Holy Land

Thirty pounds of chains and shackles held him between two load-bearing beams in the brig. Fresh sutures held his swollen nose together. He had witnessed three changing of the guards through the night. Said guards were invariably broad-shouldered earth ponies spilling out of their navy jackets. Such a physique was unachievable on a sailor’s diet of hardtack and thin soups.

It was an hour after sunrise, but he did not know it until the captain came in through the hatch with a unicorn mare behind him.

Winter Oat, as he had called himself earlier that night, was a white unicorn with straw-colored eyes and mane. At the moment his neck was wrapped in bandages with a bit of red seeping through. His dark blue jacket was open at the front, and he had left his hat behind. Morning Breeze thought it an unbecoming look for a captain.

“So here you are,” he said. His usually deep, unwavering voice was much weakened. He coughed and clutched the bandages.

“Yeah.” One of the guards raised an eyebrow at the sound of that voice. It was soft and throaty, with not a hint of power behind it despite the stallion’s healthy frame.

“Morning Breeze,” Winter Oat said when he recovered. “You don’t know how much trouble you’ve caused.”

“Of course I know.” Breeze sneered and spat at the pristine deck of the never-before-used brig. “Why do you think I started in the first place? Now go on. Where’s the sword? You’re not going to chew my head off, are you?”

Winter Oat cocked his head.

“I’m wanted dead,” Breeze said. “Do you really think I don’t know anything? But if you’re going to listen to me…”

“I’m not here for your games,” Winter Oat said. “I’m bringing you in.”

Breeze frowned.

“Why would you do that?” He asked slowly. “Who wants me?”

Winter Oat sighed and stepped closer to Morning Breeze.

“What happened to you?” He said, looking deep into the chestnut brown eyes of his prisoner. “Breeze, you don’t know what I’m risking by bringing you alive to Baltimare. My crew has spent four months in these waters searching for you.”

Morning Breeze’s eyes widened in surprise.

“Ponies spent millions of bits, just to find you,” Winter Oat continued. “If anyone else had led this mission, you would have come out of the water last night with quite a few more bolts in you. I’m going to be court-marshaled when I get back to Baltimare, but I’ll risk it to give you even a slim chance of going home.

“The way I see it, you made one big mistake fifteen years ago, and you’ve been making it worse ever since. Just one mistake! I know you were one of Princess Celestia's favorites. You were the great pirate hunter! Celestia's own explorer! She used to make trips to Baltimare to see your ship come in. That has to mean something to you, even now, even after all these years. If someone had given you a chance to turn back at any point in this whole mess, wouldn’t you take it? Don’t you want to go home? To see your brothers and sisters again? Your mother? The one who ransomed you to begin with? Don't you think you owe it to her, after all she's done for you, to not go out like this?”

Breeze stared at the captain blankly. Then he closed his eyes and let out a long sigh.

“You are kind, captain,” he said. “It’s true. I dream of my family- my big family. I had thousands of brothers and sisters, and other relations too. And old friends that I left in Equestria. I dream of Baltimare. But I can’t go back yet. Not like this. And if you care about Equestria, about your own family, you would let me go right now. Spare me a dory if you can, or drop me overboard if you can’t. But if I go with you, Equestria is doomed.”

“Because you got to Baltimare?” Winter Oat said.

“No,” Morning Breeze replied. “Because I won't be here.”

The two stallions stared each other down for several seconds before Winter Oat turned away.

“Untie him and get him breakfast,” he ordered. “Bring him on deck when he’s ready.”

The guards took their time unlocking his restraints, and dropped him unceremoniously onto the deck without fully loosening the chains. The well-oiled hinges didn’t make a sound as the door closed.

Morning Breeze rolled around awkwardly, straining against the chains until they came fully loose. The painkillers had worn off hours ago, and now he felt like he had lost his hoof altogether. His mouth was dry, and he had a headache.

The guards did not return immediately. Minutes, and then hours passed, and Breeze grew more and more uncomfortable. He tried the door and the grated walls, but the whole ship seemed to be brand new.

He tapped the hull with his good hoof. It was thicker than the standard, but it would do. Breeze drummed out a long pattern of long and short beats, hitting the hull as hard as he could. He only got through it once before he was utterly exhausted.

Finally the door to the cabins opened and the guards returned, but they were not carrying food. Instead each had a crossbow slung over their shoulder, and a bolo knife at their side. The one that came in last had a coil of rope.

Gingersnap rested his head on a crate as he lifted another section of the endless anchor chain. The doctor had cleared him at eleven hundred hours, and the quartermaster found him soon after. He was sent to the machine room behind the prow, where Coral Frond had already been working for a few hours.

Coral Frond was a gregarious unicorn. Unlike most of his crewmates he opted to keep his yellow mane long and tied in a topknot. He had an earthy-red coat, and was probably the only unicorn who wore an eyepatch.

“Do you think it’s him?” He asked as he scrubbed an algae-encrusted link with steel wool. “I didn’t see him last night, but you were there. Did he look like the pictures?”

“I don’t know,” Gingersnap said. “Last night is pretty hazy in my head. He was wearing that suit, so I couldn’t see his cutie mark. And those pictures are almost twenty years old. I’m pretty sure he didn’t have a beard when he was seventeen. What did the captain say?”

“Nothing at all,” Coral Frond said, shrugging. “He went back to his cabin, after the brig, and he hasn’t come out. The mate isn’t talking either. But it has to be him, right?”

“It could be a lot of things, but I don't think it's him,” Gingersnap said, dropping his work and closing his eyes to ease a sudden wave of sickness. “Morning Breeze isn’t the only pirate in the world, and I don’t think we’d find him wrecked in open water. Somebody attacked this guy. No wind can break a mast like that, and we’re nowhere near a reef. And if he’s Morning Breeze, why didn’t whoever attacked him look for a body? He has a five million bit bounty in Baltimare, and he was just floating there in plain sight.”

“So who do we have in the brig?”

“Some common pirate, probably,” Gingersnap said, grinding his hooves into his eyes until he saw flashes of white. “If Morning Breeze was easy to find, we wouldn’t be looking for him in the first place.”

“But it could be him, right?” Coral Frond asked. “I hope it’s him, because I want to go home. You know, when I agreed to two years on this ship, I didn’t think they were serious. Two months, sure, but years? Non-stop? There are other things I want to do with my life. But now we’ve gone almost six months without making port. It’s driving me crazy.”

Gingersnap sat up and peered out the slot in the hull. The fog had cleared through the night to reveal a bright albeit chilly day. Dark clouds loomed on the very edge of horizon to the north, but there was no land to be seen.

The Spectre was a ship unlike any other. Technically it was a barquentine, sixty metres long with fifty cannons. But the hull was wider than was normal to provide a shallow draught, and was split into two halves below the water. The sails were dyed blue—Very expensive, not doubt—but the strangest part of all was the glassy material that covered every inch of the hull. It had been put on as panels trimmed so precisely that the seams could not be seen in most places. It was exceptionally sturdy; early in the voyage another sailor had tried to mark it with a pocket knife and dulled it thoroughly without making a scratch. Nothing grew on it either; the last time Gingersnap went down in a dory he had made a note to check for barnacles or algae below the water line, and found nothing of the sort.

The panels were the key to the Spectre’s success. Gingersnap had not the slightest clue what they were made of, but it had to be magical. Almost every week they spotted another ship or a distant island, yet they had gotten no trouble. They were pirate ships; there was no doubt about that. Over six hundred miles from Equestrian waters, traders and even the EUP had no reason to be in the Chain Islands. Even before Morning Breeze set up shop in the region it had been a forbidden place for sensible sailors. There were no maps, and stories abounded of monsters that lurked here.

“It’s not that bad,” Gingersnap said, cracking his neck before resuming his work. “As long as they keep giving me canned peaches, I’m happy. And just think: four more months, and we’ll have the record for the longest non-stop voyage. We’ll make history and bring back the pirate king. And Captain Winter Oat isn’t one of those ponies who like to break contracts. The bounty’ll be more than our pay.”

A long shadow fell over the floor of the machine room. Gingersnap followed Coral Frond’s gaze to the top of the ladder, where two burly ponies stood. They were extra sailors, assigned to the mission by the admiralty. Mercenaries, in other words; everypony knew it, and Captain Winter Oat had fought long and hard to get rid of as many as possible. In the end only twenty out of the initial forty were onboard when the Spectre left Baltimare, and only because they were paid entirely out of funds beyond Winter Oat’s control. They had proven to be mediocre sailors just as expected, and did nothing for morale. The rest of the crew stayed out of their way as much as possible, and Captain Winter Oat had grown more and more reluctant to use them as time went on.

“Hey Stone Chain,” Coral Frond said, standing up slowly and squinting past the first pony. He was a grey earth pony with a shaved head. His jacket, an extra-large, could not be buttoned up over his bulky chest. A long curved knife dangled from his belt.

Coral Frond backed away one tiny step when the big pony started to descend the ladder. Gingersnap stood up too. He could not help but lower his head. His legs felt weak, but he was getting ready to run. Something felt wrong.

“What do you want?” He asked, trying not to sound defensive. “Is it lunch time?”

“Yeah,” Stone Chain said. He had a chip in his teeth. “The captain said I should escort you, seeing you’re hurt and all.”

“Alright then,” Gingersnap said.

The pony at the top of the ladder turned his head, and cried out in surprise when a blinding bolt of magic threw him into the engine room. Gingersnap jumped out of the way as his smoking body hit the deck. Stone Chain had his weapon out in an instant, but Coral Frond charged into him at full speed. The knife fell to the deck. Stone Chain screamed when he landed heavily on top of the spare anchor.

The other pony was slowly getting up. Gingersnap fumbled with the dropped knife as the much larger pony sat up with one hoof on his head.

“Stay down!” He ordered, brandishing the knife ready to swing.

He was met with a sharp kick to the ribs. He dropped the knife, but the big pony was hit with another blast of magic before he could stand.

Doubled over in pain, Gingersnap heard Coral Frond’s muffled voice. He forced one eye open.

Stone Chain had the young unicorn in a headlock. The latter was trying to break his grip, but Stone Chain’s front leg was almost as thick as his victim's waist. He had his free hoof on Coral Frond’s muzzle, and was slowly pushing his head to the side. Coral Frond struggled to twist his neck in the opposite direction. His mouth was open as wide as it would go, but his captor’s hoof was out of his reach.

Clenching his jaw, Gingersnap got up and stumbled towards the pair. He grabbed the kukri off the deck and threw himself at Stone Chain.

The blade sank deep into his shoulder. With a long scream he threw Coral Frond away and reached for his wound out of reflex. Gingersnap caught him and began to back away from the thug in front of him, until another blast of magic startled him.

Snowsong was halfway down the ladder, glaring at the smoking pony curled up near the anchor. Bruises showed through her white coat, and her jacket was torn. Her golden eyes passed over the two young sailors, and for a second her gaze softened.

“There’s been a mutiny,” she said. “It’s the mercs.”

“What are your orders, ma’am?” Gingersnap asked, gently setting Coral Frond down on the deck where he immediately began checking his head and neck.

“Take those knives and…” Snowsong paused to fire off two more shots, one at the pony she had taken down, and the other at a rallied Stone Chain. “Clear them out. Don’t let them get to the armory.”

Gingersnap quickly took the clean weapon off the pony lying at the bottom of the ladder. Amazingly he was not yet out of the fight. His eyes opened when Gingersnap was still within range, and would have grabbed him had Snowsong not been as attentive as she was. Gingersnap leapt back just as another magical blast struck the big pony.

“Hey, Coral Frond,” he said, shaking him out of his shocked torpor. “Come on. We have our orders.”

Coral Frond nodded, his mouth still hanging open. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw Stone Chain struggling to get up yet again. Jumping to his feet, he lowered his head and fired off a spell of his own. Stone Chain hit the bulkhead hard enough to rattle the pots and pans in the galley on the other side.

Snowsong came off the ladder to let the other sailors pass. Her attention was divided between the mercenaries in the room.

“Spells aren’t working like they should,” she said as Coral Frond passed. “If you’re going to hit them, hit them hard.”

For a mutiny the deck was surprisingly calm. The pilot on duty was still at the wheel, and the navigator was even checking her sextant. There was a pegasus on lookout at the top of the highest mast. Upon closer inspection however, Gingersnap saw that the pegasus had a crossbow in his lap.

“Check below deck,” he called, waving at Gingersnap and Coral Frond. “They’re below deck. There!”

Coral Frond ducked, but the pegasus was aiming nowhere near him. Gingersnap cringed at the sound of impact. It was not the hollow ringing of a bolt hitting wood.

“Come on,” he managed to say, taking Coral Frond’s hoof. His mouth was suddenly dry.

Coral Frond kept his horn pointed forward the whole way to the next deckhouse. The door was hanging off its hinges. It was the radio room. Three shelves formed an alcove behind the floor-to-ceiling radio. Gingersnap was sure that somepony was hiding there waiting to pounce.

“Stay here,” he whispered. “If somepony jumps me when I’m in there, blast him.”

He ran into the room with the knife raised over his head. There was nopony behind the bookshelf. He gestured for Coral Frond to follow him as he neared the steep steps leading down into the crew quarters. The lanterns had all been put out. The only light came from tiny portholes. Leaning closer to the open hatch, Gingersnap could make out several voices coming from the deck below. They were gathered in front of the armory door.

“We’re going to the armory first,” Gingersnap said. “I think those are mercs down there. Stay quiet. Don’t shoot until we can be sure.”

Fortunately the metal steps made no sound as they descended. The backing prevented anypony on the other side form seeing them. Coral Frond flipped up his eyepatch and cautiously peered over the side of the steps.

He was thrown to the side by a single crossbow bolt. It struck his horn and ricocheted into the deck. He got up immediately and fired off five bolts of bright red energy in rapid succession. Gingersnap took this moment to charge down the hall. As it turned out, a twenty metre dash was much less feasible when faced with a firing line. The mercenaries were facing a closed armory, but they had managed to arm themselves to an extent before the crew caught on. Coral Frond’s aim was less than stellar; two of five ponies had assumed a position behind broad pillars and were aiming down the narrow hall between the alcoves. Suddenly feeling panicked, Gingersnap leapt onto one of the beds and out of the shooters’ line of sight.

Coral Frond resumed his barrage as soon as Gingersnap was out of the line of fire, but his magic did little beyond knocking the mutineers back. The blasts scattered crossbow bolts everywhere and stopped them from firing, but there would still be five very angry armed mercenaries as soon as he stopped attacking.

“Get to the door!” Gingersnap yelled to Coral Frond. Dropping onto the deck, he crawled out of the alcove on his stomach. “Retreat!”

Coral Frond stood his ground until Gingersnap got past him, and then started backing away. His eyes were squeezed shut in concentration.

They retreated past the heads to a heavy door reinforced with metal. Gingersnap did not recall ever going through it before. Fortunately it was unlocked. He pushed it open and pulled Coral Frond through. The unicorn’s magic fizzled out, and he collapsed on the deck as Gingersnap put his weight on the door.

“What the heck went wrong?”

“I don’t know!” Coral Frond said, rubbing his head. “I was trying to stun them! I’m sure I got the spell right.”

“Alright, so there’s something weird about these guys,” Gingersnap dragged a crate over to block the door. “Let’s get back on deck. Where are we any…”

He trailed off as he turned away from the door. His eyes widened, and his ears drooped.

Four mercenaries were staring at them. They had replaced their ill-fitting uniforms with padded jackets.

Inside one of the cells, hardly visible through the thick bars was Morning Breeze. He was hanging upside down with his front hooves bound behind his back. Water dripped from his mane.

“Get them!” Gingersnap screamed, and charge forwards clumsily with the knife.

It was hopeless from the start, he knew. The mercenaries had more than enough warning, and Coral Frond was too tired to back him up with his spells.

He did not know exactly how it happened, but it hurt a lot. When Gingersnap came to he was sprawled on the floor with a persistent pounding in his head. Coral Frond was propped against the bars of the cell. Morning Breeze still dangled from the ceiling. Blood dripped out of his nostrils, and his eyes were swollen shut.

A huge yellow pony took up the rest of the cell. He was missing a few teeth, and his nose was covered with little scars. He was wearing a lot of cologne, but it did not mask the smell of tobacco completely.

Gingersnap gripped his head with both hooves and squeezed his eyes shut. The deep drumming made it impossible to focus.

“It’s nothing personal,” he said when he noticed Gingersnap looking up at him.

He raised his bolo over his head.

“GET IN HERE NOW!”

Morning Breeze’s scream came so abruptly that even the mercenary was caught off guard. The effort left him coughing and gasping for breath.

The first impact bounced everything into the air. The mercenary lost his balance and fell over. Gingersnap bit back his pain and crawled towards the knife on the ground, but Morning Breeze caught his tail in his mouth before he could get far.

“Hold your breath,” he said in a hoarse whisper. “Wake up your friend there. Hurry.”

The second impact felt even more powerful than the first. To his horror Gingersnap saw the boards of the hull bounce apart momentarily. Bits of wood exploded off the hull, and water began to trickle into the brig through dozens of small holes and hairline cracks.

Coral Frond had a lump on his head. His eyes moved beneath their lids when Gingersnap tapped his shoulders, but they did not open.

“Bring him over here,” Morning Breeze said.

The mercenaries were yelling at each other as they staggered towards the stairs. The ship was rocking violently. Gingersnap only dragged Coral Frond a metre from the bars before he lost his balance and fell into an inch of water.

“Hold your breath,” Morning Breeze ordered again just before the ship was hit again.

The boards exploded in every direction. Gingersnap saw a gigantic scaly form breach the water’s surface before disappearing into the depths. Its silver eye, as big as the ship’s wheel, took in everything with a soulless stare.

The last thing Gingersnap saw through the open hatch before he sank beneath the surface was the yellow pony falling backwards with a crossbow bolt in each shoulder.

A cold, scaly tendril wrapped itself around his chest. Another one curled around his neck. He struggled against them, trying to keep his grip on Coral Frond.

An iridescent green pony rose through the water and stopped at eye level. At least, she looked like a pony at first. She had no mane, and no ears. Her blue eyes were bright like gems, and her face was framed with delicate-looking speckled fins. She put her hooves around Coral Frond and pulled him away. Gingersnap didn’t recall letting go, but a moment later she was swimming away, holding the unconscious unicorn by the shoulders.

The light of the surface fade. Gingersnap’s ears popped. He kicked a few times, and reached out for the surface, but the thing holding him possessed a gentle but persistent strength. He could see the shadow of the Spectre above him. But the tendrils threw him this way and that, pulling him ever deeper.