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ASLAN'S HOW appears through the trees like a beautiful instrument of salvation. Even from across the wide, grassy plains of Beruna the towering monument is a sight to behold: its pyramidal structure seeming to have risen straight from the earth it rests upon; the enormous slabs of smartly placed grey stone allowing the expanse of surrounding wood to find purchase in its seams and crevasses, creating a blanket of green that covers the faces of the outer walls. No matter how many times I've laid eyes on it, I still have to stop and wonder for a moment.
Queen Lucy gasps in delight and rushes to the front of the group for a better view. "Is this it?"
Nausus chuckles at her excitement. "Sure is, your majesty."
She turns around, grinning widely at the faun and ushering her siblings to hurry along. Caspian takes notice of her eagerness and resumes the final leg of our journey, the Pevensies falling into step next to him, leading the troops free of the woods and across the plains. I keep a few paces back with Glenstorm and the others, and Edmund notices immediately when I'm no longer at his side, glancing over his shoulder in a quick search. I try to convey to him through my eyes and my reassuring smile that my place is here: with Trumpkin, Nikabrik, Glenstorm, and his son, not with Narnian royalty. Though having ruled as a king for fifteen years, Edmund is well aware of why I've stayed back; he simply feels strange to be without my usual presence.
I catch a flash of movement on the forward wall of the structure — one of the lookouts. A moment later, a horn sounds; travelling across the plains to greet us and announce the return of the war party to the inhabitants of the How. I'm anxious to reach it and see for myself the operations behind its walls. By word of the wolf brothers, Caspian has organized an admirable workshop of forges, which the Narnians are using to smith weapons and armour while others rotate shifts on watch, scout the surrounding forest, provide basic combat lessons to the less-experienced, and rest up within the safety of the extensive, underground tunnels. There is also, apparently, a small spring located behind the How that I must visit immediately. Bastard wolves.
By the time the party reaches the ruins of the lists, twenty centaurs have gathered at the entrance of Aslan's How, arranged regally on either side of the ramp leading down into the earth. I recognize most of them and it's been so long since I've seen everyone that I have to remind myself to keep my mouth shut, not wanting to risk distracting them from their formal welcoming rite.
The Pevensies and Caspian slow to a stop when the centaurs simultaneously draw their heavy broadswords, grasping the wicked blades before them with the points held upward, metal glinting in the sunlight. Then, one by one, they tip their weapons forward at an angle to form a sort of arch over the stone path, honouring the return of their beloved rulers.
As one, the Old King and Queens of Narnia step forward, gliding gracefully under the swords pledged to defend them and their land. Caspian bows his head and allows them to draw ahead — lead the returning Narnians across the threshold of the How. I remain where I am beside Glenstorm, trailing after Caspian when he follows in Pevensies' footsteps at a respectable distance. I watch with a smile as Shadowstar reaches out to guide his son's sword higher so Lucy can pass beneath it.
