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Edmund and Caspian didn’t stop, not after the Dawn Treader.
Aslan had let Edmund stay, in a rather uncharacteristic way, Edmund thought. Lucy had gone back, unable to bear the thought of leaving their parents and older siblings behind. Eustace following, naturally.
Edmund supposed he wasn’t really worth sticking around for, really.
It didn’t matter. He was with Caspian, and they were kings, sailing across the high seas, ruling their glorious kingdom, adored by all.
And at night, Caspian came to him, eyes hungry, hands grasping.
Edmund felt like a god at the dawning of a new world.
Ever since the glittering cave, though, things had been ever so slightly different. Edmund wondered if Caspian had seen more than he should. Felt more than he should.
Caspian had a certain glint in his eye now that Edmund didn’t like.
“The sun and the moon, you and me,” he’d whisper into Edmund’s ear at night, holding him tight between his arms. Edmund loved when he was like this.
And then one night: “We’re perfect. Unstoppable. We took Telmar, didn’t we, no thanks to your brother.”
Edmund shifted over to look at Caspian. “What do you mean, no thanks to Peter?”
Caspian was breathing heavily, the moonlight reflecting off his eyes. “I only mean that all the credit goes to him, the High King, while you… you are the true genius, Edmund.” He squeezed Edmund’s hand. “I’ve been so lost without you, these last few years. But Aslan let you stay for a reason.”
“And what would that be?” Edmund laughed.
Something odd passed over Caspian’s face then. Just for a moment. “Well, I don’t know. But the things we could achieve. Two kings of Narnia. It’s hard to fathom.”
“Difficult indeed.” Edmund rolls over to straddle him. “Now, what could these two kings of Narnia get up to tonight?”
And he’d thought the subject dropped.
But they were in Cair Paravel when Edmund walked into the war room, by accident really, and found Caspian poring over a massive set of maps.
“Darling?” Caspian asked, not lifting his head. He made a mark on one of the maps with his pen.
“What are you working on?” Edmund craned his head to see.
“Just some strategies,” Caspian murmured. “Some thoughts I’ve been having.”
There were armies laid out upon the maps. Narnian armies.
Edmund gave a short laugh. “You can’t possibly be planning this?”
“Do you agree that Narnia is the greatest kingdom in this world?”
Edmund said nothing.
“Then why should we not spread our prosperity to our neighbors?” Caspian’s voice gained in volume.
“By conquering them?” Edmund asked.
“By saving them,” Caspian said grimly.
Edmund felt a horrible sense that things would never be the same. “Go to bed, Caspian.”
“What?” Caspian looked bemused.
“Go to bed,” Edmund repeated, gently this time. “I’ll be up soon. But please. Go.”
Caspian gave him a long, careful look, then gathered up his things and left.
Edmund let out a breath.
It’s alright, he told himself. Caspian’s alright. Just a bit overwhelmed. He wasn’t as used to ruling as Edmund and his siblings.
Caspian continued to frighten him, though. Edmund wasn’t sure when he’d gained such a callous edge to him. To Edmund himself, he was sweet and adoring. To those who crossed him, even slightly, he was brutal.
It all came to a head on the island of Avra. There were a few Telmarines, beggars who’d seemingly turned to thievery, who’d come up to Caspian and had dared to try to pickpocket him as they stepped off the ship.
It was the carved centaur they were after. The one Edmund had given Caspian on his last birthday. Caspian, with a hug and a quick kiss, had placed it in his pocket and to Edmund’s knowledge, had never parted with it since.
Caspian had both swords drawn before Edmund could even form a thought, pressing the thieves up against the wall of the nearest building.
The centaur clattered to the ground.
“You would dare rob your king?” Caspian asked through gritted teeth.
“No,” one stammered, in heavily accented Narnia. “Of course not.”
“Caspian,” Edmund warned. The other Telmarine said nothing, shaking in terror.
“Bow, filth,” Caspian said, kicking their knees out from behind them.
“Caspian,” Edmond shouted. “Let them go. You’ve taught them a lesson.”
“No,” Caspian murmured. “They’ve got to be punished.” He turned to look at Edmund, a crazed look in his eyes. “The Telmarines grow too bold.”
Caspian turned and, almost casually, lopped off one of the thieves’ hands.
Edmund would never forget the spurts of blood coming out of the stump, or the screams of pain coming from the Telmarine. He felt frozen in place, and cursed himself for being unable to do a thing to stop Caspian.
“Edmund, darling. Meet me on the ship later, would you? I’ve some business to attend to.” Caspian gave a contemptuous look at the thieves, still on the ground, and stalked off.
I’ve allowed far too much, Edmund thought with horror. I’ve been blinded by my love for him. I’ve been helping a monster.
Again.
He could truly never escape his fate, could he? Doomed to be a traitor. Doomed to throw his lot in with the wicked.
No more.
He took the Telmarine to the local doctor. It was the least he could do.
He’s harsher on the Telmarines, Edmund thought. So bloody insecure about his own heritage, he’ll do anything to punish them.
He found Caspian that night on the ship. Came into his cabin. Their cabin, really.
“Darling,” Caspian said warmly. “I’ve gotten us some lovely fish from one of the locals. You really must taste it.”
“We’ve got to talk, Caspian. I can’t stay silent any longer.” Edmund cautiously entered the room. His chair sat opposite Caspian’s. He didn’t sit down.
Caspian seemed to tense up a little. It might have been Edmund’s imagination. “About what?”
“You can’t tell me you haven’t changed. You’ve been crueler, lately,” Edmund implored. “Those men didn’t deserve that. Today. I can’t imagine what’s come over you.”
Caspian stood. Clasped his hands together. “Things are different than when you ruled with your brother and sisters, darling. The world is harsher. And I must maintain order over an increasingly more vicious Narnia. Can’t you see that?”
Shit. “So that’s your plan, then? Beat everyone into submission? Conquer every last city in this world, until you rule over all?”
“If I must.” Caspian sounded grim.
“You’ll stop at nothing?” Edmund felt himself grow more and more panicked. “You’re just going to turn into a tyrant? Torture your people?”
“If I must.”
“I will stop you, Caspian. I love Narnia more than I love you.” Edmund raised his sword.
Caspian looked directly into Edmund’s eyes and, with a flourish, rang the alarm bell. Above, footsteps clattered as crew men raced to defend their captain.
“You would raise your blade against me, my love?”
“Caspian,” Edmund begged. “Please don’t make me do this.” Please. Why must it be him, to face the love of his life?
Aslan had cursed him by letting him stay.
Caspian’s eyes bored into his. Those beautiful, beautiful eyes. So full of life. “I have no sword, Edmund. I cannot defend myself. But can you truly kill me?”
There was a pounding on the door behind Edmund. He heard wood splintering.
Why had he let Caspian bring this foreign crew, that did not know Edmund, that would not hesitate to kill him?
He was keenly aware of how alone he was.
The door continued to fall apart. They’d burst in soon. He had to do it now.
The light from the lamp danced over Caspian’s face and Edmund thought, unbidden, of Caspian in the library. When he’d stay up far too late reading, Edmund would walk in, kiss him gently on the neck, draw him towards bed.
Caspian continued to only look at him, unblinking. The blade faltered in Edmund’s hands.
The door burst open. And Edmund could not do it.
Caspian shouted at the crew and Edmund darted to the side, smashing a window to bits with the pommel of his sword.
And he jumped.
The cold hit him with a jolt, and he had to stop himself from crying out from the shock of it all.
The storm raged on, and Edmund was thrown to the side, away from the ship. Somehow, he could still hear Caspian shouting above.
The salt water rushed up his nose as another wave hit him and he choked, grasping blindly for the surface.
Aslan, please, he thought.
And Aslan did not come.
The crew would be looking for him. Caspian would not let a prisoner get away so easily.
Edmund let the rough sea carry him far, far away from the ship.
Eventually, a wooden door drifted past him. Edmund, exhausted and thirsty, flung himself toward it. Pulling himself on, he allowed himself to drift.
It took a day for him to reach land. Another day to find the nearest town.
This port didn’t belong to Narnia, nor any other kingdom. It brought traders from all over, which Edmund supposed was a good thing, given the current state of things.
Oh, Caspian.
He had his sword. A pouch full of gold. A newfound knowledge of what he needed to do.
He knew now why Aslan had let him stay. To kill Caspian.
But why did it have to be him? Why him, and not Lucy, or Peter, or Susan?
Perhaps this was some new way for Aslan to punish him for his traitorous ways.
Or maybe the rest of them wouldn’t have the guts to do it.
Edmund, slowly, gathered a crew. Narnians, still loyal to the old kings and queens, at least to some extent.
And he might have drawn on some anti-Telmarine sentiment to stir the fires against Caspian, but Edmund had never claimed to be an upstanding person. Not like his siblings.
Their mission was obvious.
“We’ve got to find Caspian.” Edmund said, then paused. “And we’ve got to kill him.”
Inside him, something shattered.
The crew whispered amongst themselves, the waves rocking their ramshackle little ship slowly from side to side. And eventually, they all began to nod.
“Right,” Edmund said. “We sail with the tide.”
They came close to destruction more than a few times. Narnian ships eventually caught on to the fact that a ramshackle sloop was picking off their navy, one by one. And the attacks became more and more targeted, with each Narnian ship seemingly receiving orders to hunt down the Judas .
Edmund wondered if he was being too on the nose with that name.
Caspian certainly knew by now that Edmund was alive. The name all but gave it away.
Good. He would know Edmund was coming for him.
The navy hunted them with a vengeance. Privateers jumped in as well, salivating at the reward for the old King Edmund.
The Judas held.
They made land on remote islands and neutral ports, never staying in one place too long. Caspian’s spies were everywhere.
Some joined, sympathetic to their cause. Many didn’t. It didn’t matter; they continued to prevail, even when Edmund thought he had reached the end of the line.
Caspian was clever, though. Edmund watched from the porthole in his cabin. It was night, and they had just routed a Narnia galleon, intent on blowing the ship to pieces.
Bet they wouldn’t try that again.
The swells gently washed over the window. It was silent.
And then a deafening scream pierced the air.
Edmund grabbed his sword and ran to the deck.
“There’s something in the water,” the watchman shouted from the crow’s nest. “I think they’re people!”
Edmund looked over the edge of the ship, hands gripping the rail.
Five women looked up at him, smiling.
“Help us, good sir!” One of them shouted up. “Oh, we’ve been saved!”
Edmund held out his hand to the side. “Lantern,” he said to the first mate, who’d come up next to him.
“Lantern, if you please. And some oil.”
“Shouldn’t we be getting a rope?”
Edmund leveled him a look reminiscent of his days in old Narnia. “Now.”
Wordlessly, the first mate went and got the lantern and a jar of oil, handing it to Edmund.
Edmund poured the oil off the side. The women started to yell and swim away, and Edmund threw the lantern down at them with all his might.
“What are you doing, man?” The first mate shouted. There were screams from down below.
So Caspian had recruited the mermaids. And not just regular mermaids.
“There are sirens in these waters, lads,” Edmund said, keeping a firm hand on his sword, not drawn yet. There was a murmur amongst the crew, who’d gathered behind them, with a few wolf whistles and a few winking eyes. The first mate finally seemed to understand, dawning horror on his face.
Edmund tamped down a surge of annoyance. “Beautiful women, yes. You’ll get to gaze adoringly into those sea green eyes while one of them strips the flesh from your bones and the other feasts on your brain matter.”
The chattering ceased.
Above, the moon stared down on them.
Was Caspian waiting on the other side?
Stop, Edmund.
The ship creaked on through the water. Nothing yet. They’d be back.
The crew was on edge all night and all day. Edmund wasn’t sure he had anything to comfort them with.
The mermaids returned at sunset.
Their songs bounded across the vast ocean, pinning men up against the rails, coaxing them down into the depths below. Edmund had fashioned them all earplugs, but the siren songs were more powerful than he’d realized.
Their sweet laughter echoed around the ship. The crew wandered around aimlessly, searching, searching. One of them grabbed Edmund’s sleeve.
“Please, Captain,” he said, his fingers turning white. “Take us to them.”
Edmund shook the man off and pulled out his sword.
He’d found it in the hold of a Narnian sloop they’d seized a few weeks back. Unobtrusive looking. The Narnians had probably had no idea what to do with it besides toss it down with the rest of their cargo. It certainly didn’t look like a relic from ancient Narnia.
But Edmund remembered.
The flames sprung to life along the sword, licking the harsh steel.
Down below, the mermaids swarmed. The crew gathered above. Soon, they’d be diving off the side of the Judas . Edmund had to act.
The sword had belonged to Peter, an age ago. A gift from the giants in the North, who had perfected the art of Greek fire, even if they did not call it by that name. The flame that danced upon the water .
He supposed the sword would really be called a flamethrower, if they were back in England, but they were not.
The flames shot out of Edmund’s sword, down into the water below. And the mermaids screamed.
The fire was relentless. Edmund looked down at the bodies and mourned
The crew murmured behind him.
The mermaids had been friends of Narnia, once. He’d swam with their mothers a lifetime ago.
He cursed Caspian.
The ship went on and on and on. During the day, the sun beat down on them all, as Edmund ordered his crew to fire upon any Narnian ship. At night, the moon merely watched, and the stars reflected off of the water, still and calm except for the ship cutting a neat path through.
It felt like a ghost ship, at times.
He told his crew not to kill if possible, to capture. These were Narnians, after all. His people. But people died.
His people.
Damn Caspian. For cursing him to this fate.
He saw their ghosts, sometimes. Sea sprites, his first mate sagely informed him. They rode along the wake of the ship. Silent. Punishing.
Who cared what they were called? They haunted him, with their ghastly faces.
He pretended not to notice them.
In a tavern, in some neutral port they took refuge in, Edmund heard the rumor.
“They’re saying, in Narnia, that the old King Edmund’s gone mad. Hungry for his ancient power, it seems. Doesn’t like the new king having it all to himself.” The man clearly enjoyed telling this story to the crowd gathered around him. “He’s turned into a pirate and a traitor, it seems. Plundering and pillaging and all that. They say he’s merciless. Cuts down anyone what stands in his way, with his great flaming sword.”
The crowd whispered in shocked voices. Edmund turned his face farther into his drink.
Caspian had gotten clever.
He’d always been so terribly clever, though. So intelligent. He loved to tease Edmund.
Stop, Edmund.
The kraken was next.
It had been startlingly easy to defeat the various members of Caspian’s fleet, one by one. Edmund wondered if perhaps it was Aslan’s doing. Or perhaps it was merely a sign of Caspian’s failure. He was a young king, after all, inexperienced.
He hadn’t commanded the high seas during the Golden Age of Narnia.
But the kraken nearly ended them.
Edmund had recognized Caspian’s ship as soon as it came into sight. Set their course right for it. They’d been so close when the sea had imploded around them.
A gigantic monster with terrible gnashing teeth bore down on them. Five men were dead before Edmund gave a single order.
Without Edmund’s fire, they would not have survived. As it was, the Judas just barely escaped and limped to port, the men discouraged and Edmund infuriated beyond belief.
“We’ve got to surprise him,” Edmund said to his crew. “That was the perfect chance to get Caspian, and we’ve missed it. We’re going to have to sneak up on them.”
It was surprisingly easy to find Caspian the second time. Edmund was drawn to him like a ship to port.
They spotted the Dawn Treader off the coast of Calormen. Edmund took them to shore.
They couldn’t bring the Judas with them for this. They waited for night.
“Why are they here?” The first mate whispered. “They’re anchored. What are they waiting for?”
Edmund wondered, but he did not know, so he said nothing.
He took a skeleton crew with him, once it had gotten into the early hours of the morning. They rowed up, the silence around them cloying.
They’d gotten almost halfway up the side of the ship once the alarm sounded.
The men shouted above and Edmund let out a roar, swinging over the rail and onto the deck. His men followed.
They were outnumbered, yes, but Edmund’s men were strong. Edmund let the fire rage from his sword and onto the deck, burning up the wood.
He had to scare them somehow.
Where was Caspian?
Edmund slid his sword between a man’s ribs. Felt his breathing stop.
There was a figure above, up on the mast.
It was him.
Edmund climbed the rigging. The fighting raged on below.
Caspian was waiting, leaning up against the crow’s nest. They were startlingly high up.
“I thought we might be able to talk a little better up here,” Caspian said with a smile.
Edmund fought hard to prevent a shudder. This was worse than he imagined.
Caspian was just as beautiful as he remembered. That same arrogant, lovely tilt to his chin.
“I am terribly sorry, darling, for these horrible rumors I’ve had to spread about you. Painting you as some nasty pirate. But it’s really not all that far from the truth, is it, and it’s served my purpose quite well.”
“People have been calling me a traitor. Again.” Edmund felt like he was in a dream.
Caspian looked truly remorseful. “I know, Edmund. And I’m so sorry for that.” He reached for Edmund. “I know how you feel about-”
Edmund jerked away.
“You cannot.”
Caspian looked so pained. Edmund yearned for what once was.
“You need only to ask, and we could join together, Edmund. Be just as we were, no questions asked. The sun and the moon, together once again. You won’t be alone anymore.” Caspian held his hand out. Edmund took a step back.
“Never.”
“After you jumped, I threw all the wood off of the ship. Anything that could float. I could not bear the thought of you alone out there, at the mercy of the sea. I hoped you might find something to hold on to, to bring you to shore after we could not find you.”
“Regret that now, do you?” Edmund lifted his sword. He couldn’t bear to light the flame on it, so it was merely a harsh steel, reflecting the fires from below.
“Never.” Caspian’s eyes were bright. “I would do it again in a heartbeat.”
Edmund’s heart thumped in his chest. He tried to focus on a spot right above Caspian’s head. Anything to avoid looking into those eyes.
“If you ever loved me, you’d stop this. Abdicate the throne. I will let you live, Caspian.” Edmund pleaded. “Please. Just stop this now.”
Caspian had still not lifted his sword. He only looked at Edmund.
Edmund tried again. “You said you’d do anything for me, once.”
“Anything, my love. But not this.”
The tempest in Edmund’s stomach raged. “You know this is not Narnia that you are protecting. This was never what Narnia was supposed to be. You were entrusted with her safety, and you have driven us all into destruction.”
Caspian bristled. “Where is Aslan, then? The great protector?” He shouted.
“I don’t know, Caspian, and frankly, I don’t care. I don’t need an all-knowing lion to tell me that what you are doing is wrong.”
Finally, Caspian was angry. “Fight me then, Ed! If you’re so devoted to the old Narnia!” He waved his sword in the air.
Finally.
Edmund lunged at Caspian. Caspian must not have been really expecting it. Edmund slashed at his side, and felt the blade connect with flesh.
The flesh he’d once treasured above all else.
He pushed Caspian into the mast, blade at his throat. Edmund pressed the sword against Caspian’s throat. Watched the rivulets of blood flow down his neck.
Caspian wasn’t even looking down at the sword. He looked only into Edmund’s eyes.
Damn it. Edmund’s arm would not move. Could not move.
He took a step back.
How arrogant of him, to think himself strong enough to slit Caspian’s throat. As if he could ever do something so ruthless to someone he loved.
The fire raged on below them.
“The sun and the moon,” Caspian said. He was panting, clutching his side, trying to staunch the bleeding. “We can still be together, Edmund. Please, darling.”
How easy it would be to say yes. And how devastating.
Edmundd had made that mistake before, though, and he knew a little better.
Edmund reached out and took Caspian’s hand.
“You’ll stop this madness then, Edmund? You’ll join me?” Caspian looked joyous.
Edmund squeezed tight onto Caspian’s hand and then nodded. Caspian laughed and pulled him into a kiss.
And Edmund pushed off of the mast and let them fall, together into the fire.