"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 last night, 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 his horns 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."