UNCOMPLETED VERSION: The Mirror Cracked

Look back. You'll see that a number of world leaders are coming to a neutral spot to try and avoid a global war.

Helpful to remember that this is an alternative timeline caused by the Pevensies not going back through the wardrobe.
 
Well for one thing this story may shed some light on why Aslan felt the four Pevensies had to go back. More on that tonight.
 
CHAPTER THE FIFTH

Long before the present crisis a solemn and sad sacrament played out in the Azure Room of Cair Paravel. There beneath a deep blue ceiling spangled with gold stars lay old King Edmund the Just. His eyes still shone brightly beneath the shock of white hair that stole his ebony locks, but his face was weary. There was no doubt that another Narnia--the eternal Narnia--was calling to him.

His servants and personal physician had withdrawn to allow him a bit of rest. "Not too much rest," Ed whispered, his wit undulled by age. "I shall rest soon enough with Susan and Peter."

And it was well that Edmund was untroubled by well-wishers for he was expecting a very important visitor, one who emerged from the shadows and crept to his bedside on velvet paws.

"Aslan, old friend. You come for me at last."

The lion half-smiled, his reply coming in a soft, deep rumble. "Not yet, not yet. I am here about some unfinished business."

"My prayer?" Edmund said, extending a trembling timeworn hand.

"Yes," Aslan said, taking the hand gently in his mouth, pressing it gingerly and giving it a rough lion kiss. "It is a reasonable request, and doubly so because you want it for others and not for yourself." He shook his mane, which seemed to dazzle with a brilliance that was not exactly light and crackle with a tinkling that was not exactly sound. "Behold."

It was a small drum. Not an ordinary drum, but a splendid teak drum with a painted leather face surrounded by gold gilded rivets.

"Is this what I think it is?" Edmund asked, his voice trembling with emotion.

"Happy belated Christmas," Aslan said. He stroked the sobbing king's face with his paw. "This is your legacy, one of the Treasures of Narnia. It will take its place with the Cordial, the Horn and the Sword."

***​

Roderick held the drum gently in awe of its great power. He had been loathe to use it before. Indeed he was not quite ready to use it. He would only get one wish, one request to be granted that could not cause harm to another living soul, even one of evil and treachery, and then the drum would sleep until its new owner inherited it, and inherit the drum they must, for it could not be struck again during an owner's lifetime. There were a lot of wishes one could ask without causing harm, but knowing which one was the important one, the all important one that would let its owner go to the grave without regrets for a wish hastily made. It seemed quite possible that the wish would be made in the very near future.
 
Edmund carried that burden all his life...he was the only one that did not get a present from Father Christmas and he carried that awareness with him all his life.

At the end of a life well lived, he got his legacy back, something that could be left to future generations.

The idea of a gift you could only use once intrigued me. If you had such a gift, every time you were about to use it you'd second guess. Is this REALLY where I need to use it? Such a gift is like a grenade...when you pull the pin and throw it, it works but then it's gone.
 
Yes, this drum would be a blessing to Edmund PRECISELY BECAUSE it meant he could PASS IT ALONG to someone else. As for what might be wished: an excellent choice, one that meets the requirement of not harming anybody, would be to wish that some prominent and threatening evildoer WOULD REPENT AND TURN GOOD.
 
Copperfox said:
Yes, this drum would be a blessing to Edmund PRECISELY BECAUSE it meant he could PASS IT ALONG to someone else. As for what might be wished: an excellent choice, one that meets the requirement of not harming anybody, would be to wish that some prominent and threatening evildoer WOULD REPENT AND TURN GOOD.
Click to expand...
Love it. :)

ES, I love this story. Do keep going.
 
CHAPTER THE SIXTH

Peter I was a masterful ruler and he had brought a degree of peace and stability to Narnia that had lasted for a couple of centuries. The world had been stitched together into a series of entangling alliances that ensured anyone would be a fool to conquer another country simply because it was smaller and less well defended. And while there was nothing whatever like a League of Nations to formally hear grievances, there was the threat of all out world war to keep most petty squabbles in perspective.

Yes, it had worked for a couple of centuries, yet it had also become a well practiced game. Nations tested other nations, diplomats gathered embarrasing revelations and a certain amount of backroom cloak and dagger talk wrung concessions from even the most principled of players. Without Peter's charismatic presence the luster of his cherished peace was beginning to turn green like an imitation gold locket.

The Hadrusians were the spark that finally threatened to make the piles of tinder burst into open flame. Not because they were peoples of bad character. No, quite the opposite, the Hadrusian Religion stressed personal piety and the importance of honor, sacrifice and service. They did not play the game of politics well and with the Tisroc threatening their religion with his Cult of Tash they did what they had to do, even if it led to the death of every man, woman and child.

During the breathless pause that followed the Tisroc sought to exercise other forms of control over the breakaway province, a job that proved harder because many influential and wealthy Hadrusians lived across the border in Telmar and they had the ear of the Telmarine King. And voices on both sides of the border whispered at first, but the conversation grew louder by bits and pieces until there was outright talk that a merger was inevitable. A new and more powerful Telmarine Empire.

That left three options, all of them potentially disastrous. First the Hadrusians could continue to live in their small landlocked country always feeling the heavy thumb of the Tisroc on them. Second the Tisroc could move to retake Hadrusia and trigger a war with Telmar. Third the Telmarines could merge with Hadrusia and pressure the Tisroc into a face-saving war.

King Roderick was working on a fourth option. What it was to be, he was not sure.
 
EveningStar said:
The Hadrusians were the spark that finally threatened to make the piles of tinder burst into open flame. Not because they were peoples of bad character. No, quite the opposite, the Hadrusian Religion stressed personal piety and the importance of honor, sacrifice and service. They did not play the game of politics well and with the Tisroc threatening their religion with his Cult of Tash they did what they had to do, even if it led to the death of every man, woman and child.

During the breathless pause that followed the Tisroc sought to exercise other forms of control over the breakaway province, a job that proved harder because many influential and wealthy Hadrusians lived across the border in Telmar and they had the ear of the Telmarine King....
Click to expand...

One wishes that Aslan would show up to change ANOTHER Calormene Tisroc into a donkey.
 
CHAPTER THE SEVENTH

During the night's camp, the Hadrusian Foreign Minister had brought back an ancient custom of absolute secrecy. As he spoke with the Captain of the Guard in his small tent, three guards marched around and around it far enough from the tent that nothing could be overheard. If any of the three should approach the tent, or stop even for an instant (even if it appeared to be an accident) the other two were required to kill him immediately.

Safe in their cocoon of silence, the two spoke in hushed tones.

"What do you think are our chances?" the Foreign Minister asked.

"If we had brought a division as I had requested..."

"Out of the question," Minister Harlass snapped. "We all agreed to a small personal guard. We cannot afford to look like cowards in front of the Tisroc's men."

"Well then, Minister, the good news is that you have as much of a chance coming home alive as you do returning in a box."

Harlass frowned but he also nodded gravely. "That's better than things were a month ago."

"It's also worse than they could have been a week ago. I told the King that our small forces would seem like thousands if we covered the mountain passes. We don't need the Telmarines."

"Captain, too much of the wine of victory makes a man drunk." The Foreign Minister sighed. "The Telmarines need us as badly as we need them. Not to keep the status quo but to open those new trade routes. They've had a small taste of wealth and comfort. They want more."

"Your Excellency....Harlass...we've known each other quite a while. Those people are not to be trusted. Their assurances are like water in a canvas cup."

"You fight with your sword, I with diplomacy. I know people as only a diplomat knows them."

"I am also a captain hardened in the forge of battle. I argue questions of life and death as only a soldier knows them."

"You are here to guard me, Captain, not to command me."

"I am here to keep you safe, and I shall. Safe from yourself if need be. And remember the King was quite insistent."

The Foreign Minister nodded and patted the Captain on the shoulder. "All that aside, I fight for my country just as you do. This is a battle and there are no guarantees in war."

"Then I suppose we've nothing further to discuss." The Captain of the Guard looked out the tent door, clapping his hands at the guard detail. "Dismissed!"
 
Last edited:
CHAPTER THE EIGHTH

That same night. Yannik, the youthful Calormene Crown Prince, was pacing about his own tent in his pajamas. "I just don't understand it, Raum! I'm sure Tash in his Infinite Wisdom has something in mind for all this, but why did Father (may he live forever) have to get so ill at a time like this? By all that is right he should be here to negotiate!"

Raum, the Court Counselor, raised his bushy eyebrows a bit. "He is here, Your Highness. You are flesh of his flesh, and I (with all due humility) was by his side during most of his great challenges, even as I am here for Your Highness."

"They will think me a mere boy."

"No son of the Peacock Throne is a mere boy. I dare to venture that any Calormene soldier in the palace guard could defeat a Hadrusian dog and a kisser of mythical lions. You are a great man like your father was."

"Save your propaganda for the speeches," Yannik said. "And you'd be wise to remember that my father (may he live forever) has not died yet."

Raum bent a bit at the waist. "I did not mean to offend, Your Highness. And yet if that unfortunate day happened to come sooner rather than later, it was wise of your Father to send you into the crucible that your gold may be refined in the heat of conflict. These are the people you must face when it is time for you to take the throne. It would be best for them to learn to fear you now, and it would be best for you to know their strengths and--more importantly--their weaknesses."

Yannik glanced at him with large dark eyes tinged a bit with fear. "I wish to be alone now. Good night, Raum."

"Good night, Your Highness," Raum said, bending at the waist before leaving.

As soon as the counselor was outside, he took out his pipe, lit it from his lantern, then puffed a bit. "The young colt is away from his mother," he murmured. "He thinks himself a stallion."

It was an old Calormene saying, and it was never flattering...
 
Maybe a little TOO reasonable? I wonder if that's what the royal advisor is thinking, hmm? Possibly too reasonable not to be accident prone?

Not saying that's it or that's not.... ;)
 
CHAPTER THE NINTH

The Telmarine king and his coterie were the first outsiders to arrive at Camp Beruna, as the stockade was now openly called. Their flag, white above blue with a double-headed eagle clutching swords and arrows, flew next to the Lion Jack.

The locals breathed a sigh of relief that neither the Calormenes nor the Hadrusians had shown up first, though their feelings about Telmar were mixed.

The first Telmarines to visit Narnia had arrived in the summer of King Peter's 60th year. They were seeking a treaty of mutual defense and trade to protect themselves from the Calormene threat. And while they smiled and said many flattering things, they were clearly put off by the presence of talking beasts and earned Queen Lucy's undying enmity when they referred to the talking badger who waited table as "it" rather than "he".

With sometime mention of the "master race" achieving a "great destiny" to "unite the world" in peace and prosperity, the ambassador did not engender himself to Edmund who had known his fill of ambitious rulers and did not like them whether they had magic or not.

The resulting treaty was more of a memorandum of understanding without any hard and fast guarantees. It resulted in a period lasting nearly a century called the "slow war" in which the occasional border violation or embargo never quite loosed the arrows. There was, however, an understanding that the Tisroc and his minions were the real and present danger against which all people "like us" (Telmarine words, not Narnian) should be prepared to fight side by side.

Then came the great thawing of relations, and all because of a disease. Corragic Fever to be precise. A wet spring and cool summer one year turned the old resentments out as a new threat worse than Calormen swept through the towns like an angry blaze. It was into this catastrophe that Narnian doctors and nurses skilled in sanitation treated the dying and ordered changes in the disposal of garbage, preparation of food and protection of water supplies. Suddenly Narnians...even talking beasts...were seen as guardian angels. Differences remained, but old enmities were forgotten and the border incursions ceased entirely.

These were the reformed Telmarines that showed up at Camp Beruna. And yet they had a powerful ally ready to join them. Would they still be so humble, so grateful, when they had the world's largest professional army?
 
Back
Top