CHAPTER TWELVE SORCERY AND SUDDEN VENGEANCE
Meanwhile Trumpkin and the two boys arrived at the dark little stone archway which led into the inside of the Mound, and two sentinel badgers （the white patches on their cheeks were all Edmund could see of them） leaped up with bared teeth and asked them in snarling voices, “Who goes there?”
“Trumpkin,” said the Dwarf. “Bringing the High King of Narnia out of the far past.”
The badgers nosed at the boys’hands. “At last,” they said. “At last.”
“Give us a light, friends,” said Trumpkin.
The badgers found a torch just inside the arch and Peter lit it and handed it to Trumpkin. “The D. L. F. had better lead,” he said. “We don’t know our way about this place.”
Trumpkin took the torch and went ahead into the dark tunnel. It was a cold, black, musty place, with an occasional bat fluttering in the torchlight, and plenty of cobwebs. The boys, who had been mostly in the open air since that morning at the railway station, felt as if they were going into a trap or a prison.
“I say, Peter,” whispered Edmund. “Look at those carvings on the walls. Don’t they look old? And yet we’re older than that. When we were last here, they hadn’t been made.”
“Yes,” said Peter. “That makes one think.”
The Dwarf went on ahead and then turned to the right, and then to the left, and then down some steps, and then to the left again. Then at last they saw a light ahead—light from under a door. And now for the first time they heard voices, for they had come to the door of the central chamber. The voices inside were angry ones. Someone was talking so loudly that the approach of the boys and the Dwarf had not been heard.
“Don’t like the sound of that,” whispered Trumpkin to Peter. “Let’s listen for a moment.” All three stood perfectly still on the outside of the door.
“You know well enough,” said a voice（“That’s the King,” whispered Trumpkin）, “why the Horn was not blown at sunrise this morning. Have you forgotten that Miraz fell upon us almost before Trumpkin had gone, and we were fighting for our lives for the space of three hours and more? I blew it when first I had a breathing space.”
“I’m not likely to forget it,” came the angry voice, “when my Dwarfs bore the brunt of the attack and one in five of them fell.”（“That’s Nikabrik,” whispered Trumpkin.）
“For shame, Dwar f,” came a th ick voice（“Trufflehunter’s,” said Trumpkin）. “We all did as much as the Dwarfs and none more than the King.”
“Tell that tale your own way for all I care,” answered Nikabrik. “But whether it was that the Horn was blown too late, or whether there was no magic in it, no help has come. You, you great clerk, you master magician, you know-all； are you still asking us to hang our hopes on Aslan and King Peter and all the rest of it?”
“I must confess—I cannot deny it—that I am deeply disappointed in the result of the operation,” came the answer.（“That’ll be Doctor Cornelius,” said Trumpkin.）
“To speak plainly,” said Nikabrik, “your wallet’s empty, your eggs addled, your fish uncaught, your promises broken. Stand aside then and let others work. And that is why—”
“The help will come,” said Trufflehunter. “I stand by Aslan. Have patience, like us beasts. The help will come. It may be even now at the door.”
“Pah！” snarled Nikabrik. “You badgers would have us wait till the sky falls and we can all catch larks. I tell you we can’t wait. Food is running short； we lose more than we can afford at every encounter； our followers are slipping away.”
“And why?” asked Trufflehunter. “I’ll tell you why. Because it is noised among them that we have called on the Kings of old and the Kings of old have not answered. The last words Trumpkin spoke before he went （and went, most likely, to his death） were,‘If you must blow the Horn, do not let the army know why you blow it or what you hope from it.’But that same evening everyone seemed to know.”
“You’d better have shoved your gray snout in a hornets’nest, Badger, than suggest that I am the blab,” said Nikabrik. “Take it back, or—”
“Oh, stop it, both of you,” said King Caspian. “I want to know what it is that Nikabrik keeps on hinting we should do. But before that, I want to know who those two strangers are whom he has brought into our council and who stand there with their ears open and their mouths shut.”
“They are friends of mine,” said Nikabrik. “And what better right have you yourself to be here than that you are a friend of Trumpkin’s and the Badger’s? And what right has that old dotard in the black gown to be here except that he is your friend? Why am I to be the only one who can’t bring in his friends?”
“His Majesty is the King to whom you have sworn allegiance,” said Trufflehunter sternly.
“Court manners, court manners,” sneered Nikabrik. “But in this hole we may talk plainly. You know—and he knows—that this Telmarine boy will be king of nowhere and nobody in a week unless we can help him out of the trap in which he sits.”
“Perhaps,” said Cornelius, “your new friends would like to speak for themselves? You there, who and what are you?”
“Worshipful Master Doctor,” came a thin, whining voice. “So please you, I’m only a poor old woman, I am, and very obliged to his Worshipful Dwarfship for his friendship, I’m sure. His Majesty, bless his handsome face, has no need to be afraid of an old woman that’s nearly doubled up with the rheumatics and hasn’t two sticks to put under her kettle. I have some poor little skill—not like yours, Master Doctor, of course—in small spells and cantrips that I’d be glad to use against our enemies if it was agreeable to all concerned. For I hate’em. Oh yes. No one hates better than me.”
“That is all most interesting and—er—satisfactory,” said Doctor Cornelius. “I think I now know what you are, Madam. Perhaps your other friend, Nikabrik, would give some account of himself?”
A dull, gray voice at which Peter’s flesh crept replied, “I’m hunger. I’m thirst. Where I bite, I hold till I die, and even after death they must cut out my mouthful from my enemy’s body and bury it with me. I can fast a hundred years and not die. I can lie a hundred nights on the ice and not freeze. I can drink a river of blood and not burst. Show me your enemies.”
“And it is in the presence of these two that you wish to disclose your plan?” said Caspian.
“Yes,” said Nikabrik. “And by their help that I mean to execute it.”
There was a minute or two during which Trumpkin and the boys could hear Caspian and his two friends speaking in low voices but could not make out what they were saying. Then Caspian spoke aloud.
“Well, Nikabrik,” he said, “we will hear your plan.”
There was a pause so long that the boys began to wonder if Nikabrik was ever going to begin； when he did, it was in a lower voice, as if he himself did not much like what he was say-ing.
“All said and done,” he muttered, “none of us knows the truth about the ancient days in Narnia. Trumpkin believed none of the stories. I was ready to put them to the trial. We tried first the Horn and it has failed. If there ever was a High King Peter and a Queen Susan and a King Edmund and a Queen Lucy, then either they have not heard us, or they cannot come, or they are our enemies—”
“Or they are on the way,” put in Trufflehunter.
“You can go on saying that till Miraz has fed us all to his dogs. As I was saying, we have tried one link in the chain of old legends, and it has done us no good. Well. But when your sword breaks, you draw your dagger. The stories tell of other powers beside the ancient Kings and Queens. How if we could call them up?”
“If you mean Aslan,” said Trufflehunter, “it’s all one calling on him and on the Kings. They were his servants. If he will not send them （but I make no doubt he will）, is he more likely to come himself?”
“No. You’re right there,” said Nikabrik. “Aslan and the Kings go together. Either Aslan is dead, or he is not on our side. Or else something stronger than himself keeps him back. And if he did come—how do we know he’d be our friend? He was not always a good friend to Dwarfs by all that’s told. Not even to all beasts. Ask the Wolves. And anyway, he was in Narnia only once that I ever heard of, and he didn’t stay long. You may drop Aslan out of the reckoning. I was thinking of someone else.”
There was no answer, and for a few minutes it was so still that Edmund could hear the wheezy and snuffling breath of the Badger.
“Who do you mean?” said Caspian at last.
“I mean a power so much greater than Aslan’s that it held Narnia spellbound for years and years, if the stories are true.”
“The White Witch！” cried three voices all at once, and from the noise Peter guessed that three people had leaped to their feet.
“Yes,” said Nikabrik very slowly and distinctly, “I mean the Witch. Sit down again. Don’t all take fright at a name as if you were children. We want power, and we want a power that will be on our side. As for power, do not the stories say that the Witch defeated Aslan, and bound him, and killed him on that very stone which is over there, just beyond the light?”
“But they also say that he came to life again,” said the Badger sharply.
“Yes, they say,” answered Nikabrik, “but you’ll notice that we hear precious little about anything he did afterward. He just fades out of the story. How do you explain that, if he really came to life? Isn’t it much more likely that he didn’t, and that the stories say nothing more about him because there was nothing more to say?”
“He established the Kings and Queens,” said Caspian.
“A King who has just won a great battle can usually establish himself without the help of a performing lion,” said Nikabrik. There was a fierce growl, probably from Trufflehunter.
“And anyway,” Nikabrik continued, “what came of the Kings and their reign? They faded too. But it’s very different with the Witch. They say she ruled for a hundred years：a hundred years of winter. There’s power, if you like. There’s something practical.”
“But, heaven and earth！” said the King, “haven’t we always been told that she was the worst enemy of all? Wasn’t she a tyrant ten times worse than Miraz?”
“Perhaps,” said Nikabrik in a cold voice. “Perhaps she was for you humans, if there were any of you in those days. Perhaps she was for some of the beasts. She stamped out the Beavers, I dare say； at least there are none of them in Narnia now. But she got on all right with us Dwarfs. I’m a Dwarf and I stand by my own people. We’re not afraid of the Witch.”
“But you’ve joined with us,” said Trufflehunter.
“Yes, and a lot of good it has done my people, so far,” snapped Nikabrik. “Who is sent on all the dangerous raids? The Dwarfs. Who goes short when the rations fail? The Dwarfs. Who—?”
“Lies！ All lies！” said the Badger.
“And so,” said Nikabrik, whose voice now rose to a scream, “if you can’t help my people, I’ll go to someone who can.”
“Is this open treason, Dwarf?” asked the King.
“Put that sword back in its sheath, Caspian,” said Nikabrik. “Murder at council, eh? Is that your game? Don’t be fool enough to try it. Do you think I’m afraid of you? There’s three on my side, and three on yours.”
“Come on, then,” snarled Trufflehunter, but he was immediately interrupted.
“Stop, stop, stop,” said Doctor Cornelius. “You go on too fast. The Witch is dead. All the stories agree on that. What does Nikabrik mean by calling on the Witch?”
That gray and terrible voice which had spoken only once before said, “Oh, is she?”
And then the shrill, whining voice began, “Oh, bless his heart, his dear little Majesty needn’t mind about the White Lady—that’s what we call her—being dead. The Worshipful Master Doctor is only making game of a poor old woman like me when he says that. Sweet Mastery Doctor, learned Master Doctor, who ever heard of a witch that really died? You can always get them back.”
“Call her up,” said the gray voice. “We are all ready. Draw the circle. Prepare the blue fire.”
Above the steadily increasing growl of the Badger and Cornelius’s sharp “What?” rose the voice of King Caspian like thunder.
“So that is your plan, Nikabrik！ Black sorcery and the calling up of an accursed ghost. And I see who your companions are—a Hag and a Wer-Wolf！”
The next minute or so was very confused. There was an animal roaring, a clash of steel； the boys and Trumpkin rushed in； Peter had a glimpse of a horrible, grey, gaunt creature, half man and half wolf, in the very act of leaping upon a boy about his own age, and Edmund saw a badger and a Dwarf rolling on the floor in a sort of cat fight. Trumpkin found himself face to face with the Hag. Her nose and chin stuck out like a pair of nutcrackers, her dirty gray hair was flying about her face and she had just got Doctor Cornelius by the throat. At one slash of Trumpkin’s sword her head rolled on the floor. Then the light was knocked over and it was all swords, teeth, claws, fists, and boots for about sixty seconds. Then silence.
“Are you all right, Ed?”
“I—I think so,” panted Edmund. “I’ve got that brute Nikabrik, but he’s still alive.”
“Weights and water-bottles！” came an angry voice. “It’s me you’re sitting on. Get off. You’re like a young elephant.”
“Sorry, D. L. F.,” said Edmund. “Is that better?”
“Ow！ No！” bellowed Trumpkin. “You’re putting your boot in my mouth. Go away.”
“Is King Caspian anywhere?” asked Peter.
“I’m here,” said a rather faint voice. “Something bit me.”
They all heard the noise of someone striking a match. It was Edmund. The little flame showed his face, looking pale and dirty. He blundered about for a little, found the candle （they were no longer using the lamp, for they had run out of oil）, set it on the table, and lit it. When the flame rose clear, several people scrambled to their feet. Six faces blinked at one another in the candlelight.
“We don’t seem to have any enemies left,” said Peter. “There’s the Hag, dead.” （He turned his eyes quickly away from her.）“And Nikabrik, dead too. And I suppose this thing is a Wer-Wolf. It’s so long since I’ve seen one. Wolf’s head and man’s body. That means he was just turning from man into wolf at the moment he was killed. And you, I suppose, are King Caspian?”
“Yes,” said the other boy. “But I’ve no idea who you are.”
“It’s the High King, King Peter,” said Trumpkin.
“Your Majesty is very welcome,” said Caspian.
“And so is your Majesty,” said Peter. “I haven’t come to take your place, you know, but to put you into it.”
“Your Majesty,” said another voice at Peter’s elbow. He turned and found himself face to face with the Badger. Peter leaned forward, put his arms round the beast and kissed the furry head：it wasn’t a girlish thing for him to do, because he was the High King.
“Best of badgers,” he said. “You never doubted us all through.”
“No credit to me, your Majesty,” said Trufflehunter. “I’m a beast and we don’t change. I’m a badger, what’s more, and we hold on.”
“I am sorry for Nikabrik,” said Caspian, “though he hated me from the first moment he saw me. He had gone sour inside from long suffering and hating. If we had won quickly he might have become a good Dwarf in the days of peace. I don’t know which of us killed him. I’m glad of that.”
“You’re bleeding,” said Peter.
“Yes, I’m bitten,” said Caspian. “It was that—tthat wolf thing.” Cleaning and bandaging the wound took a long time, and when it was done Trumpkin said, “Now. Before everything else we want some breakfast.”
“But not here,” said Peter.
“No,” said Caspian with a shudder. “And we must send someone to take away the bodies.”
“Let the vermin be flung into a pit,” said Peter. “But the Dwarf we will give to his people to be buried in their own fashion.”
They breakfasted at last in another of the dark cellars of Aslan’s How. It was not such a breakfast as they would have chosen, for Caspian and Cornelius were thinking of venison pasties, and Peter and Edmund of buttered eggs and hot coffee, but what everyone got was a little bit of cold bear-meat （out of the boys’pockets）, a lump of hard cheese, an onion, and a mug of water. But, from the way they fell to, anyone would have supposed it was delicious.
第十二章 巫术和复仇
与此同时，杜鲁普金和两个男孩已经抵达了一个幽暗又狭小的石拱门前，通过这扇门就能到达土丘内部。两只负责守卫的獾（周围太暗了，爱德蒙只能看到它们两侧脸颊上的白斑）跳了起来，露齿嗥叫道：“来者何人？”
“杜鲁普金，”小矮人回答道，“我把纳尼亚的至尊国王从远古时期带回来了。”
獾闻了闻孩子们的手。“终于来了，”他们说，“终于来了啊！”
“给点儿光，朋友们！”小矮人说道。
獾从门后取出一支火把，彼得点燃火把，把它交给杜鲁普金。“还是由DLF给我们领路吧，”他说，“我们对这里不熟。”
杜鲁普金接过火把，向黑暗的通道内前进。这地方阴冷又黑暗，散发出一股霉味，在火把的照耀下，偶尔能看到蝙蝠飞过，这里蛛网遍布。两个男孩从在火车站的那天清晨算起，大部分时间都待在户外，此时不由感到仿佛正走进一个陷阱或者监狱一般。
“喂，彼得，”爱德蒙悄声说道，“瞧瞧石墙上的那些雕刻，它们看起来很有年头了吧？可我们比它还大呢！上次来的时候，这儿还没有那些雕刻。”
“没错，”彼得说道，“真是让人思绪万千。”
小矮人继续往前走，接着向右转，然后向左转，朝下走了几级台阶，又向左转。最后，他们终于看到了前方有光亮——那是从门底下透出的光线。而且在这里走了这么久，他们第一次听到有人说话，这是因为他们已经接近堡垒中央的房间。房间里面讲话的人听起来很愤怒，由于说话音量太高，他们没有听到男孩们和小矮人到来的脚步声。
“我不喜欢讲话那么大声，”杜鲁普金轻声对彼得说道，“我们听一会儿他们在说些什么吧。”他们三人便一动不动地站在门外。
“你很清楚，”一个声音说道，（“这是国王。”小矮人轻声说道。）“为什么在黎明时分时我没有吹响号角。你难道忘了杜鲁普金几乎是刚刚动身，米拉兹就打过来了吗？为了自保，我们奋战了三个多小时。刚有了喘息的机会，我第一时间就吹响了号角。”
“我不可能忘啊，”那个愤怒的声音说道，“我的族人当时就在最危险的地方作战，每五个小矮人里就有一个倒下了。”（“是尼克布瑞克。”杜鲁普金小声说道。）
“亏你说得出来，小矮人！”一个嘶哑的声音传来（“是特鲁佛汉特。”杜鲁普金说道），“我们都和小矮人们一样在拼命奋战，而且没有一个能比得上国王陛下。”
“你爱怎么说就怎么说吧，与我无关，”尼克布瑞克回答说，“可是，不管是号角吹得太迟了，还是它根本没有什么魔力，结果就是援军没来。还有你，你这伟大的教士，强大的魔法师，自以为是的人！你还打算让我们把希望寄托在什么阿斯兰、彼得国王之类的人身上吗？”
“我必须承认——我无可否认——吹号角不起作用，我也深感失望。”一个人答道。（“是科尼利厄斯博士。”杜鲁普金说道。）
“不妨直说了吧，”尼克布瑞克说道，“你囊中羞涩，头脑糊涂，计策落空，违背诺言。你最好站一边去，看看别人怎么干。这就是为什么——”
“援军会来的，”特鲁佛汉特说道，“我支持阿斯兰。你要有耐心，这一点你该向我们兽族学习。援军会来的，也许现在已经在门口了。”
“呸！”尼克布瑞克咆哮道，“你们这些獾，只知道叫我们等啊等，等到天塌下来，最后大家一起倒霉！我告诉你们，我们不能再等了。眼看我们就要断粮了；每次交战，我们损失惨重；我们的队伍里，已经有人悄悄溜走了。”
“为什么呢？”特鲁佛汉特问道，“我来告诉你原因吧。这是因为他们议论纷纷，都在说我们已经召唤了古代的国王，可国王们却没有回应。杜鲁普金在临走之前（他这一走很可能就回不来了）说过，‘如果你非要吹那只号，千万不要让营地里其他人知道吹号角的原因，也不要让他们知道你许了什么愿’。可就在当天晚上，本该是秘密的内容已经无人不知。”
“闭上你的嘴！獾，你竟敢暗示是我泄的密！”尼克布瑞克恶狠狠地说道，“收回你说的话，否则——”
“噢，都安静点，你们两个！”凯斯宾国王说道，“我想知道尼克布瑞克一直暗示我们采取的措施到底是什么。不过在你说出措施之前，请你先告诉我们，你带来的这两个陌生人是谁。他们在这里站着听了这么久，可一句话都没说过呢。”
“他们是我的朋友，”尼克布瑞克说道，“要不是因为你是杜鲁普金和獾的朋友，你又凭什么站在这儿？还有那个穿黑袍子的老糊涂，要不是因为是你的朋友，他又凭什么能站在这儿？偏偏只有我不能带自己的朋友来这儿吗？”
“陛下是一国之君，你曾宣誓，将效忠于他。”特鲁佛汉特严肃地说道。
“君臣关系，还谈什么君臣关系呢，”尼克布瑞克满含嘲讽，“在这个土丘里，我们还是坦率些吧。你知道——当然，他也清楚——一周之内，要是我们还不能帮他脱离险境，到时候这个台尔马小子既没领地又没臣民，又算是哪门子的国王。”
“也许，”科尼利厄斯说道，“你那两个新朋友也想说几句？那边两位，你们是谁？是干什么的？”
“尊敬的博士阁下，”一个细细的、像是在哭泣的声音传来，“请听我说，我只是个可怜的老妇人，可敬的小矮人阁下把我当朋友，我万分感激，千真万确。国王陛下，赞美您英俊的面孔。您完全不必防备我，我不过是一个风湿病重到直不起腰、水壶下面连柴火都没有的老妇人。我的本领不过是会几段小咒语，几个小把戏——当然无法与您相比，尊敬的博士阁下——如果各位允许，我很乐意用我的本领来抗击我们共同的敌人。因为我恨他们，没错，没人比我恨得更深了。”
“很有意思，而且——呃——很令人满意，”科尼利厄斯博士说道，“这位女士，我想我现在知道你是干什么的了。尼克布瑞克，也许你的另一位朋友也乐意介绍一下他自己吧？”
一个呆滞、阴沉的声音响起，彼得一听就起了一身的鸡皮疙瘩：“我饿，我渴。只要让我咬住敌人，我到死都不松嘴。就算我死了，也得把我咬着的肉从敌人的身上割下来，与我一起下葬。不吃不喝过上一百年，我照样死不了。冰面上躺一百个夜晚，我照样冻不坏。我还能喝下一条河那么多的血，肚子依旧撑不破。说吧，你们的敌人在哪里。”
“你带这两个人过来，就为了宣布你的计划，是不是？”凯斯宾问道。
“没错，”尼克布瑞克说道，“我要借助他们的力量来实施这个计划。”
接下来的一两分钟里，杜鲁普金和两个男孩只能听到凯斯宾和他的两位朋友在低声商议，但是听不清到底说了什么。然后，凯斯宾大声说了起来。
“那好，尼克布瑞克，”他说道，“说出你的计划吧。”
尼克布瑞克沉默了很久，直到孩子们开始怀疑他到底打不打算公布他的计划。终于，尼克布瑞克开口了，声音比之前还要低，就好像连他自己都不太愿意讲出下面一段话。
“所有该说和该做的，我们都试过了，”他低声喃喃道，“我们都不知道古纳尼亚到底是什么样子。杜鲁普金根本不相信那些传说，我倒还有意试试。我们先是吹响号角，但宣告失败。如果至尊国王彼得、苏珊女王、爱德蒙国王和露西女王真的存在，他们或者没听到我们的求助，或者没法儿赶来，或者他们也是我们的敌人——”
“或者他们正在赶来的路上。”特鲁佛汉特插嘴说道。
“你大可以继续这么说，直到米拉兹活捉我们所有人，丢去喂狗。我只想说，我们已经试过了古老传说中的一件宝物，结果根本不顶用。可是，宝剑折断了，还能用*首匕**。古老传说里，除了国王和女王，还有别的力量。我们为什么不试着向别的力量求助呢？”
“如果你是指阿斯兰，”特鲁佛汉特说，“召唤他和召唤古代的国王们是一回事儿。他们是他的臣仆。如果他不肯派他们来（但我还是相信他会派他们来的），也许他会亲自前来呢？”
“不。有一点你说对了，”尼克布瑞克说，“阿斯兰和古代国王们是一同行动的。也就是说，或者阿斯兰已经死了，或者他并不站在我们这边，又或者，某种更强大的势力导致他无法前来。就算他出现了，我们又怎么知道他一定就是我们的朋友呢？那么多古老传说里，他都和我们小矮人有过过节，对有些兽族来说也是一样，你可以去问野狼。再说，我听说，阿斯兰只来过纳尼亚一次，而且没有停留多久。所以你不用考虑阿斯兰。我想到的是别的人。”
没人接他的话，过了好几分钟，还是没响起任何声音，爱德蒙几乎可以听到獾呼哧呼哧的呼吸声和抽鼻子声。
“你想到的是谁？”凯斯宾终于问道。
“我是说那个比阿斯兰有能耐得多的人物。如果古老的传说所言不假，那么她下的咒语曾经束缚了纳尼亚许多年。”
“白女巫！”三个声音同时喊道。听着房间里的响动，彼得猜测有三个人一下跳了起来。
“是的，”尼克布瑞克慢条斯理地说，“我说的正是白女巫。坐回位子上，别像小孩子似的一听这个名字就吓蒙了。我们需要强者，而且这个强者必须站在我们这一边。要说强大，传说不是早就告诉我们了吗，白女巫打败了阿斯兰，把他捆了起来，就在那块大石头上把他杀掉了吗？”
“可传说还提到，他后来又复活了。”獾尖锐地说道。
“是的，传说的确这样说的，”尼克布瑞克答道，“可你会发现，从那以后就少有他的消息了。他再也没有出现在传说里。如果他真的活过来了，这点你如何解释呢？难道真相不是他根本没有复活吗？传说再也不曾提起他，那是因为没什么可讲的了，是不是？”了，是不是？”
“他册封了国王和女王们。”凯斯宾说道。
“一个刚刚赢得了一场大战的国王通常可以自立为王，不需要一头装模作样的狮子帮忙。”尼克布瑞克说。这时又传来一阵凶猛的低哮，大概是特鲁佛汉特。
“话又说回来，”尼克布瑞克接着说道，“那几个国王统治的结果又怎么样呢？他们也不见踪影了。可白女巫就不一样了。传说她统治了一百年：一百个寒冬。你不得不承认，这就是能耐！这可是实实在在的。”
“可是，我的天！”国王说道，“没人告诉过你她一直都是我们最大的敌人吗？她难道不是比米拉兹还要可怕十倍的暴君吗？”
“也许吧，”尼克布瑞克冷冷地说道，“如果那个时代有你们人类的话，那么对你们而言，她或许是暴君。对某些兽族来说，可能也是如此。我敢说是她*倒打**了海狸家族，如今在纳尼亚一只海狸都没有了。可是，她和我们小矮人一直相处得很好。我是个小矮人，我当然站在自己种族的立场上。我们并不害怕白女巫。”
“但是你已经加入了我们的队伍。”特鲁佛汉特说道。
“没错，到目前为止，我的人可真是得到了不少好处呢！”尼克布瑞克厉声说道，“谁被派去执行最危险的突袭任务？小矮人。粮食不够，谁的粮食变少了？小矮人。谁——”
“谎言！全是谎言！”獾叫道。
“所以说，”尼克布瑞克说道，用一种近乎尖叫的声音，“你们要是给不了我的族人任何好处，我就要去找别的人了。”
“这是要公然反叛吗，小矮人？”凯斯宾问道。
“把剑收回去，凯斯宾，”尼克布瑞克说道，“想在开会的时候谋害我，嗯？这就是你的打算？想都别想，那是犯傻。你以为我会怕你吗？你们是三个，我们一样是三个。”
“那就放马过来吧，”特鲁佛汉特咆哮道，可他的话立即被打断了。
“冷静，冷静，冷静，”科尼利厄斯博士说道，“你刚才话说得太快了。白女巫已经死了，所有的传说都是这么说的。可是尼克布瑞克想要召唤女巫，这是什么意思？”
那个之前只讲了一次话的阴沉可怖的声音又响了起来：“哦，她死了吗？”
那尖细的、哭泣一样的声音接着说：“噢！让上天保佑他的心吧，小陛下不必担心白夫人——我们都是这么尊称她的——已死的事情。阁下这么说，莫不是和我这可怜的老太婆开玩笑吧。亲爱的博士阁下，学识渊博的博士阁下，有谁听说过女巫会真的死掉吗？你随时都可以把她们召唤回来的。”
“召唤她吧，”那个阴沉的声音说道，“我们都准备好了，画一个圆圈，再准备蓝色的火。”
獾发出越来越响的怒吼，博士厉声喊道：“什么？”，可是凯斯宾雷鸣般的声音盖过了他们。
“所以这就是你的计划，尼克布瑞克！用黑魔法去召唤那可恨的鬼魂！现在我明白你的同伴都是谁了——一个巫婆和一个狼人！”
接着里面一阵混乱，有兽类的咆哮声，还有金属的撞击声。孩子们和杜鲁普金此时破门而入。彼得一眼瞥见一个面目可怖、身材枯瘦的灰色身影，一半是人，一半是狼，正扑向一个和自己差不多年纪的男孩；爱德蒙看见一只獾正和一个小矮人在地上翻滚扭打；杜鲁普金则一跃来到巫婆的面前。巫婆尖尖的鼻子和下巴凸出面部许多，活像一把胡桃钳子，她肮脏的白发披散在脸上，双手正紧紧扼住科尼利厄斯博士的脖子。杜鲁普金挥手辟出一剑，巫婆的脑袋霎时滚落在地。然后，灯也被打翻在地，屋里漆黑一片，宝剑、尖牙、利爪、拳头、靴子一通混战，大约持续了一分钟，一切沉寂了下来。
“你没事吧，爱德？”
“我——我觉得没事，”爱德蒙气喘吁吁地说道，“我逮住了尼克布瑞克那个混蛋，可他还活着呢。”
“你压着我了！”一个生气的声音传来，“你坐的是我啊！快起来，你重得像头大象！”
“抱歉，DLF,”爱德蒙说道，“这样好些了吗？”
“噢！不！”杜鲁普金大吼一声，“你的靴子踩到我嘴里了！快一边去！”
“凯斯宾国王在哪儿呢？”彼得问道。
“我在这儿，”一个虚弱无力的声音答道，“我被什么东西咬了一口。”
所有人都听到了划火柴的声音，是爱德蒙点了根火柴。微弱的火焰照亮了他的脸，只见他脸又苍白又脏。他略微摸索一番，发现一支蜡烛（他们早就不用油灯了，因为油都用光了）。爱德蒙把蜡烛放在桌子上，将它点燃。当火焰变得明亮时，有几个人赶紧爬了起来。借着烛光，六个人惊愕地打量着彼此。
“看来敌人都被干掉了，”彼得说道，“那是巫婆，死了（他迅速把目光从她身上移开）。这是尼克布瑞克，也死了。我猜这家伙就是狼人吧。我很久没见过狼人了。狼的头加上人的身体，这意味着他被杀的时候刚要从人变成狼。而你，我猜，应该就是凯斯宾国王吧？”
“是的，”对面的男孩答道，“但我还不知道你是谁。”
“他就是至尊国王彼得陛下。”杜鲁普金说道。
“热忱欢迎陛下。”凯斯宾说道。
“也同样欢迎你，陛下，”彼得说道，“你知道，我不是来取代你的地位的，而是来助你夺回王位的。”
“陛下。”彼得手肘旁响起了一声尊呼。他侧过身去，看到面前正是那只獾。彼得身体向前倾，伸出双臂抱住它，又亲了亲它那毛茸茸的头。彼得这个举动一点不带女孩子气，因为他是至尊国王。
“你是最好的獾！”他说道，“你从没对我们失去过信心。”
“陛下言重了，”特鲁佛汉特说道，“我是兽族，我们是不会三心二意的，更何况我还是只獾，我们总是坚定不移。”
“我为尼克布瑞克惋惜，”凯斯宾说道，“尽管第一次见面他就仇视我。多年的苦难和仇恨扭曲了他的内心。如果我们能在短时间内取得胜利，那么他是有可能变成一个很好的小矮人的。我不知道是我们当中的谁杀了他，我为此高兴。”
“你在流血。”彼得说道。
“是的，我被咬了，”凯斯宾说道，“是那个狼一样的家伙咬的。”清洁和包扎伤口耗费了很久。把该做的都做好了之后，杜鲁普金说，“行了。在做别的事之前，我们先吃点早餐吧。”
“但得出去吃。”彼得说道。
“对，”凯斯宾说道，打了个冷战，“我们必须叫人把这些尸体弄出去。”
“把这些祸害扔在一个坑里埋掉，”彼得说道，“只把那个小矮人的尸体交给他的同族，让他们按自己的风俗给他下葬。”
他们总算在阿斯兰的堡垒的另一个地窖里吃上了早餐。这不是他们想要的早餐：凯斯宾和科尼利厄斯想要的是鹿肉馅饼，彼得和爱德蒙想要黄油煎蛋和热咖啡。而现在每人只得到一小块冷冰冰的熊肉（是从两个男孩的口袋里掏出来的）、一小块硬邦邦的乳酪、一个洋葱，还有一杯水。不过看他们饿虎扑食的样子，任谁都会以为他们吃的是什么人间美味呢。