Coco

On her first night on Nutmeg, after convincing Jig and Brig it was a good idea to make her a late dinner, Coco invoked the wind spirit Caelum, and the sea god Noerthus. Coco didn't consider herself a religious or even a spiritual pony, but she really wanted to get to Adin, and fast. The less time they spent in Zebradom, the faster they'd get home.

She awoke to strong winds; Spar told her they'd come up during the night. I guess there are still powers listening to us mortals, Coco thought. Or perhaps it had to do with Caballeron, and his story of strange fortunes befalling him. Maybe, maybe not. “This is certainly unusual,” Spar had said, “but I won't complain.”

Whatever the truth was, the wind was on their side. Coco stepped onto the deck from under the wheelhouse, and was immediately buffeted by the warm wind. The auxiliary sails were at full, closely watched by the crew, and the funnel billowed smoke. She didn't stay outside long, the hot sun and hot air sweeping the ship did not mix well with her winter fur.

So, back down below-decks it was. Unfortunately, she didn't have much to do other than read some books she brought. One was a modernized retelling of an ancient tragedy of two star-crossed lovers, taking place entirely within the west side of Manehatten; word was that they were making it into a musical. The other was a romantic novel her friend Rarity had enjoyed very much, and recommended in a letter; she decided to give that a try. She read it for the better part of two hours before Coco started blushing furiously; she had discovered just why Rarity had liked it so much. Coco closed it quickly, and decided to do something else entirely.

In the mess hall, she found Captain Billet waiting on a mug of coffee. “It's only early afternoon, Captain.” Coco said to him.

“I fear I'm hooked, Miss Pommel!” Billet replied enthusiastically. “Hooked, like a pirate hook. Do you want some?”

“Oh, no. No thank you.” she refused, trying not to look repulsed. Memories of her ordeals with that horrible Suri came back. Some nights she lay awake and wondered why she had never quit sooner. “I can't stand coffee after having to deal with my last boss...”

“Fair enough.” And without even a pause, he launched into another subject entirely. “Where's that coltfriend of yours, anyway? I haven't seen him around all day.”

“It's not like that, Captain, I only met him yesterday-”

“You two were up pretty late last night, I heard from Jig.” Billet got a sly grin on his face.

“I don't like what you're implying.” Coco narrowed her eyes, giving the sternest stare she could up at the pegasus. And then, as if summoned by his name like a demon of old, Caballeron emerged from around the corner.

“We were only talking.” the Doctor stated coolly. “We're not even on a first name basis. Stop flustering the lady, Captain.”

“I'm not flustered.” muttered Coco.

“Alright, alright.” said Captain Billet. “No need to get so touchy...” He then retreated out of the mess hall, leaving the two alone. Something the Captain had said came back to her mind.

“Where have you been all day, anyway?” she asked.

“Enjoying the weather up above.” answered Caballeron.

“I wouldn't call it enjoyable,” said Coco, looking at the winter fluff of her fur, “at least not in my current condition.”

“Therein lies the problem of vacations to the tropics at this time of year.” Caballeron stated.

The rest of the day passed uneventfully for Coco; she explored what parts of the ship that she could, and then went back to her cabin. Before boredom possessed her to read that book of Rarity's, Quartermaster Forestay came to her, requesting her to inspect the extra auxiliary sails for damage. She spent the rest of the day in the hold, applying patches where needed. I guess this is how I pay my passage, she noted.

“How do you do that?” wondered Forestay, watching her sew. “I've seen unicorns use their magic for this, but never an earth pony.”

“It takes practice and talent.” Coco told him. “I guess I've got plenty of both.”

Another day passed, more or less the same. She awoke in the middle of the night; Nutmeg was no longer gently rolling. A peek out of her cabin's porthole revealed the light of a city, and dark shapes took on the resemblance of buildings and ships. They'd arrived in Adin. Coco had barely been asleep for more than a minute, so it seemed, before there was knocking at her door.

“Ugh...” she groaned, before she heard the voice of Caballeron.

“Miss Pommel, would you like to see Adin before we leave? The sun hasn't risen yet, so it's still quite cool.”

“Hmm... Fine.” agreed Coco, rolling over to look at the clock. Five forty-one. “Just give me a few minutes...”

Later, as they walked down the gangplank, Caballeron said: “This is the chance of a lifetime, Miss Pommel. While you upper class ponies might go to Saint Garnet, few ponies of any class ever come to Adin, aside from mariners and merchants.”

“You don't need to convince me, Doctor.” Coco replied, shaking her head to ward off falling into a doze. Even at this early hour, the dock was active. Caballeron told her a little about the city. Despite Adin belonging to Zebradom, most of the city's population were Aravian horses; taller, lither, and longer-snouted than Equestrian ponies, with no cutie marks. They were ruled by zebras of course, though the Aravians were getting anxious for independence, or at least autonomy. The horses of Adin wanted to be free as their northerly neighbors in the desert kingdom of Sadel Araveh, often mistakenly called Saddle Arabia by ponies.

“Isn't Zebradom just a name for a collection of de facto independent states though? How could you get more autonomous than that?” asked Coco.

“It's complicated.” sighed Caballeron. “Local politics are made even more muddied by the tribal conflicts of the Aravians. They were a united nation, long ago, but the march of time turns all to dust, and some fell under Zebric influence, others did not.”

True enough, Coco saw that the town authorities were all zebras, while the commoners seemed to be all Aravians. She spotted a few griffons, which wasn't unusual; griffons were a wide-ranging people. There was something fascinating about the Aravians, Coco noted: they all wore clothes. Clothes were luxury goods in Equestria, for ponies like her to make on the whims of their clients, but here they seemed a mainstay. Some word rich and dark colors, embroidered with cloth-of-gold; some wore simple white drapings. No doubt they were the ones who spent time in the sun.

There was something else she noticed, too. “Doctor,” Coco said, “there sure are a lot of chessboards sitting around out here.”

“Chess is the most popular sport in all of Zebradom.” Caballeron said. “Aravian tribals, zebra kings, griffon mercenaries, and until recently Rattish sailors found themselves all sitting around the same board, social differences nullified by a game of wits and strategy.”

“You know,” commented Coco, smiling to herself, “my grandfather taught me to play chess. I could never manage to beat him. He was good. Very good.”

“I wouldn't start a game here, if that's what you're thinking. They take hours when things get serious.” said Caballeron.

“That's for certain!” Coco laughed, recalling fond memories.

Caballeron and she walked around town until the stores began to open, just after sunrise. The first place they visited what seemed to be a bookstore. She could immediately tell this place was more than a bookstore. Caballeron told her it was a rare bookstore, famed throughout all the known world, with volumes being offered at thousands, or even tens of thousands of bits. When Coco opened one of the books, she was disappointed at the contents. “Somepony's drawn worms and dots all over this book's pages!” she told Caballeron indignantly.

“That would be the Aravian alphabet, Miss Pommel.” Caballeron corrected her. For a few moments, Coco was left stumped at how such gibberish could even form letters. She changed the topic and asked why exactly they'd come to this place. “I'm looking for The Doom in the East, the griffon saga I mentioned a few nights ago. Perhaps they have a copy here I could look at?”

But alas, the bookkeeper informed him that they had not had The Doom in the East for many decades. There were only two surviving copies of it, in fact: one kept by the griffons in the High King's library, and one which had found its way to them from farther south, and had been bought by an Equestrian collector over thirty years ago.

“It was worth a try.” Coco said. Two more hours passed; the two ponies saw what there was to see in the city. They made a point of avoiding the coffee market. Instead, Caballeron dragged her to a bazaar full of little odd trinkets; and Coco dragged him to the tailor's bazaar. He learned the difference between linen and cotton, and she learned what a hurdy gurdy was. It's the most annoying instrument in the world! Coco had declared silently, while wincing at the groaning drone the strange thing made.

They returned to the docks, where Coco saw notices like the ones in Saint Garnet. But they were warning posted from the office of the Prince of Adin, warning of Rattish aggression in local waters. “Hopefully we won't run into any of that...” she told Caballeron.

“Hopefully not. We're under the Crown's protection, the wrath of Celestia is enough to strike fear into any pirate's heart. But that'd be just the thing to ruin today, wouldn't it?” he asked.

“It sounds like you've been enjoying this detour.” said Coco.

“Maybe I have, Miss Pommel.” Caballeron replied. “A little break from the stresses of travel can be just the thing one needs.” They ascended the gangplank, where Captain Billet was overseeing the last of their new cargo being loaded. Crate after crate of coffee grounds was being stashed in Nutmeg's hold. Apparently, the Captain and his merchant friend had sorted everything out while they saw the city. Something else occurred to her. He's been only using my last name since we met...

“Doctor,” began she, with the best friendly smile she could summon, “I think you know me well enough to just call me Coco, now.”

“Do I?” Caballeron looked thoughtful. “If you say so. I'd return the privilege, but I only have one name... So I guess you can drop the 'Doctor.'”

Coco remembered the name Captain Billet had called him. “How about I call you Cabal, for short?” she suggested.

“You too?” sighed Caballeron. Coco couldn't help but giggle at the resigned expression he had. “Fine...”

By nine in the morning, their voyage had resumed. They'd only been in Adin for four hours, or a little more, but the exotic sights were something she wouldn't forget in a long time. Coco got to see the surrounding land as they sailed out of the harbor; Adin still had its ancient walls. In the distance were low mountains, sloping down to the sea; barren and rocky, devoid of all life but for some hardy shrubs and dwarf trees with nary a leaf on them. Even at this hour, the heat was rising fast. She was glad they weren't sticking around for the afternoon.

Spar reported that they'd make it to Manehatten in time for her meeting, with some more good fortune. The wind was coming in from a new direction, but it was enough to catch the auxiliary sails well enough. For a few more hours, everything was well.

And then, somepony saw sails on the horizon. It was a few minutes before Coco could even make anything out other than a little speck, but the sailors with binoculars were muttering about the lack of flags.

“What's going on out here?” Caballeron asked, coming up from below-decks.

“There's a ship headed for us, with no markings.” Spar said from the starboard bridge wing of the wheelhouse, frowning grimly at the shape coming towards them.

“Hell's bells.” muttered Quartermaster Forestay, who also had made an appearance.

“Spar!” barked Captain Billet, emerging from the wheelhouse. “Do you recognize her?”

“No, Captain!” replied Spar. “But she doesn't look like a merchant. Something isn't quite right.”

“I fear the worse.” Caballeron said quietly. Coco's stomach twisted, and she couldn't help but let her ears fall back. The mystery ship drew closer and closer, until Coco could make out a black hull, and three tall masts with white sails. She recognized it as a windjammer, a steel-hulled, purely wind-propelled ship, made for long voyages. Something poked out from the gunwale, and Coco only heard the crack of the cannon after she saw the flash. A sizzling roar followed as the shell arced over Nutmeg, and crashed into the sea far beyond them.

“They're signaling!” Spar shouted for all to hear. A spotlight on the windjammer started blinking, in the international light-code. “Equestrian ship,” he recited, “heave to and prepare to be boarded.”

“They've fired their warning shot,” Forestay said to Coco, “we can either surrender or try to flee. But the next one won't miss.”

“Do as they say.” ordered Captain Billet, but Spar hesitated. “Do it! If they're following the rules of war at sea, they can't do anything to harm us.”

The windjammer was now close enough that Coco could see the figures aboard her. A flag was finally raised: a skeletal tree, wreathed in flame, upon a black field. The banner of the Rattish State, Coco recognized.

Fate once more turned against her.

Author's Note

I'm sure the flag of Hivald looks cooler in my head than it would in real life. Oh well. Here's what a hurdy gurdy sounds like, for the record. I think it's a cool-sounding instrument, but I seem to be in the minority when I show this video to people.