“Sire，” he said. “You know how long I have lived and studied the stars； for we Centaurs live longer than you Men， and even longer than your kind， Unicorn. Never in all my days have I seen such terrible things written in the skies as there have been nightly since this year began. The stars say nothing of the coming of Aslan， nor of peace， nor of joy. I know by my art that there have not been such disastrous conjunctions of the planets for five hundred years.
“It was already in my mind to come and warn your ajesty that some great evil hangs over Narnia. But last ight the rumour reached me that Aslan is abroad in arnia. Sire， do not believe this tale. It cannot be. The ars never lie， but Men and Beasts do. If Aslan were really oming to Narnia the sky would have foretold it. If he were eally come， all the most gracious stars would be assembledhis honour. It is all a lie.”
“A lie！” said the King fiercely. “What creature in Narnia r all the world would dare to lie on such a matter？” And， ithout knowing it， he laid his hand on his sword hilt. “That I know not， Lord King，” said the Centaur. “But I now there are liars on earth； there are none among the ars.”
