Rumours and stories had already come trickling and flying over the passes to Anvard, mostly through the Narnians who had once fled the Witch’s winter.
But still it was a surprise when a page came into breakfast with a letter of introduction from:
"Sir Renard and the raven Carrisol, Envoys of Their Majesties the Kings and Queens of Narnia."
King Lune raised his eyebrows at his wife. "Kings and queens? Whatever can they mean?"
"What sort of person is this Sir Renard?" Queen Celeste asked the page boy, still standing by the table.
"He is a fox, your majesty."
A fox he certainly was, when they met him in the throne room an hour later. Sleek and ruddy, keen eyes that surveyed the room, and a confident tilt to his head. The raven hopped beside him, as they both came forward and bowed.
"Your majesties," said the fox, "we come to you in Archenland as envoys sent from Narnia, from the High King Peter, the Queen Susan, the King Edmund, and the Queen Lucy."
"We come in peace and friendship," continued the raven, his croaking voice echoing in the high ceiling, "with hope for the renewal of old treaties, and the return of the goodwill that had long existed between our lands."
"So it is true then!" Queen Celeste leaned forward, her excitement drawing a smile from the king. "The Witch’s reign has ended and the winter is over?"
"Indeed, your majesty." Sir Renard smiled, white teeth gleaming. "Slain by Aslan Himself."
Just the name 'Aslan' caused a thrill to run through the room, and King Lune's heart beat quicker in his breast.
"It was He who called the Four from the Worlds Beyond, and crowned them Lords and Ladies of Cair Paravel, jewel above the eastern sea."
Carrisol hopped in place twice, excitement getting the better of him. "When Aslan bares His teeth, winter meets it's death! So it was written on the High King’s sword, and so it is! This, your majesties, is the age of restoration!"
"Astonishing," Queen Celeste murmured. "Can anyone here recall a time before the reign of the White Witch?"
"A hundred years, and the curse broken." King Lune shook his head in wonderment. He himself had only just reached 30, and his father had died not five years prior having seen less than 80 years. Lune had never visited Narnia, only heard the terrible stories from a handful of Narnian creatures who had escaped to join the Archen court.
"And so in peace and friendship we welcome you," he said aloud. "We will hear the whole story at luncheon, if you will take it with us."
"Certainly, your majesties." Both fox and raven bowed low.
"But briefly." Queen Celeste leaned forward, curiosity getting the better of her. "These kings and queens. There are four of them you said? How is this possible? Who are they? What are they like?"
A laugh from the fox, quickly stifled by a swift peck from the raven.
"Ah, pardon, your highness." Sir Renard regained his dignity with a quick shake of his body. "They are brothers and sisters, called from another world into this land to sit in the four thrones at Cair Paravel, and rule us by Aslan's decree."
"But what are they like?"
King Lune did not try to hide his own smile, but he too was eager for a clearer picture of these new monarchs.
Renard and Carrisol looked at one another for a moment, before the raven tilted his head.
"You have known them since the first days, Renard."
The fox sat back on his haunches, thoughtful. "They are young, your majesties. The eldest has seen but sixteen winters. They are not royalty in their own world, and have a lot to learn of rulership and courtly business. As do we all," he added, with a rueful grin. "So we learn together. And truly these half-grown cubs are... extraordinary.
"The High King Peter is a fierce protector, brave and quick to act. His heart is great, his sight is keen, and his sword is sharp. Even in these few months, he has loved us and our land with his sweat and his blood and his tears. He is one I would follow into the very fires of the Underworld."
"So would we all!" croaked Carrisol fervently.
"The Queen Susan, now," Renard went on. "Gentle Aslan called her, and gentle her hands can be. She is the motherly one, making sure all are heard and cared for, and very much the mistress of the castle. But she has no little skill with a bow, and does not hesitate to defend her family when her gentle words have failed."
He fell quiet then, eyes cast down for long enough to cause unease to creep into the room, but he raised his head as Queen Celeste drew in her breath to speak.
"His Majesty, King Edmund is wise beyond his years, swift to see that which is not shown, and hear that which is not said. His story is his own to tell, but I can say that though he followed after the Witch in the first days of their coming to Narnia, he learned the error of his way, and was restored by Aslan, showing great bravery in the Battle of Beruna against the Witch. He is his brother's beloved right hand, and shows mercy in ways I do not think I ever could. He too would I follow wherever he might ask."
There was something in the fox's tone that Celeste could not understand, something suggestive of far more than was said. But her heart squeezed with sympathy for a boy gone astray and brought back. She wondered who their parents were, and if they still lived in that other world.
"As for our Queen Lucy," and Renard's voice lightened, "why her laughter makes the trees dance. She is small, but strong in hope. She is like a light, and she brings healing wherever she goes. She cares for all, even the smallest, most forgotten creatures, and all love her in return."
"Indeed we do!" agreed Carrisol.
"They do sound extraordinary," said King Lune after a respectful pause. "We look forward to hearing more at the noon hour."
"Indeed, your majesties." Both bowed low again. "King Lune, Queen Celeste."
As they were escorted out of the audience chamber to rejoin their centaur escorts in the courtyard, the raven Carrisol was heard to remark, "Very nice, decent people they are."
And Sir Renard answered, "Indeed. I think the Four will be very glad to know them."
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