Coffee and Gunpowder

“Let the enemy not pass this forest!” Ambrose led his cavalry squadron over fallen soldiers, their arrow-torn uniforms painting the field red as men who remained kept pushing through the waves of arrows piercing the air.

Ambrose spited the order of cease fire the colonies had given. He did not care of the soldiers who surrendered, they were all just numbers sent by the bureaucrats. They knew the risks, what was wrong with simply putting that idea to reality? The real results came from frontline officers such as himself that would push for total victory.

Though, in the stead of the French stood those natives. A rebellion, against the sovereignty of Britain? Had they half a brain, the bloke that proposed the idea would’ve been labeled as mentally insane. Unfortunate for them that the proposal caught momentum within the region. He’d make sure the person who started this gets his brain splattered all over the execution grounds when this stupidity ends.

A soldier not of his company galloped next to him. “Sir, one of the enemy officers has been caught! Captains: Smithley and Claxton is waiting at camp for your input.” How lovely, a man soon to be dead was waiting for him. Just as he thought today was going to be boring.

“Fine, I will head there at once.” Ambrose turned to the company lieutenant behind him. “Keep pushing, I want their village burned by sundown; women and children be damned. No matter how many losses we sustain, you are to keep these men moving forward.”

The lieutenant replied with a simple nod, before he began relaying the order to others around him.

As he left the field with a few guards to accompany him, the battle raged on beyond the forest line. Ambrose had done a good job of observing the local wildlife, whether it be flora or fauna. Though, the fauna had a bit of a scuffle in the documenting, leaving a few soldiers in the medical tents. Nevertheless, this territory was ripe for exploitation.

If there was one thing Ambrose liked of the natives, it was that they had done good work of keeping nature’s glory. This land was just begging to be colonized. As soon as this region was captured, Ambrose will be bidding the highest and bribing the most.

Think of all the exotic creatures he could put in the private markets. Forget the East Indies, this region practically had gold running around in the wild.

“Ambrose, could you possibly have taken a more leisurely pace!? This fool attempted to poison our supplies, and you kept saying these natives had no brain to do so.” Claxton practically pulled Ambrose down from his mount, wasting not a single second in dragging him through the encampment.

Claxton seemed a little fatigued and bruised when Ambrose faced him.

————

Kaff stared down on the text he had written. It had not too many pages to be called a book, but he decided in cataloging recipes by type. So, there were still volumes left to continue. He’d see about meeting a leatherer to make a hardcover of it.

Rising from the store counter, he checked another day in the calendar. A few days had passed over his victory over Holds. Now, whenever Holds was in vicinity, Kaff was a little less intimidated, and Holds had none to say as well.

He wondered if Holds had more or even less respect for him. But, whichever one it was, Kaff tried his best in being respecting, and not flaunt it in his face. Holds was a honorable stallion, so Kaff will make his best to do the same.

Jace was a mixed bag of results. She had congratulated, and even so far as to say celebrated his victory, but Kaff knew there was a twinge of sadness in her eyes. He still played along in the celebration, however.

It later came to his attention that Holds was something of an opponent to face in the ring. News had travelled to many ears, and there was a rumor of a new player in the game of boxing. Kaff just laughed it off. Though, he received an invitation by a noble of some sort.

Fancy Pants had sent a letter wishing for an interview with him. Kaff had naught to know of what he wanted, but he intended on getting a reputation as a valet once again. He was likely going to be asked to fill a domestic security position, if he had to guess. He was just going to have to spin the idea of him being a valet to the noble. Heavens know that years in the nobility’s world gave him experience in disinformation.

So there it was, the tavern where his soon to be master shall meet him. It was near the city’s palace, looking rather empty in the daylight. Of course, Kaff took the luxury of coming a tad bit early. Thirty minutes should put in the right impression.

Without much extravagance, he entered quietly through the rustic swinging doors, the other patrons replying by continuing to stare at their half empty glasses, the room barely lifting their shadows. Kaff sat down in a rather isolated table, adjusting his seat as he looked at the menu.

‘The Rusty Spear’, seeing much of the patrons had the figure of soldiers, it was appropriate. Come to think, there were a few racks filled with golden armour. Most likely the city’s watch of some sort. Though, the choice of colours was something unusual to look at, and the armour style seemed ancient.

“Can I take your order?”

He looked up to see a mare with a notepad and ‘pencil’ in her mouth; he’d be sure to check in on a dictionary later. “I will be waiting for another.”

“If you’re looking for something romantic, here’s ain’t the place.”

“Duly noted.” Kaff waved her off.

The menu was quite the paper piece. It reeked of sweat and alcohol, yet it was clean to the eye. After a few minutes of browsing, he placed it down, reaching to clean the utensils of the table with a napkin.

He shouldn’t ruin his chances. Sir Fancy will have no less than stellar for the place of his interview. This place may seem down-trodden, but Kaff was not to question it or do nothing to improve. The master would get what the master wants plus his excellence in service.

The possibility of that letter being fake was near zero. He spent years reading through mails in a Scottish accent, now he had the eye to spot whichever ones were poisoned, forged, or even ciphered. The noble managing to find him was already enough evidence to prove his status. No common could simply ask for his whereabouts without other eyes and ears helping.

“How wonderful of you to be present early.”

Kaff dropped the fork and napkin in his hands, immediately standing up to greet the stallion. He gave a quick bow, before pulling the seat back for him. “Diligence never hurts anyone.”

“Not quite what I expected from a pony that managed to triumph over Noholds Barred.” Fancy sat down as Kaff pushed the seat forward and dusted off his black suit. “Certainly not the warrior I envisioned.”

“Yes, quite, Mast— ahem Sir Fancy.” He laid out the utensils in a neat arrangement in front of Fancy. Backing down his own chair, he made sure to straighten himself up to appear proper. “May I ask why you’ve called for an invitation?” Kaff looked straight into Fancy’s blue eyes, of which one was monocled.

Fancy swept a hoof through his mustache as his mane tussled in place. The blue in his facial hair and hairstyle was one that took regular visits to professionals, his shining white fur contrasting them ever so gracefully.

Kaff was sure that unicorns were nothing more, but scams created by the norse, though here was those vikings’ proof that their ‘severed unicorn horns’ were not narwhals’ tusks. Sir Fancy’s one was rather generous in size in proportion to his head. Kaff wondered if it was functional.

“A captain of mine recently resigned his position, and so I intend to promote his second in command. This will lead to much of my security staff receiving a promotion, leaving one post vacant. I have faith that you have desire to serve a noble yet again. Some of the ponies under the chain of command does not merit the elevation.”

“Pardon my questioning, but with all respect, why have you chosen I?”

“It is not often a ‘Prussian soldier’ finds themselves in Canterlot. Especially one that was able to join a private army of a high ranking noble from Germaneigh.”

“How did…”

Fancy pulled out a roll of newspapers, levitating it in front of Kaff for him to see. ‘Prussian Soldier Saves Journalist and Finds Illegal Crocodile Farm,’ was proclaimed in uppercase as there was a picture of a hunched-back stallion being arrested in front of a pool of crocodiles.

Daily Words will soon find a rather irate and delighted Kaff before him.

“I do not usually take what the press tells with whole trust, but this piqued my interests. I heard great discipline from your lands, though much of your culture and trotting style is still foreign to me,” Fancy pointed towards Kaff’s bipedal nature. “My thoughts are that you must be one of great talents to perform the deeds you have accomplished. Your mark, however…”

He pointed to… Kaff’s hindquarters? “Um, yes it’s… quite the posterior that mother gave me.”

“Not to demean your biology, but that is not the focus of my query. I meant for the mark that gives ponies their destiny—cutiemarks. Which, in no way am I shaming you, I question you this: What is it that you are proficient with? You have well reached maturity, and yet no mark is bestowed upon your flank.”

What in good Prussia was a ‘cutiemark’? If everyone had those, Kaff’s eyes hadn’t wondered into their rears. No gentleman would do such a thing. It was mortifying enough that clothing was optional, now it was an etiquette to know what marks were on others’ behind? The first few days he’d been in Equestria, he had to contain the pressure of blood rushing to his cheeks to just get by!

His fabricated falsehoods were starting to get more complicated. “I believe there is a term for what I am experiencing—amnesia.”

“Ohh, I am sorry to hear. I know what it is like to lose years from loved ones. One should never bear the burden of forfeiting fragments of their lives.” It seemed that Kaff had struck a sensitive matter.

“I thank you for your empathy. Tis not often that nobles are genuine in what they say. The emotion in your voice was not something that could be faked.”

“You are quite something of a pony. A warrior with eyes that could see through the royal court’s deception.” Fancy waved for a waitress. “May I inquire about any bit of previous experiences that you may recall, seeing that you know your place of origin?”

“Very well, Sir Fancy,” As the waitress jotted down Fancy’s order, Kaff requested the same for himself. “I started my work with serving a baroness, one that was a friend of mother before my chin met the barber’s razor. Not in guarding the estate, but in making beds and holding trays. I came as a footman, and resigned as a valet.

“At the time, many were seeking what I had to offer, so opportunities were vast, but I hadn’t much luck. I will be open, with you, Sir Fancy. One of the ‘worst’ masters I served was a count that had more people in oubliettes than there were blood relatives. I regret to admit that I had held the whip far too many times to prove my loyalty.

“I went through a few more masters, till one was unlucky enough to relinquish life in the middle of a vacation. Needless to say, I was effectively stranded in Bat-Avia. There, I lived up to my name: Kaffeine, working behind the kitchen and putting to life local recipes.

“I later came across the ‘best’ master, one who rescued me from a band of not so civil corsairs, taking me to a land closer to home. He was a man seeking liberty in a land of untamed woods and mountains. The man was a duke of a king that he sought to rebel against. He unshackled slaves, but kept the wealthy under leashes. Never had I met a man so virtuous, yet so sinful.

“Soon, I received a letter from a man that had far too high of an expectation for me. Grandfather and his son were the only reasons I left my beloved nation. I had tried to cut ties with them altogether when mother passed, but the past was always one to catch up.

“The letter… explained something about a recent war, and that my live was nothing short of dishonour to the family. I later went on to prove myself. That was by far, the biggest mistake of my life.

“The military was not a life I intend to live off of. It was something of a blur. The only thing I can remember was losing a leg and washing ashore after a nasty encounter with a hostile fleet.

“I remember nothing of my early childhood, some of the masters I worked for were nothing but mists in my head, and the few months of service to the army was better off forgotten than to be haunting me for the rest of my days.”

The only lie was the memory loss and the army. He fully remembered the cindering smell of black powder and the childhood he and mother trudged through.

“In short, I believe that I am most proficient in personally serving a noble by their side. I have met many masters, and gained many of their beliefs and knowledge, whether it be righteous or unjust. You may take what I’ve said however you please, but note that my time in as a soldier was a mistake that I intend not to repeat.”

Fancy just stared at him in contemplation, ignoring the plates the waitress had placed on the table. Even if Kaff’s lies had fell into deaf ears, reputation was reputation, and now it was his own.

In the past, Kaff had never made his past as clear as today. He’d always give basic personalities and name a few masters, but not so open as to directly testify against one of his employers’ actions. Information had its price, but he was near desparation

Kaff looked down to see the food had began to lose their steam. He poked the pieces of vegetables with a fork, but waited until Fancy had taken his own bite of the meal. Rather long for Fancy to digest the information.

“Will the rank First Lieutenant be able to persuade you?”

——————

As the sun beared down on guards that clashed their swords in single battles, the palace grounds were livid with sounds of training. The paraperted walls of the palace mighty as it seemed were overshadowed by numerous towers being constructed all throughout their rigid walkways.

Master Fancy had spoke of a great disaster that had struck Equestria a few months past. A being of monstrous power that consumed the life force out of every living thing it wishes had once simply meandered through the garrisoned walls of Canterlot, and the monarchs present did not wish for it to be the same thereafter.

Kaff walked above the cobblestoned road which encompassed the entirety of the royals’ dwelling place. Every so often, a guard clad in golden armour would give looks of bloody murder to him as he followed along with Master Fancy. Even fewer attired nobles would pass a glance of curiosity to a foreign that tread on their grounds.

“I have assembled a modest company of soldiers to form my household’s first formal levy. Luna herself wanted every noble to own a small fighting force to reserve the newly reorganized Earth pony Unicorn and Pegasus, or EUP for short.”

Kaff eyed a group of soldiers sitting in an open field with an instructor at the middle, the instructor’s hoof holding a crossbow and bolt. “I wish not to call your work modest, Master Fancy. One has to start from somewhere to make progress.”

The instructor placed the crossbow’s end on the ground and stepped it’s cocking stirrup steady with his hoof as he wound up the cranks. The instructor then placed in the bolt, before firing at a round target some thirty yards away; a bullseye. Kaff had always wanted to go hunting with one of those things in tow.

“You need not to honey your words, Kaffein. I know full well that the hodgepodge of mercenaries in my company is less than satisfactory compared to what my colleagues had managed to accomplish.”

The two made way for a small column of palace guards patrolling the area with spears at the ready, their hooves resounding with the stone path as their heads stared forward with a fixed glare.

Kaff continued to follow behind Master Fancy. “May I request to reside in a place of my own while I serve you, Master Fancy? Tis actually not very far from here, and I wish to return help to a family in need of support.”

“Any Commissioned Officer not scheduled for the night is allowed to stay at their own domicile, and I cannot deny my workers repaying deeds to others in need; which reminds me of something.” Fancy procured a key from his pocket, placing it in front of Kaff. “You shall share a room with the captain, seeing that you will be mostly working for him instead of me.”

Kaff took the key. “You will still have my loyalty, Master Fancy. The orders you instruct are superior to that of any officer above me in power.”

“Then you may prove it to me, good Lieutenant. I trust you are a stallion of your words. You may do as you wish against any that sought to dispute your power, but know that any extreme action you take should have my approval.”

Fancy stopped in front of a large wooden door, holding the handle closely. Next to the door was a sign that read ‘mess hall’, creaking in one-nailed suspension. He seemed hesitant to open it, steeling himself to look at Kaff before going onwards.

“Through these doors are your new comrades. Some will welcome you with open hooves, but I advise you of the envious officers. They are the reason why the previous captain left. I imagine they will seek to prove that they are better than you to stroke their own pride or to advance their own position.” With a small frown, he pushed it open.

Much of the ponies inside met their appearance with passive intrigue, while ones who wore bright uniforms looked with disdain, pointing their muzzles up in the air. Only a handful kept their gaze.

The room held nearly fifty ponies, both stallions and mares. Master Fancy was not lying when he used ‘modest’ to describe it. Fifty ponies did not make a company. A single cavalry charge could cut through them much would a steel saber against the open skin.

Everyone was seated in their own cliques. Some were arm wrestling, while others played a rather nasty game that involved a knife and a wing. To his side was a group that played a game of cards. One of them, a mare with red fur, made an inspection out of Kaff’s entrance, moving her burning roll of tobacco from one side of her lip to the other.

The mare with the smoke in her mouth began to break the silence, “This the new CO, Chief? Can’t help but notice the attention everyone’s giving him,” her voice raspy like dry leaves under a mount’s hoof.

The rest of the ponies in the mare’s table only half-cared for their arrival, thinking higher of the game of cards on their table. A small pile of random goods sat on the center, and an odd-looking, wavy dagger stuck out from side as was a roll of half-eaten cheese wheel.

“Yes, indeed, Miss Fire.” Fancy turned to face everyone in the room. “Everypony, this is First Lieutenant Kaffein.” All looked at him, but some opted to return to their circles. “He will be replacing the newly promoted Captain Steady Hooves. Some of you may not like his origin, but I know this company will be a force unmatched under his and the captain’s guidance...”

Kaff watched idly behind Master Fancy, eyes looking to the floor in timid reservation as Fancy carried on with his speech. Miss Fire locked eyes with him, so he moved his sight far from hers and a few others that looked his way. He tuned out Master Fancy’s words so he could find himself some time to think.

The room had a scent of alcohol, though it was massively overshadowed by a smell that somewhat reminded Kaff of concentrated soap, or cleaning substances in general. The chairs creaked, but that only meant that it had character and a touch of rustic charm. There was even a longbow inside a glass display, one that will keep others from forgetting its bearer’s legacy.

It was a sight that was reminiscent of home. Just a patch of land that humbled a mighty capital. One of his cousins used to invite him to small gatherings after the cousin’s tavern was closed for the night. He could never hold much alcohol, but the time he spent with his dear friends was what kept him from leaving. Plus, it ended up with the cousin hiring him as a waiter, there he founded his love of serving others with a smile that wasn’t a facade.

One of the uniformed ponies stood up from his seat, cutting off Fancy’s speech, “What does he have that we don’t!? My brothers-at-arms and I served you longer than any of these goons that crawled out from Ghost Canterlot! Our seniority should put this bastard’s head under a cadet’s helm!”