MASTER SARGENT (RET.) WARRIN’S HEARTHWARMING
Author's Note
This story is a sort of alternate universe to my usual alternate universe! There are tie ins and they share many features. Both this tale and its precursor tale, THE TAIL OF THE GHOST, in my TALES FOR NIGHTMARE NIGHT! are mainly meant to be read simply for fun.
MASTER SARGENT (RET.) WARRIN’S HEARTHWARMING
I was starting to dream. Suddenly I was being very lightly but insistently shaken awake!
“Old Warrior, my Love! Somepony is invading your dreams!”
Master Sargent (Ret.) Warrin opened an eye a little and replied to the nearly invisible little mare that was trying to awaken him, “I know that, Sweetie. It is OK. Princess Luna is trying to tell me something important. I need to get back to sleep enough to find out what she needs.”
The feathery shaking stopped. “I am sorry my Love. I was trying to protect you.”
I could see my wall mount of military medals, decorations, and commendations on the wall right through the small mare’s ghostly form. She reached out a hoof with no substance and gently pulled my eyes closed.
In only seconds, I was standing before Princess Luna on a bleak plain. She nodded me a courtesy and began, “As well as you served Us, your rulers, in the Dappleton Grist Mill dam failure, We need your services again.
“There has been an avalanche that hit the resort village of Sleighbell. They are cut off. We have dispatched a platoon of the Royal Armored Pegassi but they were on maneuvers near the Great South Bay. They cannot arrive as swiftly as you can.
“We have also dispatched a work team from the Royal Road Maintenance Depot at Circle Lake. They will not arrive for several days.
“Your assessment of the situation and directing the recovery of as many as possible is needed. The rescue teams and the mayor of Sleighbell have been informed that you will be in charge of operations.”
Princess Luna faded away. Warrin slowly awoke.
I could smell the aroma of my favorite strong Rom Black tea and haytwists frying. Utterly bemused, I climbed out of the sleeping stall, dressed in my old Royal Road Fast Post uniform, in preference to my old Royal Armored Pegassi uniform. The one thing from the RAP uniform that I did set out were the large field kit saddlebags.
I entered the warm kitchen. There was Sweetie at the stove. There was a fire laid in the firebox. The stove was heating the whole kitchen. My nose had not deceived me. Though she had to stand a good fifteen centimeters above the floor, Sweetie had the fry pan and two pots on the stove top.
She looked up from her self appointed task of fixing my breakfast for the first time since I had found her haunting the old Royalmont Chateau. Smiling she turned to me and gave me a hug. It was like being held by the softest of feathers. Even though I could see the stove right through her, old retired Master Sargent me attempted to return Sweetie’s hug. I could barely see or feel her in the kitchen’s light.
She returned to the breakfast that she had cooking on the stove. Placing a hoof just over the hay twists caused them to vanish slowly. She put her hoof over my plate and their ghostly forms appeared there. As she took her hoof away, the hay twists took solid substance there, ready for me to eat.
Sweetie quietly told me, “You will have to serve the tea and oatmeal with dried fruits in it that I made you. For some reason, I cannot hold or pick up the water or softer things like that.”
Glancing up from my fried hay twists, old warrior me had to ask, “How did you make them, then?”
I was serving up the oatmeal and rummaging a drawer for my tea strainer as she replied, “I put the pots on the stove and then brought in hard snow and ice from outside to melt in the pots. When I had enough melted snow, I added the dry oatmeal and fruits to one pot and the tea to the other. I could not open your tea ball. I am not strong enough for that.”
I poured the tea through the strainer into a small cup for Sweetie to smell and a larger mug for me to drink from. The oatmeal I put on a small plate for her and a larger one for myself.
Sweetie got up and walked through the pantry door without bothering to open it. She returned the same way and laid a hoof in front of my place. When she took it away, my butter pot took form.
As I scooped butter over my oatmeal I smiled, “Thank you, Sweetie. I am so glad that we found each other.”
While she smelled the aroma from her small portions, she nodded happily, “I am too, Old Warrior. You are the first since I died who had the courage to really try to communicate with me.
“Sometimes, listening to your tales, I wish that I could remember my life or when or how I died. All that we know is that it was a long time ago. I would like to tell you stories from my life too.”
Softly, I replied, “I would like that too, Sweetie. For one thing, it would be good to hear you tell them. For the other, it would mean that you were more whole.”
She smiled again. Then she pointed out, “You do not seem to be in much of a hurry. What did Princess Luna want from you?”
I looked up and replied, “There was an avalanche in a small resort town called Sleighbell, up in the Sunset Mountains.
“I am taking my time now. Being well fed and ready will let me make up the time spent now. I am going to need it because I have to carry a pretty heavy load, mostly rations for the surviving victims of the avalanche. I am an experienced long range fast flier.” I gestured at my wall mount of Royal Road Fast Post commendations and medals.
Sweetie nodded slowly. “Let me see how much I can carry in ghost form, my love. I will take all of the pantry’s dry foods, like the oatmeal and the hay twists that I can. I may be able to manage some pots too. I will let you know.”
She got up from the table and walked through the pantry’s closed door again.
I went back to my sleeping chamber and began loading up the saddlebags with old military ration packs. They were designed to last for years while staying nutritious, though infamous for not being all that tasty. I’d stocked them in long ago, against any emergency here at the chateau. It looked now as if they might serve a better use.
Fully loaded, I strode out of Chateau Royalmont, onto its old fashioned but fully functional Pegasus Plaza. Sweetie was already there, waiting for me.
Smiling but serious, she told me, “I got two cooking pots and all of the pantry dried foods. I have about as much as I can carry. I see that you have a lot too.
“Are you sure that you can carry so much and still make speed?”
The old warrior in me nodded to my small companion, only barely visible to the naked eye. Invisible to most, actually. “I guess that we are ready, Sweetie. So happy that you changed from haunting the Chateau to haunting me! I really need you just now.”
I spread my wings and leaped from the Pegasus Plaza. Sweetie imitated me, except that she had no wings. It did not seem to matter. She was galloping along as if she were a pegasus romping on a well made cloud. Of course there was no cloud or the need for one. The magic of haunting and all of that.
We were only on our way for about an hour when I spotted a Fast Post Signal up! I spiraled down and hit the Postal Porch with a solid thump to let those inside the station know that I was there.
I knew the elderly pegasus who looked out, ducked back in and returned with a packet of dispatches. He called out, “Warrin! Glad it’s you the Princesses have going up to Sleighbell! Got a bunch of dispatches for them. One is a Royal Arrest Warrant for Count Corbiestep, if he is still alive.
“Here, sign for the packet, which has intact seals. This piece here is a situation update for you from Princess Luna.”
I nodded thanks as I signed for the dispatch packet. “What is up, Skyblu?” I asked as I started to open my letter.
The light and dark blue Station Pony replied, “We are at war. The Fifth Prance incursion started about a day before the Sleighbell disaster. They are trying to punch through to the plains over Corbiestep Pass.
“I understand that the Prance naval attack to the south has already been blunted. Their ships got pushed into the Ironstone Reef complex by Celestia’s Southern Command Fleet.”
I continued to read the situation update from Princess Luna.
It basically said the same thing with a lot greater detail, especially about the Corbiestep pass attack.
Sweetie and I took off, speeding northwest, as fast as my wings could carry us. It was late afternoon when we arrived at Sleighbell. I spotted the path of the avalanche easily.
Sweetie spotted the tracks at the head of the avalanche. “Warrin, Old Warrior, Look! Somepony triggered this snow slide!” her voice whispered in my ear.
Circling the top of the slope several times, we followed snowshoe tracks away from the head of the avalanche. They led off to the east and down the slope. They rejoined the path of the avalanche about even with where the town used to be.
There were few survivors about, to the west of the slide path, there appeared to be a few intact buildings. One surviving house had smoke billowing out of the chimney. The others had bare wisps of smoke showing.
My wartime camouflage trained eyes spotted what appeared to be a half dozen or so ponies still buried under the avalanche’s rubble and snow. They were not far down-slope from where the main part of the town was.
Sweetie and I alighted in front of the only intact municipal structure. The jail. I knocked. A haggard looking pale violet earth pony mare looked out. After being sure that I was alone, she invited me in.
When I entered, so did Sweetie. She left small snowy hoof prints on the floor as she strolled in, passing through the frame of the solid door. The pale violet mare stared at Sweetie’s hoof prints in something like shock.
I produced the Royal Road Fast Post package and the trace document. I asked the pale violet mare, “Ma'am, are you Mayor Edilweiss?”
She nodded sorrowfully, “Not mayor of much anymore, but yes, I am.”
“Did the Sheriff or any constable survive? If so, they should sign as witness to the delivery.”
The mare called, “Charby! I need you up front!”
The Sheriff came in through a plain board door in the cemented stone wall at the back of the somewhat dingy room. There were notices pinned to a cork board. They were mostly wanted fliers with the pictures and cutie-marks of known miscreants. There was a locked case with crossbows and other weapons and, hanging from pegs, unicorn horn caps and manacles.
Concern in his voice, he asked, “What is it Edilweiss? We are trying to keep Molly warm. She may not recover from being buried in the snow like that.”
The mayor replied, “I know, Charby. I would not have called you for anything less than this. You have to sign witness on the delivery of this Royal Dispatch package. Then we have to inventory the contents.”
As they began to check the inventory of Royal Documents, Mayor Eidelweiss’s spine grew noticeably stiffer.
Setting aside two, she commented, “I do not think that Count Corbiestep is going to like these. I will be most pleased to have control of my town back.”
I noticed that Sweetie was not to be seen at the moment.
The outer door slammed open against its stop! There was a blast of frigid air swirling around the room making the wanted notices flutter and the hanging manacles clatter a little on their pegs!
Sweetie poked her head through the stone back wall, to the left of the door leading deeper into the building. A big off green unicorn was holding the door open with his bulk! Sweetie turned her eyes to the snowshoes that he was wearing and her brow clouded in simple rage!
As the big warmly blanketed unicorn was demanding, “As the Highest NOBLE here, I will examine all of those packages in that mere flier’s saddlebags. Might find some food worth eating! Gotta have that Royal Packet too! Mine by Right of Precedence!”
I put myself between Terence, Count Corbiestep, and the Royal Packet as I retorted, “Crowns Law requires that Fast Post be delivered to the addressee ONLY. It is a FELONY to interfere with it!”
While I was speaking, I maneuvered my hindquarters toward the Count. Contemptuous of us peasants, his magic began to gather around his horn! I let drive with a powerhouse double buck that took the Count in his shoulder, driving him solidly into the oaken door frame and dropping him to his knees!
He scrabbled to his feet, murder in his eyes, power gathering about his horn! From Sweeties’s ghostly horn a flash of green blasted his nether parts! Rearing in surprise, shock and pain, he slammed the back of his head into the oaken door lintel!
The Count was down hard! I dove for his neck to hold him down! Charby hit the wall and dove for the Count as well. He slapped a horn cap onto him and had the quick lock secured, that fast. I admired his skill at getting the manacles onto the Count’s flailing legs!
Charby saw me watching and grinned, “Get a lot of practice at this, being sheriff of a resort town!”
Her orders clear over the Count’s squalling, Mayor Eidelweiss directed, “Pull him on into the office! Pull him to the left of the door and shut it! Be careful not to mess up the tracks if possible!”
We got his “noble” bulk inside and Charby got the door closed. Charby asked her, “What is so important about the tracks, Eidelweiss?”
She shook her head doubtfully. “I want to see if YOU see the same thing that I have. I was pretty sure that I was a bit out of my mind until that green magic blast a moment ago.
“The only unicorn that I can see in this room is the Count. His magic is sort of orange.
“This room is not warm enough to melt the snow in hoof prints. Draw up what you see. Then I will know if I am a little bit around the bend.”
Charby got out an evidence kit and began to sketch all of the snowy hoof prints in and around the door. He stopped and frowned. He very carefully re examined some, nodded, forehead wrinkled in puzzlement, and finished the sketch, which included my hoof prints, Sweetie’s, and the Count’s.
Charby commented, “If you are nuts, so am I. Those small prints? Whoever made them walked right through the solid oak of the door frame and at least part of the door itself.”
Relieved, Mayor Eidelweiss, pointed to Sweetie’s real tracks and offered, “I saw them happen when Mister Warrin came in.”
Turning to me, she asked with some concern, “Wha … Um, Who came in with you Mister Warrin? Do you know?”
Relieved that they were taking Sweetie’s presence so well, I nodded and offered, “We call her Sweetie. She does not know when she died or why she became a ghost. Has either of you ever heard of the Royalmont Chateau Haunting?”
They both shuddered just a little. It was Mayor Eidelweiss who pointed out, “As Nightmare Night tales, yes. It is supposed to be a pretty dangerous haunting.”
I nodded, “It was. It can be. Sweetie and I developed a friendship. She changed her haunting from the Chateau to me. To help out here, she brought you a substantial amount of dried foods. She is in the kitchen now, setting out the food for you.”
Count Corbiestep instantly demanded, “You have got to fix me a substantial meal! Only the best, as befits my station! I haven’t had any thing since mid afternoon snack!”
Ignoring his comment, I directed, “Charby, Mayor, you have both seen my Royal Authority. I am invoking it now. Remove Corbiestep to a locked cell. Do not remove his manacles or horn cap for ANY REASON. Am I clear?”
Leaving them to arrange matters, I extracted the two parchments that the Mayor had set aside, along with my Royal Authority. I brought them to where the Count could see them clearly.
“This, Terence, Count Corbiestep, is my Royal Authority. By it, I outrank anyone else here, including you. Before you object to this, you must, by Royal Decree, see the other papers.
“They are both sealed and signed by both Princesses. You will be given an opportunity for appeal at your trial under the Royal Wing, to be held in Canterlot Castle.
“This paper, jointly sealed and signed, declares the County of Corbiestep VACANT, to filled according to the laws of Succession.
“This second paper, also jointly signed and sealed, is a Royal Warrant for your arrest and detention. You are charged with the criminal violation of Royal Orders during an Emergency.
“This violation has led to the direct death of approximately 20% of your garrison, the destruction of the majority of Corbiestep’s military assets and the destruction of Corbiestep Castle, which was still burning this morning, two days after the surprise attack from Prance.”
For once, the now ex Count was stunned into silence. Charby returned with two husky Earth pony helpers. They dragged him off to his cell.
As Mayor Eidelweiss returned, she commented, “I looked into the kitchen on my way back from seeing to Terence’s accommodations. That is a lot of food. Stranger was the pot of oatmeal gruel that was heating on the stove and stirring itself!
“I am glad that Sweetie is here, if that load and the hot meal being fixed is her doing!”
I nodded agreeably. “Takes some getting used to but Sweetie can be really wonderful to have around. Trust me, I know!”
I shrugged out of my saddlebags and pointed out, “This is not exactly as tasty as what Sweetie brought, which was almost my whole Royalmont Chateau pantry, but it beats starvation!”
The Mayor helped me to unload my old military ration packages. She looked up, tears in her eyes as she spoke. “I served five years in the Royal Army Sappers. These rations will be most welcome!”
She and I lugged everything into the kitchen, where the almost invisible Sweetie was already ladling out bowls of hot gruel.
She turned to me and I heard, “These first two must go to that mare Molly. She needs to be warmed the most! After that, we must give the first bowls to the most able bodied of the survivors. They will need the warmth to help us dig out the buried ponies.”
In the cell block, the badly chilled Molly was being surrounded by other ponies trying to share body heat to keep her warm. A light red pegasus stallion was holding her head and weeping, “Don’t leave me, Molly! I need you!”
Mayor Eidelweiss brought in a tray with steaming bowls of hot gruel.
The ex Count of Corbiestep saw them and instantly showed just how little he understood the situation!
“Hot food! Just what I need! Hoof it over now! I am freezing my butt off in this damned cell! You are all in for it bad when the Princesses find out how you have treated a High Noble of the Realm!”
Ignoring the outburst, Mayor Eidelweiss compassionately knelt in front of Molly. Looking up to the pony holding her head, she directed, “Lift Molly’s head up higher, Morgan. She needs the help to swallow this. It will help her to warm up. Sweetie is making her some hot tea as well.”
The others looked blankly at each other when Sweetie’s name was mentioned. I came in with a big copper of hot water and the tea. Sheriff Charby explained, “Mister Warrin, here, at his request, was given Royalmont Chateau for major services to the Realm. Sweetie is the famous ghost haunting the Chateau. She came here with Mister Warrin.”
Morgan opined, “I have never heard of that ghost doing any good at all.”
Mayor Eidelweiss gestured at the bowls of hot gruel and at my big copper kettle of hot water. “I did not hear any good of her either, Morgan. Use your eyes and brain. She brought all of this food and a lot more. It is all in the jailhouse kitchen right now.”
Feeling Molly stirring under his hooves and swallowing hot gruel eagerly now, Morgan nodded. “Right, Mayor. I should apologize to her if there is any way to do it. Molly is starting to move now!” His eyes teared up again. “If you can hear me, Miss Sweetie, I am sorry that I said that about not hearing good of you. Saving Molly is the best good I can imagine. Thank you.”
I poured a cup of tea and put the foal’s no spill top on it. I looked sideways at Sheriff Charby. While Molly sucked eagerly at warm tea, he replied to my unasked question.
“We keep that and some other small foal serving dishes for mean prisoners. No pony will brag that he is so tough that we put him on infant formula and strained foal food!”
We were all getting a good chuckle out of that when Sweetie stuck her head through the stone wall between the cells and the kitchen. Sparing a venomous look for Terence, ex Count of Corbiestep, she reminded me, “Old Warrior, my love, Molly is safe now. Get as much warm food in the able bodied survivors as we can. They will need it when we go out to the slide to serch for more survivors.”
The light was dim because the blinds were drawn to help shut out the cold. Everypony in the room, most of Sleighbell’s survivors, could see the ghostly form of her head sticking right through a stone wall. Lucky for them that they cold not hear her. To any other pony but me, her voice is an unintelligible but horrifying moan.
I invited, “Come on in, Sweetie. Let these good folks get to see you. The transparent form of Sweetie strolled on in as if the wall did not exist.
I told them, “This is Sweetie. She is the infamous Haunt of Royalmont Chateau. Do not be deceived by her appearance. She is directly responsible for the reputation of Royalmont Chateau.
“Like many who can be dangerous, she can also be a large assist. She has verified four more survivors trapped under the snow. There appear to be more but verifying that is presently difficult for her.
“Once we get out there, she can be sure. Every able bodied pony among us needs to fuel up with warm food. Then we need everything that we can dig with and go to get them. They are your guests, friends or family.”
Showing his great qualifications for removal from Corbiestep, Terence, snapped, “Never mind those peasants! Spring Thaw will make it easy to recover the bodies. Get me some heat in here, right now!”
Sweetie turned her head to him and her horn began to glow an unearthy green. Her magic slithered out, like a hunting snake to prey on the ex Count! It enveloped him! He began to scream!
“Stop it! I am on Fire! Help!”
Sweetie withdrew her magic, literally waving the glow of it in his face before it winked out. Suddenly, he was shivering all over.
Teeth chattering, he whined, “So cold! I am freezing! Don’t kill me!”
I turned to the others and pointed out, “He has not actually been harmed at all. If she had wanted to, he could be a dead and roasted carcass.”
Approval in his voice, Morgan snarled, “He said the same about my Molly as he just did about the ones out there! Pity that she didn’t fry him!”
I simply agreed, “True, but for one thing. Sweetie knows that he is a Royal Prisoner destined for trial under the Royal Wing for multiple crimes against the State and violations of Fealty. I think that he will wish that Sweetie had finished him first.”
Nodding agreement, the others began downing their hot gruel.
Sweetie gave me a small hug, like being gripped by the softest of warm feathers and whispered in my ear, “You were right, my dear Old Warrior. I might have forgotten and killed him, if you were not there to remind me.”
The others could see her hug me and the obvious affection in the gesture but could not hear what she said.
Without orders, they dispersed to gather digging tools of all sorts.
As soon as the last of them was assembled in the front office, I instructed, “Sweetie will guide us. She will leave hoof prints in the snow for us to follow and will mark the places to dig. We are going for the living first.
“Thanks to the ex Count’s interference, I fear that we will have fewer survivors than if you had been able to begin as soon as the slide stabilized.
“Let’s go and save all that we can!”
We went out into the snow and chill, following small hoof prints that trotted right along across the snow that we had to struggle through. The struggle to follow her to the jumbled snow of the avalanche was made worse by small bits of snow loosened by the wind, falling onto us from the trees overhead.
We came abruptly to the end of the trees. Sweetie’s prints led unerringly out into the tangle of snow, trees ripped out by the roots, and wreckage that had been a small recreational resort. In moments, snow began to fly where Sweetie was marking a place to dig. Another soon after that. And another.
As our crew began to make snow fly in their haste to recover a buried pony, there was a fluttering thunder overhead! All twenty five of the Royal Armored Pegassi platoon circled the area and landed in good order.
The Sargent leading them saluted and asked, “Are you the retired Master Sargent Warrin?”
“I am, Sir!”
He saluted and replied, “We have been placed at your disposal, Sir! What may we do?”
“If you have a military Magic Net mirror, I need to update Princess Luna on this situation.
“Do you see those small pits and that one being dug now?”
“Yes Sir. I do. What is digging them?”
“I will brief you later, Sargent. For now, break your platoon into squads and start digging at each of those pits. They mark survivors under the snow.”
He promptly handed me a military Magic Net mirror and began to direct his pegassi in their winter battle kits. Small entrenching tools began to make the snow fly as I called Princess Luna.
After some military back and forth intended to verify the call and its status, I was looking at Princess Luna. She saluted me as if I was still active duty and then, with only a few questions, listened to my status report.
Grimly, she stated, “That platoon has a very good recon pegasus. I want those snowshoe tracks at the slide head area as well documented as possible. Do you know of any such snowshoes among the survivors?”
“Yes, Princess, I do. The ex Count Corbiestep has such a set. The recon trooper will have to draw a set of the tracks exactly, to see if there is a match. I will arrange for it to be done.
“The Platoon are doing a hero’s work, getting to the buried survivors.”
At that the Princess swallowed hard and looked like she was about to cry. “Warrin, my friend, I am about to order something horrible.”
I retorted, “No, you don't have to. I understand the needs of war all too well. Are they needed for the battle at Corbiestep Pass?”
She nodded, the very picture of misery.
Retired Master Sargent that I am, I offered, “In the situation update that you sent to me while I was on my way here, you mentioned severe losses of military equipment and munitions.
“What do they have and how is the battle going?”
Dealing with facts to another professional, steadying her, Luna explained, “In violation of written policy, Count Corbiestep had both weapons and munitions stored in a single building without even interior safety walls.
“The surprise Prance air raid dropped small combined concussion, fragmentation and incendiary weapons that were right at the weight limits for what a Prance pegasus can carry. Their size limits the amount of flight magic left over for carrying loads.
“The first wave hit the military barracks and the munitions storage building. The second wave of the attack hit Corbiestep Castle. The Countess, both of her colts and many staff were trapped inside the burning fortress. It burned for two days. The main fire went out sometime last night. It is still too hot to enter and the main keep, and all three towers have collapsed, destroying much of the main walls and the curtain wall in the process.”
“I see, Princess. What of the battle? How much do they have to fight with?”
“Countess pro tem, Arianne, a fifteen year old filly, is managing the battle and doing very well. She has only four sixty millimeter mage mortars and about one hundred rounds for them all. She also has two modern Gryphon Empire MT 84 quick fire twenty five millimeter portable cannons. I understand that she has about a thousand rounds for those. Her surviving troops have adequate small arms, crossbows and ammo for them.
“She set up a retreat in force from the foot of the pass, using only small arms to trick the Prance forces to following with as many troops in the spearhead as they could squeeze into the pass. As they were starting to reach the upper end of the Graywall Declivity, about two thirds of the way up the pass, Arianne hit them with her MT 84s, stopping the Prance advance in that narrow spot.
“She is using both the MT 84's at the top end and sealing the Prance forces from retreat with her mage mortars. She has cut off over a third of the Prance attack force until she runs out of ammunition for her main weapons.”
Warrin nodded sagely. “Will you hear my recommendation, Princess Luna?”
“I will listen, Master Sargent Warrin. Whether I take it or not will depend on matters of strategy and tactics that we have not discussed.”
“My Princess, I could not ask for more. Grant us the grace to get the ponies that we have found safely dug out and up to shelter. There, we will feed the platoon a hot meal and send them on their way.
“If they are willing to risk a night flight, I would divert them to your Purple Mountain Royal Armory. If the Armory is notified in advance, the platoon's loads could be ready and waiting for them. They could then fly an interim supply of ammunition directly to Arianne at the pass.
“If you have more weapons and ammo on the way by wagons, it will arrive well after the platoon does. That way, you will get your fastest resupply to Arianne.”
The Sargent of the platoon spoke up, “Pardon the interruption, Princess. Your pardon, Master Sargent Warrin. He has a good notion, there. One change I would make. One of my flight can carry another MT 84 and one can handle a thousand rounds for it. Load the rest of us up with the sixty millimeter ammo and maybe one more sixty millimeter Mage Mortar. That should really seal up the bottle for Prance.
“From what I heard, that Arianne, young as she is, is my kind of commander.
“I guess you figured out, I was saying yes ma'am to the night flight!”
Princess Luna actually looked and sounded relieved. “Sargent, Our Realm is blessed to have such soldiers as you serving us. It shall be as you both have recommended. You will have moonlight from about 9:30 tonight and I will have the Armory's old signal beacon lit from about 11:00 to help guide you in. Besides your loads, there will be a second hot meal waiting for you.
“May Our Mother, the Titan of Life Creation, guide your flight.”
I returned the military Magic Net mirror to the Sargent and asked, “I am sure that you did not come to snoop on my conversation with the Princess. What is the report?”
He smiled and gestured up the slope. “Got three ponies each on the first three survivors that we dug out. They will be safe in warm quarters soon. Got the rest all helping to dig out the last two. I figure no more than an hour to get them up to safety too.
“So, my ponies have seen the tracks and snow flying without any pony there. Some of the superstitious in the lot are saying that it is a ghost.”
I chuckled, “It happens that they are right. It is not a local one, though. She is the famous Haunt of Royalmont Chateau, where I live. She and I manged to learn how to communicate. Nowadays, she haunts me and, frankly, I am glad of it!”
The Sargent simply nodded as we went to join the diggers searching for the last two. “Going to be some other ponies glad of it, as well,” he observed.
The satisfying shunk of the shovel driving into snow and pull and heave as snow was tossed out of the hole filled the time until we had the survivor out. We wrestled the stiff form of the pony up out of the hole and saw that the last one was being lifted out as well.
The returning soldiers brought a toboggan with them. We loaded our recovered ponies onto it and getting them up to the house that the Count had commandeered was far easier that even going down slope to get them had been. The place was mercifully warm.
Mayor Eidelweiss had hot food awaiting us. As she served, she told me, “Sweetie came up and started to set things up. She gave me a note that we are losing the platoon's help but they need hot food.”
I nodded grimly, “She was right. We have a war on and they are needed desperately up in Corbiestep Pass. They will be risking a night flight to get arms and ammunition up to the battle.”
She drew on her own past experience as a Royal Sapper and accepted, “If they are risking a night flight, it is important.”
While talking, she and I were wrapping a slide victim in blankets warmed by the fire.
Done with that, I went to the jail and got the drawing materials from an evidence kit. Sweetie trotting in the air alongside me, I flew up to the head of the avalanche scar. There I started to sketch the scene as if it was for a reconnaissance mission.
I showed the path the snowshoes took from Sleighbell up to the area. I showed the assorted activities the wearer engaged in, including tramping in front of several signs placed about warning of a dangerous area. I carefully drew copies, as exact as possible of the best set of tracks themselves. I mapped the return down-slope by a different route that came into sight of where the town used to be from an innocent direction.
It was clear that Sweetie recognized the tracks. I did too.
Upon our return to Sleighbell, I found the Sargent and his troops just about to leave.
“Sargent! Just the pony that I wanted to see! Before you and your platoon go, I need to use your military Magic Net mirror! I have news for the Princesses that will not wait!”
As he was hoofing over the mirror, the Sargent asked, “Is it classified?”
“Not really, Sargent. The avalanche was not an accident! It needs to be reported as a mass murder. I have drawings from scouting the start point that I need to transmit to Princess Luna. They show it clearly.”
Orange magic striking from the concealment of some brush knocked away the mirror and flattened me in the snow!
Rearing up from his hiding place, magic gathering about his horn, the ex Count gloated, “Jail and embarrass ME, will you? I am going to slam you against that post so hard that there will be two of you!”
He could do it too! None of us was close enough to stop him! The platoon had scatter-dived away following safety protocols for a unicorn attack. They were readying their weapons, knowing that they would be too late to save me. In the heat of the moment, we all forgot one thing.
A blast of green magic, seeming to come from nowhere, swept Terence, once Count of Corbiestep from his feet! As he hit the snow, it crawled up around him in a green tinged sheath of ice! Smoke curled up from his forelock as his horn was burned away, right down to bone!
The big pony was screaming his lungs out! I could not blame him. I had seen enough horn injuries to unicorns during my military service. Most unicorns would rather be killed than have their horns permanently damaged, and his was burned away to the bone of his skull!
Leaving him encased in ice, small hoof prints stalked across the snow to me. Sweetie’s small soft voice in my ear was snarling, “That monster will never harm another pony for so long as he lives, may his life be long and miserable!”
That was followed by one of Sweetie’s delicate, feathery hugs. The tone of her voice changed. “I love you, my dear Old Warrior. I could not let him harm you or anypony ever again.”
We all unfroze from the shock of seeing what Sweetie could be like, when enraged! The others saw me carefully put a foreleg over what appeared to be empty air and say, “Thank you, Sweetie, love. That was perfectly done. We can restore him to his cell to await transport to Canterlot for his trial under the Royal Wing.”
Sheriff Charby glared about. “Who let him out of his cell!? That unicorn was a prisoner under Royal arrest. He was being held for transport to Canterlot Castle for a trial under the Royal Wing!”
Three of the troopers hesitantly raised their hooves. “We did it, Sir. When we brought up the first of the avalanche victims, we found him in a cell. He told us that he had been arrested for intoxicated and disorderly conduct before the slide. Said that he had been forgotten and neglected since.”
I nodded, “Hate to say it, but that makes sense. The flight arrived after we were down slope and starting to dig. I did not brief them on the prisoner. They should have checked with you or me before releasing him but it was an easy mistake to make.”
The Sheriff nodded grimly and gestured to his two deputies. They began to drag off the still screaming and blubbering Terence, ex Count of Corbiestep. The green tinged ice around him appeared to be tougher than manacles. The they had to roll and twist some to get the stiff form of the prisoner through the door into the jail. The sheath of ice did not even crack.
It took some careful rummaging in the snow to find the Sargent’s military Magic Net mirror. Thankfully it was not damaged.
Princess Luna called Celestia to examine the drawings of the activities of the criminal and the pictures of the snowshoe prints. Then they examined the ex Count’s snowshoes.
“Thank you, Master Sargent Warrin. The report seems to be very clear. Exactly what we have come to expect from you. We have made copies of your work. Both your original drawings and the snowshoes should be sent to us with the prisoner.
“How goes the rescue effort?”
Sweetie whispered into my ear and I relayed, “Thanks to the interference of Terence, we have recovered five still alive. Sweetie tells me that we may expect to recover three more but only if we work by lantern light tonight. By tomorrow, they will be gone.
“Of the rest, if rescue efforts had begun at once, as soon as the avalanche stabilized, like the villagers started to do, before they were stopped by the then Count, perhaps twenty more could have been saved. As things are, the total recovered alive stands at six and and we may expect three more.”
Princess Luna gazed back at me, only barely dry eyed, as she stated, “I fear that this is not a very good Hearthwarming for you, Master Sargent. What can we possibly do to make it better?”
I replied, “You are already doing it. Do not forget that I was in your armed services. Princess Celestia, your Southern Command, has stopped the invasion from the south. Princess Luna, with the aid of this brave platoon’s flight tonight, Prance’s northern thrust will be stopped.
“The realm is safe. Most will have a peaceful and happy Hearthwarming. Even we, here, will have our lives to be thankful for. A warrior could not ask for more than this. That what he or she does keeps the Realm safe for all.”
Luna nodded, “We have led troops in too many wars not to understand what you are saying, Master Sargent. We will leave you to save as many more as you can.
“Look for our gratitude in the wagons of the crew clearing the road to Sleighbell.”
I returned the mirror to the Sargent. With only a few commands, his troops took to the air, on their way to resupply and assist the battle at Corbiestep Pass.
Mayor Eidelweiss had lanterns ready for us as we all went down the dangerous slope to recover the last living victims of the avalanche.
~~THE END~~
