When Shasta fell off his horse he gave himself up for lost. But horses， even in battle， tread on human beings very much less than you would suppose. After a very horrible ten minutes or so Shasta realized suddenly that there were no longer any horses stamping about in the immediate neighbourhood and that the noise （for there were still a good many noises going on） was no longer that of a battle. He sat up and stared about him. Even he， little as he knew of battles， could soon see that the Archenlanders and Narnians had won. The only living Calormenes he could see were prisoners， the castle gates were wide open， and King Lune and King Edmund were shaking hands across the battering ram. From the circle of lords and warriors around them there arose a sound of breathless and excited， but obviously cheerful， conversation. And then， suddenly， it all united and swelled into a great roar of laughter.
Shasta picked himself up， feeling uncommonly stiff， and ran towards the sound to see what the joke was. A very curious sight met his eyes. The unfortunate Rabadash appeared to be suspended from the castle walls. His feet， which were about two feet from the ground， were kicking wildly. His chain-shirt was somehow hitched up so that it was horribly tight under the arms and came halfway over his face. In fact he looked just as a man looks if you catch him in the very actof getting into a stiff shirt that is a little too small for him. As far as could be made out afterwards （and you may be sure the story was well talked over for many a day） what happened was something like this. Early in the battle one of the Giants had made an unsuccessful stamp at Rabadash with his spiked boot： unsuccessful because it didn’t crush Rabadash， which was what the Giant had intended， but not quite useless because one of the spikes tore the chain mail， just as you or I might tear an ordinary shirt. So Rabadash， by the time he encountered Edmund at the gate， had a hole in the back of his hauberk. And when Edmund pressed him back nearer and nearer to the wall， he jumped up on a mounting block and stood there raining down blows on Edmund from above. But then， finding that this position， by raising him above the heads of everyone else， made him a mark for every arrow from the Narnian bows， he decided to jump down again. And he meant to
look and sound-no doubt for a moment he did look and sound-very grand and very dreadful as he jumped， crying， “The bolt of Tash falls from above.” But he had to jump sideways because the crowd in front of him left him no landing place in that direction. And then， in the neatest way you could wish， the tear in the back of his hauberk caught on a hook in the wall. （Ages ago this hook had had a ring in it for tying horses to.） And there he found himself， like a piece of washing hung up to dry， with everyone laughing at him.
“Let me down， Edmund，” howled Rabadash. “Let me down and fight me like a king and a man； or if you are too great a coward to do that， kill me at once.”
“Certainly，” began King Edmund， but King Lune interrupted.
“By your Majesty‘s good leave，” said King Lune to Edmund. “Not so.” Then turning to Rabadash he said， “Your royal Highness， if you had given that challenge a week ago， I’ll answer for it there was no one in King Edmund‘s dominion， from the High King down to the smallest Talking Mouse， who would have refused it. But by attacking our castle of Anvard in time of peace without defiance sent， you have proved yourself no knight， but a traitor， and one rather to be whipped by the hangman than to be suffered to cross swords with any person of honour. Take him down， bind him， and carry him within till our pleasure is further known.”
Strong hands wrenched Rabadash’s sword from him and he was carried away into the castle， shouting， threatening， cursing， and even crying. For though he could have faced torture he couldn‘t bear being made ridiculous. In Tashbaan everyone had always taken him seriously.
At that moment Corin ran up to Shasta， seized his hand and started dragging him towards King Lune. “Here he is， Father， here he is，” cried Corin.
“Aye， and here thou art， at last，” said the King in a very gruff voice. “And hast been in the battle， clean contrary to your obedience. A boy to break a father’s heart！ At your age a rod to your breech were fitter than a sword in your fist， ha！” But everyone， including Corin， could see that the King was very proud of him.
“Chide him no more， Sire， if it please you，” said Lord Darrin. “His Highness would not be your son if he did not inherit your conditions. It would grieve your Majesty more if he had to be reproved for the opposite fault.”
“Well， well，” grumbled the King. “We‘ll pass it over for this time. And now-”
What came next surprised Shasta as much as anything that had everhappened to him in his life. He found himself suddenly embraced in a bear-like hug by King Lune and kissed on both cheeks. Then the King set him down again and said， “Stand here together， boys， and let all the court see you. Hold up your heads. Now， gentlemen， look on them both. Has any man any doubts？”
And still Shasta could not understand why everyone stared at him and at Corin， nor what all the cheering was about.
中文阅读
大约十一点时，全军又开始行动，骑马朝左边的西部山脉挺进。科林和夏斯塔骑马走在后边，紧紧跟随着巨人。露西、埃德蒙和皮里丹忙于制订作战计划，只有露西问了一句：“那个傻小子殿下在哪儿？”埃德蒙回答：“不在前边，这真是个大好消息。不管他。”
夏斯塔向科林讲述了自己的历险故事，解释说，他是跟一匹马学习骑马的，因此不知道该如何使用缰绳。科林一边讲述他们是如何从塔西班乘船秘密逃离的，一边教他如何使用缰绳。
“苏珊女王在哪儿呢？”“在凯尔帕拉维尔，”科林说，“你要知道，她不像露西。露西是个男人婆，或者说像个假小子。苏珊女王更像一位大家闺秀。虽说是个神射手，她从不骑马征战。”