Description: A young adventurer arrives at the royal court during the Golden Age of Narnia. Contains no actual violence but some peril and an encounter with the undead.
“Cheese, like oil, makes too much of itself. It wants the whole boat to itself.”
It was a glorious day in early spring. Indeed, it felt like the middle of summer, with the hot sun a benison upon Narnia. The icy grip of the White Witch was still within living memory but, on that day, it felt like a bygone age.
A fallen tree, hewn into a handy picnic table, was covered with a green oilcloth. It was bathed in a fretty light from the leafy canopy above. Three fauns laid out the picnic whilst the others watched youngsters frolic on the riverbank.
Lofos oversaw the opening of each wicker basket. He was an elderly fawn and rather fond of his food. His waistcoat held fast by one last, stubborn button. “Egg and cress, cheese and tomato, cucumber, pickled cucumber,” he recited, as each plate of sandwiches was put out. “Jam for the little ones, cheese and chutney.”
“Plenty of cheese then,” said Mrs Lofos, pointedly.
“Hm,” her husband replied. “There’s piccalilli, spinach tart, pumpkin pie and hard boiled eggs.”
“Cousin Tumnus isn’t here yet,” Mrs Akakos observed. She began to lay out the salad things.
“Hm. We have lettuce, radishes, spring-onions, tomatoes, and cucumbers”.
“Well, this all looks very nice,” said Mr Akakos approaching the table. “My! The cakes look good!”
“Seed cake, lardy cake, jam-sponge, lemon cake, fruit cake; aye, that is quite an elegant sufficiency,” Lofos agreed. They paused for a moment to watch the commotion as a very young fawn had to be pulled out of the water. “There’s a towel for him over there,” laughed the old fawn, indulgently.
“Hallo there! Hallo!” a breathless voice rang out. It was Mr Tumnus. Now, many of you will know of the famous Tumnus who met Lucy on her first visit to Narnia. This was he. The middle-aged faun came jogging along the path, his tail coat unbuttoned because of the heat. A small basket bounced about by his thigh.
Old Lofos muttered something under his breath. The closest I can render it in idiomatic English is “Cor blimey!” (1) He received a dig in his ribs from his wife. “Hullo, Tumnus!”
“Cousin Lofos, lovely to see you,” the newcomer said, shaking the proffered hand vigorously. “Ladies,” he doffed his hat to reveal a perspiring forehead. “Akakos, old fellow, how are you? I’m running late, court business you know.” When all of the pleasantries were complete, Tumnus took something out of his basket. “Now, here is my contribution,” he said proudly. He took out a substantial round cheese, wrapped in greaseproof paper. The fauns were aware of its presence the moment it emerged from the covered basket. As he unwrapped it for them to take a look they could taste it at the back of their throats. “My finest yet I think. My goats have done me proud!”
“Huh!” grunted Mrs Akakos, trying to stifle a cough.
“Put it downwind, for the love of Aslan,” Lofos hissed at his wife.
“I think we’ll put it to the end, dear,” Mrs Lofos suggested, taking the cheese and placing it on a plate. “It’s got such a delightfully fresh aroma that it would quite overpower the cakes. In fact, let’s pop a cover over it to keep any insects away”.
“Whatever you think best, coz,” said Tumnus blissfully unaware of hands passing in front of noses.
The picnic was a huge success and great inroads were made into Tumnus’ cheese. Much of it was carved and tossed – discreetly – into the river. “Making a rod for our own backs,” chuntered Lofos. “He’ll bring two next time!”
Towards the end of the repast, a sixth pot of tea was to be made. There were just a few pieces of the plainer cakes left, along with the odd lettuce leaf. Most of the fawns sat about on the grass, as Mr Akakos filled another huge kettle full of water.
“Good afternoon!” A heavily laden dwarf approached them.
“Hoker; good to see you old fellow,” said Akakos.
“Aye, and you. Afternoon all,” Hoker replied. “Help me off with this pack, would you?” The dwarf was a pedlar, mostly specialising in dressmaking items. He could usually be relied upon to fulfil any particular commissions as he had numerous contacts throughout the land. Sometimes he would bring silverware to the royal court, from his kinsfolk in the north. “You haven’t got a spare cup o’ tea for a thirsty chap have you?”
After two cups and two slices of seed cake, Hoker opened his pack. He sold two pairs of scissors, dozens of pins and needles along with several thimbles. He received a few small coins and made a mental note of promises of payment. “So, what’s the latest gossip in the land?” Lofos asked.
“Well, there’s a lot of new settlers – sons of Adam – that have come into the country,” said Hoker. He found a crumb of cake in his beard and chewed it reflectively. “They’re good sorts, really. A couple of old Narnian families are back from the islands.”
“There are quite a few new faces at court. The Archenland lot are always in and out too,” Tumnus observed.
“And have you seen Queen Susan recently, Master Hoker?” asked a young, male fawn.
“Sold her maid some cloth-of-gold just two days ago,” the peddler said proudly. “Her Majesty is quite the beauty.” The young faun’s little sister nudged him pointedly and he blushed.
“Aye, now talking of men,” said Lofos, “who’s this coming?”
A young man approached. He wore a heavy pack and a thick, weathered cloak. As he came closer they could see that he was a handsome youth with pleasing features but a distinct ‘five o’clock shadow’ (2). He wore a steel helm bound in cloth, Calormen fashion. He had no armour but a thick leather jerkin. His shield was painted with a pentagram which, in Narnia, could symbolize the ‘endless knot’ meaning the five virtues (3). A curved sword of Calormen manufacture hung at his side. “Good day to you, friends,” he called.
“And to you,” said Lofos.
“How far is it to Cair Paravel?” the man asked.
Too many years of living under the White Witch had left their mark. “Who wants to know?” Mr Akakos asked warily.
“I’m a stranger in these parts. I seek my fortune at the Royal Court”.
Readers of old tales must know that noble youths were prone to doing this – even in our own world. It was the kind of thing that should immediately warm anybody’s heart to a stranger. It certainly worked on Tumnus. “My; how exciting! What is your name sir?”
The man made a bow with his right hand over his heart. “I’m Reposco; at your service.”
“Tumnus,” said the fawn, returning the bow. “I’m a friend of Queen Lucy, herself”.
“It seems that I am fortunate to fall in with you, Mr Tumnus,” said the young man, delight showing on his face. “I most earnestly request an introduction at court; that I may offer myself in the service of their majesties”.
Tumnus beamed. “Well, sit down a while and have some tea, whilst you tell me more about yourself”.
“…so he throve amid the throng, a ruler royal and tall”.
The next morning saw the High King Peter hearing petitions in the great hall at Cair Paravel. ‘Peter the Magnificent’ was a broad-chested, tall man who wore his authority well. At the weekly audiences he would pass judgement on straightforward legal issues and grievances. His brother handled the more complex and criminal cases at the Monthly Sessions.
The claim of an aggrieved badger was settled to the creature’s satisfaction, and Tumnus read the next petition. “Majesty, I present to you a young gentleman by the name of Reposco. He seeks leave to address you”. From further back in the crowd came grumbling sounds.
Peter studied the young man, in a weather stained cloak, who knelt before the throne. The King stared levelly into the petitioner’s cool, grey eyes. “Please, arise, Reposco. Tell me about yourself”.
“Thank you Majesty. I have recently arrived in Narnia and seek service at court, in some capacity.”
“Tell me your background,” said the King, curious. He was unaware of a slight disturbance amongst the onlookers.
“My family lived in the Lone Islands for many generations. My parents died when I was young and I was brought up by my guardian. At the age of eleven I was captured by pirates and sold into service in Calormen. I was page to the Satrap Rhosani for seven years. He treated me well but I still wanted my freedom. I took my chance to escape in the baggage train of silk merchants, a year ago. Since then I have had many adventures, working my way here across land”.
Peter marvelled at him. “It seems that you are a formidable man of, what, nineteen?” Reposco nodded.
It was at that point that a scuffle broke out. A burly, drunken man tore free of the centaur that held him. He staggered belligerently forward. “Hoy, enough o’ this,” he warned. “Confounded ponies!” He’d been taken into custody for being drunk and disorderly. It hadn’t seemed worth holding his case over to the monthly session. He gave a fawn a shove and sent him flying. He lurched towards the King in an aggressive manner. “Now, what I say…,” he began. He did not get to finish his sentence. Seeing no need for his sword, Reposco hooked a foot about the man’s ankle. He thrust out his elbow sending the drunk sprawling on the floor. Two centaurs sprang forward to secure the prisoner.
“Oh, very well done,” applauded Tumnus.
“Indeed! I thank you, Reposco,” said the King.
“It was nothing, sire. The man is merely drunk and foolish. He needs to sleep it off,” said the young man modestly.
“Take him away and bring him before me in the morning: when he is sober,” said the King signalling to the centaurs. “Well, you’ve made a good impression, Reposco. We shall find you work and I must do you a good turn for this”.
“I thank you, Majesty,” said Reposco with a bow. “I also beg that you give me fair hearing if I ever ask anything else of you”.
“Wisdom gives strength to the wise more than ten rulers that are in a city”
Reposco attended the monthly session court the following week. He was both clerk and guard to King Edmund – who presided. Now clothed more decently, the young man cut a good figure about the court (if an unshaven one). Edmund stroked his own beard reflectively and wondered if the lad could actually grow a proper one yet. “Betty Bruin,” announced the usher.
The first case was a dispute over a land boundary and, once done, a bear left duly chastened. She agreed that she must not trespass to obtain honey from someone else’s hives.
“Pascal – a hand on board the ship Aethelwold,” was the next announcement.
The second matter was more serious. A foreign sailor had nearly caused the death, by drowning, of a native Narnian during an argument on a quayside. The King listened to the particulars of the case and, glancing over at Reposco, he could see that he too was keenly interested. Edmund called a recess and the defendant was withdrawn. Once alone, the King asked for his clerk’s observations.
“Well, your majesty. First, it seems to me that there was no intent to seriously injure. A push in the heat of the moment was stupid but without real malice”.
The King nodded. “That is true; go on”.
“The victim might have died but did not.”
Edmund nodded again. “Also true; continue”.
“The accident was however traumatic. It led to two weeks’ bed-rest and, consequently, loss of wages. That cannot be overlooked”.
The older man made a gesture with his hands, “What do you conclude, Reposco?”
The young man smiled. “Wisdom has seven daughters: Mercy, Liberality, Understanding, Grief, Fear, Steadfastness and Loyalty. Perhaps the greatest of these is Mercy?”
“Excellently put, my friend! You would put the Calormen sages to shame! Tell the usher to bring the defendant back in.”
As the sailor stood, his head bowed in trepidation, King Edmund delivered the verdict for Reposco to note down. “Let the record show that the court finds no intent to cause serious injury. Nevertheless, the victim was put into peril and subsequently incapacitated. “ He paused to study the mariner. “I notice that you wear a gold earring in each ear. The Court would not deprive you of both but you must give one earring to your victim as compensation. Usher, please arrange this. Case closed.”
“The righteous are bold as a lion”
Reposco prospered at the court and quickly found himself something of a favourite of both Kings and Queen Susan. By his fourth month there, the young man had become a jack-of-all-trades. Three of the monarchs soon fell into the habit of saying, “Reposco can handle that.” Queen Lucy always seemed to be a little reserved with him; her sister would gently tease her about this.
One day, Reposco sat at the board beside his new friend Tumnus. He had just taken an overly ambitious bite of bread and momentarily couldn’t speak. It was at that point that a messenger galloped (for she was a centaur) into the hall. She rushed up to the dais and addressed the monarchs. “Majesties, I have grave news. The Archenland ambassador has been injured on Narnian soil”.
“Say on,” said the High King.
“He had sent his guards ahead whilst he dallied, hawking. There was but a young squire with him. The lad got him away over his horse and they will be back in Anvard by now.” the centaur explained.
“Who attacked him?” asked Edmund.
“It was a foul revenant, according to the boy.”
The two royal brothers looked solemnly at each other. “The Witch had Orknies in her army.” Peter frowned, “I thought we’d cleansed such evil from the land”. Orknies (or Orcneas) are corpses reanimated by evil magicians; monstrous puppets containing nothing of their original essence.
“Shall I go, brother?” Edmund asked.
Reposco rose, quickly crossed the floor, and knelt before the dais. Peter asked, “Reposco?”
“Majesties – forgive me. This matter is surely beneath your attention. Would you consider letting me deal with it?”
Peter hesitated before speaking. “You are a young man, anxious to win your spurs. There was just the one Orknie?” he asked the messenger.
“Aye, Majesty; as far as we know. It was in woodland to the east of the River Archen”. The centaur looked at her Kings, “The guards didn’t go back to flush it out – being on our territory. We can’t be sure whether it is alone.”
In the end Reposco was made the temporary captain of a company of seven stout dwarfs. He made them swear that they’d let him face the revenant alone; only to aid him if he was in mortal danger. He was clad in Narnian mail but carried his own shield with the ‘endless knot’ device. Seated on a grey, he clattered out of the courtyard followed by dwarfs mounted on ponies. Queen Lucy watched him from a high window. His shield had caught her eye: she felt sure that she’d seen the device somewhere before, close to home.
“…at such might Satan be seen, saying matins at midnight”
The initial search of the woodland was fruitless and the company set up camp beside the river. The water protected them from behind and they kept watch in pairs during the night. Next morning, they rose early for a filling breakfast of porridge and fried fish. Then they set out to systematically search the wood.
A little before noon they entered a small grove of ash trees. In front of them lay a large stone plinth on top of which sat the lid of a stone casket. The casket bore a carving of a noblewoman but it was so old and weathered that the features had worn away. At the base of the tomb was a gaping, black hole three feet long and two feet wide. “By the Lion, I do not like this place,” Reposco declared.
“Dwarfs don’t ordinarily fear holes, but I fear that one,” said ‘Serjeant’ Hunwine. “This looks like the kind of place Orcneas would be found”.
Reposco dismounted and tethered his horse to a tree. He took a lantern from Asmundr and thrust it into the opening. “There are some steps,” he said. “Serjeant, would you come with me and…Sindri too. The rest of you keep guard”. He lowered himself into the hole and proceeded down the steps, crouched over. He had a sword in one hand and a lantern in the other. Sindri, at the back, also held a lantern and a short, stabbing sword.
The tomb was clearly of great age. The stone walls were green and damp. Cobwebs hung like lace from the ceilings and fungus grew in cracks on the stairs. They tried to be as stealthy as possible but – as they were all in mail – it was impossible to be very quiet. All three of them were conscious of the sound of their own breathing.
They had descended about twenty feet when they came to an opening. They were about to enter the heart of the tomb. Lifting his lantern high, Reposco gazed about the room. It was bare except for a stone casket bereft of its lid. “Wait here,” he whispered. He stepped forward as his companions stood at the ready.
The young man walked slowly towards the casket. His lamp still held high, he gazed inside the sarcophagus. To his horror he was confronted with the almost skeletal body of a long-dead person. She had been a woman: judging by the copious, decorated robe and the flowing, if straw-like, hair. He looked at the desiccated body and the parchment like skin on its cheeks. He gasped involuntarily as its mouth suddenly opened and the head jerked upwards as if looking at him. Startled, he dropped his lantern. The candle dropped out and its flame met the robe on the corpse. Whatever material it was made of was highly flammable. Flames flared up in seconds.
“Get back,” Reposco commanded, and the dwarfs edged away. There was a terrifying screech from the body as the Orknie burned. It was the type of noise that makes you feel sick to the pit of your stomach.
‘Serjeant,’ Hunwine winced. “Well, I reckon you got it, boss! There can’t be too many of them things around here.”
“Good blood runs in you, dear boy; your words are proof”
There was much pleasure at Reposco’s return to Cair Paravel. He was feted for destroying the revenant: even though he modestly disclaimed it as a mere accident. A feast was held in his honour. The High King had wanted to reward him there and then. Reposco instead asked that he might be granted an audience in the morning. Peter was disappointed not to have knighted the young man on the spot, but resolved to do it before the sun set again.
“I saw your shield, sir,” commented Queen Lucy.
“My shield, ma’am?”
“The shield with the pentacle – the endless knot – is it your own?” the Queen went on.
“The shield was taken from my former Calormen master, majesty. The device is indeed my own”.
“Is it a hereditary device?” Lucy asked.
Reposco hesitated for a moment, as if considering how much to reveal. “It was, traditionally, the device of my family”.
“Your family are from the Lone Islands, I recall?”
The man nodded. “They lived there for a number of generations, ma’am.”
“It’s curious. I’m sure I have seen that device carved somewhere – in stone – here in Cair Paravel”. Lucy held his gaze.
“As you say ma’am, it is curious. May I fetch you another drink?”
At ten o’clock the next morning, Reposco was shown into the High King’s closet. “Ah, my dear fellow, pray come in.”
The young man bowed to his King. “Majesty, I thank you for hearing me.”
“You are most welcome. You know my ambitions for you. I would see you knighted,” Peter smiled.
Reposco looked somewhat troubled. “I thank you most sincerely, majesty, but I don’t think that I can accept.” The King looked ludicrously disappointed. “I once asked if you would give me fair hearing. Would you let me explain?”
“Of course,” said Peter, who looked troubled. He sat himself down in a chair. “Please, sit”.
Reposco seated himself and clasped his hands together. “I told you truthfully that my family had lived for some generations in the Lone Islands. They were, however, originally from Narnia.”
Peter smiled, “Well, that’s no surprise. You have the look of a true Narnian.”
“I’m proud of it, majesty. We believe that the family is descended from King Gale of Narnia; albeit distantly and through a female line with no claim on the throne. Whatever the truth of the matter may be, we held a small estate in the North of the land until three hundred years ago. We were driven out by one of the bad kings of those times”.
“Excellent; that can be righted,” the King enthused. “We can grant you land in the north, if that is your wish.”
“Thank you, majesty,” said Reposco gratefully. He was suddenly shy and stared down at his feet.
“You’ll be knighted too, of course.”
The young man got up out of his chair, and paced about the room. “I would take the land if you still want to offer me it,” he said. “I cannot take the knighthood though”.
“Why, on Narnia, not?”
Reposco pulled a linen handkerchief out of his sleeve. “Let me show you something, majesty”. He went over to the table and poured a little wine into a goblet. He dipped a corner of his handkerchief into the cup and then rubbed hard at his chin. He held out the white cloth that now bore a small smudge.
“I don’t quite understand,” said the King, perplexed.
“It is called ‘Kal’ majesty. It is a very effective form of make-up known throughout Calormen. Ladies use it for their eyes because it does not run. I use it to simulate facial hair because I do not have any; being a woman.”
“A woman!” Peter shot up from his chair.
Reposco looked down at her feet again. “I was always a little large for my sex; hands, feet, height. I dressed as a boy for my own safety when attacked by pirates. I haven’t stopped since.” Her voice was suddenly lighter and less husky.
“By the Lion’s mane! This is the most audacious thing I have ever heard of.” Peter laughed. “Do not fear Reposco… It is Reposco, isn’t it?”
“That is truly my name, majesty,” the young woman nodded.
“Fear not. You shall have your land and a place at court.” The High King slapped his hands together. “Wait until my brothers and sisters hear this jest; they will love you more than ever”. His eyes shone as an idea occurred to him. “In fact, we can have a little fun at their expense…”
Reposco did not appear at the board that night. After dinner, the High King insisted that the royal family – and their principal advisers – assemble in his closet.
“What is the mystery, brother?” Edmund asked, warming himself before the fire.
“Yes, do tell,” said Lucy.
“I would like you all to meet someone. In fact, I think that she’s here now.” A page opened the door and stepped aside to let in a woman. She was dressed simply but expensively in a damask dress and woollen mantle. She wore a white wimple with a row of curls peeping out on her forehead. She made a slightly gauche curtsy.
“Welcome madam,” said Queen Susan graciously. She looked at Peter for an introduction but none was forthcoming. “As I said, you are welcome, madam,” Queen Susan repeated. She looked hard at the woman, her eyes narrowing. “Do I know you? You look familiar. Rather like someone… have you a relative at Court?”
“No, majesty,” said the woman, hesitantly. “I am the only one at Court.”
The other queen, Lucy, clapped her hands delightedly. “Reposco! I knew that there was something about you but I couldn’t quite place it!”
Without thinking, Reposco made a bow. “I tender my apologies, majesty, for deceiving you!”
“Am I to lose my clerk?” laughed Edmund. “Brother; I think that you or the lady had better tell us more, without delay!”
The deception was the talk of the Court for many days. Some few said – in private – that they’d always known that there was something unusual about the young ‘man’. Nobody, in honesty, could say that they had guessed the actual truth.
Reposco kept her place at Court and was granted an estate in the north. She remained close to King Edmund and matchmakers hoped that there might be romance in the air. Reposco did get married – but not to Edmund. After the disappearance of the royal siblings, it was Reposco and her husband who succeeded to the thrones of Narnia. That is, however, a story for another day and I grow a little weary right now.
THE END
- A dated expression of surprise
- Meaning he was in need of a shave
- Liberality, kindness, continence, courtesy and piety
- A small private chamber used by the King for meetings