The_Complete_Chronicles_of_Narnia_(volumes_1-7,_in_order_of_publication)

of the central chamber. The voices inside were angry ones. Someone was talking so
loudly that the approach of the boys and the Dwarf had not been heard.
"Don't like the sound of that," whispered Trumpkin to Peter. "Let's listen for a moment."
All three stood perfectly still on the outside of the door.
"You know well enough," said a voice ("That's the King," whispered Trumpkin), "why
the Horn was not blown at sunrise this morning. Have you forgotten that Miraz fell upon
us almost before Trumpkin had gone, and we were fighting for our lives for the space of
three hours and more? I blew it when first I had a breathing space."
"I'm not likely to forget it," came the angry voice, "when my Dwarfs bore the brunt of the
attack and one in five of them fell." ("That's Nikabrik," whispered Trumpkin.)
"For shame, Dwarf," came a thick voice ("Trufflehunter's," said Trumpkin). "We all did
as much as the Dwarfs and none more than the King."
"Tell that tale your own way for all I care," answered Nikabrik. "But whether it was that
the Horn was blown too late, or whether there was no magic in it, no help has come. You,
you great clerk, you master magician, you know-all; are you still asking us to hang our
hopes on Aslan and King Peter and all the rest of it?"
"I must confess - I cannot deny it - that I am deeply disappointed in the result of the
operation," came the answer. ("That'll be Doctor Cornelius," said Trumpkin.)
"To speak plainly," said Nikabrik, "your wallet's empty, your eggs addled, your fish
uncaught, your promises broken. Stand aside then and let others work. And that is why -"
"The help will come," said Trufflehunter. "I stand by Aslan. Have patience, like us
beasts. The help will come. It may be even now at the door."
"Pah!" snarled Nikabrik. "You badgers would have us wait till the sky falls and we can
all catch larks. I tell you we can't wait. Food is running short; we lose more than we can
afford at every encounter; our followers are slipping away."
"And why?" asked Trufflehunter. "I'll tell you why. Because it is noised among them that
we have called on the Kings of old and the Kings of old have not answered. The last
words Trumpkin spoke before he went (and went, most likely, to his death) were, `If you
must blow the Horn, do not let the army know why you blow it or what you hope from it.'
But that same evening everyone seemed to know."
"You'd better have shoved your grey snout in a hornets' nest, Badger, than suggest that I
am the blab," said Nikabrik. "Take it back, or-"
"Oh, stop it, both of you," said King Caspian. "I want to know what it is that Nikabrik
keeps on hinting we should do. But before that, I want to know who those two strangers