Prince Corin
科林王子
“My dear sister and very good Lady，” said King Edmund， “you must now show your courage. For I tell you plainly we are in no small danger.”
“What is it， Edmund？” asked the Queen.
“It is this， “ said Edmund. “I do not think we shall find it easy to leave Tashbaan. While the Prince had hope that you would take him， we were honoured guests. But by the Lion‘s Mane， I think that as soon as he has your flat denial we shall be no better than prisoners. “One of the Dwarfs gave a low whistle.
“I warned your Majesties， I warned you，” said Sallowpad the Raven. “Easily in but not easily out， as the lobster said in the lobster pot！”
“I have been with the Prince this morning，” continued Edmund. “He is little used （more’s the pity） to having his will crossed. And he is very chafed at your long delays and doubtful answers. This morning he pressed very hard to know your mind. I put it aside-meaning at the same time to diminish his hopes-with some light common jests about women‘s fancies， and hinted that his suit was likely to be cold. He grew angry and dangerous. There was a sort of threatening， though still veiled under a show of courtesy， in every word he spoke.”
“Yes，” said Tumnus. “And when I supped with the Grand Vizier lastnight， it was the same. He asked me how I like Tashbaan. And I （for I could not tell him I hated every stone of it and I would not lie） told him that now， when high summer was coming on， my heart turned to the cool woods and dewy slopes of Narnia. He gave a smile that meant no good and said， ’There is nothing to hinder you from dancing there again， little goatfoot， always provided you leave us in exchange a bride for our prince.“Do you mean he would make me his wife by force？” exclaimed Susan.
“That’s my fear， Susan，” said Edmund： “Wife： or slave which is worse.”
“But how can he？ Does the Tisroc think our brother the High King would suffer such an outrage？”
“Sire，” said Peridan to the King. “They would not be so mad. Do they think there are no swords and spears in Narnia？”
“Alas，” said Edmund. “My guess is that the Tisroc has very small fear of Narnia. We are a little land. And little lands on the borders of a great empire were always hateful to the lords of the great empire. He longs to blot them out， gobble them up. When first he suffered the Prince to come to Cair Paravel as your lover， sister， it may be that he was only seeking an occasion against us. Most likely he hopes to make one mouthful of Narnia and Archenland both.”
“Let him try，” said the second Dwarf. “At sea we are as big as he is. And if he assaults us by land， he has the desert to cross.”
“True， friend，” said Edmund. “But is the desert a sure defence？ What does Sallowpad say？”
“I know that desert well，” said the Raven. “For I have flown above it far and wide in my younger days，” （you may be sure that Shasta pricked up his ears at this point）. “And this is certain； that if the Tisroc goes by the great oasis he can never lead a great army across it into Archenland. For though they could reach the oasis by the end of their first day‘s march， yet the springs there would be too little for the thirst of all those soldiers and their beasts. But there is another way.”
Shasta listened more attentively still.
“He that would find that way，” said the Raven， “must start from the Tombs of the Ancient Kings and ride northwest so that the double peak of Mount Pire is always straight ahead of him. And so， in a day’s riding or a little more， he shall come to the head of a stony valley， which is so narrow that a man might be within a furlong of it a thousand times and never know that it was there. And looking down this valley he will see neither grass nor water nor anything else good. But if he rides on down it he will come to a river and can ride by the water all the way into Archenland.”
“And do the Calormenes know of this Western way？” asked the Queen.
“Friends， friends，” said Edmund， “what is the use of all this discourse？ We are not asking whether Narnia or Calormen would win if war arose between them. We are asking how to save the honour of the Queen and our own lives out of this devilish city. For though my brother， Peter the High King， defeated the Tisroc a dozen times over， yet long before that day our throats would be cut and the Queen‘s grace would be the wife， or more likely， the slave， of this prince.”
“We have our weapons， King，” said the first Dwarf. “And this is a reasonably defensible house.”
“As to that，” said the King， “I do not doubt that every one of us would sell our lives dearly in the gate and they would not come at the Queen but over our dead bodies. Yet we should be merely rats fighting in a trap when all’s said.”
“Very true，” croaked the Raven. “These last stands in a house make good stories， but nothing ever came of them. After their first few repulses the enemy always set the house on fire.”
“I am the cause of all this，” said Susan， bursting into tears. “Oh， if only I had never left Cair Paravel. Our last happy day was before those ambassadors came from Calormen. The Moles were planting an orchard for us . . . oh . . . oh.” And she buried her face in her hands and sobbed.
“Courage， Su， courage，” said Edmund. “Remember-but what is the matter with you， Master Tumnus？” For the Faun was holding both hishorns with his hands as if he were trying to keep his head on by them and writhing to and fro as if he had a pain in his inside.
“Don‘t speak to me， don’t speak to me，” said Tumnus. “I‘m thinking. I’m thinking so that I can hardly breathe. Wait， wait， do wait.”
There was a moment‘s puzzled silence and then the Faun looked up， drew a long breath， mopped its forehead and said：
“The only difficulty is how to get down to our ship-with some stores， too-without being seen and stopped.”
“Yes，” said a Dwarf dryly. “Just as the beggar’s only difficulty about riding is that he has no horse.”
“Wait， wait，” said Mr Tumnus impatiently. “All we need is some pretext for going down to our ship today and taking stuff on board.”
“Yes，” said King Edmund doubtfully.
“Well， then，” said the Faun， “how would it be if your majesties bade the Prince to a great banquet to be held on board our own galleon， the Spendour Hyaline， tomorrow night？ And let the message be worded as graciously as the Queen can contrive without pledging her honour： so as to give the Prince a hope that she is weakening.”
“This is very good counsel， sire，” croaked the Raven.
