vicious, they are magnificent and I'd gather would make good hunting sport in different circumstances," said Arthur as he turned to look at the furry corpses that his men were busy looking over. The prince was half thinking of bringing one to show to his father, but now that the creatures were dead, it looked like other ordinary wolves one could find in the higher lands of Albion rather than the dangerous beast Arthur was nearly mauled by.

But Arthur's attention was quickly brought back towards the siblings when one of the Narnian fighters spoke up, bearing one of his companions who was leaning heavily on his shoulder. "Lord Edmund, Passarids is injured. It would be best that we find a place to heal his wounds before we set off any further."

Edmund's expression took on a grim countenance at his man's wound. "What I wouldn't do for Lucy's cordial."

"Edmund-"

At his sister's warning prompt, Edmund turned towards Arthur in surprise before smiling sheepishly. "Right."

To Arthur he asked, "Your highness, forgive us our presumptiousness if we ask that we be given directions to the nearest town with medicine and lodgings for our humble selves and our good men."

Arthur gave Edmund a piercing look before he said decisively. "The best medicine you will receive from our royal physician and while your man mends himself, you and your sister will stay in our castle as guests of the King, my father and myself. Your men will stay in the garrisson with our soldiers."

Edmund and Susan looked at each other for a long moment before Edmund finally spoke up. "We are humbled by your graciousness, your highness. But we would not want to be of any trouble..."

"Nonesense," Arthur said dismissively, "You fought the beasts for our safety and to assist in your recuperation is a show of our gratitude. Besides," and this the prince smiled at them charmingly, "after watching your sword fight, Edmund, I would be pleased if we have a proper spar and I know of a lady who would be happy to meet another of a talent in battle."

Edmund laughed while Susan smiled in indulgence. "Boys."