“Mercy！ Mercy！” wailed the Beasts. “Spare us， Lord Shift， stand between us and Aslan， you must always go in and speak to him for us. We daren’t， we daren‘t.”
Ginger disappeared further up into the tree. No one ever saw him again.
Tirian stood with his hand on his sword.hilt and his head bowed. He was dazed with the horrors of that night. Sometimes he thought it would be best to draw his sword at once and rush upon the Calormenes： then next moment he thought it would be better to wait and see what new turn affairs might take. And now a new turn came.
“My Father，” came a clear， ringing voice from the left of the crowd. Tirian knew at once that it was one of the Calormenes speaking， for in the Tisroc’s army the common soldiers call the officers “My Master” but the officers call their senior officers “My Father”. Jill and Eustace didn‘t know this but， after looking this way and that， they saw the speaker， for of course people at the sides of the crowd were easier to see than people in the middle where the glare of the fire made all beyond it look rather black. He was young and tall and slender， and even rather beautiful in the dark， haughty， Calormene way.