Disclaimer: Narnia and its characters belongs to others. I'm only playing. This story was also inspired by a fic by K. M. Petravich called "Lessons," which I admire and would highly recommend.

A/N: My story is a supposition in the sense that it fills in certain blanks about Aravis's family, Calormen, its people and their customs. However, if anyone sees something in here that does not fit with the books, I'd appreciate hearing about it. Thank you and enjoy!

Kidrash Tarkaan was a busy man. All morning he had been sending slaves hither and yon, paging through piles of parchment, flipping through account books and opening scrolls. He was more than a little frustrated. His predecessor had been an incompetent, lazy fool, recently executed for insulting the Crown Prince; he had obviously known nothing of bookkeeping or organization. Luckily Kidrash had the help of his estimable secretary Azar, who had already established an efficient procedure for sorting and filing the paperwork of the new administration.

Kidrash had just been appointed governor of Calavar province, a high honour, and he had a thousand matters which needed attention as he took office. He threw the double doors in front of him open with a bang, and strode into the main room of his suite, almost missing the light footsteps that skittered quickly on the polished floor a few feet behind him. Sighing, he paused in front of his desk for an instant. He did not have time for his small motherless daughter to be trailing after him. She followed him about the offices of his new palace like a forlorn little ghost, as she had for many days through all his houses since the death of Afari, the woman who had been both her mother and the delight of his eyes.

He squeezed the bridge of his nose for a moment, willing back the tears, and then picked up a sheaf of parchment with the figures from last year's grain harvest. Aravis did not dawdle in the entranceway, but slid lithely into the room along the wall, curling up noiselessly on an ottoman beside the desk, next to his feet. He surreptitiously glanced down at her out of the corner of his eyes.

She looked small and unhappy, curled up there at his feet, with her hair untidy, her little face pinched and her wiry body tense. She had been running wild, getting more and more unmanageable since the death of her mother seven months before. He was beginning to think about taking another wife, although he was far from ready, if only to have some help with disciplining her. A marriageable daughter could be a valuable asset for a rising man in his position. For Aravis's own sake, also, he wanted her to become the womanly, gracious Tarkheena her mother had been. But increasingly Kidrash feared that, with her strange ways and wilful temper, Aravis would grow up to be the wife of no man.

If she was not busy with her governess, more often than not Chazaq, his first-born son and the pride of his heart, would entertain his sister by taking Aravis swimming or to the stables to pet his new stallion and feed it dates. Today, though, Chazaq was out riding on the ridge, training with the teenage sons of some local Tarkaans from the all over the province in preparation for his entry into the military academy for the martial education of young nobles at Teshibaan. He was fifteen, and it was not too soon to send him away to school, since the sons of Tarkaans were all supposed to enter the Tisroc's army in their sixteenth year and serve for at least three years. And anyway, his children were both getting to be too old to engage in those boyish pastimes of hunting, swimming, and riding in which too often he and their mother had allowed them to indulge themselves.

"Where is your governess, Aravis?" Kidrash frowned at her.

She shrugged her slender shoulders and did not answer. He sighed a second time, because this insolent silence meant that she had escaped from her lessons again. She was forever slipping away from her governess's tutelage, complaining that she did not like to embroider or play the mandolin or memorize proverbs or acquire any of the other graceful accomplishments that a Tarkaan's daughter needed to learn before she was of marriageable age. He had ordered the governess beaten several times, to give her more incentive for curbing Aravis's wandering, but this punishment had had no effect whatsoever. He did not like to keep castigating the slave for behaviour that he knew was really due to Aravis's waywardness.

"O my daughter and O the cause of my many gray hairs, how is it you would plague my life out this day?" He put down the parchment, which made for laborious reading without his secretary's clarity of expression, and turned to face her fully.

Aravis dimpled at him, for she knew from his address to her that he would likely indulge her for a little while, busy though he was.

"O my father, and O the light of our household, tell me of the barbarians to the North," she coaxed. "Azar has told me of their frozen domain and its horrible demons, but he is ignorant of their nature. How came they to that land? What repulsive forms do they assume? And what spells and enchantments do they employ on those who are foolish enough to enter their country?"

Not for the first time did Kidrash regret allowing Aravis to play about his offices since her babyhood. His faithful secretary, Azar, had ever been her playmate, and of late had been consoling her in her grief with fantastic stories of far away lands as he sorted the tedious mountains of files.

Kidrash Tarkaan folded his hands and leaned back against the high desk, littered with account books, parchments, scrolls and boxes of more scrolls. He gave his curious daughter an exasperated look as he spoke his thought sternly: "Listen, my daughter, to your father, for his gray hairs are a sign of wisdom as well as of worry. Does not the poet say, the amelioration of old age is wisdom, and gray hairs hide naught but golden thoughts? It little profits you to waste your youth wondering after strange lands. The land to the north is under the curse of Tash, and that should be the end of it."

Aravis set her delicate jaw, jutting out her chin stubbornly, and Kidrash felt a pang deep in his chest. Her mother had used to look so, when she insisted on dragging him away from his books, papers and the cares of his office, teasing him into joining her and their children on the beach for a picnic or a swim. The last time Afari had shown such stubbornness, he remembered, was in her icy determination to leave the heat and stink of Tashbaan, along with the Tisroc's contentious court, for the cool comfort of their summer palace by the lake.

"My father, does not the poet also say, it is profitable for the young to seek the lustrous wisdom of age, for the ignorance of youth clouds the mind as a mist of darkness?" Aravis asked demurely, glancing up at him from under her black eyelashes, with a small, pert smile.

Kidrash laughed despite himself, and his heart lightened. Aravis would have the last word as usual. Like her mother, she always had a ready answer.

"Very well, my daughter, born to trouble my mind and lighten my heart, I will tell you of the demons to the North" – and, as Aravis gave a sudden squeal, and clapped her hands together excitedly, he wagged his forefinger at her – "provided you agree to spend the rest of the day in dutiful obedience to the tasks your governess sets you." He touched a golden bell hanging beside his desk with a small hammer. It was just before midday, and he might as well stop for lunch since his daughter was bent on distracting him. Azar would not be back from his duties at the docks until the early afternoon, and he could use his help deciphering these grain yield figures in any case.

A slave entered silently and bowed low.

"Bring us a light luncheon, to be served in this office, and send word to Aman that my daughter is lunching with me and will return to her studies at the first hour after midday," he ordered. The slave bowed low again, and retreated as silently as he had come.

Then Kidrash walked back to his daughter Aravis and offered his arm to her.

"Great is your wisdom, O my father, and greater yet will be my obedience" she said mildly, but her sidelong glance at him was as cheeky as ever. She sprang up with agility, took his arm and followed him to the long mahogany table near the richly curtained windows of the spacious office, where he and his officials would soon be holding meetings and poring over documents. Azar had stacked one end of the table full of books and boxes of parchment pertaining to the silk trade, but the head of it was still clear.

He seated Aravis and then took his own chair. He could not sit crosslegged, for the chair had an ornate upholstered back and slippery seat, but he could rest his arms on the velvet-covered armrests in the appropriate position. "Listen, then, my daughter, for the wonders of the strange land of Narnia are many and terrible, and its history acts as a warning to all who hear it. The land itself was not always frozen but was once a verdant paradise, more moderate and temperate than Ilkeeth, the best of our provinces. But its people (for there were men who lived there from the dawn of the world) did not acknowledge Tash the Inexorable or the gods. In folly and rebellion, they worshipped a foul and monstrous demon in the shape of a lion. Their blasphemy and offensiveness to the gods can be seen in that very fact, for are not cats the most deceitful of creatures? And are not lions the most savage and bloodthirsty? Not only do they rend their prey with long claws and devour it, but they viciously toy and play with it as the stray cat does with the mouse."

"The great god Tash was displeased with the men of Narnia for their defiance. He sent out his curse on the land, transforming many of its inhabitants into unnatural demons and spirits. I myself, in my former days as Ambassador, was sent by the Tisroc (may he live forever!) himself into this accursed country to meet and make trade with them, and saw these horrible creatures with my own eyes. Though they have faces resembling those of men, the lower parts of their bodies are grotesquely misshapen, having the form of huge horses or hairy goats' legs. Their soulless women are equally unnatural and accursed, whispering in voices like the wind or the babbling brook and wearing skin of the most unnatural shades of pale green and blue, with leaves and foliage sprouting out of their heads, or hair like sheets of water. Some others of them Tash has blighted and compressed in stature, for they stand no taller than children and yet appear like goblins. It is even said that the animals speak and think like men, and indeed did I witness great cats, beavers, foxes, birds, mice, squirrels and all manner of vermin chattering, gabbing and prattling with all the din of the farmyard or forest, in the Narnian throne room itself. So you can see that everything in Narnia is out of its natural place and in chaos. And yet the Narnians, both these devils and the men who remained (for yes, there were still some whom Tash was pleased to leave in their original shapes) delighted in this disorder and continued their profane worship of the demon lion."

At this moment, the double doors of the office swung open and three large slaves entered, each bearing heavily laden trays. Aravis drummed her fingers impatiently on the table at the interruption, until her father frowned at her before turning his gaze to the slaves.

Although Kidrash had requested a light meal, by which he had meant perhaps some baked fish with oil and rice, or a cooked waterfowl and vegetables, the food which the slaves placed on the table before them was lavish and elaborately prepared. Kidrash scowled with displeasure when he saw that luncheon included a basket of freshly baked breads, spiced rice, three different kinds of curry, steamed shellfish, glazed roast fowl, an enormous bowl of fresh fruit and various ices. Obviously he was going to have to have a word with the kitchen staff. He would refrain from correction for now, he decided, because he had not yet had time to instruct them in his preferences. Kidrash was a frugal lord who hated waste of any kind, but he doubted not that his predecessor had been an intemperate man and a glutton. The former governor's slaves could hardly be blamed for his extravagance, and Kidrash's own staff were as yet too few to have made much of an impact yet. He would just have to set some new standards here himself.

Once the slaves had finished setting out the dinner service and the meal, they silently began dishing out the food. Kidrash pointed out his few simple choices in silent resentment, as it was customary for the Tarkaans and Tarkheenas of Calormen to speak to their slaves only when absolutely necessary. Then, realizing she hadn't moved, he looked in surprise at his daughter. When he caught sight of her face, he doubted the wisdom of filling the head of such a wild girl-child with phantasms and grotesque beasts for the first time.

Aravis was resting her chin on her hand, her face dreamy and her dark eyes shining with visions of the cursed northern country. She was completely unaware of the agitated slave dancing nervous attendance on her at her elbow. Since in some households slaves could be executed for a simple mistake like putting the wrong food on a lord's plate, Kidrash had no doubt but that the man was deathly afraid of erring.

"Aravis, attend to your meal," he said severely, and Aravis gave a start and then smiled guiltily over her shoulder at the slave. The next minute Kidrash was pleased to see that she only selected a slice of the roast fowl, some rice and some curried vegetables for her meal, and, waving away the ices, took a ripe pear to complete it. He was determined to ensure that his children did not become tainted by the blight of luxury, for all that he was now a governor, and it was good to see that Aravis had not forgotten her mother's dainty manners.

"But what of the ice and snow, father?" questioned Aravis eagerly, as a slave poured her a goblet of wine. "How did these come to cover the land so thickly? For Azar did say that at one time Narnia was so cold that its people and animals were frozen into statues."

"Leave us," ordered Kidrash curtly, and the three slaves at once gathered up the unwanted food still on the trays, gave a perfectly synchronised bow before him, and disappeared silently through the double doors an instant later.

Swallowing his unease about the dubious wisdom of telling this story to his impressionable daughter with a sip of wine, Kidrash resumed his tale. "While our empire prospered and grew under the favour of the gods, Narnia continued to delight in its disorder and blasphemy. And thus it was that Tash the Destroyer became ever angrier at this impiety, until finally in his vengeance he sent forth a vassal to teach Narnia its place. She was ageless in her beauty, tall of stature, white and cold, yet deadly in fury. Some say she was an ice Queen and giantess from the far North, while others hold that she was a powerful sorceress. Whatever her nature, she was Tash's servant and at his command she bound the land of Narnia in a terrible winter so that nothing could grow or thrive there. The men fled through the hills to the mountainous country of Archenland, and the unnatural creatures of that land began to die until only the foullest and most savage remained."

Aravis was picking at her food like a little bird, her small, dark head bowed over her plate. But Kidrash could tell from her attentive posture that she was listening avidly to every word he said. He took a few mouthfuls of rice, and then another sip of wine, and continued his tale.

"The ice Queen's power was so great that the land of Narnia remained bound and frozen in ice for a hundred years. In their wisdom, the Tisrocs of our Bight (may the peace of the gods be upon them!) refrained from any contact with it, for they knew that they would excite the disfavour of Tash and his servant if they were to intrude on Tash's terrible and awesome judgement against Narnia in any way." He broke off a chunk of flat bread and dipped it in his bowl of oil, chewing and swallowing neatly before speaking again. Aravis had given up any pretense of eating her meal, and was now watching him with round eyes and parted lips.

"The next part of the story, I heard from the people of Archenland and Narnia themselves, for rumours did reach our new Tisroc's ears (may his reign be unending!) while your brother was first learning to ride and fight with the scimitar, and you were yet a prattling toddler, that the ice Queen's wintry spell had been lifted by some dark magic. We had it first from merchantmen and traders, and then the lords of Archenland did send joyful word that the long winter of Narnia was over. They said many of their people, those of Narnian descent, were returning to their former homes, under the rule of four unearthly children. The Tisroc (may he live forever!), who is the fount of all wisdom and prudence, did send messengers craving audience with these purported Kings and Queens. For he wished to ascertain how this miracle had come about, and whether or not Tash had left Narnia like a ripe fruit, plump and ready to fall into his outstretched hand. They granted his request, and on the day you received your first ride on your pony, at the hand of your brother and under the watchful eye of your mother, on the green lawns of our summer home, I was summoned by the Tisroc (may he live forever!) to court and sent in my role as Ambassador, in the company of six officials and some few soldiers and slaves, first to Archenland, to gather intelligence, and thence to Narnia itself."

A light breeze stirred the heavy curtains, which had been loosed from their sashes, and Aravis stared out of the window unseeingly, with a wistful look on her face, perhaps remembering that long ago happy day by the shores of the lake. For a moment, Kidrash bowed his head over his meal, inwardly and silently mourning for his lost wife once more, and then took up the thread of his tale in a slightly shaky voice this time.

"In Archenland, we heard rumours that the monstrous demon, the accursed lion, whose teeth and claws are sharper than knives, had returned to Narnia, casting powerful magic spells. It warmed up the land in the furnace of its breath and melted the ice and snow of Tash's wrath against Tash's will. At the same time, the lion called up four ghosts from the realm of the dead (or so we gathered, for when we saw them, they appeared as white, pale and bloodless as any ghost), gave them flesh again, and attacked the servant of Tash with them. Yet though her magic spells were broken, the ice Queen remained prodigiously powerful, and it is said that during one of their titanic struggles she slew the demon lion. So odious, unnatural and hideous is that demon, however, that it could not be slain, but rose up the next day, completely unharmed, and infringed further upon the will of Tash by slaying Tash's once immortal servant, the ice Queen, who is now safe in the house of her mother, Zardeenah, the Lady of the Night."

Aravis, her face spellbound, dropped her silver utensil and began shivering all over with delicious horror. All at once, Kidrash remembered guiltily that in the years of her infancy, his daughter had often suffered from nightmares of lions, sometimes waking screaming. These nightmares began because of an incautious remark from Azar as he was telling one of his stories. Azar had received the rough edge of Afari's tongue for his blabbing but no worse, so great was the esteem in which Kidrash and his Tarkheena held him.

Now he could almost hear his wife's reproof, directed at him this time, for stirring up these old childhood fears of Aravis's with his foolish tales. "Are these the actions of a loving father?" she would ask him reproachfully, "Thrilling your only daughter with tales of terror from the barbaric North until her very eyes are starting from her head?" And yet, Kidrash could not forget himself the awful and indelible impression the strange land of Narnia had made on him, and indeed on all his company. Thus, he found himself unable to check the words tumbling out of his mouth. Other than his report to the Tisroc, and his account to his fair lady, he had never shared tales of his visit to Narnia with anyone. He discovered suddenly that he was pleased to relate his myriad impressions to such an attentive audience.

Aravis looked up, meeting his eyes, and he watched with pride as she straightened her back, and schooled her features into a formal mask. Oh, perhaps she would make a great Tarkheena someday yet. She had the high courage of her noble mother's blood.

He picked up his shellfish and cracked it open, and for a few moments they ate in silence, each pondering his or her thoughts.

He idly recalled sitting next to the eldest Queen at a banquet on their first night in Narnia, asking her in politeness who had placed the crown of golden stars upon her head. She inclined her elegant head towards him, her eyes shining like the stars in her hair, and said proudly that the great Lion himself had done it, commanding her to rule under him and her brother the High King forever, and to "bear it well," whatever that meant.

Although she looked to be barely thirteen or fourteen, the girl Queen had a grace and manner of speaking that reminded him of his beloved Afari, whom he had not seen for many months by that point.

Kidrash shook his head, dispelling the dim recollection. Then, feeling Aravis's eyes fixed impatiently upon him, he resumed his tale:

"When we finally reached Narnia, after many days' travel through the dense and murky forests of that country, we did marvel to look upon Kings and Queens barely out of the cradle. The eldest, him they call the High King, was but a few years older than your brother, a callow, beardless youth, and the youngest queen, a giddy gold-headed child, seemed a mere scant number of years older than yourself."

"And yet there was a strange magic about them, for we marked with what great state and gravity they answered us when we introduced ourselves. The High King smiled only with his mouth and spoke clever, well chosen words of goodwill while his younger brother was ever silent and watchful of us, as grave as a gray-bearded counsellor. The eldest Queen, though a maiden barely at the age of betrothal, her body yet unformed, had the enchanting beauty, wit and grace of bearing usually found in a woman twice her age. Even the littlest Queen, though she was merry one moment with the unnatural talking creatures and misshapen demons of that country, could, at a look from her sister, become as still and quiet as a statue. And indeed her strange blue eyes often seemed to reflect the thoughts of an adult."

"We shifted nervously in our shoes but paid them honour in civilized fashion, offering them many compliments. Meanwhile we were observing everything we could about their strange white palace, which sits high upon a cliff by the ocean, echoing day and night with the ceaseless moans of the sea. And inwardly we wondered at these child monarchs, for they carried numberless secrets in their eyes, and almost could we believe that they must have returned from the land of the dead carrying a knowledge beyond their years."

Remembering a little of that first tense conversation, he toyed with his eating utensil absently, while Aravis sighed with impatience at his elbow.

"What brings you so far from Calormen, to our fair realm of Narnia, my noble lord?" inquired the High King, when the first greetings and pleasantries were over, and the monarchs had resumed their thrones.

Kidrash, who had been anxiously watching a great leopard which was lashing its tail near him and fixing him with its fathomless eyes, came to himself abruptly and bowed low.

"O mighty and august king, for many years have we in Calormen watched Narnia from afar, wondering at the strange nature of your land of perpetual winter. Then did we hear curious rumours that you and your royal siblings had won a colossal victory over the Narnian Queen called Jadis, the servant of Tash. This news only increased our wonder, for we had heard much of her immortal beauty, power and might ..."

While saying these words, he straightened up and realized that, incautiously, he had somehow offended the infantine sovereigns before him, who were no longer wearing the forced smiles of courtesy. The first King's eyes were shuttered, his face a closed book, while his brother the High King wore a forbidding expression like a thundercloud upon his brow. His beautiful sister beside him, with lovely eyes downcast, had her face shadowed by sorrow, whereas the little Queen at the end looked sharply right at him with her strange bright blue eyes sparking in indignation.

After a moment of dismay, Kidrash found his voice again and faltered on with his speech, "Our ... uh ... Tisroc (may he live forever) seeks to gain the ... ah ... goodwill and friendship of ... um ... such fierce and mighty lords and ladies who could accomplish the unaccountable defeat of so powerful a Queen." He now became aware of myriad growlings and mutterings rising from behind and all around him. His nervousness at standing in the middle of this strangely alive throne room caused him to forget what he'd been planning to say next -- something about the ties of friendship being strengthened by trade and commerce -- and so he fell silent.

The silence stretched on for an uncomfortable moment, until at length the High King spoke in a voice of enforced calm: "My lord Kidrash Tarkaan, you should know that it is not the custom of Narnians to speak of Jadis as a Queen of Narnia. For she seized and ruled our fair land as a vile, bloody, unnatural and foreign usurper. Moreover, her defeat came not by our power alone but by the power, will and authority of Aslan, who is our good Lord and the High King over all High Kings of Narnia."

"Won't you tell me more of the strange sights of Narnia, my father?" asked Aravis at last, breaking into his thoughts as her patience, never in abundant supply, abruptly wore thin.

"With your incessant questions, you make me doubt the wisdom of telling you these outlandish things," Kidrash admonished her. "Remember that the poet said, ‛A woman's silence is more eloquent than her speech, therefore let her teeth be a pearly lock against an unhinged tongue.'" Then he held up a finger in warning as Aravis, with a mutinous look in her eye, opened her mouth to respond. She playfully put her tongue out at him instead. They grinned at each other for a second as he finished his rice, and he took up his tale again.

"Narnia is a country of many strange sights, and strangest of all was the throne room of the white palace, which nearly every day seemed to be filled with a menagerie of animals babbling, caterwauling, howling, and jabbering with petitions and disputations for the young monarchs' ears. For the first three banquets also, we were sickened to see the animals and demons eating in the banquet hall, alongside the men and ladies newly returned from Archenland. Some of these creatures were seated at the high table amongst us."

He grimaced as he remembered only too well the drawn faces of some of his men whenever the dinner hour approached, as well as his constant, wearying need to exhort them to act like men and not frightened children.

"Every night, a few more of our group grew faint at the sight and were forced to withdraw to their rooms, until the youngest king, he who was still a mere boy, came to me in private, and asked me quietly what was ailing my company. I could not tell him that we detested the sight of their accursed demons and she-devils, nor mention our uneasiness about their zoo of pets, but I apprised him of the fact that the wonderful strangeness of Narnia's marvels was unfamiliar to us, and that some of my men felt daily as though they were dreaming. Whereupon he frowned mightily, not in displeasure but in serious thought, and said he would reflect upon what I had said."

Kidrash still recalled the sombre face which the boy king wore as he had spoken these words. He recalled too the snippets of conversation he'd later overheard coming from one of the council rooms while he was on one of his creeping surveys of the castle's defenses for the Tisroc.

"... have to show our diplomacy and tact ..." He stopped in the shadows as he recognized the musical voice of the eldest Queen, "for think how strange we found our dear Mr. Beaver's words to us at first. Our citizens must likewise be passing strange to them ..."

"Our friends belong at our table," insisted the youngest Queen boldly, "and no gloomy diplomats from across the desert should be able to deny us their company, no matter how squeamish they are!"

"What say you, Sallowpad?" Now the High King was speaking. Then came a croaking, cackling voice that set Kidrash's skin crawling. "It's all one to me, your Majesty. I have no craving for the drawn out dull affairs that these banquets have become, but for the honour of Narnia and your loves, I will attend if I am invited. "

"Ed?"

"Their prejudice irks me," said the boy-king in a measured voice, "but at the same time we're not making any headway in getting to know them while they keep fleeing to their bedchambers. Nor have we managed to broach the subject of trade informally to gain a sense of what they might be seeking in coming here. It might be wise, before we open formal negotiations next week, to try a different approach."

"That's just what I say," the first Queen's voice chimed in again. "I suggest that we give them smaller banquets, private dinners, with just ourselves and a few of our well-loved human friends in attendance ... for the sake of their ease only. We cannot have our first visitors from Calormen complaining of our incivility and indifference to their comfort."

The youngest Queen started to speak out indignantly, but was cut off by her eldest brother's voice.

"Wait, Lu -- Tumnus, you have not yet spoken?"

"Your Majesty will pardon my suspicion, but we also do not know what these supposedly sick lords of Calormen are doing while the whole of Cair Paravel is either serving or feasting in the Great Hall and the kitchens. More than once I have come across a stray visitor claiming to be lost in the area of the armory, the library or the council rooms. It would be well to keep them together, and to allow a few of our company to go about their duties in various parts of the castle in the evenings."

There was a weighty pause, and Kidrash held his breath lest any should overhear him.

At length, the High King spoke, with a note of weariness in his voice, "Henceforth we will invite the lords of Calormen to private dinners in our dining room rather than banquets in the Great Hall. In attendance will be sundry new Narnian ladies and gentlemen in pairs at a time, as well as some three or four representative Narnians of each kind in rotation. That should give everyone a rest from interminable banquets, and present fewer sources of fear for the strangers, without hiding our citizenry as if in shame. For we must not allow the discomfort of our guests to dislodge Free Narnians from the heart of their kingdom, which is Cair."

Kidrash had tiptoed away as someone, perhaps the youngest Queen, cheered and applauded, and the voices began again. He was as stunned by the freedom with which the women and creatures spoke, as he was by the maturity and shrewdness of this company of mere children. It was disconcerting too, to see how well supplied with good counsel they were among their number alone.

"Pray continue your fantastical and fascinating tale, my father," requested Aravis saucily, as she lifted her plump and juicy pear to her mouth and bit into it. Her dark eyes danced with excitement. Kidrash came back to himself all at once, took another bite of his meal, smiled at his small daughter's eagerness, and continued.

"The youngest King returned to my chambers, inviting us to dinner at the Queens' table. With a steely gaze he suggested pleasantly that all of our company should feel well enough to attend in this intimate setting, and I knew I would have to compel even the lowest official to dine with the Narnians in the evenings or risk giving offense. These dinners (although stripped of nearly all pomp and ceremony, and held in a simple, starkly appointed room, apparently the family's private dining room) were more comfortable than the banquets had been, and we finally discussed some matters of trade and diplomacy."

"But unhappily in this smaller setting, without the distractions of dances, ballads and recitations, did we also note with discomfort how frequently the talk turned to the demon lion and its magic. Even when they spoke of their battles and heroic deeds, they spoke also of the lion, or swore by the lion or the lion's mane. We were at a loss to understand their reactions to this evil spirit. When we asked, they spoke equally of fear and delight, and yet the youngest queen herself admitted to me that the monstrous beast is wild and untamed. We told them little of our gods, whose inexorable power and glory we doubted they would understand. Whenever they or some members of their company questioned us concerning our customs with politely feigned interest, we spoke instead of the vastness and history of our Bight, its varied terrain and splendid cities ..."

All at once, Kidrash recalled sitting next to the youngest Queen at one of these dinners. With her childish prattle and laughter, she reminded him of his own little daughter more than was bearable. She had also surprised him with her perceptiveness on this occasion. He'd been describing the lake near his home in the country, when she had made an astute observation. "You're homesick, my lord?" she'd inquired with a warm and compassionate smile. "I know what it's like to be homesick, too, pining for a well-loved place, and especially for the people there. It rankles, doesn't it, when you can't get back to them."

Kidrash pushed his empty plate aside, frowning at Aravis's sparkling eyes; he sensed that it was now time to bring the moral of this long tale home to her: "Then, on my last night after wandering the castle, certain hours before our departure the next day at dawn, I glimpsed the hideous demon myself from my balcony."

Aravis leaned forward eagerly, planting her elbows on the table in front of her. "What happened?" she asked breathlessly. Kidrash looked pointedly at the offending elbows until they were removed, and then resumed.

"Over the course of our visit, I had noted that it was the custom of one, two or sometimes all four of the young monarchs to walk barefoot and bareheaded through the surf on the beach below the castle at sunset. Sometimes the eldest would toss the youngest squealing into the waves, and sometimes they all splashed each other with shouts of laughter like the children they seemed to be. Sometimes the youngest one would run ahead of the others, kicking up sand and water, while the three older ones walked behind and conversed. This night she was indeed far ahead of them when to my horror I spotted the huge shape of an enormous lion approaching her. It paced silently along the shore of the ocean, much larger than any natural lion in size. The golden shimmering of its mane and fur was like fire, brighter than the light of the sunset, and painful to look at as well. Its cruel teeth and claws glinted in the setting sun so that, distant though I was, I could see them plainly."

Aravis gave a little gasp and jerked her hand convulsively, knocking over her wine goblet, which fortunately was empty.

Kidrash shuddered himself and went on: "When she caught sight of the lion, the little one gave a cry of joy, not loud but piercing, that reached my ears even on my balcony. She darted towards it like an arrow. The others at once looked up from their pacing and also sped forward as though they had wings on their heels. Then did I turn away in disgust from the unnatural sight of children rushing at the ravenous beast, and retreated into my bedroom, where for the first time I noticed a tapestry covering almost the whole wall opposite the balcony door."

"It was pleasing to the eye in the vivid hues of its colours. Yet although it had been woven with no little skill and artistry, I felt only aversion when I found it depicted scenes of the lion and the children. First there appeared a picture of the lion sitting enthroned with all manner of creatures surrounding it, and three of the children, dressed in outlandish garb, kneeling before it. Then came a picture of the two girls at nightfall, now wearing the gowns and cloaks of Queens, walking on either side of the lion with their hands buried in its mane. The middle panel showed the girls in front of a broken slab of stone dancing around the lion and encircling it a with garland of flowers, and the fourth depicted them riding on its back surrounded on all sides by creatures clothed in martial dress and bearing weapons. The final picture showed the throne room below me, with the four children, now crowned, standing in pairs on either side of the lion. In all of these pictures, the gold thread decorating the mane of the lion glinted as it caught the final rays of the setting sun."

"Then did reality break into my mind like that golden light. The High King (whom may the gods utterly reject) had spoken truly when he told me that he and his siblings had not defeated the ice Queen alone. The children are not mighty, I realized, for indeed they are nothing but puppets of the lion: it is It which speaks through them, imbuing their words and eyes with arcane and no doubt forbidden knowledge. Its powerful magic has Narnia completely under its sway. Thus the northern land of Narnia will continue to be accursed as long as it is haunted by the lion. For it is a land that knows not Tash the Irresistible nor the gods from the whole of one end to the other."

"As I thought this, my room grew hateful to me, because of the sight of that tapestry, so I forced my next official to make an exchange. And it was with great relief in the whole company that we turned our faces toward Calormen, and our backs to Narnia, departing for home the next day."

"Remember, my daughter, that the North is full of deceits and dangers. It persists in its blasphemy and disorder, and will certainly be punished by Tash the Irresistible again before long. Therefore also turn your mind from longing after tales of its strange wonders, for these things are unnatural and abhorrent to the gods."

Having concluded his tale so portentously and formally, Kidrash stood up in silence and strode over to the bell to give it a tap.

Aravis looked thoughtful. "Does everyone in Narnia believe the lion to be a demon?" she asked innocently.

Her father looked at her, and once more his heart was filled with misgivings. "They are self-deceived and blinded in their ignorance," he said shortly, just as three slaves re-entered the room and bowed low. Kidrash gestured impatiently at the table, and immediately the men began clearing it , "And now, you, my daughter, have promised me that if I did satisfy your curiosity about the accursed North, you would apply yourself with all diligence to your lessons. Be a dutiful daughter and question me no more."

"Yes, my father." Aravis came to Kidrash, and stood on tiptoe to kiss him. Then she turned and headed towards the double doors, following the heavy-laden slaves, who paused to bow gracefully despite their loaded trays. Kidrash Tarkaan watched his wayward daughter toss him a last smile, and then exit through the double doors of his office. Then he put her out of his mind, and returned to his account books, grain yield figures and paperwork.

But that night and for many nights afterward, Aravis dreamed of a mighty golden lion, terrifying in its fiery splendour, who came closer and closer, opening cavernous jaws and swallowing her whole.

A/N: A note on the names I've given Lewis's unnamed characters: "Afari" means "Praiseworthy," "Azar" means "Helper," "Chazaq" means "Bravery or Brave one" and "Aman" means "Nurse." I hope they all sound like Calormen-style names.

Thanks for reading, and please review! Feedback, especially of the constructive variety, will be gratefully received and much appreciated.