But I’ll accept it.
Do you hear, accept it!
I’ll not be shamed because some witchcraft or treason has frozen both your bloods.”
“We beseech your Majesty—” said Glozelle, but Miraz had flung out of the tent and they could hear him bawling out his acceptance to Edmund.
The two lords looked at one another and chuckled quietly.
“I knew he’d do it if he were properly chafed,” said Glozelle. “But I’ll not forget he called me coward.
It shall be paid for.”
There was a great stirring at Aslan’s How when the news came back and was communicated to the various creatures.
Edmund, with one of Miraz’s captains, had already marked out the place for the combat, and ropes and stakes had been put round it.
Two Telmarines were to stand at two of the corners, and one in the middle of one side, as marshals of the lists.
Three marshals for the other two corners and the other side were to be furnished by the High King.
Peter was just explaining to Caspian that he could not be one, because his right to the throne was what they were fighting about, when suddenly a thick, sleepy voice said,
“Your Majesty, please.”
Peter turned and there stood the eldest of the Bulgy Bears.
“If you please, your Majesty,” he said, “I’m a bear, I am.”
“To be sure, so you are, and a good bear too, I don’t doubt,” said Peter.
“Yes,” said the Bear. “But it was always a right of the, bears to supply one marshal of the lists.”
“Don’t let him,” whispered Trumpkin to Peter. “He’s a good creature, but he’ll shame us all.
He’ll go to sleep and he will suck his paws. In front of the enemy too.”
“I can’t help that,” said Peter. “Because he’s quite right.
The Bears had that privilege.
I can’t imagine how it has been remembered all these years, when so many other things have been forgotten.”
“Please, your Majesty,” said the Bear.
“It is your right,” said Peter. “And you shall be one of the marshals. But you must remember not to suck your paws.”
“Of course not,” said the Bear in a very shocked voice.
“Why, you’re doing it this minute!” bellowed Trumpkin.
The Bear whipped his paw out of his mouth and pretended he hadn’t heard.
“Sire!” came a shrill voice from near the ground.
“Ah—Reepicheep!” said Peter after looking up and down and round as people usually did when addressed by the Mouse.
“Sire,” said Reepicheep. “My life is ever at your command, but my honour is my own.
Sire, I have among my people the only trumpeter in your Majesty’s army.
I had thought, perhaps, we might have been sent with the challenge.
Sire, my people are grieved.
Perhaps if it were your pleasure that I should be a marshal of the lists, it would content them.”
A noise not unlike thunder broke out from somewhere overhead at this point, as Giant Wimbleweather burst into one of those not very intelligent laughs to which the nicer sorts of Giant are so liable.
He checked himself at once and looked as grave as a turnip by the time Reepicheep discovered where the noise came from.
“I am afraid it would not do,” said Peter very gravely. “Some humans are afraid of mice—“
“I had observed it, Sire,” said Reepicheep.
“And it would not be quite fair to Miraz,” Peter continued, “to have in sight anything that might abate the edge of his courage.”
“Your Majesty is the mirror of honour,” said the Mouse with one of his admirable bows. “And on this matter we have but a single mind… I thought I heard someone laughing just now.
If anyone present wishes to make me the subject of his wit, I am very much at his service—with my sword—whenever he has leisure.”
An awful silence followed this remark, which was broken by Peter saying,
“Giant Wimbleweather and the Bear and the Centaur Glenstorm shall be our marshals.
The combat will be at two hours after noon.
Dinner at noon precisely.”
“I say,” said Edmund as they walked away, “I suppose it is all right.
I mean, I suppose you can beat him?”
“That’s what I’m fighting him to find out,” said Peter.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN. HOW ALL WERE VERY BUSY
A LITTLE before two o’clock Trumpkin and the Badger sat with the rest of the creatures at the wood’s edge looking across at the gleaming line of Miraz’s army which was about two arrow-shots away.