Daring to Dream

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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