Story Downloaded from Open Scrolls Archive (https://www.openscrolls.net)

Title: Daring to Dream (#3044)
Author: Ania
Chapters: 9

Archive: Narnia (The Chronicles of)
Category: Bookverse
Description: Within the city of Tashbaan, Karna had always felt alone, as though she did not belong, unwanted by her supposed father, she sought her mother out longing to know the truth, and suddenly with the coming of a king and queen from Narnia, her life truly seemed to begin....
Published: 31 Oct 2006
Updated: 23 Feb 2008
Warnings:
Type: Drama
Characters: Peridan; oc


Chapter 1 - Chapter One

Daring to Dream

Chapter One

In the dim light, Tarneesh turned over, groaning as he forced himself to rise from the straw mattress, he staggered across the room towards a rickety table. Slowly taking the bowl upon it, he splashed half the tepid water it contained on to his face, using the other half of it to swill out his mouth before spitting it onto the small threadbare rug that covered floor. Regardless of his action, he moved towards the only chair in the room; pulling on the clothes that lay upon it, he turned to gaze at the other occupants.

First moving to glance at the straw mattress furthest from him, he looked upon one and then the other of his sons, both stocky and dark as he, they were brawny lads and good fighters as he had been in his youth. Grunting with satisfaction, he turned to stare at the woman who lay on the other side of his mattress, his expression that of approval, the closest he was ever able to get to affection in his stark, selfish existence. For, though they had been married sixteen years, she still resembled the young widow he had married, gentle and sweet-faced though a bit thinner, she had brought four children to his house, been dutiful and obedient, all he had ever wanted in a wife. Turning once more, his eyes came to rest on the his two daughters, one of them large and stocky as her father, the other small and delicate as her mother, both of them submissive and compliant to their father’s will, he even felt an agreeability for them, not doubting that he would one day find husbands for them both.

However, the final figure he turned to drew a scowl to his face, looking down upon the mattress nearest the door, he was able to make out the figure of a tall, slender girl, curled up beneath her blanket, her face delicate, and like that of her mother, but with a height to her personage that both he and his wife lacked. After glowering at her sleeping form for a moment, he kicked her roughly, growling for her to get up.

Complying at once, the girl jumped to her feet, answering,

“Yes, oh my father and the delight of my eyes?”

“Get dressed, girl, and draw fresh water from the well.” The girl nodded, hurrying behind a crooked dressing screen, she emerged a few moments later having donned a ragged dress, pulling a shawl about her shoulders.

She left the house gladly, now being completely ignored by Tarneesh, and after closing the door, made her way slowly up the narrow, dirtied street, enjoying the coolness that came with the early morning before the oppression of the day’s heat took hold. Making her way through the winding back streets, she came to the communal well, finding it almost deserted at that early hour, she joined the back of the short queue, hailing the neighbour who stood in front of her.

“Good day Maralis, in the name of Tash (may he praised), how fare you this day?”

“Good day, Karna, in the name of Tash (may he be praised), I am well I thank you. How does your family?”

“My family is well, I thank you. My father and brothers are to visit the market this day with their latest carvings of great Tash (may he be praised), he hopes to make a fair profit upon them, for several (he says) are of excellent craftsmanship.”

“I wish him every success in his business, in the name of Tash (may he be praised).”

“I thank you. Will Tamara be coming to work with us under Master Tirshan’s employ this day?”

“She will, for her sister is now of old enough age to not require her constant supervision, and the added income from her work will not go amiss.” Now seeing that her turn had come to draw water, Maralis inclined her head to the girl, bidding her a good day before hurrying off to feed her family.

Having drawn her own water, Karna moved in the direction of her own home, delaying as much as she dared, having no wish of leaving the street, remarkably cooler in contrast to the warm stuffiness of the house and Tarneesh’s glowering face. All too soon, however, the familiar door way came into view and she entered it, carrying her bucket of water hesitantly, knowing the kind of reception she would receive.

She entered the other room of the house, finding her mother awake, kneading the morning loaf by the fire. With a smile, she rose at the sight of her daughter, taking her gently in her arms while her husband was still within the other room, an intimacy that she never gave her other children, for she knew the disapproval their father would show at sight of it. To Karna however, it was a rare and wonderful thing, the only joy that she had within the length of her long, tiring day. With delight, she returned the gesture, hugging her mother lovingly before feeling the gentle touch of lips to her cheek, and then a quick removal, as though nothing had happened at all.

“How did you sleep, my daughter?” her mother asked, placing several loaves above the flames.

“Well I thank you, oh my mother and the true delight of my eyes,” she replied, hastily pouring the water into a bowl to take to her father. “And you?” Turning for a moment, the woman smiled at her daughter,

“As well as can be expected.” Karna nodded, quickly kissing her mother’s cheek before hurrying into the other room.

Once there, she continued the morning ritual of kneeling before her father holding the bowl up for him as he washed himself properly, completely ignoring her as though she were a lowborn slave and not the daughter of his wife. After he had finished, she returned to the well with a second bucket, leaving the first for her siblings to wash in. The queue had now increased significantly, and by the time she had returned, the entire family was awake and seated around the low table within the other room, watching as the mother took the loaves off of the fire and then served a meagre breakfast of bread, dried fish and a single fig each.

After the morning meal, Tarneesh rose with his sons, taking the loaf his wife offered, he nodded to his daughters, ignored Karna and after entering the small workshop for a few moments and picking up the bundle of his carvings, left for the market with the two boys following in his wake. With relief, Karna rose and went back into the sleeping room, washing her face, and taking time to comb the tangles from her long black hair and braid it, even tidying the blanket upon her bed before heading back into the other room of the house.

“How fare you this morning, Karna?” The slighter of her two sisters asked her, tying a simple necklace about her neck.

“Well I thank you, Karlis,” she replied, brushing the creases from her dress, “How did you sleep?”

“Well enough, though I would long above all things to know how it feels to sleep upon the silken sheets of a bed in one of Master Tirshan’s houses. Can you imagine such fine material against your skin, with a large, soft, goose-feather mattress beneath you rather than one of straw? I should forsake all the riches of the world to have one night’s experience of that.”

“Do not dream of things that are never going to happen, Karlis,” her mother interrupted, “There is no benefit in it. Dream only of that which is within your grasp, a marriage to a fine man and a home of your own, that it something attainable.” Nodding obediently, Karlis lowered her head, though Karna knew she would be hearing more of her dreams throughout that day, and in far greater detail.

“We had best be off,” stated the other daughter, rising from her seat as she spoke, “Or we shall be late for our work.”

“I am glad that one of you has my efficiency, Tarlana,” their mother added, patting her daughter gently on the shoulder in approval before handing them each a loaf and hurrying them from the room, closing the door firmly behind Karna as they left.

As they made their way through the back streets and up the various stairways that morning, Karna walked slightly behind her sisters, only half listening to their latest conversation concerning young men and their hopes for swift marriages. The object of Karlis’ admiration that day was the son of their local butcher, a tall, though rather lanky youth who had apparently smiled at the younger of Karna’s sisters, a gesture completely unheard of within the society of Tashbaan, and one that had immediately won her heart. She was now well on the way to falling deeply and irrevocably in love with the young man, whom Karna found herself approving of much more than the usual lustful admirers of her sister.

When it came to a certain choice of one of two ways, Karlis implored her sister to allow them to take the one that passed by the meat market, for, being the eldest daughter, Karna was automatically responsible for her younger sisters’ welfare. However, it did not take much persuasion that morning, as she was interested herself to judge the true depth of the young man’s affections, and found herself pleasantly surprised. For, it was obvious that day that he had determined to talk to Karlis, and approached them nervously, greeting them all in the name of Tash, enquiring after their health and that of their family, polite and respectful, yet at the same time casting subtle sideways glances at Karlis; all of which were missed but one, which she returned with a warm smile.

After several moments, though, Karna bid him farewell and hurried her younger sisters away, thinking only of their arriving on time for their work that day. They passed beneath a great archway and came to the river homes, those that were owned by the diplomats and noblemen, by Tarkaans and Tarkheenas. After passing several of these beautiful homes, they came to a large, handsome building, around which spread a wide, courtyard like garden with a merry fountain bubbling in the centre, and fruit trees growing upon a large, smooth lawn of grass. However, instead of entering this home through the gate, they moved towards the side of it and entered through a small door cut into the wall at one end. After descending a small flight of stairs, they entered the lower floor of the home, hurrying along a corridor and into a small chamber in which several other girls were changing or taking down beautiful garments of blue and green.

They quickly did the same, taking three other such outfits from the pegs on the wall, casting aside their own ragged dresses for the finery hanging before them. Such was expected of the servant girls of great men such as Master Tirshan, for, in Calormen, if one was rich, one showed it off to the best of one’s ability, and one of the ways in which this was done was through the dressing of one’s servants and slaves in beautiful clothes. So, in a way, these garments were representative of a uniform for the three sisters; for, the way that they appeared was seen as an impression of their master, and, as a result, each servant girl was expected to dress beautifully and always be clean.

Not long after their arrival, all of the servant girls were ready, and after quickly inspecting one another, they filed out of the chamber and down the corridor towards the dinning chamber, where their master would meet them and instruct concerning the day’s employment. Once there, the head servant girl, a beautiful though rather haughty girl named Kediza, quickly inspected each girl, making sure that all of them were suitably presented for the arrival of their master and the day’s work ahead of them.

About a minute later, the doors were swung open and Master Tirshan entered. A small, enormously fat man, he had risen quickly within the favour of the Tisroc after gaining enormous wealth through the construction of several homes, the grandest of which was the Tashbaan home of the great Ahoshta Tarkaan. However, despite his great wealth, Tirshan had always failed to gain that which he pretended to have, nobility. So, arraying himself as finely as any Tarkaan, he lived under the guise of being a Tarkaan, referring to himself as one in all but name.

Thus it was that he entered the dinning chamber that morning, taking in the sight of all the servant girls, brightly arrayed in their fine clothes, fresh and young, giving him a smug reminder of his wealth and causing him to puff out his large chest in pride, his gold necklaces clinking as he strode grandly towards them.

“Yestereve, the great Tisroc (may he live forever), saw fit to summon his servant Tirshan, and made a request of him. He informed him of a decision he had made, and that decision was to house his barbarian visitors within one of his servant’s humble homes. Thus, it is the will of great Tash (may he be praised) that my home is to be used for the barbarian visitors when they arrive. Within the party is the barbarian queen meant to marry the great Prince Rabadash, and with that in mind, much planning will have to be made. For, as the poet says, no great building can be wrought by idle hands, much preparation will need to be done so that mighty Tisroc (may he live forever) will be honoured before his guests. Thus, the home chosen for the housing of the barbarian guests must be perfectly prepared and carefully maintained during their visit. They will be arriving after the fulfilment of the winter months, half way through the season of the spring, and as such, several alterations will need to be made to the home to make it suitable. It will be the responsibility of you all to clean the home, and keep it clear for the length of their stay, you will also be required to give entertainment upon the evening of the feast I will be holding in welcome of the their visit. May Tash the great, the inexorable, the irresistible, deign to hear our prayers this day.” With a nod, he then bent his head and raised his arms, reeling off a long, much-used description of Tash’s greatness. After which he prayed to their god at length, asking him to give guidance to the great Tisroc (may he live forever) on this day, to help them all do him the honour that was his due through their actions.

After the prayer had ended, Master Tirshan swept majestically from the room, his long cape brushing the floor as he strode, the mass of frills that covered his stomach fluttering with every step.

For the remainder of the day, the servant girls could speak of nothing but the barbarian visitors who would be coming with the new year. Rumours spread throughout the household during the remainder of the day as the girls whispered excitedly about what the barbarian land was like, the bewitching beauty of the barbarian queen, and the handsomeness of the pale-skinned men who came from the land, far to the north.

“What is the barbarian land called?” Karna’s friend Tamara asked as they wiped the vast marble floor of the entrance hall together.

“I’m not certain, I but I think that I heard Kediza refer to it as Narnia,” a girl answered, scrubbing at a particularly tough stain.

“Is it true what they say? Is the skin of all the men as pale as cream?” Karlis asked, not focussing on her work as she tried to imagine such a thing in her mind.

“Apparently,” the other girl replied, “It just sounds very strange doesn’t it? I can’t imagine what a pale-skinned man would look like.”

“I don’t think that anyone could look well with pale skin,” Tarlana stated, “at least not next to Prince Rabadash.” At this, many of the girls giggled, for it was common knowledge among their group that Tarlana was besotted with the Calormene Prince.

“But Tarlana, any man pales in comparison to your prince!” Tamara exclaimed with a giggle.

“Yes, and all of these Narnian men are sure to,” Karna added, causing widespread laughter.

“I wonder if the barbarian queen is as beautiful as she is supposed to be.”

“She must be to have bewitched Prince Rabadash in such a way,” Tarlana said loyally, “his judgement cannot be questioned.”

“How long ago did he visit the barbarian land, Tarlana?”

“This summer past, he returned with the reaping of the harvest, and now they return the favour.”

“Do you think that they will be handsome?” Karlis asked, still fantasising about the pale men from the north.

“I thought that your thoughts were more filled with that of a certain butcher’s son?” Tarlana asked slyly, grinning at her sister’s blush. This caused immediate outbursts from the other servant girls,

“Ahoz! How long have you been interested in the butcher’s son, Karlis?”

“He is handsome … has he given you any encouragement?”

“I knew that you would not stay unmarried long, you are the fairest of all of us.”

Karlis flushed anew, finding herself overcome by all the attention, and seemed uncertain as to how she should answer.

“He smiled at her a few days ago and came up to speak with us this morning, that is all,” Karna replied for her stepsister, shooting a glare at Tarlana. Karlis gave her a grateful look.

“You seem well suited for each other,” Tamara stated, smiling at the younger girl, “do you like him?” Karlis finally found her tongue and smiled shyly, replying that she did.

“I wish that I could find a husband, I’d give anything to get away from my father’s home at the moment, the baby screams late into the night, I haven’t had a decent night’s sleep for weeks.”

“Is your mother still breeding, Lamarla?” Tarlana asked in surprise, “you must have a real houseful now.” The girl nodded, suddenly ashamed of her complaining,

“I am now the oldest of nine. Father is struggling to feed us all, though my sister and I work, we are running out of room at home.” Karna nodded, thinking of the small amount of floor space that was left within her own home when all of the family were asleep upon the mattresses.

“But if Tash (may he be praised) wills it, then the children are a blessing Lamarla, it is not for us to question,” Tamara stated.

“But if her Father cannot afford to feed the new baby, what is the purpose of its birth? Why would Tash (may he be praised) allow the child to be born?” Tarna asked, finding it difficult to understand. “Why create life only to then destroy it through hunger?”

“It is not for us to question the great Tash (may he be praised), Tarna. He is God. We cannot question how he decides the loss and creation of life, it is the way he has designed the world and the way it must be.”

Karna was silent for a time, barely listening as the conversation returned to that of the barbarian visitors. She rubbed vigorously at a tile, trying to understand in her mind why a god who created life would seek to destroy it so soon after its birth. Throughout her life, she had never understood why people had to dominate one another, forcing others into compliance through violence alone.

It wasn’t that she had never known violence; one of her earliest memories was of Tarneesh beating her, one night when he had returned to the home drunk, after a particularly bad day at the market. For many years, she had wondered why he seemed to beat her so much more than her siblings, until one day she had noticed how much taller she was than the rest of her family. For, though she had had the delicate face of her mother, the same small hands and dark eyes, she had never seen anything of her mother’s husband in her appearance. However, afraid of Tarneesh’s reaction, she had never asked her mother of her birth, forcing herself to accept her lot in life.

But in the time that it took for the girls to finish scrubbing the floor, she had resolved upon seeking the truth. As they walked back to the chamber in which their clothes hung, she couldn’t feel satisfied or accepting anymore, she wanted to know who she was, to know that there was a possibility that she could have something to be glad about in her own life. After years of forcing herself to accept, she didn’t want to anymore, she suddenly wanted to start seeking something better, to strive for something that would make things change.

After their dismissal that day, the three sisters left the home of Master Tirshan, and after saying good bye to Tamara and Lamarla at the market, returned to their home, arriving back just as their mother was returning from the communal pool with the linen.

“I am glad to see you returned, there is a great deal to be done. Your Father has been invited to dine with Master Ryadin the butcher and his son, he told me that it was for a very particular reason, and I need your aid, for we have to prepare your Father’s best clothes. Karlis, take up your needle and embroider your father’s best coat more elaborately along the neckline. Tarlana, take out the oil and work a shine into his best sandals, we will not be shamed in front of a man who wishes to invite your father to dinner. Karna, you help me to prepare the cordial that will be one of your Father’s gifts of gratitude for the invitation.”

The girl obeyed their mother at once, each quickly heading to her allotted task. But, as soon as they had begun the steady pulping of the oranges to be used for the cordial, Karna touched her mother very gently upon the shoulder, yet in such a way that it at once caught her attention.

“What is it, Karna? Why do you look at me in such a way?” Glancing up to make sure that both her sisters were in the other room, Karna simply asked directly.

“Mother, who is my real father?” Stunned for a moment, her mother simply stared at her, before lowering her eyes, closing them tightly. For a moment, her gentle face became pained, and she brought her hand to it, resting her head heavily upon her arms.

“Why do you ask this question now, my daughter?” she asked eventually, sounding as though it took her effort to form the words.

“Please, Mother, I need to know. I know that I am not the daughter of your husband.”

“But why do you think this?”

“You have not denied the truth of it. I look at myself, and I see you within me, I see your eyes, see your features, but I see nothing of him. Please, tell me the truth of who I really am.” Finally, her mother looked up, and Karna saw a sadness within those dark eyes that she had never known. For, though they had never had much within their lives beyond the three rooms of Tarneesh’s home, Karna had always known her mother to be content, never complaining, but always seeing the good in every situation. Through the hardships and poverty of their lives, she had always been constant, giving her daughter the love that she had never received from another person. Yet now, this pain was deep, real and it struck Karna to her very soul.

“I cannot speak of this now, my daughter, but I will tell you the truth tonight, once my husband has left, we shall find solitude, and I will tell you of what you ask.”

The hours that followed passed with agonizing slowness, and as she slowly brewed the cordial, Tarna grew impatient, believing that it would never thicken as she steadily added the juice of the lemon. Eventually, however, it began to condense, and she was able to add the remaining ingredients, careful to keep it at the same temperature so as to ensure the right consistency.

When it was eventually completed, she was finally pouring the finished cordial into a clay jar when Tarneesh entered, dusty and exultant, followed by his two sons, looking satisfyingly empty-handed and pleased with himself as he accepted a bowl of water from her mother.

“Wife,” he declared exultantly, “today has been a great day. Not only has the great Tash, the inexorable, the irresistible given me a great profit, but he has also given me the invitation of the butcher, which may well end with the settling of one of my daughters.” This startled all, and, seeing Karlis flush before a quick lowering of her eyes, Karna could easily guess the hopes that dwelt within her heart. “It is indeed a day of great joy, let us all celebrate together! I have even purchased a special gift so that you might all celebrate as well. Kanzeesh, bring it forward.” Nodding to his father, the eldest son brought forward a large haunch of meat, dumping it upon the floor by the fire.

“I thank you, my husband for the generous gift of this meat, we shall have a bountiful meal tonight in celebration of your success and a great day.”

The next hour was spent preparing Tarneesh for the meal, with his entire body being washed, his hair thoroughly cleaned, his skin oiled and his beard neatly plucked after the current Calormene fashion. His clothes were carefully scented with cyclamen to give them a freshness, his turban of new material and after slipping into his newly shined clogs, Tarneesh swept as majestically from the home as any Tarkhaan, Kanzeesh bearing a torch before him as he strode through the streets, watched by his family until he turned a corner and was gone.

“Do you think that great Tash (may he be praised) would bless me with such a marriage, Mother?” Karlis asked as they ate their evening meal, half of the meat, carefully spitted and turned gradually by their mother for the past hour so that it was perfectly tender now that they came to eat it.

“If great Tash (may he be praised) wills it, I am certain that it will happen, my daughter.” She smiled at the obvious joy that the prospect of the marriage brought her daughter, for Karlis’ dark eyes shone as she spoke of it, her smile infectious.

Karna watched her younger sister with a great happiness. For, there was little fondness found in Calormene marriages, and love matches were unheard of. Normally, a marriage settlement was reached by the parents, and based upon the financial standing of each family. It was therefore a rare pleasure for a possible bride-to-be as young as Karlis, still full of romantic ideas, to be so glad at the prospect of a marriage.

“What think you of young Ahoz, oh my sister?” Kanzeesh asked, savouring the rare taste of freshly roasted meat.

“I think him very strong and capable, oh my brother,” Karlis replied, careful to give the expected answer, “he would be a good husband, and I will try to be a good wife to him if an understanding is reached.” Nodding in satisfaction at her answer, Kanzeesh rose with his brother, and after nodding to their mother, left to visit the local tavern, taking what money they had been able to scrounge from their father with them.

Thus were Karna and her mother able to slip out of the house soon after the boys’ departure, heading out under the excuse of going to draw water, they moved in that general direction, and after leaving the street, stole quickly into a deserted back street. Once there, they settled themselves upon some steps, and Karna waited, watching her mother’s profile in the fading light, suddenly noticing the fine lines that had cut into the smooth skin of her face with the lengthening of years. However, the moment passed as soon as it had appeared, and her mother turned to her, that same sorrow returning to her eyes as she stared upon her eldest child for a long moment, seeming to meditate upon her features. After a time, she reached out and traced Karna’s face with a gently finger, slowly moving over her forehead and down her nose, to softly cup her cheek. Yet, she dropped her hand soon after, a bitter smile crossing her lips.

“You have so much of him in you, Karna. You may have my eyes, but you have his nose, perhaps smaller, but still his. You have his litheness of movement, his grace and poise,” her smile softened, “and his generous spirit.” She lowered her eyes, sighing, and after drawing her shawl closer about her shoulders, continued, “Your father was a great man, one of the most celebrated warriors of all Tashbaan in his day, and he was called Haradin. No one could best Haradin in swordplay, he has so swift and agile, he moved with such ease and grace, he made it seem more like a dance rather than actual sparring. And he won renown for his talent, prestige in battle, a reputation for honour and valour. When we married, I was the bastard daughter of a Tarkhaan; but he was kind to me, he taught me what it meant to be loved, and eventually, fell in love with me, himself. He was such a rare man, so gentle and considerate, there was none like him. When I found myself to be pregnant, we were overjoyed, and when you were born, he held you tenderly in his arms, loving you beyond any other thing, promising to always protect you. He named you Karna after my mother; such was the measure of his love for us both. Then, in a great battle, the fighting was ended, Tisroc (may he live forever) had been victorious, and as a special honour, your father was called upon to cut the enemy’s head from his shoulders; but he refused, for he would not kill an unarmed and bound man. Tisroc (may he live forever) commanded it, yet he still refused, and for it was struck down instead of the enemy. He was declared a traitor, and we were left with nothing. Everything was confiscated; our beautiful home with the rooftop garden, his horses, and our possessions. I was sent back to my father’s house in disgrace, with a year-old daughter, the only child of a traitor. They tried to take you from me, but when I refused, my father forsook me, he declared that I was no daughter of his and married me off to the first man he saw in the street. In the end, it turned out to be Tarneesh, and he has been a good husband, he has provided for me, kept a roof over both of our heads, and I have bourn him four children of his own. So the outcome could have been far worse, great Tash (may he be praised) has blessed us both and provided us with everything that we need, I have learned to be content, and so must you be, my daughter. If Karlis marries Ahoz, there will be one less mouth to feed, we shall be able to save money and add them to the funds my husband has already saved so that Karzeesh may take a bride. It will be well for us, I can sense it.”

Karna was silent for a time; sitting motionless, she drew her knees up to her chest and hugged them, slowly digesting the truth of who her father had truly been.

“Why have you never spoken of this before, oh my mother?” she asked, still staring at the ground.

“Because that is past. Tarneesh is your father now; you never knew Haradin, and I thought it best that he be kept from you, thought it might help you to accept your existence, without having delusions as to what could have been.”

“But what would have been so wrong with those delusions?” Karna was suddenly angry, “what would have been wrong with giving me something to dream of? He does not love me, mother, he never has. He will always resent my sleeping under his roof, for I will always act as the reminder of how he married the widow of a traitor.”

“Do not speak so of your father, how dare you?” Karna saw the fury in her mother’s eyes, at once regretting her outburst. “He was no traitor. He merely sought to show mercy to a man who deserved none; that is true courage. Never did he kill merely for the pleasure of it, he only took life in the defence of his land or family. I kept his existence from you for your own good. The delusions of which you speak would have given you no relief, Tarna, only embittered you to the life you live, dreams such as these are not healthy. We cannot live in a dream. It is true that we might find joy for a time in this life, but it does not last, and this is how great Tash (may he be praised) has deigned it to be.” Slowly taking Karna’s face in her hands, she raised it to look into the tear-stained eyes, and, with incredible gentleness, kissed her forehead, before taking her daughter in her arms. “I know that you suffer, dear one, but see the good, for we have a roof over our heads and food to eat. I have wept for my dear husband, and I will fight every day to see you have a life filled with greater joy than my own. But know, Karna, it will probably not happen, so hope for joy, my daughter, but be content with was life gives you.”

Karna felt the soft touch of her mother’s fingers, wiping the tears from her cheeks and looked up into that sweet, gentle face, seeing the love that shone from her eyes, and as a child might, flung her arms about her mother’s neck. So, in that dark, deserted street, she wept dry the hopeless tears of eighteen years.

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This is based within the ‘Horse and His Boy’; within Tashbaan about six months before the party from Narnia come of the Splendour Hylian. I hope that you enjoyed it, as I’ve really enjoyed writing it, and it will actually be finished eventually as I know where it’s going, so there will be quite regular updates (hopefully!)!

Any constructive criticism is very welcome, whether you loved it or hated it, I hope you enjoyed it!

Thanks,
Ania.


Chapter 2 - Chapter Two

Daring to Dream

Chapter Two

Karna awoke suddenly, sticky and hot within the stuffy room, she rose quietly, stealing softly between the straw mattresses, she entered the other room, moving gladly towards the cracked jug that still sat upon the table from the previous night. She rinsed her face thankfully, drying it with a bit of rag. It was a moment before she noticed Karlis, sitting hunched up and alone in a corner. In surprise, Karna approached her sister, and kneeled beside her, placing a gentle hand upon her shoulder. Karlis jumped visibly and turned, wild-eyed to stare at her sister; and in that moment, Karna saw how young she was. Small and chubby, Karlis had been a sweet child, always laughing and giggling, she had charmed even the gruffest of old men. That child had grown into a sweet little girl who had grown in beauty every day to become a young woman; but Karna now saw the child that still lurked beneath, saw the girl who was nearly, but not quite yet a woman.

“Why do you cry, my dear one?” she asked, gently wiping the tears from those pale cheeks, “what do you?” Karlis stared at her sister for a moment, before visibly crumbling and sobbing softly on to her sister’s shoulder. In response, Karna gently rocked her as she once had when her sister was a little girl.

After a time, her sobs stilled, and Karlis looked at her oldest sister with red eyes, that same fear still lurking there.

“Oh Karna. I know that I should be joyful for this chance, for this marriage to a man for whom I truly care … but I am afraid. I do not feel ready … I … I have never had a home of my own, and I have no experience of men …” Gently, Karna hugged her sister, wishing that there were some way to just stop this for a few months, a year maybe, to give Karlis some time to grow up, to truly become a woman.

But there was none.

“Oh my sister,” she said, tenderly stroking Karlis’ hair, “You know that Ahoz is a good man, and he truly cares for you. You have no reason to fear, do not cry, my dear one. Tash smiled upon you and has blessed this marriage; you shall be happy and have a home. Just imagine it. You shall have a home and just Ahoz to feed, there will not be seven people sleeping within one room, just the two of you, and you shall be able to feed and cook for just one man, to start a family of your own. You are greatly blessed, oh my sister.” Karlis was still for a moment, then, gradually, as the truth of Karna’s words dawned upon her, a smile spread slowly over her face.

However, she was unable to speak, as the next moment, Tarsheesh strode into the room and to the surprise of both sisters, put his hand upon Karlis’ head, coming as close to a caress as he ever did.

“Oh my daughter, this is a great day, to see you married to so worthy a man is proof of Tash’s benevolence and goodness, may you prosper this day.” Acting her role, Karlis lowered her eyes, thanking her father in the role of dismissive daughter. Tarsheesh actually smiled for a moment, nodding to her, before he glowered at Karna and shoved her roughly in the direction of the door, “fetch water and hurry about it. We want none of your usual dawdling on so important a day as this.”

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After a hurried preparation, the bride’s family were ready to accept the wedding guests for the breakfast, and, in view of all, Karlis received her father’s blessing. In an ornamented gown of red and gold, she looked beautiful, a simple wreath of flowers crowned her dark hair with a gauzy veil pinned beneath them. A necklace of bronze and silver coins adorned her neck, representative of her dowry, with earrings of real silver hanging from her ears, delicate and lovely.

With the blessing finished, the bridal party left the home of Tarneesh, chanting and singing as the bride was led down the streets to the home of her husband-to-be’s family. There, amongst the flowers and well wishers, Ahoz and Karlis said their vows, praying that Tash bless their union, overseen by the local elders, old men, respected among the local community who nodded solemnly upon the finishing of the ceremony.

Thus was Karlis married, and, after the wedding dinner, the couple were led away to their new home, a couple of rooms that had been purchased within another back alley, not far from the meat market, though a fifteen minute walk from her old home. Without caring, Karna dared the wrath of her stepfather, and kissing her sister a final time before the wedding party departed, leaving the couple alone for the night.

When within the privacy of his own home, Tarneesh gave full vent of his anger upon Karna for her sudden action,

“Had you no thought for the honour of our family, you stupid girl?” he demanded, “Do you know how blemished our honour is now, thanks to your burst of emotion, you piece of filth?” As he advanced, she backed away, fearing the wrath that blazed in his eyes,

“I sought only to comfort her…” she began, only to be struck so hard across the face that she was knocked off her feet.

“You will speak only when you are spoken to, you bastard! I should never have taken in so ungrateful a tramp as you, your mother has done well, bourn me four children, but what good have you ever done? No, you only consume my food, eat away at the money that I need to feed my own family. You are worthless, you have no value, and you are the spawn of a traitor.” So enraged was Tarneesh that he kicked out at Karna, catching her hard against her side, an action that caused Karna to curl up, desperately trying to protect her head with her arms as he continued to kick her.

In the end, he stopped, his anger abated, leaving Karna upon the floor, he strode into the next room, shouting to his wife for warm water.

Only when her husband had finally been prepared for bed, and he was soundly asleep did she dare to approach Karna, gently bathing her daughter’s face with warm water until she regained consciousness.

Silently weeping as her mother tended her bruises and cuts with a special cream, Karna let the tears fall, feeling desolate and alone, she longed to escape, to just die right then, to leave her world of loneliness and pain. However, to the feel of another’s touch, gently stroking her hair, she opened her eyes to see the sorrowful gaze of Tarlana watching her. For she had dared the wrath of her father to come and comfort her step-sister, yet she had done it, and it touched Karna more deeply than she had expected, bringing fresh tears to her eyes, but this time, tears of gladness in the midst of her despair.

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In the morning, Karna was so badly bruised that she could hardly walk, and Tarlana was therefore sent to work alone, being ordered to beg illness on behalf of her sister for the remainder of the week. Tarneesh left with a dissatisfied grunt that morning, muttering to himself as he and his sons left for the market, complaining of the inconvenience caused by it all.

However, it was not until the house was deserted that his wife dared to enter the second room and saw the full extent of her eldest daughter’s injuries, finding tears threatening in her own eyes a the sight of the huge bruise that had swollen around her right eye so that it was almost shut. On closer inspection, her left side were so badly bruised that it was darkened all over from the repeated kicking. Yet, despite it all, Karna smiled at the sight of her mother, wincing as she attempted to arise, being gently pushed back down by her mother’s hands.

“No, rest my daughter,” she said firmly, moving to tuck the thin blanket closer about her slender frame. “You need to rest, do not try to rise, you will injure yourself further.” Karna complied, and tried lying as comfortably as she could, though found it difficult from her injuries, being forced to lie on her right hand side, facing away from the doorway.

She took the broth her mother brought her, finding that she had no appetite, but eating to ease her mother’s worry, for she had seen the fear that dwelt in those gentle eyes and wished above all else to soothe it. So greatly did she love her mother, that she could not bear to see any fear in her eyes; for of a so content and cheerful nature was her mother, that she was seldom saddened, and when she was, it was always on account of others’ grief, and not for her own sake. Her mother had endured such hardship, and yet she was still cheerful, accepting her lot in life with grace, a grace that Karna did not possess.

Despite the possible consequences, she always acted without thought, finding herself unable to endure the thought of life never changing for the better. For she knew that, regardless of what happened, she would always fight for the chance to find that freedom and love that she sought, and to find the same for those she loved.

The week passed slowly, but with each day, Karna grew in strength and her bruises slowly faded from darkened shades of black and blue to that of yellow as they began to fade. Upon the third day, her friend Tamara came asking after her, and though she knew her husband would forbid it, Karna’s mother allowed the friends a few minutes speech together. After her first shock at the state of Karna’s face, Tamara did not ask the cause, but instead told her friend of the goings on of work, related with some excitement the earlier arrival of two barbarian lords ahead of the larger party, so as to inspect the lodgings set aside for the coming of the barbarian queen. Thus, the work had begun in earnest, and they were expected to clean the house with even greater speed and thoroughness than first related. When she left, she cast a final, sorrowful glance back at Karna, her eyes saying what she had not dared to, that she pitied her and friend and wished that she could aid her in some way, but was forbidden to do so.

In those hours that passed between the return of Tarlana from work, and that of Tarneesh and his sons from the market, Karna’s stepsister would sit with her, carefully going about her allotted task regardless of what it was, keeping her stepsister company, and speaking honestly of how she missed her company throughout the long hours of the day. These simple, honestly spoken words touched Karna’s heart and brought about an intimacy between the two sisters that had never previously been there.

“Do you miss Karlis?” Tarlana asked on the second afternoon after Tamara’s visit, six days since Karna had been bed-ridden. Sighing gently, Karna nodded,

“Very much, she always used to make me smile so broadly.” Tarlana agreed, pausing in her cutting of vegetables for a moment.

“Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night and wait to hear her breathing beside me, and when I don’t I wonder where she is, until I remember that she’s never coming back.” Karna reached over to take her sister’s hand in her own, hearing the grief in her voice.

“We all miss her terribly, Tarlana, but she has a husband who cares for her. May Tash (may he be praised) grant us the same blessing in life as she has had.” Tarlana smiled despite herself,

“My longing shall not be fulfilled unless Prince Rabadash wishes to marry into the family of a carver.” Karna laughed, glad to see her sister’s change in mood.

“Have you heard anything more concerning the barbarian lords?” she asked, having found herself considering the foreigners a lot within her hours of solitude.

“Yes,” Tarlana replied eagerly, “they are coming half way through the cycle of the next new moon. I am so curious to know what a pale-skinned man will look like, I try and imagine, but I can never picture it in my mind.” Karna smiled,

“I find it difficult to,” she admitted, “but I always find myself imagining them with lighter eyes for some reason, not dark brown or black, but pale brown, almost the colour of freshly ground cinnamon.”

“Kediza told us that she has heard Master Tirshan speaking to a friend, and apparently he has heard that the barbarian queen as eyes of green.”

“Green?” Karna exclaimed in astonishment, “you mean as the lawns of grass that cover the Tarkhaans’ and Tarkheenas’ gardens? I would not have imagined such a thing real.” Tarlana grinned,

“I know, I look forward to seeing them, it will be interesting to see if the rumours prove true.”

That night, Karna lay awake for several hours, struggling, for, though her bruises had healed substantially, they still caused her discomfort, and she had also developed a continuous headache from her confinement in the stuffy back room of the home. Desperate to escape from within it, she attempted to rise, and, though her legs were at first too numb to move after having lain in the same position for several days, she eventually managed to stand, and, leaning heavily upon the rickety table, she rose to her feet.

To her surprise, she found that she could stand and bear the pain that shot through the legs, which, though acute, was bearable. With a growing resolve, she moved steadily towards the doorway, careful not to touch any of the sleeping forms upon the mattresses, she entered the second room. When in the doorway, she paused for a moment, taking time to catch her breath before slowly limping towards the entrance, each step an effort in itself, until she finally reached the flimsy wooden frame, drawing back the bolt and opening it with surprising ease.

Once she had left the stuffiness of the home, Karna felt her face touched by the gentle kiss of the night air, cool and refreshing, the heat of the day had finally given way to it, and to her, it was like the first trickle of water down her throat after days of wandering in the desert. She stood for a time, merely basking in the stillness and calm of the night, away from the crowded heat and sweaty bodies of the room, savouring the peace that the darkness always brought.

Without knowing why, she started to walk, oblivious to everything but the need to move, nor knowing how she was able to do it with such fluidity, she found herself hurrying down the streets, her pain and bruises forgotten as she simply walked, desperate to reach her destination, but unaware as to where it was. In the darkness, she stole through the deserted streets, finding herself moving past closed, shadowy doorways and across empty squares. After a time, she became aware of moving roughly in the direction of the river, and before she knew it, she had entered an archway and was walking upon the smooth stone of a courtyard, within the centre, a fountain splashed. She stood for a moment, merely watching the water, fall into the smooth stone of the bowl, feeling refreshed by the very sight of it. The moonlight slanted across the garden, gleaming its pale light upon the fountain, making the water seem like a fall of pure silver.

The next moment, Karna froze, suddenly sensing another presence in the garden, she spun around and gasped in fear, for upon the carefully tended lawn of grass, there stood the biggest creature she had ever seen. Tawny-haired, the great cat’s mane appeared almost golden, despite the pale light that flooded the courtyard, his shaggy coat shone golden-brown, his eyes large and to her astonishment, filled with something that could only be described as love and compassion. Yet, despite the lethal teeth that showed below the cat’s lip, the claws that protruded from his paws, she felt no fear, only reassurance from his presence.

Motionless, she stayed where she was, waiting for the animal to act, at the same time knowing in her heart that he would not hurt her. Silently, he padded towards her across the grass. Tall was he, so tall that his eyes were level with her own, and slowly, he lowered his head, licking away the tears that she had not realised were staining her cheeks, with a rough, yet gentle tongue. An incredible peace filled Karna at his touch, and without thought, she put her arms about his proud neck, and began to weep wretchedly into his thick fur, feeling his tongue still licking away her tears as she sobbed away a week’s pain and fear.

After a time, the tears stopped, and she drew back, simply staring into those great golden eyes, not understanding the calm that had entered her heart, but knowing that she could now endure another day because of it. Wordlessly, she reached out and stroked the lion’s shaggy mane, hearing an undeniable purr erupt, deep within the huge cat’s throat.

“Thank you.” Without realising why, she said the words, knowing that he understood. She longed to stay here with this great cat forever, to simply be looked upon with those great eyes, so large and filled with compassion and love, so wonderful and yet unknown in her world. For a moment, she simply stood there, watching the lion, loving him for some unknown reason, before reality reasserted itself, and staggering, she suddenly realised that the pain was back as her leg throbbed.

Karna felt tears coming once more as the pain grew worse and she was forced to stumble across the courtyard toward the archway, knowing that she must return home. But in a few strides, the lion had crossed the paving and was barring her way. For the first time she felt scared.

“No, I must!” she exclaimed, “Please, let me go.” But the lion did not respond, and instead remained where he was, simply watching her.

Desperately, Karna tried to stumble around him, but the lion merely stepped in front of her, once more blocking her way. In a last attempt, she limped back in the other direction, and again, the lion barred her path, but this time, he did not pause in front of her, but continued to advance, forcing Karna to stumble back until she felt the grass beneath her feet. The next moment, in a sudden, fluid gesture, the huge cat had approached her, and almost gently, pushed her to the ground so that she sat, his large, shaggy head looming over her, filling her entire vision.

With a sudden terror, Karna covered her face with her hands, trembling so much that she visibly shook … until she felt the touch of warm breath to her hands, and slowly drew them away to see the lion watching her. Once again, he breathed on her, but instead of rancid and stale as she would have expected, his breath was sweet and lovely to smell, seeming to warm her from within. In amazement, Karna stared, transfixed, as he lowered his head, and gently nosed her skirt up so that the bottom of her legs were bare. After this, he gently licked her bruises, and with this tender touch, wrought a soothing throughout her entire body. Without knowing how, Karna felt her pain go, and stared at the great cat in amazement, for he had healed her completely. In confusion, she felt her cheek, and realised that the bruise was gone, she stared at her leg and saw the discolouration had vanished.

It was only after a time that she remembered the lion; and when she did, she looked up, saw that he was staring at her once more, his great gold eyes gentle, still filled with that love.

“Thank you,” she said again, not knowing why, but wanting to express her gratitude, and in the moment that followed, she could have sworn that she heard the words, “Peace, dear one,” spoken, though immediately banished the notion as ludicrous. Then, with a final look, the lion suddenly turned and sprang away into the night, gone as suddenly as he had come.

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Chapter 3 - Chapter Three

Daring to Dream

Chapter Three

Though he was loath to admit it, Lord Peridan of Narnia hated sea faring. Tall, broad-shouldered and strong, he was among the finest warriors of his land, a shrewd and learned diplomat, as well as a lord of high renown; he was widely respected, and yet found himself nauseated by the mere pitching of waves upon the sea. In particular, he associated his violent seasickness with his first experience of sailing, when he had been but a lad of twelve, eager and excited about his first voyage over the sea, he had spent the night before their journey celebrating with his friends, sharing some stolen ale, feeling very grown up indeed. However, the next day, they had not been half an hour out to sea, when he had felt the ale returning and had vomited heavily over the side of the boat, continuing to do so until they had reached their destination.

Thus had it been for the past fifteen years of his life, and though he had grown more accustomed to the pitching and tipping of the deck with frequent sea-going, he had yet to undertake a voyage where he did not experience the nausea at least once, and this one had been no different. Now leaning upon the wooden rail of the small ship, he watched the horizon, blue and hazy in the bright sunlight, thinking longingly of the green hills and deep forest of the land that he loved. In his mind’s eye, he pictured Cair Paravel in the summer months. A tall, magnificent castle, situated high upon a crest of the hills that rolled to the shore, the sand glistening golden and warm to touch in the sunshine. The trees rustling gently in the light breeze, their green leaves softly lifted by the wind as the castle’s inhabitants went about their business beneath the boughs.

Smiling to himself, he imagined galloping across the green country on the back of his stallion, saw the High King Peter and his brother King Edmund riding alongside him, both his lords and dear friends of his boyhood, for they had grown into manhood together in that fair country. They had hunted together ever since their first coming into the land from another world, and at the mere ages of fifteen and twelve, had fought and become kings of Narnia, defeating the White Witch. So golden and prosperous had their reign been that Peridan often had to remind himself of the oppression that they had faced within their lands before the coming of the sons of Adam and daughters of Eve into Narnia. For, still clearly, he remembered the day when he had ridden into the Narnia with his father from his birthplace of Archenland, offering his sword in the protection of the neighbouring country, feeling a strange kinship with these great lords of men.

“Land ho!” Peridan jerked free of his reverie, turning to stare at the thin strip of pale land that was Calormen, unable to stop his heart from sinking somewhat at the sight of its sandy shores. For, though he would be glad to experience the sensation of having solid ground beneath his feet once more, he liked not the mission that lay ahead of himself and his men, to act as ambassadors for his country, to see that everything was prepared to their satisfaction for the arrival of Queen Susan. He clearly recalled the previous visit of Prince Rabadash to Narnia within the summer months, and found himself distrusting the almost smarmy countenance of the Calormene prince, had seen a falseness to his kindness that had put him instantly on his guard. Upon further discussion with his friends, he had discovered a similar suspicion within the hearts of both the fair queen’s brothers, and had even spoken to her of it himself, always having thought of her as a sister. In response, Susan had smiled and thanked him for his care of her, but had spoken of how she had thought the prince to be sincere in his kindness, and of how she had been greatly flattered by his treatment and respect of her, taking a liking to his considerate manner and gallantry.

But now that he saw the land once more, the doubt returned to linger within Peridan’s heart, and he considered how the Queen Susan’s sweetness and innocence had often been thought to add to her loveliness, making her seem all the more appealing to men. For, in appearance, she was undoubtedly lovely, having long, flowing hair of the darkest brown, a pale, smooth complexion and eyes of the brightest green, and adding to this the slender grace of her figure, it could be understood why so many kings for distant lands had sought her hand in marriage. So loving was she, and so gentle, that the mere thought of anyone trying to hurt her brought a real anger to Peridan’s heart, and from that moment, he vowed that he would never let Rabadash hurt her, and would protect her with all his might from anyone who might wish her harm.

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When Karna awoke the following morning, she was amazed to find her bruises completely healed, the discolouring of her cheek faded, and upon looking at her daughter, her mother showed no less amazement.

“But how did they come to heal so completely overnight?” she exclaimed in disbelief, “I would not have thought it possible.”

“Neither would I,” Karna murmured. She said nothing of the lion.

Tarneesh’s response on seeing her healed was, as predicted, an immediate command for her to return to work, and for the first time in a long while, Karna wholeheartedly agreed with him, so great was her eagerness to leave the confines of the house. Unable to keep from smiling at her daughter’s enthusiasm, her mother allowed her the chore of going to fetch the water, struggling to keep from almost laughing at the way that Karna almost skipped out of the doorway and into the sunlight, and, had she not been respectful and very careful of customs of their land, she was certain that she would have heard her daughter singing all the way to the well!

Karna’s welcome back to her work was no less joyful than her exuberance that morning; for, all about her, the girls welcomed her back, praising Tash for her quick recovery and hoping that she would ever enjoy good health. Smiling at them all, Karna thanked them heartily, feeling oddly excited that day as she slipped into her blue clothing, feeling happy to merely be amongst them once more, and be active after an entire week of confinement.

She was not disappointed either, for the day was indeed a busy one, being the final day before the arrival of the barbarian lords upon the morrow, and the home was a hive of activity, with every floor and wall being polished; even the courtyard was given a layer of oil to make the paving slabs smooth and gleaming in the sunlight. The girls were set to scrub the floors of the great house within the morning, and then needed to practise the dance that they would be doing upon the night of the feast celebrating the arrival of the Narnian lords. Thankful that she had been gifted with the grace of her mother, Karna soon picked the dance up and was able to join in with the others in the graceful swaying and twirling that was central to their land’s traditional dance.

When they had finally completed what felt like their fiftieth rehearsal, and it had eventually been performed to Kediza’s satisfaction, they left, feeling tired but pleased with the way that they had performed that day. Tarlana in particular was greatly excited by the prospect of the barbarian lords’ coming on the morrow, and came as close as Karna had ever seen her to bouncing down the dirty streets as they walked home, smiling and speaking excitedly of what the lords would look like. Upon arriving home, there was another surprise for them, and one that caused Karna to actually squeal in delight.

“Karlis!” she exclaimed, rushing to embrace her sister as soon as she had seen the younger girl. Smiling joyfully, Karlis returned the embrace, even allowing herself a quick kiss upon her sister’s cheek before she moved away.

“How came you to be here?” Tarlana asked, moving to hug her sister as well.

“Ahoz is working late within the meat market, he thought that it would be enjoyable for me to visit my family, and I am so grateful to him, for there is nothing that I would have rather done.”

“And how are?” Karna asked, motioning for her sister to sit by her upon the rush floor mat. Karlis smiled happily in response, sitting beside her sister,

“I have never been happier, oh Karna! I had never imagined how wonderful it would be to have an entire home of my own with simply Ahoz and I. I feel almost greedy having such a great amount of space for simply the two of us. He is the kindest and most wonderful of men, so gentle and tender. I have never thought to be so blessed by Tash (may he be praised) within the marriage state, for I am blessed indeed to have such a husband.” All three women smiled at Karlis, their happiness at her joy shinning from their eyes.

“I could not have prayed to Tash (may he be praised) for more great a joy that this,” their mother stated, taking her daughter in her arms, “to see you so happy, Karlis gives me the strength to endure any hardship, my contentment for you is complete.”

“If only we could all hope for sure joy in our marriages,” Karna commented, hugging her knees to her chest.

“All works out according to Tash’s will (may he be praised), oh my daughter. You must accept your lot in life, and be grateful for the joys that you have within it.”

“But, Mother. I do not understand why Tash (may he be praised) would create life only to see it destroyed before it can truly live. For, did I not tell you of the death of Maralis’ mother’s baby? He died of a fever just last night, and he was born but a week ago. Why take life when it has only just begun to live?”

“My daughter, if you understood the ways of Tash (may he be praised) deemed things to be, why would he be god? We are not meant to understand why things happen, if we did, that would make us equals to Tash, the inexorable, the irresistible.”

“But mother …”

“Peace, my daughter. It is not for us to question Tash (may he be praised). Be grateful that you have a roof over your head and food to eat.”

“Yes, oh my mother,” Karna replied, lowering her eyes submissively as was expected. For, she did not wish to argue with the one whom she loved above all others. She had simply found herself wondering about things that day as she had worked, could not understand in her mind why the baby had had to die, why Maralis’ mother had had to go through such pain just a week before to have her joy taken so soon away.

She sat for a while, silent as the others began to prepare dinner, she ran a hand over her leg, and, lifting up her skirt for a moment, stared at the smooth, tanned skin that had so recently be darkened with the bruising, and yet was now completely healed. Without thought, She moved her hand to touch her cheek, marvelling that the skin had healed under the simply touch of the lion’s gentle tongue. Yet, it had not just been the bruising and aching that had healed, for within her very heart, she had felt a strengthening and a peace settle upon her as the lion’s sweet breath had touched her face, she had felt the courage to live for the next day, to go on. Something about that lion had touched her, she did not know how, but he had seemed to almost understand her suffering, had almost seemed to have tears in those great yellow eyes as he regarded her…

“Karna! Why are you so dreamy this day? I have already asked you three times to take the bucket and fetch some water from the well.” Startled, Karna hurriedly apologised, hurrying to fetch the wooden pail, determining to put the lino out of her head until she had the time to dwell upon him without interruption.

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Tarneesh returned from the market that evening in a foul mood, having sold less that half of his carvings that day. He exhausted it by raging at his entire family, no-one was spared, least of all Karna, who got the brunt of a full hour-long tirade after she accidentally knocked the pail of water over, soaking the already heavily-worn rushes of one of the mats. In the end, Tarneesh’s anger abated and he received his meal without comment, grunting at his wife to fill his cup with more ale, before asking Tarlana about the arrival of the barbarian lords on the morrow. His daughter eagerly replied, telling him of how two lords and a small escort of warriors were arriving earlier, having been sent ahead by their king to make sure that everything was prepared for the arrival of their queen.

“What is the purpose of sending men ahead to ‘prepare’?” Tarneesh demanded, drinking heavily from his cup. “Do they not think that our great Tisroc, may he live forever, would not have known to make the appropriate preparations for the arrival of our Prince’s betrothed?” None of the family spoke. “I suppose that this barbarian queen is supposed to be more beautiful than any creature that was ever seen within our great land of Calormen?” He continued, taking another lengthy swig of ale. “I do not know how a woman with pale skin could be seen as fair, but I suppose that there must be something lovely about her for our noble Prince Rabadash to have chosen her. Do you not think so, wife?” Tarneesh asked, suddenly regarding his wife in a manner that made her blush and avert her gaze. “Well? What say you?”

“I expect that she is very beautiful, oh my husband,” his wife replied, colouring, her eyes lowered. Suddenly, Tarneesh rose, ordering his sons to go to the tavern and his daughters to both go and get more water. “Leave that,” he barked at Karna, who had been in the process of wiping up the water, “I wish to be alone with my wife.”

Suddenly fearful for her mother, Karna attempted to take as much time as she could in putting away the rag and pail, be rewarding with a cuff around the head for her trouble. “Get out, now!” her stepfather ordered, pushing both Tarlana and her roughly on to the street with the pail, “don’t come back for at least an hour.” Karna spun around, only getting a single glimpse of her mother’s anxious face before the door was slammed in their faces.

“I hate it when he does that,” she said to Tarlana after their brothers had stumbled off to the tavern. Sighing gently, Tarlana brushed the dust off herself from when she had fallen and nodded sadly to her sister.

“But, my sister, it is a husband’s right,” she stated, slowly picking up the pail.

“Did you not see our mother’s face, Tarlana? She always looks so fearful when he gets that glint in his eye. I saw none of it within Karlis’ eye this day.”

“Maybe it is different with each man?” Tarlana suggested, “I do not know what happens, but maybe every marriage is different. How can we know until our father has chosen a husband for us? It is something private, only to be shared between husband and wife.” Reluctantly, Karna forced herself to nod, falling slowly into step beside her sister as they headed absently in the direction of the well, nodding greetings to their neighbours as they passed, eventually coming to pause outside Tarmara’s father’s home.

“Should we ask if Tamara is allowed to join us?” Tarlana asked her sister. Karna considered it, and in the end, they knocked. A flustered looking Maralis opened the door,

“Good evening, Maralis, in the name of Tash (may he be praised), how fares your family?”

“Well I thank you, Karna, in the name of Tash, (may he be praised), how fares your family?”

“They are all well, I thank you. We came to ask whether Tamara might join us this evening for a walk to the well?” Glancing over her shoulder, Maralis nodded, calling for her daughter to bring the pail, she ushered her out, saying loudly that she would need more water. “I hope you have an enjoyable walk,” she added before softly closing the door.

Tamara regarded her friends in surprise,

“What did my mother just do?” she asked, confused. Karna grinned,

“She gave you permission to spend some time with us this evening.” Realisation suddenly dawned on Tamara, causing her to grin,

“Were you banished from your home?” The sisters nodded,

“We are supposed to spend an hour fetching water.” Tamara nodded in understanding,

“It is often the same within my father’s home. Although it is somewhat harder for me, having to keep a six and an eight-year-old entertained, my little brothers get soon bored.”

Glad to have this unexpected hour together, the three girls walked along the narrow back streets together, talking and laughing quietly, enjoying the quiet of the evening, revelling in the joy of merely being able to be together without the pressure of having to work upon their heads.

“I am anxious about the dancing tomorrow,” Tarlana admitted when they had finally reached the well and were perching upon the rough stone edge, “I find it difficult to move with the grace that the rest of you are, for I am so much larger in build.”

“Oh Tarlana, that is ridiculous,” Karna exclaimed, regarding her sister’s figure, “you move with perfect fluidity and grace. It is I who look ridiculous, for I am so tall and awkward.”

“Karna, now you are being ridiculous,” Tamara stated, “you are the most graceful of us all.”

“Indeed I am not,” Karna declared earnestly, “I have none of Kediza’s sensuality, or any of your ability with my footwork Tamara, you are so light on your feet.”

“I think you are both ridiculous to argue over something that does not apply to either of you,” Tamara said sensibly, “you both dance featly, well enough to delight all the barbarian lords in the world. I think it is in every girl’s personality to doubt some aspect of herself, so it is nothing to dwell upon or encourage, we all find fault with ourselves, but we do not improve the situation, or change it by complaining.” Neither Karna nor Tarlana could fault Tamara’s irrefutable logic, and gave way, seeing the stupidity of their argument, both regretting the very selfishness of it.

Ever the peacemaker, Tamara steered the conversation back to safer territory, namely, that of the barbarian lords, and the disagreement was then forgotten as soon as it had been started.

“How many are arriving tomorrow?” Karna once asked her sister.

“Two,” Tarlana replied at once, “the greater of the two lords is supposed to be a close friend of the high kings of the barbarian land; both of them are brothers to the barbarian queen. They also bring with them a small escort of warriors, though merely for protection, not as a threat.”

“Why would they feel threatened?” Tarlana shrugged,

“I suppose because they fear the greatness of Tisroc (may he live forever) and the great Prince Rabadash.”

“What is the name of the barbarian queen?” Tamara asked, “has she some strange sounding name?”

“Well, I think it’s rather plain personally,” Tarlana answered, “but I suppose if Prince Rabadash finds her attractive, it should not cause us to think less of her.”

“But what is it?” Tamara persisted.

“The barbarian queen is named Susan.” Tamara blinked,

“Susan? What sort of a name is that?”

“It does have a very peculiar sound to it,” Karna agreed, “but what of the lord, did you hear of his name?” Tarlana shook her head,

“I only overheard Kediza and another speaking of Prince Rabadash’s betrothed.”

“I cannot wait to see her, I often find myself wondering about the barbarian land far to the north, what it must be like to live there.” Tamara and Tarlana stared at Karna in surprise,

“Why, my sister, would you wish to live in a barbarian land that is void of all civilised society and living? I overheard Master Tirshan speaking of the strange land they hail from. Apparently, they do not worship Tash (may he be praised), the inexorable and irresistible, but a lion.”

“A lion?” Karna’s eyes widened as she beheld her sister. “They worship a lion?” Surprised by the violence of Karna’s reaction, Tarlana merely nodded,

“Are you well, Karna?” Tamara asked anxiously, “you’ve gone pale, and you’re shaking.” Karna shuddered, forcing herself to focus, managing a pained smile,

“I am, thank you, Tamara, but it simply seems so strange to worship a lion rather than the creator of this earth.”

“Maybe it is some demon,” Tamara suggested, still disturbed by her friend’s reaction. “Are you sure that you are well, Karna? Do you fear lions?” Karna almost laughed,

“No, I thank you Tamara, I truly am well, simply surprised that the barbarians worship a lion instead of Tash.” Tarlana shrugged,

“I suppose that they are not named barbarians without reason.”

“Do you think it is true that their men do not even wear turbans and shave off their beards to appear clean-faced as boys?” Tamara asked. Tarlana nodded gravely,

“I have heard the same; there is little wonder then why it is referred to as barbarian land when they don’t have even a knowledge of common decency.”

“Why on earth would they do freely that which is considered a public humiliation?” Karna exclaimed in surprise, “For, did not Lamarla’s father have his beard plucked out when he was caught stealing? Why do such a thing voluntarily?” Tarlana shrugged darkly,

“Are we meant to understand the way of barbarians? Don’t worry about it Karna, we need not seek to understand the mind of a barbarian, they are different and not worthy of such thoughts.” Karna nodded, saying no more, but completely confused in her mind, unable to understand why these barbarians were so different, and why she had seen the same species of creature as that that they worshipped as god.

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Though he had been hoping, praying to Aslan for some relief, Lord Peridan had known how their welcoming to Calormen would be, and he had been entirely right. Overly lavish, and fussily fancy, they had been forced to endure a lengthy, condescending speech from the Grand Vizier, a man named Ahoshta Tarkaan who spoke long and pompously about the Greatness of the Tisroc in agreeing to welcome these barbarian visitors on behalf of his son, to treat them with such favour in the presence of such greatness. With much flowery and haughty language, he continued on in this vein for some time until a young, tall man whom Peridan recognised as the Prince Rabadash finally interrupted him. Making no attempt to hide his arrogance, the swarthy prince advanced upon Peridan with the stance of one greatly favouring the hearer with his valuable attention.

“My Father, the great Tisroc, may he live forever,” he said, “welcomes you to his illustrious land of Calormen and bids me bring you to the palace of his greatness where we will to celebrate your arrival, and make preparation for the even greater arrival of my betrothed and her brother. If you will join me now, barbarian lord, we shall journey through the city.” With all the grace he could muster, Peridan bowed to the Prince, though he felt nothing but disgust and distrust for the arrogance of this man in his heart, he forced himself to keep a civil tongue in his head.

“I thank you, my lord Prince Rabadash for the hospitality of your father the Tisroc, and his deigning to welcome us to his city of Tashbaan. It would be my honour to join you this day, and thank you on behalf of my land of Narnia, their majesties the queens and king, and his most royal highness the High King, Peter the Magnificent. I am Lord Peridan, and bring but a small guard with me, they are to merely aid me in the preparations for the arrival of her majesty Queen Susan, nothing more.” Rabadash nodded, his look suggestive as he returned Peridan’s bow,

“I look forward to my meeting with her grace Queen Susan dearly, Lord Rabadash, I am anxious to see her again and look forward to our marriage. It will be a great day.”

“Your marriage, my lord Prince?” Peridan could not refrain from answering, “I do not believe that her majesty Queen Susan has yet given her consent.”

“Not in word, my lord Peridan, but if her look and gesture are any indication, I find myself expectant of an acceptance from my fair queen upon her arrival, and if you are prepared, may I show you the palace of my father, the great Tisroc.”

Thus with a forced smile and grudging nod, Peridan approached the stallion offered and mounted upon the proud beast’s back, following Rabadash along the paved street and towards the gates of the city, knowing at that moment that he had never wished to be in a different place so greatly in his entire life.

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Foolish though she knew it was, Karna could not stop herself from grinning as broadly as Tarlana as they made their way through the back streets of Tashbaan that evening. For, that day, they had been informed that all of the dancers at that night’s festivities were to have new, beautiful outfits in cloth of the brightest shades of purple, red and gold, clothes that would bring glory to their master Tirshan as a statement of his wealth. Unable to help herself, Karna smiled at the prospect of her golden clothes, the rarest and therefore most precious of colours in cloth, yet bought for mere servants to wear by their master.

“I cannot believe that we will see the barbarian lords tonight!” Tarlana exclaimed, “I hope that our dance will be of a good enough level to bring renown to our master and glory to Tisroc (may he live forever).”

“I am sure that it will, my sister,” Karna replied, “we have been practising for several hours a day and nearly for an entire week now. I am certain that we will perform the dance to perfection.” Smiling to herself, Tarlana did an excited little skip-step, very unlike her usual, carefully placed steps, the sight of which caused Karna to laugh.

“Tarlana!” she exclaimed, “you are more restless than a little child, I do assure you, we shall see the barbarian lords soon enough.” Tarlana stilled herself, smiling apologetically as they entered the finer side of the city, soon entering the house of Master Tirshan, their eyes dancing as they both hurried into the room usually set aside for their changing. When they entered, they found a crowd of excited girls, all of them giggling and talking at the top of their voices as they waited, all of them still dressed in their normal clothes.

“When are we to receive the outfits, Tamara?” Karna inquired, hurrying to where her friend stood.

“Once we have all arrived, Kediza is to lead us to where the clothes are being stored, they are apparently rather … sensual.” Her eyes widening, Karna attempted to imagine what style the clothes would be cut in, considering the usually modest style of dress that was worn by all virtuous women in their society.

However, their curiosity was soon answered by the arrival of Kediza who entered suddenly, causing a widespread intake of breath amongst the girls. For her long hair fell loosely around her face; a few braids adorned her dark tresses, golden thread interwoven with the hair. Her forehead bore a single, pale jewel, her eyes cleverly lightened with some powder, accentuating the already exotic allure of her appearance. The outfit was in two pieces, and cut so suggestively that it completely shocked the servant girls. The top of the outfit was an intricately embroidered bodice, daringly cut so that the bare skin was left visible between the bottom of the bodice and the top of the skirt, revealing the belly button. A long, heavily decorated skirt flowed from her hips to the floor, swirling with every movement of her feet.

For a moment, Kediza merely observed the amazed, slightly fearful expressions of the girls, a sardonic smile playing across her lips.

“I know that this outfit may cause surprise, but it is the wish of our Master Tirshan that the barbarian lords be impressed, and he believes that these outfits will have the desired affect upon his guests. There are outfits of purple, red and gold within each of these sacks, take great care as you handle them, and aid each other in dressing, for the lacing of the bodice is somewhat complex.”

More fearful of displeasing than anxious about the outfits, the girls immediately divided into pairs, aiding each other into the suggestive costumes, they sought to be as swift as possible. Yet, as she stood, patiently waiting for Tamara to finish lacing up the top of her bodice, Karna found herself crossing her arms across the bare expanse of flesh, feeling uncomfortably exposed in the outfit. Made impatient by her discomfort, she fingered the heavy cloth of her skirt, marvelling at the number of beads and the amount of gold thread that had gone into the decoration of this skirt alone, astounded by the obvious wealth of her master. After just a minute, she turned to aid Tamara, and worked at the lacings with nimble fingers, regretting for the first time that she and her sister had to participate in the dance. For their society was one that emphasised the virtue and modesty of a woman, and yet their master thought it suitable for his servant girls to dress in such a manner for the sake of the Narnian lords? Confused and uncomfortable, she stood with Tamara, waiting for the other girls to finish before Kediza addressed them once more.

“Our great Master Tirshan has purchased a number to jewels similar to my own,” the head servant girl said, motioning to the one upon her forehead. “They are simply applied and require only a small amount of this substance to be attached to the forehead, but they are only required for those chosen to wear gold among us. The rest of you will braid coloured thread into your hair, dependent upon the colour of your clothes, be sure to copy my own style as best you can, the aim is to keep the majority of it falling freely about your face. Those of you who are wearing gold, please come to me now.” Uneasy, Karna approached Kediza along with Larmarla, the only other girl whom she knew well that had been chosen to wear gold.

Once they were out of hearing range of the other girls, Kediza smiled at the girls who stood before her, for there were about fifteen of them in all.

“You girls should consider yourself blessed this night, for you were chosen to wear this coveted colour, out of all the other servant girls, because you possess something that the other girls lack. Our master has watched the rehearsals carefully and hand-picked all of you to wear this colour, so be proud, and try to bring prestige to our master through your dance this night, may Tash be honoured this night through our actions (may he be praised).”

“But why were we chosen out of the others to wear this wondrous cloth?” a girl asked, a curiously smug expression upon her face. Kediza returned her smile,

“It is because you were considered fairest by our great Master Tirshan, he wishes his guests to be greatly pleased by this night’s festivities, and I hope that they will. Now, the jewels are simple to attach and require only a dab of this mixture to be secured to the skin, you will form a line and I will attach them to you by my own hand.” Obediently, the girls formed a line as Kediza went about her task and, near the end of the line; Karna and Lamarla were able to have speech.

“Why were we chosen?” Karna asked in surprise, “I have never been considered fair, my own stepfather cannot bear the very sight of me.”

“I know not why I was chosen either,” Lamarla stated, “though, it is rather flattering to have been from all of the servant girls in Master Tirshan’s employ.”

“Flattered? But Lamarla, we have been picked to be at the front and dance closest to where the barbarian lords may glance at what we are wearing. Do these outfits not make you feel uncomfortable?”

“At first I suppose,” her friend admitted, “but the cloth is so fine and beautifully embroidered, I am starting to feel rather grand actually, for I have never been dressed in such a way.”

“But my friend, we are dressed in such a way for the men to see more of our skin than is normally allowed. I see nothing grand about it.”

“Oh Karna, why must you always worry so greatly? Have I not ever been the small, overshadowed daughter of my family? Despite being the eldest, in all my life, it has been my sister Taranis that was considered the beauty, and yet this time I have been chosen, am considered fair. I care not that the clothing I wear maybe provocative, for my entire life, I have been told to be modest, yet now we are told to wear beautiful clothes and dance for foreign lords. Can you not merely enjoy the experience? Who knows, a lord may fall in love with me and take me away from this city, to a place where I will not be overshadowed, but be loved.” Karna stared at her friend in dismay, wishing that she could tell her the real reason for their wearing such finery, but not wanting to disrupt Larmarla’s dream. For, in their dull, monotonous existence, she of all people could understand the need to believe that there was something else within life better than what they had.

After a while, all of the girls were ready, their hair had been braided, the jewels attached to foreheads, and the initial embarrassment at having to wear such outfits had given way to nervous excitement. As she stood in line, waiting for the moment when they would have to enter the great hall, Karna felt mildly sick, not from fear of forgetting the steps, but at the prospect of having to make such a spectacle of herself before the lustful glances of old, leering men. However, it could not be put off forever, and eventually, the moment came for them to leave the comfort of the changing chamber, to hurry, giggling through the darkened corridors of the house, and to eventually pause before the large, cedar doors of the great dining chamber.

In that moment that she stood, waiting in the darkened corridor, Karna found herself thinking of the lion she had met in moonlit courtyard, smelt the sweetness of his breath upon her face, felt his rough tongue gently wiping away her tears. Even heard those words echoing in her mind once more, “Peace, dear once.” Suddenly, she felt courage enter her heart, and she knew that she could bear this, that she could endure once more. Thus, with a bright smile forced on to her face, she drew a breath and ran into the great dinning hall.

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Chapter 4 - Chapter Four

Daring to Dream

Chapter Four

In a blur of colour, Lord Peridan of Narnia beheld them. Over forty girls, all of them dressed in the same provocative style of clothing, the like of which he had never previously beheld. At the forefront of the dancers, a group of them danced, clad in gold, dazzling and sensual in their movement, he found himself transfixed by their action, so graceful and fluid were they. Yet at the same time, he found the blatant sensuality of it off-putting. The outfits were too provocative, and the expressions of some of the dancers so practised that they seemed sculpted to the girls’ features. However, despite his reservations, he could not deny the intrigue that the dance caused, for there was something curious and rather beautiful about the style of dancing, so different to that of his homeland, he found it oddly stimulating.

The dance continued for some time, and through it, Peridan found himself considering each of the dancers separately, fascinated by their stance, their expression, the easy grace with which some moved compared to others. In the centred group at the front, they had undoubtedly collected together the prettiest of the servant girls, for they all danced with an easy grace, their features fair, their figures slender. Yet even amongst these girls he could sense a difference. For the central dancer of the entire set was indeed a beauty. Tall, slender and attractive, she moved with a fluidic grace, her movements refined and yet provocative at the same time, smiling charmingly at first one and then another of the important men there, he could sense a cool, calculating mind behind that lovely smile. Another girl altogether, was one who danced to the right side of the central group, for, though she had a bright smiled upon her face, her eyes did not shine with the same brightness, causing it to seem almost brittle. There seemed to him something very sad and gentle about those eyes, for though her face was indeed lovely, it seemed almost ruined by the falseness of her smile. In his mind’s eye, he saw that face lighting up in pure joy, those dark eyes dancing with laughter. Without knowing why, he found something about her intrigued him greatly, though he knew not what it was.

Quite abruptly, Peridan realised the dance was over, and found himself applauding politely, whereas others among the crowd were cheering loudly, calling for encores. In the end, the girls filed out, the majority of them glancing across at the Narnian men, whether coyly or simply curiously, and Peridan became uncomfortably aware of the amount of interest himself and his men were causing. With reluctance, he turned to the feaster next to him, the extremely obese man who had been introduced to them as Master Tirshan, the owner of the home within which the Narnian delegation would be staying.

“Did you enjoy the entertainment, my lord?” The man asked, his double chin shaking in so comical a way that Peridan had to force himself to focus upon the man’s eyes.

“Indeed, Master Tirshan, it was most enlightening,” he replied politely, “I had never witnessed the Calormene style of dancing before.”

“Oh yes,” the large man replied, mopping him sweaty brow with a silken scarf, “it is a truly delightful spectacle. I thought that it might create an enjoyable diversion for you after so long a journey. For, as the poet says, ‘After long journey’s end no greater joy can be found than that of the eyes’ delight’.” Peridan blinked, not completely comprehending his host’s full meaning.

“Of course, Master Tirshan,” he agreed.

“Are there any of the young women that you would wish to become more closely acquainted with, my Lord Peridan? The central dancer is an exquisite young woman in my employ named Kediza, she is a lively companion, and my head servant girl.”

“Were they then your servant girls who danced, Master Tirshan?”

“Indeed they were, and specially chosen for their talents. The girls in gold were particularly chosen for their greater … gifts over the others.”

“I am sure that they were.”

“Do you not wish to partake of my offer, my lord?”

“I thank you for your kind offer, my friend, but I must decline, for I am sure that they must need to return home to their families at so later an hour.”

“Why no, my lord, for they are in my employ and therefore must do what I require of them. The girls in gold will be joining us regardless of your preference, for I wish to have a pleasurable distraction while our meal is eaten.” Horrified for a moment, Peridan carefully hid his surprise,

“Are they to be forced to stay, Master Tirshan?” The fat man laughed jovially,

“Indeed they will, my lord, or either leave at the displeasure of their master and lose their employ.” He bellowed with laughter at this as though it were some great joke, only causing Peridan to feel all the more disgusted, but at fear of offending, he forced himself to hold his tongue. For who was he to challenge the society of another land? All it did was to harden his resolve of dissuading Susan from so disastrous a marriage in so terrible a land.

“Very well, if they are to be forced to remain, I would ask for the company of one young woman, the maiden who danced to the right of the front set.” Tirshan grinned broadly, as though he had unveiled some great secret,

“Then my lord does have a preference from among the girls? Very well, I shall have all of the girls dressed in gold brought in, you shall have your pick of them, my Lord Peridan.” Grimacing, Peridan pretended to be reaching for more wine in an excuse to look away and hide his expression of disgust as Tirshan called a body-servant over.

“Bring in the girls,” he ordered, the leer broadening over his large face.

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When they had reached the sanctuary of the changing chamber once more, Karna had sunk upon a bench in relief, thankful that the entire ordeal was finally over. With a smile, she had turned to Tarlana, and had been about to ask her to unlace her bodice, when Kediza had entered the chamber suddenly, her smile broad and sly as she stared about at the assembled girls.

“Our great Master Tirshan has arrange a superior honour for those of you who wear golden clothes this night, for you are to join him and his renowned guests at the feast.” A large gasp spread about the room as the girls turned to one another, some envious, others grateful, others anxious. Karna was terrified, glancing at Tamara, her friend instantly reached out to take her hand, muttering,

“May Tash bless and protect you this night,” before they were all called by Kediza to join her. Suddenly desperate to escape, Karna glanced about her, looking for some means of exit, but finding none, forced herself to walk towards Kediza, picturing her mother’s gentle face within her mind, willing herself to accept her lot in life, to make the best of it.

The variety of reactions about the group of girls was astounding. There were those among their number who smiled smugly as Kediza, preening themselves in readiness. Then there were those like Karna who simply looked terrified, glancing about with wide eyes. One girl in particular, a pretty, petite creature named Kezara suddenly looked terribly young and vulnerable to Karna at that moment, so much so that she put her arm around the young girl.

“Please,” she said, trying to sound normal, “Kezara is but a child. Could not some other girl be chosen to fill her place?” Kediza swung round upon Karna so suddenly that the other girl jumped.

“How dare you question the order of our Master Tirshan and the will of Tash, the inexorable, the irresistible? It is an honour to be chosen and yet you scoff at it.” Before she could react, Kediza slapped Karna full across the mouth, causing an audible intake of breath from among the girls. “Does anyone else wish to question the command of our Master?” Kediza demanded, glaring around at the others. Silence reigned, and, nodding her head smugly, Kediza led the way out of the changing chamber, making certain that Karna followed.

They entered the dinning hall to great cheers from the assembled throng, being made to stand in a line whilst Master Tirshan made a long, pompous speech. In the end, he invited the barbarian lord to choose the girl whose company he desired, and for the first time, Karna dared to look upon the face of the stranger. Glancing up, she was astonished to find him regarding her with eyes that appeared violet in the candlelight. His skin was indeed pale, though not as that of cream as she had first been told, it was undoubtedly lighter than the tanned complexions of the Calormenean lords.

Wordlessly, she saw him search her face, and, almost as though she knew he was seeking her permission, she nodded her head, almost imperceptibly, but enough for him to note and reply.

“I would seek the company of that young lady, Master Tirshan,” pointing directly at her. Suddenly feeling afraid, Karna willed her legs to move and approached him, bowing her head respectfully. In a similar gesture, he bowed his head and took her hand, kissing it gently as he did so. Astonished and knowing not what to do, Karna merely kept her head bowed, feeling the colour that flushed across her cheeks.

However, the courtly gesture of the foreign lord had caused widespread merriment amongst Master Tirshan’s guests, and after he had chosen the glamorous Kediza, the other lords soon stood up, wishing to make their choice of the pretty girls before them. In horror, Karna watched as Lamarla was all but shoved into a seat by one Tarkhaan, a thin man she did not recognise, with a jutting chin and horribly suggestive eyes. In turn she saw Kezara chosen one of the barbarian soldiers, and found herself sighing a prayer of thanks to Tash as the warrior gently offered her wine.

She was so engrossed in watching the others that she did not remember her companion until he cleared his throat. Suddenly aware of her great rudeness, she turned to the barbarian lord, picking up the nearest tray and offering it to him.

“May I offer you some partridge, my lord?” she asked, “it is considered a delicacy.” Not daring to meet his eyes, she stared into her lap, not moving until she felt the removal of the tray from her arms. In response, she turned to him in surprise, only to be astonished at the tenderness that she found within those eyes; now realising they were blue in colour.

“I would ask your name, my lady,” he said, simply. Startled by so direct a gaze, Karna lowered her eyes.

“I am no lady, my lord. I am but a simple servant girl, not worth the attention of one such as yourself.” Now himself surprised, Peridan regarded her with amazement.

“Do you mean to say that in Calormenean, the name of a servant is of no importance to his master?” Unable to help herself, Karna stared at him in bewilderment.

“Of course, my lord. Is it not so in your own land?”

“In my own land of Narnia, miss, we consider each individual to be of value, including Calormenean servant girls. Now, with that in mind, would you permit me to know your name?”

“I am Karna, my lord.”

“Karna.” Peridan said it as though considering it; he repeated it a few times. “Does it mean anything?”

“I do no know, my lord.” Peridan smiled then,

“If I may be so bold, my name is Peridan. I would prefer it if you called me by it.”

“If that is your wish, my lord.”

“It is.”

“Very well, my lord Peridan.” Smiling openly now, Peridan took up the nearest dish and offered it to Karna.

“Would you care for some bread, lady Karna?” Uncertain, Karna reached for the dish, amazed that so great a lord saw fit to serve her personally.

“Is it always so in your land, my lord?”

“What do you mean?” Peridan asked, helping himself to some bread.

“Do lords always treat servants in the same way that they would treat those of noble birth?” Peridan turned to Karna gravely the next moment and nodded.

“In Narnia, Karna, we do believe that every creature, be they human or animal, has a right to respect and courtesy.”

“Animal, my lord?”

“Yes, animal Karna. For we have talking beasts within my land and one of my dearest friends is a faun.” Karna gasped,

“A faun, my lord Peridan?” Peridan laughed,

“Yes, a faun, lass. Half man, half goat, he if one of the wisest creatures I have ever met, and a better creature you will never find in all the world.”

“But do you not find it queer speaking with talking animals when you hunt them as well?”

“Ah, no, I would sooner cut off my own ear than hunt an animal that spoke. They are not all of that kind in my land, we have a great number of dumb beasts as well, and they are the kind that we hunt for food.” Karna shook her head in amazement,

“I cannot imagine being able to have speech with an animal! Are the horses that you ride of this speaking kindred?” Peridan laughed,

“Nay, Karna. The beasts that we ride are intelligent and courageous creatures, but they still require a guiding hand. It is not our right to take advantage of Aslan’s talking beasts, only with their permission would we ride upon their backs, and though some are glad enough to offer their services, we would never ride them without their express permission.” Karna regarded the Narnian lord in amazement, unable to comprehend the existence of animals that spoke and creatures that were half goat and half human. Yet, with her disbelief, her fear fled, and she found herself growing comfortable in the man’s presence, brave enough to ask questions of her own.

“What is your land of Narnia like, my lord Perdian? For we hear only rumour of green hills and deep forests, all of which is gossip. Tell me, in truth, what is it like?” For a moment, Peridan merely gazed into the distant, considering the question, yet also seeming to be lost in memory.

“It is home,” he said at last, “there is no-one born in Narnia that does not feel some connection with the land, and though I myself was born in the distant Archenland, Narnia has always been my home. There are tall mountains, sweeping and great, forests deep and green where the fauns and dryads dance in the night. There is a clearing named Dancing Glade where we have come together late in the night, dancing and singing around the fire, telling stories of the north, tales of Aslan, of times long ago. Then, overlooking the great sea that is to the west is the castle of Cair Paravel, the home of the four monarchs of our land. Incomparable is the wisdom of High King Peter the Magnificent, for, brave and just, he has ruled our land of Narnia for years uncounted, fair and true to all, there is none to whom he may be compared. King Edmund the Just is to come with Queen Susan upon her journey hence to meet your Prince, and the like of his justice will not be found in any other land, for honourable he is and skilled in swordplay, a great warrior of men. Queen Susan the Gentle is the caring and compassionate, so sweet and trusting is she, she is beloved of all our people, and Queen Lucy … I know none like her. For she is valiant and brave, yet quick to laugh and the merriest lady that you will ever meet. She has ever been able to befriend those who are shy or uncomfortable, for there is an honest, deeply loving nature within her, the like of which I had never previously known, she is a marvel to me.”

He was silent for a time, merely staring into the distance, a faint smile playing across his lips. Karna watched him, astounded at the deep devotion that this man had for his country, with such a loyalty and even love of it that the mere mention caused his eyes to shine. She imagined Calormen in her own mind, warm, dusty and busy, saw the great hills to the north, thought of the proud knights of her land that had fought to gain territory, and yet she felt no pride. Try as she might, the only emotion that she could conjure up to express her feelings towards her land was neutrality, perhaps even a little shame. For the glory of a Tisroc was measured how much territory he won, how strong his army was, not in the depth of his wisdom.

“What are you thinking of, Karna?” Drawn from her reverie, Karna jumped, quickly turning to her companion, she apologised for her distraction. “Not at all,” Peridan replied with a smile, “I often find my mind wondering and can often not recall what I was previously speaking of. What was in your thoughts to immerse you so greatly?” Blushing slightly, she replied,

“I was thinking of how wonderful your land must be to inspire so great a loyalty within your heart, my lord.”

“Does not yours, Karna?” Suddenly uncomfortable, Karna lowered her eyes.

“Of course my lord, my land of Calormen is great and illustrious, we have a wise and indomitable Tisroc (may he live forever) and a brave prince whose courage on the battlefield is incomparable and renowned.” She was silent for a time, not meeting Peridan’s eyes, feeling ashamed, certain that she had, in some way, brought dishonour upon her land.

Peridan observed the girl thoughtfully, considering her words and her great reluctance to now meet his eyes. At that moment, there was something terribly naïve and innocent about Karna, a fact that was only accentuated by how odd provocative quality of her outfit appeared next to it. She seemed utterly lost in that moment, afraid of offending, and yet unable to suppress some hidden yearning. Without knowing why, Peridan reached out, tilting her chin up to look into her dark eyes, touched to his heart by the unshed tears he saw glistening there.

“Never feel ashamed of dreaming, Karna. I myself dream of things, as a lad I was filled with ambition. It is what it is to be young. You have no reason to feel guilty of having hope, it is one of the greatest gifts that you can have.”

“But, my lord, what right have I to question the destiny that Tash has deigned that I should have within my life? For he does know all.”

“In Narnia, we do not worship Tash, Karna, but the son of the great lord over the sea, the mighty Aslan. We believe that it was he who first created this earth and all the peoples within it, and we would also accept that Aslan has decided upon the life to which we are to live. But we believe that every turmoil in this life has a purpose, that through difficult situations, Aslan teaches us, for he loves us.” Karna regarded the man, desperate to ask a certain question, but still terribly afraid of offending.

“Do not fear me, Karna.” He smiled at her, his blue eyes warm and encouraging in the firelight. Drawing courage from his smile, she spoke,

“What form does Aslan take?”

“He takes no form, Karna, he is a lion. He is not a spirit. He has and always will be a lion, so has it always been.” Karna closed her eyes, willing the tears that threatened to subside, for throughout their conversation, she had been longing to ask that question, and now that she had heard the truth, she felt no doubt within her heart that it truly had been a apparition this Aslan that she had met that night.

“Have you ever seen a lion, my lord?” Peridan smiled,

“I have done more than that Karna, for I have beheld Aslan, face-to-face.” Karna gasped, afraid to hear more, but unable to refrain from asking,

“But how can you have seen a deity my lord?”

“He is not a deity who is distant and does not care for those of his land, Karna. It was he that led our great kings and queens into Narnia from a distant and, utterly out of this world.”

“A land out of this world, my lord?” Becoming more confused with every moment, Karna began to doubt what she heard, trying to make sense of it, and failing more with each attempt to understand. “How can that be possible?” Peridan refrained from answering, seeing the girl’s confusion, he decided to change the topic of conversation, enquiring instead after her family.

“Who is your father, Karna? What is his living?”

“My mother’s husband is a carver my lord, he is very adept at carving images of Tash (may he be praised) from wood and stone, they are excellently finished and enable us to exist with relative ease.”

“How many are there within your family?”

“I have two brothers, who aid my father in the market each day. One of my sisters and I work under the employ of Master Tirshan, and my youngest sister was lately married. She is now a wife and not required to secure an income for her home. Other than that, there is my mother whom I love above others.” She paused, wondering why on earth she had said those last words. Yet Peridan did not seemed surprised by it, actually inquiring as to whether she was close to her mother? Karna smiled,

“Yes, my lord, we are very close. It is my mother who understands me the best, she alone that knows the whole truth within my heart.” Peridan smiled,

“It was the same between my father and I. My mother died when I was but a lad, and since there were no other children, my father grew to love me fiercely, teaching me the art of sword craft from a young age, sharing all with me. In such a way did I return this devotion, for my father was the man that I idolised and loved with all my soul. Late into the night he would enchant me tales of valour, recite legends of past wars and battles, acts of bravery and courage that held me enraptured. I was but sixteen when he died in a hunt, and it was as though a piece of my heart was taken with him. For nigh on a year, I lived a half-life, caring little for anything, though my good uncle and his sweet wife were very good to me, seeking to treat me as one of their sons, I was never at ease within their home. Then, upon the eve of my seventeenth birthday, word reached our land that a great battle was to happen within Narnia that for years had been under the grips of an enchanted winter, for a powerful sorceress was said to rule the land. Upon hearing of the bold king Peter and his brothers and sisters, I rode away with a few friends to offer my service to this great king. However, alas, we reached the land after their great victory and at once offered our service to High King Peter who was at that time little more than a lad, but with the bearing of a king. In essence, the king of monarch that I had longed within my dreams to serve, and thus did I enter the service of the king, and Narnia became my home.” Throughout Peridan’s relating, Karna had listened, enchanted and fascinated by the tale.

“I am sorry for your loss, my lord.”

“Thank you, but it was many years ago, Karna, and I found what I had lost within my father, in my service of King Peter. Narnia truly became the home to me that Archenland had never really felt to be, the kings and queens became my brothers and sisters. I could not think myself luckier.” Karna smiled, casting her eyes down into her lap, she took a slice of honeyed melon from her plate, eating it slowly, enjoying the taste, despite herself, for such luxuries as honey did not exist within her frugal existence.

Peridan regarded her in silence, marvelling at the difference between women of Calormen. For the highborn ladies that he had met that afternoon had all flirted shamelessly with him, smelling of spices and exotic flowers, their faces attractively painted, their heads adorned with flowers and ornate headdresses. The Tarkheenas’ very manner of conversation had seemed practised and graceful, coquettish and yet demure. In contrast, Karna’s eagerness was unfeigned and innocent, her manner truthfully shy, her appearance almost ruined by the obvious allurement of the revealing outfit. There was sweetness, purity to her that he found incredibly refreshing, so different to the practised charm of the other women, more like that of the honest, caring women of Narnia.

He was about to speak when he saw Master Tirshan rise, the great mass of frills upon his stomach fluttering with the sudden movement.

“It is time,” he declared, “that these lovely girls depart, for we do not wish to worry their parents.” This caused an outburst of barked laughter from all of the Calormen men assembled again, Peridan found the mirth of it lost to him, but forced a polite smile. In a single graceful movement, the head servant girl rose, smiling seductively at her master for a moment before gesturing that the other girls follow her.

More than willing to oblige, several of the girls almost sprang away from the benches, smiling at their companions with as much dignity as they could muster. Karna alone seemed sad to depart her companion’s company, but bowed her head to him respectfully, thanking him for his conversation.

“I thank you for your company, lady Karna,” Peridan replied as solemnly, and, taking her hand within his own, kissed it gently, before bowing to her. She made to leave, before pausing by him for a moment,

“Thank you for telling me on your land, my lord,” she whispered, “and giving me the courage to dream once more.”

Peridan bowed to her again, watching her quick retreat, both surprised and greatly sorrowed.

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Sometimes the journey makes you weary,

Feels like a long and winding road,

Sometimes this life and can lose its meaning,

But you might be surprised to find some hope.

Maybe your wondering where love is,

You may feel its far away from here,

Maybe you’re wondering where I am,

You might be surprised to find I’m near.

And when your life is tossed and turning,

And you are on the raging sea,

I’ll come and pull you from the water,

Then you will know that you are free.

So if you’re stumbling through the valley,

Or if you’re tempted to give up the fight,

Reach out your hand and I will lead you,

I will be your strong arm in the night.

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Chapter 5 - Chapter Five

Daring to Dream

Chapter Five

In a mass of giggling and rustling cloth, the servant girls hurried into the changing chamber, most of them very relived to have escaped from the meal without any further repercussions. Karna was definitely among them, and yet, she felt almost elated at the same time, certain within herself that she could endure, the remembrance of Peridan’s words still vivid in her mind. Words of encouragement, words that told her it was the greatest gift of all to dream, to hope for a better future. She stood for a moment, revelling in the comfort of his words, when someone clutching at her arm brought her very abruptly back to reality. Spinning round, she came face to face with several excited girls, chattering all at once,

“Oh Karna, what was he like?”

“What an honour to have been chosen out of us all! Weren’t you very pleased?”

“I was so jealous, you are so lucky!”

“What was his name?” Karna smiled, this last one being from Lamarla,

“Lord Peridan,” she replied, “he was kindness itself, so respectful of me. He actually served me himself. I would have never expected such an action from so high a lord, for he is a close friend of the barbarian queen and her brothers and sister.”

“You are so lucky!” one girl squealed before giggling shrilly, her eyes dancing rather alarmingly.

“Tarleen, did you drink much of the wine?” one of others asked, regarding her friend with mild amusement. The smaller girl giggled again,

“Just a small amount, Master Lirishta encouraged me to. He chose me personally, what greater honour could there have been?” Karna raised her eyebrows, exchanging an anxious glance with Lamarla before taking control of the situation, gently, but firmly steering the intoxicated girl towards a bench.

“I am sure that it was, Tarleen. Now, come along, for you must change, your mother and father shall be expecting you home sooner rather than later.”

“But my sister went ahead of me,” Tarleen exclaimed, laughing once more, so shrilly that it was ear-gratingly high. Several girls flinched at the noise, and a few sought to aid Karna in the girl’s dressing. In a short time, they had managed to change her back into her normal dress, and left her to laugh softly to herself, going to change themselves.

The majority of the girls had removed all remnants of their costume by the time Kediza came in, but every servant girl paused at her entrance, watching her almost fearfully. In response, she merely stared at them for a moment, as though assessing every girl present, judging whether she were worthy of her attention. Eventually, however, she did speak,

“I bring word from Master Tirshan,” she announced, “we are all to receive an extra gold coin for our part in the festivities this night. The barbarian lord was most pleased with the entertainment; he also spoke with great regard towards you, Karna. For this, and your service, you have the thanks of your master, and myself.” Karna blinked in surprise, amazed that Kediza was actually thanking her. “We are given leave to depart from our master’s house, may we pray that Tash the inexorable, the irresistible is honoured through the barbarian queen’s visit.” In response, all of the girls bowed their heads, silent as Kediza spoke a brief prayer to their god, with even Tarleen remaining quiet for it.

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The girls filed silently out of the house, conversing in whispers as they stole into the darkness of the city. Anxious for the safety of Tarleen, Karna and Lamarla had volunteered to take her home, and, supporting her slender frame between them, they made slow progress through the darkened streets, only a torch lighting their way as they hurried along.

“I wish that we could have left with the others,” Lamarla said anxiously, glancing around at the shadowed corners as they passed gloomy alleyways. “I don’t feel safe at all.”

“We’ll be alright,” Karna replied with a confidence that she did not feel, “there’s no-one about, it must be past midnight by now, everyone will be abed.” Tarleen giggled at that,

“All in bed!” she exclaimed, a little too loudly, “everyone in asleep and we’re the only one awake!”

“Hush Tarleen,” Lamarla said quickly, “they won’t be for long if you are not quiet.” Tarleen giggled inanely,

“Why do I want to be quiet when I’m up so late? Mother would never have let me, but because I was ordered by Master Tirshan, it’s my duty to stay up late, and to be chosen because I am beautiful, can there be any greater honour?”

“No, Tarleen, there can’t,” Karna agreed, willing to say anything, if only to quieten the girl, “but now that the evening is over you must go home and sleep. For if you don’t then you won’t be rested for tomorrow morning and would you truly be fulfilling your duty to Master Tirshan if you turned up tired?” This hushed Tarleen, and as she considered, the truth of it slowly dawned upon her drunken mind, making sense to her.

“I can’t not do my duty,” she stated solemnly after a while, “let’s go home, I have to be prepared tomorrow.” Sighing thankfully, Karna and Lamarla helped her along the street, reaching her door more swiftly than they had at first hoped; she slipped inside without a backward look, a solemn expression on her face, as though determined to fulfil her duty to the best of her ability.

For a moment, the two of them simply stood, silently thanking Tash for the silence that covered the street. In the sky, thousands of stars shone, beautiful and radiant, yet depthless and distant, they spread from one horizon to the other. Transfixed by them, Karna merely stared, amazed, for they had ever dwelt above the land, never changing, constant and beautiful. They had seen the rise and fall of worlds, and yet had ever been the same.

“Karna?” Turning, she saw Lamarla staring at her strangely, her face eerily shadowed by the flickering torch. “We should go, we must be rested for tomorrow.”

“Of course,” Karna replied, “let’s go. We should probably go via your home first, it is closer.”

“What were you staring at the sky for?”

“I was just looking at the stars, thinking how old they must be, I can’t imagine being that old.” Lamarla regarded her friend strangely,

“You’re not meant to, Karna, for no-one is that old, only Tash (may he be praised) is immortal. Why you think of such things, I don’t know. The most my sister ever considers is whether a handsome young man will be attracted to her enough to make her his wife.” Karna laughed softly, taking her friend’s arm.

“I don’t know why I do either, Lamarla,” but I am just glad that I have your practicality to bring me back to reality.”

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When she reached her home, Karna opened the door as quietly as she could, cringing as the rusted bolts groaned loudly, she saw the lamp left burning, thanking Tash for the sense of Tarlana, before she noticed the figure sitting by the table. Covered by her old woollen shawl, her mother sat, her eyes bright and alert, regarding her daughter with kind eyes.

“Mother, why did you stay awake for my return?” Karna asked, taking the only other chair. With a gentle smile, her mother pushed a cup towards her,

“I wanted to make sure that you drank this before you slept, it is a remedy that will cure any ailment created by the wine.” Laughing softly, Karna kissed her mother’s cheek fondly,

“How kind you are, oh my mother, to stay awake into the night just to ensure that I might not have a headache the next day. Where is there one so considerate in the entire world? Yet though it was a kind act, it was not necessary, for I drunk none of the wine this night. The barbarian lord chose me for his companion throughout the meal and was more kind and considerate than I have ever known a man to be. Even though I am a mere servant girl, he served me food with his own hands, he poured water into my glass, he even told me to call him by his first name. I have never met a man like him.”

“What an honour to be chosen, my daughter,” her mother replied, “ And to be chosen from all of the girls dressed in gold? Tash be praised!”

“Yes,” Karna admitted, “Tash indeed be praised. I felt very honoured.”

“And what was the lord’s name?”

“Lord Peridan, Mother; he was so kind, I cannot express it. I had never even imagined it possible for there to be a place where everyone could be treated with the same respect, yet they are within Narnia. He told me that everyone, whether lord or servant, man or woman or even talking beast, all are valued and treated in the same manner.” Her mother stared at her in surprise,

“What? The lowest slave is treated in the same way as their king?” Karna smiled,

“Perhaps not exactly the same, but each is shown respect.” But, unexpectedly, her mother did not return the smile, rather, she almost appeared anxious,

“My daughter, such a society does not make sense. The very notion of it is ridiculous, for how would such a world run without utter chaos ensuing? If slaves are not treated with contempt then they do not fear their masters, if servants are not forced to obey the will of their employer, then they take advantage of that weakness. Everyone has a place within this society, it is not for us to question what Tash has deigned will be our lot in life. You have indulged in these ridiculous fantasies long enough, Karna, it is time that you accepted your place in this world. You are not a queen; neither can you expect to be treated as one. Ever have you dreamed, even longed for things to not be as they are, but they have not changed and nor are they like to. Accept what you have and be grateful for it, oh my daughter.” Suddenly grim, she took her daughter’s hands, catching her gaze almost desperately; Karna was shocked at tears she saw glistening there.

“Do not live in the hope of impossible dreams, Karna. For if you do, it will destroy you, you will waste away longing for something that will never come to pass. I tell you this because I was once such a one myself. In my youth, I dreamed and hoped for love in my marriage, and I was lucky enough to be chosen by a man so kind and loving that I could indulge those dreams, but I was forced to grow up, and reality hit me in the most painful way possible. So, on the day that my father married me to Tarneesh, I let go of my youth, of my unfulfilled dreams and decided to embrace the life that Tash had created for me, for that alone is real, my daughter. I would not have you go through the same pain that I went through, and that is why I urge you, nay, beg you, let go of these dreams and be happy in your existence. Do not wish for more, accept your lot in life and be content.”

In that moment, Karna could suddenly see her mother’s life, see the hopes and dreams of her youth, see the pain and suffering of that fateful moment when all of it had proved in vain. Her exultation at Peridan’s words faded as though it had been some passing dream, and, in this woman’s eyes, she saw the reality of life, saw the truth of what it was. She forced herself to consider the doubtfulness of what she had hoped for ever coming true, and, with a terrible sorrow, she bid her dreams farewell, determined to never give her mother cause to worry for her again.

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The weeks passed gradually, and with the cooler nights giving way to the greater heat of the Calormean spring, Peridan found himself yearning more than ever for the lush green glades and cool sea breezes of the country he loved. Yet, for all his yearning, he was unable to dwell upon it for long; for with his arrival had also arisen a multitude of preparations that needed doing in anticipation of the delegation’s arrival. From morning until night, he found himself besieged with organising social gatherings, inspecting whether the furnishings of bedchambers were appropriate and even giving advice concerning menus! In particular, the Calormeans seemed to be going to great lengths to satisfy the delegation’s preferences, and most particularly, that of Queen Susan.

Throughout the busyness of those chaotic days, Peridan was so concerned with the matter in hand that he seldom gave thought to anything else. It was only at night that he would walk upon the balcony, free from the curious, prying eyes and feigned smiles of the nobility, to be alone with his thoughts. In those evenings, he would stroll about, or merely stand, staring at the vast expanse of stars above him, appreciating the one thing that he truly loved about this country, the nights. For, though he loved Narnia, it was a land far greener than Calormen, and because of this, was given to having more clouds at night, sometimes blocking the beauty of the stars. But in this drier country, rain clouds seldom came, and because of it, the skies were always perfectly clear at night, a wide sapphire shroud studded with diamond-bright stars.

Peridan sighed gently; settling himself upon a rush mat, he simply stared up at the depthless skies. No sound disturbed the peace of the night, not even a stray breath of wind. Everything was still and at peace.

Only in moments such as this was Peridan able to find complete calm, to collect his thoughts and meditate upon the events of the day. Without knowing why, he found his mind drifting back to the servant girl, Karna. He had thought about her often in the past few weeks, though he had not seen her since, she had intrigued him. Sweet, innocent and gentle she had seemed, yet at the same time eager, curious and even bold when she had gathered her courage. She had reminded him of himself as a lad, yet she had appeared to be older, and if he was to have guessed, he would have thought her to be about eighteen or seventeen year of age. But her very eagerness had reminded him of one much younger, still free and unconstrained, filled with the joy of youth, still unblemished by the hardships of reality.

He smiled softly to himself, imagining Lucy’s same exuberance and joy in life that she had never abandoned, even after her many years of being queen. For despite the length of their friendship, he often forgot how young she still was, having been just eight when she had discovered the way into their world, she was now only eighteen, the same age he supposed Karna to be. Yet, for her few years, she was a learned warrior and a talented archer, not to mention a skilled rider. In that moment, Peridan found himself longing for the company of his dear friends, to be dining with them in the great hall of Cair Paravel, listening to some bard’s song, or listening to Tumnus relating some ancient tale of Narnia.

He missed them.

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“Karna, come here.” Flinching at the sudden command, Karna turned to her father, hurriedly approaching him.

“Yes, oh my Father and the delight of my eyes?” With a solemn, slightly mocking expression, Tarneesh beheld his stepdaughter,

“How would you like to be married as your sister is?” Her eyes widening, Karna regarded her stepfather in astonishment, only remembering at the last moment to hold her tongue. “I have been asked to give my consent by Master Lavarin.” Karna blanched, for Master Lavarin was the local blacksmith, and a hefty, ruddy man with a strangely proportioned face, having small, dark eyes and lips that had always struck her as overly large. However, the main cause for her discrete shudder was her remembrance of the looks that he was always giving her and Tarlana when they passed his workshop entrance. She had never experienced such blatant leers as those that he gave, all of which never failed to make her shudder.

Tarneesh regarded her expectantly, waiting for her response, his eyes burning her skin with the intensity of his stare. Karna felt the eyes of all her family upon her at that moment, and glancing over at her mother, saw the pleading in those soft eyes, begging her to accept, to not anger her step-father. Tears came unbidden to her eyes as she desperately sought for some excuse to not give her consent. However, when none arose, she fought the tears back, bowed her head, and knelt before her father,

“Your words greatly please me, my father.” Grunting in assent, Tarneesh forcibly raised her chin, seeing the unwept tears within those eyes, and the great sorrow. Yet, instead of being angry, he merely smirked, pushing her face away with a grin of triumph, he snorted, heading towards the bedding chamber with a decided spring to his usual slouching step. Only turning back for a moment in the doorway, he announced that he would be visiting Master Lavarin the following evening to finalise their agreement, he left the room, followed swiftly by both his sons and wife, leaving the two sisters alone.

Tarlana remained where she was, listening cautiously to the action within the next room, the murmuring of her mother, the gruff grunts of her father, not daring to move towards her sister until her father slept. After a time, she chanced a glance up from her work, and was unnerved by the hunched-up form of Karna, still sat in the same position as when she had knelt in front of their father. Forgetting her fear in the face of her sister’s strange behaviour, Tarlana left her seat, softly calling Karna’s name, yet not even that moved her sister.

After some hesitation, she moved to gently touch her sister’s arm, at last gaining a reaction from the girl in a sudden flinch. Karna jerked her head around; staring at Tarlana is surprise, revealing a face that shocked her sister to her very core. For the face that stared at her was not that of her sister. In the place of the normally bright, dancing eyes were a dull, slightly glazed pair that barely acknowledged her. Unchecked tears stained her cheeks, leaving tracks in the dust that she had not even bothered to wipe away. The features were expressionless and blank, showing neither joy nor sorrow at the prospect of her marriage, utterly void of the hidden strength that had always defined Karna in her eyes.

Horrified by Karna’s appearance, Tarlana felt tears coming to her own eyes. In a final attempt to seek some reassurance, she took her sister’s hand, relieved to find it still warm, she gazed at her imploringly, begging her to show some recognition, to be herself. But in response, she got mere indifference. Karna took her hand back from her sister’s hold, and, rising gracefully, she headed over to the remains of that night’s water, splashing her face with it, removing all trace of the tears.

“Karna?” She turned, regarding her sister with mild curiosity,

“Yes, Tarlana?” Still unnerved by her sister’s action, Tarlana asked her, her eyes beseeching,

“What think you of father’s proposal?” Her sister shrugged,

“If it is father’s will, then I shall marry Master Lavarin. For it is a daughter’s duty to fulfil her father’s will. I shall be content with the truth of that, my sister. Besides, by marrying Master Lavarin I shall be ensuring a secure income for my future, it is a blessing from Tash (may he be praised), and it would foolish to hope for more than that which I have in my life.” Shocked, Tarlana shook her head,

“But Karna, what of the number of times that we spoke of our dislike of Master Lavarin? Do you not remember the looks that he always gives? He has ever disgusted you, and you have spoken exactly so, yourself.” Again, Karna shrugged,

“We cannot be children all our lives, Tarlana. I can’t indulge foolish whims any longer, I have to accept what I am and be grateful for whatever opportunities I am given in life to secure my future.” Utterly confused, Tarlana nodded slowly, and merely stood, watching as her sister calmly entered the sleeping chamber, in that moment knowing that her life had just lost one of its greatest joys.

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Chapter 6 - Chapter Six

Daring to Dream

Chapter Six

Vast, magnificent and endless, the sea spread from one horizon to the next before her; deep and blue, it seemed to go on forever, capturing her imagination and making her dream of far off lands. Such had it always been for Queen Lucy of Narnia, for she had been gifted with a vivid imagination, and from a young age, had been able to create great, distant kingdoms with her mind, infinite and beautiful. Thus did she now try to picture Calormen, attempting to find a satisfactory image of it within her head. Yet, she found herself unable to see beyond the scene of a large, dusty place, barren of all that was green and lovely. For, try as she might, Lucy could not comprehend the idea of her sister’s marrying, it just seemed so peculiar a thing to her mind.

Though it must have been about their tenth year of living within Narnia, she still thought of Susan as the playmate of her youth, and had also seen her brothers react with similar uncertainty to the proposal of Susan’s marrying, unable to conceive the idea. Indeed, they seemed to have ruled their fair land for years uncounted, and at times, it had only been through Peter’s referral that she had recalled something of the life they had once led. However, though she could not recall a great deal about the land that they had come from, it did not concern her nearly so much as the sense of unease that the very mention of Calormen caused. She could not understand it, but the very thought of Susan marrying the prince of that land filled her with dread, and in counsel, she had found Peridan to feel a similar way.

She pondered this for a time, trying to make sense of it, confused at why she should feel so concerned, for if Susan was happy with the match, why then should they be? In the midst of her considerations, she happened to turn, and suddenly smiled at the approach of another. A tall man drew near, fair of face and kindly mannered, he had not changed in all their years in Narnia, only growing more wise and aware of the needs of others with the passing off the years.

When he reached her, he returned her smile warmly, gently kissing her brow by way of greeting before turning to stare upon the great sea.

“Do you contemplate our sister’s leaving, Lucy?” Neither feeling the need to turn from the magnificence of the view, Lucy merely nodded,

“I fear that the decision is rashly made, Peter. I know not why, but some fear, some unexplained concern dwells in my heart and will not give me ease. I fear that no good will come of this journey.” After a moment, the high king turned to his sister, and she was able to seen her own anxiety mirrored within his eyes.

“You have perceived it as well,” he said, “And I do think that our brother shares our concern. He swore to me that he would protect Susan with all his power, and of course he will, but I fear that we shall need more than mere brute-strength to keep our sister safe. Let us pray that Aslan will guide them and keep all our friends safe as they undertake this dangerous journey.”

Lucy nodded gravely, allowing a small smile to grace her lips despite her concern,

“At least we shall know that Aslan is watching over them. Fear not, my brother, for though we are concerned, let us remember the truth, that Aslan will not let harm come to them, we must learn to trust him, regardless of what we feel.” Peter turned to his sister, giving her a tender smile,

“Ever have you been right about such matters, my dear sister, I doubt not that in this you also speak true. For with Aslan, we can trust all.”

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The change that had been wrought within Karna soon became evident to all, and by the end of the week even the boorish, slow-witted Kanzeesh grew to notice how little his older sister now smiled and laughed. Instead, she aided her mother wordlessly and without complaint, no longer defying their father, or indeed, anyone in word, deed or even look. She simply went through her daily routine, rising even before their father did to get the water, preparing the meals, and doing her allotted tasks more efficiently than she ever had before, and yet, without a sparkle of wit, or a single smile flashed across the room.

In response to this behaviour, Tarneesh simply treated her with the same indifference, feeling even less interest for her now that she was acquiescing, merely glad that he could in the future, look forward to a time when she would no longer eat his food or be a constant thorn in his side. For, with all possible swiftness, he and Lavarin had discussed the wedding plans, finalising the amount suitable for a dowry, and both getting a great sense of pleasure from it.

To Lavarin, it was a great arrangement, for he would be getting not only a wife from the agreement, but a young, beautiful and biddable girl who would be his soul possession for the rest of his life. The very thought of it brought a leer to his round face, the unconscious licking his large lips, as hungrily, in his mind’s eye, he saw the girl, tall, slender and lovely, standing before him in her wedding gown; his and his alone. For, though he was but a blacksmith, Lavarin had a terrible vanity, thinking himself a handsome man by Calormen’s standard and, because of this, often felt that Karna and he would greatly compliment each other when married.

From the first moment that he had seen her, Lavarin had been taken with her easy-grace, the way that her eyes sparkled when she laughed, the slender litheness of her figure. But where he had been endowed with a great self-importance of his own worth, Lavarin greatly lacked the courage to declare it to other people. A tall, rotund man with large, bulky features and an aggravatingly superior air, he was regarded with dislike by many in the local community; however, in this circumstance people’s opinions were often kept to themselves, for his skill as a blacksmith was an undeniable one, and very much essential.

So it was that he felt a great sense of elation upon seeing his bride-to-be the day following his finished bartering with her father. He stood, filling the open doorway of his workshop, basking in both the radiance of the sun’s light and greatness of his own brilliance, watching her sister and her approach. They walked together, not speaking as they always had, but silent and strangely solemn. However, any further consideration of this behaviour did not occur to Lavarin, who, upon seeing Karna, instantly began comparing the slightness of her frame to that of Tarlana’s stocky, larger build, taking great pleasure from it, almost missing them as they passed his doorway, only realising at the last moment that he had every right to stop Karna.

“Good day to you, Karna,” he said, smiling at her sudden jerk as she halted, smugly enjoying the power he could now hold over her. “In the name of Tash, (my he be praised), how far you this day?” He regarded her, oblivious to the subtle shudder that ran down her back as she turned to face him,

“Good day to you, Master Lavarin,” she said, her expression completely neutral, “I am well I thank you. In the name of Tash (may he be praised) how fare you this day?” The blacksmith smiled broadly, and, taking her small hands within his own, caught her gaze,

“I am very well, I thank you. In fact, I have never been so content within my whole life.” Silent for a moment, his betrothed seemed to swallow hard before smiling a smile that might have seemed pained had he not understood that nerves were a common occurrence within young brides. For a moment, his smile became almost kind as he beheld the girl before him. “Do not fear me, Karna, I shall provide for you; you will want for nothing as my wife.”

“I assure you, I am certain of it, Master Lavarin,” she replied quietly, “I shall hope to make you a suitable wife, that Tash may honour our union.” Beholding this meekness and docility within his future bride only succeeded in exciting Lavarin all the more at the prospect of her being his. So much so that, without a thought, he brought her hand to his lips, sucking upon the smooth skin in delight for a moment, before recalling himself and releasing her apologetically.

“I would not be the cause of your being late for your employment; I bid you good day, Karna. Please give my compliments to your honoured father.” Unable to trust herself to respond, Karna merely nodded, forced a strained smile and fled with Tarlana, desperately trying to keep the tears from her eyes.

Once they had escaped from the market square and the prying eyes of strangers, Tarlana turned to her sister, the tears all too evident in her dark eyes. Desperate to gain control of her emotions, Karna stopped for a moment, leaning against a wall, struggling to fight back the tears that threatened to spill down her cheeks, her head in her hands. She stood thus for a matter of minutes, watched by Tarlana, uncertain as to how she should act, a mixture of pity, concern and anxiety chasing through her mind. In the end, however, she was not forced to act, as Karna straightened, her face passive as she turned to regard Tarlana, the tears wiped from her eyes.

Yet, in a way, Tarlana found this reaction more upsetting than the other, for instead of confiding within her, Karna had now become completely aloof, not speaking any more of her dreams or hopes, but neither of her worries. She had simply become a closed book, isolating herself from others completely, so much so that even their mother could not gain anything more than a passive answer from her. In the past week, she had lost all touch with her older sister, and in her place there now existed a quiet, restrained girl who never seemed to speak without having previously considered her words. So much did Tarlana miss the old Karna, that she had grown desperate in her mind, and it was this that drove her to exclaim,

“Karna, why will you not speak with me any more? Are you not upset?” With an infuriatingly mild expression, Karna turned to her sister,

“I do speak with you, Tarlana,” she replied calmly, “and though I might have been surprised by the … enthusiasm of Master Lavarin’s action, it is to be expected, for he is my betrothed.”

“But Karna, you have been so altered this week, you are no longer yourself.” For a moment, Tarlana saw a pain enter those dark eyes, before being replaced by the now-normal calm,

“My sister, we are all forced to grow up within our lives, and with that comes the letting go of our immaturity. It is a choice that we are all forced to make.”

“At the consequence of destroying a part of who you are?” Karna blanched, and Tarlana could see the struggle she was undergoing in her attempt to maintain control. “You struggle Karna, I can see it in your eyes. Why are you forsaking your very nature? Everyone loves you for who you are; no-one can recognise this new girl who had appeared this past week, and I am sure that even Master Lavarin would prefer to have the old Karna for his wife.” Suddenly, Karna was unable to stand it any more, and she felt her restraint give way and, try though she might, she could not stop the tears that began to fall once more. Shaking her head, she turned to Tarlana,

“I have to,” she said, “if I do not accept what your father has decided Tarlana, I shall cause our mother such pain and bring yet more dishonour upon our family. I never wanted to distance myself from you all, but it is the only way that I can do this; I cannot marry Master Lavarin as I am, for it would kill me. His gesture …” She did not divulge further, but the shudder that ran through her spoke just as plainly of the dread that she felt about the blacksmith.

“But Karna, why must you change who you are, merely to live?” Tarlana asked, gently taking her older sister in her arms, letting her sob wretchedly, for the first time, shedding a week of suppression and misery. After she had regained control, Karna wiped her eyes,

“I have to change. For I have to accept the fate that Tash (may he be praised) has deigned to be my destiny, but I have to let go of my hopes Tarlana, because they do nothing but encourage me to fight, to not acknowledge your father’s right to choose my husband.” Though her sister’s words filled her with sorrow, Tarlana was finally able to comprehend Karna’s odd behaviour, and could at last endeavour to help her sister accept her duty and fulfil it.

“You will not have to do it alone,” she stated firmly, gently smoothing her sister’s hair. “But never, never isolate yourself again, oh my sister. It broke my heart to not know you this past week, it was as though I was living with another person entirely.” Karna returned the hug gratefully, finally managing a smile.

“Then I shall be able to face it.” For the first time in what seemed like an age, Tarlana also found herself smiling,

“I love you Karna,” she said, “I know it is frowned upon to speak in such a manner, but I cannot help it. You are my sister, and you have never failed to make me smile, to comfort me when I was forlorn. What sort of a sister would I be if I did not help you in your own time of need?” Karna merely stared at her sister for a moment as though she had never truly seen her before. By appearance, she was a normal Calormene girl, but within her, there was a wisdom that Karna had never been able to see, and not just wisdom, but also an understanding of who she was, of what place she had in their society, and a calm acceptance of that. She saw their mother’s patience, her fortitude, and felt suddenly ashamed. For in all the years of their life together, she had ever thought of Tarlana as young and fanciful, admiring the prince, but had never considered the young woman that her sister was becoming, the way she had grown, and now truly regretted it.

“I love you as well, my sister, and I am sorry for the pain that I have brought you.” Tarlana smiled,

“Then had we best not tarry any longer? For we shall be late for work if we do not, and I for one would rather not lose my employment this day.” With an amused smile, Karna followed her sister without a word.

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Lord Peridan of Narnia was seriously considering whether the day he was now enduring could to be counted among the most tedious of his existence. For, he had bourne the company of Tarkhaan Dallakin and his wife, Tarkheena Lasarleen for the entirety of the morning, and was now finding it a terrible effort to appear interested in the endless prattle of the attractive, though rather silly Tarkheena and the thoughtful, deliberate pauses of her grave, stolid husband, who might have been the contemporary of her father in age.

“Tell me, my dear Lord Peridan, when did you say that the queen and her brother were arriving?”

“Queen Susan the gentle and her great brother, King Edmund are to arrive with the birth of the next new moon, my lady Tarkheena,” he replied politely.

“You must await their arrival with much anticipation, for are you not of close fellowship with the kings and queens?”

“They are, my lady, as close to me as kin. I do think upon the kings as my brothers, and their majesties the queens Susan and Lucy, as my sisters.” At this, the lady simpered, fluttering her eyelashes in what Peridan could only consider a coquettish manner.

“You must be greatly trusted by the kings then, my Lord Peridan, to think of them in such an intimate manner.” Forcing himself to refrain from sighing in aggravation, Peridan merely nodded, as this was a question which almost every Tarkhaan or Tarkheena he had already met had asked of him.

“Wise indeed is the man who places his trust in none but the companions of his bosom,” Dallakin remarked, “for as the poet says, within them does one find the surest loyalty.”

“Quite so, my dear,” Lasarleen agreed, nodding her head so vigorously that her large gold earrings jangled in an almost theatrical manner, reminding Peridan, for not the first time of the differences between that of Calormen and Narnian style. For within his own land, not even ladies of high birth had their ears pierced, and yet within Calormen, he had noticed that even the peasant maids had at least their ears pierced, whereas the Tarkheenas had not only their ears, but often their noses as well, adorning themselves as heavily as was humanly possible.

Tarkheena Lasarleen was no exception to this, having not only the large golden hoops adorning her ears, but a delicate sapphire within her nose, countless gem-encrusted bangles upon her wrists, and a slender golden thread around her neck, upon which rested the largest ruby that Peridan had ever seen. In comparison, he thought of the manner in which Susan and Lucy clothed themselves; not with a constant display of wealth, but simple and yet elegant, always choosing fine cloth for their gowns to be cut from, but in a way that flattered in its simplicity. Even then, it was only Susan who always wore dresses, for Lucy had been born as fine an archer, as she was a lady, often preferring to ride or hunt, when her sister would sew or read.

“My lord?” Startled from his thoughts, Peridan turned to the Tarkheena was a polite smile.

“I am sorry, my lady, I must confess to being distracted, what was your question?”

“I was just asking as to whether there are many feasts within your land? We are invited to the palace almost every day, for the Tisroc (may he live forever), has come to greatly favour my husband.” Dallakin merely nodded gravely, “He has been so great as to order my husband, to lead a patrolling campaign of our country’s southern-most border. It is a great honour, is it not, oh my husband?”

“As the poet says, oh my wife, where Tash the inexorable, the irresistible does deign to act, we are but pawns for him to use as he will. I will fulfil the will of our great Tisroc, (may he live forever), and pray that it may be done according to the will of Tash, (may he be praised).”

“Oh yes indeed, my husband, I am sure that you will. My Lord Peridan, have you such duties to fulfil within your own land?”

“Yes, my lady Tarkheena, I am often called upon to lead patrols of our borders by the great kings of my land. High King Peter is a wise and just ruler.”

“And do you have many feasts or celebrations, my lord?”

“Oh, indeed my lady. We have feasts to celebrate the coming of every season, in the late summer, a great feast upon the shore that is below Cair Paravel. We all come together around a large fire, every man and beast together in fellowship, celebrating and thanking Aslan for the coming of another bountiful harvest.”

“A feast upon a beach, my lord? All of you together?” The Tarkheena inquired in surprise.

“Yes, my lady. All together, celebrating and feasting until the early hours of the morning.”

“Do the ladies not worry about the soiling of their dresses? What of the slaves?”

“We have none, my lady Tarkheena. Only servants, and they are all fairly paid, but upon celebrations we all celebrate our fellowship together, it is only the kings and queens who are seated upon chairs, and then, even they remain during only the thanksgiving ceremony, by way of tradition.” Lasarleen was astounded,

“And do the queens sit on the sand as well? Do they speak with … beasts?”

“Yes, my lady, for within my land of Narnia, the talking beasts are held in as great a respect as any man. Indeed, a dear friend of mine is a learned Raven named Sallowpad, and a more worthy creature could not be found, I do assure you.” At this statement the Tarkheena’s espression was one of complete shock,

“You are able to converse with these beasts, my lord Peridan?”

“Yes, my lady Tarkheena.”

“And are all of the creatures within your land treated with such respect?”

“No, my lady, only the talking beasts. We have a bountiful amount of dumb beasts as well; it is these that we hunt. It would be murder to kill one who spoke.” Throughout this conversation, Tarkhaan Dallakin had merely nodded thoughtfully, occasionally stroking his beard sagely, as though considering every word that was spoken. However, within the silence that followed Peridan’s final statement, he finally spoke of his own volition,

“As the poet does say, ‘all things that are not of Tash’s deigning will follow their own path, whether in aimless meander or to destructive end.’ But this is not for us to decide, is it, my lord Peridan? Let us trust our fate to Tash (may he be praised), and his great will.” As these words were spoken, Peridan caught the Tarkhaan’s gaze in surprise. For there was malevolence within those dark eyes that, for the first time in the duration of his visit, caused Peridan to lift a silent prayer to Aslan for courage.

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Chapter 7 - Chapter Seven

Daring to Dream

Chapter Seven

-dedicated to Sally Grant

Warning: If you do not like violence, then I must warn you that there is semi-explicit reference to an animal sacrifice within this chapter, so if you would not rather read it, please skip over it.

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Karna tossed restlessly on her mattress, unable to sleep, all the time her thoughts filled with the image of Master Lavarin, large, powerful and frightening. She shuddered, desperately trying to banish him from her mind as she endeavoured to get comfortable once more, but always it was there, a nagging fear, a dread that caused her to tremble with every remembrance of his behaviour. The sly, lustful looks, the large, damp lips slobbering upon her skin, filling her revulsion, intensifying her horror.

Desperately, in a final attempt to shake off her trepidation, Karna thought of anything that might divert her thoughts, even allowing herself to think on that which she had purposefully ignored for days now; her dreams and hopes. In a moment of rare bliss, she indulged that which her mother had told her to banish, dreams of an existence where her wildest imaginings could be real. A wondrous life where she would be able to choose whom she would marry, a world where none had to suffer, but all had enough to eat, where everything was green and lush, where water flowed through dewy forest glades, an existence where the god that they worshipped would act for the good of those that he had created, not praising the powerful, but the compassionate, the truthful, the just, the caring. As she allowed her imagination to run wild, a single word entered her mind. Narnia.

In her mind’s eye, she pictured the land that Peridan had described, and in place of Tashbaan’s dusty, cobbled streets with Calormen’s warm, arid climate, she imagined high green hills, deep, lush valleys and rivers running everywhere. She thought of the small, carefully tended gardens of the Tarkhaans and Tarkheenas homes, imagining them as unordered and wild, growing freely across a vast landscape. She envisaged a society where people went about their daily lives with joy, not attempting to be mysterious and distant, but real and honest, throwing back their heads to laugh in joy, openly showing affection and hugging one another. She dreamt of a land where everything made sense, where the heavenly being that they worshipped did not seek to destroy the life that he had created, but protect it, even love it because it was his creation.

With these thoughts lulling her into a glad, peaceful sleep, Karna attempted to picture the lion within her thoughts, recalling the sweetness of his breath, the tenderness of his lick, the calm of his voice. Yet, at the same time, she thought of his claws, saw the power of the animal, and instead of fearing them, felt reassured. For, having been born to a society where power was all, she took comfort from the lion’s proof of his strength, feeling safer in the knowledge that he could also protect and defend that which was his.

In her head, Karna saw the lion’s face, heard the words that he had almost seemed to speak repeated.

“Courage, dear one.” She was back in the garden, and the lion was there also, regarding her with those depthless eyes, within which seemed to dwell the wisdom of years long forgotten. Yet, that face also held strength, power, and most amazingly of all, tenderness, even love.

With a great gentleness, he once again approached, softly breathing upon her, that sweet, wonderful breath that filled her with courage, gave her once more the strength to endure. This time, he did not merely look upon her, but touched his nose to hers, and spoke.

“Peace, my daughter. For your sufferings are not in vain.” Amazed, Karna realised that she truly was speaking to the lion, that this was not a dream at all. Without knowing how she dared, she spoke,

“Please, sir, are you the one who is worshipped in Narnia?”

“I am, dear one. I am Aslan.” Karna gasped.

“The great lion that Peridan spoke of?” In response, the beast nodded his great shaggy head,

“But you must not fear me, Karna, daughter of Haradin. For though I am a lion and would not hesitate to do attack my enemies, I am also the protector of my children, for does not a lioness protect her cubs against any predator? I have seen your suffering, and know that you fear, yet take heart my daughter, for you will find the joy that you seek. But also know, that the path to joy will be wracked with great sorrow; you will need to trust in your courage dear one, but also in me.”

“What do you speak of, sir? What great sorrow?”

“I cannot say, child; you must simply learn to trust. Know that not every situation is, as it would first appear to be. Most importantly, take heart, dear one, and know that you are never alone.”

With these words, he bent his head, gently touching her brow with his tongue before turning to leave. Realising that he was going, Karna desperately called out,

“Must you go?” He turned for a moment, and almost unmistakably, seemed to smile at her,

“It will not be long before we meet again, my daughter. Fear not, but trust in those who love you.”

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The days passed with a greater rapidity than Karna could stand. Before she knew it, she was being fitted for the wedding gown, her mother was sewing a necklace of copper and silver coins to represent her dowry, and Tarlana was sent scurrying to the market for different foods each day, in readiness for the great meal to be prepared upon the day of the wedding. In a rare moment of peace, amidst the tumult of preparation, Karna stole away from the house on the pretext of drawing water, but really to gain some solitude. She walked slowly from the house, taking as much time as she dared, unable to maintain the role that she had been playing. For she and Tarlana had met every night to discuss how her new role might act, and between them, they had been able to create the submissive, dutiful wife that Lavarin would eventually marry, the part that she would be acting for the rest of her life. Yet, despite the duty that she knew it was her duty to fulfil, Karna could not remove the lion’s words from her mind, “Your sufferings are not in vain … you will find the joy you seek.” What had he meant by it?

Karna was so wrapped up within her own thoughts, that she did not think of where she was walking, and when she did finally stop, she found to her astonishment that she had, instead of heading for the well, been moving in the direction of Master Tirshan’s house. Suddenly afraid that she might meet Lavarin by chance, Karna hurried back the way that she had come, only to find the street was so busy that she was forced to delay, hurriedly pushing her way through, until she heard words that caused her both joy and sadness in the same moment. For, above the ordinary bustle of the shouts and braying of mules; she distinctly heard the words, “Way, way for the barbarian lords of the north!” above the din, and thought instantly of Peridan.

However, she was not given time for extra thought as she was pushed firstly from one way and then from another as people struggled to get out of the procession’s way. In the end, she found herself standing in the front row of the crowd that stood, squashed back against the walls of the buildings in an attempt to let the group of foreigners past. Thus it was that she got a clear view of the approaching Narnians, and could not help smiling as she saw the merry, pale faces that passed, all of them lacking the beards and turbans of the Calormens, and looking, in her opinion, much nicer for it.

She watched them pass, and was about to move on, when she saw Peridan, laughing as he walked, talking amiably with another man, and seeming oblivious to his surroundings. With a smile, she watched him go by, feeling glad for some reason that he smiled, wishing with all her heart that she could have just another moment’s conversation with him, but knowing that it was impossible. Yet, in a way, she was glad that she would not, for it would almost have seemed like a moment of delusion, before she accepted her fate. No, she saw that it was easier to treasure the conversation that they had had and not wish for more.

The Narnian party had, by this time, all but passed by, and she walked across the street to find a way through the crowd, when she saw something glinting on the ground. It was a dagger. Thin, finely carved and clearly valuable, she picked it up, staring in awe at the workmanship that had gone into it, for the blade was pure silver, with pearl worked into the handle, it was a veritable work of art. She glanced up at the retreating party, knowing that it must have been dropped by one of their number, and yet a weapon of that value would surely sell for a fine price.

Karna stood there for a moment of indecision, uncertain as to what she should do, before the decision was made for her, and, before she knew it, she was face-to-face with a Narnian lord. He was barely taller than she was, but much broader, with a thin, noble face and thoughtful eyes that were somewhere between grey and green.

“I am sorry,” she stuttered, nodding her head and making to leave, forgetting that she held the dagger in her hand in her haste to depart.

“Wait,” he said, in a voice that expected to be obeyed. Karna halted, not daring to lift her eyes, realising with horror what she had been about to do. “I believe that you have something that belongs to me,” he said, waiting expectantly. With a shaking hand, Karna was about to place the dagger in his, when a familiar voice called,

“Marken, have you found your dagger?” And before Karna could react, Peridan stood before her, tall and suddenly frightening. He stared for a moment at his companion, before turning to look at the girl who stood opposite, recognising her with a surprised exclamation of, “Karna!”

“You know this girl?” Marken inquired, regarding Karna with a sudden interest, “how did you come to be acquainted?”

“This is the girl I sat with on the evening of our welcome feast, in the house of Master Tirshan,” Peridan exclaimed, turning to smile at her. Reassured, Karna felt her fear leave her. “But how do you come to be here, Karna? Why are you not at work?” Hurriedly bowing her head, Karna lowered her eyes, before replying.

“I am soon to quit my employment of Master Tirshan, my lord.”

“Really? Why would that be?”

“I am to married, my lord. I will therefore not need the employment.” Both men gasped,

“Married? But Karna, you cannot be above seventeen.”

“I am eighteen year old, my lord.”

“But you are so young, too young for marriage surely.” Karna raised her head in surprise,

“Indeed I am not, my lord. I am old to be getting married, my younger sister was recently wed and she was fifteen.” Both men looked at Karna in horror,

“How old are they normally married in this land?” Marken asked his friend. Peridan shrugged, his voice suddenly sad as he addressed Karna,

“Could you tell us?” Still surprised, Karna replied without thought of decorum.

“The majority of girls are married at the age of fifteen or sixteen, my lords.” A thought suddenly struck Peridan,

“Do you wish to marry this man, Karna?” In embarrassment, Karna lowered her eyes, wishing that she had not spoken so openly,

“Of course my lord, my father has chosen him for me and I am content.” Not convinced, the Narnian lord raised her chin, forcing her to look into his eyes, remembering their conversation from the feast quite clearly, and in her face, he found his real answer.

“Why is your father forcing you to marry, Karna?” Karna bowed her head, trying to stop her voice from shaking,

“It is his will, my, lord, I cannot act otherwise, it would bring dishonour to my family and pain my mother, I would not do that.” Not wishing to force her, Peridan merely nodded.

Confused by this strange conversation, Marken watched first his friend, and then this girl, wondering at what lay between them. She did not seem to be different from any other Calormen woman that he had seen. She wore a simple, slightly stained dress, portraying her humble upbringing, and though quite pretty, even by Narnian standards, he could see nothing very unusual about her. Only her height surprised him, f0r she could not be much shorter than he himself, and the majority of the common people that he had seen within Tashbaan were always of a shorter, stockier build. Yet this girl was tall and surprisingly slender.

What also surprised him was the intensity with which Peridan beheld her, for, for one who was normally so straight-laced and practical, he now regarded this girl with an expression that was an odd mixture of compassion, sadness, and oddly, determination. For, usually, Peridan was quick to laugh, but practical enough to not be troubled by much, yet also fiercely loyal, and now, this loyalty was carved upon every feature, and yet, he was giving it to a Calormen servant girl that he had met but once.

Anxious to have some questions answered, Marken remembered the original reason for his returning, and glanced at his dagger, still held firmly in the girl’s hands, so tightly that her knuckles were white.

“I am sorry for your plight,” he said with real regret, “but I am afraid that we must be going, or we shall be late for our luncheon with the grand Vizier. May I have my dagger?” Karna blushed suddenly at the realisation that she had been holding it, and hurriedly handed it over, avoiding Peridan’s eyes as she did so. Although he tried to read her face, he did not grasp her chin again, now regretting that he had the first time.

“I am sorry for the mistake, my lord,” she replied, bowing low to Marken before hurrying off into the crowd, wishing to make as much distance between herself and them as she could, her mind a jumble of confusion, fear and oddly enough, exhilaration.

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Normally known for his restraint, Marken struggled greatly as he and Peridan headed towards the large, luxurious home of the Grand Vizier, a number of times just managing to bite back a question when it was on the tip of his tongue. But he was intrigued and he could not blame himself for wanting to ask Peridan about the nature of his interest in the servant girl. He was freely willing to admit that the traditions of Calormen differed greatly to that of Narnia and at times seemed bordering on barbaric to him, but why did this particular girl inspire such loyalty from his friend? In their long friendship, he had never known Peridan to attach himself so firmly, and so swiftly to another, except to the kings and queens, to whom he was as close as a brother. But this behaviour was decidedly odd for Peridan, and that truth alone fired his curiosity to an almost unbearable level.

However, all thought of the girl was swept from his mind, as they entered the Grand Vizier’s home and were instantly surrounded by people; slender, pretty slave girls in beautiful clothes, fierce, heavily armed guards, and at the centre, adorned in a jewelled turban and heavily embroidered robes stood Ahoshta Tarkhaan, the Grand Vizier himself. He bowed to them, a gesture which they returned with less of a flourish, but a great deal more grace. He then proceeded to welcome them in the name of Tash, the hideous spectre that they worshipped, and ushered them regally into the grand dinning hall of his home. It was a large, elaborately furnished room hung with bright silks, yet, despite the beauty of the day; the windows were shut fast and the air heavy with incense. He motioned his guests into their seats, and then, with a dramatic wave of his arms, ushered a group of slaves into the hall, bearing a covered object between them.

“Barbarian lords of the north,” the Grand Vizier exclaimed, “honoured guests of the Tisroc (may he live forever), I present to you a spectacle never before seen by any of your land. A sight that will glorify the great god Tash, the inexorable, the irresistible, a sacrifice to his everlasting power!” In an instant, the cloth was thrown back, and before them sat a girl, pale, slender and breathtakingly beautiful, she was enticingly clad, her naval and a good percentage of her legs exposed, she carried in her arms a snow-white kid. It was a charming little creature, delicate and small, with large, liquid eyes and spindly legs. However, Peridan and Marken had only regarded the sight for a moment, before they saw the golden tray and silver dagger being brought forth, and suddenly realised the intention of the Tarkhaan. In the next moment, the girl held down the kid, while the Tarkhaan approached, raising the knife high; they looked away, disgusted and slightly horrified by the obvious delight with which the Tarkhaan killed the baby goat.

After the last pitiful bleat had died away, they looked back, and saw the Tarkhaan holding the dead animal high, allowing its blood to stain the neck of the kid red as is trickled down in a thin, glistening thread, dropping on to the tray in thick, slow droplets. In the moments that followed, the Grand Vizier raised a loud, bellowing prayer to Tash, offering their bloody sacrifice, proclaiming the greatness and dreadfulness of Tash.

It finally ended. Peridan found himself feeling unnerved and rather sickened by the spectacle; praying silently to Aslan for strength, he had forced himself to endure the circumstances without flinching, and now felt weakened by the effort it had cost him. For within Narnia, even the dumb animals were respected, and though killed for food, no man would have ever taken pleasure from the action. The fervour with which the Tarkhaan had killed the kid had appalled him, and now, try though he might, he could not lift the dread that consumed him. He found that he had no greater wish than to be as far from this place as he could, but was completely powerless to do so.

On top of having to endure that appalling spectacle, he was also expected to sit amongst the Calormens and act as though nothing had disgusted him, to seem as though he every day saw innocent newborn animals being slaughtered. As well as this, he had to again tolerate the oily courtesy of the grand Vizier, to remark as mildly as he could upon the horrific display that he and his men had been forced to suffer. However; praise be to Aslan, he was not been directly asked his opinion of the sacrifice, and mercifully to, as he could not have been certain that his composure would have held.

When the vile meal had finally ended, after many polite good byes, he and his men gratefully left that vowing that they would never, of their free will, return to that place.

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Tarlana’s morning had been a flurry of activity, and, between them, her mother, herself and Karna had cleaned their small dwelling from top to bottom in preparation for the arrival of her sister’s betrothed. It was only now that they had settled themselves for a quiet midday meal that Karna once more fell back into the reverie within which she had dwelt for the past few days, a stupor caused by the alarming rate at which the days seemed to go by. There were now just two days before the wedding, and, try though she might; Tarlana could not even gain a single smile from her sister. Instead, Karna had become completely inward looking, often not speaking to any unless spoken to directly.

It was a state that had not been unmissed by their mother, and, try though she might; she could not gain a smile either, and was becoming deeply concerned at her daughter’s deteriorating state. Thus it was that she took Tarlana by the arm, and, leaving her oldest daughter alone, led her younger into the other room for some privacy. Once there, she turned to Tarlana sadly, and asked,

“My daughter, do you know what has happened to your sister? For over these past few days it seems that she has lost all recollection of who she was. She does not laugh or smile, nor even talk as times. What is it that ails her? Can this alone be her reaction to her betrothal?” Tarlana saw the fear in her mother’s eyes, feeling tears stinging her own as she responded,

“Oh Mother! She said that she couldn’t be herself and submit to this marriage. She had decided that she would rather act a submissive role for the rest of her life than cause you pain.”

In that moment, her mother’s face paled so drastically that Tarlana thought she should faint, for even her dark colouring seemed to facd. Suddenly motionless, she brought her hand to her mouth, closing her eyes as though in pain, she clutched for the table, sitting heavily on the chair.

“Mother, are you well?” Tarlana asked in alarm, hurrying to fetch some water. In response, her mother simply sat, her head in her hands, unable to control the sobs that burst from her normally placid self. Over and over, she said the same simple phrase,

“What have I done? Oh what have I done?”

Surprised by the sudden noise from the kitchen, Karna came through the doorway, immediately as alarmed as Tarlana by the sight of their mother; she hurried over, putting a comforting hand upon her shoulder.

“Mother, what ails you? Are you unwell?” Looking up with eyes that were half-blinded by tears, her mother beheld her, her pain and sorrow etched into every feature and line of that gentle face.

“Oh Karna, my daughter, what have I done to you?” Horrified by the guilt she saw in that face, Karna took the cup of water from Tarland, gently easing it into those shaking hands.

“Peace, Mother, you must drink something, please. You are not well.” Her mother shook her head,

“No, my daughter, I am well, it is you who is not.” Karna stared at her mother in surprise,

“Mother, what do you mean? I am quite well.”

“No, my daughter, you are not. You are abandoning who you are to reconcile yourself to a marriage, as I told you to.” Karna suddenly understood, and, taking her mother’s face in her hands, kissed her gently on the forehead.

“Mother, it could not have been any other way.” Shaking her head, her mother sighed, taking her daughter’s hands in her own.

“I would not see you become a shadow of yourself, Karna. For you have too precious a joy in life to live it as a ghost, your gift is such a rare one; it breaks my heart to see you let it go. I now see that I was wrong.” Karna felt tears coming to her own eyes as they sat thus, their hands clasped, miserable in the acknowledgement of what their existence was, knowing that there was no escape from it. The next moment, they shared a desperate embrace, both allowing the tears to fall as they took comfort from one another, letting themselves have a final mourn for the life that could never be, for the unreachable dreams that characterised youth.

How Karna wished that she had the stoic patience of Tarlana, and that she could accept her lot in life, but she had never had it. She knew, that even in her loveless marriage, she would always hope for better, and it was that strength that would carry her forward, though she knew not to where it would lead.

After a time, both women regained their composure, and, wiping the tears from the other’s face, knew that they would and must endure.

“This is the way it has to be, Mother,” Karna stated once they were calm, “I have to marry Lavarin, or Tarneesh will banish me from this roof, you know this is true.” Though she felt fresh tears threatening, her mother nodded, recognising the truth of her daughter’s words. “I will be provided for, and I can ask no more than that.”

With this settling of her emotions, Karna felt ready and composed, prepared to face her fate with courage. So, though it greatly saddened her, she took her memories of Peridan and Narnia, her dream of the lion, Aslan, and, with the best of her ability, banished them from her mind.

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Chapter 8 - Chapter Eight

Daring to Dream

Chapter Eight

Large, pompous and smug, Master Lavarin the blacksmith strode down the streets of Tashbaan, his wide face plastered with a cocky smile; he nodded to his neighbours in the same manner that one might have expected of the Tisroc himself. But that day, Lavarin was so assured of his brilliance, so delighted by his choice of wife, that he would probably not have cared even if he had noticed others smirking. With great care, he wetted his already overly moist lips, wanting to appear as handsome and alluring to his future wife as possible.

In preparation for the event, he had carefully chosen a new robe, one of a rich red material, now tucked closely about his portly frame. His beard had been carefully scented with eucalyptus, and a new turban of snow-white linen sat upon his head. All in all, he had taken great pains to appear as appealing as was humanly possible to his young wife, wishing for her to see the obvious benefit of such an alliance, and, in his own way, hoping to alleviate her nerves by it. For, though a vain man, there was no cruelty within Lavarin, merely a painfully high self-esteem, and one that had, over the years of his life, caused an expectancy of this admiration being returned by others. It was upon this basis that he believed himself worthy of fair Karna’s hand, and upon a similar foundation that he believed her to have accepted him.

Thus it was that he finally came to the doorway of her home, and, leaving a suitable moment for a dramatic pause, knocked sharply upon the wooden door just twice, before finding the door swung open by the youngest daughter of the family. With a solemn nod to the younger girl, he entered the home, acknowledging her father’s presence with a grave bow.

“Master Tarneesh,” he began, his voice a carefully balanced pitch, low and resonant, yet even and powerful, “I thank you most graciously for the hospitality of your home, for has not the poet said that ‘the welcome of a worthy man is worth more than the bows of a hundred enemies.’” Tarneesh, seated as he was upon one of the only two chairs, bowed to Lavarin with equal severity, responding in a similar vein,

“I welcome you, Master Lavarin, to my home, for the poet has also said, that ‘the polite welcome of a fellow Calormen is far greater than the banquet of a barbarian’. You are very welcome within this house, in the name of Tash, the inexorable, the irresistible, I greet you, he who is to very soon be kin of me.” Both men bowed to each other once more, before Lavarin took the chair that Tarneesh offered, regarding the other man with the same mysterious gravity that was considered as a mark of high breeding within Calormen.

They spoke for a time, watched over by the two sons of the carver, sombrely standing behind their father, their faces solemn and emotionless, as their father had wished. However, only a few minutes had passed before Lavarin referred to his betrothed, and, smiling smugly to himself, Tarneesh nodded, bidding his wife bring forth Karna from the other room. With a bow to her husband, she moved towards the other room, discretely wiping a hand across her face, she was gone but a moment, returning almost immediately with Lavarin’s betrothed.

She was dressed as expected, in the ornate gown of red and gold, her dark hair neatly braided, her neck adorned with the silver and bronze coins to resemble her dowry. She was a beautiful bride, timid and docile as was expected, she kept her eyes lowered, smiling shyly as she was led forward, bowing gracefully before her promised husband. From the moment of her appearance, Lavarin had watched in barely concealed lust as she walked forward, appreciating the graceful sway of her hips as she moved, the shy modesty of her beauty as she cast her eyes down, the alluring jangle of her anklet as she moved. Amazed at his luck at having purchased such a wife, he became so smug that he even allowed himself to exchange a triumphant smile with her father, surprised and glad to see the same expectation upon his own face at the prospect of the marriage.

To the normal eye, Karna appeared to be the perfect bride, attractive, biddable and obedient, she dipped a elegant curtsey to her intended, even managing a small smile as she inclined her head to her father, seating herself obediently at his feet, in the place of total submission to his will. It was only Tarlana and their mother that saw the brittleness of the smile, the utter melancholy of her expression as she sat at her father’s feet, the dullness of her eyes. For, though she played it well, they could both see the truth. She was dying inside; letting go of all that she had been, in order to cope with reality.

The minutes that followed were excruciating for Tarlana, as she watched her sister serve Lavarin, smiling shyly as he blatantly leered at her, often taking her hand and kissing it with sticky lips. A thing that many fathers would have objected to, but which seemed merely to amuse Tarneesh, as he found moments to strategically ignore it, suddenly seeming very interested in his food, or in ordering his wife to fetch more wine. It was the same action that had driven Karna to tears of hysteria, and yet, was now a thing that she would have to bear for the rest of her life. But, placed as she was, standing, obediently silent as they watched the proceedings, she was powerless to help her sister, and above all else, wished that she could.

For, her, the prospect of marrying such a man would not have caused nearly so much heartache and melancholy as it had for Karna, because hers was a temperament of such patience that she had learnt to accept her lot in life without complaint, as her mother had; but for Karna, that patience existed without the gentle and stoic acceptance. Where Tarlana could endure and draw strength from that meekness which she and her mother shared, Karna could not. Her sister had too vivid an imagination, to vivacious a nature and too strong a hope to accept the reality of an existence where she could not even dream of gaining what she sought from life. She had always had a natural cheerfulness and love of life that Tarlana had admired and loved about her, but when faced with the principle of enduring, it was Tarlana who proved to have the greater strength.

At the table, Tarneesh and Lavarin were heavily absorbed in their conversation, discussing the likelihood of the Prince’s marriage to the foreign queen, the barbarian beauty of the north. Karna sat, only partially listening to their discussion, still seated upon the floor; subconsciously brushing the dust from the skirt of her gown, she seemed relieved at her release from Lavarin’s attentions. For a moment, she stayed, seeming distracted in her movement, but then, she became aware of being watched, and looked up, catching Tarlana’s gaze with her own. The expression in those eyes was timeless, and in all her life, Karna’s sister would never forget it. There was an immense sadness, a melancholy that seemed to consume her very soul, yet at the same time, a great love, an affection that shone forth, that was almost emphasised more by the sadness. But, mingled with this emotion, there also dwelt something that ran deeper than the melancholy; deeper than even the love, it was spirit. A spirit that all the restraint in the world would not be able to suppress, a spirit that her greatest attempts could not withhold.

Tarlana saw that spirit, both joyful and the fearful at the sight of it, for the battle within her sister’s heart seemed to be costing her dearly. None but she saw the inner torment that Karna was struggling with, saw the hope that refused to let her darken its light.

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The night was drawing in, taking with it the last rays of the dying sun’s light, and folding the land in its velvety darkness. Lost in thought, a woman sat, gazing out upon the blackening sky, watching the stars, clear and jewel-bright above the tranquil waters of the sea. She sighed softly, enjoying the gentle caress of the breeze upon her face as she stared out.

A knocking drew her from her reverie, and, turning from the window, she bade them enter. Framed against the darkness of the passageway, a young woman entered, her usually merry face now pensive as she approached. With a smile, her sister rose to greet her,

“This is a pleasant surprise,” she began, but something in her sister’s face stopped her, “why so sombre, Lucy?” The young queen observed her sister, carefully choosing her words.

“Susan, are you sure that you wish to do this?” she asked, watching her sister’s reaction. In surprise, Susan assured her that she did. “But do you truly know his character?”

“Yes I think I do, Lu, ” Susan replied, with growing bafflement, “why would I not? Do you not think him worthy? Do you doubt his intentions?” Uncertain and clearly troubled, Lucy began to pace the chamber, occasionally wringing her hands in agitation; before coming to stop before her sister.

“I don’t know why I feel this way,” she admitted, “but I saw something false in his manner when we last met. I feel a foreboding, some anxiety for your safety.”

“But what have you to fear, Lucy? I shall have Edmund for an escort and he shall hold my safety as his utmost priority. Not to mention the presence of dear Peridan there these past weeks. Surely he shall have made the preparations and also discovered the expectations of both Prince Rabadash and his father.” Her anxiety visibly rising, Lucy’s eyes flew to her sister’s,

“Do you mean to accept him then, Susan?” Her older sister paused, contemplating for a moment, before eventually admitting,

“I am uncertain, Lucy. For, to marry one such as he … to live so great a distance from our fair land, and to make so great a commitment to a man I hardly know … I truly am not sure.” Lost in thought, her fingers unconsciously took a lock of her long hair, braiding and unbraiding it in her pensive agitation.

After a while, she turned to her younger sister, for the first time, a little afraid.

“Do you think that I should refuse him?” Not wanting to prejudice her sister’s decision, Lucy waited a few moments, before taking Susan’s hands within her own,

“Only you can make that decision, Su. My advice would be to trust your own judgement, discover Rabadash’s true nature. However, personally, I have my doubts, as do Peter and Edmund. But this is your choice, and whatever decision you make, we shall support you, always be sure of that.” With a failed attempt at gaiety, Susan’s smile faded and she merely nodded, her heart suddenly troubled.

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All about Tashbaan, evening was drawing in, bringing with it a much needed cooling of the air after the oppression of the day’s heat. In the back streets of the city, women opened their doors, letting the fresher air blow through the dusty stuffiness of their dwellings. The fragrance of cooking food mingled with the smell of sweat as men returned from their long days work.

In one such dwelling, a young wife stood, gently humming to herself as she stirred the stew she had prepared for her husband’s evening meal. Her young face utterly content as she tasted the broth, adding a little seasoning. She checked the preparations she had made, before moving through the doorway into their sleeping chamber to quickly pull a wooden comb through her dark hair in anticipation of her husband’s return. She was unable to stop herself smiling as she returned to the fireplace to once more check the stew. For, within marriage, she had found the one thing that she had always dreamed of, a bond of understanding and love with her husband.

With a gentle sigh, she moved towards the door way, glancing out into the narrow dustiness of the back street, she looked up, watching the vibrant azure of the sky soften to a paler blue as the sun set in the west. Across the road, the eldest daughter of one of her neighbours swept the ground outside their dwelling with an old broom, singing softly to herself as she did so. Glancing up, the girl smiled at her, pausing in her activity, she gave the young woman a knowing look.

“Good evening, Karlis,” she said.

“Good evening Morana,” Karlis replied amiably, “how do you fare this evening? Is your family well?” Morana smiled,

“We are all well, I thank you. We simply await the return of father and my brother.” For a moment, she merely watched Karlis, a mischievous grin lightening her face, “you seem as happy as always. Your face is never without a smile and my mother always marvels at your cheerfulness.” Morana’s expression softened, “but I do not need ask why it is so. It is easy to see, and lightens my own heart to see a husband and wife so happily married.” Karlis looked down, slightly embarrassed for a moment. But there was no denying it, and she knew it. She looked at Morana and smiled,

“I hope that you might have such joy in your own marriage as I have in mine, Morana.” Morana regarded her, now solemn.

“I too hope for that Karlis. Tash has blessed you, (may he be praised), and I am happy for you. To see you so happy always lighten my own day and helps me to hope that I might have such a man as Ahoz in my future.”

Morana opened her mouth to continue, but the calling of her name from her house stopped her, and, smiling a final time, she disappeared, closing the door behind her.

Her smile fading slightly as her thoughts turned inward, Karlis entered her own home, thinking about another wedding that was to occur the very next day. She recalled the hasty conversation that she had had with Tarlana a few days previously. With a growing concern, she had listened to her sister relate the drastic change that had occurred in Karna; of the grave acceptance that had replaced her easy smile, and removed the dancing sparkle from her eyes; of the profound melancholy that had ceased her singing and laughter. Karna had called it an acceptance, but to Karlis, it seemed more like the removal of all that made her sister so special, and such a joy to have around. This marriage to Lavarin was so different to what she had always hoped and dreamed, yet, she had accepted it without argument.

Karlis forced her thoughts back to the stew, and took it off the heat of the fire.

Why had Karna accepted the will of their father without a thought? It was just so unlike her.

With a sigh, Karlis moved towards the coolest part of the room and drew a loaf from one of the wooden shelves.

Was this not the same sister of hers who had dared to offer her comfort in her time of need, only to suffer the wrath of Tarneesh afterwards? Yet now, when she faced a marriage to a man that she could never love and the forced destruction of all her dreams, she did not?

Karlis shook her head in confusion, cutting the bread as she did so, her mind barely registering her actions as she attempted to make sense of the confusion that clouded her thoughts and would give her no relief of understanding. She was still deliberating upon her sister’s lack of response when she felt a pair of arms encircle her waist and was barely able to keep hold of the knife in her shock. Feeling the touch of a cheek to her hair, she turned, a smile brightening her face at the arrival of her husband.

“Good evening oh my wife and the eternal delight of my eyes,” Ahoz murmured, kissing her cheek as he drew Karlis closer to him. In return, Karlis entwined one arm about his neck and smiled at Ahoz, softly stroking his cheek with a gentle finger, she caressed his face.

“Good evening my husband and the true delight on my own eyes,” she whispered, smoothing a hand over his hair before feeling the gentle touch of his lips to hers. They stood thus for a moment, before Ahoz forced himself to pull away and looked at her tenderly.

“I praise Tash every day for you,” he said softly, “to have found such love in marriage is something that I would never have thought possible.” Karlis smiled at him,

“Well let us praise Tash together,” she said gently, kissing his again before pulling away to serve his meal. “Sit down, Ahoz, for, my husband I have been able to make another stew from that venison that your aunt gave us. You must thank her for me when you next see her, it has provided us with so many wonderful meals.” Ahoz grinned at the sudden change in the mood and obeyed his wife, amused.

“I will be sure to thank my aunt,” he assured Karlis as she placed a steaming bowl of stew before him, chuckling softly; he took a mouthful before looking at his young wife. Although still so young and sweet, it had only taken Karlis a few days to adapt to the role of a wife, and now, it seemed as though she had been one for her whole life. So effortlessly did she maintain their home and never fail to have his meal ready.

“Why are you smiling?” Karlis asked, seating herself next to him, she tore some bread, dipping it in her own stew.

“I was just thinking it amusing how quickly your mood can change from loving to domestic,” Ahoz said with a grin. Karlis regarded him for a moment; a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth despite her attempts to appear solemn.

“Is my husband complaining about my efficiency?” she asked levelly. Ahoz’s grin widened.

“Not at all, oh my wife,” he said teasingly, “I am just amazed that I have a wife so versatile that she can kiss me one minute and then thank my aunt for venison the next.” Gradually, Karlis’ composure broke and an unwilling giggle escaped from her mouth. The next moment, they were both laughing heartily and it was a while before either was able to stop.

“I did not mean to ruin the emotion of the moment,” Karlis exclaimed, choking as she struggled to stop her laughter. “But I had been meaning to ask you to thank your aunt all day and it seemed like a good opportunity.” Ahoz nodded, not trusting himself to speak for a moment, before he eventually regained control and turned to her.

“I agree,” he said, “it was most kind of her and I will be sure to tell her or my uncle at the first opportunity.” Karlis nodded and returned to her dinner; shaking her head ruefully, she sent a prayer of thankfulness to Tash once again for having blessed her so greatly in her marriage.

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Finally alone in the solitude of his own quarters, Peridan stood, motionless upon the balcony, regarding Tashbaan. All about him, pinpricks of light were gradually being extinguished in dwellings across the city, as the moon continued her journey across the heavens. He sighed softly, for that night, his heart was heavy.

Try as he might, he could never feel at ease within this land, neither among the pretension and oily condescension of the nobles, or within the dusty, aridity of the streets. Every day, he found himself longing all the more for the cool freshness of Narnia. He missed the ease and joyfulness of life at Cair Paravel, among their just and merry monarchs. Yet, as much as he longed for the arrival of Queen Susan and King Edmund, he also dreaded the coming of his friends to this place, as it heralded the queen’s final answer to Prince Rabadash’s troth. Dearly, and with all his heart, he longed to keep Susan from this prince, as he had seen nothing within this place to ease his qualms about the idea of an alliance between a young woman dearer to him than a sister, and a man as vain and arrogant as the Calormen prince.

Sighing again, Peridan allowed the pleasant freshness of the evening breeze to cool his brow, finally allowing himself to relax after the stress and torment on the day.

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It was late by the time that Karlis and Ahoz retired to their sleeping chamber for the night, having spent an amusing evening hearing Ahoz recount a ridiculous tale from the market that day, Karlis was just brushing her hair in preparation for sleep, when there came a gentle knocking on their door. Standing, Ahoz glanced curiously and a little uneasily at his young wife.

“Who would call at this time?” he asked, and, taking one of the candles, he headed through to their front door. The knocking had been growing gradually weaker and when Ahoz eventually opened it, Karlis heard him gasp, before hurriedly calling her through. Completely mystified, Karlis drew a shawl about her shoulders and picked up the other candle, walking through to their main room, she nearly dropped it at the sight that greeted her.

The front door was still wide open, as Ahoz had immediately sprung forward to support the figure that stood at their door. It was only when he almost carried her in that Karlis was able to gasp at the state that her oldest sister was now in. Quickly running for water and a bowl, she told Ahoz to close the door and hurried over to Karna, who sat, slumped in a chair, almost unconscious as she struggled to keep her head upright. Her face was a mass of bruises, her lip was cut, blood was running from her nose and one of her eyes was so badly blackened that it was shut. Her clothes, the beautiful garments of red and gold that should have signified a joyful wedding, were torn and muddied. She cradled her left arm protectively and it was not long before both Karna and her husband realised that it was broken.

With a shuddering breath, Karna shook her head painfully, eventually forcing herself to look up at Karlis, tears mingling with the blood that covered her face. In her horror, Karlis dipped a cloth in the water and sought to clean Karna’s face of the blood, restraining her own shudder, as she felt her sister flinch with pain. She sent Ahoz through to their bedchamber to bring herbs to disinfect the wounds and with great care, started to nurse Karna, very gently wiping away the blood and disinfecting the wounds; she didn’t speak, and merely sought to aid her sister, too horrified to ask what had happened.

Eventually however, Karna’s face was a lot cleaner and she was finally able to glance at her sister through her left eye, although her right was still swollen shut. In this moment, Karlis finally found her tongue and looked at her older sister.

“Karna,” she said, her voice coming out in a husky whisper, “what happened?” In response, Karna wiped away the tears that fell and leant forward to gently kiss Karlis’ cheek. Her voice was surprisingly calm when she replied.

“I displeased our father to the point of no forgiveness Karlis…I had actually accepted my fate and behaved as what expected for a lot of the evening, and then…suddenly, I wasn’t able to bear it. I found myself unable to submit any longer, and, just as father was completing the final ceremony of securing the betrothal and offering a blessing up to Tash, I couldn’t bear it. I jumped up and I refused to obey. I can’t quite remember, but I think I shouted…and father was so angry…I said that I couldn’t bear to marry Lavarin, I said that I would never marry one so vile, and Master Lavarin lashed out, he said that he had never been so insulted and hit me, hard. He stormed out and Father wouldn’t stop. I’ve never seen him so furious…he slapped me and started hitting and kicking me. At one point he picked up a chair and hit me with it. He shouted about how I had dishonoured him beyond forgiveness, he called me the daughter of a traitor, he spat on me, he tore my clothing, saying that I would never be worthy to be called a woman of Calormen, and he threw me out of the front door. Both our brothers spat and kicked me after father, before storming back into the house, leaving me out there.”

Karna shuddered and cradled her arm all the more, struggling visibly as tears streaked her face. Gently, Karlis took her sister in her arms and hugged her tenderly.

“You must stay here,” she said firmly, “she can, can’t she Ahoz?” Her husband merely nodded and walked over to Karna, placing a gentle hand upon her shoulder.

“Karlis is right, Karna, our home is your own. I will never forget your kindness to my wife on our wedding day, and Karlis has never stopped speaking of your joyful laughter and the tender love that you both share. You must stay here, and I will protect you with all my strength, I promise you, no-one shall know that you are here, least of all Tarneesh.” Karna shuddered at the mention of her stepfather and nodded, helplessly grateful for their kindness and the risk that they both took.

Carefully, Ahoz lifted her from the chair and carried her through to their bedchamber, setting her down upon the spare mattress, Karlis tucked a blanket around her and brought a bowl of hot water, infused with some of the herbs that she had gathered.

“I will stay with her Ahoz, you go to bed, for you have to work in the morning, my husband. She is my sister, and I will gladly nurse her.” Merely nodding, Ahoz kissed his wife good night, before leaving her to care for Karna.

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Chapter 9 - Chapter Nine

Daring to Dream

Chapter Nine

Never in her life had Tarlana known a night quite like this one. After watching her sister’s spirit take hold, she had been powerless to hold her back as Karna had simply lost control. Abandoning all reserve and obedience, her tongue had taken on a will of its own. In front of them all, she had completely refused to marry Lavarin, insulting him and calling him vile, she had disgraced her entire family. Utterly powerless, she and her mother had been forced to watch, while first Lavarin and then their father had beaten her beloved older sister. She had turned away, unable to block out the cries and shrieks of Karna. When next she had dared to look, Lavarin was gone, and Tarneesh had bodily thrown Karna out of the house, before following to spit on her. Eagerly, his sons had followed his example. The door had slammed, and, shouting and ranting at his wife, Tarneesh had stormed through to the bedroom, closing the door so violently that it was nearly wrenched out of its frame.

So they had passed a sleepless night in the main room, trying to get comfortable on the mats and tattered rugs. Tarlana nestled her head in her mother’s lap, weeping bitterly and saying over and over again, “Why? Why did you do it Karna? Why?”

In the first light of morning, she had awoken to find her mother leaning against the wall; her pale cheeks scored with tear tracks, and her eyes staring into space. Startled by Tarlana’s movement, she had glanced down and stroked her daughter’s hair before rising, silently stretching her cramped legs to make the feeling return.

On the table, the remnants of the meal still sat, uneaten and some upturned by the violence. Tarlana helped her mother tidy the room. With care, they stepped over the two snoring figures of her brothers as they lay, sprawled upon the two mats. Neither of them said anything as they worked to meticulously clean the room. Eventually, with the task finished, they took the dirtied fragments of plate and left the house.

It was still very early when they arrived at the well. Few were about. Even the beggars still lay, huddled beneath their piles of rags. So in the dim light, they both sat, side-by-side. Each lost in their own thoughts; they were unable to speak as they thought about the previous night.

Eventually, Tarlana forced herself to look at her mother, and saw a reflection of the utter sadness and hopelessness that crushed her own heart. With an effort, she managed to say what they were both thinking, but which neither wished to admit.

“She can never can home, can she?” For a final moment, she indulged the juvenile hope that her mother might be able to do something, to say that it would be all right. Almost desperately, she sought to banish her common sense as it smothered the silly, childish hope that her sister might one day return to their home. However, her mother’s answer and tone was enough to end any foolish fancy.

“No, my daughter, she is beyond our reach. Karna is lost to us. Forever.”

There, in the light of early morning, in that back street of Tashbaan, a mother and daughter wept, openly hugging each other. They gained what solace they could from the other’s presence, weeping for a loved one whom they would never see again.

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Unlike many of his companions, Lord Marken of Narnia lacked an ability to converse easily and openly with those whom he was not acquainted. In comparison to the courteous Peridan, he had never enjoyed meeting new people. This was something that had caused him to question King Edmund’s decision to make him one of the party many times. For, their primary aim in being sent to Calormen ahead of the royal party was to oversee the preparation of the house within which Queen Susan was to reside. The fulfilment of this task required the Narnian delegation to attend meals with people of influence and importance. Action done to develop acquaintances and good relations, a thing that Marken could not have been less qualified to fulfil.

They had now been in Tashbaan for over a week, and every evening had been spent in feasting and polite conversation, whilst each day required engagements and the attendance of meetings. All in all, he had found their time in Calormen to be dull, wasteful and somewhat disconcerting, as they had been exposed to various sides of the society that he had at times thought barbaric. Only in the company of his friends had he ever felt at ease enough to laugh and truly be himself. Now, as he dressed in a clean tunic to attend yet another lunch with the Grand Vizier, he found he anticipated little pleasure in the event.

Peridan heartily agreed with him as they met in the garden of their residence.

“I do not care for this Grand Vizier either, Marken, but until Queen Susan arrives, we must maintain a show of courtesy and politeness. Though I am of one mind with you concerning this country and its people. The more I see of it, the less I am pleased.”

“What do you think of Prince Rabadash?” Marken asked as they nodded to their soldiers, good men who had come as a sort of escort for their party.

“I find him as vain and untrustworthy as I did in Narnia. I have spoken of this with Queen Lucy and she agreed with me entirely. There was a strange, veiled manipulation and cunning about his courtesy and gallantry to the queen. I find that I distrust him even more in his own country.”

“I am glad that I am not the only one who found little to trust when he was with us at Cair Paravel …”

Marken had wished to go on, but was stopped by the entrance of the Grand Vizier’s guide. Both men inclined their heads as was expected in response to the guide’s low bow.

“My master the esteemed Grand Vizier has asked me to escort you to his humble home, would you please care to follow me, my lords?”

“We humbly accept the offer of your master and will follow,” Peridan replied formally, inclining his head once more to the man before he led them away down the road. As he strode ahead, he called loudly, “Way! Way! Way for the barbarian lords of the north! Way for the lords of Narnia!”

As they passed through the dusty, cluttered streets, Peridan once again found himself wondering about the girl Karna. He recalled the expression on her face when he had last seen her. Flustered and submissive, she had shown little of the wonder and curiosity that he had seen at their welcoming feast. Instead, she had seemed almost deadened and lifeless, as she had told them of her forthcoming marriage. He had been truly shocked to find that maidens were forced to marry against their will in this country, and something within him had longed to aid her in her distress. The intensity of this longing had surprised Peridan. For, in his life, he had ever been a man of judgement and contemplation; yet now he found himself fervently wishing to help this girl, despite the impossibility and likely failure of his intervention even if he had happened to find her.

The man led them out of the more busy streets and into the wide, cleaner cobbled ways that led to the gardens and palaces of the Tarkhaans and Tarkheenas. They were taken into the now familiar garden of the Grand Vizier. As always, Peridan was struck by the lovely fragrance of the jasmine that grew in abundance. Amidst the dust and dirt of the city, the garden was a haven of beauty and serenity. But they did not dawdle in that pleasant place and had soon gone into large, cool entrance hall of the Grand Vizier’s palace.

As he entered, Peridan was once more struck by how ornately the walls were carved, beautifully inlaid with coloured stones and a masterpiece in themselves. However, he had little time to admire the beauty of the architecture, for the Grand Vizier stood before them, a silken turban upon his head and a wide smile upon his overly oiled face. He bowed low to the Narnians, all the more emphasising the hump upon his back by the action. He appeared rather silly, to bow so low before them, bedecked as he was in all his finery. Peridan had long ago got the impression that this man owed a lot of his success to having developed a great talent for flattery.

“My honoured lords, in the name of Tash, the inexorable, the irresistible, I welcome you to my humble home once more. It is indeed an honour to have been so graciously accepted by your most excellent persons. Have the poets not said that the condescension of great men is worth twenty times the flattery of a pauper?” Playing the role that was expected of him, Peridan returned the bow with one of his own,

“We in turn do thank you, most gracious host, for the kindness of your extended invitation, in the name of Aslan, we greet you.” The Grand Vizier nodded gravely before drawing aside,

“My lords, you are most welcome, please enter and partake of your refreshment. If you have any wish whatsoever, do not hesitate to ask. My slave-girls will attend to your every whim. Refresh yourselves before beginning your meal.” Still rather embarrassed by the Calormen tradition of being waited upon hand and foot by slaves, Peridan accepted the fragranced water bowl gratefully. He failed to receive even a glance from the slave girl in response, for her eyes remained downcast and obedient, as was expected. After the rest of the Narnians had seated themselves, the Grand Vizier lowered himself into a cushioned chair. At the clap his hands, and servants hurried forward. In their hands they bore countless dishes and platters, all of which were placed upon the table.

“How do you find the cuisine of Calormen compares to the fare of your own land my lord?” The Grand Vizier enquired, taking great care to only eat after his guests had started.

“I find the cuisine of Calormen quite similar, my lord,” Peridan replied, “although there is a greater abundance of somewhat simpler foods eaten within Narnia. All of the food of Calormen is wide and varying, there is such a variety. The tastes are so rich, I find myself experiencing a different dish at every meal that I attend.” The Grand Vizier nodded agreeably, taking a delicate sip of wine from his goblet, he seemed to contemplate upon Peridan’s every word.

“We take a great deal of pride in the diversity of our cuisine, my lord Peridan, it is the mark of a good host and hostess that a guest never experiences the same dish throughout their stay. I look forward to the day when I shall have a wife to aid me in the expansion of my own table’s variety.” Peridan paused.

“You are to be married, my lord Ahoshta?” The Grand Vizier nodded sagely, attempting to remain solemn, though Peridan could see eagerness in the man’s small eyes.

“I am, my lord, this coming autumn to take Lady Aravis Tarkheena as my wife. She is the daughter of Kidrash Tarkhaan the governor of Calavar Province. A lady of great family and noble birth, and I very much look forward to our forthcoming marriage.”

“How old is the lady, my lord?” Peridan asked.

“She is not yet fourteen, and of very marriageable age I have been informed by her father. He is as pleased by the match as I, and even the great Tisroc (may he live forever), has nodded in condescension at the suitability of the marriage.”

“What sort of lady is she?” Peridan asked, forcing back his exclamation at the extreme youth of the bride-to-be. Within Narnia, such a child would have still been under the tutelage of her governess.

“One of grace and virtue, modesty and beauty,” the Grand Vizier replied self-satisfactorily, “I have met the lady on three separate occasions and found her to be very pleasant and agreeable, qualities which one finds desirable in a wife.” Peridan forced himself to kept a pleasant smile upon his face.

“Have you a wife, my Lord Peridan?” The Tarkhaan asked politely, offering his guest some salmon. Taking the offered dish, Peridan placed some upon his plate and nodded gratefully.

“I have not, my Lord Ahoshta, as of yet I have found no reason to desire a wife and have not met a young lady whom I might consider as compatible with myself.” The Calormen nodded solemnly,

“If one does not find oneself compatible with a woman it does not savour of much good for the future relationship,” he agreed, taking another sip of his wine. “Have you seen any women among my own race who have caught your fancy, my lord?” The Grand Vizier’s glance became suddenly suggestive as he motioned towards the servant girls who stood along the walls. Peridan visibly struggled to maintain his composure at the implication of the Calormen’s words.

“I have seen no women who would inspire such feelings within me, my lord,” he replied somewhat stiffly, cutting his fish with more vehemence than was completely necessary. An action that was noticeable to all in the room, least of all the Grand Vizier who adroitly changed the subject to hunting and the court in general, sensing the anger of his guest.

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All of her life, Karna had loved the colour green, but in the dusty, cluttered back streets of Tashbaan, there was not a colour that they were less likely to find. As a child, she had loved walking with her mother by the side of the river and catching glimpses of the green sanctuaries that had been created for the enjoyment of the Tarkhaans and Tarkheenas. Even later in her life, when she had first gained her employment under Master Tirshan, she had loved walking with Tamara and her sisters amongst the vegetables gardens and had even dared to occasionally glance into their master’s own beautiful escape from the dust of the city.

She had never walked upon grass until that strange night with the lion, and yet now, her dreams seemed to be full of the colour green. When she slept, she would find herself within deep forest glades, either dancing among the trees in the firelight, or lying upon lush, green grass in the sun, she was always surrounded by the colour, and she loved it. At night she would remember tales that her mother had told her about the colour green, of jewels that were supposed to contain the very depths of nature in their colour, emeralds they were called.

Only in sleep did Karna find her rest and peace. When her days were filled with a pain far greater than any that she had every experienced. Every day, Karlis would sit by her, tenderly nursing her wounds and caring for her needs, whilst going about her every day life and carefully keeping her hidden. But there was very little that she was able to do for Karna’s arm. It had been hit so badly by Tarneesh that it had broken, and the result was agony for Karna. It meant that she could find no rest in the day, as she lay in perpetual misery. Rest was only found when Karlis mixed together certain herbs to give her sleep. Yet, even then Karna would wake in the morning drowsy and feel ill for the rest of the day, a condition that did little to raise her spirits or aid her recovery. However, the poverty of their lives meant that no doctor could be called for, and, as she was, Karna was forced to suffer from the broken arm, without hope of recovery or healing.

As the days passed, she grew in strength and by the end of the week was able to sit up in bed quite comfortably, although her lip was still badly scarred and her bruises quite prominent, she felt relatively comfortable except for her arm, and was able to feed herself with her left hand. Thus it was, that after much coaxing, she was finally able to persuade Karlis to leave her for an hour to visit their mother and tell her of Karna’s condition and safety. This apprehension had been concerning her all week, causing her to fear for their mother’s health. Yet, after a while, Karlis returned, bringing their mother with her, and the joy of both was greater than either could express.

With tears of relief and thankfulness in her eyes, Karna’s mother embraced her daughter, gently kissing her forehead; she looked into the bruised, abused face with a mixture of joy and terrible sadness.

“Oh my daughter, oh my child,” she exclaimed, “what has become of you?”

“Hush mother, I am well and I am safe,” Karna comforted, gently taking her mother’s hands in her own. “Karlis has taken care of me since the night of the attack and as you can see, I am alright.” Her mother shook her head,

“Karna, oh Karna, we thought that you were dead, for no-one had seen you. Though we asked far and wide throughout the city, there had been no sight of you and we were terrified that you have been killed. Oh my daughter, Tash be praised that you are all right! I have never prayed so fervently for anything in all of my life as I have prayed for your safe deliverance. But what is to become of you? We must pray that your step-father never hears of you again or it shall be worse.” Karna looked down,

“Mother, he will not care to hear my name spoken again and he will certainly not pursue me, for I am dead to him, do you not remember what he said on that night?”

“Yes, my daughter I do, but if he even hears your name again, he will seek you out to kill you, he feels so greatly dishonoured. I am never seen him more angry.” Karna hung her head as tears stung her eyes. As she did so, her arm throbbed once more, carefully bound though it was, and she lacked the strength to restrain the shudder that wrenched through her body. Always alert, her mother missed nothing and immediately reached out gentle finger to move her daughter’s hand from her arm. Fearful, Karna watched as her mother ran soft finger over the wounded limb. Even this gentle touch proved painful, and at one moment, she was unable to stop a cry escaping from her lips. When she dared open her eyes, she saw the paleness of her mother’s expression and stared at her in horror.

“Mother, is there no hope of it mending?” she asked fearfully, seeing the answer in those pained eyes.

“Oh my daughter … dearest Karna we have no money, and such an injury … it would cost more money than we could make in a year to set. A surgeon would never come to us.” Hopelessly, Karna let the tears fall, feeling the last of her hope drain away as they wet her cheeks.

She was utterly helpless, lacking even a body that worked.

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