[For Edmund] Debut
Contrary to what you might think, it is quite often just as disappointing to be right about something as it is to not be right about it. Being right about an exam question or what will be served for dinner is all well and good, but there are times when you might rather not be right at all. Peter Pevensie (High King Peter, for he was back in Narnia) was having one of those moments where having guessed correctly wasn't satisfying in the least, for he had suspected treachery, and almost no one likes to be right about that.
He had all but defeated Miraz in single combat, until the false king had tripped over a tussock in his haste and fallen quite soundly face downwards. Some people (namely Peter's brother Edmund) felt Peter a bit too gentlemanly when he stepped back to allow Miraz to rise, but as it happened, Miraz never rose at all. His own men (who had been secretly plotting the downfall of their king) had leaped into the lists with shouts of Narnian treachery, only for one of them to stab Miraz quite dead where he'd fallen. There was not a bit of it that was above board.
Fortunately, Peter did not stop at that time to contemplate how upsetting it was to be right about the Telmarines. With a forward leap, he slashed the killer's legs from beneath him and then lobbed off his head with the furious back-cut of the same stroke. A very curious thing had taken place at the blow of Peter's sword, however, and on his downswing he found himself far from the battle at Aslan's How and not even in Narnia at all.
The first thing Peter noticed was the cold. This may seem somewhat queer when he was so immediately surrounded by tall buildings and bustle, but you must remember that Nikabrik's betrayal was still fresh in his mind, and for a moment Peter feared the worst. Presently, though, he took note of the long stretch of street with its rows of gas-lit lampposts, and understood that he'd been whisked away from Narnia yet again. (Although it seemed quite an odd moment for the whisking.)
The head he'd just taken off (which had belonged to a man named Sopespian) had made the journey with him, and had created a long swath of red across the fresh, white snow until it fell to rest in the gutter. Standing in the middle of the road, the sky dull and dark above him, Peter spied a figure several steps ahead of him upon the sidewalk. In spite of the poor light and the person's back being turned, Peter instantly knew it to be his brother, Edmund, for Ed had often huffed off in some fit or another, especially the first time they'd been young, and Peter would recognise the back of his head anywhere.
"I say, but that was abrupt," Peter said, lowering his sword at last. "You don't suppose something went wrong?"
He had all but defeated Miraz in single combat, until the false king had tripped over a tussock in his haste and fallen quite soundly face downwards. Some people (namely Peter's brother Edmund) felt Peter a bit too gentlemanly when he stepped back to allow Miraz to rise, but as it happened, Miraz never rose at all. His own men (who had been secretly plotting the downfall of their king) had leaped into the lists with shouts of Narnian treachery, only for one of them to stab Miraz quite dead where he'd fallen. There was not a bit of it that was above board.
Fortunately, Peter did not stop at that time to contemplate how upsetting it was to be right about the Telmarines. With a forward leap, he slashed the killer's legs from beneath him and then lobbed off his head with the furious back-cut of the same stroke. A very curious thing had taken place at the blow of Peter's sword, however, and on his downswing he found himself far from the battle at Aslan's How and not even in Narnia at all.
The first thing Peter noticed was the cold. This may seem somewhat queer when he was so immediately surrounded by tall buildings and bustle, but you must remember that Nikabrik's betrayal was still fresh in his mind, and for a moment Peter feared the worst. Presently, though, he took note of the long stretch of street with its rows of gas-lit lampposts, and understood that he'd been whisked away from Narnia yet again. (Although it seemed quite an odd moment for the whisking.)
The head he'd just taken off (which had belonged to a man named Sopespian) had made the journey with him, and had created a long swath of red across the fresh, white snow until it fell to rest in the gutter. Standing in the middle of the road, the sky dull and dark above him, Peter spied a figure several steps ahead of him upon the sidewalk. In spite of the poor light and the person's back being turned, Peter instantly knew it to be his brother, Edmund, for Ed had often huffed off in some fit or another, especially the first time they'd been young, and Peter would recognise the back of his head anywhere.
"I say, but that was abrupt," Peter said, lowering his sword at last. "You don't suppose something went wrong?"