"A boy in the street made a beastly joke about Queen Susan—" said Prince Corin, taking a sip from the water Mr. Tumnus had brought him "—so I knocked him down. He ran howling into a house and his big brother came out. So I knocked the big brother down. Then they all followed me until we ran into three old men with spears who are called the Watch. So I fought with the Watch and they knocked me down. It was getting dark by now. Then the Watch took me along to lock me up somewhere. So I asked them if they'd like a stoup of wine and they said they didn't mind if they did. Then I took them to a wine shop and got them some and they all sat down and drank till they fell asleep. I thought it was time for me to be off so I came out quietly and then I found the first boy — the one who had started all the trouble — still hanging about. So I knocked him down again. After that, I climbed up a pipe onto the roof of a house and lay quiet till it began to get light this morning. Ever since that I've been finding my way back. Imagine my surprise when I entered through the window I find your majesty has mistaken another boy for me. I tried to get him to stay, but he was in such a hurry. He said he was a Narnian that had been brought up here and was escaping north with a talking horse, so I let him be and told him how to get out. Hey, he mentioned something about leaving, what's that about?" 

Edmund didn't know what to say. That boy he had caught in the street looked exactly like Corin, there was no doubt in his mind the boy was identical to the prince. He was his twin. Ha! His twin, for Aslan's mane, he had found Prince Corin's twin! He had found the long-lost prince! And now he had lost him. 

Edmund went to look out the window, but there was no trace of the boy. 

Oh, bother. Well, at least the boy was alive and making his way north. Once they were out of this wretched city, he'd inform King Lune and everyone would be on the look-out. Oh, the poor boy, being brought up in Calormen all these years. 

Edmund and Susan exchanged glances, both thinking the same: we had found prince Cor! 

"Yes, we're leaving Calormen. Go get yourself cleaned up and pack your things," 

"That's not fair," Will grumbled. "He wasn't upset with you in the slightest," 

Corin smiled cheekily. "I take it King Edmund was upset with you?" 

"You think? We won't be allowed to do anything fun until our parents return," Edward complained. 

Corin laughed. "Even when I lose, I win," 

"So you didn't do it then?" 

"Didn't you hear what I said? I got in a fight, I didn't have time to go to the stupid market," 

"Then we won," Will declared. 

"Did you really? Did you?" Corin walked away with a smirk. 

"Edmund, that was—" Susan hesitated, "—that was Cor," she whispered. "I have no doubt about it," 

"Me neither," Edmund said solemnly and then sighed. 

"Oh, and we let him go," he ran a hand through his hair. 

"We couldn't have known, we... we all thought he was dead," she whispered again. 

Edmund shook his head, still wrapping his head around what they had just found out. "He was alive, all these years, alive in Calormen. Who would have thought?" 

"I thought you all said he had drowned," 

"Lost at sea," Edmund said. "He must have washed up on shore down here somehow. Unbelievable," 

"What do we do now? Do we go searching for him?" 

"There is no time, Su. We need to leave. We'll keep an eye open when we go to the market, but there is much to be done if we are to make it out of this city as planned. There is much at stake here and, out of all of us, he is the safest,"  

Susan nodded. Everyone in the house would be killed if they didn't escape and right then Cor was not in the house and therefore he was safe. "I wish he would have told us the truth, we would have helped him," 

"Yes, I wish he had told us too. It would have made everything simpler, but alas he did not. The important thing is that he is also making his way north and, since he heard what Sallowpad said, he now knows how to get there. I have no doubt he will be later found. He has lived here for over a decade, he'll be alright. My concern right now is getting us all out of this blessed city. We'll find Cor later, you'll see. These things have a way of sorting themselves out," 

"We have to fight," Peter said solemnly and stood up.

Imira followed him to the outdoors tent where meetings were held. Guards followed them and stopped outside the tent to take their post. Torches were lit but they weren't enough, so Peter lighted a lantern and placed it on the wooden tabled that occupied the central spot of the tent. A detailed map of the north laid on it, theirs and their enemy's location marked by flags.

"This," Peter pointed to the area south of where the Shribble and the marsh met, on the southern riverbank, not too deep into the woods, " is us, and they," he pointed to the spot north of the second tributary of the Shribble on the north side of the marsh "are here."

Imira took a deep breath. "They're close," she chuckled nervously, an involuntary reaction. 

"They are," Peter agreed. "But they can't get to us without first crossing the Shribble, and if they try to the trees will warn us, the river spirits will slow them down, and the catapults and ballistae I've position on our side of the river will give them a fight. We're safe here." Peter reassured, giving Imira some peace of mind. 

"For now, at least" he added, staring at the map and looking for a flaw in his plan. 

"And what if they try to come for us through the marsh?" Imira asked. 

Peter shook his head. "Unlikely. The marsh is too much of an obstacle for them. And in any case, I've spoken to the marsh goddess. If they try crossing these parts of the marsh," he pointed in the map those parts closest to the river, "they'll encounter resistance and, again, the trees will warn us. Giants can't swim, so defeating them in the water shouldn't be too difficult for a water deity," 

"So we'll fight them on our side of the river then?" Imira asked.

"Not entirely. The grasslands over here," Peter pointed in his map, "the ones furthest from the water, it hasn't rained in months, they're dry," he looked up to meet her eyes.

She understood immediately. "You want to burn them," A small smile pulled at the corner of her lips. 

He nodded. "I want to get them between the dry grasslands and the waterline and set this field aflame,"

"Leaving them with no choice but to press forward," 

"Straight into the hands of the water gods and into the range of our archers and catapults," Peter finished. "I had them moved there when we set up our camp for defensive purposes," he explained. She nodded. 

Imira examined the map some more. One giant matches ten Narnians in battle. They appeared to be evenly matched. "There's too many of them for the water gods to handle at once," Imira said, "but if we have spikes underwater..."

"In the river?" Peter asked.

"In the marsh," She pointed to it on the map.

Peter saw it now. "Yes, in the marsh. And when they try to save themselves by going into the water—"

"—they'll either fall onto them or be drowned," she finished.

"Yes. That will work." Peter agreed. "Assuming they make the first move, of course," he added. "If they know about our parlay offers, they might expect us to go to them."

Imira looked down at the field on the map. "Which would give them the upper hand. We can't face them on that field, the odds are not good," she shook her head disapprovingly to the thought. 

"That's agreed," Peter concurred. "What we need is for them to come to us," He looked back at the map, thinking.

"The likeliest scenario," Imira commented.

"Still, I'd rather not leave things to chance." He walked around to the other side of the table and then, after a minute of thought, looked up at Imira. "We could go to them,"

She stared at him. "And meet them on the very field we just agreed it would be unwise to meet them?" 

"Just a small group," Peter elaborated. "Catch their attention, pick a fight, purposely loose and have them chase us back to where we want them," he touched the spot on the map. 

"You want to provoke them," She ran a hand through her hair. "I don't know, Peter. They'll suspect a group too small. If it doesn't pose a threat their entire force won't bother chasing after it,"

"Which is why I'd be taking the forces I've been leading along with Firestream to meet them,"

"That's one-third of our army. You'd be taking a huge risk," Imira pointed out.

"But they won't expect us to have reinforcements. They'll think they've won and chase after us to finish us off. They won't suspect of the river and the marsh and they won't suspect two-thirds of our army will be waiting for them on the other side of the Shribble with our war machines,"

True, Imira thought, it could work if we act quickly and— but we missed something. "They'll suspect if they see Firestream circling back. They'll be watching him closely, he'd give us away. And if he doesn't go, they'll suspect,"

"Which is why we will have archers sneak up on boats through the marsh." He drew his finger along the path he had in mind. "Once we've got them after us they can disembark and set the field on fire. The Ettins won't suspect a thing. 

"Once we get here, we will cross the river on boats. The marshwiggles and dwarves left many when they evacuated, we'll have the marsh goddess shift the currents to bring them here and use them to cross the river. The catapults on this side and the ballistae will be waiting, along with the archers. The trees and our troops should be able to handle those who cross the waters," Peter concluded.

"We'll have to move the catapults and ballistae I brought with me then," Imira said.

"First order of the morning,"

Imira nodded. "If they attack us, defence. If they don't..."

"An offensive defence," Peter said. 

Imira nodded. A solid plan, that's what it looked like to her. 

"Brilliant How long should we wait before making the first move?" she asked. They couldn't just sit around in uncertainty.

"Making those spikes is going to take time," he reminded her. "They are not indispensable for our defence, but a nice addition nonetheless," He didn't necessarily want to say they were pointless, partially because he was sure she'd make a silly pun, but also because he didn't want to shut down her suggestion. She was too pleased about having come up with that. 

"We have large numbers, it can't take that long," she said. 

"Depending on how many we want, between cutting down the trees, making them, moving them, setting them up... I reckon at the very least a week,"

A week of anxiously wondering if they will make the first move, Imira thought.

"When did you say the last battle you fought was?" Imira asked.

"Yesterday," he answered. 

"Then they'll expect us to lay low for a few days," Imira pointed out.

Peter nodded. "They'll either use that as an opportunity for a sneak attack or they'll wait until we extend a parlay. The bottom line is: we simply do not know what they will do. But whatever happens, we have a strong defence and we have a good plan. We'll try to wait until the traps are built, if the fight happens before the spikes are finished then we'll just use the wood for the pyres to burn the Ettins afterwards," Peter said, referring to the Ettin corpses of course. "We can't wait long for this next battle," he said, hoping it would be their last battle before returning to Cair. 

He was thinking about her question, she could see it in the way he examined the map, his eyes moving from place to place, in the way his lips pursed, in the frown causing a small wrinkle to appear between his brows. She gave him time to think. 

"One week," he nodded, looking at the map one last time before meeting her eyes. "One week and if they haven't made a move," he hesitated, "we attack."