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𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄: π„π‹π•πˆπ‘π€

β˜…β”€β”€β”€β”€β”€β”€ βœ¦βœ§βœ¦β”€β”€β”€β”€β”€β”€β˜…

Aslan's voice still echoes between the walls of the tomb, but the Great Lion has disappeared.

'I don't understand,' Peter mutters. 'Why must this happen.' His blue eyes shoot over our little fellowship, and eventually land on mine, but I shrug. I don't know either, but who are we to question the King of all Kings?

'What do we do now?' Edmund asks, and we all turn our attention to him.

Caspian's face grows harder and he weaves his fingers through Susan's, pulling her closer as well. 'We ride back to Cair Paravel,' he says between gritted teeth. 'If Rabadash is coming for Susan, we have to get back to the one place we can protect her best.'

Edmund and Salvador nod, but Peter throws his hands in the air in frustration. 'And then what? We cannot just sit around and do nothing.'

'I know that,' Caspian spits, taking a small step towards the eldest Pevensie but Susan snaps him out of his anger by softly placing a hand on his shoulder.

'Caspian. . .' she whispers, her voice slightly trembling, and Caspian looks at her, his brown eyes warm and compassionate.

'We'll protect you,' he says firmly.

'Caspian is right,' Edmund says to Peter. 'We have to get back to safety first, then we'll figure out our next step. We're too exposed here.'

We all move out and leave the stone table behind us as we walk through the dark tunnels of Aslan's How. The air seems heavier than mere minutes before. Now that we know the truth of the dark shadow, the atmosphere has changed from peaceful to stark; as if every second now something bad could happen.

A shiver runs down my spine and I run a few paces until I walk next to my brother who checks every tunnel to make sure we're still alone.

'There's one thing I don't understand,' I start and Salvador snorts.

'Only one? I have dozens of questions.' He orders me to stand still by holding up his hand and glances around the corner of the next crossroad. He determines it's safe and moves forward, gesturing we can come as well. I think he's being a bit too suspicious, no one knew we were going to the tomb, but I leave him be.

'I mean, the Calormene rebel said that they were coming. But Aslan only spoke of Rabadash. Isn't that strange?' I say to him and by Salvador's posture I see he's pondering about that question as well. His shoulders are squared and his hand rests on the hilt of his sword.

'Let's just first get back to Cair Paravel, all right?'

I nod, realizing now is not the time for this.

We reach the entrance of the hill and a chilly breeze greets us as we step outside. The night sky above us is still pitch black and the countless stars seem to be edged against the dark velvet.

'We stay between the trees,' Caspian orders as we set course towards the horses. 'We avoid the roads.'

I swing my leg over the saddle of my dappled grey stallion, Helios, and he dances a few steps underneath me as he nibbles on the bit, causing the leather reins to move in my hands. I look around to see if everyone's ready and after Caspian has pulled Susan behind him, I usher my horse in a quick trot. The six horses shoot over the ground and the clickety-clack of their hooves is muted by the forest ground; the moss and fallen leaves absorbing the sounds.

For a while we travel a great distance, even by avoiding the roads, but then our surrounding changes.

The thick foliage above us blocks most of the starlight and we're forced to slow down when one of the horses almost trips over a protruding root. The road back sure seems longer than the way there.

We reach a meadow between the trees but as soon as my horse steps into the silvery light of the moon beaming down on the clearance, something in the air changes.

The leaves of the trees stop rustling and the nightly sounds of nocturnal creatures fade away. The owls stop hooting and the bats disappear.

'Salvador. . .' I whisper, almost too afraid to break the eerily silence, and I hold in Helios.

'It's too quiet,' Peter says, stopping his horse next to mine and his eyes shoot over the meadow as he tries to find anything out of the ordinary.

A twig snaps on our right and with a roar two dozen of men jump out of the tree line. Their swords are raised and they scream incoherent words as they sprint towards us. The horses whinny in fear and Helios bucks when one of the bandits grabs the reins out of my hands. I never even saw him coming!

'Protect Susan!' Peter screams, unsheathing his sword and fighting off a bandit coming for him.

I try to kick the bandit by my side, but he grabs my ankle and drags me out of the saddle. I grunt as I land harshly on the ground, but my attention is drawn to a flickering of metal coming my way.

'Elvira!' Salvador screams my name and as my heart hammers in my chest I try to roll out of the way from the bandit's sword swinging down.

The sharp, cold metal penetrates the skin of my shoulder and I scream out in pain. The bandit grins and pulls the sword out of my shoulder, but before he can make his next move, Salvador's horse charges at him. The man screams as he's launched a few feet through the air, and Peter jumps off his own horse, helping me back on my feet. I clasp my hand around my wounded shoulder, trying to keep as much pressure on the slash as I can, but out of the corner of my eye I see three men charging at Caspian's black stallion.

'Caspian!' I yell. 'Look out!'

But my warning came too late. The men drag Susan off Destrier's back and though she tries to fight out of their grip, her movements come to an abrupt end when one of the bandits hit her on the head with the hilt of his sword.

'Susan!' Lucy screams in horror.

'Let her go!' Caspian orders, trying to get back to Susan but we're far outnumbered and they block all our efforts to get to the gentle Queen.

Edmund roars in fury as he fights off two men, jumping off his horse to get on an equal height, but our efforts are in vain as the bandits drag Susan farther and farther away into the shadows of the forest.

'No!' Peter screams, kicking one of the bandits where the sun doesn't shine, but by the time we have fought off the two dozen men, Susan is long gone. . .

β˜…β”€β”€β”€β”€β”€β”€ βœ¦βœ§βœ¦β”€β”€β”€β”€β”€β”€β˜…

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