The Tale of the Rescue at Pugrahan

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				    and the 
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I. Road

Reepicheep sat on the back of the Narnian caravan, looking longingly to
the northwest, where speckled clouds of brown dust lingered in the air
above the well-worn track from Zalindreh to Azim Balda. He knew the
young rat had promised to seek him out one day, but he worried about her
travels in this land known for its barbarism towards animals, especially
those with Aslan's gift of speech.

"Sir Mouse!" King Caspian's tone was not to be refused. Reepicheep stood
on the rickety horse-drawn wagon bound for Teebeth, and clambered over
the crates and chests of goods and supplies towards the King. The
supplies fed the caravan of Narnian royalty, visiting Calormen to
promote trade between the two great nations, but right now Reepicheep
was silently cursing whoever packed the wagon. Finally finding a path
beneath a chest threatening to shift and fly free at any moment, he
emerged just behind Caspian's shoulder, and straightened his fur before
speaking.

"You summoned me, sire?" A slight bow accomanied his words. A full one
would have set him off balance, and the King would likely not welcome a
well-armed mouse falling into his lap.

Caspian, as always when addressed by the Chief Mouse, took a moment to
locate the voice, eventually turning to spot Reepicheep on a crate
behind him. "Ah, yes. Now Sir Reepicheep, I really must have your word."

Twirling his whiskers like a moustache, Reepicheep asked, "My word on
what, your majesty?"

"No more of your adventures, Reep. We only barely managed to avoid the
riot in Zalindreh..."

The mouse raised his paw, as if to offer a word or two, but Caspian
continued.

"And that incident with the fisherman's net, really Reep, mermaids in
Calormen?"

Reepicheep opened his mouth, "But sire?"

"No buts! You simply will not leave the party, for whatever reason.  I
don't care of the Tisroc himself disgraces all of Narnia, you will
control yourself."

"Your majesty..."

Caspian stared down at the mouse, a dangerous thing to attempt at the
best of times. "One more word, Reepicheep, and you'll spend the rest of
this expedition viewing Calormen through the keyhole of one of these
chests!"

Reepicheep sighed, resigned, and tipped his feathered circlet to the
King, retreating over, between, and under the supplies to his favorite
spot at the back of the wagon, the hoof-falls of the horses and rousing
words of the Narnians muffled. The road stayed near the eastern
coastline, passing through the occasional village, and from his vantage
point all of Calormen seemed to be retreating behind him.

...

As the caravan neared Teebeth, the road turned inland through a lush
tropical forest. And instead of a barren roadway, now the track was
littered, or so it seemed, with small carvings and monuments. Twisted
forms of humans and animals, or something else altogether, also
appearing on small pylons at each side of the road.

"Zardeenah."

Reepicheep whirled, nearly falling from the wagon. King Edmund was
walking to one side of the wagon, making an effort to keep up with the
steady pace of the Narnian horses drawing the caravan onward.

"May I join you there, Reepicheep?"

The mouse said: "You are always welcome, sire," and slid over to make
room as the young king pulled himself onto the wagon, his feet dangling
down, seeming to touch the littered roadway passing beneath.

"What was that you said, sire?"

King Edmund grinned. "The carvings. We're approaching Teebeth, one of
Calormen's spiritual centeres, this one dedicated to Zardeenah. These
carvings are a tribute to her... I'm sure they've been here hundreds of
years, getting broken down into gravel by the passing traffic."

Reepicheep wriggled his nose, "They leave statues on the road to be
tread on as a tribute?"

The young king chucked. "No, silly mouse. They are from the markers
along the road. The Calormenes would rather carve new ones when the old
collapse and break apart." Suddenly he pointed off through the trees.
"See there?"

Following Edmund's gaze, Reepicheep indeed saw the target, a large
carved stone monument at least fifty yards from the track, nearly
overgrown with vines and other plants, left to the forest.

"And what might that be, sire?"

The king grinned. "I've heard that many years ago, before Zardeenah and
Azaroth were worshiped here, the Calormenes made animal sacrifices to
the Children of Tash, who were said to be more brutal than their father,
accepting worship only in fresh blood. Of course, that is just a rumor,
and certainly stories of a cult still practicing those rituals is but a
rumor as well."

Reepicheep's fur stood on end for that moment, looking off into the
monument now vanishing behind lush trees.

...

The small villages surrounding Teebeth were impoverished, hovels of
sticks and earth amidst the lush tropical forest - where the trees had
not been unearthed or scorched to the ground. Reepicheep sat beside
Queen Lucy on the foremost of the wagons in the caravan, watching as the
spires of the Teebeth temples rose before them, appearing out of the
mists and dust forming Narnia's horizon.

"How can the Tisroc be so proud to rule over people who live like this!"
Lucy demanded, her fists clenched.

Reepicheep spoke soothingly, "Your majesty, we must remember that the
Calormenes are not like us. The Tarkaans rule by fear and intimidation,
instead of good will."

Still the queen frowned. "I still wish we could help them. Its not right
for people to live like this."

Reepicheep stayed silent, knowing better than to cross Lucy when her
mind was made up.

The fields, to a Narnian eye just dirt, were harvest enough for the
peasants who worked them, digging up potatos for the spicy hash the
Tarkaans favoured, and small sprouts for pressing into spices.

"Sir Reep?" Lucy started, "Has my brother told you his ghost stories of
Tash's Children yet?"

Reepicheep nodded thoughtfully. "Aye, sire, he described to me their
rituals... in most graphic words. I pray he did not trouble you with
such imagery."

Queen Lucy giggled. "Its all just made up, you know. He got it from some
old books in the library of Cair Paravel. We know so very little truth
of Calormen now it is hard to imagine such tales from the past having
any credibility."

For some reason, the words did not comfort Reepicheep. "King Edmund is
not prone to telling tales. Perhaps there is a truth of sorts to the
stories. If there is even the slightest danger to your person, m'lady, I
must be ready to fight in your defence."

Lucy grinned admiringly at the warrior. "As always, my thanks noble
mouse. But what have we to fear, with the consent of the Tisroc giving
us near free-reign in his lands?"

What indeed, thought Reepicheep.

......................................................................

II. City

"Way! Way for the Northern Barbarians!"

The cry rang out at every intersection of the twisted, contorted
streets. Teebeth was a city with focus; but more than one, and around
each temple rising into the dust-choked air the streets danced between
buildings like and intricate Terebinthian knot. The hot Calormene
sun baked the Narnians dry, as it had to the mud dwellings making up
the streets.

The caravan had passed the Temple of Azaroth, and was progressing to the
Temple of Tash. While not as elaborate as the temple in the City of the
Tisroc, Teebeth's tribute to the Calormene god was perhaps more
meaningful. And certainly more horrible to look at.

"Ewwwwww." Queen Lucy summed it up rather well as the structure came
into view. Pillars, twisting into spikes, surrounded a central pillar,
bearing a gruesome stone idol of Tash. Carved from a black stone, the
four-armed god was protrayed in battle, dismembering and devouring his
enemies alone.

"They say it was designed after an ancient temple once spotted out to
sea," said Edmund. "The Calormenes fear to sail far, and evidently when
they saw its spires, they turned back and decided that was far enough."

"Truly, your majesty?" inquired the Chief Mouse.

Lucy looked at her brother scoldingly. "I wish you wouldn't make up such
tales."

While Reepicheep looked back and forth between the two, Edmund argued,
"A shipload of Calormene sailors once told me the tale. Might I add they
were already in chains, and en route back to the Tisroc, so had nothing
to gain by telling me the yarn. Be it true or not, they did not doubt
the tale."

The queen turned away from her brother, a scowl on her face. Then she 
brightened. "Look at the crowd!" 

For indeed, a large crowd of Calormene peasants had gathered about
the caravan, packing the dirty streets of Teebeth. They kept their
distance from the wagons, but their very presence was intimidating.
Like all the Calormene below the station of Tarkaan or Tarkheena, they
were clothed in filthy rags, less than what the most vile prisoner
at Cair Paravel would be forced to wear. But here and there, Reepicheep
noticed, among the grimy faces, was a man who didn't quite fit in.
Perhaps the stance of one man, or the clean face of another belied the
supposed lifestyle. He wasn't sure. But he was suspicious nonetheless.

The wagon ground to a halt, and Reepicheep noticed they had arrived at
the Temple of Tash, parked outside the black spires. He hopped down from 
the cart, dust kicking up under even his soft footfalls, and waited for
Edmund and Lucy to accompany him along the path leading to the temple
altar.

Caspian was already waiting on the pathway, with their Calormene guide
and a few of the other Narnians. Reepicheep glanced at the wagons to
see some of the entourage doing their best to look away from the
horrid structure rising above them. Edmund took a deep breath, and
started down the winding path towards the altar, followed by an almost
reluctant Lucy. A few of the others followed, but King Caspian gestured
for Reepicheep to wait, a dour look on his face.

"Now remember our talk yesterday, Chief Mouse. No trouble."

"Aye, sire." Reepicheep felt hurt at being scolded like a child, but
would never let anyone see his reaction.

Caspian's demeanor brightened. "Well, as long as you understand. Shall
we, good mouse?"

The two followed the other Narnians into the temple. The spires were
pocked with openings and ledges, and decorated with elaborate, though
ghastly, carvings of beasts and men, gods and lightning. The path, 
paved with bricks of some black rock, was engraved as well, with words
in the fluid Calormene script. Reepicheep hurried ahead to where
Edmund had paused, pouring over a section of the path.

"Sire?" the mouse inquired, "Have you found something of interest?"

The young king grinned jovially. "I can't read much of the writing, but
I recognized a date, here." He indicated a weathered section of the 
pavement. "This gives a date... about a thousand years ago, Narnian
time. And it mentions the Children of Tash I told you about. This
must have been one of the worshipers temples... but I'll wager the 
priests of Tash now don't make that known to the people."

Reepicheep nodded. "They are a curious lot, these Calormene."

Mouse and king hurried to catch up with the others, who were climbing
the circular steps to the altar room, under a dome capped with silver,
reflecting the cruel edges of the surrounding spires and unbearable
brightness of the sun above. It was under this dome that the grotesque
statue of Tash, rending his enemies, was positioned, at the heart
of the spired, black temple.

The Narnians arrayed themselves around the statue, the tallest of the
group reaching only to Tash's knees, which to Reepicheep looked
distinctly scrawny, though he said nothing of the sort. Caspian had
donned a calm, diplomatic face, Lucy looked as if she might be ill,
while Edmund grinned foolishly, leaning closer for a look at the carved
scrawl of writings.

While the Calormene guide droned on about the idol's history, 
Reepicheep looked back between the spires as a sudden movement caught 
his eye. The sunlight reflected from the dome lit the black pillars,
but also cast dark shadows among them, and the mouse was sure he 
had seen someone darting between the columns. He watched carefully 
for a number of moments, then twirled his whiskers thoughtfully and
turned back to the speaking guide, having seen nothing further.

The lecture appeared to be nearly over, as the Calormene continued, "...and
on the eighth day of the Feast of Tash, a goat is sacrificed to the
Inexorable, the irresistable Tash." A number of the Narnians looked
a bit under the weather at this point, but Edmund was listening
with great interest, and was genuinely displeased when the guide
said, "Shall we continue to the Temple of Zardeena?"

Lucy was first out of the altar room, brushing past Reepicheep in
her haste to return to the cart, followed closely by the attendants
and diplomats among the party. Reepicheep called out to get Caspian's
attention, and when the King stopped and bent down to listen,
Reepicheep spoke.

"Sire, I am under the impression that we are being watched, perhaps
followed through this city."

The young king chuckled. "Sir Reepicheep, while I trust you implicitly,
I fear you'll be off on another wild adventure if I let you have your
way. We have nothing to fear with our guards and the Calormene guides."

And with that, Caspian joined the rest of the Narnians walking back
to the caravan. Reepicheep stood on the carved steps of the temple, 
his tail twitching furiously, and waited for the king to return and
beg his pardon, though he knew it would never happen. When the 
entourage had completely vanished from sight behind the spires of
rock, he sighed once more, and started down the steps after the
other Narnians. 

It was only a few paces from the temple steps that a rock figurine,
hefted by some unknown assailant, stole the mouse's consciousness.