Chapter 3: The Table

The next morning, they started off again towards the Ford of Beruna. When Amy asked why they did not have breakfast, her aunts and uncles told her that the people they were going to see would insist upon their eating breakfast with them, and so there would be no point in eating beforehand. As they traveled, they noticed that young Mr. Starling was following them again. Once more he attempted conversation with Amy, but this time she wasn’t as eager to please him. Finally, after a quarter of an hour of listening to the nuisance, Uncle Edmund politely, but firmly, asked him to leave. With a stiff bow, the bird left with a look that might have made you cry. However, Uncle Edmund assured Amy that the Starling’s look was no more sincere than crocodile tears.

The wood was beautiful that morning. The trees were gently swaying in the breeze and speaking to one another. The birds were joyfully singing, and all the woodland creatures were coming out to have their breakfasts. At last the party arrived at a bear cave where Uncle Peter called out. A sleepy brown bear bumbled out with a yawn. He began sucking his paw as Uncle Peter introduced Esterami to him.

“Good morning, very nice to meet you,” the bear said in a deep, slow voice. “Would you like some honey?”

“Yes, thank you very much,” replied Amy.

The bear went into the cave still sucking his paw, and brought back an entire beehive that had been emptied of its original owners. Behind him came two of his friends in the same slow manner. Amy, not knowing how she was supposed to eat the honey looked to Uncle Peter. He made a motion that told her that she was to simply stick her hand into the hive and lick the honey. This was a rather sticky process, and she had a little trouble getting her hand out. However, the honey was refreshingly sweet, which made up for the trouble of getting to it.

On the party went to where there were several oaks and a variety of nut trees. Aunt Lucy made a trilling sound, and a red squirrel appeared.

“Good morning, your majesties!” said the squirrel. “Wow, it’s a nice day. Whither do you go? Is that the new princess? What’s her name again? How old are you, princess? Wow, it really is a beautiful morning.”

“Slow down, Perky,” said Aunt Lucy with a laugh. “We’re on our way to the Ford of Beruna, the lass’s name is Esterami, and she’s… fifteen years of age?”

“Yes, that’s right,” said Esterami in answer to her aunt’s uncertainty.

“Nice to meet you! Would you like some nuts?”

“Yes, thank you,” said the party.

Perky came back with several different nuts and offered them to each member of the royal party, and each expressed their gratitude. Suddenly, several small animals called to Perky saying that they wanted a story during breakfast. “All right, all right, I’ll be there in a moment. I’m only bidding their majesties good morning.” The host of little animals came bounding out to join Miss Perky. After saying “Hello,” and “Good morning,” to all the little creatures, the party left. After all this, Amy got the feeling that she would see Perky a lot more in the days to come.

On they went only a little further to where there were several gray squirrels. Again, Aunt Lucy trilled, and a young squirrel came scampering towards them. She was introduced to Amy as Song. It was explained to Amy that amongst squirrels, the name Song was like the name Melody amongst humans.

“She’s a little different from the rest of the squirrels, because she used to live in Calormen,” whispered Aunt Lucy.

“Calormen! I didn’t know they had squirrels there,” exclaimed Amy.

“A small group of them ended up there during the White Witch’s reign. Song’s family stayed for three generations.”

This was something that had never been mentioned in the books about Narnia, and so Amy was surprised. A little timidly, she asked Song, “What convinced you to come back to Narnia?”

In reply, Song said, “I had always had a yearning to come back, but it had simply been too dangerous. I now wish that I had come back before things got better so that I could have helped their majesties in dethroning that evil, sadistic, daughter of a dumb pig. Sorry. Anyway, I came back a few years ago, and BOY is it great here.”

They spoke with Song a few more moments, and then continued on their way. After a few more miles, they came to Dancing Lawn, which was empty during the day, but lively at night. However, the stop was short, for there was much more to see.

The party left the woods and began to cross a field. Up ahead, Amy could see a steep hill, and so she asked what it was. The only answer she received was “You will see.” They kept going along on their horses for an hour or so. Finally, Uncle Peter gave a signal to stop.

“Leave the horses here, they’d best be left to rest,” he commanded.

The five walked until they came to where there were several centaurs standing about talking to one another. The majestic creatures turned their attention to the approaching party and bowed.

“Hail King Peter! Hail Queen Susan! Hail King Edmund! Hail Queen Lucy! And hail Princess Esterami!” cried an older centaur. “Greetings to your majesties. May your days be long and your reign prosperous.”

“Greetings to you, Oreus, gazer of the heavens. May your days be long and plentiful,” responded Uncle Peter.

The meeting with the centaurs was short and serious, but still had a happiness within the seriousness. The centaurs had a benevolent, mysterious air to them, and it made Amy sit in wonder. They had wisdom beyond what she’d ever known, and counsel of the deepest of thoughts. They said a blessing over Amy, and the five went their way.

The party joined back with the horses, and made their way towards the curious hill. The closer they came to it, the more Amy felt that there was something special, almost holy about it. Finally, they dismounted and began the climb up the hill. Once at the top, Amy knew exactly where they were. There in front of them was a gray table, split in two down the center, with ancient writing all round the edges, and frayed pieces of rope scattered on and about it. It was the Stone Table.

No one said a word. It was one of those places that seemed to ask you to be silent. If you’ve ever been to an old cathedral, it was like that, only ten times the feeling. Amy kept her eyes on the Table and took tiny steps toward it on tiptoe. She was unsure as to whether or not there was a “too close”, but kept a few paces away from it just to be safe. She looked over at her aunts and uncles. Uncle Peter had a noble, reverent, and sad look. Both aunts looked as if they would cry soon, Aunt Susan closest. Uncle Edmund was different, though. He looked as though he were humbled, but dazed, as if having an unpleasant flashback. Amy went over to him with concern.

Suddenly, breaking her thoughts, she realized that none of them knew that she knew what this place was and what had happened there. She touched Uncle Edmund on the arm and whispered, “I know. I understand how you feel.”

“Sorry?” he replied.

“What He did here. Aslan, I mean. It’s hard to take the thought in a place like this.” Does he even know what I’m talking about? She wondered.

Looking her in the eye, Uncle Edmund very quietly and slowly said, “Yes. It’s hard… to think about… every time… we come… here.” Amy gently pulled him towards her and hugged him in an effort to comfort him. He was shaking. Of all of the things that happened to Amy, no matter what adventures, trials, or victories she lived through, that moment always remained vivid in her memory.

At seeing Uncle Edmund’s state, both aunts began to cry. Uncle Peter lowered his head and said nothing. Amy tried hard to simply comfort Uncle Edmund in silence, but she could no longer hold in her tears. She wept with her new family for what Aslan had done. Noticing that Uncle Peter wasn’t nearly in the state that the rest were in remembered the quote, “He who has been forgiven little loves little.” He doesn’t know what it’s like to see a thing like that, nor to be forgiven so greatly, she thought. Yes, Uncle Peter had been faithful all along, caring for his people and family, and for that everyone was very grateful. However, he could never be as impacted by Aslan’s deed as Uncle Edmund. But neither can I, she thought.

Then they left the place in silence, and made their way back to Cair Paravel. It had been a day of joy and weeping.