It is a thrilling tale set in the golden ages of Narnia and Calormene, and the places in between.Back then Peter was the Supreme King of the Kingdom of Narnia, and his younger brother and two younger sisters were all kings and queens under his leadership. In those days, far south of the kingdom of Calormene, in a little bay by the sea, there lived a poor fisherman named Ashish, and there lived with him a child who called him Papa.The boy's name was Shasta.On most days Ashish went fishing in a boat in the morning and in the afternoon put his donkey in a wagon and loaded the fish in the wagon and walked a mile or so to the village in the south sell.If the fish went well, he came home milder and not mean to Shasta; but if the fish went bad, he would find Shasta's fault or beat him up .It was always possible to find the fault of Shasta, for Shasta had a lot of work: mending and washing the nets, and cooking supper, and cleaning the house they shared.

Shasta was not at all interested in anything south of his house, for he had been to the village once or twice with Ashish and knew there was nothing interesting there.He met only people in the village who were exactly like his father—in dirty robes, wooden shoes with turned-up toes, turbans, and beards, talking slowly and sounding dull.But he was interested in everything north, because no one ever went north, and he was never allowed to go north.When he sat alone outside his house mending nets, he often looked longingly to the north.Looking out, you can only see a grassy hillside, extending up to a flat ridge, beyond the ridge is the sky, maybe there are a few birds in the sky.

Sometimes, if Ashish was by his side, Shasta would say, "My father, what is beyond the hill?" Do what he says.Or, if he happened to be at peace, he would have taught him, "My son, do not let irrelevant questions distract you. A poet has said: Mind in business is the root of riches; Whoever inquires about irrelevant questions is throwing the ship of stupidity over the rocks of poverty." Shaspey thought that there must be some pleasant secrets beyond the hill, but his father hoped to hide it from him and keep him from knowing it.In fact, however, the fisherman said this because he himself did not know where the north was.He doesn't care about this kind of problem.His mind is very practical.

One day a stranger came from the South, unlike anyone Shasta had ever met before.He rode a strong piebald horse with a flowing mane and tail and silver-inlaid stirrups and bridle.The tip of his helmet protruded from the middle of his silk turban, and he was clad in chain mail.A curved short knife hangs by his side, a round shield inlaid with copper blocks is inserted behind his back, and a spear is held in his right hand.His face was swarthy, but Shasta did not wonder at it, for all Calormenes were like that; what surprised him was that the man's beard was blood-red, and his fists were curled and glistening. Glowing, but also exudes bursts of oily fragrance.But Ashish, who recognized the stranger by the gold ring on his bare arm as a Tarkan, or great lord, bowed and knelt before Tarkan until his beard touched the ground, and he gestured Shasta also knelt down.

The stranger asked to entertain him for a night, and of course the fisherman dared not refuse.For his supper they set before Tarkaan the best food (which he despised): and as for Shasta, as the fisherman used to have company, he was given a large loaf of bread and sent him out of the house.In such cases Shasta always slept with the Donkey in his little thatched hut.It was too early for bed, however, and Shasta sat down, put his ear to a crack in the plank wall of the house, and listened to what the grown-ups were talking about.Shasta never understood that it was wrong to eavesdrop outside the door.Here is the conversation he overheard. "

"Oh, my lord," said the Tarkan, "I will buy your child." "Ah, my lord," answered the fisherman (from the flattering tone that Shasta could imagine the greedy look that might have been on his face as he spoke), "your servant may be poor, but how old are you?" Can the price be enough to prompt him to sell his only son, his own flesh and blood into slavery? Isn’t there a poet who said: ‘Natural love is stronger than love, and descendants are more valuable than rubies’?” "Nevertheless," replied the guest icily, "another poet has said this: 'He who tries to deceive the wise and prudent has shown his back and is about to be whipped.' Don't you old mouth Lies abound. The child is evidently not your own son, for your cheeks are as dark as mine, and this child's cheeks are fair and white, like the reproached but beautiful savages in the far north. "

"It is a good saying," answered the fisherman, "that a sword is against a shield, but the eye of wisdom pierces all defenses. My formidable guest, for I am so poor that I have never married, And no son. But in the year when Tithrok (may he live without end) began his majestic and blessed reign, one night the moon was full and the gods pleased me so that I could not sleep. So I I got up in this hut, walked out of the house, went to the beach, looked at the sea and the moon, breathed in the cool air, and refreshed myself. After a while, I heard a sound, like an oar paddling towards me on the water The sound of approaching, and then I heard what seemed to be a faint cry. Soon the lake washed a small boat ashore with nothing in it but a man emaciated from extreme hunger and thirst (he seemed died only a few minutes ago, for his body was still warm), an empty water bladder, and a child who was still alive.' There is no doubt,' I said, 'that these two unfortunate people Fleeing from a wrecked ship, but by the admirable design of the gods, the older one kept the child alive by not eating or drinking himself, and he himself died when he saw land So. Remembering that the gods never fail to reward those who are kind to the destitute, motivated by compassion (for your servant is a soft-hearted man)—"

"Cut all this self-admiring nonsense of yours aside," interrupted Taekan, "that's enough for me to know that you've taken this boy—anybody can see that you've taken this boy The benefit of his labors is worth ten times his daily bread. Tell me now what you want for the boy, for I am tired of your babbling." "You have wisely said yourself," replied Ashish, "that the child's labor is of inestimable value to me. For, if I sell the child, I will undoubtedly have to buy another One or hire a kid to do what he does." "I'd give fifteen Krishens for the child," Taykan said.

"Fifteen!" cried Ashish, in a tone that was somewhere between a whimper and a scream. "Fifteen krishens! I want to take away the support of my old age and the joy in my heart by paying this little money! Don't make fun of my white beard, even though you are a Tarkan. The price I set is seventy krishens .” Shasta got up at this and stomped away.He had heard all he wanted to hear, for he had often heard grown-ups haggling in the village and knew how deals were made.He was quite sure in his heart that Ashish would eventually sell him for a price that was much higher than fifteen Kryshens and much lower than seventy Kryshens, but Ashish and Taikan still had to work hard. It took hours to reach an agreement. -

Don't you think Shasta would feel as sorry as we do if we overheard our parents talking about selling us into slavery.He wasn't feeling bad at all.One is that his life is not much better than the life of a slave, maybe that stranger who is like a prince on a big horse will be kinder to him than Ashish; To find his story in the boat was a thrill, and a sense of comfort.He had often been troubled: no matter how hard he tried, he could never love the fisherman, but he knew in his heart that a child should love his father.But now, it was clear that he had no blood relationship with Ashish at all.This lifted a heavy burden from his heart. "Ah, I may be anything!" thought he, "I may be a natural son of a Tarkhan--or a son of Tithrok (may he live long)--or a son of a god! "

While thinking these things in his mind, he was standing on the grass outside the house.Twilight is falling quickly, and there are two stars that have appeared, and the afterglow of the western sunset is faintly visible.Not far away, the stranger's horse was grazing, loosely tied to a ring on the wall of the donkey shed.Shasta walked over and patted the horse on the neck.The horse went on pulling up and chewing the grass, not paying attention to Shasta. Then another thought occurred to Shasta. "I don't know what kind of man this Tarkan is," he cried, "if he is kind and kind. There are some slaves who hardly work in the palace of the High Lord. They Wear nice clothes and eat meat every day. Maybe he'll take me to war, and I save his life in a battle, and he'll release me from slavery, take me as his adopted son, and give I have a palace, a chariot, and a suit of armor. But he could be a terrible, cruel man. He would make me chained and go to work in the fields, and I wish I knew what he was. How could I I can't find out, and I bet the horse knows, if only he could tell me." The horse looked up.Shasta stroked his satin-smooth nose and said, "Old man, I wish you could talk." Then he thought for a moment that he was dreaming, for, though in a low voice, the horse said very clearly, "I can talk." Shasta stared straight into the horse's large eyes, and his own eyes widened in astonishment, almost as big as the horse's eyes. "How on earth did you learn to talk?" he asked. "Don't yell! You don't need to be so loud," replied the horse. "Nearly all the animals where I used to live talked." "Where is that place anyway?" asked Shasta. "In Narnia," replied the horse, "the land of Narnia--Narnia has hills lush with heather and hills covered with thyme. There are many rivers in Narnia, the sound of warm and humid valleys, and caves overgrown with grass. Moss, deep in the woods resounds the dwarf's hammer. How sweet is the air in Narnia! An hour in Narnia is better than a thousand years in Calormen." At the end there is a horse neighing, which sounds very Like a long sigh. "How did you come here?" asked Shasta. "Kidnapped," said the horse, "or stolen or captive--whatever you like. I was but a colt then. My mother warned me, I don't wander the south slopes, don't go into Archenland or out of Archenland, but I won't listen to it. God, I paid for my stupidity. All these years, I've been a slave to men, hiding my true nature, pretending to be dumb, pretending to be stupid, pretending to be like their horses." "Why don't you tell them who you are?" "I'm not that kind of a fool. Once they find out who I am, they'll send me to the market for an exhibition, and guard me more carefully than they used to. My last chance to escape is gone." "Then why—" began Shasta, but the horse cut him off. "Attention," said the horse, "we must not waste our time on irrelevant matters. You want to inquire about my master, Tycan Allin? Oh, he is a bad man, and he did not treat me very badly, because If you treat a war horse too badly, the consequences will be too serious. However, instead of going to his palace to be a slave tomorrow, you might as well lie down and die tonight." "Then I'd better run away," said Shasta, turning pale with anxiety. "Yes, you had better run away," said the horse, "but why don't you run away with me?" "Are you going to run too?" said Shasta. "Yes, if you will go with me," replied the horse, "and it is a chance for us both. You see, if I go out by myself, and there is no one on horseback, everyone who sees me People will say I'm a 'lost horse' and will come after me like hell. There's a rider so I can get through. That's where you can help me. On the other hand, with your stupidity (Human legs are ridiculous!) You can't go far, you'll always be caught. But on me, you can go as far as any other horse in this country. far behind. That's where I can help you. By the way, you probably know how to ride a horse?" "Yes, of course I can," said Shasta. "At least I have ridden a donkey." "Riding what?" the horse retorted scornfully. (At least, that's what the horse means. It actually makes a sort of neighing sound: "Rided wah-ha-ha-ha." Talking horses, when they're angry, horses The tone is more intense. "In other words," continued the horse, "you can't ride. That's a problem. I've got to teach you how to ride along the way. If you can't ride, will you fall?" "I reckon anybody can fall," said Shasta. "I mean, do you have the ability to fall off a horse, get up without a word, get back on the horse, fall off the horse again, and still not be afraid to fall? " "I—I'll try," said Shasta. "Poor little beast," said the horse, in a softer tone, "I forgot you were but a colt. I will make you a good rider in time. Now—before the two in the house fall asleep , we must not leave. During this time, we can discuss the plan. My Tarkan is on the way north to the big cities. He is going to the city of Tashbaan. palace--" "I say," put in Shasta in a startled voice, "you should say 'May he live forever'?" "Why?" asked the horse, "I'm a free Narnian horse, why should I talk like a slave and a fool? I don't want him to live forever, and I know he won't, whether I want it or not." Longevity. Stop this Southern bullshit between you and me. Now get back to our plans. Like I said, my man is heading north, to Tashbaan." "You mean we'd better go south?" "That's not what I meant," said the horse. "You see, he thinks I'm dumb and not smart, like all his other horses. In that case, he thinks I'll go home when I get lost. Go Into my stables and paddocks. It's two days' journey south to his palace, where he'll look for me. He never dreamed I'd go north on my own terms. Besides, he probably thought someone saw He rode through the last village, nailed our butts, and stole me here." "Oh, wonderful!" said Shasta, "then we've decided to go north. I've longed to go north all my life." "Of course you did," said the horse, "because of the blood in you. I'm sure you're a true northern breed. But don't talk too loudly. I think they're fast asleep now." .” "I'd better crawl back and have a look," suggested Shasta. "That's a good idea," said the horse, "but be careful you don't get caught." It was much darker now and very still except for the sound of the waves on the beach; which Shasta did not pay attention to because it was what he had heard night and day as long as he could remember.There was no light in the room as he approached.He listened at the front door, but there was no sound.He went around under the only window, and after a second or two he could hear the familiar snoring of the old fisherman.It was funny to think that if all went well, he would never hear Da snoring again.He held his breath and felt a little bit regretful, but after all, he was more happy than sorry.Shasta walked quietly across the meadow to the donkey shed.He groped his way to a place where he knew the key was hidden, opened the door, and found the saddle and bridle (which had been left there for the night).He bent down and kissed the donkey's nose. "I'm sorry I can't take you with me," he said. "There you are at last," said the horse as he returned, "and I was wondering where you were." "I took your things out of the donkey shed," answered Shasta, "and can you tell me how to put them on you?" For the next few minutes Shasta went about his work, taking care not to make any jingling noises, while the horse said things like, "Tighten up the girth a little," or "Go down a little more." You'll find the buckle", or "You'll have to shorten the stirrups a bit. When everything is assembled, the horse says, "Well, we'll have a bridle for the show, but you don't need a bridle." rope.Tie it to the forward bend of the saddle; loose enough to let my head move freely.And remember—you don't touch the rein. " "Then what's the use of the reins?" asked Shasta. "Usually it's used to guide me," Ma'er said, "but this time I will guide the direction by myself, so please stand by and watch. One more thing, I don't want you to grab me mane." "But, please," pleaded Shasta, "if I don't grab the rein or your mane, how can I sit still?" "Clamp me with your knees." The horse said, "That's the trick to riding a horse well. Use your knees to clamp my body as tightly as you like; you want Sitting upright like a poker stick, with elbows tucked in. By the way, what do you do with your spurs?" "On my heels, of course," said Shasta. "That's all I know." "Then you might as well take the spurs off and put them in the saddlebags. Maybe we'll be able to sell them when we get to Tashbaan. Ready? Then I think you can jump on it now." "Ah! You are so big and scary!" he gasped after trying unsuccessfully to jump on the horse for the first time. "I'm a horse, and nothing more than a horse," was the horse's answer, "and from the way you try to get on my back, any man would think me a tall haystack Yes. Well, this time is better. Sit up straight, and remember what I said about clenching your knees. I was in the cavalry charge—the horse was first, I won the race, and now I have a statue on my back. You look like a bag of potatoes, it’s funny to think about it! Anyway, let’s go.” Ma’er secretly smiled without any malice. The horses did begin their night trek very cautiously.It walked first south of the fisherman's house, until it came to the creek (where the creek flows into the sea), and deliberately left some very obvious hoof marks going south in the mud.But when they came to a place in the creek where they could wade, they turned and went up against the current, waded a hundred yards or so further inland than the fisherman's house, and selected a small A suitable, non-footprinting gravel bank climbed the north bank of the river.Then, still walking slowly north, until he came to the fisherman's house, the tree, the donkey shed, the river—in fact, all that Shasta knew—melted into the vast darkness of the summer night. , I can't even see it.They had gone uphill, and now they came to the top of the ridge--the very ridge which had once been the limit of the world as Shasta had known it.Shaspei couldn't see what was in front of him, only saw that the place was very open and the grass was luxuriant.The place stretches as far as the eye can see; wild, lonely, free. The horse commented, "What a place to gallop! Isn't it?" "Oh, don't run so fast," said Shasta, "I don't know how to gallop yet—tell me, horse, I don't know your name." "Brihay-Heaney-Blinney-Hohay-ha," said the horse. "I can never say such a long name," said Shasta. "May I call you Bree?" "Well, if you try your best to call me Bree," said the horse, "then what shall I call you?" "My name is Shasta." "Well," said Bree, "ah, that's a really hard name to pronounce. But talk about galloping. It's a lot easier than trotting as you know it, because you don't have to bump. You Clamp with both knees and look straight ahead between my ears. Don't look at the ground. If you think you're about to fall, clamp tighter and sit straighter. Ready? Go straight now Narnia, go straight north.