Daring to Dream

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.

0 0 0 0 0

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.