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CHAPTERTWELVESORDSUDDENVENGEANCE
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MEANwhilfTrumpkiwoboysarrivedatthedarklittlestonearchwaywhitotheiheMound，aihewhitepattheircheekswereallEdmundcouldseeofthem）leapedupwithbaredteethaheminsnarlingvoices，“Whogoesthere?”
“Trumpkin，”
saidtheDwarf.“BringingtheHighKingofNarniaoutofthefarpast.”
Thebadgersheboys'hands.“Atlast，”
theysaid.“Atlast.”
“Giveusalight，friends，”
saidTrumpkin.
ThebadgersfoundatorsidetheardPeterlititarumpkin.“TheD.L.F.hadbetterlead，”
hesaid.“Wedon'tknowourwayaboutthisplace.”
Trumpkiortaheadiuwasacold，black，mustyplace，withanoalbatflutteriht，ayofcobwebs.Theboys，whohadbeenmostlyintheopenairsimattherailwaystatioasiftheyweregoingintoatraporaprison.
“Isay，Peter，”
whisperedEdmund.“Lookatthsonthewalls.Don'ttheylookold?Awe'reolderthanthat.erelasthere，theyhadn'tbeenmade.”
“Yes，”
saidPeter.“Thatmakesohink.”
TheDwarfweheheright，aheleft，andthendowheagaitheysawalightahead—lightfromunderadoor.Andnowforthefirsttimetheyheardvoices，fortheyhadetothedoorofthetralchamber.ThevoisidewereangryoalkingsoloudlythattheapproachoftheboysandtheDwarfhadnotbeenheard.
“Don'tlikethesoundofthat，”
whisperedTrumpki'slistenforamoment.”
Allthreestoodperfectlystillosideofthedoor.
“Youknowwellenough，”
saidavoice（“That'stheKing，”
whisperedTrumpkin），“whytheHornwasnotblownatsuhisHaveyottenthatMirazfelluponusalmostbeforeTrumpkinhadgone，aingforourlivesforthespaceofthreehoursandmore?IblewitwhenfirstIhadabreathingspace.”
“I'metit，”
cametheangryvoimyDwarfsborethebruaeihemfell.”
（“That'sNikabrik，”
whisperedTrumpkin.）
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