A/N: I couldn't resist the clamor from you lovely, lovely readers for this story to be told, so it's finally here! It took a while for me to write this because I had to do some research while I milk my imagination for fresh ideas. I don't know if I went a bit OoC here with Edmund, but it's the best I could think of to keep it a comedy. Again I appreciate your comments.

The Great Galman Escape

"On a visit to Galma, the king's niece had sought to entrap Edmund into marriage by appearing naked at his feet when he woke up. She managed to get false witnesses for their "affair" and raised quite an outrage but Edmund somehow managed to worm his way out of it without creating a diplomatic nightmare." – Queen Susan's Marriage

Chapter One

Entrapment

King Edmund gave the man in armour across him a piercing look and felt the corners of his own lips widen.

Fear,he thought. His opponent just wreaked of it, Edmund could sense it twenty feet away. He carefully lowered his visor. The signal came and he let his horse, Philip, charge. With expert skill, Edmund thrust his lance and it hit precisely where he wanted to: the left side of the chest area uncovered by a shield. The force of his blow sent the opposite knight flying from his horse and falling to the ground.

Edmund whipped around and raised his lance as the crowd around him cheered. He lowered his lance after a full minute.

"That short Edmund? They're still cheering!" mocked Philip.

"Oh, I don't want to bask too much after I've unseated all of their best knights," Edmund replied, pretending to be humble, though he knew his horse didn't buy one word of it. Philip snorted.

"Alright fine," said Edmund and raised his lance again to thunderous applause. "But only because that last chap is that annoying crown prince who keeps sending Susan a dozen crummy love letters every week," he added, though deep inside he was reveling at his victory. He just won another jousting championship, his fourth, actually. It would have been a seven peat if Peter had not beaten him in the three straight years that he joined in the tournament. He seems to be the only contender that could best Edmund now. Fortunately for Edmund, in the last four seasons, his older brother had been too busy with other matters at home to be bothered into entering the two-week long annual jousting tournament of the Alliance of Eastern Ocean Nations.

Edmund and Philip approached the dais where the King of Galma, Lycurgus and his brother Duke Pentheus were waiting to proclaim him winner. The King didn't look too happy. It was after all his son that Edmund just defeated and sent away to the physician. Nevertheless, Lycurgus managed to perform his duties and pronounce him graciously (but with difficulty) as the champion.

Edmund dismounted from Philip, removed his helmet and came face to face with a girl a few years younger than himself. She was squinting at him again and Edmund fought the urge to back away.

For the younger King of Narnia, his first meeting with Penthea, Duke Pentheus' daughter, could only be described as "cringe at first sight." For some odd reason, he found her unnerving and it wasn't just because she had too many pimples and had a cackling laugh. There was something about her that he simply didn't trust. Shortly after introductions, she dropped her handkerchief directly at his path, expecting him to pick it up for her. Edmund was already familiar with such tactics and promptly sent Binky, the cat to retrieve it for him and hand back the fallen article to its owner. Apparently, the countess wasn't used to talking animals and promptly shrieked.

Still, that didn't deter her. For days, she tailed him like a shadow with petty excuses like bringing him sweets or just wanting to wish him good luck on his next match. Edmund normally tolerated such antics with girls. At times he even flirted back—kissed a girl's hand, picked up a handkerchief, called someone 'lovely' or asked more than one dance at a ball. But he always made sure he kept his distance and never gave them full encouragement. In Penthea's case, Edmund opted to completely ignore her. Yet the Countess appeared to be as daft as her eyesight was poor. She had a nasty habit of popping in and out at unexpected places, trying to catch him alone at unguarded moments. And just the other day, it took all of Edmund's self-control not to run her through with his sword when she walked in on him in his tent while he was half undressed after a match and offered him Turkish Delight. It was rather fortunate that Mr. Tumnus had entered at that moment and sent her running out. Apparently, the Countess, like most of the superstitious Galmans distrusted fauns and any other magical creature for that matter. Since yesterday, he stuck to Mr. Tumnus like glue, hoping the presence of the faun would discourage her from coming too close. And it did work, until now of course when he was forced to come near her again. She was the bearer of the laurel crown that was meant to be put on his head.

Edmund reluctantly knelt down before her and kept his gaze on the ground. But Penthea cupped his chin with her clammy hand to tilt his head up to meet her face. Edmund defiantly avoided her gaze until she was forced to place the laurel crown on his head and let him go.

"Hail this year's champion for the fourth straight year, King Edmund of Narnia!" Pentheus shouted. He sounded a lot more jovial than his brother. The crowd echoed his cry and Edmund's cheeriness returned. He acknowledged the crowd with a humble salute of the hand.

"A crown of laurels is too little a reward King Edmund," continued Pentheus. "What say you to another prize? A kiss from a maiden of your choice among those present?"

Edmund was too much in jolly spirits that he readily nodded. He regretted it a moment later when he realized, there were no other maidens present in the immediate vicinity aside from Penthea. He glanced desperately at the crowd. All he could see were men, old women, children, and his own Narnian escorts who were an assortment of talking creatures and fauns.

"Ahem," Pentheus cleared his throat. His head was nodding slightly to the direction of his excited daughter.

Edmund pretended he hadn't noticed but he was deliberating hard as he glanced at a distant tree. "Semele!" he finally called.

A sudden breeze quickly blew by and a cluster leaves came hurtling right in front of Edmund, blocking him from Penthea. The leaves gathered together until they formed a womanly figure.

"You called, my King?" asked the wood nymph before him.

"Would you honour me with a kiss, sweet nymph?" he asked.

"The honour is mine," she replied before drawing his face closer to her own with her soft hands until his lips met hers. She tasted like fresh dew and Edmund let his lips linger on hers a while longer than he intended. She was his favorite nymph and was the only one who willingly accompanied him on short sea voyages whenever he asked—not that he would ask any other.

"Thank you, dear," he said when they parted. Edmund caught a glimpse of Penthea. She looked like she wanted to kill someone, though the anger in her face was competing with fear at the creature that was now dissolving back into a cluster of leaves before her eyes.

Edmund turned to King Lycurgus and said his usual thank you speech for the two-week stay. He purposely avoided Pentheus, then quickly rejoined Mr. Tumnus and his Narnian escorts who were cheering him on his victory. They proceeded together into Galma's palace where they were given one last farewell feast by the King along with the other knights from the other kingdoms that competed. All of them were departing tonight, but Edmund and his Narnian party had decided to stay in Galma until tomorrow.

"One more night," said Edmund to Mr. Tumnus, as they sipped their last cup of wine before they retired to bed. "It will be wonderful to come home to Narnia again. It will be a fresh change of company."

Mr. Tumnus nodded. "Yes, a nice change indeed."

The Galmans were hospitable enough to their guests but they tend to avoid all contact with the talking beasts and magical creatures that accompanied Edmund. In addition, they were a serious people who cared far too much about work. Even their feasts had a dreary atmosphere to it. The music was far too somber, the wine too bland and the talk dealt too much on dull matters. Their clothes too, Edmund noticed, were far too uncomfortable for Narnian tastes. The men all wore stiff-necked collared shirts and tightly gartered trousers. The women looked like they were bound to the point of choking in their starched blouses from neck to waist. From their too little waists (Edmund suspected they wore some sort of constricting instrument underneath to keep such small figures) and down to the ground, they wore enormous skirts that had probably countless layers underneath. Edmund hardly saw any lady's feet, but on the occasion that Penthea lifted her skirt to him (a rather bold gesture among her people as they seemed to think a woman showing anything but her hands and head in public was a scandal), Edmund saw she was wearing shoes with spiked heels four inches high. He actually wondered how she could walk in such things. His own sisters always wore comfortably flat boots and slippers.

"I can't wait until tomorrow," said Edmund, thinking of the familiar comfort of home.

"Yes," replied the faun excitedly. "And just in time for the Ceresian Festival."

The Ceresian or Harvest Festival occurred every year in Narnia during the summer. It began on the first day of the harvest and went on for seven days. During those days, everyone in Narnia participated in gathering the produce and threshing out the corn and grain. Susan presided over all the activities as part of her duties as the elder queen. From early morning until mid-afternoon all of Narnia followed her as she led them through the fields and woods to gather the fruit and make thanksgiving offerings to Aslan for a good harvest. Afterwards, there was dancing and feasting until sunset. Edmund and his siblings always enjoyed the feast and next to Christmas, it was their favourite holiday.

Edmund gave Mr. Tumnus a knowing smile and clapped him on the back. "Oh yes, I'm sure that's what you've been waiting for."

Mr. Tumnus blushed. "Are you sure you don't want to join me this year? You and Peter are always invited, you know. And Semele's always asking for you."

Edmund shook his head. "No, Mr. Tumnus. As much fun as the 'other' festival is, I'll pass."

"I don't really quite understand why you never joined me again. I thought you enjoyed that evening."

Edmund just shook his head, dismissively. "I have my reasons."

That was his usual reply and Mr. Tumnus knew not to question him further. They talked of other matters for a few more minutes before mutually deciding to retire. Edmund proceeded to his guest chamber in the castle, while Mr. Tumnus left to go to a tent outside to join their other Narnian escorts. The non-human Narnians all preferred sleeping outdoors in their natural habitat as opposed to grand bedrooms in Galma's castle. Edmund would have rather joined them in a tent, but Lycurgus refused to have his special guest and Lord sleep outside his castle.

Edmund had no trouble settling in his bed. His spirits were running high at the prospect of the festival tomorrow. He shut his eyes but before his mind drifted off completely, he thought of a memory of Semele dancing in the moonlight, half hidden by shadows of trees. He could imagine the feel of her lips again and he made up his mind to find a way to steal a kiss from her during the festival. Maybe this time he would do it in daylight.

A cackling laugh pierced his ears and his heart jumped a mile. She was gaining on him!

He ran on but stopped abruptly at the sight before him. The fields ended at the edge of a raging river. But this river wasn't of water, but of wine. He stepped back, fearful of touching the red blood liquid that flowed in abundance. But just then another cackle ripped the night and he turned around.

There she was: Penthea in her short flowing dress and wild hair. Her eyes burrowed into him and he could see every one of her pimples throbbing and growing as if they had a life of their own.

"Ed-mund…" The way she said his name made his blood run cold. She licked her lips hungrily as she continued to stare at him.

"Stay back!" he warned. "Don't come any closer!" He reached down into his waist but found that his sword wasn't there. He was completely unarmed.

"I know you want me…"

"NO! Get away! I don't want you!"

She stepped nearer. "But you do… You just don't know it yet."

"No, I don't!" he yelled and stepped back. He was inches from falling into the river.

She advanced further and held out her hands. Her large pimple-infested hands!

Edmund moved back and lost his balance and he felt himself fall… fall… into the raging river of wine below that he knew would turn him mad. He tried to shout but no words would come out.

Suddenly he felt a hand grasp his chest and a warm body press to his back.

"Su…" he mumbled as he relaxed. It's just a nightmare, he thought though he didn't open his eyes yet. He was confident it was all over. His sister was here now. Any moment he would feel her fingers stroking his hair and her sweet voice singing him a Narnian lullaby.

He would never confess it, but he loved being comforted by his older sister whenever he had nightmares. He always pretended to be asleep whenever she came to sooth him so he wouldn't have to admit she let him do it.

He felt the fingers in his chest move to undo the buttons of his nightshirt and he was puzzled for a moment why Susan would do that when he startled by a wet kiss on his neck. Before he could react, he felt another one on his collarbone.

Wait a minute! I'm in Galma! Susan's at home in Narnia!

His eyes flew open and saw the face of the woman of his nightmares inches from his own!

Is this still part of my nightmare? Aslan's mane! Somebody wake me up!

"Good morning, your majesty," Penthea smiled. Edmund stared at her in abject horror as he thought: Hers was the smile that could launch a thousand ships… away from her port!

She backed away a little from him and Edmund could see a different view of her. A view he wished he didn't have to see for she wasn't wearing anything. It stirred him back to his senses and he hurriedly scampered off the bed away from her.

"What are you doing here!" he finally muttered as he tossed a pillow in her direction to cover her body from his sight.

Penthea cackled loudly. "I'm your prize, your majesty. My champion!" And she tossed the pillow away. Edmund quickly shut his eyes and grasped the end of the blanket to cover her.

"DON'T! Don't do that!"

"Y-you, you still refuse me! How could you be so cruel!" she cried. And in the next instant, she was bawling so loud, it was enough to wake up the entire castle.

Edmund jumped back into the bed, grabbed her by the shoulders and held a hand to her mouth to stop her. "Shut up! Someone will hear!"

But the Penthea bit his hand so he let go then shouted: "HOW COULD YOU LEAVE ME! YOU SAID YOU LOVED ME!"

"What?" cried Edmund startled, as he rubbed his bruised hand. "I-I never said anything—"

Edmund didn't get a word further. The door to his room, which he remembered that he forgot to lock the night before, burst open. Three pages and a chamber maid came rushing in and they looked in wide-eyed shock at the Narnian king and the Galman countess together in bed. Edmund suddenly realized his night shirt was unbuttoned halfway and he still had his arms around her. He quickly let go of her. But when he did, she started screaming again and this time she was hitting him hard across the chest with her fists:

"I WON'T LET YOU GO! YOU TOLD ME YOU'LL MARRY ME! YOU LIAR! AND I BELIEVED YOU! I BELIEVED YOU!"

Edmund tried to get up but she clamped on to his arms and hugged him to her. He heard hurried footsteps and alarmed shouting. When he managed to look up, there were half a dozen more people who had just entered the room. On impulse, he roughly pushed at Penthea. She fell back hard into the bed. Two of the maids rushed to her side.

"You brute!"

Edmund instinctively ducked as a fist came swinging at him. When he had moved to a safer distance he discovered the person that almost boxed him: Archelaus, Lycurgus' son and the crown prince of Galma.

"What has he done, cousin?" Archelaus asked as he hugged Penthea to him and covered her with the blanket.

"He's leaving me!" wailed the countess. "He's leaving me to go back to that monster he kissed yesterday! And after I gave him… everything!"

"What are you talking about!" Edmund demanded.

"Don't pretend you don't know!" Penthea shouted. "You deny me now? After we've been together for two weeks!"

"I haven't an inkling what you're talking about!" Edmund shouted back. Archelaus stood straight—well at least as straight as his injuries from yesterday allowed him—and eyed Edmund with fury.

"She's lying!" Edmund said to the prince and he turned to the growing number of servants who were crowding into the room. More and more appeared to be coming in. "All of you must have noticed I avoided her the whole time I was here."

Penthea snorted. "But not in your bed! I was here every night!"

Edmund couldn't help but laugh. The idea was just ridiculous. But he was the only one laughing. Half the castle seemed to be crowding into the room now. And he abruptly stopped laughing when the crowd moved aside and King Lycurgus and his brother appeared demanding to know what's going on.

Before Edmund could say a word in edgewise, Penthea was sobbing the same story to her father and uncle.

"That's a lie!" Edmund thundered. "I haven't touched her. I woke up just this morning with her in my bed! And you can't prove she was here any other time!"

"Oh yes I can!" she cried defiantly. She called for one of her maids. "Didn't you always see me come from his room every morning?"

The maid replied that she had without batting an eyelash. Another maid collaborated that she too had seen them together.

Edmund was aghast. It was a conspiracy involving probably every single person in the room but him. And he could provide no other witnesses for himself. He alone among the Narnians slept in the castle. The rest of his companions were always outside.

Sallowpad, the raven, suddenly flew in from the window and Edmund met his eye with a silent explanation to inform the others of his predicament. He flew back out to warn the others just as Pentheus rounded on Edmund.

"You dare defile my daughter!"

"What can we expect from an arrogant beast!" hissed Archelaus. "He's just like his worthless subjects! Animals all of them! We should have killed them a long time ago and taken over their land. And now we will, won't we father?" He stared harshly at Edmund. "This is war, fiend."

It took a few seconds for Edmund to register what the prince just said before. When it did, Edmund roared with laughter. The prince was either perfectly crazy or perfectly stupid.

"What are you laughing about?" Archelaus shouted.

"War?" echoed Edmund. "And how exactly do you plan on winning a war against Narnia?"

"We have an army!" boasted the prince.

"Oh what? Two companies of you palace guards? Add one more if you include all the peasants you could possibly train. Although I'm not sure if they'll last very long if I send in six centaurs and two tigers to charge at them at any given battlefield," replied Edmund. He knew his statistics very well and Galma had the least number of armed men among all of Narnia's vassals.

"Son," said Lycurgus evenly. "He's quite right. We are his vassal, precisely because we don't have an army. We pay tribute to them to protect us."

Archelaus looked confused for a minute but then went on: "But still… he can't just… I mean… I demand a challenge for his offense!"

Edmund crossed his arms and smirked at the prince. "Done," he said. "You and me. Your choice: hand-to-hand combat with a sword or another round with the jousting stick. After these last two weeks, I just got warmed up. I can go for another two if you want."

The prince's face fell and Edmund knew Archelaus was remembering he had just been defeated yesterday, for the fourth straight year. Edmund didn't have to remind the Galman prince that Edmund was also the second placer in the annual Narnian sword dueling tournaments for the last eight years (the champion was always Peter).

"Forgive my son for his impertinence." Edmund was startled at the gentleness and the relative calm in King Lycurgus' voice. "But Sir, I must protest. We may be a mere vassal of Narnia, but we expect better treatment than this from our Lord." Edmund could see not accusation but disappointment in his eyes and the Narnian King immediately knew that at least Lycurgus was not a part of this scheme.

Edmund met him with equal calm and with as much respect. "My Lord, on my honour as king, I swear to you, I have never touched your niece. This is all a plot."

Lycurgus didn't reply but merely shook his head.

The crowd on the doorway parted and Mr. Tumnus and the other Narnians pushed into the room, ready to fight for their king. Edmund motioned for them to do nothing.

"Your highness, you have to believe me," implored Edmund.

Lycurgus stared at the still sobbing countess before turning back to Edmund. "I think I know my niece better than you. If she said it is so, then it must be true. And I beseech you to do the honourable thing and marry her."

It was Edmund's turn to shake his head in disappointment. The king maybe truthful, but he was easily fooled and Edmund knew no amount of pleading or threats on his part could alter that.

"I am sorry," Edmund said firmly. "But I will not."

Penthea wailed even louder and Lycurgus bit his lower lip. "They say you are the Just king. Tell me where is justice here? Is it too much to ask to respect other nation's laws, customs and traditions? We value and respect our women here, King Edmund."

"And so do we in Narnia. We have always respected others' customs and traditions as long as they do not harm anyone else."

"Do you? If you truly do then you will do your obligation. Marriage is sacred to us. It is our tradition. Marry her and preserve that tradition. Prove that you respect other nations as you say you do."

Edmund gave a defeated sigh. Lycurgus had hit a nerve in him and he was out of ideas on how to get around it.

"I shall give you time to think about it," continued Lycurgus. He glanced uncomfortably at the half-naked Penthea and Edmund figured he was only too eager to get her decently dressed and away from this crowd. He ordered all his subjects out the room and had the maids take Penthea back to her own apartments. When they were gone, Edmund bid his own subjects to follow him outside. They went to Mr. Tumnus' tent and sat around a low table. Mr. Badger served them breakfast while Edmund related the whole tale.

"You do believe me, do you?" Edmund asked when he had finished.

"Of course, we do your majesty," said Sallowpad. "Anybody who has seen the countess and knows you would be insane to believe you would even come near her on your own volition."

Everyone laughed heartily at this and Edmund was glad to have such loyal friends.

"What do we do now?" asked the fox.

"Sail away of course," replied Binky. "King Edmund has no obligations to her and to the Galman king. Besides, if we don't come home now, we'll miss the Ceresian Festival."

Edmund thought about it, but shook his head. Maybe it was pride in him, but he didn't want to go away from Galma like a guilty man escaping his obligations. He didn't mind that he would be thought of as a defiler of women, it's the part about not honouring other people's customs and traditions that bothered him. If he couldn't prove his innocence, at least he wanted to get the king to withdraw the proposal himself without using the threat of brute force.

He sat in silence for a few minutes and sipped the wine he was offered. He remembered Susan being in some similar predicament years ago and she made a brilliant show of frightening the Potens King so he withdrew voluntarily.

He took a huge gulp of the wine and suddenly had an idea. Of course, certain sacrifices must be made and he would need a few reinforcements, but if it worked, he could not only get rid of Penthea but maybe get Achelaus off Susan's back as well. He stared across the table to Semele who was sitting in a corner. She met his eyes and gave him a smile. Edmund could think of another advantage to this scheme.

"Mr. Tumnus, could you take down a letter for me?" he said.

"Of course," replied the fawn as he reached for a quill and parchment. When he was ready, Edmund began:

"Dear Susan,

"I'm sorry to say I won't be able to come home for the Ceresian Festival this year."

"We won't?" asked Mr. Tumnus in surprise. All the other Narnians looked up and gave their attention to Edmund.

"No, Mr. Tumnus you won't and neither will Semele. I'll be needing you here. The rest of you can go home if you want to."

"Sire, we have sworn always to protect you with our lives," said Binky. "Whatever action you wish to take here in Galma, we would support it and we shall remain by your side."

The other magical creatures all uttered similar oaths to remain and Edmund was heartened again by their loyalty. He bid Mr. Tumnus to continue writing.

"Nothing to worry about. There are just certain things I needed to do here in Galma that compels me to stay on for a few more days. I will however, need the assistance of all the fauns, satyrs and the nymphs you can spare. Please send them over tomorrow by ship. In addition, I will need about 300 barrels of wine—"

"Three hundred barrels!" gasped Mr. Tumnus. "But King Edmund, that's the entire supply for the—"

"I am quite aware of that Mr. Tumnus. Don't fret. I know what I'm doing." He pointed back to the parchment.

"Please do this for me without question, Su. I promise to tell you everything when I get home. I might get there even before the festival closes. But if not, I'll make it up to you next year. Have fun without me. Give my love to our Magnificent Apollo and our Valiant Minerva. Edmund."

Edmund took the letter from Mr. Tumnus and signed his name at the bottom. He took another piece of parchment and hurriedly scribbled a second letter. He used wax and his official seal to fasten the letters and gave it to Sallowpad with instructions to take it to Narnia immediately.

"Tell them nothing of what happened here except what I've said in my letters," he told the raven. "I'll tell them all myself in time. It's no use worrying them, especially Peter. He's already got too much on his mind. Return here immediately."

He watched the raven fly off before returning into the tent to face the puzzled looks of his companions.

"Forgive me, King Edmund, but what exactly is your plan?" asked Mr. Tumnus, apprehensively.

"The plan," said Edmund as he picked up his wine cup and slurped it noisily. "Is that I'm getting drunk."

"I beg your pardon."

"Oh sorry, Mr. Tumnus, I said that wrong."

Mr. Tumnus breathed a sigh of relief.

"I meant, 'we.' 'We' are getting drunk." He passed his cup to Mr. Tumnus but picked up a fresh glass and poured a generous amount. He took a long gulp from it before swaggering over to Mr. Tumnus with a lopsided grin on his face in a mock impression of someone who was tipsy. "We're getting everyone drunk."

I might have taken some liberties with this but I have a wild imagination and I like to compare the Pevensies with the traits of some of the Roman gods. I like to think of Susan as motherly Ceres. Peter is Apollo, god of the sun, truth, civilization and healing. Lucy is Minerva (Athena in Greek), the goddess of war, wisdom, and purity.

And now for the pop quiz, it's an easy one:

Which god appears similar to Edmund in this story?

If you can answer this, you'll get an idea on what Edmund is planning. Here are some clues:

A modern philosopher once wrote that his traits are the opposite of Apollo and that he counter-balances Apollo's nature among the Greeks.

He has links with Ceres that figure significantly in this story.

He's part of Narnian canon.

I'll update as soon as I finish editing the next chapter. As usual, this is going to be another two chapter fic.