Author's Note- Hey, this is my first story EVER, so I hope you like it. Feel free to review, and I don't mind criticism. I probably have made errors, so if you spot any, please let me know. THANKS

Disclaimer- I could never live up to the awesome name of Clive Staples Lewis, so no, I regretfully do not own Chronicles of Narnia.

Rated- T

Thanks- Every chapter is edited by my best friend, AzianXPersuasion, and I would really like to thank her for that. She was out of town this week, and even then she was able to read my chapter, edit it, and send back all her comments via Email and Text message, which was actually harder than it sounds. So Thanks!

Review- Thanks to everyone who reviewed. If I am going to make a comment on a specific person's review, it will be at the bottom of each chapter.

Summary- What would happen if Edmund was captured by the Telmarines on the night of the raid? Will he make it out alive? And will Peter finally come to terms with how he has been acting?

Chapter 8

Edmund didn't struggle against the three guards who pulled him down the hallway. His hands were bound which would make it harder to break free. It would only result in Edmund getting hurt, and he didn't want to waste his strength. Instead he brooded in silence, casually glancing around the castle but really memorizing hallways and escape exits. He already learned that there were seven levels to the castle, and the dungeons, of course, were on the bottom floor. The bottom level also had locked storage rooms, which Edmund suspected housed old weapons and food rations. There was a door at the edge of the stairs to the upper floors, and Edmund could tell that the soldiers locked it at night to keep prisoners from escaping.

Edmund was dragged up three flights of stairs. He took notice of how high windows were, and how big locks were on doors. He had estimated the size of Penna, and compared it to the doors and windows to see if she could fit. When they had been captured, they traveled through the front entrance of the castle, which was large and grand enough to fit Penna easily, but there was no way Edmund was going to risk going to the front entrance of the castle in plain sight. Edmund did notice that on the wall next to the staircases were big, stained glass windows with elaborate images. Edmund thought about the idea of breaking one of the windows and flying over the walls, and decided he would share the idea with Penna later.

The soldiers stopped on the fourth floor and led Edmund into a grand room the size of half a football field. Edmund turned his gaze upward to see the ceiling, which was at least 15 meters above their heads and had golden chandeliers dangling in different corners. Mirrors decorated the walls, and in the middle of the room was a throne. It was simple, but massive in size which signified its importance. There were twenty chairs that filed in two lines down the sides of the room, ten on each side. Most of the chairs were occupied by old men with grey beards, and Miraz himself was seated on the throne. General Glozelle was standing next to the throne with a hand on the hilt of his sword.

Edmund was shoved into the middle of the room and forced down onto his knees. The guards backed up, and Edmund immediately pushed himself onto his feet. The occupants of the room stared at him quizzically.

Edmund sighed. "I highly doubt I was summoned here at this hour just to have some old men stare at me. If there is something you want, out with it then!"

Many of the men appeared shocked, and some grew angry. Miraz raised himself off his thrown and walked to stand in front of Edmund, who smirked when he realized he was almost the same height as the man. Had Peter been in his place, he would have towered over the little Lord. Miraz sneered and backhanded Edmund across the face, knocking him onto the ground. "You will not stand, boy. Stay where you are seated or you will only inflict more pain on yourself."

Edmund hadn't cried out, and he didn't even dare touch the wound to give Miraz the satisfaction. He sat back on his heels, resting his bound hands on his knees. "I am quite sure you will inflict the pain on me anyhow, Lord Miraz," he replied coldly.

Miraz raised a hand to hit him again, but then thought better of it. "Indeed I will," the man said, circling Edmund cautiously. "But first you will tell me, what is your name?"

Edmund bowed his head. If he had replied immediately, Miraz would assume he was lying, so Edmund hesitated before saying slowly, as if he didn't want to give up the information, "Michael."

Miraz leaned in closer and scoffed. "A very strange name indeed. How would I know if you were telling the truth?"

Edmund laughed. "You don't."

Miraz replied icily, "Then why is there a reason to keep you alive?"

Edmund answered smoothly, "Because you want information, and the only way you can get it is through me."

Miraz stared at Edmund angrily. "I know you have the information I seek, and I will not stop until I get it. So tell me, Michael… what are the Narnians' plans? What are their battle strategies?"

Edmund got off his heels and sat on the floor, crossing his legs and making himself seem smaller. He spoke in a high-pitched, girly tone of voice, , "Now that is an excellent question. What are the plans of the Narnians? They are peaceful creatures. Maybe they will invite you over for tea, and you can make a peace treaty! Oh, Haela makes a great tea. Maybe they will want to retreat, and take some spoons and dig to China!"

The Lords shared puzzled looks: What was China? Miraz was just as dumbfounded, but hearing the mocking in Edmund's voice, he decided it wasn't a good thing. Miraz growled and tried to kick Edmund in the stomach, but the boy's legs blocked the way. Of course, it would leave a horrible bruise, but it was better than internal bleeding. "I have no time for this, stupid boy!" he yelled impatiently. "Your accent is different; you must be one of them. So tell me what your battle strategies are?"

Edmund glanced over to the throne to see the General looking at him pityingly. Edmund's eyes widened, but he masked his confusion and chuckled. "I had assumed, Lord Miraz, that you already knew many of the plans we might have created, since you have spies traveling all around the forest."

Miraz scowled. "We don't know now, but we will soon. I will ask you again, who are you? Here is another easy question for you. How many able Narnians do you have?"

Edmund smirked and raised his index finger. "First of all, all of our Narnians are able, male or female. Besides, numbers don't win a battle. Even if we were hopelessly outnumbered, we would still be able to defeat you." Edmund held up his middle finger, and grabbed both fingers with his other hand. "Second of all, who am I? Well, that's a very personal question. It might not just refer to what my name might be, but who I am on the inside. Who am I? The better question is, who are you, Miraz? A man who has replaced traitorous Caspian? Or the tyrant who murdered the poor boy's father and then tried to assassinate Prince Caspian himself!"

The Lords in the room broke into hushed whispering, shocked and wondering if what the strange boy said was true. "Silence!" Miraz shouted, keeping a calm face but felt surprised and mortified at the same time. He punched Edmund in the nose and knocked him flat onto his back. There was an audible crack and Edmund cried out as blood poured out of his nose.

"You broke it," Edmund said, shocked.

"That's not the only thing I will break!" Miraz shouted, infuriated. He kicked Edmund in the ribs, making the boy lose his breath. He continued to attack Edmund in the ribs until the boy was curled up on himself. He picked the boy up by his collar and threw him against one of the mirrors on the wall. The mirror cracked as Edmund's head collided with it and little shards rained down on his head. Edmund sat up dizzily and spit blood out of his mouth. As soon as his head cleared and the black spots in his eyes were gone, he grabbed at the glass shards at his feet. He stuffed as many pieces as he could into his boots before Miraz grabbed him around the neck and forced him down onto his stomach.

Blood coated Edmund's entire face, most of it coming from his nose but a little stream of it coming from his head. His eyesight was becoming more and more blurry and he felt weak. "I will never tell you." Edmund croaked. "I swore on my life I would never tell anyone anything ever again."

Miraz was confused, but quickly recovered. He wrapped an arm around Edmund's torso and pulled the boy up into a standing position in front of him. "If you won't tell, I know someone who will. Bring it in!"

Edmund raised his head and hazily saw the main doors open. Penna was being dragged through by her front legs as soldiers tugged on the chains. They made sure to keep their distance from the griffin's razor sharp teeth, which snapped at them whenever they got too close.

Her forest green eyes landed on Edmund's cloudy brown ones, and she roared in protest. "How dare you hurt him! He is more valuable then all of you pathetic weasels combined. I ought to tear you apart!"

Miraz stared loathingly at the Talking Beast. "He is valuable, you say? Well, I do not think he will be worth much once he is dead!" He pulled out a dagger and put it to Edmund's throat.

"NO!" Penna shouted, and tried to rear up on her hind legs, but the soldiers yanked on the chains and pulled her until she lay sprawled on the ground. "Do not kill him!"

Miraz dragged Edmund closer to the griffin until they were within two feet of her. "You will tell me the number of Narnians you have ready for battle, and you will tell be right now," he said menacingly, pressing the blade harder against Edmund's throat. A little bead of blood coated the dagger before running down Edmund's neck and staining his tunic.

Edmund, who was fighting off the sleepy feeling coming over him, stared at Penna through the dizziness, trying to warn her not to listen. Miraz wouldn't kill him yet, because Miraz would wait to figure out his identity to see if he could use him. Edmund attempted to open his mouth, but the knife pressed deeper into his neck as a warning.

Penna bowed to Edmund, sorrow shining in her eyes. Edmund closed his eyes and gritted his teeth, waiting for the knife to cut into his neck and end his life.

"Before the raid, we had at least seven-hundred strong."

Edmund's eyes shot open, and he stared at Penna, who was looking at him sadly. "Why?"

Penna leaned her head forward, and nipped at Edmund's ankle, for that was all she could reach. "I can't lose you. I failed getting you out of this retched place. And I'm not going to be the reason you die."

Miraz snorted and shoved Edmund to the floor at Penna's feet. Penna sniffed at his head and sighed in relief as he sat up slowly. "How touching," Miraz said coldly. "Put them back in the dungeon."

Edmund was hoisted to his feet, but the blood loss made him dizzy and after a moment on unsteady legs, he fell to the floor in a heap.

"Ed!" Penna cried softly, putting a clawed foreleg on his arm and gnashing her teeth at anyone who drew near.

Edmund's eyes closed and his pounding head fell back. His nose was throbbing and his ribs ached. Right before he lost consciousness, he dimly heard Lord Sopespian whisper to Miraz, "Did she say 'Ed'?"

A/N: Okay so this is chapter eight. I hope you liked it.

Thank you to everyone who reviewed and I would like to say a special shout-out to CrazyDyslexicNerd, Tatty and Dragon, and mopotter17 for commenting on the insanely awesome Harry Potter! The books are incredible and the movies are almost as great. So thanks for the comments.

Also, just out of curiosity, does anybody like Grey's Anatomy? I like to see if I have things in common with my reviewers, so don't be shy to answer!

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