Holy Land

The rocky pool had turned black with blood and soot. Morning Breeze lay with his chin just above the water line. A reed mat kept him off the rough bottom. His face was covered with damp snow. Thin lines of vapor trailing from his nostrils were the only signs of life.

He had been called the Silent Prince, and not because he was mute. Otherwise he would not be the third. It was the title of the Prince in Baltimare, because Canterlot rarely heard from them. They never attended the Grand Galloping Gala, though they were invited every year without fail. They rarely recruited guards or attended summits inland. But they could always be trusted to be guardians of Equestria.

Baltimare had always been problematic when a prince or princess was needed. With so many ponies coming and going, it was rare for any one pony to rise to prominence. More often than not there was no Prince of Baltimare. Morning Breeze was the first one to be named while his predecessor was still living, and at first all signs pointed to a smooth transition of power.

The tide came in, diluting the bloody water. Morning Breeze sank completely below the surface.

Nopony in Equestria had known about Yellow Jack. His victims, thousands of them, had simply been written off as lost at sea. Nopony ever saw him. Maybe it would have been better for everyone if it had stayed that way. If Morning Breeze had not heard the tales from the lesser pirates he brought back to Baltimare, if he had been older and wiser, maybe he would have realized that some things were better left alone.

His heart slowed down, and soon the trail of bubbles from his nose ended. He did not feel cold.

Hornpipe fished him out of a clear pool and immediately wrapped him in a heavy blanket. The island of Indica was never formally settled. The pirates had built shelters on the hills in their early days and still maintained an emergency cache, but most of the time this sizable and not-too-rocky island remained uninhabited.

The remainder of the fleet, eight ships in total, were anchored in calm water not far offshore. The others had scattered, and Morning Breeze could not say how far they fled. Likely they were homeward-bound to bring news of the defeat.

“We’re outside his range,” Hornpipe reported as he applied new bandages to Morning Breeze’s wounds. “He’s a good sailor, but he doesn’t know one end of a mortar from the other, and he has no crew left. We already won.”

You don’t have to lie to me.

Hornpipe read the words in his eyes and smiled sheepishly.

“You’re not that kind of optimist,” he said, pinning the end of the bandage at his waist. He paused and looked out the single round window of the little lodge. “And you’re not that kind of emperor either. What were you trying to prove?”

Morning Breeze licked his lips with a parched tongue. His throat burned from cold, and he felt a great weight on his chest.

“I’m not him,” he whispered. “Nothing like him. Never.”

“We know,” Hornpipe said solemnly.

Breakfast was brought in by a unicorn youth in a bright orange exposure suit. The ragged green bandana over her mane made her look older. Hornpipe sent her away with a crinkled wax paper satchel of lemon drops in way of payment. Their meal was a simple porridge of oats flavored with some kind of fruit preserve, served in mismatched metal bowls.

Morning Breeze was about to pick up his bowl and try his luck holding the spoon with his bandaged hooves when a thunderous boom rattled the single room lodge.

Hooves came racing towards the shelter. Hornpipe stared at Morning Breeze with a look of amazement and trepidation. Morning Breeze was too tired to be properly surprised.

There came three calm, well-spaced knocks. It was an almost musical sound.

“Come in, Moondancer,” Morning Breeze whispered. “Did Alice summon you?”

The door opened slowly, and a tall mare entered. Even though her body was covered in a shapeless black cloak she was a study in beauty. Her coat was perfectly white, and the nearly iridescent pink of her mane was a pink shared with nothing in the world. Despite her slim build her face was not pointed or angular, nothing like the cold, indifferent masks of Canterlot models. Instead she had the kindly care-worn face of an older mare, experienced with the troubles of the world but not trodden down by them.

“Why did you think I wouldn’t show?” She asked in her gently, melodious voice. She hung her head and took a few breaths to calm herself before continuing. “Morning Breeze, I know what you think of me. You said it clear enough the last time we saw each other. What I did to you and Yellow Jack… it goes against everything we believe in. And I know you feel betrayed. But I’m here now. I’m not asking you to forget everything I did, but I accept you as family even if you don’t feel the same way. I offer you every resource at my disposal without restriction so that Yellow Jack may be contained.”

“Why don’t you do it?” Morning Breeze whispered. “He’s your son.”

“And that’s the answer,” she replied. She tried to come closer, but Hornpipe stood up defensively.

“And I should deal with him?” Morning Breeze tapped his chest with a bandaged hoof. “Me? Now that I know everything? I was fine before you and Jack got involved! I was happy! While you were living it up in Saddle Arabia and Jack was pillaging the islands, I grew up. I found a family. You threw me away, but I became something. I should have killed Jack the first time. That was all my fault, I’ll own up to it. I could have done it back then, but I didn’t, and now I can’t. I won’t. And you! Daughter of Princess Luna herself! You had all the time in the world, all that power, and you wouldn’t lift a hoof for twenty years! Now you expect me to be your obedient little grandson and run your errands?

“Do what you will, but I’ll have no part in it. You all made it abundantly clear that you didn’t want me—you never wanted me— so keep your family issues in the family.”

This had all been said before, of course. From beginning to end, it had been scripted since Moondancer had found him adrift and abandoned by his rebellious crew. Moondancer looked as mortified as she always did.

“Fine.” She sighed. “What do you want? Will you let Jack run amok just to spite me? I think you’re being unreasonable, and that you have nothing to offer me. I’ve built you an empire in these islands, and I’ve asked for very little. But name your price. More ships? More cities? Do you want your voice fixed? A beautiful, flawless coat? Do you want Saddle Arabia? I’ll give it to you, and all the trade routes extending from its ports. Alicorn powers? Anything for some peace with you.”

Morning Breeze looked into his bowl. It was all silly and meaningless bluffing, and he did not feel any better for it. He could not stand being in Moondancer’s presence, and her patience was not infinite either. In the best of times he had treated her coldly. It might have been petty and petulant, but in the moment he had always felt justified.

“Come here,” Morning Breeze said finally. “I’m going to ask for something; many things. Nothing for me personally. Pledge them to me, and you will have my help.”

Gingersnap enjoyed the morning immensely. After five days of storms the watch roused everyone early to see the sun. It was dim and grey, with no power against the biting wind that filled their sail, yet they were heartened all the same. Old sailors who looked incapable of smiling elbowed each other and laughed over private jokes, and there were moments during breakfast when Gingersnap felt that he was among old crewmates and friends.

By eleven o’clock (the pirates were casual with their timekeeping, and Gingersnap had no timepiece of his own) the forward watch spotted land. The Island of Fiddlehead supported three towns, two on the coast and one in the highlands. Runners were sent out as soon as the fleet landed, and by late afternoon the spacious harbor was full of sailors and soldiers. Gingersnap had never seen so many marines in one place. There were more in that harbor than Baltimare’s barracks could house. The crew of the Nephthys brought aboard supplies faster than he could fill in his inventory sheet, and a few times he caught himself counting warships instead of sacks of oats.

“I suppose you don’t know much about Jack,” the quartermaster said suddenly. “You wouldn’t be so surprised otherwise.”

“He’s just one pony, right?” Gingersnap asked through the pencil between his teeth.

“An alicorn is also just one pony technically; doesn’t mean you can fight one,” said the griffin. He was eating a large raw salmon, and try as he might Gingersnap could not look at him with a straight face. He was using the fish as an extension of his hand, letting it flop around as he gestured at the harbor. “Jack is what’s called a Nephilim. That’s not a word you’ll see in Equestria, because they don’t exist there.

“He’s the youngest son of one of the Children of the Night and Shining Beacon. In terms that you can understand, he’s Princess Luna’s grandson.”

Gingersnap was about to object, but was stopped by the half-eaten fish flopping onto his muzzle and blocking his eyes.

“Write down eight palates of tinned fruit,” he heard the quartermaster say. “You really don’t know anything then. That can be forgiven, seeing how Equestria remembers nothing. The Children of the Night are Luna’s children, all alicorns. Shining Beacon was a unicorn, a great pirate king. The first capital letters Pirate King, actually. His fleet was thousands strong, and he had an alicorn on his side. By his side. The other Children of the Night liked him too. The world was spread before him, and the only reason Equestria still exists is because he just wasn’t interested in that territory. It’s all land. You can’t sail from Baltimare to Canterlot, and what’s the fun in that? Well, that and when his two oldest sons turned on him.

“He had four children, all from the same mother, three sons and one daughter. The short version is that the two older boys got along real well, and Jack and his sister were also a pair. Jack was maybe fourteen when this all happened, and he and his sister escaped with their mother and about a third of the fleet. That’s a lot more ships than the Equestrian Navy, and of course their mother had connections. Jack and his sister regrouped and attacked their brothers. It was a single epic battle that lasted nearly a month, and left half a million dead. The bodies and shipwrecks formed an island all to themselves. Only a few dozen ships from Shining Beacon’s fleet survived, and of his children only Jack was left.

“After that Jack’s mother tried to take him home, but he wouldn’t go. And so she gave him some time alone to heal at his own pace, but when you’re that kind of royalty everything gets blown completely out of proportion. Jack sailed around Equestria’s islands with all the wealth anyone could ever want. But that could never satisfy a pony like him.

“He became a terror to sailors. Nobody that sees his fleet on the horizon ever returns, and I mean it. His name was unknown in Equestria. For thirty years he reigned, preying upon merchants and navy alike. Froom Equestria’s point of view their ships were lost at sea or simple vanished, and nobody could say otherwise. This was before the Children of the Night appeared in Equestria again, before they made peace with Celestia.

“Around this time Morning Breeze came of age at the Baltimare Orphanage, as in he was old enough to join the Naval Academy. And while others were born into nobility his was entirely of his own making. He was a freediver, and by that point he had made a fortune from selling pearls. But no one knew back then where he came from, and that was suspicious. In Baltimare, you see, you can parade down the streets with a thousand pure white attendants, shedding gems and crown jewels from Celestia’s own chariot, but you’ll not get an audience with the lowliest baron if you can’t name your relations.”

Gingersnap winced at this mention of Baltimare, and would have told the griffin just how well he knew the prejudices of Baltimare if he had not kept talking.

“He was turned away that year, and that made all the difference in the world. If they’d let him in he would not have gone back to pearl diving. He would not have become so close with Gold Standard. If they had let him in then, he would not have met Princess Celestia the way he did. She would not have named him a Prince, and a lot of the old admirals of the Baltimare Fleet would still be alive. He would not have taken the voyages that he did, and he would not have brought Jack back to Baltimare all charred and bound in chains. And he wouldn’t know…”

“That’s enough, Gerald.”

Gingersnap jumped. Posing as a common deck hoof, Moonlight had snuck aboard her own ship beneath a hundred pound sack of onions.

“Some of Yellow Jack’s old crew are here,” she reported. “They’re under house arrest now, and they’re cooperating. We have twenty thousand marines, but only space for less than two thousand. Captain Block is offering the Wayward Son. He promised to be outfitted by 2100.”

Gerald clicked his beak nervously.

“Captain Block himself?” He said. The fish with its midsection stripped of flesh snapped at the spine. The head along with a considerable amount of meat fell with a wet splat onto the deck.

“Captain Block himself in his flagship,” Moonlight said, glancing over her shoulder towards the town. “A ship without a Master since Swiftwater passed away, but he insisted on coming with us.”

“We’ll have no shortage of firepower at least,” Gerald mumbled.

“How are things looking here, Gingersnap?”

“A few more things to go,” he reported, quickly flipping through the pages on his clipboard. “We have two sets of spare sails, and enough cloth and thread to make five more. The spare anchors are stowed. We have chains, rope, fresh water… spare oars.”

“What’s the matter?” Moonlight asked in a softer tone, leaning in like she was examining a child.

“Nothing, Ma’am,” he said quickly, straightening his neck at attention.

“He’s surprised, that’s all.” Gerald chuckled. “Never seen a ship like this before. How could he? Equestria never had galleys like this, and he’s too young to remember when this one was impounded.”

Never had Gingersnap been so thankful for his jumpsuit as the griffin slapped his slimy palm on his shoulder.

“This here is a galley, and not just any galley. This was the Royal galley of Prince Zephaniah during his rebellion against his brother the Pharaoh of the Immortal Dunes. Seven years he sailed, terrorizing merchant ships of the tropics, until the letter came from Celestia. She would turn a blind eye if we happened to encounter Zephaniah’s fleet and things got out of hand. And if Zephaniah’s treasure was lost at sea, so be it.”

Gerald winked after every other word and ruffled his wings. Even so, Gingersnap did not realize his implication until after Moonlight hauled him below deck.

On shore a battalion of griffins and pegasi took flight. The thunder of their wings rolled across the harbor. Gingersnap ducked under the gunwale and squeezed his eyes shut until they had landed onboard their ship.

Let me live. Just let me live.