All Caspian knew was when he saw Lucy getting attacked by the Harfangian snake, he had to stop him. Heremembered taking a step forward, ready and determined to unsheathe his sword hidden well beneath his cloak and end the mans life whose back was facing him, until Peter had held him back, making reality set back in

The fact was, they weren't safe here. With only Peter and himself, they would never stand a chance against all of the blasted guards waiting just outside of the cell. And with Lucy so injured, she would only slow them down since they forgot her cordial back at camp. They knew they would never escape, no matter how hard they tried, it would be no use because Drinian and the small band of centaurs outside in the courtyard would never reach them in time in case they were caught.

But they had a plan and both him and Peter knew it was going risk all three of their lives.

"And You two. Stay here. If you don't, you will never see another day. Understood?" Vartan had asked them. He remembered them both nodding, and saying "yes sir" in unison, but had made the mistake of using a rather pathetic Ettinsmoorian accent, which had triggered Lucy's suspicion.Thankfully Vartan must have been troubled thinking about the Narnians awaiting outside in the castles courtyard, for he would have caught it otherwise

Once the door shut and locked into place, Caspian rushed over to the table to see the face who had haunted him day and night for an entire month. But as he came near her, time completely stopped as he looked at her.

He looked down at her exposed legs, and wanted to kill the two servants who had done what they had to her. From her ankles, upto her thighs, it was nothing but raw tissue, since Vartan had scraped and scratched all of the blistering off, and he could see the severe alteration it had done to her muscles and bones. He suddenly cringed as his gaze moved up to her torso, and saw the mountainous blood staining through the rags she was wearing, and knew it was a very serious injury. But when he looked at her face, his heart completely broke.

No longer did he see pink cheeks leaking of joy and good health, but vivid green and purple bruised cheeks that were tremendously swollen and proved that she had been struck many a time. It made Caspian's blood boil as he thought of someone harming her without him being able to stop her, from feeling the pain she most assuredly had gone through all alone. He no longer saw the beautiful glossy red lips that he had wanted nothing more than to capture them with his, making it haunt his every thought and every dream for the past month, which matched perfectly with her bronzed freckles signifying she practically lived outdoors. For what replaced the angelic complexion, was raging cracked bloodied lips, and a complexion as white as a sheet. Gone were her beautiful emerald eyes that held such mysterious wisdom and compassion that Caspian was just beginning to understand, but what remained were dull, and colorless depths that were severely sunken in and held a slim amount of hope as they slowly glazed over. But when he saw her lifeless eyes meet his, the only thing he wanted to do was kill himself for not being able to protect her.

She whispered his name, her voice weakened, and slipped so far away from him before he could stop her. He cried out to her as loud as he could, but she was gone "Peter she's dying." Caspian whispered his voice raw and hoarse with emotions he didn't even understand. "What?" Peter had been keeping watch at the door, but hurried over once Caspian broke the news to him. "Her body is going into shock." Caspian stated evenly as he concentrated on the rise and fall of her chest. Caspian suddenly looked at Peter with a grim expression. "There is still time, but we must hurry, in her condition it's going to make the escape plan much more difficult." Peter nodded.

"Her chains need to be cut if she is going to escape." Peter said seriously. They unsheathed their sharpened and polished swords from their cloaks and quickly slashed at her chains, breaking them easily. They suddenly heard someone jiggling with the lock outside and all too soon the heavy door swung open.

"The path is cleared your majesties, but we must hurry. General Thatch is waiting outside of the south wing." He stated gruffly but his face fell once he saw Lucy's still form and he quickly crowded by Caspian and Peter.

"Where is Lucy's healing cordial Trumpkin?" Peter asked critically.

"I don't have it." Trumpkin replied grimly.

"And why not?" Peter asked, while trying to compose himself.

Trumpkin came closer to peer over Lucy, and after he studied her for several moments, looked up at Peter seriously. "It's back at camp with Thatch. It's a long story, but we don't have time, her lungs are beginning to collapse already."

By then Lucy was beginning to gasp heavily, and Caspian acted quickly not giving Peter a chance too. He did what he had been dreaming of since the day she was captured, and that was scooping her small petite body up into his powerful arms, and holding her close to him. He picked her up the only way he had seen a man carry a lady. He first slipped his left arm underneath her knees and slid his right arm down to the small of her back.But when he lifted her, his face fell as he pulled her close to his chest.

She felt hollow.

Dull, and empty.

When Peter saw Caspian's face fall, Peter sadly already knew the answer.

"They've starved her haven't they?"

Caspian could only nod.

Caspian's face twisted with rage when he felt nothing but bones underneath the rags she wore. Peter looked at Caspian with first boiling rage, then changed to concern, and quickly turned to the door where Trumpkin had returned.

"Lead the way."

Peter said authoritatively to the dwarf.

Trumpkin nodded and they quickly exited the torture cell and followed through numerous dark and grimy hallways that Peter and Caspian had seen only moments before. Trumpkin was in front, with Peter following, and Caspian held up the tail holding onto Lucy. Every time they turned from one hall to another, they passed a dead guard in a wooden chair with a slit throat and a gaping still warm blood filled hole in his heart and or abdomen.

"Why couldn't you just hit them on the head?" Peter whispered to Trumpkin as if reading Caspians mind.

"One dead guard means one more that can't hurt us." Trumpkin answered back.

"There are five more hallways we need to cross before we reach the staircase." Trumpkin said after they had been walking for near five minutes, which to them felt like hours.

"How do you know we are only halfway? All of these rooms and paths look the same." Caspian asked perplexed.

Trumpkin gestured at the dead guard in his chair as they passed him and Caspian realized that Trumpkin had used this guard as a special marker as he quickly assessed the mans body as they passed quickly.

Instead of killing him off easily like he did the others, Trumpkin came around the corner after killing yet another guard and walked confidently towards the sluggish man.

The special guard had seen him of course but the man was so fat and shocked to see the famous narnian dwarf knight striding towards him so confidently and quietly, that he froze as if accepting his fate.

Trumpkin moved fast and didn't hesitate thrusting his sword straight through the mans gut and listened as a sickening gurgling sound arose indicating internal bleeding.

Once the burly man fell over, Trumpkin quickly slit his throat and used the tip of his sword to mark wide and thick X's that started from each eyebrow, went through each pupil, and worked his way down to the nose. He was satisfied when wads of black slippery fluid reflexively rushed out. And blood began racing out of his pours, as if a volcanic eruption were taking place underneath his face.

He would have cut the man to pieces for his cowardice, but knew he must move on if they were to escape.

As Caspian looked at each guard, he was glad Trumpkin was on his side, for the small dwarf showed no mercy once you take one of his own, in this case, his queen.

They continued to walk in dead silence, listening intently and slowing at each turn

to make sure there were no guards ahead.

Caspian looked down at Lucy every chance he could as well as Peter, but every time they looked her face kept getting paler and paler.

"Trumpkin I do hope we are almost there." Caspian said anxiously as they turned around yet another corner.

"One more turn after this and then the last hallway that leads to the stairs." Trumpkin said gruffly.

"Wait. Do you hear that?" Peter asked.

"Someone's coming." Trumpkin whispered back as they heard several heavy footsteps coming closer to them.

"Your majesty, it would be best if you hid her grace up against the wall." Trumpkin suggested to Caspian trying not to sound hurried. "And your highness," He gestured to Peter. "We need to kill every last one of them before they call the entire army in on us. There are at least four of them."

Caspian set Lucy down as gently as he could, against the cold stone wall and as quietly as possible, unsheathed his two handed sword.

Trumpkin and Peter followed suit, and they waited quietly for their targets around the dark corner with swords drawn and ready to fight to the death.