Knights of Bayard

Lulamoon left the following afternoon to their first encampment beyond the defensive line and stopped the wagon by a tent where the mares and stallions were being groomed and checked for lice and fleas. He had been carrying the wagon and he sat beside it and another took the supplies in. It was a hot day and the sky was very bright and blue and the road were dry and dusty. Lulamoon took a drink from his water skin and thought about nothing. Scouts went by and he watched them pass. The ponies were hot and sweating. Some wore their helmets but most of them carried them slung from their saddle-bags. Most of the helmets were rusting, and a few were too big for the ponies who wore them, and a few had poorly cut holes, and grinded against the horns of some of the unicorns. The nobles all wore better-fitting helmets. Lulamoon recognized a few of them from the estates, where Wing Song was. They were sweaty, dusty, and tired, and etched to their tunics, Lulamoon recognized the Rod of Asclepius. They were tending to the sentries- ponies who had been tasked with guarding the encampment. Some looked pretty bad. A sentry approached the wagon. He was walking with a limp. He stopped beside the wagon. Lulamoon got up and went over.

“You have any water?”

Lulamoon offered him an extra water skin. The sentry seated himself on the ground, and drank. His lips were dry and cracked, and there was blood as the water trickled down from his lips and towards his chin.

“What’s wrong with your leg?”

“I got a capped knee.”

“Why don’t you ride with us?” asked Lulamoon. “We can get you to the hospital.”

“They won’t let me. They said I did it on purpose.”

“Sit here,” said Lulamoon. “I’ll get one of the physicians to look at it. Then we’ll take you along and drop you in the hospital.”

“They’ll say I did it on purpose.”

“Just let me talk to them,” said Lulamoon.

He called for one of the physicians, and she brought bandages for the stallions leg, and tied a red and white ribbon to his ear.

“Take him to Frost Light,” the physician said. He was in a hospital just behind the line.
Lulamoon applied his magic, and lifted the wounded stallion onto the cart. His escort complained, but Lulamoon agreed to carry the wagon back.

“You alright there?” he asked.

“I’m good.”

“How’s the war going for you?”

“Bad.”

“That’s what I keep hearing.”

“You a Vanner too?”

“Yeah. I was in Calmare when they snatched me. I knew you were a Vanner.”

“Don’t I look Equestrian enough?”

“I knew from the pendant. Not many Equestrians wear the Sabbats.”

“Another tinker,” the escort grumbled, looking at the wounded stallion.

“Listen, friend. Do you have to take me to the hospital?”

“Yes.”

“Because the Captain knows a few of us wind up with capped knees. I didn’t think it wise, but a few got it on purpose, and would let it get so bad they wouldn’t have to be out on guard duty again.”

“I see.”

“I ain’t one to go and hurt myself on purpose. That’s how you get strung up. But if they think I did, they’ll tell the Captain and then he’ll either hang me or send me to the Blitz.”

“You don’t have to worry about that. Frost Light will take care of you. He isn’t one to toss anypony under the wagon.”

He thought it over.

“So, it’ll be okay then?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“Sweet Celestia, I don’t want to go to the Blitz.”

“Listen,” said Lulamoon. “You’ll get checked, get some sleep, and a warm meal. Everypony trust Frost Light. You’ll have to go back, but you might get sent to another regiment.” They stopped at the side of the road. He helped the stallion down.

“It’ll be alright,” he said.

“So long.”

Lulamoon went on and passed a regiment along the way, then made his way through the line, and dropped off his wagon at the storehouse. When he got back to the house it was past noon and he went out to the stables and took a shower. Then he went upstairs and sat by the window on his cloak and tunic, with his blade and chainmail crumbled beside him. In two days the siege was to start and he would be spending his nights in the dugout. He wished he had Swift Bolt, but instead he had Fence, a fat mud-beater and Thunder Wing, the tiny pegasus with the hollow wings and potato brain. They’d all be under Silver Mane. Maybe he was too clean and handsome to be a captain, but he looked like a lord. Lots of them would have liked to be under his command. He was a good captain. He was appointed by Lady Posey, and commanded the third army. Swift Bolt was in the second army. Lulamoon had met with two grenadiers from that lot. They were very nice, and were close friends with Swift Bolt. They were big and raggedy and very superstitious, and very appreciative of anything you brought them. Lulamoon wished he was a Pegasus. It would have been much nicer to be with Swift Bolt. He would probably have been killed, though. Pegasi were always being killed. He knew he would not be killed. Not in this war. He’d been at it for too long, and he learned a few tricks to get by. If worse happened, he could always use Fence’s fat flank to shield himself. He still wished it was over though. It would finish after Grani, he knew this. Maybe they would crack, and they’d be told to go home. They came a few times before, but there were only a a few, and they were always beaten. Everypony said they weren’t through though. Swift Bolt said Grani’s troops were trying to stall them, soften them up. Maybe they were expecting a miracle. Lulamoon didn’t care about any of that. He just wanted to go home. He wanted to go back to Calmare, back to his wagon, with ponies he knew.

Was his wagon even there anymore, he thought. They might have torn it down and used it for firewood. It might be good though. Everypony’s probably south. He could go to the Everfree, when the war ends. The sun was going down and the day was getting cooler. After supper, he’d go and see Wing Song. He wished she was in the house with him, but he didn’t trust anypony there beside Swift Bolt. Maybe he’d go to Bayard with her. He’d get a small plot of land in Rhones and then he’d spend his mornings beside Wing Song, and they’d have breakfast together. Maybe she would be knighted, and he would be waiting for her and bring her water, and help her out of her armor, and then they’d kiss and spend the evening together, and he’d tell her how beautiful she was, and she’d play her usual mind games with him. They’d drink some wine and because it was so hot out they would not be wearing any clothes, and the window would be open, and the swallows would be flying over and perch themselves on the open window, and when it was dark afterward they would be in bed, sharing a sheet, and they would both love each other all night in the hot night in Rhones. That was how he imagined it. Lulamoon ate quickly and went to go and see Wing Song.

There were many ponies in the estate, and he drank wine because they had offered, and he thought it rude to refuse them. He drank only a little and talked with a noblepony about Lady Posey who was, it seemed, a beautiful mare and whose beauty was wasted on war and was better served finding a husband and starting a family, and not wanting to risk the anger of a Knight’s Commander, Lulamoon feigned ignorance. It would have been terrible if he were to be caught by the Colossus in such conversation, and when he had listened to their explicit discussions of Posey which was, he thought, likely to cause trouble for them later, he made his way to the watch commander.

The watch commander apologized for the noble’s behavior. They were preparing for the siege, and a few were having some last minute revelry. Wing Song had been stuck with attending the final preparations. This was normal, but it had left Lulamoon somewhat disheartened.

“Could I see her just for a moment?”

“I’m sorry,” he said. “But I can let her know you stopped by. She’s been very busy; she will appreciate knowing you came.”
Lulamoon frowned. “Alright,” he said. “What about tomorrow?”

“If you come early, I can have a servant bring her.” He slapped Lulamoon on the shoulder. There were more ponies about. All the nobles were very happy. “Try and get some sleep,” he said. “You will see her tomorrow.”
Lulamoon went out towards the house. He stood outside the door. There was singing coming from the window. “They’d better not be drunk,” he said.

“Not yet, but they are getting there.”

Swift Bolt stood behind Lulamoon, carrying a water skin, and a wide smile.

“You’d better chew some coffee,” he said.

“Can’t.”

“Nonsense. I’ll get some, friend. You won’t find sleep up there with the others, and I won’t have you tired if the signalers stop by.”

They walked along together up the stairs, and Lulamoon stopped by the door and waited for Swift Bolt. He came back with a hoofful of roasted coffee beans. “Chew these. We’ll have the night all to ourselves.”

“Swift Bolt,” he said. “You don’t look so good.”

“I’m perfectly all right.”

They sat by Lulamoon’s bedroll, and he chewed the coffee. In the hall that led up to their door, there was singing and laughter.

“I’m sorry, Tristan,” he said. “I just came back from the priest. I worry I won’t see him anymore.”

“I’m sorry. I’m sure you’re worrying over nothing.”

“This war is awful isn’t it.”

“Will you tell me what happened?”

“Nothing. That’s what’s so awful about it.”

“You’ll see him next time. After this Grani will crack, and we can be done with all this.”

“Maybe Tristan. But it is different for Pegasi. We are warriors. Death hangs over us, and all we can do is meet it.”

“Are you afraid?”

“Of death?” Swift Bolt chuckled. “No, it is not death I’m afraid of. It is the priest. I have come to know him, to love him. Now, I am afraid I may never have a chance to share my life with him.”

“I think I understand.”

“Did you see your lovely culverin today?”

“No. I have to try and see her tomorrow.”

“You will, my friend. It is good to see your loved ones.”

“Thank you, thank you very much,” said Lulamoon.

A few of the other soldiers came in, loud and sweaty, and suddenly Lulamoon felt lonely and empty. He wanted to see Wing Song very much. He wanted to drink some wine, but Swift Bolt pushed it aside and shoved a water skin in his hooves. He laid on his bed roll and he had nearly forgotten about her, but when the others left he thought about tomorrow and if he could not see her and there was a hollow feeling in his chest.