Summery: Miraz was not betrayed in the duel and the Narnia's leadership has had to pay a terrible price for it. Now defeating the Telmarines will be more difficult than ever and the desire for vengeance may lead them astray. AU based largely off the movie. Sequel to "Cry Treachery".

Rating: T for violence

Disclaimer: I do not own Narnia in any way shape or form, however, the twist that this works off of and much of the following plot is my own. Do not use them without permission, please.

Author's Note: This is the sequel to "Cry Treachery", a one-shot I wrote the other day. Thus, I would suggest that you read that before you get involved in this story, however, I don't think that it's absolutely necessary. I've only seen the movie once, over a week ago, at the 12:01 showing, so my memory is rather sketchy. I have tried to fill in the holes with the book, but this is an AU story by it's very nature, so just take the inaccuracies as creative license. :P Finally, I'd like to thank all the reviewers that encouraged me and gave me suggestions in the continuation of this story.

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"Peter!" Edmond screamed, not caring that his voice cracked. Racing forward with all speed, he slid to the ground at his brother's side. "No, Peter! Peter, come on! Lucy's going to be here in just a moment, Aslan too," he pleaded. As gently as he could, he scooped up the elder boy's shoulder's and embraced him. His mouth worked for a moment, trying to find something more to say, anything, but all words fled his mind. Instead he turned his head to cast a baleful look at the bolt that protruded from Peter's ribs.

His brother was looking badly. Covered in sweat and blood, hair all amess; it pained Edmund to look at him. What was worse though was that his eyes seemed questioning, as if he wasn't quite sure what was happening. Peter always knew what was happening.

The clatter of steal broke him from his thoughts and he looked up to see Miraz staggering back with a red-fletched arrow in his shoulder. It was hardly a mortal wound, but it had been enough to keep the scum from trying anything else as he scurried back to his men. Briefly, Edmund chastised himself for letting an opponent go unwatched like that, but almost instantly his attention was drawn back to his brother.

Peter's lips were going blue now and he was struggling to breathe. Then deep red blood began to spill over his sibling's lips, making the situation even worse. It's his lung, he thought to himself, the bloody thing's been punctured. Part of him wanted to turn and begin shouting for help, but then people would crowd them, steel these few precious moments from him. He would not allow that, not when there was nothing they could do for the elder boy anyway. How he wished they were in London just then! They'd be able to get help there. Tears filled his eyes

Suddenly he realized Peter was trying to say something to him and he leaned closer, trying to make out the words, but no sound came. Still, he could read his brother's lips easily enough. Ed. He was calling for him. That finally broke whatever barriers had been left and tears started rolling down Edmund's cheeks. "I'm here, Peter, I'm here. I won't leave you. Don't leave us, Peter, we still need you. Peter..." he cried. His voice trailed off as he felt his brother stop moving. Taking a shuddering breath, he reached forward and closed the empty eyes.

When he looked up again, a black fire raged within him. Leaning over, he picked up Peter's sword and got to his feet. "You devils!" he growled and threw himself at the foremost soldiers in the Telmarine line, but he was held back by a pair of strong hands. Edmund tried to shrug them off, but they refused to let go.

"King Edmund, do not add your death to this. It will serve neither Narnia nor the King Peter," a voice behind him said in a thick Telmarine accent.

The young king glared over his shoulder at Caspian and hissed, "Let me go." As soon as the hands released their iron grip, he jerked away. Standing there for a long moment, he looked on Peter's murderers. There was a strange silence over the field as both sides wondered about their fate. What would Peter have done if their places were switched? It took him no time at all to answer the riddle. With a deliberate movement, he raised Peter's sword above his head and shouted, "Treachery! For Narnia, the Lion, and High King Peter, charge!" With that, he was off, running with all speed at the foe and feeling as if the sword was thirsting for blood.

He ducked under the first of the line and laid the man's belly open with a savage strike. He didn't really see his opponents, or hear them, he didn't even truly notice where their weapons flew. Every swing of his sword and every motion he made was dictated by instinct and instinct alone. The young king was in a red rage and he sought only two things, Miraz and Miraz's second, the one who'd been holding the crossbow during the duel. Brays, growls, howls, and screams surrounded him, but he was deaf to it all.

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Leaping astride a bay, Caspian raced back to the Howe. Glancing above the entrance, he saw Susan standing there, arrow knocked, like a statue in the sunlight. At once he lowered his eyes. Guilt ate at him, though he wasn't sure why.

As he entered the dimly lit interior of the fortress, he saw the Narnian soldiers gathered there. They looked uncertain and it occurred to him that they didn't know what had just happened, only that something seemed to be wrong. What was he doing leading these people? They needed someone else. They needed Peter. Caspian started to lower his eyes and try to disappear into the background, but he knew he couldn't. Morale was bad enough right now, the last thing they needed was for him to slink around like a whipped dog.

Hauling back on the reins, he stopped his mount in front of them, but the horse picked up on his nervous energy and danced around. "Narnians, you are needed," he said and released his reins. As if the stallion were loosed from a bow, he shot one of the tunnels in the cavern and the soldiers followed swiftly on their heels. Behind him the roof caved in as the Narnians tore down the supporting pillars. He prayed that it wouldn't catch up with him, and the prayer was answered. Just in front of him a ramp was being lowered by the swifter members of the army, and without a moment's hesitation the horse leaped atop it and galloped back into the sunlight and right into the thick of the battle.

The stallion's broad chest rammed into the first Telmarine soldier, knocking him down, and the mighty, shod hooves finished the job. The next one was too far to the side and Caspian leaned over, taking the man's head clean off with a swipe of his blade. Could this really only be his second time in true battle? There was no way. The motions came too naturally to him, and yet... the blades seemed to move in slow motion, giving him a perfect view of all the horrors of war. And Peter... would he end up like the High King? How many would die before the day ended? His stomach squeezed into a sour knot, but he thrust the feeling from his mind and thrust his blade through another man.

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Edmund grunted with the effort as he ran another adversary through. He had no time to think about his actions though, as another weapon swept toward him and he deftly avoided it. Suddenly he was pushed into the ground and the breath was knocked out of him. Struggling in the dirt and shredded grass, he managed to pull himself up high enough to see what had landed on him. His stomach lurched when he realized it was a faun who was far beyond hope. Swiftly, he rolled the poor creature off of him and regained his feet.

The battle seemed to be going fairly well, dispite his close encounters with their casualties. All around him Telmarines were being struck down. Perhaps they could win this fight after all. But no true victory could be achieved in his mind. This battle had cost too much. Feeling his eyes burn, he gave a shout and leaped forward, slaying an enemy officer who'd drawn too near.

Scanning the sea of faces, he sought out Miraz, but couldn't see him in the fray. He muttered a foul word at that, but just then he saw Caspian making his way through the remaining foes on foot, apparently having come off his horse at some point in the fighting. That was it then. They'd defeated the villain's lackeys.

"Edmund, King Edmund!" that familiar voice shouted through the den, he raised his dark eyes to the prince's face and waited impatiently as the other approached. "We have routed these few, but there are many more over the hill. We must retreat."

The young king stood there, glaring at the other youth for a long moment. "Peter wouldn't have retreated," he growled.

"High King Peter was no fool."

Edmund was just readying a retort when the first of the trebuchets launched and the ground sprayed out around the boulder's impact.

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"Time to go?" Caspian reiterated.

The younger boy frowned, but nodded in defeat. Caspian waited for a long moment, watching Edmund as he retreated toward the Howe silently, waiting for him to give the order. When it became apparent that such an action hadn't even crossed the boy's mind, Caspian turned and shouted the order, and ere long the whole army was surging toward the refuge.

As the prince neared the Howe, he was shocked to see that his kinsmen had already managed to target the improvised fortress and even now giant stones were raining down on the entrance. They were striking near enough that he worried over the safety of the soldiers stationed up there. Suddenly one came too close and smashed apart one of the ledges. A figure was hanging over the edge and he realized who it was at the same moment he heard Edmund's voice raise in a shout. Susan! He did not think King Edmund would be able to keep himself together should he suffer any more personal losses, but there was another source of worry within him that he refused to think of. So he stood there, a few yards away, hoping that something would save her. Obviously, the dwarf who was holding onto her could not do so for much longer.

He took a couple tentative steps forward, wondering if there was anything that he could do. Then she fell. As luck would have it, she managed to land on the ledge just a few feet lower. Giving a sigh, he started to run for the doorway again, but then another missile fell and the opening collapsed. Skidding to a halt, he searched the dust for Susan. Sure enough, she'd somehow managed to ride on top of the whole mess and was now coughing the dust out of her lungs.

Moving forward, he leaned down and offered her a hand up. She took it without acknowledging his existence. It hurt more than he'd expected. Slowly he turned around to see the numerous Narnian who were standing around, awaiting orders and beyond them, the Telmarines who were inexorably moving forward.

Catching sight of King Edmund not too far off, he walked over to the boy and looked at him questioningly, but the boy didn't respond. "King Edmund?" he asked quietly, hoping to get the young man's mind back on the battle, and specifically, on what they'd do next.

"Come, Ed, now's not the time," Susan added as she joined them.

"Has anyone found Miraz yet?" Edmund ground out.

Caspian looked over at Susan who returned his questioning gaze with a frosty look. "My uncle is leading the main army now," he answered.

"He's mine."

Once again, Caspian waited for the order from the king, but none came. Instead Edmund simply tightened his grip on Peter's sword, lowered his shoulder, and barreled into the enemy. Deciding that the king's actions were signal enough, Caspian followed him in, and together they led the army back into battle.