“To arms， Narnia！ Treachery！” Peter shouted. If all three had set upon him at once he would never have spoken again. But Glozelle stopped to stab his own King dead where he lay： “That‘s for your insult， this morning，” he whispered as the blade went home. Peter swung to face Sopespian， slashed his legs from under him and， with the back.cut of the same stroke， walloped off his head Edmund was now at his side crying， “Narnia， Narnia！ The Lion！” The whole Telmarine army was rushing toward them. But now the Giant was stamping forward， stooping low and swinging his club. The Centaurs charged. Twang， twang behind andhiss， hiss overhead came the archery of Dwarfs. Trumpkinwas fighting at his left. Full battle was joined.
“Come back， Reepicheep， you little ass！” shouted Peter. “You’ll only be killed. This is no place for mice.” But the ridiculous little creatures were dancing in and out among the feet of both armies， jabbing with their swords. Many a Telmarine warrior that day felt his foot suddenly pierced as if by a dozen skewers， hopped on one leg cursing the pain， and fell as often as not. If he fell， the mice finished him off； if he did not， someone else did.
