About three weeks later the last of the Kings of Narnia at under the great oak which grew beside the door of his ttle hunting lodge， where he often stayed for ten days or o in the pleasant spring weather. It was a low， thatched uilding not far from the Eastern end of Lantern Waste and ome way above the meeting of the two rivers. He loved to ve there simply and at ease， away from the state and pomp f Cair Paravel， the royal city. His name was King Tirian， nd he was between twenty and twenty.five years old； his houlders were already broad and strong and his limbs full f hard muscle， but his beard was still scanty. He had blue yes and a fearless， honest face.
There was no one with him that spring morning except is dearest friend， Jewel the Unicorn. They loved each other ke brothers and each had saved the other’s life in the wars. he lordly beast stood close beside the King‘s chair with its eck bent round， polishing its blue horn against the creamy hiteness of its flank.
“I cannot set myself to any work or sport today， Jewel，” aid the King. “I can think of nothing but this wonderful ews. Think you we shall hear any more of it today？”