SALVATION

That had all been a week ago. The effects of the Queen's food was still with him, disturbing his thoughts and weakening his will. He had not eaten since.

But for now, Tumnus was attending a clandestine little Yule Party.

After nearly having turned back, he tried to lift his spirits a little as he trotted down the red cobbled street towards the dwarfs' door, a large black umbrella hooked over one arm, his tail over the other.

The parcels dangling from his shoulders banged into his hips. Small morsels of exotic foods mostly, which he had been able to buy using the proceeds of his payments from the White Witch, Queen Jadis.

As no-one could get into Narnia from outside, especially humans, and as a rule, no-one from Narnia could get out, it was a tricky affair to get items from the outside world at all. From the lands of summers and rich autumns… Tumnus shivered with yearning for such unattainable sensory delights. Rumour had it that there were even lands to the far south that lived in a perpetual state of heat, some dry, some wet with sun, fruit, nuts and leaves in abundance. Despite his fear and hatred of the Queen, it really would be worth his while if he managed to blunder into a daughter of Eve or a son of Adam. Narnia would have spring again!

The main source of their black market treats was their border of Archenland. Hundreds of mountainous miles of border country. There were meant to be descendants of Old Narnia living in Archenland who had set up catapults. From these they threw bundles of food and clothing and bedding over the border into Narnia in the hope that they would be picked up by people in need or who could deliver it to those who were. They had been doing it for generations once they had all realised that no living person could cross the border in either direction.

However, the rime wardens set by the Queen spent a considerable effort in reaching the bundles first and they almost certainly distributed their findings amongst their own kindred. These included the Spectres, the Woses, the Werewolves, the Hags and the Minotaurs. But enough got through to the faithful, that at times like now, the day of the Winterfather, there were still a few treats to share with each other.

Tumnus had acquired a pot of marmalade which he intended to give to his old friends the Beavers and some flour and real butter he was giving his hosts. It was from the Queen he had acquired a large jar of sardines, but these, thank goodness, were real and not produced by wishful thinking and her dreadful potions. He had packed some carefully in a clay pot sealed with wax and wrapped it in birch bark. He was giving this to his friends, the fiery red satyr and the red foxes who shared a cave not far away from this little hamlet. There were also numerous small food items for the forest creatures he was expecting to see there.

Tumnus rapped on the door and it was opened smartly by one of the dwarf daughters, young Appledore. She smiled cheerily and invited him into a tiny front hall that was lamplit. She locked the door, winked and then ushered him down into the hill holding his hand, her lamp bobbing along lighting the way in the narrow passages.

"You're the last one to arrive you see. We couldn't start until you got here safe and sound of course", she added kindly.

She blew out the lamp and they were plunged into darkness. Tumnus gave a gasp.

"Don't worry, this is just to keep everything secret so you can't be questioned about the ways into the deep places of our warren" she said kindly. She then turned Tumnus around and around several times so he would lose all sense of direction.

Tumnus heard her unlock a door. They stepped through and then she locked it again. Holding his hand, Appledore guided him with sure-footedness and a steady hand along a stony uneven path, up and down many times, round corners, down some steps and once, he was sure across the edge of an echoing chasm.

Appledore finally pulled to a stop, unlocked another door, pulled him through, locked it again and then she finally lit her lamp again. Just a few yards away was another door. Appledore scuttled up to this and rapped a complex staccato. It must have been a code.

Open the door swung, and Tumnus found himself delightedly being pulled into a warm glowing cave festooned with holly and red cloth flags, accompanied by cheers of "good old Tumnus!". There was a mixed company of dwarfs; a few satyrs; the red foxes and their daughters; a family of squirrels, several robins and blue tits and to Tumnus' lasting delight a green spruce tree, ten feet high, set with little candles and dangling with exquisite little pieces of cut crystal, amethyst, garnet and amber, catching the light. It was magical, beautiful and full of friendship.

Tumnus eyes filled with tears and he fell to his haunches, blinking wetly, thankful that Narnia could still be a land of such wonder and love.

He was helped up with many hands and warm words of encouragement.

There was a large hearth burning merrily and at a special part of the evening, onto this was placed an honest Yule Log, beautifully dried with its ends carved into the laughing face of the Winterfather.

It was as this began to catch in the flames, that gifts were exchanged. The Red Satyr had carved for Tumnus a beautiful forked Narnian pipe which, Tumnus immediately began to play, dancing with his friend around the spruce tree, joined by Appledore and her mother beating a complex rhythm on their tambors. And so the evening went on, full of jollity.

Everyone except the birds had enough to eat and a little too much to drink, certainly more than there were used in this land of snow. The Red Fox stood on his hind legs and holding his cup between his paws tried to make a long and dreary speech but fell over before he was finished. For there was eggnog and elderflower wine. From where it all came was a secret. To Tumnus it all tasted like ambrosia or the nectar of the fireflowers of the sun and he had to steady himself and drink melted snow for a little to find himself again.

It was some time after ten o'clock that some bestirred themselves to start heading home. Most of the dwarfs were all staying where they were, or trekking back up to the main dwelling, and they begged Tumnus to stay. But he tearfully backed out of this kind and heartfelt offer. He knew that his best chance of returning home without being noticed was to do so at night.

So he and others who were leaving packed up their beautiful presents into parcels again. Tumnus strung some over his shoulders and was embarrassed to find that he had rather a stack of bulky parcels to balance. He had been the luckiest of all.

Tumnus needed help to get them all through the dark maze of tunnels, but once he was up in the main dwelling he thought he could manage alright. It was only three miles to his little cave.

So he wrapped his red scarf tightly about his neck and carefully draped his tail so it would not drag. Then the door was opened and out he stepped into the night with a whispered goodbye as the parcels were stacked in his arms. There was a half-moon to light his way and a little light snow was falling.

The party had given him some much needed Narnian courage, so he decided to go by way of the glade of the lantern. It wouldn't do to bump into anything on the way home and drop his precious parcels. He needed all the light he could get.

So it was, that about half an hour later on that snowy night, as he entered the glow of the perpetual lantern, he saw something that startled him so much that he did indeed drop all his parcels.

"Goodness gracious me!" exclaimed the faun.

FINISH