Everyday Life With Guardsmares

Chapters

Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
Chapter 62
Chapter 63
Chapter 64
Chapter 65
Chapter 66
Chapter 67
Chapter 68
Chapter 69
Chapter 70
Chapter 71
Chapter 72
Chapter 73
Chapter 74
Chapter 75
Chapter 76
Chapter 77
Chapter 78
Chapter 79
Chapter 80
Chapter 82
Chapter 83
Chapter 84
Chapter 85
Chapter 86
Chapter 87
Chapter 88
Chapter 89
Chapter 90
Chapter 91
Chapter 92
Chapter 93
Chapter 94
Chapter 95
Chapter 96
Chapter 97
Chapter 98
Chapter 100
Chapter 101
Chapter 102
Chapter 103
Chapter 104
Chapter 105
Chapter 106
Chapter 107
Chapter 108
Chapter 109
Chapter 110
Chapter 111
Chapter 112
Chapter 113
Chapter 114
Chapter 115
Chapter 116
Chapter 117
Chapter 118
Chapter 119
Chapter 120
Chapter 121
Chapter 122
Chapter 123
Chapter 124
Chapter 125
Chapter 127
Chapter 128
Chapter 129
Chapter 130
Chapter 131
Chapter 132
Chapter 133
Chapter 134
Chapter 135
Chapter 136
Chapter 137
Chapter 138
Chapter 139
Chapter 140
Chapter 141
Chapter 142
Chapter 143
Chapter 144
Chapter 145
Chapter 146
Chapter 147
Chapter 1
Chapter 5
Chapter 8
Chapter 29
Chapter 57
Chapter 81
Chapter 99
Chapter 126

Chapter 2

Artemis Sparkshower

For Specialist Artemis Sparkshower, today had been the most exciting day of her life! At least, after the other most exciting days of her life, like when she'd finished horseshoe camp and joined the Royal Guard for real. Or even when she'd first arrived in the huge capital city of Canterlot! And now she'd been accepted as a Very important Pony bodyguard!

Well, except the target wasn't exactly a pony, but that was beside the point. The point was, now she was finally going to get a taste of the high society life that the folks around her lived and breathed. Her mind was swirling with all the different kinds of fancy hoity-toity events she would get to attend.

Attend as a bodyguard, but hey, you gotta start somewhere, right?

She'd be going to royal balls, and attending gala openings, and seeing masquerades, and --

"Listen, sparks-for-brains, if you're gonna have your head in the clouds, you might as well get your butt up there as well, so you don't block the doorway for the rest of us!"

'Aw, sunshowers.' "Sorry!" Artemis quickly hustled out of the way, entering into the small, shared living space allotted to her and her fellow guards. Having been pulled down and out of her daydream, she put down her bag and surveyed her new home. The furnishings consisted of a sofa with a pair of club chairs, with a little breakfast-table to seat four. Of the five doors that surrounded her, four lead to near identical bedrooms, while the fifth led to a small washroom.

One of Artemis' new squadmares, Glamerspear, was already poking her head into one of the bedrooms. From what Artemis could see, and assuming they were outfitted identically, they would each get a wardrobe, a dresser, a writing desk, and twin bed.

"Nice digs. Sure beats the barracks," the unicorn, Glamerspear, commented.

"The one on the far left is mine." That was the squad leader, Corporal Bound, entering shortly after.

The pegasus quickly assumed parade rest, and gave an enthusiastic greeting. "At ease! Good morning, Corporal Bound!"

Glamerspear turned herself around to mimic the pegasus' parade rest form, while Corporal Bound shot the cream colored pegasus a disinterested look. "...Carry on."

Before the second word had even escaped her mouth, Glamerspear was already back to poking around in the different bedrooms, apparently trying to figure out which of the identical ones was best.

"Specialist Sparkshower?"

"Yes, Corporal!"

"First time out of your unit?"

"Yes, Corporal!"

"First time bunking with anyone other than a bunch of other junior guards?"

"Yes, Corporal!" By that point, Glamerspear had finished her inspection and was looking curiously at her other two squadmares - but Artemis made sure to keep her attention on the senior non-commissioned officer, just as you're supposed to.

"We're living together, Specialist. 'Parade Rest' is going to get old fast every time I need to use the mares' room."

"Yes, Corporal!"

"Save it for when we're out of our quarters, Specialist. In here, we're all just guards. Understood?"

"Yes, Corporal!"

Corporal Bound just shook her head and shrugged her shoulders, trundling off to her chosen bedroom, duffel bag in tow.

There was a chuckle from one of the middle bedroom doors. "Geez, Sparks, you sure can take a hint." Sparkshower turned to face her squadmare. Glamerspear looked to be a little older than the pegasus, but only by a few years.

"I'm just following the Military Customs and Courtesies. We're still in the Royal Guard."

Using her telekinetic magic, Glamerspear tossed her duffel bag into the room, where it landed on the bed with an audible 'poomf'.

"Pssht, sure we are."

Artemis furrowed her brow. "We still have to go to reveille each morning."

Her expression unchanging, SPC Glamerspear started to prowl around the living room, taking time to check just how plush the sofa and chairs were. "True."

"We still have three drills a week."

"Also true."

"So how are we not Guards, Specialist Glamerspear?"

"Because..." In one swift move, she hopped into the air and landed on her back, lying on the couch. "... We get to be in Society."

At that, Artemis felt her expression relax. She began to grin as she started thinking about all the great ponies she was going to get to meet. And the parties she'd get to attend! And the stories she'd share with her new mare friends! "Yeah... Yeah we do!"

Glamerspear waved a hoof at the pegasus. "Aw, you're not so bad, Sparks. You can call me Glam, by the way."

Trotting over, Artemis took Lily's hoof and gave it a shake before hopping up onto one of the chairs. If Artemis was to guess, the seat was probably a far cry from anything a Lord or Lady could sit on, and while it was no cloud, it was way comfier than anything in the barracks. "Pleasure to meet you."

"So, what's your story, Sparks?"

"Well, I'm from Berry -- that's a little town about two hours' train ride north of here."

"No offense, Sparks, but anybody can tell you're not from a big city. Or even a small city."

'How did she know?' Sparkshower guessed she still had some country traits to shake off, especially if she wanted to fit in with high society in Canterlot!

"... But you're not from Cloudsdale? I thought that's where all the pegasi lived."

At that, Artemis started to beam with pride. "Most of them, sure. But my family's been living in Berry for generations. Us and the earth pony farmers who depend on us for the weather, we go way back, like one big team."

"Swell. And you've been in the Guard, what, like two-and-a-half years? Made Specialist recently?"

Another point of pride. Artemis hoped she wasn't getting too rosy-cheeked about all this. "Actually, I've only served for a year and a half! I got an early promotion for outstanding work during that recent Crystal Empire Incident."

Despite her cynicism, Sparkshower's squadmare seemed suitably impressed.

"Neat. They don't let just anybody get VIP duty, so I knew you must have had something going for you."

Artemis wasn't entirely sure if that was a compliment or an insult.

"What about me, you ask? WELL, I've been earning top marks in my company - Air Defense, in case you forgot - ever since I left 'shoe camp. I've been at this for five years, you know." Glam shot Sparkshower a grin. "... So if you need any tips, rookie, you just let me know, ho-kay?"

"I will! Thanks."

There was a moment of silence when neither of them could quite figure out what to say next. It was all so much to take in at once.

It was during this silence that Corporal Bound strolled out of her room. Fortunately, Artemis managed to suppress the urge to shout 'At ease' once again.

"Sparkshower, you have first duty tomorrow. Glamerspear, you've got the afternoon. Until then, we've got the day off. I'm going to head over to the commissary to get some books and magazines. Either of you want anything?"

Sparkshower was first to make her request. "Oh! I'd love a copy of 'Canterlot Match'!"

Glamerspear tilted her head all the way back over the armrest to look upside-down at CPL Bound. "I've got some bits in my duffel bag if you could get me the latest issue of 'Cosmoponitan.'"

"Don't worry about the bits. It's my treat to get us all off on the right hoof."

"Gee, thanks, Corporal!"

Corporal Bound gave Artemis a defeated look. "Call me 'Honour' when we're informal, Specialist. That's my first name."

"Sure thing, Corporal Honour Bound! I mean... Honour."

"As you were."

The door was barely shut behind her when Glam spoke up again. "There goes somemare who's been in the Guard for too long."

'In the Guard too long? Was such a thing even possible?' "Why do you think that?"

"Well, duh, just look at her! And listen to how she talks! She's done everything already! There's nothing new under Celestia's sun for her."

It made sense, but it didn't seem like something very nice to be bringing up.

"... Well, if she wants something new and exciting, VIP duty is the right place, right, Sparks?"

"Heh, yeah. Though if I'm being honest, just about everything is new and exciting to me around here."

"Aw, that's the spirit! And so what if we have to deal with a bit of a freakshow, right?"

"Freakshow?!"

At Artemis' exclamation, Glamerspear dialed back her enthusiasm quite a bit, her ears going flat against her head.

"Sorry. That was too harsh."

There was a pause.

"I mean our charge, this Anon guy."

Artemis recalled Anonymous' formal title when she was given her marching orders. "Anonymous, By Appointment to Their Majesties Princess Celestia and Princess Luna, Royal Engineer."

"Yeah. Gotta admit it's a fancy title, though. And he may look a little weird, but if Princess Celestia puts up with him, he can't be all that bad," Lily acquiesced.

"I've only met the Princess once before, at graduation, but it seemed to me like she doesn't just 'put up with him'."

"Oh, you think so? Well, you're the Armoured Recon, I guess. Still, he's pretty funny-looking, right?" She flipped over forward onto her belly faster than seemed possible to Artemis. Glamerspear looked up at her with a grin. "Betcha you never saw anything that walks around on two legs like that growing up in 'Berry', am I right?"

"Well... there was a minotaur who lived just outside the town, near the forest."

"Oooooh! Was he all scary and mysterious?"

Artemis shook her head. 'This mare sure has an active imagination. And she thought I had my head in the clouds?' "No, he was just an old bull. He used to pick mushrooms in the forest and bring them to market. And the earth ponies would sometimes ring him up when they needed help moving something real big."

"Bo-ring! Now, Changelings, those things are creepy. Hey -- you know what the difference between a young Changeling and an old Changeling is?"

"No, what?"

Glamerspear rolled over onto her back again, thrusting her forehooves up into the air. "You don't have to lead the old Changelings quite so much when you're shooting at 'em!" Glamerspear made 'pew-pew' noises with her mouth while swinging her forearms like she was hurling invisible spears up at the sky.

While her antics seemed silly, to be fair, she'd probably actually done that. Oh, thunderstorms, was this going to be an interesting assignment!

Still, though... a chance to experience Canterlot society, at last!

Chapter 3

Artemis Sparkshower

It was the start of a new day, and Artemis Sparkshower was making the final preparations for her first first-shift of VIP duty. Time to make the final checks before taking up her post! Turning to the small mirror in the common room, Artemis gave herself one last look-over.

Armour: Polished to a shine, and securely fitted without being uncomfortable.
Helmet: Also polished to a shine and securely attached.
Crest brush: Starched and firm.
Hoof-spats: Present, shiny, and well-fitted.
Wings: Preened.
Tail: Brushed.
Spear: In hoof.

'Everything is a go!' Heading down the servant's stairway from their shared quarters, Artemis quickly arrived at her destination. With a deep breath, she reached up with her free hoof before firmly rapping on the double doors to the Royal Engineer's chambers.

"Come in."

Artemis pushed open the doors and entered. "Specialist Sparkshower reporting for duty, sir!"

She instinctively started to take in the details, even as she introduced herself. To her right, Anonymous was just getting up from where he was sitting at a dining table, wearing his suit pants and white shirt, with a napkin stuffed into his collar. In front of him was a plate with a half-eaten bagel. Beside it, a glass of water, and a stack of papers. Glancing around, she found that the room was typical of the larger private chambers in the palace. in the right corner was the dining area with a table for six and a china cabinet. Ahead of her, just inside the doors, was the living area, furnished with an elegant sofa, three sitting chairs, a coffee table, and a buffet server on each side, partitioning the area off. To the left, an office or working area contained a large bureau desk covered in papers and books, several wooden filing cabinets, a pair of glass-doored bookshelves full of books and scrolls, and a pair of smaller desks with writing chairs.

"Oh, excellent. Welcome, Specialist," Anonymous greeted, while placing a sheet of paper down on the table.

She bowed her head, still surveying the layout of the room.

The left wall was all windows with heavy, blue patterned curtains. Prench doors behind the bureau lead out to a twenty-foot-deep paved patio that followed the contours of the building wall all the way around the corner and out of Artemis' sight. A short wall of decorated wooden partition pieces separated off what was obviously the sleeping area at the rear of the room, while the door on the right led to the chamber's washroom.

"... So, do you normally stand outside, or...?"

Artemis instantly recalled her Very Important Pony bodyguard training. "Sir! Typically, the bodyguards are posted inside the doors to a VIP's chambers, but may be dismissed outside as needed, such as for privacy."

Anonymous seemed to accept this, and sat back down. "I see. Well, by all means, take up your post in here. I'm just finishing breakfast."

Nodding her head, she closed the door behind her, and sat down in front of the entryway. Meanwhile, Anonymous picked up the sheet and continued to read it, munching on his bagel. Having taken in the general structure of the room, she started to examine the finer details.

And what fine details they were! The classical luxury surrounding her was almost overwhelming. The carpet was a rich red with an elaborate floral pattern. The furniture was mahogany wood, upholstered in blue with white embroidered check. The table tops were all marble. A stately lighthouse clock dominated the far side of the sitting area. A number of gas lamps were neatly arranged on side-tables around the room, all with beautiful, bulbous glass shades. Oh, and the ceiling! An elaborate trim around the edges served as the frame for a wonderful floral plaster pattern.

She could get lost in that ceiling.

Still, it's all in keeping with the palace's general style. When she was accepted for VIP duty, Artemis was received in the Marshal's palace chambers, and they were similarly decorated. But that was just for a few minutes! She was going to be in this beautiful room for eight full hours! A guard didn't get to sit on anything, sure, but just being in the presence of such opulence was exciting. And there were so many little details about everything to notice!

Over in the dining area, the Royal Engineer stood up again, pulling his napkin off and placing it on the table, before gathering up some of his papers. Without a second thought, he crossed the room to the office area and was just about to sit down at the great desk, before looking up at Artemis.

"I'm afraid your shift today will be a bit dull, Specialist. I'm going to be working on this treatise all day, and I'm not expecting any visitors."

This, too, was covered by her training. "Not a problem, sir. It's all part of the job. And I did volunteer for this position."

Her charge seemed to accept this answer, and sat down.

He picked up one of his pen-quills, and was just about to dip it in the pot of ink, when he paused and looked up at the specialist again. "Did anything in particular make you want to volunteer for this work?"

Okay, now she was getting a bit into uncharted territory. Training covered how to behave, but not how to answer personal questions. What should she say? Before she could figure how to answer, Anonymous shook his head, dipping his pen into the inkwell.

"I apologize; that was a personal question and I shouldn't oblige you to answer it. Please forget I asked."

Part of her was relieved, but another part of her sort of wished that he hadn't dropped it. After all, conversation would pass the time. But Artemis knew that it would be inappropriate to occupy her VIP's precious time. It was nice of him to be a gentlecolt about it, though.

Artemis straightened her posture and leaned her spear against her shoulder, adopting a pose the pegasus knew she could comfortably keep for hours.

She was more than halfway through her shift. Since Anonymous had started working, the only noteworthy activity was one of the palace butlers, accompanied by a maid, arriving to clear away his breakfast. Otherwise, it was just the Royal Engineer reading, writing, shuffling papers, flipping pages and occasionally standing up to get another book or bundle of papers. Right then, her charge was standing and leaning over his desk, rearranging his documents. By his manner, Artemis could tell he was looking for something. By the fact that he was scrabbling over the same areas again and again, she could tell he was getting frustrated at not finding it.

"Where the devil did I put that book?" Anonymous muttered, half under his breath.

Instantly, Sparkshower recalled an hour ago, when Anonymous had gotten up to pour himself a glass of water from a carafe in the sitting area. He'd had a book in his hands, and he'd put it down on the coffee table, amidst a stack of sealed scrolls.

She cleared her throat. "That book, sir?" Anonymous looked up, and Artemis pointed at the item in question. He strode over and picked it up, immediately flipping through it to a certain page. Satisfied, he looked up at her.

"How did you know which one I was talking about?"

"It's the only book in the room not in a case or on your desk, sir."

He turned and took the measure of the area, as if verifying the specialist's statement, then faced her again, clutching the book. "Armored Reconnaissance, wasn't it?"

Her lips curled up into a smile. "Yes, sir."

The Royal Engineer shook the book in acknowledgement. "Sharp eyes. My thanks, Specialist Sparkshower."

With that, he headed back over to his desk and continued to work. It was such a small thing, getting a compliment like that for so trivial a task, but inside Artemis was swelling with pride. She volunteered for guard duty in order to get to know Canterlot society. She wanted a life in the Royal Guard, with an eye towards maybe even trying to become an officer one day, and that meant dealing with the upper crust. Even her commanding officer thought it was a good idea for her, though he expressed his regrets about missing the specialist's abilities while she was on this assignment. But if she could still put her talents to good use, even if it was just to help her assigned VIP get their work done, that was all the better. Even though it had only been five hours, Artemis felt that this posting was going to work out just fine.

Chapter 4

Lily Glamerspear

It was four o'clock in the afternoon, and Specialist Glamerspear was lookin' good. She'd deliberately taken the long route from her shared quarters to get downstairs, the better to show off.

‘That's right, everypony! Take a good look, because this is no ordinary guardsmare!’

If the special Telekinetic Specialist helmet, or the lightweight, high-mobility banded armor instead of heavy, solid plate, or the absence of a physical spear (as if I'd need one!), or the elegant skirt for cushioning her when she had to sit or lie down to hit targets way up there didn't make it clear enough, she'd made sure that her tail was impeccably groomed. Her mane peeked just down low enough under her helmet to tease the fantastic hair underneath.

And, of course, one must show off the proper gait. There'd be no slow, shambling walk, or "I'm late for duty" gallop for her. Only the most prim and proper trot would do for showing off. And just in case that didn't seal the deal, she'd even kept her magical 'umbrella' shield up at maintenance-level power for the whole trip to her post. Just as if she'd been there on alert.

‘That's right, colts. This unicorn isn't just gorgeous and well-heeled, she knows exactly how to use every part of her body.’

But she didn't let her satisfaction show. She wouldn't even let it show that she’d noticed anypony at all on her way there. Especially not that stud-muffin Captain Mailedhoof, with the handsome silver hair. He was married, but that hadn't stopped him from checking Glamerspear out, from mane to hooves. Yeah, a few more trots by his post like that and he'd be extending an invitation to the Officers' Club. Just as a friendly way of getting to know a fresh face in the palace, of course.

That's what he'd tell everypony, anyway. And maybe she wouldn't even do anything with him... After all, once she'd gotten into the Officers' Club, why settle for a Captain when she could find a salt-daddy Major or General with the means to really treat a mare right?

Ah, the challenging life of an aggressive saltine. So many colts with sacks of bits burning holes in their pockets, looking for some fun to have on the side. So hard to choose which one to make her new salt-lick. With thoughts of Captain Mailedhoof in her mind (Lily figured that even if he's not too rich, at least he looked like he could buck real good; he could be worth a few trips around the quarter-mile, at least), specialist Glamerspear knocked on the Royal Engineer's door.

It was time for work.

"Who goes there?"

"Specialist Glamerspear, reporting for guard duty."

Sparkshower opened the door for her, both of the mares saluting before exchanging the ritual greeting.

"By the glory of the Morning Dawn, I hereby relieve you at this post."

"By the peace of the Evening Dusk, I stand relieved."

Artemis started to leave, but Lily quickly leaned over and whispered in her ear. "Anything interesting happen?"

"Oh, no. The Royal Engineer is busy with paperwork today," came Sparkshower's quiet response.

Over on Glamerspear's left, Anonymous hadn't so much as looked up from his desk as Artemis shut the door behind the unicorn specialist. Oh, well. More time to plan her 'infiltration' of the Royal Guard Officers' Club. Heh. Soon, that wouldn't be the only 'O Club' she'd be visiting.

It was almost eight o'clock in the evening, with four hours until her shift ended. Outside, it was drizzling rain. The Royal Engineer had been working at his desk the entire time, like some kind of machine. Well from what she'd heard, wasn't that the idea? He was supposed to know all about machines and such, right? It would be interesting if it weren't so desperately boring. To her left, Anonymous leaned back in his chair stretching his arms above his head in an extended yawn.

It seemed that he was putting away his quill for tonight. Part of her hoped that he'd had dinner plans with someone important, but from the looks of things, that was not likely. He'd already removed his jacket, and had started to undo his tie. Turning towards the window, Anonymous scowled.

"Damn, when did it start to rain?"

Lily wasn't sure if that was directed at her, but then again, there was nobody else in the room. "It started about an hour ago, Sir."

"Oh, did it? Drat. I was hoping to take a constitutional outside."

‘So? Get an umbrella? It's only drizzling. Some Royal Engineer he is, if he can't handle some water.’

"Well, I suppose a little rain won't hurt." Anonymous started to unbutton his shirt, and walked over to the zig-zag hairpin-joint in the partition wall, leading into the bedroom area. "You won't mind getting wet, will you, Specialist Glamerspear?"

‘Heh. As if you would allow yourself to get wet in rain.’

Magical anti-missile shields were necessary when angry griffons were hurling spears down like rain, but they're also useful against the regular, watery kind.

"I don't get wet in the rain, Sir."

Anonymous reappeared from his room, but he was dressed in just... his white undershirt and undershorts? His arms and legs had been left completely exposed, revealing that they were bare and furless in nature, just like his face. Freaky! He was sporting some fancy sneakers, though. Still, Glamerspear could not be seen walking through Canterlot Palace with someone dressed like that, no matter who appointed them to what.

The Royal Engineer regarded the mare with a quizzical look. "Would you care to explain that, Specialist? I'm not sure I understand."

As though it were the most trivial thing in Equestria (‘newsflash: it was, because I'm the best at this’), she instantly conjured up her anti-missile shield, in the form of a translucent, magenta hemisphere that stretched from her horn to just an inch above the ground.

"Ah, yes, of course. Unicorn magic." He walked over, picking up a glass of water along the way, and with a swift jerk of his hand, sent its contents flying at her. Of course, it splashed harmlessly against Glamerspear's shield. "I don't suppose you can make that large enough for two, can you?"

‘Hah. That sounded like a cheesy come-on line I’ve heard before.’ "Sir, this soldier can indefinitely maintain an impenetrable shield over an area twenty-five meters in diameter."

The Royal Engineer looked impressed. As well he should be! Most of the unicorns the air-defense company could only manage half that.

"Impressive. If you'll oblige me, I think that'll be more than enough. Let's head out through the balcony, into the gardens."

Glamerspear heaved an internal sigh of relief. ‘Oh, thank Celestia I don’t have to escort him through the palace halls dressed like that.’ If Captain Mailedhoof was still on duty (unlikely, admittedly), being seen with a gangly, bipedal monkey-creature wearing silly white undergarments would have completely scuttled her "O Club" operation. Nopony else was likely to be out in the gardens by this time of evening, especially in this weather. Her VIP could get his little walk in, and she wouldn't even have to be seen with him. Still, if this was going to be a regular occurrence, maybe she should see about trading shifts with Sparkshower.

After all, why take chances?

Chapter 6

Lily Glamerspear

"Specialist Glamerspear reporting for duty, sir." It was the following morning. Thank Celestia, Sparkshower had agreed to switch shifts with her. She was a real pal. Lily definitely owed her for that, and for last night. Lily decided she would probably start by getting Sparks the next issue of Canterlot Match at the commissary that afternoon.

"Oh, good morning, Specialist."

Anonymous, their Very Important Pony, who isn't actually a pony, briefly looked at her from where he was hunched over his large writing desk. As she shut the door behind her, he dipped his quill in his inkwell and resumed writing.

"...I thought Specialist Sparkshower was assigned to service me in the mornings?"

'Service him?’

‘Heh.'

Lily Glamerspear didn't know Anonymous well enough to know if he'd meant that as a double-entendre, but it didn't sound like it.

"I traded places with her, sir. The original assignments can be restored if you have any objections."

"No, no objections. I just hope I didn't wear you out last night with all that cavorting about."

OK, that must have been... But, no, he was still completely absorbed by his writing. It was just his manner of speech.

"Not at all, sir. I enjoy a good evening gallop through the garden." Damn it, now he had her making Faustian slips. Lily had to suck in the last syllable when she realized what she'd been saying.

Anonymous sat his quill to one side and looked up at her, with one eye cocked. "Your tone, Specialist, leads me to believe that you do not entirely approve of my evening exercise regimen. Is there a problem?"

'Ah, crap.'

She bit her lip. "No, sir." Lily tried her best to get composed and into her position in front of the door, but Anon just blinked his eyes, continuing to look at her.

"Please speak freely, Specialist. This isn't my native land, and I'm not familiar with your customs. I've been on my best behavior, but it would certainly be of benefit to me to hear if I have made a misstep."

That was fair, she supposed, but she did know how her big mouth could get her into trouble. Trying to hold it in was tearing her up!

She decided to take a chance. "Well, sir, if you'd like my personal opinion, I don't believe that Celestia's rose garden is an appropriate place for galloping about like that."

Anonymous sat up and put his quill to one side. "I see. And is there somewhere else you would suggest?"

Luckily, Sparkshower had given her the answer for this, too. How did she manage to get the lay of the palace grounds so quickly?

Just pegasus things, she supposed.

"Sir, Canterlot Palace's one-and-a-half-mile oval track is just behind the poplars lining the eastern boulevard."

"Really? Well, that will certainly do. Provided I'm allowed to use it, of course."

"I can certainly make inquiries regarding that on your behalf, sir."

"Please do, Specialist Glamerspear. And thank-you."

He smiled and nodded in her direction. Success! She definitely owed Sparks more than a few issues of that gossip rag. Anonymous reached for his quill, and on a mad impulse she would regret microseconds later, Lily took another leap of faith. "There is something else, I would care to suggest, sir, as a matter of decorum."

He pulled his hand back and leaned back into his chair, elbows on his armrests and fingers clasped in front of him. "If I had known that taking an evening jog could raise issues of decorum, I would have made more dedicated inquiries beforehand..." Anonymous motioned to her with an open hand. "... Pray continue, Specialist Glamerspear."

He'd asked for feedback, but speaking honestly like that... well, it was not something that typically advanced a pony in the VIP service. VIP duty was supposed to be all about looking good and keeping your mouth shut, with maybe a little extra on the side, depending. It was not supposed to be about awkwardly telling hairless monkeys that their exercise clothes were embarrassingly unfashionable - especially not if they were highly-placed members of Princess Celestia's court!

Glamerspear swallowed and stared straight ahead, avoiding his gaze. "There is the matter of your 'jogging' attire, sir."

Anonymous said nothing, leaving Lily's words to just hang in the air for a moment.

She licked her lips, and continued. "...It is undignified for a gentlecolt of your stature in the court to be seen in public in such an outfit."

She heard the creak of his chair as he stood up. "Would it interest you to know that I arrived in Equestria in those clothes? Unintentionally, of course."

'Welp, so long cushy VIP posting. Back to boring standby duty at the barracks.' She hoped she hadn't just screwed things up for Sparks & Honour; they didn't deserve any backlash for her own misstep.

"...I just happened to be out on a jog when it happened. There was a thundershower in the forecast, but I thought I could get around the neighborhood before it hit."

He was walking toward her.

Going to make her dismissal personal, she guessed.

"... I remember a bit of growling in the sky, and quickening my pace. My home was just around the corner, you see. And then... All I remember is a clap of thunder, and a bright flash, and the feeling of my head hitting the dirt."

Jeez, he was really laying it in. She wasn't just getting fired, she was getting his life story, too.

It was like she'd offended him, and his family, and his ancestors, and his gods, too.

"... So I guess you could say putting that outfit on again reminds me of home, a bit."

He started chuckling. "... Frankly, I'm more surprised that it wasn't torn to shreds by whatever ripped me out of my reality and into this one."

Anonymous, the Royal Engineer of Equestria, was standing just in front of Lily, and practically looming over her.

"... Anyways, I suppose you're perfectly correct and my cotton joggers are completely unfit now that I've taken up residence in this place's equivalent of Buckingham Palace."

'Did he just swear?’

‘What kind of palace has a curse-word name?’

‘Wait, did he just agree with you?’

"... So what do you suggest I wear, instead?"

The Royal Engineer, bipedal mostly-hairless monkey creature, was looking at Lily with an easygoing smile.

'Wow, arrow bucking dodged.'

"Uh, well... Something with a pattern, at least?" Her voice did not squeak at the end.

Anonymous' expression switched to confused amusement. Lily let out the breath she'd been holding in for about a minute now. Breathing in, Lily Glamerspear continued. "... Listen, sir, your current outfit is very fashionable. Couldn't you get whoever made you that to make you some exercise wear as well? Something that's not quite so baggy-"

He immediately objected. "It's just loose-fitting."

"It's baggy, sir. And plain white simply won't do."

Anonymous paused to get himself a glass of water from a carafe on the console table. "Anything else?"

"No, sir. And, I should say, sir, that if you exercise around the outside of the oval track, this soldier is more than capable of keeping pace with you using the inside lane."

Anon took a drink and nodded his head. "Something to keep in mind for rainy days, certainly." The Royal Engineer regarded the specialist with anticipation.

"That's all, sir."

Anonymous nodded. "Excellent. I appreciate your candor, Specialist Glamerspear. I would greatly appreciate it if you continued to be candid with me in these matters."

He was going to take your advice, and he wanted more? Sweet! Well, Princess Celestia hadn't named him Royal Engineer for nothing, had she? It made sense that he had a good head on his shoulders.

"As we're already speaking candidly, I was curious about a few elements of your training, if you would care to indulge me."

'This should be good.' "Of course, sir."

"In your capacity as an air defense soldier, I was wondering how you dealt with spotting targets that might be set against a bright sky, or far away? After all, you can only hit something you can see, correct?"

Specialist Glamerspear allowed herself to make eye contact with the Royal Engineer, and gave him a nod. "Yes, sir. It's funny you should ask that given that we've just been talking about clothing..." she brought one hoof up to the side of her head and pointed at her helmet. "... Perhaps you noticed that my helmet differed from those of Specialist Sparkshower and Corporal Bound? Besides the cut-out for my horn, of course?" Anonymous leaned in slightly to inspect her headgear before she continued. "...This is a Martingale-Locksteed Mark III Air Defense Assisted Targeting helmet. With the push of a button…” She depressed the catch lever, and with a satisfying snap, two amber lenses slid out to cover her eyes, joining in the middle from their housings on the sides of the helmet, just behind her temples. "... the operator can activate a variety of lenses, appropriate for various sky conditions, and providing a two-times optical magnification."

After giving Anonymous enough time to inspect the first set of amber lenses (good for bright overcast days), Lily pressed the catch lever again and again, swapping out magnified amber lenses, then pink (for dusk and dawn), then magnified-pink, then grey (meant for clear sunny days), then magnified-grey, and finally back to nothing at all.

The Royal Engineer seemed impressed.

Well, he should be! This was some sweet gear, and it’s the latest model, too. Of course, only a talented soldier like her was capable of making full use of it.. Two-times magnification was useless to the unicorns that couldn't get their shots to reach more than a hundred meters up in the air. And that was the overwhelming majority of them in the battalion.

"Clever design."

"Yes, sir. Furthermore, Air Defense soldiers never work alone, but are organized into batteries of three to five gunners and one spotter, equipped with a spotting telescope or pair of binoculars."

"Sensible. I'd love to see it in action."

"Sir, firing exercises are held weekly at Fort Horseshoe Bend."

"I'll have to make the trip sometime." He stood up straight once again, grasping his hands to the breasts of his jacket. "Well, Specialist Glamerspear, thank you for indulging my curiosity. And thank you again for the wardrobe advice; I'll see about placing an order for something more fashionable."

Looking him in the eyes, she gave a salute. "It is a guard's duty to serve, sir."

The Royal Engineer gave her a small bow. "And I appreciate your service, Specialist. Thank you." With his water cup in hand, Anonymous turned and walked back to his desk.

Well, how about that! They'd told her when she signed up for this that VIPs were almost inevitably demanding, inconsiderate, stuck-up bucking assholes. It didn't matter too much to Lily; the rewards were more than worth the potential suffering. But assuming Anonymous followed through and wasn't just humoring her, it looked like she'd hit the jackpot! She'd better ask Sparks to switch places again, because it looked like 'The Glam putting the moves on Captain Mailedhoof' was back on again. After that brief roller-coaster of stress and relief, Lily Glamerspear settled in for a pleasant, and likely uneventful, eight-hour shift.

'Oh, you're going to be my ticket straight to a Colonel or General a month from now, Mailedhoof.’

'Unf, and that croup of his...'

Chapter 7

Artemis Sparkshower

"Specialist Glamerspear, by the glory of the Morning Dawn, I hereby relieve you at this post."

It was the afternoon shift change, and Specialist Artemis Sparkshower, 19D Armored Scout, presently of the VIP Section, Canterlot Palace Military Office, Household Division, was reciting the ritual changing-of-the-guard call.

"Specialist Sparkshower, by the peace of the Evening Dusk, I stand relieved."

Before her, Specialist Glamerspear, 14E Air Defense, saluted her as she recited her half of the call-and-response. Of course, no 19D had ever relieved a 14E in the field; this sort of exchange could only happen on by far the most unusual duty available to soldiers of any senior enlisted rank: serving as bodyguard to a Very Important Pony.

Her particular VIP, who isn't actually a pony, was over to her left, sitting at his large bureau and scribbling furiously away with his quill. It was exactly how he'd spent the majority of her first shift yesterday morning. Besides the bouts of walking around looking for books or documents, of course.

Royal Engineer Anonymous looked up at Artemis from his desk. "Good afternoon, Specialist Sparkshower."

"Good afternoon, sir."

She shut the door behind her, hearing the sound of Glamerspear trotting off in the distance. From the direction of the sound of her hoofsteps, she was taking the long way back upstairs to their quarters. Probably planning to strut by Captain Mailedhoof again.

"I had a little discussion with Specialist Glamerspear this morning. Apparently, she found a few of my habits unbecoming of my station."

She brought it up with him? That was bold. Their instruction was clear: VIP bodyguards were supposed to be seen and not heard. But then again, Glamerspear struck the pegasus as a pretty bold pony.

"... I just wanted to mention that if you had any such similar advice, now or at any time later, I would be glad to hear it."

"Yes, sir. Of course, sir."

Anonymous looked at Artemis expectantly.

She shouldered her spear.

"...Uhhh.... This soldier has no advice for you at this time, sir, as she has not yet witnessed anything she would consider unbecoming, sir."

Over at his desk, her charge chuckled "I suppose you didn't see me do very much yesterday." He pushed his chair away from his desk and stood up, walking over to the lighthouse clock in the center of the room. "...I'm afraid today doesn't promise to be much different, although I am expecting a visitor in an hour or so." The Royal Engineer turned and strode back over to his writing desk. "... Which reminds me, would delivering a written message be within your duties in my service?"

"Yes, sir! Of course, sir! This soldier is more than capable of hoof-delivering any notes on your behalf."

Courier duty in the Guard as a whole was considered pretty 'low' work, being usually little more than shuttling notes from one snooty officer to another. But VIP Courier duty, on the other hoof, promised a wealth of excitement! Rushing important government documents to members of the Court! Fetching great tomes from the depths of the most arcane libraries! Rescuing their VIP from social situations with quick deliveries of important sundries! Maybe even... delivering a romantic letter to someone your VIP admires? Sealed with a kiss, of course! Oooh, the idea of that last one got her giddy like a brisk sun-shower.

The Royal Engineer's voice interrupted her thoughts before they could run home with the idea. "Your comrade made some recommendations as to my exercise wardrobe. Would you deliver this note to the Bridle Path Clothiers, in Poole Street? They're the tailors who've supplied the rest of my wardrobe so far."

While Artemis was daydreaming of all the fancy kinds of letters she might deliver, Anonymous had somehow materialized in front of her with a folded piece of paper for the pegasus to deliver. She took it, and put it respectfully into a small saddle bag at her left hip, before turning and giving a salute.

"Shall I deliver this immediately, sir?"

"Yes, please do. I expect Purse Strings to be here soon to go over the ledger figures."

"Of course, sir! And, since you asked, sir, I may say that it would be most unbecoming for you to receive him without your escort present, sir."

Anonymous arched his eyebrows at her. "Oh, really? It seems there is more to your service than just protection and prestige."

"Yes, sir! Once a VIP is known to be escorted by bodyguards, then for them to go un-escorted is a sign of informality and casualness. A courtly personage such as the Chancellor of the Exchequer might be offended you were becoming too familiar."

"Interesting."

Artemis saluted once more and reached for the door handle.

"... By the way, Specialist. 'Armored Scout' is your formal job title, isn't it?"

She lowered her hoof and turned back to her charge. "Yes, Sir! 19D Armored Scout, formerly of the 1st Pegasus Infantry Division, 4th Armored Regiment!"

"I was curious, what distinguishes an 'Armored' Scout from any other kind?"

Like a summer gale, that question came a bit out of nowhere.

"Uhh... Well, sir, an Armored Scout is armed and armored more heavily than ordinary scout ponies." Describing her ordinary military service was one of the things she'd been told to prepare for in VIP training. Apparently, VIPs sometimes liked to hear of a soldier's particular training, or be regaled with stories of valorous combat. The classroom MOS training came rushing back, and Artemis found herself reciting her instructor's description almost word-for-word.

"Whereas ordinary scouts are expected to either infiltrate the enemy lines by avoiding contact, or to retreat in the face of anything more than enemy scouting parties, an Armored Scout team is expected to be able to break through enemy lines by overwhelming forward screening elements. Armored Scouts can put other Scout units to flight, force screens to retreat, work to disrupt communication lines, and make their way deep enough to reconnoiter the main enemy force."

She clanged her armored left hoof into her chest in the 'clashing salute' of the armored divisions of the Royal Guard.

"... Sir, you may have noticed that this soldier carries a bronze longspear, the heaviest and longest-reaching weapon in the Royal Arsenal. This soldier is also wearing a bronze cuirass in four pieces: backplate, breastplate, criniere, and croupiere. You may notice, sir, the epaulets built into the backplate to protect the base of the wings as well."

As she went over the parts of her panoply, she made sure to indicate them clearly to her VIP, gesturing with her head, her hooves and her wings as needed. She also gave him a moment to get a closer look, and the Royal Engineer seemed genuinely interested.

"... Additionally, this soldier is equipped with a full-coverage bascinet helmet with visor and chain aventail which attaches to the criniere. Armored Scouts are also outfitted with four bronze sabatons and four two-piece greaves covering both front and back of the shins."

Presenting her equipment like this reminded her of inspection time back in horseshoe camp. Except there wasn't a Drill Sergeant neighing spittle all over her face for a speck of dirt on her sabatons. Instead, she only had the Royal Engineer standing before her, holding his chin in one hand and his elbow with the other.

He really did have long legs.

No wonder Glamerspear had trouble keeping up with him.

"Thusly equipped, an Armored Scout such as this soldier is capable of fending off any light advance unit the enemy can field, and is on equal terms with the armored main elements of the enemy force."

"Fascinating. But all that equipment must weigh quite a lot, no?"

"Sir, this soldier's loadout weighs in at forty pounds dead, which almost doubles an ordinary guardspony's twenty-five-pound load. But with extensive training comes familiarity with the equipment, and the Armored divisions are considered the heavy-fighting elite of the Royal Guard."

"I see. Thank you, Specialist, for that lesson in armor and tactics. Now, don't let me keep you from delivering that note any longer, lest I find myself without an escort when the Chancellor arrives."

"Yes, sir! Although I should say, sir, that if you found yourself in such a situation, at least one of my comrades upstairs is normally on standby duty for such service as well."

Anonymous gave Artemis a smile. "Good to know, Specialist. See you back here soon."

She gave another hearty salute, opened the door, stepped outside, respectfully closed the door behind her, and then sprung into the air.

Armored courier message delivery, coming through!

Traffic, step aside!

It was a little after five o'clock in the afternoon. To Artemis' left, Royal Engineer Anonymous was sitting at his desk, with Chancellor of the Exchequer Purse Strings sitting in front of him. Since he'd arrived, they had just been reading numbers together. Anonymous would call out a numbered line...

"Okay, next, line three-hundred-and-twelve: one million, three hundred and forty-seven thousand, two hundred and sixty-eight"

... and then Purse Strings would reply...

"Line three-hundred-and-twelve: one million, three hundred and forty-seven thousand, two hundred and sixty-eight. Correct."

The exchange has been going on for half an hour so far. The Chancellor's own bodyguard had been at her charge's side the whole time, dressed in light armor and serving more as a valet, handing him various books and scrolls with numbers on them.

Since all the numbers had been just 'line such-and-such', it was as clear as a black storm-cloud to her. All she could make out was that it was some kind of accounting. It reminded her of the kind of work the intelligence officers did with her scouting reports, but these numbers were on a whole other level. Line thirty-three, whatever it was, was over ten billion. Imagine having to count that many enemies in a field! She didn't think ten billion Changelings could even fit within her field of view. And ten billion dragons could probably cover all of Equestria.

"Okay, last one: line three-hundred-and-thirteen: forty-six."

That was by far the smallest number the Royal Engineer had said since it had started.

"Line three-hundred-and-thirteen: forty-seven. I think you have last year's number there, Anon; there was a singular addition this year so far."

There was a shuffling of papers as the Royal Engineer flipped over to another book. The Chancellor had been addressing him as "Anon". So much for him possibly being offended at Anonymous appearing to be overly familiar!

"I wrote down that I got it from... last year's census. Okay, corrected: line three-hundred-and-thirteen is forty-seven. And that's that!" With an exhausted whinny, Anonymous put down his quill and rubbed his eyes.

Purse Strings closed the book in front of him and, smirking, passed it back to his bodyguard. "Nothing quite like some book-balancing to close out a week, eh?"

The Royal Engineer yawned and chuckled in reply. "Not my idea of a relaxing Friday afternoon. Still, it had to be done."

The elder statespony let out a roaring laugh. "That's the spirit, my foal! But really, though, a young colt like you -- you ought to get out and do something on a fine night like this! Why, I don't believe you've left the castle since you were appointed to this position!"

Anonymous rolled his head to one side. "That's not true. I visited you at your house. And I must've toured a hundred facilities around Equestria..."

Purse Strings tutted, even as he helped his bodyguard pack up the rest of his papers and books. "Oh, come now. You know I meant besides work. Go visit the waterfalls! Browse the shops! Go see a show!" Turning, the Chancellor pointed a hoof at the Royal Engineer. "... Why, I'll tell you right now, Lady Strings and I saw the latest production at the Sardinia Theatre last week, and we absolutely loved it! Another operatic comedy by that brilliant duo, Gallop & Stallion, called 'The Magician'. Fantastic show; spectacular, really."

Leaning back in his chair, Anonymous looked a little sceptical. "A musical? But won't I have trouble getting tickets on short notice?"

Purse Strings shook his head dismissively. "Oh, hardly. It's been playing for weeks and weeks. Nearly at the end of the run. When we went, they were still neighing in the streets for last-minute purchasers when the doors opened for seating."

The Royal Engineer placed his fingers together and looked over in Artemis' direction. "Well, what do you think, Specialist? Would you care to comment on The Right Honorable Chancellor and Under-Treasurer of Their Majesties' Exchequer's recommendation?"

Before Artemis could answer, Purse Strings glanced over at her and spoke first. "Ah, yes. I forgot you'd joined the little club of Very Important Ponies earlier this week. If you go, you'll want to try to get a box seat."

Anonymous' confusion was plain on his face. "I will? Why?"

By the expression on the Chancellor's face, Purse Strings seemed hesitant to reply, so Artemis piped up. "Sir! In theatres and at other such performances, it is customary for a VIP's escort to stand guard in the hallway or, if the subject is in the general seating, against the wall of the nearest aisle."

Anonymous raised his eyebrows and glanced over at the Chancellor, who nodded in agreement.

"However, unless attending in the company of numerous fellow VIPs with their own escorts, or if one is a foreign plenipotentiary, it is considered uncouth and overly pompous to have one's bodyguards present in the audience room."

The Royal Engineer leaned forward in his chair and placed his elbows on the desk, his hands clasped together and pointing at Specialist Sparkshower. "I'm attending a show, and you have to either stand far away at the edge of the room, or preferably take up a post behind a curtain in the hallway where you won't even be able to see the performance?"

Everypony in the room nodded back at him, Artemis included.

Anonymous scoffed. "I'm sorry, but that's just ridiculous. Even if I were genuinely threatened, it sounds like you might easily be too far away to intervene..."

He turned to the Chancellor and shrugged his shoulders, spreading his arms.

"...Can't I just buy two tickets and have Specialist Sparkshower sit next to me?"

Purse Strings' eyes went wide, and he stammered. "Uh, err..." His bodyguard noisily cleared her throat, and the Chancellor regained his composure. "... Well, I suppose you could, if the mare doesn't object..."

Sparkshower was a little confused about the awkwardness she'd just witnessed. After all, the Royal Engineer's suggestion actually sounded like a neat idea! Imagine, guards sitting next to their VIPs, ready to leap into action at a moment's notice! Plus this way she would get to enjoy the show as well! How considerate of the Royal Engineer! And how fortunate for her to have such a generous charge! Artemis realized that Purse Strings was looking her up and down with a critical eye.

"...Of course, she can't be dressed like that. Theater seats aren't built to accommodate armor, after all."

Artemis' spirits remained un-dampened. "Oh, well, I have a dress I could put on instead! If The Royal Engineer was serious about the offer to see a musical performance, I mean!"

Anonymous looked pleased. "See, Purse? You're making a treasury out of a change-bag."

Purse Strings opened his mouth like he wanted to say something, but seemed to reconsider, and just shook his head as he headed toward the door. The Royal Engineer likewise got to his feet and pulled his dinner jacket off of a coat-rack in the corner, looking over at Artemis. "... Your break for supper is just about now, anyways, isn't it, Specialist? I'll order some food myself and expect you back here, ready to go to the theater in, oh, say, an hour and a half?"

He was serious! Hooray for clear skies and puffy clouds!

"Yes, sir! One-and-a-half hours, absolutely, sir!"

She pulled open the door for the Chancellor, who turned around just before leaving and gave a short bow to the Royal Engineer, who also returned it with a smile on his face.

Closing the door after his bodyguard followed, Artemis was giddy with glee.

Oh, just wait until she wrote back to Berry about this! Seeing a big, fancy Canterlot musical production in her own seat! How about that!

Anonymous tugged on the servants' bell-pull by the dining table, and a few moments later the butler arrived to take his order. Once he was done, the Royal Engineer picked up his newspaper and gave her a nod of dismissal. Artemis respectfully bowed and exited backwards out the door. As soon as the door was closed, she booked it upstairs with a huge smile on her face.

'Just wait until Glamerspear and Honour hear about this!'

Chapter 9

Honour Bound

A plain round clock hung on the wall of their shared living room, tick-tocking its way past midnight. Corporal Honour Bound, given that she had the morning shift tomorrow, was up way past her bedtime. But Glamerspear's story about Sparkshower being taken out to a show by her newly-acquired salt-lick, the Royal Engineer, was beyond belief, and she needed to find out what was going on for herself. The pink gossip herself was up, too, lounging on the sofa and reading another fashion magazine, ‘Pride Bazaar.’ She'd said she wanted to see if Sparkshower returned at all -- or if she would wind up spending the night with their VIP downstairs.

In her own faux-scandalized but obviously amused words, "If Sparks bagged the boss this quickly, maybe she's the kind of mare to buck on the first night, too!"

Sparkshower, however, didn't strike the Earth Pony as a typical saltine. Not like Glamerspear, who'd seemed to fully embrace the role. It takes one to know one, though, and Glamerspear certainly seemed convinced, but she wondered if the unicorn wasn't perhaps projecting onto the pegasus. If it was true, then so be it; it didn't really concern her either way. Based on the play schedule published in the Thursday edition of the Canterlot Star, the Royal Engineer and his escort ought to be returning to the castle right around then. Assuming he hadn't taken her for some kind of afters, of course.

"I'm telling you, Corporal, it'll be one in the morning and they won't be back yet, believe me."

Glamerspear clearly had her own ideas about their schedule and itinerary.

"Uh-huh." Honour barely lifted her eyes from the book in her hooves. Her professed indifference did nothing to temper Glamerspear's insistent curiosity. She laid her magazine down on her chest and put one hoof up to her lips.

"I wonder if she had to lead him into it at all. I guess I've only met him twice, but I've got a good sense for these things, and I never got the sense that he was even interested in ponies that way."

Honour wouldn't dignify that train of thought with an answer. She just prayed to Celestia that somepony come to deliver her from the foolishness of young guardsmares.

Just then, she made out the sound of hoofsteps on the carpet outside. Glamerspear must have heard them too, because she jerked her head towards the door, a look of excited anticipation on her face. Slowly, the door-handle turned, and then the door opened inward. Specialist Sparkshower cautiously poked her head into the room, and seemed surprised to see them both there.

"Oh, hello! I wasn't sure if you might be asleep, so I didn't want to wake anypony up."

She abandoned her attempt at stealth and stepped right in, still dressed in her cotillion ball-gown with its puffed sleeves.

It was outdated, just as Glamerspear said, but not so far out of style that it would be embarrassing; certainly not at the theater. As soon as the pegasus shut the door behind her, the unicorn launched right into the questions.

"So? How did it go?"

Patience was clearly not one of her virtues. But the object of her questioning didn't seem to mind her vice at all, because Sparkshower's face exploded into a smile like the fantasy was starting all over again.

"It was AMAZING! Oh, gosh, the costumes, the orchestra, singing, it was all fantastic! And the story was great!"

"Yeah? And how were the seats?"

"OH MY GOODNESS, THE SEATS!..."

There was a vaguely disturbing chain reaction of enthusiasm going over at the sofa.

"... When we got to the theater, the colt in the box office said that the main floor and mezzanine were sold out; all they had left was the balcony and boxes, so Anonymous decided to get us BOX SEATS!"

Glamerspear pumped her hoof like she was working a cash register.

"Nice! Big spender, cha-ching! And did he take you out for dinner, too?"

Sparkshower covered her mouth and giggled like it was a silly question. Honour was not yet convinced one way or the other about the nature of the evening's escapades, and the giggle could have meant anything.

"Oh, no, I'd already had dinner when I ran into you here before I got dressed."

Glamerspear scrunched up her face as if the evening had just been ruined.

"Aw, he didn't buy you dinner? What a cheapskate!"

Sparkshower was still grinning with her mouth, but her laugh in reply seemed a bit forced. Suddenly, Glamerspear's face lit up.

"... No, wait, that's BRILLIANT, Sparks! I see it now!" She tapped a hoof against her temple. "... Colts can't tell you're thirsty if you don't let 'em lead you to water."

Sparkshower still looked like she was forcing the smile a bit.

"... You've really got this down pat, Sparks. I'm impressed. But we've gotta get you into a new outfit before your next evening out -- using Anonymous' bits, of course."

With that, the forced smile was gone.

"What? Why would-- I mean, granted, he was very generous tonight buying me a box seat, but why would he buy me a new dress?"

It was Glamerspear's turn to laugh.

"Oh, Sparks, you poor, innocent, young mare..." She put one hoof on Sparkshower's shoulder, but the pegasus was left bewildered. "... The game isn't just about fancy nights out! Not for the ones you want to hold on to, at least. You're worth so much more -- and a proper colt should know how to treat a lady, after all."

Sparkshower shook her head, brow furrowed.

"I'm--- I'm sorry, Glamerspear. You've lost me. I'm not sure what we're talking about any more."

Glamerspear removed her hoof and laughed even harder.

"Come on, Sparks! I'm talking about the game! You're a player, aren't you?"

It had gotten to the point where the mare in the dress was rubbing her own shoulder uncomfortably.

"I... I don't think so? What game?"

Honour's pink-and-cyan unicorn took a step back, raising her voice and lifting up her forehooves in exasperation.

"THE game! You know, some wealthy so-and-so has a partner but wants a little fun on the side, no strings attached. Or maybe a certain single VIP has needs they need 'serviced', but aren't looking for a commitment. So along comes a bodyguard, one of Equestria's finest, swishing their tail with that won't-ask-won't-tell attitude. So, the wealthy pony buys a few gifts for the guard, takes them out for dinner and a show, and they have some fun together, and mum's the word, wink-wink nudge-nudge."

Sparkshower looked horrified, but Glamerspear still seemed to think that it must all be a joke, and she got right in the pegasus' face about it.

"... Come on, you can't tell me you didn't know!"

Sparkshower's eyes darted left and right like she was looking for a way out, but there was no escaping reality.

"I... I didn't know! Oh, tornadoes and hurricanes..."

Glamerspear had just had her mind blown, while Sparkshower had started to pant uncomfortably.

"You're serious!! You didn't know?! Why else do pretty young things like us even sign up for VIP duty in the first place! Except for the perk of being able to play the game -- whether with our assigned VIP or with any other high-placed pony else we happen to meet -- what is there even to this bum job? It's just a dumping ground for tired, old grumps who are fed up with the regular guard life!"

Honour took a little offense to that last pronouncement. But she had to admit that Lily wasn't wrong.

Meanwhile, Sparkshower seemed to be on the verge of tears.

"I didn't know! I... I have a coltfriend in Berry!"

As Sparkshower moved to cover her face with her hooves, Glamerspear arched her eyebrows and laughed off that last statement like it was the most ridiculous thing in Equestria.

"Mare, please! You're in the game now, filly, and you bagged a big one! The Royal Engineer has got bits for days! What more could you possibly want? You've hit the jackpot!"

No longer on the verge, Sparkshower was actually crying. In-between sniffles, she uncovered her face, looked up at Glamerspear with a miserable expression on her face, and shouted out her reply.

"I'm... I'm not some... SOME WHORSE FOR SALE LIKE YOU!"

'Oh, buck.' Glamerspear looked like she'd just been slapped across the snout, hard. But Sparkshower just sat down, put her face in her hooves, and started to bawl her eyes out right there.

Conversation over.

Speechless, the unicorn took a step back, and, finding no words worth saying nor actions worth taking, furrowed her brow and sulked off to her bedroom, walking right around the sobbing pegasus, and closed the door behind her. Moments later, Sparkshower, still blubbering, got to her hooves and scurried into her own room. In the brief moment where her face was uncovered, Honour could see that her eyes were shot red, and that the hair on her muzzle was soaked with tears. Even with the door closed, she could still hear the pegasus' muffled lamentations. With a sigh, Honour replaced her mark and shut the book in front of her, and placed it on the side-table.

Time for some unpleasant work.

Suggested background music: Jesper Kyd - 'Sanctuary', from Assassin's Creed 2 [2009]
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dBYK2IvSNSM

Honour stood in front of Sparkshower's door, and behind it, she could hear her uninhibited sobbing. Lifting up one hoof to knock, she placed the other on the door handle.

There was a time for politeness.

This was not that time.

Corporal Bound knocked as she pushed down on the handle, swinging the door open inwards. Inside, Sparkshower was sitting on the floor in the middle of her room, leaning over onto her bed with her face in her hooves.

"At ease, Specialist."

From the bed, the sobbing instantly stopped with a gasp. But she still struggled up to assume 'parade rest.’ Honour closed the door behind her and walked up to the despondent pegasus. Her snout was smeared with mucus and tears, her mane was a complete mess, and it looked like she'd gotten two steps into unzipping her dress down the back before giving up.

Now, it just hung loosely off her shoulders and forelegs.

Although she's holding her mouth shut tight, Honour could see her trying to blink back tears, and her breathing was staccato and irregular. With another sigh, she sat down in front of her and spread her forehooves wide to receive her.

"...Carry on."

Almost before the words were out of her mouth, Artemis collapsed into Bound's waiting embrace and resumed bawling. Giving her a moment to settle in, she started to gently pat her on the back. The tears showed no sign of stopping anytime soon, so she took a look around the room.

The bed's top blanket had a wet spot from where she'd buried her face, but it was probably dry underneath. Across from the bed, on the writing desk, she spied a hairbrush. Leaning over without losing her distressed specialist, she snagged the hairbrush and slipped her hoof into its strap. From there it was a matter of slowly maneuvering Sparkshower over so that she could whip back the covers and hop up to sit on the bed, before gently transferring the care of her head from Honour's shoulder to her lap.

'And now, the waiting game.'

Holding her head in one hoof, Honour Bound used the other to slowly brush her mane, teasing its tangles back into shape. As her curls were tamed, so too did her mood calm. Eventually, with her mane flowing freely, she was no longer crying. Just... breathing slowly, with a runny nose. There was a tissue-box on the nightstand, and Honour leaned over to pluck a hooffull of them out of the dispenser, before proffering them into the waiting hoof of her charge. Lifting her head from the corporal's lap, Sparkshower sat up and took her time to completely clear her nose, even shuffling over and grabbing a few more tissues herself.

At last, her tears were done and her nose was clear. A far cry from being done, but it was a good first step. Honour took the edge of the covers and pulled them back, and Sparkshower slowly clambered up to sit beside her, her wings folded and head hung low.

There was a long wait while she just sat there, staring at the floor. Eventually, she opened her mouth.

"Is... Is it true what she said?"

"Some of it, yes."

Her lower lip started to quiver, and Honour could sense a coming retreat to more tears, so she put one hoof on Sparkshower's far shoulder, drawing her back to lean on the brown mare's shoulder.

"...The 'game' is real."

She could feel Sparkshower shake her head against her.

"But how? How can... How can colts cheat on the pony that they love like that?"

Glamerspear had dropped a lot of knowledge on Artemis in a short time, but it was incomplete.

"A lot of reasons. Maybe the love has gone. Maybe the relationship was a lie from the beginning. Maybe they're bored. But it's not just colts; mares can take partners on too."

Sparkshower glanced up in surprise. "They can?"

"It's about power and money, Sparkshower, not gender. It takes bits to afford a semi-permanent companion on the side."

"Oh."

"There are even married couples here in Canterlot, public figures where both are seen in public more often with their 'saltine' of the month than with each other."

There was no response to that; just more deep, slow breathing, so she carried on.

"... You can probably find a few in your 'Canterlot Match' magazine."

"We never had anything like this in Berry."

Now it was Honour's turn to shake her head. "Then maybe it's something only the big-city ponies get up to. Or maybe even in Berry there were a few who did it, but they kept it discreet. Here in Canterlot, it's so common that nopony bats an eye at it in public."

Sparkshower seemed to press her head more heavily into Honour's shoulder, so she gave her mane another gentle brush.

"...This isn't always the magical city it's made out to be."

Sparkshower stared straight ahead, and the two mares could see eye-to-eye in the small mirror that hung on the opposite wall, above the writing-desk.

"I always thought that friendship was magic."

Honour sighed and pulled her close.

"Maybe it is. But love is something else." She gave her hair another brush-stroke.

"But what about Anonymous? Do you... do you think he plays the 'game'?"

"I suppose that depends on what happened earlier tonight."

Her mouth hung open, like she couldn't believe what had just happened to her. "We went to the theater, saw the musical, and then came home."

"Did you talk at all?"

"Not really. We talked a bit on the way there. But he was quiet during the show. And we didn't talk much on the way home, either."

"What did you talk about?"

"The best way to the theater. The stuff in the playbill -- the history of The Sardinia, the actors and composers. After the show, the costumes and the best songs. He said it reminded him of a particular kind of show from his world."

"Did he talk about himself at all?"

She shook her head. "No."

"Did he talk about you?"

Again she shook her head. "No."

"He never commented on your mane, or your dress, or your tail, or your eyes, or anything like that?"

She took a moment to think, and licked her lips before answering. "Well, when I first went downstairs after getting ready, he asked 'Are you all set?', and I said, 'Yes, sir. Am I dressed well enough?', and then he answered, 'Looks good to me, Specialist.' I remember he smiled when he said it." She smiled, too. But then the smile disappeared in the context of the greater worry.

'Time for the big question.'

"Did he touch you?"

Sparkshower scrunched up her eyebrows and looked up at Honour, like she almost didn't understand the question.

"Touch me?..." She started to shake her head, and didn't stop.

"... No... No, he never touched me at all..."

Honour could see tears start to well up in Artemis' eyes again.

"...What does that mean?"

Reaching out, Honour put her hooves on Artemis' shoulders and tried to give the pegasus a reassuring smile.

"I think it means that he was a perfect gentlecolt tonight, and didn't think of your evening out together as anything other than him simply going to the theater with his bodyguard by his side."

She sniffled, and a tear escaped one eye, and slowly wound its way down her face. Honour brushed one hoof against her face to wipe it away.

"...Remember, the Royal Engineer doesn't know how our society works. He isn't from Equestria. He isn't even from this world." She Shrugged, and shook her head at Artemis. "... Maybe they don't do this on his world. Maybe love really is magic there, and lovers don't cheat on each other like they do here." She lifted her hooves off Sparkshower's shoulders only to rest them firmly down again, looking her in the eyes. "... So don't listen to what Glamerspear said about him. I don't think he meant your night out like that at all."

There was another sniffle, this one hopefully final.

"Are you sure?"

Honour kept her gaze fixed on her eyes. "I could be wrong. But I don't think I am. If it makes you feel better, when I'm on duty tomorrow, if a convenient opportunity arises, I'll discreetly ask him about last night."

"If... If it's convenient, sure. And discreet."

Corporal Bound nodded, and took a deep breath, sitting up straighter as she did so. She was far from happy, but at least it looked like the crisis was over.

Sparkshower brushed her hoof across her muzzle, wiping away the gunk around her mouth, and then licked her lips.

"...How did you learn about this... game?"

Ah.

And there was the question she'd hoped to avoid.

Like an unwelcome guest, Honour could feel sour memories knocking at the back of her mind. The door was firmly shut, but they seeped through the cracks around the frame, like a chill wind in the dead of winter.

"I loved somepony very much. And I thought they loved me like I did them. Even though they could get angry, and mean, I thought it was just something we had to work through, as lovers do."

It was her turn to swallow back a tear.

"... But it turned out they didn't love me like I thought they did. And the few bits I was earning and sharing all with him... were going to other mares that he was keeping on the side."

Sparkshower's eyes went wide, but at this point she'd had them scrunched up so much that they were barely back to their normal size.

"I'm sorry."

Honour removed one of her hooves from her shoulder.

"Don't be. You didn't make him behave that way."

"But... I'm sorry it happens at all."

And Honour removed the other hoof.

"You didn't make Equestria this way, either." She took a deep breath. "... Just be thankful you learned about it like this, as a misperception, rather than by actually getting hurt."

"What about Glamerspear? Does she... know she's hurting other ponies?"

"I'm sure she knows that ponies on the other side sometimes get hurt. But she doesn't think she's doing anything wrong." Honour shrugged. "... And maybe she isn't -- she isn't forcing anypony to do anything. She's not even initiating anything. All she does is make herself available."

Sparkshower listened, but she looked like she was a hundred miles away. Honour pretty quickly figured out where that must be. "...Is it true you have a coltfriend in Berry?"

Artemis looked over at the writing-desk. There was a candle, a quill, a seal with a stick of wax, and a neat stack of blank writing paper and empty envelopes. But leaning up against the wall, there were a solitary pair of post-marked envelopes, their flaps cut open, with letters folded up inside.

"I write to him every week. But he... he doesn't write back so often, or so regularly." Weakly, she motioned towards the two opened letters. "... We talked about me taking the VIP assignment the last time I was on leave. He was supposed to come find work here when I was posted to Canterlot..." She trailed off.

Dealing with one problem had worn the corporal out tonight. She didn't have the energy to deal with another, probably bigger one -- like the trouble a long-distance coltfriend could be.

All she could do was offer platitudes.

"That's not very nice of him. But don't give up. Things could still turn around. And even if things go wrong, the last thing you're going to want is to be second-guessing whether it was your fault..." she got down from the bed and turned around to face Artemis with a remorseful expression. "... Believe me on that count, Specialist."

She nodded, and gave a weak smile. "Yes, Corporal."

Honour began for the door, but before she opened it, she looked back over her shoulder at Artemis.

She was still staring at her letters.

"By the way, Sparkshower..."

She looked up at the corporal.

"... That was a very mean thing you called Glamerspear earlier. She doesn't trot the streets looking for a quick fix like that. You should do something about what you said, when you're feeling up to it."

Sparkshower said nothing, but she watched as Honour left. Closing the pegasus' door, she made her way to the washroom to get ready for bed.

Suggested musical interlude: Major Lazer - 'Be Together (feat. Wild Belle')
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S1g4Uoqhhc8

Chapter 10

Artemis Sparkshower

Artemis Sparkshower had just experienced a rude awakening to the reality of social life in Canterlot, and Equestria as a whole. It was after midnight, and Corporal Honour Bound had left the specialist's room a few minutes ago. The paltry few letters she'd received from Huckleberry Pudding, her coltfriend, were feeling even paltrier than usual.

She felt a compulsion to sit down at her desk and read them over one more time.

But if she did that, she'd probably wind up working herself to tears all over again.

And the time for tears had passed, because Artemis had an apology to deliver. At least if she wanted to get a decent night's sleep that night. With newfound purpose and energy, she got off the bed and finished removing her dress, gently laying it on the bed for now.

She took a deep breath. 'Yes, you can do this.'

Quietly leaving her room, Artemis walked two steps over to Glamerspear's door.

She knocked twice.

Nothing happened.

On the other side of the common room, Artemis could hear Corporal Honour Bound in the washroom, brushing her teeth.

Moments passed.

From inside Glamerspear's room, Artemis heard a loud, metallic squeak that slowly trailed off.

"Come in." Her voice was flat, and her speech slow.

Pressing on the handle, Artemis quietly pushed open the door.

Glamerspear was sitting in a swivel chair in front of her writing-desk. Her head was hung low and she sat slumped over in the chair, a glum look on her face and her forehooves on the seat in front of her. Without glancing up at Artemis, she reached out one of her hind legs and pushed against the desk, sending her into a slow spin. The chair squeaked loudly as she turned around one more time.

Artemis shut the door behind her and took another step in. "Is it okay if we talk?"

Lily Glamerspear shrugged, and slowly kicked out her hoof again, spinning the chair once more, yielding another squeak.

"... I wanted to apologize for what I called you earlier."

Again, the swivel chair slowly creaked to a stop. Glamerspear lifted her eyes up to look at Sparkshower, although she kept her head pointed down.

"... I'm sorry. You're not what I said you were."

Glamerspear took a deep breath and looked back down at the ground.

"Yeah, well..."

Artemis could see her roll her tongue around in her mouth, seeming to chew something over.

"... I guess it's really my own fault in the first place." Finally, she lifted her head to look back at the pegasus. "... I'm the one who made you feel like you were something you weren't, first. And I'm sorry about that, too."

She straightened up a bit in the chair, and Artemis took another step closer.

"Honour explained things to me a bit more."

"Yeah..."

She nodded at the wall next to her bed.

It was the one their rooms shared.

"... I couldn't make anything out, but, you know, I figured." Glamerspear turned her chair a quarter away from Artemis and laid her forehooves out on the writing-desk. "... It didn't make sense the way I said it, really. But when you first told me, I just couldn't believe it was anything but that."

She turned her head and looked up at the pegasus. "... VIPs don't treat us to anything unless they want something in return. That's just the way things are." Leaning forward, she lay her head on the desk and started to scratch at its surface with a hoof. "... Except when they aren't, I guess."

The wooden, scuffed-up writing-desk seemed to have her full and complete attention, so Artemis took a moment to look around Lily's room. Her wardrobe was so stuffed that the doors wouldn't close fully, and she could make out several slips of expensive-looking fabric poking out below the left door. Piled on top of her dresser were two, roughly-treated jewellery-boxes, also full to bursting and drawers half open, leaking pearls and chains of gold and silver. Sitting between them was a jewellery-stand adorned with feathered fascinators and other small head-pieces. The bed was made, but the sheets were ruffled and loose. Pieces of her armor lay neatly on top of her hoof-locker.

Her desk was clear, save for a single item. In an open box lined with dark blue silk, sat a silver medal attached to a white-and-blue ribbon. The medal depicted an ancient-style helmet, in silver and finely detailed, with a pair of large ram's horns curling out from the front. It was the badge of a member of the Order of the Ram, the Equestrian Royal Guard's highest award for gallantry in the face of the enemy. That it was made of silver marked the bearer as a Centurion, the middle of the three ranks of the Order, and the highest available to an enlisted soldier.

It was hard for Artemis to reconcile the kind of bravery needed to earn that medal with the dejected pony that sat before her.

Suddenly, as if she'd at last come to some kind of realization, Glamerspear snapped back up in her chair and swiveled it to face her again. "Let's make a deal, Sparkshower."

"A deal?"

She motioned for the pegasus to come over, so she stepped up to her chair.

"It's simple: we each promise never again to make the other pony feel like they're something that they're not." Glamerspear held out her hoof. "... What do you say?"

Artemis smiled and reached out her own. "Deal."

Shaking hooves, the unicorn started to smile again.

"Great! Then we're friends again, okay?"

'That's good.'

"Yeah."

Glamerspear nodded, satisfied. "Cool. Since we're friends, I'm going to let you know that my first name is 'Lily', and you can use it all you want."

Artemis couldn't help but file a new, and more complete mental note about her. It was the recon training. Specialist Lilly Glamerspear, 14E Air Defense, Unicorn, Centurion of the Order of the Ram. French-pink coat. Teal-and-Cyan mane. Teal eyes. And her cutie mark now made sense; it was a glittering green spear-tip with a lily-blossom at the base.

"Mine's Artemis."

"Pleased to meet ya', Artemis. But I might still call you Sparks if that's okay with you?"

"Sure! I like that nickname."

As the two specialists shook hooves on a first-name basis, the misery of the past hour was washed away. Yet, something still nagged at the back of Artemis' mind. A curiosity that she couldn't quite suppress.

"...We can still talk about things, though? These kinds of things, I mean?"

Glamerspear shrugged her shoulders and scrunched her mouth up into a wry expression. "As long as we don't break the deal, sure..." She pushed against the desk once more to spin her chair, but this time she hopped out as it came around full circle, winding up almost uncomfortably right in front of Artemis. "... Why, you curious?"

"A... A little bit. I mean, Honour filled in some of the gaps, but not everything."

"Okay, but if we're going to go into that, I want to know how I got tonight so wrong. How about a little quid-pro-quo?"

That was only fair. And sometimes you could learn more from questions than you could from answers...

"All right. You ask first."

Glamerspear smiled at her. "Aww, ain't you sweet, Sparks..." She playfully pawed at her shoulder. "... Buck, I really read you wrong, didn't I? Anyways, tell me how Anonymous asked you to go to the theater with him; was it just you and him?"

Artemis shook her head. "No, the Chancellor was with him, and so was the Chancellor's bodyguard. Actually, going out was the Chancellor's idea. He accused Anonymous of not having left the castle since he became the Royal Engineer."

It was Glamerspear's turn to scrunch up her face and shake her head.

"Ah, see? That's a big tell right there. Your usual salt-lick type goes out every weekend at the very least, if not every night of the week! At least to his favorite gentlepony's club. But when did he ask you to wear a dress and sit next to him?"

She instantly recalled the details of the conversation. "Well, the Chancellor brought up that he'd want to get a box so as not to appear overly ostentatious, then I explained to him a guardpony's place in a regular show, and he said that it was ridiculous for me to be so far away and not even get to enjoy the performance."

The unicorn arched her eyebrows and Artemis saw her eyes darting left and right, like she was having trouble seeing something run by her.

"I mean, I guess he's not wrong. Sticking a guard in the hallway doesn't help anybody; it doesn't even show off. But being the only one in the audience with a guard at the wall makes you look like a pompous donkey; that's why nobody does it. The whole deal makes a lot more sense when it's a big gala and everypony's got their escorts lining the aisles."

Suddenly, she snapped her head up and looked straight at the pegasus.

"... Wait, the Chancellor was there when he asked you out? Wow, that must have been awkward." She forced out a laugh. "... I mean, picking up a new saltine is one thing, and taking them out is another, but I can tell you, filly, the picking up part is strictly done in private."

"Oh."

That would explain why it felt like the Chancellor and his guardsmare had wanted to say something, yet had remained silent.

Glamerspear sighed and shook her head. Walking over to her bed, she casually batted the back of her chair, sending it squeakily spinning around and around. "If you'd told me all that..." She clambered up into bed and rolled out onto her back. "... Well, I might have still been pig-headed enough to say the same things, I guess."

Reaching over, she grabbed the other bed-pillow and tossed it at the hoofboard, and nodded Sparkshower at its direction. "... Your turn now, Sparks. Whatcha wanna know?"

She climbed up and took her spot on the far end of the bed. What to ask?

There was really just one question that mattered.

"Why do you do it?"

Glamerspear giggled. "Geez, straight to the big one, huh?" With another sigh, she looked aimlessly up at the wall behind her, pawing at it with a hoof. "... I mean, I like the attention, and I like the gifts, and I like getting to go places I couldn't normally go..." She looked back down at the pegasus and shrugged. "... but I guess I really do it because I don't feel like settling down. And I don't mind knowing I'm the 'other' mare."

Artemis found it a little hard to understand how anypony could not want to find the love of their life and settle down forever... But if that's how she felt, well, she supposed that what she did made sense. Still, though...

"You've never... fallen in love?"

Lily chuckled. "I've thought I was in love, but I usually turned out to be wrong. And if I find myself falling for my salt-lick, well, that's my cue to end it there. Wouldn't be fair to try to turn that relationship into the other kind -- not for any of the three ponies involved." The unicorn pointed a hoof at her. "... Which is not to say I don't like the colt I'm with, though. I mean, I gotta like them or else I won't let it happen, ya know? They don't just pick me, I pick them too."

"Like with Captain Mailedhoof?"

"Sure. He's cute, and I figured him for a player when I first saw him at the swearing-in ceremony for the latest 'shoe-camp graduates assigned to the Castle. We'll see where it goes, though."

"Have you ever been with anypony... famous?"

She really giggled, then. "Come on, Sparks! A mare doesn't kiss and tell!"

Aw. Artemis was hoping she had some interesting stories.

Suddenly, Lily burst into more giggles. "... Kidding! 'Sisters before misters', right? OK, so this one time..."

'Yay, storytime!'

Honour Bound

The corporal was tucked into bed and half-asleep. By the foalish giggles coming from three doors over, she didn't have to worry that the other two members of her squad were going to have trouble reconciling after their argument.

One thing was certain, though: this was by far the most bizarre bodyguard assignment Honour Bound had ever had. By all accounts, the Royal Engineer spent most of his day doing paperwork. Yet on day one, he'd sent his unicorn home drenched in sweat. And on day two, his pegasus had collapsed in tears. What prospects did tomorrow hold for her, his earth pony?

Only time would tell.

It was just before eight o'clock in the morning. The other two soldiers in Corporal Bound's little squad were still fast asleep when she'd gotten up that morning and trotted off for a quick breakfast in the chow hall. And they were still asleep when she'd returned and got dressed for duty as well. Glamerspear must have kept Sparkshower up pretty late telling stories about her various salt-licks.

Maybe she'd even veered into war tales and shared how she'd earned herself the silver horns of the Order of the Ram. That medal had certainly caught Honour's attention when they'd all moved in. There had been all kinds of grumbling and cussing coming from Glamerspear's room as she'd struggled to fit her sizable wardrobe into the meager storage furniture of her bedroom.

How had she even fit it all into her duffel bag in the first place? Unicorn magic?

Whatever the reason, it took her almost an hour to unpack. By the time she'd finished, Honour Bound was already back from the commissary and reading a magazine in the easy chair. But when things had finally calmed down, she'd looked over into Glamerspear's room and watched the specialist place the Silver Ram on her writing-desk as the final piece.

It was a little surprising that Lieutenant Vi hadn't mentioned it when she'd introduced the specialist. Actually, the Lieutenant hadn't really mentioned any of their war records. Maybe she'd just decided to keep things simple for the alien Royal Engineer with little knowledge of Equestrian history.

Or maybe Celestia had simply asked her to keep the ceremony brief. It had been an extremely short introduction, overall. The typical VIP liked to hear the Lieutenant extol the virtues of each guard and relate every combat action they'd been in. For the VIP, it let them know when to have the guards themselves repeat those same stories for their guests on command. The more decorated and veteran the guardspony, the greater the prestige for the socialite VIP who liked to show off.

But so far, the Royal Engineer did not seem like that kind of VIP. Upon reflection, it was a bit of a wasted opportunity for a Centurion of the Ram. Somepony else would have made better use of her prestige.

Honour found herself standing before Anonymous' doors. She reached up to knock. Based on Glamerspear and Sparkshower's reports, she fully expected him to be in the middle of either breakfast or paperwork at this hour.

"Enter!" The reply from within seemed muffled, distant, and maybe even a bit curt.

She worked the handle and pushed open the door. "Corporal Bound, reporting for duty, ..."

The Royal Engineer was nowhere to be seen.

"... Sir?"

A half-eaten croissant and an unfolded newspaper sat on his dining-table. Anonymous called out from the far side of the movable partition wall that divided off the private area of his chambers.

"Don't get comfortable, Corporal! I'm just getting ready to go out."

He seemed upset. She could only hope it had nothing to do with last night. Could Glamerspear's original read have been right after all?

Anonymous stalked out from behind the partition, wearing his dress pants and adjusting the cuffs of his shirt.

"...It's absolutely appalling, isn't it?"

Honour allowed herself to blink in confusion. 'This couldn't be about the theater, could it?'

The Royal Engineer sat down on the sofa and slipped on his shoes, bending over to tie them.

"Sir?"

He nodded towards the newspaper. "Haven't read the news? Take a look for yourself."

Honour stepped over to his dining table and took a peek at the front page. The headline read, 'ALL CLEAR AFTER BITSMOUNT SCARE'. Apparently, there'd been a tunnel collapse in the Bitsmount silver mine yesterday afternoon. But the story explained that the miners were trapped for less than three hours before a special Royal Guard emergency team got them out, safe and sound.

So why did Anonymous sound so upset?

"I don't understand, sir." She turned around to face the Royal Engineer, who was already standing over at his desk, hurriedly scrabbling through his papers.

"The mine collapse, Corporal. Doesn't it shock you?"

She shook her head in confusion. "Mines do sometimes collapse, sir. And the article says nopony was hurt."

Anonymous continued to look down at his papers while he spoke to her. "There are forty-six active--" He abruptly stopped and tilted his head, before reaching over and lifting up a paper on his desk and looking down at the ledger-book underneath. "... forty-seven active silver mine shafts in Equestria. The five shafts at Bitsmount account for half of all mine collapses recorded in the past two years."

He stopped, as if that settled the issue, but the corporal had no idea where he was going with this. She looked back at the newspaper and tried to read it for clues.

"The article mentions a tremor was felt just before the collapse. Isn't it just an unstable region?"

Still going through his papers, the Royal Engineer answered her. "A reasonable assumption. But there are seven mine shafts just outside the town with different owners. They produce less valuable ores, probably due to tapping weaker veins, but none of them have had a single collapse since they opened."

The Royal Engineer looked up at her with a stern expression.

"... Bitsmount has had ten tunnels collapse in the past two years alone."

She was still not quite sure where he was going with this. But his apparent willingness to indulge her curiosity was surprising and refreshing. Anonymous grabbed a portfolio and stuffed the papers he'd gathered into it.

"Do you know what the greatest day-to-day operating expenses of a mine are?" He held up one finger. "... The first, at least for a large mine, is wages." Putting down the portfolio, he turned around and grabbed his suit-jacket from the coat-rack in the corner, slipping it over his arms. "... But the second-greatest is timber."

He strode over to a mirror on the wall beside the door, pulled a necktie out of his pocket, flipped his collar up, and began to tie it.

"Timber is what shores up mine shafts against collapse. Timber is the first thing a mine-owner can skimp on to save costs, using weaker cuts of inferior wood, or instructing the workers to spread out the supports too thinly to be safe. And according to last year's public accounting records, the timber loads going into Bitsmount mine are out of all proportion with the amount of silver hauled out of there."

His tie made, the Royal Engineer paused and stared at himself in the mirror with a look of concern on his face. It was almost a scowl.

"Here in Equestria, you have the luxury of unicorn magic to dig miners out of collapses before they can suffocate or die of thirst or even drown in flooded tunnels. But back in my world, greed and poor safety standards killed them by the hundreds."

The Royal Engineer looked over at her.

"... I've made it my goal to industrialize Equestria, and it will take a lot of sweat and hard work. But there are about to be a lot more mineshafts in Equestria, digging out coal and iron, and I won't let you ponies pay for that in blood."

He was serious. She was a little impressed.

"If you think Bitsmount is skimping on supports, sir, then what are you going to do about it?"

The Royal Engineer walked back to his desk and picked up his portfolio, then glanced at the lighthouse clock in the middle of the room.

"Day Court begins in an hour, but Princess Celestia hears from members of her privy council from now until then. I'm going to ask her to issue me a warrant of inspection for the mine, and a summons for the mine's owner, Galloway Bitsmount, to appear for an inquest at Day Court."

He brushed himself off, making some final adjustments to his outfit.

"Then we'll arrange transportation, get the mine plans from the archives, get the land survey and some tools from ordnance, visit a few other palace departments for some sundries, and with luck we'll be off there first thing to deliver the writ tomorrow morning."

OK, now she was more than a little impressed. This is the sixth Very Important Pony she'd been assigned to as a bodyguard since she decided to enter the service. She'd escorted visiting dignitaries, barons and counts, accomplished magicians, even a retiring General of the Royal Guard. The rich and famous of Equestria and beyond. But it seemed that the Royal Engineer was the first one who wouldn't be spending all of his time idling around with his social equals, sipping bourbon and smoking pipes.

He'd forgotten something, though.

"It almost sounds a little dangerous, sir."

Anonymous, Royal Engineer, looked at the corporal and lifted a single eyebrow.

"... You'll want to arrange for all three of your bodyguards to accompany you tomorrow."

He nodded. "I'll contact Lieutenant Violetta first thing after we speak to Her Majesty. Let's go."

Chapter 11

Lily Glamerspear

'Holy buck, how is the chow hall so damn busy on a Saturday for lunch?' Seriously, it was like the palace barracks had doubled in population overnight. Why were all these ponies even there? Most of them should have Saturday off!

It was a good thing that Lily had a pegasus recon battle-buddy who could zoom up to the ceiling, spot the only free table left in the room, and then dive-bomb down to one of its chairs to reserve it for them. And it's a good thing for Sparkshower that she had a unicorn battle-buddy who could easily grab both of their plates while she was holding the seats.

Flight-plus-telekinesis combo team for the win.

At that point, Lily's immediate problem was how to route through the crowds over to the far side of the room, where Sparks was eagerly awaiting her omelette. Scanning the room, she decided to try picking her way around the crowded outside edge, even though it skirted the busy buffet line. At least there was a bit of room to maneuver there.

But before she could set off, she heard a soft male voice from behind her.

"Attention on deck, Specialist."

He was so close she could almost feel his breath against her ear, and the shock almost made her drop the field that was holding the two lunch-trays up in the air. Or maybe it wasn't the shock from the proximity, but from recognizing the speaker. And he was an officer, so she snapped to attention, staring straight ahead.

She heard a chuckling in her ear. A white pegasus with a brilliant blue mane stepped around in front of her with a grin on his face.

"Hey, Lil. Long time no see."

Lieutenant Valiant Kilfeather, 11FX Air Superiority.

Her ex.

Lily didn't say a word.

Val cocked his head at her. "Aw, come on, Lil. No love for ol' Val?"

She answered immediately, toeing the line of proper conduct toward an officer.

"No, sir."

"No? Shame. We used to have something together, Lil. Whatever happened?"

Keeping her magical concentration to balance the lunch trays was easy.

It was keeping her composure in front of that bucking asshole that was hard.

"You ruined it, sir."

The pegasus officer was unfazed by Lily's pronouncement. He just looked at her with that smile of his. Friendly on the surface, but Lily knew it for the sneering smirk of self-assured superiority it really was.

"So quick to lay the blame, Lil. But I don't remember being the one who walked out on a good thing."

So he wanted to hear her spit it out? 'Fine, then!'

"No, you're just the one who tried to force me into something I didn't want to do."

Lieutenant Kilfeather feigned ignorance. "What, you mean that thing with the colts from the squadron? Oh, come on, Lil. It's not like you wouldn't have enjoyed it..." His expression darkened as he leaned in, right in front of her face. "... Besides, the way I hear it, these days you'll spread 'em and wink for anypony with two bits to rub together."

'Bucking BASTARD!'

It took everything she had to suppress the urge to jam a telekinetic spear straight up his nose right then and there. Instead, she just narrowed her eyes and clenched her teeth.

Val just stared at Lily, watching her simmer.

When he'd had enough, he leaned back and laughed. "...Hahaha! Oh, at ease, soldier! Foal, I can still rile you up, huh? Maybe there's still something there, after all..."

Lily relaxed her posture and permitted herself to actually look him in the eye instead of staring straight ahead.

"... But I'm not here to pine after bygones, babe."

Almost through clenched teeth, she barely managed not to snarl at him.

"Why are you here, sir?" He arched his eyebrows and wobbled his head, not yet answering her, so she motioned around the room with her head. "...This is the enlisted mess hall, after all."

Val beamed a wide smile. "Oh, as for that, well, Lil, let me clue you in on something about the officers' mess."

Drawing in close, he wrapped a hoof around her shoulder.

She suppressed the urge to hurl.

"... Friday lunch in the officers' club? Good."

He leaned over further, arching his eyebrows.

"... Friday dinner? Great."

The air fighter got in even closer and spoke in a hushed, conspiratorial tone.

"... Friday after-dinner? Fan-bucking-tastic, you dig?"

Val let go of her shoulder and stood up straight again.

"... But as a result of that, Saturday breakfast is so under-attended that the staff don't even put in the effort. And Saturday lunch isn't much better." He looked around the room and waved a hoof. "... Why, I can see at least three dozen officers who were smash-bucking-drunk in the officers' club last night, and are now grabbing lunch -- probably breakfast, for them -- here in the enlisted chow hall, going incognito so as not to bother anypony."

Stepping around back in front of her, he nodded his head in the direction of a table full of other pegasi.

"... That's why I'm here with the squadron..." Looking her up and down, he grinned once again. "... But that's not why I came over to say hello."

‘That pony sure loves to hear the sound of his own voice.’

"So, to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit then, sir?"

Val took a deep breath and tilted his head back, licking his teeth. "Well... I was just wondering about your cute little pegasus friend over there in the far corner."

‘Oh, buck no.’

She had to shut this down as soon as possible.

"She's not your type, sir."

The lieutenant's face turned pouty. "C'mon, Lil. Why don't you carry on calling me 'Val?’ Or 'Icepone' at least. Let's try to stay friends, huh?"

The obvious emphasis was her cue to relax even her 'parade rest' position. But if he thought allowing her to call him by his nickname or his call-sign was going to ingratiate him to her, he was dead wrong.

"I said she's not your type, Val."

He licked his lips and turned sideways to be able to look over at Sparkshower. Through the crowds, you could see her sitting there with a contented look on her face, scanning the ponies around her like she was on a recon mission.

"No? Soft, cream-colored coat... Pretty hay-colored hair... Big, beautiful blue eyes. Mmmm...."

Val glanced back at Lily. "... I do love the filly-next-door type."

The thought of that pegasus taking advantage of her new best friend Sparkshower sent a chill down her spine. "Whatever you want, I'm not doing it."

Val put a hoof up to her lips, causing her to scrunch up and recoil in disgust. "Sh-sh-shhh! Don't jump the gun on me, Lily..."

She pushed his hoof out of her face, but he went on talking.

"... I'm not asking you to set up a date, or even introduce me. Nothing like that."

He took a step forward towards her.

"... All I want you to do… is go bring her that omelette you've got floating around up there before it gets cold, and just... point me and the squadron out to her." Val rolled his head forward and lifted his eyebrows at her. "... She's probably heard of us, you know. Just let her put the names to faces, that's all."

Lily could not believe he was seriously asking that. "You want me to sell out my squadmate? That's pretty low, even for you, Val."

He put two hooves up and pouted his lips. "Whoa-whoa-whoa! 'Sell out?’ C'mon, Lil. I'm just asking you to let her know about some of Canterlot's finest air superiority fighters, that's all. She is new here, isn't she...?"

Lowering his hooves, he raised his eyebrows.

"... But since you mentioned 'selling', well, maybe I can make it worth your while..." He grinned. "... Like, say, maybe an invitation to one of the aforementioned fantastic Friday nights at the Officers' Club?"

She was through listening to him.

"No, thanks, Val. I've got my own ticket."

She set off to leave, only to hear him call out softly after you "What, you mean Captain Mailedhoof?"

Lily whipped around, leveling a stony gaze at Val, who had sat down and was now nonchalantly inspecting one of his hooves.

"... Be a real shame if someone talked you down to him. He's very sensitive about his social appearance, you know."

'What the buck! This bucking bastard!' She could barely stop herself from loudly shouting back.

"You're blackmailing me?"

Luckily, over the din of the chow hall, nopony could have heard her even if she'd yelled.

Val shook his head and smirked. "No, no, not blackmail. Black-ball, maybe." The smirk turned sinister. "... Or I guess blue-ball in your case."

That was it! She'd had enough! Lily turned around and left him there, still grinning at her. Pushing through the crowd, she went straight for Sparkshower. Valiant had her so riled up, she just plowed through the gaps between the tables with a menacing scowl on her face. Somehow, she made it over to where her squadmate had saved a table without knocking anypony over.

"Hey, Glamerspear!"

The little time it had taken to get over there hadn't dulled Lily's anger any, but she inhaled deeply, put a smile on her face, and did her best not to take it out on her friend.

"Hey, Sparks, order up!" She lowered the two trays out of the air and gently placed them on the table before taking her seat. Even with Val's words still ringing in her ears, the scent of a nice, hot plate of the chow-hall's finest did much to soothe her anxieties.

'He wouldn't really trash-talk her to Captain Mailedhoof, would he?'

"Boy, it sure is busy in here, isn't it?" Across from Lily, Sparks was already digging in, still glancing around at all the new faces.

Lily grimaced. "Yeah."

If he did start trying to wreck her chances with one salt-lick Captain, who's to say he wouldn't start blabbering about her to everypony? Would he do that? He definitely had the capacity for it. But she doubted he would bother keeping it up for long. 'Icepone' was strictly interested in short-term advantage.

"Do you think the crowd has anything to do with Day Court?"

While Lily had been ruminating over her past and future, Sparkshower had managed to figure out the present. It took the Unicorn a second to comprehend the Sparks' words, but once she did, Lily nodded her head and grinned.

"Aw, of course! I forgot that Day Court runs on Saturdays from now until the Grand Galloping Gala." Turning around, she took in the crowd. "... Yeah, they must need another two hundred guards on duty just to manage the line-up. Sometimes it can go all the way outside, ya know."

Just then, she caught a glimpse of Val at his table with his little entourage of pegasi air fighters. As if sensing her attention, Val looked in her direction, grinned, and nodded his head. Suddenly it felt a bit warmer in the room.

It must have been the press of all those extra ponies.

Returning to her plate, Lily immersed herself in her lunch once more.

A thought crossed Lily's mind. "You know what this means, right?" Sparkshower shook her head at her. "... It means every single noblepony will be avoiding the palace like the plague. Heck, when Day Court runs like this, lots of 'em get out Friday afternoon and don't come back until Monday." She jammed her fork in her food again and took another bite. "... They don't want to be around a huge crowd of 'common' ponies if they can avoid it."

"Wow."

Driven by some unknown compulsion, she glanced sideways towards Val's table again. He was still there. This time, he didn't turn to look at her. One of his cronies must have just told a roaring joke, because everypony at the table suddenly burst into laughter. They managed to be so loud that she could actually make them out over the din of the bustling chow hall. It looked like there were at least five of them together.

"Who's that you keep looking at over there?"

'Buck, busted!' Now it really felt like somepony had the heat on! Lily turned back to look at Sparkshower, with a growing sense of guilt. She had that inquisitive, bright-eyed look on her face again.

...'Big beautiful blue eyes'...

Lily shuddered.

And then she made a decision.

"That table of pegasi over there has the First Canterlot Air Wing sitting at it."

Sparkshower's eyes went wide, and her mouth dropped open. Lily paused to let it sink in for a moment. Her comrade looked like she'd just had Celestia personally show up to her birthday.

"Holy thundershowers! Are you serious!?"

Lily nodded her head.

"... Wow! The First Air Wing... Those are the finest fliers in the Guard!" Suddenly, she looked a little embarrassed. "... I mean, besides the Wonderbolts. But Wonderbolts aren't regular fighters like them!"

An idea came to mind, and Lily leaned in before looking over at the table and pointing with one hoof.

"Yeah, well, don't let it get out, but... I used to hang with them a bit."

Turning her attention to Val's table, Sparks reacted just as Lily expected. "Cool!!"

She only barely contained her excitement enough to take another bite of her omelette.

"You see the one in the middle with the brilliant blue mane? That's Valiant 'Icepone' Kilfeather, the wing commander. He used to be my coltfriend."

And the omelette almost came right back out of her mouth in her exuberance.

"REALLY!? Wow! What's he like?"

'Bingo.' Time to reel her in.

"Well, he's clever, well-dressed, likes to be the center of attention, knows how to party..."

Lily turned to her with a deadpan look.

"... And he's about fifteen pounds of armor and twenty pounds of charm, wrapped around a hundred pounds of pure, full-strength, unadulterated, psychopathic creep."

The words took a half-second to register, but when they did, Sparkshower furrowed her brow and quickly looked back at Lily. She reached up and forcefully turned Sparkshower's head back towards Val.

"Keep smiling like everything's fine, Sparks..."

It took her another half-second, but she started smiling towards the lieutenant's table.

"... Because everything is fine as long as everybody around him does exactly what he tells them to. And his ability to have fun and live the high life is part of what made me want to play 'the game'..." Leaning in even more, she turned to face her ex with a smile on her face. "... But the minute anybody turns him down, things get ugly. He made me do some things I regret, and when I refused to do something that I would have really regretted, he got violent."

Val glanced in their direction, and smiled when he saw both of them looking back.

"... He doesn't give a buck about anypony but himself. So, unless you're looking for a quick gallop in the garden--" Lily sat back up. "Actually, no, even if that's all you wanted, you can do way better, Artemis. So please, keep smiling, turn away, and then promise me you'll stay away from him?"

She did as Lily asked.

She sighed. "... Now let's just finish our lunch and get out of here."

"Sparkshower! Glamerspear!"

'What the...'

Lieutenant Temper Violetta was trotting up from behind them. Instantly, Sparkshower had a hoof up in salute. Lily raised her own hoof and turned around in her seat. The lieutenant was carrying her own lunch-tray as well.

"Carry on, Specialists! Sorry to interrupt you gentlemares at chow-time, but I figured you'd want to know."

Both of them lowered their hooves and relaxed again.

"Know what, Ma'am?"

"New orders for tomorrow! The Royal Engineer is undertaking a mission to Bitsmount. All three of you will accompany him for the entirety of the voyage, under Corporal Bound's leadership."

'Now what was going on?'

"... You'll be taking a coach first thing at dawn. Understood?"

The two of them spoke in unison.

"Yes, Ma'am."

"Good. Now I've got to find a seat somewhere in this zoo."

Sparkshower cocked an eyebrow. "Uh, Ma'am, why are you eating in the enlisted mess hall, anyways?"

Temper Violetta scrunched up her face as she looked around for a seat. "Because Saturday breakfast & lunch in the Officer's mess is just reheated Friday dinner." Their commanding officer shook her head in confusion. "... No idea why. Friday dinner's a good meal before a pony turns in, but I'm not looking to see the same food when I wake up first thing on a glorious Saturday morning, I can tell you that."

She resumed her usual, stern demeanor. "... Be team players and don't tell anypony about me being in here, would you? Wouldn't want to cause a scandal."

"No, ma'am."

The lieutenant gave a curt nod and then trotted off to find a free seat.

Huh, guess Val wasn't lying about the food situation over at the officers' mess. Did that mean he wasn't lying about the threat to Lily’s social life? Well, either way, there was nothing more to do on that front, now; she'd made her choice. Lily had growing confidence that it was the right one as she got back to her lunch.

"Come on, let's hurry up and finish so we can get out of this over-packed barn."

Sparkshower nodded as she dug back in.

Valiant 'Icepone' Kilfeather

The lunch rush was coming to a close as a blond-maned pegasus with a mustache sauntered over to Valiant Kilfeather’s table and sat down.

"She trashed-talked you, Ice."

Callsign 'Applewood'; he was one of the Lieutenant Junior Grades under his command.

"She trash-talked me, huh?"

After he'd seen that cream-colored young beauty walk in with Lily Glamerspear, he'd been interested. When she dive-bombed one of the few remaining tables, he’d sent Applewood over to grab as close a seat as he could, intending him to hold it for them. Just in case the talk with Glamerspear went better than he'd expected.

Applewood smiled softly. "Yeah, Val. I guess she didn't want to leave bygones as bygones."

'Icepone' shrugged. "Ah, well, what are you gonna do."

Over to his right, 'Duck', another junior Lieutenant on his squadron, spoke up.

"Whaddya mean, 'what are you gonna do'? I thought you were gonna talk to Captain Mailedhoof about that mare?"

Across the table, Lt. 'Joker', Kilfeather's second-in-command, laughed. "Have you met Mailedhoof, Duck?" It was a little quieter in the cafeteria, so he leaned in a bit, and everypony else leaned in with him. "... That colt's so eager for salt, you could tell him a mare's coming over to chop off his dick, and he'll get all excited and ask if she's cute."

Everypony started giggling, and Joker kept going, a huge grin on his face.

"... I'm serious, that dude can't keep it in his sheath. Drives his wife nuts."

Val shook his head and took a sip from his drink. "Yeah, sorry, Duck, I'm afraid that was a bluff so big it belongs on a damn map." He looked over at Applewood. "... Hear anything else interesting?"

He shrugged. "A little. They're under Violetta, working bodyguard duty for the Royal Engineer."

Duck furrowed his brow and piped up. "Wait, that hairless monkey colt? I heard about him."

Icepone looked over. "Yeah? What've you heard?"

Duck just stared back. "Uh... that he's, uh... y'know, the Royal Engineer?"

Joker started giggling and just shook his head.

After a long silence, Applewood continued. "Well, I also heard Violetta say they're all heading over to Bitsmount tomorrow at dawn."

Icepone's ears perked up. "Bitsmount, huh?"

"Yeah. Must be going to inspect the place after that tunnel collapse, I guess."

The tactical air defense map of Canterlot materialized in Icepone's mind's eye. "The only way to Bitsmount is over the Hobble river..." He licked his lips. "... And the closest way over the Hobble river is Newstirrup bridge."

Everypony else at the table was looking over quietly at Kilfeather. He ignored them while he put the pieces together in his head. Newstirrup bridge, the only way up to Bitsmount. And the Royal Engineer was a member of the privy council. That meant, hairless monkey or not, he was technically a member of the noble class.

'Yeah.'

'Yeah, it could work.'

He put a hoof on the table and started to grin. "Gentlecolts, if you've got a clear schedule for Sunday, what with us all being on libo, I have a plan that'll get us some fun, some glory, some action..." He bobbed his head to the side. "... And maybe something extra for your fearless leader."

Around the table, everypony looked interested. Icepone put his hoof in the center of the table. "... All I need to know is, are you with me?"

Without much delay, the whole squadron had their hooves on top of his.

Joker looked at Icepone with a big grin on his face. "Ice, we're your wingponies, anytime."

He smiled right back. The best part of his plan was that it was going to work out great, even if it didn't get him exactly what he wanted. That was the best kind.

Suggested interlude music: AC/DC - Let Me Put My Love Into You
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ehS5qtwA9OY

Chapter 12

Artemis Sparkshower

It was almost seven o'clock. Sparkshower had been waiting, fully armed and armored, for almost three hours now. Where had Corporal Bound gotten off to with the Royal Engineer? His chambers had been empty when she'd come down to report in for her shift at four.

Glamerspear had no idea what was going on, and not even Lieutenant Violetta could unearth their location after Artemis had gone to her. With the crush of public visitors to the palace for the seasonal weekend Day Court, keeping track of ponies was almost impossible. The only thing anypony seemed able to determine was that they hadn't checked out of the palace, and that they'd been visiting various departments in the palace throughout the day.

It seemed likely that they were probably still off in some deep library or store-room, since the Royal Engineer was supposedly on some kind of scavenger hunt for various items. After six o'clock had come around, Lieutenant Vi had told Artemis to just wait around in their shared upstairs quarters for Corporal Bound to relieve her. And so she'd just been there, waiting, ready to leap into action once her team leader returned.

The door was left open, and she could hear more hoofsteps approaching. It was probably just some other servant making their way somewhere. Artemis was starting to go a little bit crazy from all the various other ponies walking by.

Suddenly, Corporal Bound walked in, still in her armor, with her collapsible short-spear holstered on her back.

"Corporal! Is the Royal Engineer downstairs? I'll report in for duty right away!"

Honour closed the door behind her. "Don't bother, Sparkshower. Evening shift is cancelled for today. We've got an early morning tomorrow."

Her shift was cancelled? She was almost a little disappointed.

"Okay. Lieutenant Violetta told us about the field day tomorrow."

Honour walked into the washroom and fetched herself a glass of water. Sparkshower saw her paw at the straps of her helmet to lift it up off her brow. There was a lot of sweat underneath there. Refilling her cup, Honour took another drink.

She must have been tired.

"Where were you, Corporal? I was supposed to relieve you three hours ago."

Corporal Bound scratched behind her neck. As she looked over at the pegasus, Artemis could see a contented smile on her face. That was something she hadn't seen before.

"Sorry for dropping out of contact, Sparkshower. The Royal Engineer was galloping all over the palace, and rather than try to coordinate tagging you in, I decided just to stick with him."

Was she smiling from the satisfaction of a job well-done? Artemis could understand that.

Honour took a deep breath. "... I haven't even had anything to eat since before my shift started."

'What?! She didn't even get a lunch break? That's one of the three most important meals of the day!'

"He didn't even invite you to take lunch with him?!"

She laughed.

That was another new one.

"No, he never stopped for lunch himself."

An eleven-hour shift, with no lunch break, and she was smiling and laughing about it? 'It must be earth pony magic,' Sparkshower supposed. Endurance and strength were the natural qualities of that species of pony.

Honour started to undo the straps around her criniere. "... He's a real workaholic. No wonder he managed to wear out Glamerspear."

Artemis shook her head. The creaking of her helmet visor reminded her that she still had her armor on. She didn't need it anymore, so she started to pull it off as well. "What did you even do that whole time?"

Corporal Bound left the washroom and stopped in the common room, disrobing alongside her.

"Mostly visiting various departments and ministries, getting documents and tools for tomorrow's mission. What with Day Court today, there were a lot of lineups to deal with."

Midway through removing her flanchard, she furrowed her brow.

"--Especially over at the supply depot. Seemed like somepony was putting together a last-minute field operation for a whole platoon, and they were going all-out on requisitions."

Honour shrugged. "... Anyways, it's got nothing to do with us. Where's Glamerspear?"

"She got tired of waiting for you to get back about half an hour ago, and left to go flirt with Captain Mailedhoof and then get dinner. She's probably at the mess hall by now."

"Let me just hop in the shower and then we'll join her."

Artemis nodded. "Here, I'll put away your gear, Corporal."

"Thanks, Sparkshower."

Honour gave her a smile before turning and making her way back into the washroom. Gathering up her armor pieces, Artemis opened the door to the Corporal's room and hung everything up on the little wooden armor-rack she had set up in the corner. With that, Artemis headed off to her own room to stow her armor as well.

Returning to the common area, her task completed, Artemis sat on the sofa before picking up Glamerspear's copy of 'Cosmoponitan.' The cover featured a slinky photograph of Sapphire Shores.

'Catching Up With The Princess of Pop'

'Wow, those striped socks really do something for her flanks.'

'What to Do When Your Colt Gets All Quiet'

That one hit a little too close to home.

'The Best Workout For Your Teats'

'What?! That's a thing?'

'Clop Tips So Hot You'll Get Turned On Just Reading Them'

'Oh, my.'

Those big-city magazines sure were scandalous. Even her 'Canterlot Match' magazine had some racy articles in it.

... Maybe she'd ask Glamerspear to borrow it later.

As she put the magazine back down on the coffee table, she heard the Corporal turn off the shower and get out. Waiting for her to dry off, Artemis' mind started to wander to Glamerspear's pronouncements yesterday. There was still something that Honour never really explained to Sparkshower.

"Corporal? Can I ask you a personal question?"

She opened the door, still toweling off her head, a friendly look on her face. "Sure, Sparkshower, what's on your mind?"

Artemis licked her lips.

"What Glamerspear said yesterday, about why most guardsponies sign up for VIP duty... is it true?"

Her smile disappeared. "You mean about them all being players or, how'd she put it..."

The words came instantly to Artemis' mind. "'Old grumps who are fed up with the regular guard life'."

Honour paused for a moment.

"...I'm sorry, Corporal."

Honour shook her head at Artemis. "Never apologize for providing accurate intelligence, soldier."

"Yes, Corporal."

Walking back inside the washroom, she hung up her towel on the rack. "But to answer your question... She's not completely right, but she's not far from wrong, either. I wouldn't say her two reasons are even the majority, but it's true that many veterans who are tired of the do-nothing routine of the Royal Guard sign up for VIP duty hoping to get eventually hired out as private bodyguards."

She returned to the common area with a bundle of hair-ties before sitting down next to the Specialist and started to bundle up her mane. "... Myself included."

"Oh."

"The truth is, I've been bored of the Guard since shortly after leaving 'shoe camp. I joined the VIP service a year and a half ago because I wanted to get out into the private service."

Her mane finished, she set to work on her tail as well.

"... But from my experiences so far, being a private bodyguard is probably just as bad, if not worse. You get treated like dirt, you mostly stand around doing nothing or trotting around looking impressive for airhead nobles, and you have to keep your personal life a complete secret from your employer -- they want to think, and they want everypony else to think, that you're some hot single at their beck and call."

Artemis shook her head. "That doesn't sound very fun at all."

"No. But I have to admit, today wasn't like that. Galloping around with the Royal Engineer, actually doing things, gave me some hope that maybe there are some good postings out there."

As Honour paused in her work, Artemis saw her smile return.

"... He clearly doesn't think of us as 'decorations' like most VIPs. He told me what he was doing. He asked me for advice. He gave me actual work to do. It felt like we were actually working on something important together."

She lifted her eyebrows and looked up at Artemis. "... And you should have heard the way he talked with the Princess -- you can tell they really respect each other."

Bending back over, she finished tying up her mane. When it was done, she hopped off the couch with an energy that Artemis hadn't seen in her since they'd first met three days ago.

"... Now come on, let's hit the chow hall. I'm starving."

'Yay, dinner!'

"Okay!"

As the two mares left their quarters together, Artemis looked over at the leader of their detachment. It really seemed like her day, though tiring, had worked wonders to cheer her up. If one pony could have a good time trotting around the palace doing actual work with Anonymous, what was it going to be like tomorrow when all three of them were helping him out? Think of the things they'd accomplish together! Dinner first, then bed, and then they'd be out in the field.

The recruitment slogans were starting to come true after all.

'Equestrian Royal Guard: It's Not Just a Job, It's An Adventure!'

Suggested interlude video: US Navy TV advertisement from 1981, "Navy. It's Not Just a Job, It's an Adventure"
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sut-QJLfm4g

Chapter 13

Honour Bound

It was an hour after dawn. Corporal Honour Bound had been inside the royal carriage, trundling along since daybreak, while it was pulled by two earth ponies. From their quiet, idle chatter to one another, they seemed to be enjoying themselves in the brisk, spring morning air. They were on a country road in the low farmlands just to the East of Canterlot.

Beside the corporal sat Anonymous, the Royal Engineer. Despite the sway of the carriage, he had somehow managed to keep his concentration while reading a book about land surveying. Yesterday, Princess Celestia had offered him the chance to make use of one of the royal flying carriages. He'd politely turned it down, suggesting that it would be better to show up in a more 'standard' carriage, rather than make it obvious that this trip was conducted by the direct authorization of Her Royal Majesty. Honour had to agree. A flying carriage pulled by two or four pegasi was something that would cause a stir anywhere outside of Canterlot.

Or Cloudsdale, she supposed.

As Anonymous had explained to her, the idea was to start with the mine inspection, under the pretext of examining the damage, and would only deliver the summons if there really was evidence of Galloway Bitsmount's criminal thrift. But as a result of that decision, plus the dearth of train service on Sunday, they had to deal with the somewhat nauseating rocking motion of the carriage.

"Ugggghn."

Specialist Glamerspear, riding outside of the coach on the rear box seat, was clearly having the worst of it. She had mostly managed to keep it under her helmet, despite the occasional, audible moan or groan. For now, it was worth the suffering since the two earth ponies were hustling them all along at a healthy clip. Once they reached the foothills just before Bitsmount, however, Honour figured it would probably be faster and more comfortable for her to just get out and walk.

The third member of their detachment was somewhere up above, high in the sky. Upon reflection, it was pretty incredible how long she could stay up there with all that armor on. Honour hadn't really had the opportunity to work with too many pegasi from the armored corps. Earth ponies made up, by far, the bulk of that group in the Royal Guard, and even unicorns were more common than pegasi.

With a loud clap, Anonymous shut the book in his lap and sighed, closing his eyes.

"Everything all right, sir?"

He folded his hands on top of the book.

"Just second-guessing myself, Corporal. If I'm wrong about what's going on, this trip could wind up being a waste."

That was a change. Yesterday he'd seemed so certain.

"Even if it's not corruption, sir, surely after a collapse, an inspection is warranted?"

"Oh, there's no doubt it's warranted. I'm just concerned that I've projected the greed and deceit of my world onto this one..." The Royal Engineer opened his eyes and turned to look out the window at the fields rolling by. "... Equestria seems like such a friendly and honest place by comparison."

She couldn't be sure if his assessment was made because he simply didn't know about the hidden flaws of Equestrian society, or if his home-world really was that bad. Either way it wasn't very encouraging. She wondered if she should say something.

Before Honour could make a decision, however, there was a flutter of wings above them, and Sparkshower appeared next to the corporal in the window, gliding along her side of the carriage, the pegasus' bronze armor glinting in the morning sun.

"Corporal! There's some unexpected activity going on at the bridge up ahead."

'Activity? On a Sunday?'

"What kind of activity, Specialist?"

"I counted six pegasi and eight earth ponies milling about the bridge area. Two of the earth ponies were on the road, barring the bridge with spears. Eight camp tents and two large pavilion tents have also been set up in the neighboring field. They've got three large wagons as well. Everything's flying Equestrian Royal Guard colors, Corporal."

The Royal Guard? Conducting operations on a weekend, so close to Canterlot? Could something bad have happened?

"They're barring the way across Newstirrup bridge?"

"It seems that way, Corporal, or at least they're controlling it."

Anonymous leaned over. "Should we find another way across the river, Corporal?"

"Sir, Oldstirrup bridge is about an hour's ride further East, and we'll have to double back to get on the road to Bitsmount. I wouldn't advise it."

He shrugged. "Well, maybe they're just securing it against some other threat, and we'll be allowed across anyways."

"That would be my guess, sir." Corporal Bound turned back to Sparkshower. "How far are we from the bridge?"

"It's just over the next hill, Corporal Bound. Should I get back in the air?"

"Yes, but stay within earshot."

She saluted noisily, clanging her sabot into her helmet, before flapping herself up and out of sight. As the carriage pitched back to climb the hill, Honour leaned ahead to get a better view out the front window. All she saw was dirt at first, but once the carriage dipped forward as it crested the rise, she could make out the objects of Sparkshower's report.

"They're flying Equestrian Royal Guard banners, all right. And a lot of them, too. It even looks like they've decorated the sides of the road with ribbons and pennants."

The Royal Engineer pulled back the side curtain and leaned up against the side of the carriage wall to peer ahead out the window. "Sounds like somepony's throwing a party."

The carriage rolled along undisturbed, passing the decorations and coming alongside the tents.

Eventually, though, the carriage drew to a stop as the draft-ponies found their way forward barred by two guards.

Honour could hear some kind of discussion going on outside, but it was too faint to make out. "Excuse me a moment, sir."

Anonymous nodded, and she opened the door and quietly exited the coach.

What was a discussion seemed to have gotten a bit heated.

"Look, buddy, we've got a carriage to pull, here! What do you care who's inside? This is a public road, fer Celestia's sakes!"

The guardpony shook his head and stood his ground. "Sorry, sir. I have my orders. Nopony passes without identifying themselves. No exceptions."

Honour Bound cleared her throat, and both spearponies turned to size her up. "In the name of Their Majesties Princess Celestia and Princess Luna, clear the way for the Royal Engineer of Equestria."

The two guardscolts looked at each other.

"The Royal Engineer?"

"Better go get the L-T."

After a quick, affirmative nod, the one on the right returned the gesture before dashing off towards the tents and pavilions in the nearby field.

"Just a moment, while we clear your passage with our commanding officer."

Their carriage-pullers didn't seem very impressed.

"Now you goofballs are gonna get it!"

"Yeah, barring the way for a member of the Royal Court, geez!"

But the guardspony stood resolute, spear still barring the way.

There was a loud fluttering of wings accompanied by a hurried gallop. Six pegasi, dressed in light Equestrian Royal Guard armor, quickly landed on the road before their carriage, accompanied by the spearpony on hoof. One of them, a white pegasus with a brilliant blue mane, spoke up loudly enough for everyone to hear.

"My name is Lieutenant Kilfeather, and I'm in charge of the situation here. If the Royal Engineer wishes to cross Newstirrup bridge, let him stand forth!"

Honour Bound's eyes narrowed. Their uniforms appeared genuine. And she felt like she'd heard the name 'Kilfeather' before. Behind her, she heard the carriage door open, as Anonymous climbed out and stepped up beside her.

"By Appointment To Their Majesties Princess Celestia and Princess Luna, I am Anonymous, Royal Engineer of the Court of Equestria."

Lieutenant Kilfeather smiled. "It gives me great pleasure to make your acquaintance, Sir..."

He stepped forward, looking Anonymous in the eyes.

"... But you shall not pass Newstirrup bridge without either giving battle or rendering up a token of your cowardice...."

Instantly, Honour reached for her spear, pulling its two pieces out of the holster on her flank and snapping them together in one clean motion. Kilfeather completely disregarded her move to arm herself, and returned back to his assembled group of pegasi, who had hunched down into an aggressive posture. Even the spearponies had turned their weapons on them.

"... For this is a 'Pas de Sabots' -- a 'Passage of Hooves', Sir -- and no noblepony may pass without honoring the ancient rites of this hastilude!"

Suggested interlude music: Hans Zimmer - 'Show Me Your Firetruck', from 'Backdraft' [1991]
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-pQIHA56WAE

Suggested reading: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pas_d%27armes (Wikipedia - Pas D'armes)

Chapter 14

Honour Bound

The Royal Engineer folded his arms in front of his chest.

"'Pas de Sabots?' I'm afraid I haven't been introduced to this particular custom. Would you care to elaborate?"

Lieutenant Kilfeather placed one hoof on his chest and gave a shallow bow. "Certainly, sir; I will happily rectify your ignorance of this topic."

Anonymous allowed the insult to pass unchallenged, the expression on his face impassive, almost stern.

"...The 'Pas de Sabots' is an old custom of the warrior nobility, one of the ritual combats allowed even in peacetime, along with the more familiar Tournament. In a 'Pas de Sabots', a group of honorable warriors take it upon themselves to seize an important bottleneck on the road -- such as a bridge, city gate, or mountain pass. Commoners are permitted free travel, but any noblepony wishing to go by must first challenge the holders to combat. A victory over the pass-holders ends the event in a triumph and allows the noble to go on their way; otherwise, the pass holds, often piling up with battered soldiers ready for a second round when more of their fellows arrive. A feudal noble who declines the challenge is compelled to leave behind a token of their cowardice, to be recovered later by someone with a greater sense of chivalric honor than themselves."

The pegasus nodded to his entourage, who relaxed from their battle stance. Even the two spear-wielding guards lifted their weapons up and out of the way.

"... Besides that, the rules of combat are up to the challenger; we are honor-bound to accept any reasonable proposal. As the 'tenants' of this pass, we must also provide armaments to any noble who would challenge us but happens to find themselves without weapons. And we will freely share our supplies of food and water with any brave enough to take up the sabot that we have thrown down."

Kilfeather sat down in front of his squadron, wearing a haughty smile.

Beside the corporal, the Royal Engineer shuffled his feet and considered his response carefully. In the back, Honour could hear Glamerspear start to clamber off of her seat to join her. Sparkshower must have surely been about to land, as well. Anonymous unfolded his arms, placing one hand on his hip while showing the other to the bridge-holders with an open palm.

"Thank you for the explanation, Lieutenant. It sounds like you have undertaken a magnificent enterprise, and I wish you luck. However, I am compelled to point out the fact that I am not a member of the warrior feudal nobility of Equestria. I therefore ask that you allow me to pass unmolested."

The Lieutenant grinned.

"Not a member of the feudal nobility? No, sir, I think that you are..." He pointed a hoof at the Royal Engineer. "... You are a member of Princess Celestia's privy council, sir, which by ancient custom must consist exclusively of trusted nobility. When Her Majesty the Princess appointed you to the position, did she not declare you 'Lord Anonymous, Royal Engineer', before the Day Court?"

Anonymous placed his other hand on his hip. "I believe that she did, yes. I was told it was an ancient title, and would not be used in normal circumstances."

Kilfeather spread his forelegs. "See? Though an honorific, the time is not long past when we would be compelled to address you as 'Lord Engineer', and likewise 'Lord Chancellor', et cetera."

Glancing at the Royal Engineer, Honour saw him smile. "Well, if I am a noble, sir, then I must point out that I am no warrior-lord. And I think the same could also be said of the Chancellor, since you brought him up."

One of the pegasi giggled at that little joke, before getting a stern glance from Kilfeather.

"If he were here, sir, we would challenge the good Chancellor as well. But if you are not a warrior-lord, then why do you travel with soldiers under your command?"

Glamerspear slowly walked up on Honour's other side, and she could hear the beating of wings as Sparkshower started to hover on the far side of the draft-ponies.

"... It would seem, sir, that Her Royal Majesty has not only ennobled you, but provided you the retainers that a noble of your station rightfully deserves. And if you feel unable to fight in person, then there would be no shame in sending your house-warriors to do battle in your name."

The Royal Engineer inhaled deeply, apparently considering how to reply. As the seconds wore on, Glamerspear shook her head and lost her patience.

"This is such a load! What's your game, Valiant? Nobody's staged a 'Pas de Sabots' in a century or more!"

'Valiant Kilfeather.'

Now Honour remembered where she'd read his name. It was on the front page of the Royal Guard Times less than a year ago, and given her current situation, it was not an encouraging memory.

Kilfeather gave a slight smirk. "Ah, there you are, Glamerspear. You're right -- the 'Pas de la Fleur Fanée', the last one on record, was a hundred and thirty-seven years ago..."

Before she could retort with 'See?!', he continued talking right over her. "... But the laws to permit such chivalrous acts are still on the books."

Glamerspear growled and pointed an angry hoof at the tents and pavilions. "Laws, shmaws! You must've had to pull some pretty big strings to get this all thrown together in such a hurry!"

Valiant smiled and shook his head. "Oh, no, not at all. You'd be surprised how eager the supply depot officers were to help out. During this period when Celestia holds Day Court on weekends, every noble pony who can get out of Canterlot does so, to avoid the influx of plebeians into their 'sacred' city..."

Turning around, he gestured at the bridge. "... Newstirrup Bridge happens to be the fastest way to and from a number of noble estates. So I found some very receptive ears when I suggested that a 'Pas de Sabots' timed for 'society' returning to Canterlot would humiliate a number of high-and-mighty gentleponies who thought themselves too good to mingle with the peasantry..."

He turned his head up and looked at Anonymous. "... Absolutely all of our papers are in order, sir. You're welcome to inspect them, if you wish. And this event has the full sanction of Major-General Hoofstrong herself."

The Royal Engineer glanced down at Corporal Bound. She could see him rolling his fingers against his palm in thought. "As it happens, Lieutenant Kilfeather, I happen to be pressed for time and on urgent business. If you will not allow me to pass without satisfying your ritual, then I must ask what the price for my 'cowardice' would be."

Kilfeather put on a friendly smile. "Oh, sir, well... First of all, let me say that I doubt very much if you will suffer any social consequences for a surrender. After all, nopony would expect your small VIP detail to fight against Canterlot's finest air defense squadron. But as for tokens of surrender, let me think..."

He put his hoof up to his chin and feigned consideration of something new. It was so obviously an act that she'd almost wondered why he even bothered with it.

Perhaps he just liked to hear himself talk.

"... Well, traditionally the tokens are something martial, but not essential for personal defense. So, for your cowardly refusal to face us, we will take..."

He pointed at Glamerspear.

"... Her fancy helmet..."

She growled.

He swung his hoof to point at Anonymous.

"... One of your fine white gloves, sir..."

And then he swung his hoof all the way over to point at Sparkshower.

"... And her."

Sparkshower gasped. "Me?!"

Before anypony could say anything else, Glamerspear exploded next to Honour.

"HER?! Why you low-life, dirty-dealing, foal-of-a-b-"

Anonymous looked down at the Corporal and shook his head with a stern expression, so she elbowed Glamerspear in the flank. She took the hint and shut up.

The Royal Engineer cleared his throat. "I'm sorry, I must have misheard you. Are you proposing to take a hostage in exchange for my submission?"

There was the briefest flash of a grin on Valiant's face, directed at Glamerspear, before he composed himself.

"Hardly a hostage, sir. We have established ourselves quite comfortably here, and she will stay as an honored guest among her own kind -- valorous pegasus warriors, just like her. Over the next few days, she will bear witness first-hoof to our courageous fight to hold the bridge against all comers..."

He places one hoof on his chest, his voice dripping with sincerity.

"... She will share in our triumphs and our revels as if a member of my own squadron; after all, it was not her who declined our challenge..." Lowering his hoof, Valiant regarded the Royal Engineer with disdain. "... And clearly, a cowardly lord afraid of battle has no need for such a large retinue of bodyguards, and can do without one of them for a few days."

Again, Anonymous paused to consider his options. As he did so, an earth pony trotted up from the tents, holding a large stick in his mouth. Valiant stepped aside and directed him to plant it in front of the bridge. It took the pony a bit of struggling to drive it in, but he managed to get it set up like some sort of fence-post.

Something about that staff looked familiar. The haft was extremely thick, and it was decorated with red and white ribbons. A half-circle plume of bushy red hair sat at the peak, above a golden medallion. Honour couldn't quite make out the design on the golden disk at this distance.

Glamerspear recognized it before she did. "Hey! That looks like one of the totems from the MXP Games!"

Valiant raises an eyebrow. "That's because it is one of the totems from the MXP Games. We've taken the liberty of borrowing it."

His answer only set Glamerspear off again. "Oh, so conning the ponies at the supply depot wasn't enough, now you're stealing magical artifacts right out of the Champions' Hall?"

"Not at all..." He nodded his head at the pegasi behind him, and they all gathered around the totem. "... You're looking at the winners of last year's Grand Mêlée."

They adopted the same pose as that front-page Royal Guard Times photograph the corporal had remembered earlier.

'KILFEATHER SQUADRON DOMINATES THE SKIES AT MXP GAMES!'

It was one of the more dominant victories of the whole tournament. And at the Grand Mêlée, the final and most important event of them all, no less.

Anonymous sighed. "I beg your pardon, Lieutenant, but I feel I'm missing something again. 'MXP Games'? Is that anything like the 'Equestria Games'?"

Valiant stroked the totem adoringly. "A little, sir. Where the Equestria Games involve tests of athletic and acrobatic skill, the MXP Games are a test of martial prowess."

He continued to fawn over the magical staff, so Honour spoke up. "Totems like that one are used at the Games to make sure nopony gets seriously injured. It projects a magical protective field onto the competitors."

The Lieutenant nodded at her, then turned to her VIP. "Thank you, Corporal. You see, sir? We're not barbarians. You may challenge us without fear that anypony will even get hurt..." He tilted his head down to look at them all from underneath his brow. "... Though if you do, then you'll certainly be walking away in pain and with quite a lot of bruises."

The Royal Engineer looked like he'd had enough. "I see. You've made your point, Lieutenant. I will confer with my escort."

By the tone of his voice, it wasn't a request. Anonymous waved Sparkshower over, and they all walked away from the bridge, passing the carriage as they went.

It didn't take Glamerspear long to speak up again. "You can't hand over Sparks to these goons, sir! This is all about her, you understand? Valiant, that scumbag, tried yesterday to get me to set her up with him!"

The Royal Engineer cocked an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"Yeah, and when I turned him down, he tried to blackmail me into doing it!"

"Interesting. I was going to suggest that I try to bargain him down for our surrender, but if what you say is true, then it sounds like we won't be able to leave here without giving up Specialist Sparkshower."

Glamerspear simply grumbled in acknowledgement.

Still floating in the air, Sparkshower voiced her considerations. "But... is that so bad?"

Once again, their unicorn squad-member went ballistic. "WHAT?! SPARKS, you have no idea what that bastard is capable of!"

There had to be a reason behind all that anger of hers. Not to mention her familiarity with the Lieutenant.

"So why don't you tell us?" Honour asked.

Glamerspear shot the mare a fiery glance, and then relaxed her expression, looking sheepish. "We used to date. And like I told Sparkshower yesterday, when I didn't want to do something he wanted -- which was crazy and disgusting, by the way, and would have actually reduced me to a you-know-what that I got called two nights ago -- he got violent and tried to force me into it!"

The Royal Engineer squinted at her. He didn't have the full details to know exactly what she was talking about, but he looked properly concerned about it.

"... And yesterday he tells me Sparkshower's caught his eye? I'm not letting that happen to somepony else!"

Sparkshower spoke up for herself. "But, Glamerspear, that can't possibly happen here! There's all these witnesses, and the whole thing is supposed to be a 'noble endeavor'! If it came out that they took a hostage and then abused her, it would ruin their reputation. What's the worst that they could do?"

The unicorn shook her head. "You don't want to know the worst, Sparks..."

Taking a deep breath, the pegasus conceded to Glamerspear's point.

"... But you might be right that they won't try anything here and now. We'd been going out for a while before he pulled anything crazy on me. I still say we fight, though!"

Anonymous stopped and leaned over. "Can we win, though?"

Glamerspear sat down and pounded one of her forehooves into the other. "You bet we can, sir! I can swat those pegasi like flies."

Sparkshower also landed down, concern evident in her voice. "I don't know..."

"WHAT?! Sparks, you-"

"Come on, Glamerspear, let her speak her mind before you shout her down," the corporal interrupted. That netted her a grumble and a dirty look from the unicorn, but Sparkshower looked genuinely concerned.

"The First Canterlot are the best air superiority fighters in the whole guard... They can fly faster and turn tighter than anypony else..."

The base of her spear rested firmly on the ground, but the hoof that was holding it was hesitant, and up in the air past Anonymous' head, Honour could see the tip wobble with uncertainty.

‘Looks like Lieutenant Kilfeather's intimidation tactics worked,’ she thought to herself. ‘She's genuinely afraid.’

"... I think I'd rather just go with them than waste everypony's time with a fight we can't win. At least that way I become their hostage without any bumps or scratches."

Glamerspear closed her eyes and shook her head like she couldn't believe what she was hearing.

Honour sighed. "You're in charge here, sir. What's your decision?"

Anonymous pulled off his hat and sat down cross-legged on the ground. The difference in height was actually startling. If he walked on all fours, would he really be that much taller than any of them? Regardless, it was strange having to actually look down at his face for a change.

"I hear one vote for 'fight' and one vote for 'surrender', Corporal. But I haven't heard your vote, yet."

She shrugged. "I'm a non-commissioned officer, sir. You give the orders, I see them carried out."

"Well, I'm not a soldier at all, Corporal. I've never even seen a pony fight, let alone sparred with one of your kind. Maybe I'd actually be a reasonable opponent for them, but I doubt they have any weapons or armor that would fit me, and I don't want to show up to Bitsmount with injuries. So let me tell you how I see the situation, and then you, with your experience in these matters, will give me your decision on what we are going to do."

He placed his top-hat in his lap. "We can fight, surrender, or turn around. All things considered, I would rather not leave Specialist Sparkshower in the hands of these unscrupulous ponies. But I can't afford the two-hour detour each way if we take another road to Bitsmount; it would cut short the inspection of the mine, and the carriage and several of the very valuable pieces of equipment I've borrowed are due back today. To keep them overnight would be a public embarrassment and a betrayal of several important ponies' trust."

Brushing some of the trail-dust off of the felt, he continued. "... But on the other hand, if we have to leave Specialist Sparkshower here, then, as she says, better to do it without whatever injuries that 'totem' will allow her to sustain."

The Royal Engineer looked up at Honour. "... As I see it, it all comes down to one thing, Corporal. Can you think of a way to beat them?"

He'd gotten to the heart of the matter, that was for sure. Was there a way to beat them?

She looked at Glamerspear. The unicorn was ready to explode with anger. Honour was almost surprised her horn wasn't already glowing, ready to project her magic at the first sign of trouble. A measure of her self-restraint, she supposed.

Then she turned her eyes to Sparkshower. She was encased in almost fifty pounds of armour, but mentally, she could tell she wasn't quite ready. Her experience with combat so far had probably been limited to engaging weak screening units or avoiding action entirely, not dueling a foe explicitly trained to dominate the skies.

Honour leaned back out of their little huddle-circle and looked over at the bridge.

Barring their passage were six cocksure pegasus colts.

The elite of the air defense force.

The champions of what was once called the Grand Tournament of Equestria.

But they were boisterous, boastful, and maybe they could be lured into doing something foolish. And the terms of the challenge were favorable: anything that was reasonable, they had to accept. So, could she come up with something reasonable that she could win? Honour closed her eyes and thought for a few moments. When she opened them again, she found that Anonymous hadn't lifted his gaze from her.

It was a powerful, penetrating look that spoke to the intensity of his convictions.

"I've made my decision, sir..."

Glamerspear perked up, and she could hear Sparkshower suppress a gasp of anticipation. She turned to each of her subordinates in turn, and tried to project the Royal Engineer's own aura of command.

"... We will fight."

Suggested interlude music: Kenny Loggins - 'Danger Zone', from 'Top Gun' [1986]
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=siwpn14IE7E

Chapter 15

Honour Bound

Specialist Glamerspear pumped her hoof in the air. "Awright! Let's get 'em!"

Standing in front of Honour Bound, Anonymous leaned back and seemed to relax his expression a bit. "What's the plan of attack, Corporal?"

Still holding onto her best authoritative tone, Honour responded. "We'll challenge them to three one-on-one duels, best two-out-of-three..." She glanced meaningfully at Sparkshower. "... That way only two of us need to win a fight."

The color seemed to drain from the Pegasus' face. That wasn't good.

Honour turned to Glamerspear, raising an eyebrow. "We'll take them on all at once so there's no pressure from momentum. Glamerspear, you're an anti-air defense specialist; challenge them to a duel in service equipment with no restrictions."

Their unicorn teammate grinned. "Oh, I am going to sweep them from the air!"

Lifting her hooves, Honour began to play with one of her light brass sabots. "I'll demand a duel without the use of any equipment at all. They'll think they have the advantage because of their wings, but I'll profit more from their lack of armor."

Honour checked back on Sparkshower. She was not looking any better.

"Sparkshower, you'll ask for a fight in the air with service equipment..."

Honour leaned over and put a hoof on her shoulder. She was actually shivering in her armor. That was really not good.

"... All you have to do is fly as high and as far as you can. They can out-turn you and fly faster than you, but they'll tire more quickly. Play the long game..."

Sparkshower was facing Honour Bound, but it felt like she was looking straight through her. The Corporal brought her head closer to try to get her attention. That's when she noticed that there were actual tears coming from her eyes.

'Better try to shut this down fast.' "... Soldier! Trust in your equipment and you will be victorious, do you understand?"

The shivering didn't stop.

"Y-Y-Y-Yes, Corporal!"

Honour squinted at her. "I didn't catch that, Specialist?"

"YES, CORPORAL!"

That was not a confident, or even a composed response.

It was almost a terrified scream.

And now Sparkshower was shivering so hard, the whole group could hear her armor rattling like a box full of empty tin cans. Honour Bound shot a worried glance at Glamerspear. She just looked concerned and shrugged her eyebrows, with a 'What do you want me to do?' kind of look.

Sparkshower clearly hadn't seen real combat. There wasn't enough time to solve her confidence issues, and it didn't matter, anyway. Glamerspear should win easily, and Honour had an excellent shot. Sparkshower could lose, though she'd prefer if the pegasus didn't get hurt.

Anonymous got onto his feet but stayed low, squatting down with the rest of the group. "Specialist Sparkshower, I apologize for the interruption, but something has just piqued my imagination. May I ask you a question about general tactics in the Equestrian Royal Guard?"

The fresh and apparently-unrelated line of conversation seemed to calm her down a bit, as she stopped chattering quite so hard.

"Sir?"

The Royal Engineer affected a theatrical air and gestured up at the sky. "Tell me, Specialist: If an enormous dragon were to attack Canterlot right now..." He pointed over at Kilfeather's squadron. "... Is that the force the Guard would send up to defeat it?"

With some hesitation, Sparkshower looked over toward her feared enemies. "No, sir."

"No? Could you explain to me why not?"

The heavily-armored pegasus swallowed, and Honour could tell it was to hold herself back from crying. Her nose was running, too.

"Well, sir, as an air-superiority squadron, they're focused on high-energy turning fights against comparably-sized enemies. They're lightly armed and lightly armored so as not to compromise their air handling. Without heavier equipment, against a big dragon..." She turned back to Anonymous. "... they'd only be useful as harassment."

The Royal Engineer leaned in almost awkwardly close to the corporal's nervous pegasus.

"Specialist Sparkshower..."

She inhaled sharply, holding her breath.

Anonymous loudly and forcefully banged his knuckles against her enormous brass breastplate, twice, leaving the digits pressed against her armor. He clearly enunciated every word that followed.

"... be the dragon."

There was a long delay while Sparkshower looked down at the fist held against her plate. Her eyes darted from the fist, to Anonymous' face, to the fist, and then back again.

"Be the dragon... Yes, sir. Thank you, sir!"

That was sounding a little better. Not much, but a little. Anonymous nodded, before he removed his fist and stood up. Honour watched Sparkshower's eyes nervously follow him up.

'Seems like this is as good as it's going to get.'

"Okay, let's get back in there."

Everypony started back toward the bridge. To Honour's right, Glamerspear was wearing a smirk like she was going to enjoy this. Just ahead of her, the Royal Engineer dusted his trousers and jacket off, before donning his top hat once more. He even put on the white gloves he had hanging out of his jacket-pocket. And on her left, Honour could hear Sparkshower repeatedly muttering under her breath.

"Be the dragon... Be the dragon... Be the dragon..."

If a mantra helped get her through this, then all the better.

The bridge was less than fifty yards away, and the walk back went quickly. Lieutenant Kilfeather was still posing with his squadron, blocking the bridge a few yards beyond the 'borrowed' MXP totem.

"Well, Lord Anonymous, what shall it be?"

Anonymous raised his hands and adjusted his gloves, pulling them on tightly before balling his hands up into fists. There was a disturbing, cracking noise as he squeezed his knuckles. An intimidation tactic of his own? There was no visible reaction from the air-superiority pegasi with an obvious air of superiority.

"My bodyguards shall challenge three of your number to one-on-one duels; two victories out of the three shall carry the day."

Kilfeather nodded in approval, grinning. "Excellent! I accept, with one condition: If you do not sweep us in all three matches, we will consider ourselves entitled to continue our 'Pas de Sabots'."

Unlike earlier, Anonymous' reply was instantaneous. Clearly, he'd had the time to think this through.

"I accept your condition with one clarification: If we win without a sweep, you shall allow us to pass unhindered upon our return voyage today."

The Lieutenant laughed, and a few of his crew chuckled along with him. "Ah, clever! So perhaps you are a warrior-lord, after all!"

Turning to the ponies behind him, Kilfeather pumped his hoof in the air repeatedly, and the little crowd started to cheer, clap, snarl, and roar with excitement.

Kilfeather spun around back to face the four of them. "... Yes, We accept! Carriage-bearers, retire yourselves to our tents, and Royal Engineer, let your bodyguards step forth and issue their challenges!"

The two carriage-pullers shot each other a glance, then slowly walked the coach back, taking the side-path off of the road, into the fallow field with the squadron's colorful tents.

Honour paused to consider her squad. On her right, Glamerspear looked ready to shoot every one of the pegasi down, if given the chance. To her left, even Sparkshower had found her nerves again and wore the proper, steady gaze of a soldier.

Honour Bound made the first move, stepping up past Anonymous, to just in front of the totem. With an air of disdain, she looked over Kilfeather's squadron before uttering her curt pronouncement. "Hooves only, no armor, first submission."

Most of the squadron-members arched their eyebrows and looked at each other with amused expressions, saying 'Ooooh!', which then devolved into general excited hooting and hollering.

One of them stepped forward and swayed his shoulders with a grin on his face. "Well, all right! Cool foxy filly wants to turn this mêlée into a real brawl, huh?!"

He was a young colt, but big for a pegasus; huge, even. His coat was light red, and his blond mane was cut high-and-tight. Coming right up in front of Honour Bound's snout, he almost towered over her.

"... Little fox, I'm gonna smash you good."

She just gave him a cold stare, as she reached down and started to pull off her sabots. That set his companions off again, with cat-calls mixed in with the hooting. He turned and gave them a confident grin, though it briefly faltered when he started to undo his armor as well.

Lieutenant Kilfeather's laugh rang out. "All right, who's next?"

Behind the corporal, Glamerspear shouted out as she charged up to the challenge line that she'd established. "That'll be ME! Fight in service equipment, with no holds barred!" She hunched down, swiveling her neck left and right like a snake looking to strike. "... Come on, which of you airborne pests is ready to get turned into an ugly smear on the ground?!"

Again, there was laughter from the assembled pegasi. Kilfeather's roar rang louder than the rest. "Oh, so Miss Air-Defense thinks Canterlot's finest are easy targets, does she?"

Glamerspear snarled right back. "Yeah! Changelings, Griffons, or Pegasi; you're all just bugs to be squashed, to me -- and I've got a fly-swatter bigger than even your ego, Val!"

He laughed it off, and, in the blink of an eye, dashed forward with one quick pump of his wings.

If the move impressed Glamerspear, she didn't show it.

"Your fly-swatter's got nothing on my moves, Lil'. So I'll take your challenge, and that's two!"

'Now it's all on Sparkshower.'

Eschewing Glamerspear's quick entrance or Bound's steady walk, she took to the air and slowly flapped her way forward. Upon reaching the totem, she did not land.

"I proclaim a clash of storm-fronts... in service equipment." She sounded confident as she issued the traditional pegasus challenge for a duel. But she didn’t try any of the emotional theatrics like Glamerspear. Or like herself, if Honour was being honest. After all, that cold stare was a calculated move, too.

The lack of excitement from Sparkshower seemed to carry over to the opposing side as well. Just one pegasus made any noise at all, chuckling loudly. "Oh-hoo-hoo! A 'clash of storms', eh? Like it's a rainy day in Cloudsdale? Big talk for a little pegasus!"

A purple-colored pony with a slicked-back green mane took to the air and flew up slowly to meet her. "... Or maybe it's just a big joke? I'm laughing, after all!" Amused with his own words, he continued to giggle to himself.

By that point, Honour Bound had removed all of her equipment, and so had her oversized opponent.

Kilfeather looked down the line and spoke up. "Very well, the challenges have been made, and met! Competitors, touch the totem together and identify yourselves to receive its protective blessings, then retreat twenty paces until the Lord Anonymous does us the honor of declaring the start!"

Honour reached out at the same time as her foe, but he spoke first, leaning in over the invisible line that divided the two teams. "The only name you need, little foxy filly, is my call-sign: 'Duck'. Which is what you oughtta do when I come flapping for you, by the way."

Her voice was flat as she replied. "Corporal Honour Bound."

There was an almost musical hum from the golden medallion, and the red-colored hairs at the totem's peak suddenly waved as if blown by a gust of wind. She could feel a kind of electrical energy envelop her, making her hair -- body and mane -- briefly stand up on end. Duck's short mane scarcely moved, though his puffed-up coat made him look even larger.

As both of them retired, Glamerspear and Kilfeather stepped up. Once again, the air-superiority team-member spoke first. "Lieutenant Valiant 'Icepone' Kilfeather, wing commander, First Canterlot Air Defense Wing, and Leader of Kilfeather Squadron, Winners of the MXP Games Grand Mêlée."

Glamerspear leaned in close, baring her teeth. "Specialist Lily Glamerspear, Centurion of the Order of the bucking Ram!"

That was a visible shock to Kilfeather, but he took it with a smile. "Well, well... Went and became a war hero, did you, Lily?"

"That's right, Val. Want to give up now before I do to you what I did to the Changelings?"

He licked his lips.

"Mmmm, 'fraid not, Lil'. You're about to get a harsh lesson in tracking hard targets."

Their exchange complete, both of them retired to the starting lines. It was Sparkshower's, and her still-giggling opponent's turn. Almost simultaneously, the pegasi reached out and touched the staff.

But both remained silent. All anypony could hear was the beating of their wings.

It was a somewhat disturbing contrast. Sparkshower, with an armor load more than three times that of the lightly-equipped air-superiority pony, not to mention carrying a long and very bronze spear versus just his sabots, almost appeared to be struggling to stay in place. Each beat of her wings lifted her several hooves up into the air. And in-between those intervals, she dropped like a stone back down again.

By comparison, the purple pegasus before her almost seems to be effortlessly soaring in place, barely flapping his wings at all. After several moments in silent challenge, at last, he leaned forward.

"Well? Aren't you going to tell me your name, little filly?"

Sparkshower stayed silent, staring him in the eyes.

He started to giggle again. "... Come on, bold and brassy! Speak up!"

Again, she said nothing.

He blew a raspberry, annoyed. "... Thhbbbbt! Oh, fine then, I'll go first, party-pooper. You can call me 'Joker', and I'm the Lieutenant second-in-command of this bunch of fun-loving colts, hee-hee-hee!"

'Aaand he's back to the obnoxious giggles again.'

Sparkshower remained quiet.

Joker eventually ran out of laughs and fell silent. Only then did Sparkshower speak up, with the most bravado Honour had ever heard from the pegasus.

"I'm the dragon."

Before he could react, she quickly jerked her head forward in a nod, and the visor of her bascinet-helmet snapped down to cover her face with a resounding 'clang'.

That set the non-participating pegasus crowd off again, amused by her display of defiance. But 'Joker' didn't seem to be laughing any more.

"The 'dragon', huh? I'll get your real name by the time I'm done with you, don't you worry, filly-girl."

He leaned forward like he was trying to peer behind the eye-slits of her full-face helmet, but Honour doubted that he could see anything. Perhaps out of frustration, he spun his hind legs forward and used them to kick off the totem, quickly pushing back by the required distance.

Sparkshower just slowly backed up, flap by flap, until she was level with Honour Bound and Glamerspear.

Both lines of battle were now drawn. Behind them, Honour could hear the Royal Engineer's boots crunch against gravel as he adjusted his position to clear the way. Then she heard him clear his throat.

"Gentleponies, conquer your fears and you will conquer the enemy..."

'That's a good line. Especially for Sparkshower.'

"... Remember, no interfering with the other duels. Spread yourselves out at the earliest opportunity. We will go on the count of 'three.’"

"One..."

"Two..."

"Three!"

As soon as the count was spoken, 'Duck' came thundering at the corporal, hooves held forward.

She immediately rolled to her left, letting him fly by.

While Duck circled around for another pass, Honour took a measure of their starting positions. To her left, Sparkshower had immediately taken off into the air away from her, pursued by 'Joker', who'd overshot her initial position. On her right, Glamerspear already had her defensive shield up and was galloping back and to the right, trying to put herself in the center of the largest open area around. Kilfeather was climbing straight into the air, opting to gain altitude right off the bat.

Good. That just left her with 'Duck'.

Time for her to show him her moves.

Suggested interlude music: Christopher Gorden - 'The Battle', from 'Master and Commander: The Far Side of the World' [2003]
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GAXJ7jek5-4

Chapter 16

Honour Bound

Honour barely had time to get back on her hooves before Duck came around for another pass. Again he charged straight at her, hooves held out in front of him. Turning to face her enemy, Honour hunched her body down to present the smallest target while staying ready on her hooves. Duck was coming in fast.

At the last second, she dove to the side once again, and rolled out of the way of the attack. Her shoulder connected with the hard-packed earth and mixed gravel of the road. One thing was sure: Honour Bound was not going to look like a pristine Canterlot VIP's bodyguard when this was over.

"C'mon, get her, Duck!"

"Yeah, end it quick, Ducky-o!"

Over by the bridge, the rest of Kilfeather's squad had started to cheer on their nearest champion. Said champion immediately took a break from making charging passes at Bound to acknowledge the crowd.

"Ha-ha! First I gotta warm her up, guys!"

It was a welcome breather for Honour. She took a few steps toward the left side of the road, taking a glance over to the ditch. It had a nice, soft shoulder down into some mixed tall grasses, which rose up again into a fresh field of alfalfa sprouts.

‘That'll do perfectly.’

"... Heads-up, foxy filly!"

This time, Duck came at her from the middle of a ninety-degree banked turn, his belly toward her so as to kick out with all four of his hooves. Since his lower wing needed room to extend, he'd come in from too high up, and she didn't have to do much more than crouch down to avoid his attack.

"... Yeah, get down in that dirt, you filthy nag!"

That sent the bridge-guards into another bout of laughter.

"Hey, Duck, you big stud, you better take that mare before she gets too dusted-up!"

"Nah, Reiner, Ducky-o likes 'em down 'n' dirty, ha-ha!"

Honour’s opponent had begun to climb up into the air for what was probably going to be a power-dive down. Still not what she needed him to do. Kicking over, Duck completed his loop and came hurtling down at her as if a pendulum in full swing.

But another tricky, last-minute roll into the hard packed earth cleared her from his way. Undeterred, Duck climbed once again for another looped-pass.

Honour’s eyes narrowed. 'Come on, you jerk -- get down and rush me on my level.'

Watching the pegasus climb into the morning sky, she wondered how things were going for her two comrades.

Lily Glamerspear

"GET SOME! GET SOME! GET SOME!"

'Holy moley is shooting at your abusive ex-coltfriend ever cathartic.'

It would have been even better if he would come down close enough for a solid hit, but things were pretty good already. Glamerspear was just taking pot-shots at Val while she cantered around in the fallow field east of the road, trying to find the perfect vantage point on the rolling hills. Somewhere with a nice, commanding view of the area, with no nearby bushes or trees to interfere with either her line-of-sight or her line-of-fire.

'Icepone' was way up in the sky already, and he was a receding target.

When Glamerspear saw him start to climb, she’d shut off her shield and started conjuring magical spear-tips, sending the constructs hurtling toward him in bursts of three. As her ex receded from view, she stopped firing and brought her shield back up with a personal radius and at moderate strength. She couldn't let him get the drop on her while she was still setting up, after all. And she couldn't waste all of her energy on shielding -- she wouldn't win anything that way.

Unfortunately, there didn't seem to be a 'perfect' spot in the area; everything was either too close to thick cover or on the downward slope of one of the larger terrain features. She'd have to settle for staying in the middle of the open field, relocating as necessary to obtain a good shot. Speaking of good shots, Glamerspear gave a quick double-tap on the side of her helmet to extend their high-magnification sunglass shades.

'Now, where's the damn spotter with the targeting info?'

'...Oh, right.'

She wasn't part of a battery this time. She was going to have to reacquire her own quarry.

There were quite a few clouds in the sky, which was both good and bad. Good, because the sun would occasionally be shaded, making it easier to look up. Bad, because that gave Val something to hide behind and circle around with.

Her shield wasn't helping either, as the translucent dome was giving everything a purple tint. Double-tapping on her helmet a few more times, she cycled through the filter modes, trying them all to find an appropriate one.

'Ugh, this is the worst part of the job. Where did that bastard get to?'

Suddenly, there was a crackling noise behind her, and Lily could feel her shield shudder as something crashed into it.

Except it's not some-thing, it's some-pony.

"Heads-up, Centurion!"

Val had somehow managed to sneak up on her, ramming his hooves straight into her shield-bubble.

'Pfft, as if that's going to do anything.'

He gave one final swipe at her protective field with an armored forehoof.

"...Tag, you're it!"

With that, he shot up into the sky again. Lily dropped her shield and prepared to fire.

But the bastard was headed straight for the sun, barrel-rolling as he went. The best she could do was squint and send a few more, barely-aimed spears his way.

If he was going to keep using that trick, she'd better keep her helmet in magnified, darkest-tint mode. And there was no sense in staying in one place, where he'd know exactly where she was all the time. With a quick double-check that he was still climbing, she quickly galloped across the field, setting herself up against a large thicket.

Once her back was up against it, she brought her shield up once more. Maybe a little cover would help her out after all.

"I spy, with my little eye, something that starts with 'Lil!"

Searching the sky, Lily could hear him, but she couldn't see him.

"... Loser!"

Suddenly, Val popped out from around the bush, crashing his hooves into her shield once more as he flew by at tremendous speed.

'Damn.' She actually felt the impact that time. He must really have been going fast before he'd struck.

This time he didn't climb up, but instead turned to her right, following the terrain. Instantly, she lowered her shield and with another electric crack, sent a dozen more telekinetic spear-shots his way. But, firing at full flank, her shots only managed to blast small craters into the surrounding hills or punch at empty sky, winking out of existence a hundred meters past her target. All of them missed.

'Damn it;’ the magnified optics were too zoomed-in for her to draw a steady bead on the bastard!

She'd better switch back to just un-magnified, tinted as soon as that volley was done.

Val cut through one of the dividing rows of poplar trees, passing beyond her sight once more.

'Oh, right, better bring your shield back up!

...And relocate again... Damn it.'

As Lily scurried to her next sniping-post to await Val's next move, her thoughts turned to her companions. Hopefully, Sparkshower was doing okay. Sending her up against Icepone's wingpony?

Talk about a trial by fire.

Or, by ice, she supposed.

Artemis Sparkshower

Right then, all Sparkshower could think about was the sound of her own breathing.

Visor down, legs clenched tight up against her body, spear held close.

She had just one target: the cloud cover.

"Heeeeeeeeeeeeere filly-filly-filly-filly-filly!"

'Joker' crashed his hooves into her flank armor once again, and it was all she could do not to shriek out in terror. She was rattled around inside her plate, but a second later he was gone again, zooming off to her other side.

'Just gotta keep flapping and heading up.' Once she got to the clouds, he'd have trouble finding her, and she could relax a bit.

"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaanypony at home in that tin can?"

Another loud metallic 'klank' against her side-plate, and she could feel the wind pull underneath her wings as Joker not only struck her armor, but pushed her down with his legs.

"If you're not going to answer, maybe I should just keep knocking, whaddya say, huh?"

He kicked again, and she could feel him lay his forehooves on her shoulders.

'No! That's not good at all!'

Rolling over onto her back, she lashed out with two of her own hooves, only to catch nothing but air as he extended his wings and used them as air-brakes to fall back behind her.

"Oh, so there is somepony at home after all! Well, hidey-ho, neighbor, ha-ha-ha!"

Sparkshower rolled back upright and continued heading toward, what she hoped, would be her safety zone.

'Halfway there, now.'

"Ah-ah-ah! Get your head out of the clouds, little filly!"

This time, Joker didn't attack her flank, but came crashing down straight onto her back, sending her wings upright as the air went whistling by. She dared a glance down, and saw the ground getting closer with horrifying speed.

He had his hooves on her backplate and was just pushing straight down!

'You've got to do something!'

For a few seconds, all she could do was breathe.

Then she remembered that she had a spear.

Kicking its length forward with her hind legs so she was holding it firmly in her forehooves, she once again rolled over to strike her tormentor. This time, just air-braking wasn't enough, as the extra reach from Artemis’ spear caught the purple pegasus' green-colored tail, slicing a healthy chunk of it clean off.

"Whoaa! Close shave, hoo-hoo!" Joker hovered in place and twisted his head to watch his missing lengths of hair flutter their way down to ground.

Bringing the spear back under her control, Artemis completed the roll and resumed her upward course.

"... Ah, well, I needed a haircut, anyways, hee-hee!"

She couldn't let him get a drop on her like that again!

As much as she wanted to head straight for the clouds, ignoring everything around her, she couldn't. He could out-climb and out-turn her, and he could even overpower her own wings if he put his mind to it. Artemis had to keep her wits and use her spear to keep him from taking advantage of her too much.

Although they were terrifying, his initial 'boom-and-zoom' hoof-slashes didn't much alter her course or hurt her. It was when he thought she wouldn't hit back at all that he started to get some real work in. So she needed to make him think he couldn't get away with that. But if she was going to be swinging her spear as a preventative measure, she was going to need to be able to see him.

That meant coming out of her safe shell, and raising her visor.

It was a scary thought, but upon reflection, he couldn't get at her face without her seeing him anyway, and she could always snap it back down again. With some trepidation, she reached a hoof up and quickly moved it out of the way.

And then she turned her head to look behind her.

Joker was hot on her tail. He grinned when he saw her face.

"Hey, there, neighbor! Dropped the veil, did ya? Ooh, lucky me! Lucky-lucky-lucky!"

Should she make another sweep with her spear? He seemed to be keeping his distance for now. And she didn't have the agility to swing while still climbing.

Better to just stay the course for now.

But she'd keep her eye on him.

What she'd had so far was just a warm-up.

Hopefully, Glamerspear and Honour could win their fights so this battle wouldn't even matter.

Honour Bound

Corporal Honour Bound was covered in dust, with two aching shoulders. And her legs were starting to get a bit tired, too.

"Geez, this is like watching mares mud-wrestling."

"Yeah, except there's just one, and boy is she really getting into it."

"Anypony else have a hard-on?"

"Don't tease me, Applewood."

The laugh-squad over at the bridge was still enjoying the show.

But, as she got to her hooves once more, all Honour cared about right then was getting Duck to make just the right pass at her. He had to be getting tired of those high-climbing loops by now.

He should at least be getting dizzy.

"Wooo! I'm startin' to feel a little high-and-dry from all this nothin' I'm gettin'. Ya keep blue-ballin' me down there, foxy-filly!"

'Oh, thank Celestia.'

"... How about we try something fresh for a change?"

Sweeping into a banked descent, Duck came down to skim the ground, circling around wide to size her up.

'Come at me across the road, you big idiot, come on...'

"... How about some alfalfa to go with all that gravel you've been eating?"

'Finally.'

With Honour on the west side of the road, up against the embankment and the ditch, Duck came charging at her from across the eastern field. He must have been roiled; his approach, though fast, was careless. He even had his hind legs kicked out behind him, rather than tucked up under his body.

This was it -- she wasn't going to get a better shot at him than this.

"Smash her right into that mud, Duck!"

"Yeah, c'mon, get her in the ditch!"

The cheers only steadied his aim right at her. Once again, she turned to face him head on, but this time, she was crouched down as low as possible on her forehooves. She could see him adjust even further down so that he'd be level with the road when he struck.

In the blink of an eye, he was almost on her, and Honour sprung her trap.

Shoving with her forelegs, she flipped herself into the air and over onto her back. As her butt connected with the edge of the road and she started to roll backwards down the embankment, she could feel his approach carried on the wind before him.

That's when she kicked out with her hind legs as hard as she could, her hips still just barely resting on the elevated roadway. Just as his head peeked over the edge of the road at her, she felt her hind legs connect with his lower torso.

She pushed in as deep as possible into what felt like soft flesh, not hard ribs.

Nor the hard armor that would have normally been there, had he not taken it off as part of the challenge. The transferred momentum from his charge sent her careening down into the wet ditch with a cold splash. Dizzied and with a few bullrushes blocking her view, all she could do was pray to Celestia she'd got him.

Luckily, the bridge chorus clued her in almost immediately.

"OOOOOOOOOOOOOH!"

"Oh, BUCK, man!"

"Holy mother of Faust!"

"DAAAAAAAMN!"

Struggling to her hooves, she saw that they all, save one, had one hoof up to their mouths in shock. The last was clutching his own groin in sympathy.

Tearing her gaze from them, Honour turned around.

'Duck' was lying on his side among the alfalfa plants, moaning loudly, and clutching his privates with both forehooves.

"Ugnnnnnnnnnn... Ohhhhhhhhhhh.... My baaa-haa-haaalllllssssss... Buuuuuuckkkkkk...."

Honour took a deep breath to settle herself, and then walked over to the injured pegasus.

He was actually crying.

It looked like she nearly blew right through the protective field. His coat still looked a little electrified, though.

Between tears, he groaned in pain, his eyes held tightly shut. "Buckin'.... crazy cheap-shottin' mare.... Damn beast outta Tartarus..."

Reaching down, she forcefully turned him over on his back, exposing his belly and face, and raised one hoof high into the air.

"Hey..."

At the sound of her voice, he opened his eyes.

She swiped down at his right temple.

"... Duck!"

He didn't even have time to blink. The instant she connected, his lights were out cold. There was a crackle in the air, and Honour felt the totem's protective field drop around her. Over at the bridge, Kilfeather's goons were shaking their heads in disbelief, muttering among themselves.

Honour Bound just went straight over to her armor and started to put it back on.

Standing just where he'd been when the fight started, Anonymous tipped his hat to her, a sly smile on his face. "Nicely done, Corporal."

"Thank you, sir."

Turning, he faced the fallow field to the East, where Glamerspear had just fired off another noisy barrage that failed to connect.

"Now, let's see if we can make it two."

Chapter 17

Lily Glamerspear

This was the most frustrating fight Glamerspear had ever been in. Every time she relocated, Val seemed to find a new way to ambush her.

Sit in the middle of the field? He'd break her line of sight by climbing up into the clouds, or diving behind a hill, or circling around one of the wooded areas. Then, while she was going crazy trying to re-acquire, he seemed to find the perfect direction to break cover and ambush her from. Again.

If she took up a position at the edge of the field, next to the tree-line, hoping to isolate his approach vectors? Well, then he managed to cut through the forest itself, dodging trees to slam into her shield from behind.

If a bunch of trees wouldn't stop him, how about using a thicket of bushes as cover? He couldn't blow through those, but he still found a way to sneak above or around them to strike.

Regardless of where she took up a firing position, the pattern remained the same: he struck and then retreated. She'd drop shields and launch a volley. He’d dodge the volley and break her line-of-sight. She'd grumble, raise shields, and relocate. He'd manage to figure out exactly where she was, and figure out a new way to sneak up on her.

Wash, rinse, repeat. Not even the Changeling invasion was this infuriating! Granted, the Changelings were a lot more dangerous. There were enough of them that it was actually a serious threat to her shield. With just Val banging on her projected force field, he was clearly playing the long game, hoping to wear her out slowly. Or hoping she would make a mistake, like forgetting to raise it, allowing him to clobber her.

The truth was that all the shooting and shield-swapping was taking a toll on her. Glamerspear's reserves of mana were considerable, but not unlimited. But it was mental frustration, not magical exhaustion, that was really wearing on her right then.

"C'mon, Ice, she's sitting under that tree like a rotten apple full of worms!"

And Val's goon squad wasn't helping.

The only solace she had at the moment was the fact that Honour Bound had clearly won her fight. There'd been a burst of gasps and horrified hooting from the spectator squadron, and then Lily saw Honour Bound stand up without her opponent anywhere in sight. Running these battles simultaneously was still a good idea, but it looked like momentum had a role to play anyway. If she could get even one or two rounds to connect with 'Icepone', things would look even better!

"Wakey-wakey, sleepy-head!"

'Damn it!'

She felt two hooves connect with the top of her shield, which now had the consistency less of a solid brick wall and more of a firm bouncy bubble. A tough bouncy bubble, but still. The bastard actually dove straight down toward her lone tree, and found a path through its branches to strike at her from the one direction she had thought safe!

Aha, but he'd made a mistake!

She was so low to the ground that he couldn't translate that vertical descent into horizontal speed after his attack. He was accelerating away from her, but he'd started from almost a complete stop.

It was the perfect time to strike.

She took her time to line up the shot, then fired a satisfyingly long eight-round burst.

Keeping him in sight, she watched her bolts travel towards him. Time seemed to slow down as they hurtled forward.

‘Come on, come on…’

It didn't even look like he'd be able to dodge them!

But just as they were closing in, Val suddenly rolled his body toward her and swiped out with his right forehoof.

Glamerspear's jaw dropped. He batted the spear-tips away with his sabot -- the ultimate humiliation.

Val gave her a cheeky salute. "You tossing garbage my way, Lily-baby? Try harder next time!"

'HOW!?'

Oh, buck, she'd forgotten to drop her shield before firing! The bucking thing had interfered with her own shots, slowing them down so that he didn't even have to dodge! That bucked-up bucking bucker bucked her bucking bullets!

Seething, she looked for a new hiding-place.

She had to get her head screwed on straight again, or else she'd keep making mistakes like that.

And then he'd really have her.

Which would put everything on Sparkshower.

Lily wouldn’t say she couldn't do it, but she'd rather not put her in that position. Besides, those bucking bastards deserved to be cleanly swept by her crew!

Artemis Sparkshower

Right then, all Sparkshower could feel was the pulsing sound of her own heart pounding. Calculating that she was going to limit her counter-attacks, Joker had started to repeatedly attack her from above, never quite striking long enough or hard enough that he would be forced to stay in her reach.

Still, she couldn't let his attacks go unchallenged. And since she didn't know when, if ever, he was going to come in long enough to give her the chance to make a counter-strike, she had decided to be proactive. That meant using alternating banked turns to climb, and working her longspear for all it was worth, thrusting and slicing whenever Joker approached. She was keeping him at bay, and she'd nearly reached the cloud cover, but the effort had been exhausting.

"Ooh, we're getting awfully close to those nasty-looking clouds now, aren't we? But don't worry, I'll make sure we don't reach them!"

At least dodging the considerable reach of her weapon had kept him mostly quiet until now. Beside the inevitable laughter and giggle every time he got a blow in, or narrowly avoided her own, of course. Twisting her head around as she changed tack to a left bank, Sparkshower craned her neck back to see what was coming next.

This time, he was opting to attack from outside her bank.

She readied her spear against his charge.

But instead of striking her armor and tasting her spear, he dived low underneath her. It was all she could do to just relax her muscles as he blew through her lower wing, dislodging a few feathers as he went. All his strike really accomplished was interrupting her banked turn and dropping her a few hooves down.

But attacking a fellow pegasus' wing, in a formal duel? That was beyond the pale, especially for a distinguished member of the Royal Guard! Or, perhaps it was just an honest mistake? Maybe he dived only to avoid her spear at the last moment?

"What's the matter, filly? Everypony knows that dragons don't have feathers, ha-ha-hee!"

‘He was serious!’

After all the terror he'd caused her, was this fight just one big joke to him? As he circled around, Sparkshower banked over again to the right, keeping her thickly-armored back to him. In Cloudsdale, deliberately attacking a wing was grounds to immediately halt a duel with a loss to the instigator. But they were so far up and away from everypony on the ground it was doubtful that any of them would have seen that.

Except maybe Glamerspear, with her fancy magnifying optics.

If she was even looking their way.

Which she probably wasn't.

No, it was just herself, all alone up there with this... this... this miserable, dishonorable, shameful excuse for a Guardspony!

She found that her fear of facing a formidable foe had been replaced with something else.

Righteous anger.

Glamerspear was right; Valiant and his squadron were just a bunch of uncivilized thugs!

Well, she knew just how to deal with that.

It would mean taking even longer to reach the cloud cover, but by making sure to hold her wings lightly when he moved in to strike, she could avoid him doing any serious damage. Tucking them in would be even better, but Joker moved so quickly that it would be too risky a proposition. If she tucked them in too early, she'd lose more altitude. If she tucked them in too late, her muscles would still be taut when he struck, and he might actually injure her. No, keeping them loose was the best way to approach the engagement.

And although Joker was sinking to despicable means, perhaps it was a good sign, after all. After all, it was just as Drill Sergeant Mareline Tandem had taught her, way back in Pegasus Individual Armour Training:

'When an enemy decides to attack your wings, it's because they have given up trying to penetrate your armor.'

Did that mean Joker was starting to give up?

She sure hoped so.

Honour Bound

Honour Bound was presently watching Specialist Glamerspear fail.

"What's wrong, Corporal?"

She shook her head. "It's Glamerspear, sir. I should have known this would happen."

Beside her, the Royal Engineer was watching the air-versus-anti-air duel with concern. "I can see that things don't seem to be going her way, but could you explain to me why?"

She turned up to face him. "Specialist Glamerspear is used to working in a battery, sir. Her helmet doesn't have the magnification needed to keep track of Lieutenant Kilfeather beyond her maximum firing range."

There was more shouting from in front of her, so she looked away from her VIP.

"... And all that galloping around she's doing is pointless, though I can see why she thinks she has to do it."

Out in the field, Glamerspear sent another failed volley after a retreating 'Icepone'.

"... She needs somepony who can keep eyes on target, to call it out, and to tell her when to shield and when to fire."

Over at the bridge, the peanut gallery chimed in on the latest exchange.

"Glam keeps throwing out the spam!"

"Yeah, except this meat's gone rotten, haw-haw!"

"Go, Ice! Dodge that trash!"

Squinting as she watched Lieutenant Kilfeather make his way off into the distance once more, Honour barely noticed Anonymous' footsteps as he walked away from her. In ten seconds, the pegasus was completely beyond visual range. It was almost impressive that Glamerspear had been holding it together so far. In her place, Honour would probably be going nuts by now.

"Excuse me, gentlecolts!"

Over by the bridge, Anonymous spoke out loudly, and the remainder of Valiant's squadron all turned to face him.

She hoped he wasn't about to provoke something foolish.

"... May I take it from your behavior that providing verbal support to the duelists is within the rules?"

Most of the pegasi, and both of the earth ponies, looked like they barely understood what he meant. The rest wore a look of disgust.

'Applewood', the one with a mustache, shot a glance to his compatriots before speaking up. "Yeah, sure, 'm'lord'. You go ahead and provide all the 'verbal support' you want."

Anonymous tipped his top hat. "Capital, gentlecolts; my thanks."

He was walking back Honour's way. Strange. Did the Royal Engineer expect to form a two-pony rival cheer-leading team for Glamerspear? Additional distracting voices were probably the last thing she needed right then.

Anonymous pointed at her as he gingerly made his way down the embankment, heading towards the tents. "Corporal, tell Glamerspear to set up a firing position as close as possible to the road here, and order her to stay put."

That's when she realized that he wasn't heading for the tents, he was headed for the carriage. Maybe he had something back there to help out?

Glamerspear had her shield back up again and was looking around for a new place to set up.

"Specialist! Hey, Specialist!"

Could she not hear Honour under that fancy helmet of hers?

"SPECIALIST GLAMERSPEAR!" The unicorn's head swiveled around to her, and she started trotting her way. Pointing one hoof at the nearest little peak in the fallow farmer's field, Honour cupped the other one to her mouth. "Set up on that hill and await further instructions!"

Glamerspear nodded, and broke into a gallop towards the indicated position.

OK, so that was step one.

Over at the carriage, Anonymous was hunched over the luggage-box at the back of the coach, digging through the various surveying equipment the two of them had hunted for almost all day yesterday. As Glamerspear took up her post, her shield raised, she looked over at the corporal, expectantly.

She couldn’t offer anything more but to hold up a hoof as a sign for her to wait.

At last, she could see Anonymous trotting back towards her, a large, heavy-looking metal object slung over his shoulder.

It was a pair of enormously large, strange-looking brass binoculars. She remembered that device; it was one of the most troublesome items to acquire yesterday. What was it called again?

Honour gave it some thought. ‘Something about 'range...'’

‘A 'Coincidence Rangefinder,'’ that's what it was.

Recalling her discussions with the Royal Engineer, she remembered that it was some kind of device for determining how far any object was, even if its size wasn't known. All she really knew was that he had spotted it in a supply catalogue, he had insisted that a pair be lent to him. The palace depot commander had tried to stonewall him, saying it was an extremely precious piece of equipment, normally used only on boats, and that they didn't stock such items in the palace anyway. Her VIP hadn't relented, looming over the commander and waving Celestia's writ. In the end, two of the depot underlings had wound up having to gallop halfway out of the city, all the way down to the riverside naval depot, to get it for him.

At the time, Honour Bound hadn't asked what it was for, since Anonymous had sent her to collect a few items from the palace warehouse shelves personally. Right then, all she could tell was that it looked very, very heavy, watching as Anonymous struggled up the hill to come up beside her.

"Wasn't there a tripod with that, sir?"

"Yes, but I'm too tall for it, and anyways the mount was designed for naval gunnery and won't allow me to look straight up." Hefting the huge thing off of his shoulder, he gently placed it down on the ground and crouched low to get a solid grip.

"... Let me know if you see him before me, Corporal."

Both of them started to scan the sky, searching for Lieutenant Kilfeather. And Glamerspear was out there searching for him, too.

His last two strikes were from down low, and he'd escaped from down low last time as well. Something told her that next time, he'd be using the cloud cover.

That's when she spotted him.

"There, sir, two o'clock, very high!"

He followed her hoof to where Icepone was coming in for another attack run. At that distance, he was on Glamerspear in seconds, crashing into her shield while she was looking the other way completely.

Anonymous stood up again with the enormous device in his hands. He had to swing his arms just to bring it up to his eyes, and Bound saw him lean back from the weight of it, grunting with the effort. She doubted he'd be able to hold it very steady, or for very long. There was a ticking noise while he twisted a ring on the right barrel, following Kilfeather's retreat up into the sky. Eventually, the pegasus was completely out of her sight, although Anonymous still seemed to be following him.

The seconds stretched out as she waited for the next step.

That's when Anonymous bellowed out a command in a voice louder than all the drill sergeants at Fort Horseshoe Bend put together.

"THREE, TARGET PEGASUS, SEVEN O'CLOCK HIGH, RANGE: FIFTEEN HUNDRED METERS, STEADY LEFT!"

Glamerspear turned to face them both, and the look on her face was one of utter confusion.

Suggested background music: Jan Dusek and Varhan Orchestrovič Bauer - 'This is War', from 'ArmA 3: Malden' [2017]
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JgHATY3SDg0

The corporal shot her an angry glare and pointed North with one hoof, then swept out seven o'clock with the second. Glamerspear seemed to get it, reorienting her body with the polar axis and scanning the sky behind her for her target.

"TARGET: SIX O'CLOCK HIGH, RANGE: THIRTEEN HUNDRED METRES, APPROACHING LEFT!"

Kilfeather was still way beyond visual range, but Glamerspear still had her shield up.

"Sir, you'll want her to lower her shields until he gets too close."

He bellowed again. "SHIELDS DOWN!"

Out in the field, the unicorn's shield instantly dropped.

"FIVE O'CLOCK MEDIUM, TWELVE HUNDRED METERS, DESCENDING APPROACHING LEFT!"

Honour heard the Royal Engineer grunt as he took a step to rotate in place. With a deep breath, he rolled his shoulders and tried to brace himself.

"FOUR O'CLOCK MEDIUM, RANGE ELEVEN HUNDRED, DESCENDING STEADY LEFT!"

"Naw, naw, EIGHT O'CLOCK, yeah! EIGHT O'CLOCK, RANGE: YOUR BUTT!"

"Six o'clock!"

"Twelve o'clock!"

Over at the bridge, the rest of Kilfeather's squadron had cottoned on to what the Royal Engineer was doing, and were trying to run interference. They were loud, but even if they all worked together as a chorus, Honour Bound doubted they could match the lungs of the Royal Engineer.

"THREE O'CLOCK LOW, RANGE ONE THOUSAND, ASCENDING APPROACHING LEFT!"

This must be it; he was on the deck at a thousand meters and popping up to gain some elevation before the final dive.

As loud as Anonymous was, there was no way Kilfeather should have any idea he'd been spotted. When he got a little closer, maybe he'd even think he'd hit the jackpot, what with Glamerspear's shield being down.

"TWO O'CLOCK MEDIUM, RANGE NINE HUNDRED, APPROACHING LEFT!"

That announcement was followed by another groan. Anonymous' arms were starting to shake under the weight. But it looked like Glamerspear had spotted her target, as she’d turned to face the Lieutenant. There was something funny going on above her head, though. Where there should have been three or four waiting magical spear-tips, Honour could see twenty.

And more were popping in to join them.

‘Is she all right?’

Lily Glamerspear

"ONE O'CLOCK MEDIUM, RANGE EIGHT HUNDRED, APPROACHING LEFT!"

How in Equestria could one creature be so loud?

Glamerspear wasn't so much hearing the Royal Engineer as she was feeling his voice somehow echo inside her skull. Some kind of magic?

Either way, thanks to him and those goofy big binoculars, she was finally drawing a bead on Kilfeather on his way in. At this range, he was still little more than a speck, but a speck that was getting bigger by the second.

This was it, he was trying for a medium entry into a dive, circling around where he thought she didn't see him.

A three-round burst wouldn't be enough.

Four rounds wouldn’t do, either.

Even five was just too few.

There wouldn't be any targets after this one, so she broke the normal rules of engagement and poured every drop of energy she had left into her next volley. It had to be one, single, glorious alpha strike to end the fight in one fell blow.

"TWO O'CLOCK MEDIUM, RANGE SEVEN HUNDRED, APPROACHING RIGHT!"

Five hundred meters was her maximum effective range. Should she fire when he hit the limit? Or take a chance and wait until he was closer and it would be even harder for him to dodge? He could close a hundred meters in the blink of an eye.

She settled on four hundred -- at that range, he'd just barely have gotten a decent look at her, while he'd be a decent target in her optics. Meanwhile, for ammunition, all she could think was 'more, more, more,' loading up spear after spear. She didn't even want to look up; there were probably thirty or more rounds up there ready to go. She felt her sweat pooling in her coat.

"THREE O'CLOCK MEDIUM, RANGE SIX HUNDRED, APPROACHING STRAIGHT!"

'Any second now...'

Her breathing became labored as her vision started to blur. She blinked rapidly to clear the haze, but it didn't go away. And the haze was... purple!

'Oh, buck, are you manaburning yourself?'

"FIVE-FIFTY!!"

'Wait... just how many rounds did I load?'

She did not dare break eye contact with her target for even a second. But she started to feel a crushing weight on her back.

"FIVE HUNDRED!"

The physical consequences of severely overloading her horn didn't matter now. She would deal with the manaburn blowback after she got this shot off.

"FOUR HUNDRED!"

"FEEL THE WRATH OF A CENTURION OF THE RAM!"

Required watching: Centurion C-RAM engages mortar on test range; go full-screen and fast-forward to 0:40
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XFPxbZ7lLc4&t=40s

In her magnified targeting view, Glamerspear watched what must have been thousands of spear-tips go hurling toward Kilfeather. She was completely deafened by the effect, and could feel her stomach turning from the manaburn recoil.

'Oh, I am going to feel bad in a second or two.'

But probably not as bad as Valiant felt right then. Hundreds of rounds flew past him, but hundreds more thundered home, crashing into his body and armor. In the blink of an eye, his sabots were pounded straight off of his hooves. He barely got his forelegs up in time to cover his face, before his criniere was shredded and his helmet went tumbling off.

Meanwhile, what had once been a magnificent pair of feathered wings had been reduced to nothing more than two fleshy stalks and a white puff of smoke.

More telekinetic rounds sliced up the straps of his pectoral piece and sent it hurtling off behind him.

Then it was the sheer weight of all those spear-tips, blunted by the protective field of the MXP totem, that sent him into an involuntary, sideways spin through their cumulative impacts. The tail end of the biggest anti-air barrage Equestria had ever seen slammed into his left flank, utterly destroying his flanchard armor.

Something desperately wanted to escape from Lily's insides. She swallowed it back down to see things out.

It only took a few seconds for Valiant 'Icepone' Kilfeather to drop to the ground, and he went down hard. What little remained of his armor plating went careening off as he tumbled sideways through the field, like a barrel flung off of Canterlot's highest peak.

Finally, he came to a stop, and he didn't get up.

'YES!! Got you, you sucker!'

She tasted bile in her mouth.

‘...Uh-oh.’

Lily’s friend from down below had started knocking again, and she keeled over forward.

Chapter 18

Honour Bound

Corporal Honour Bound, with her hooves held to her ears, was watching her victorious unicorn comrade puke her very guts out. Holy Celestia, how could one pony even have that much inside them? Did she eat the entire buffet at breakfast this morning?

But at least she was still standing.

...Mostly.

More importantly, that enormous volley, which was probably loud enough to be heard all the way back in Canterlot, seemed to have utterly annihilated Lieutenant Kilfeather. The humor squad over at the bridge had collectively dropped their jaws to the ground in shock. To Honour’s left, Anonymous was flat on his back, knocked over by the report of Glamerspear's incredible attack. Cradling the immense coincidence-rangefinder binoculars, he struggled to his feet before slinging the rangefinder over his shoulder. The Royal Engineer took a moment to survey the scene of carnage and sickness before him.

"Corporal, are you absolutely certain that 'totem' is protecting everypony?"

She nodded. "Believe me, sir, things get just as brutal during the MXP Games, and nopony winds up going away with anything worse than aches and pains. Although, I've never seen a unicorn suffer third-degree acute mana poisoning under its effects before..."

She kept her eyes on Glamerspear, seeking to make sure she was okay. After Glamerspear finished throwing up more than enough to fill up what would surely be Equestria's most disgusting swimming pool, Honour watched the unicorn finally catch her breath.

"... It must be working, because under normal circumstances, she'd be in so much pain that she wouldn't be able to stand up."

Taking a deep breath of exasperation, Anonymous lifted his hat and wiped his brow. "Well, that's two. Let's see if Sparkshower can make it three. In the meantime, I'm going to put these bloody things away before I damage them."

Slowly, he trudged off toward the edge of the road.

"Sir, you might as well call the carriage back. We've earned the right to continue on our way, at least."

"Good idea, Corporal."

Hefting the heavy weight up further on his shoulder, he put two fingers up to his mouth and blew a sharp whistle. Down by the tents, their two carriage-pullers looked up, saw him beckoning them back, and then started to hitch themselves back up to the coach.

Out in the field, Honour Bound watched Glamerspear wipe her mouth with a hoof scarcely cleaner than what she was wiping. Well, that was two of them covered in muck, now. All things considered, Honour had come out light with just some bruises, dust, and a coat full of mud. Glamerspear was going to need to park herself in the Hobble river for a good, long time to get rid of that.

Now that Glamerspear was done, though, she didn't head for the shore. Instead, she went galloping straight toward the tip of the enormous, smouldering gash that the defeated Lieutenant Kilfeather had torn in the ground. It seemed she took off too fast, too soon, because she was soon hunched over again, giving a little encore performance. But soon she was off again, paying no heed to what her body was trying to tell her. Once she reached Kilfeather, her horn lit up. That was an extraordinarily risky maneuver after what had just happened, but it seemed she was all out of sick for now. And besides, all she did with it was pick up some piece of his armor that had landed a few meters away.

It was his helmet -- completely wrecked, and twisted into an almost unrecognizable form, but the little remaining bit of the decorative brush gave it away. Glamerspear slowly walked back toward the road, holding her prize. For a pony whose face, neck, chest, and hooves were covered in barf, she looked unbelievably pleased with herself.

Honour turned to look at Anonymous, who was looking up at the western sky as he waited for the coach to return.

Just how far up there did Sparkshower and Joker get? Would she even be able to see them from down there?

Artemis Sparkshower

Specialist Artemis Sparkshower was so close to the clouds she could already feel the mist. But in response, Joker had redoubled his efforts to stop her. Trying to smash her feathers wasn't enough; now he was attacking her wing-arms themselves. But even as he managed to evade her counter-attacks, the fight was not going his way. When he struck at the outer edge of her wings, their relaxed posture meant that he did no damage. When he struck at the base at her wing-shoulders, all he got was a hoof-full of Artemis' armored epaulets.

"Golly-gee, little-filly. We're almost in the clouds, how about that?"

Another slam attack from below was easily deflected by the thick greaves on her forelegs, and Joker went darting off to the side as she poked her spear in his direction.

"... You'd better spit out your name before we get up in there, or else how are we going to play hide-and-seek?"

Joker's frustration was obvious from his voice. And from the manner of his flight, too.

Gone were the big boom-and-zoom attacks. Now he was using short controlled flaps to dodge Sparkshower's spear attacks and get inside her guard. But once he got there, his strikes, no longer backed up by so much momentum, were even more ineffective than before. And, though he'd certainly startled her at first, she was through being terrified by that miscreant scum.

As Joker darted in, and then ducked away from her spear once again before backing off to find a new angle, a loose puff of cloud floated by, giving Artemis pause. If he was no longer a threat, did she even need to hide in the clouds? Wouldn't it be better to invite him to keep up his pointless attacks, and tire him out more quickly?

True, there was the threat to her wings, but so what? Artemis' position in the Royal Guard required her to maintain class 'A' flight skill with a minimum of a level seven endurance rating, and at her last examination she'd beaten that and scored a ten! And an A-10 like her was supposed to be able to make it back to base on just half a wing. What good was Joker's required AAA flight skill doing him now? And his MOS only required level five endurance rating.

She was tired and terrified at the start, trying to gain altitude as quickly as possible, but now, taking things more slowly had left her wing-muscles feeling far more comfortable, despite the sting from the earlier effort.

Meanwhile, Joker was looking pretty ragged. He could still turn on a ten-bit-piece, but only at slow speeds. Joker circle-strafed around in front of her, sizing her up. Even as she watched him warily, spear held close, something else caught her eye behind him.

Something big, and dark, and very puffy. And wet!

That pillar-shaped cumulonimbus cloud was raining over there!

She wouldn't have minded a little shower to cool down right then. As brisk as the air was at that altitude, she had taken off her caparison to avoid damaging it in the fight, and the sun, when it shined through the clouds, really warmed up her armor.

But maybe there was somepony up there with her who could use a taste of what that cloud had to offer as well.

Joker seemed to have given up on his rapid-fire-hits tactics for now; he just continued to circle Artemis threateningly. Was he worn out, or just waiting for a moment to strike? She decided to check which it was, and make a move toward the rain-cloud.

Looking over her shoulder, she could see him following behind her, but it didn't look like he was ready for another attack quite yet.

Maybe this was really it - was he actually tired?

"Oh, are we turning it into a race now, little filly? Alright, I'm game!"

Not so tired that he would stop talking, apparently. Well, maybe that was enough, though! Pumping her wings, she raised the stakes, and her speed.

Time for this nightmare to end!

Suggested background music: Cheap Trick - 'Mighty Wings', from 'Top Gun' [1985]
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=L-4XsDQYDi4

Holding her spear close, tip forward, she accelerated toward the towering column before her. Behind her, Joker was close on her tail, wearing a grin. Was he enjoying the thrill of the chase?

‘Good! Get in close, 'Joker', because it's time to show him what a real airborne warrior can do!’

There was a mighty rumble from the cloud before her, like a groan of anticipation. Perhaps sensing that something was not right, Joker started to hang back. Was he afraid to dive into a storm? Some pegasus! Did he never even serve with AWACS, the Airborne Weather And Climate Service? Either way, having him stay back wouldn't suit her plans at all!

Artemis called back over her shoulder. "You want my name, 'Joker'?..."

Flapping her tail like a lure, she held her spear up high.

"... Well, come and get it! ..." Lowering her weapon again, she powered towards the cloud. "... Or are you all build-up and no punch-line?"

That certainly got his attention. He grit his teeth and powered forward after her. "Oh, I'm going to get your name, little filly!"

In just a few seconds, he was right behind her again. "... You want to get to that cloud? Alright, let's go!" Perhaps as an intimidation tactic, he batted at her tail. "... In there, nopony will be able to see what I'm going to do to you, ha-ha-ha!"

'Just keep coming, buster, and you'll get what's coming to you.'

The pillar of thunderous rain loomed closer. It wouldn't be long, now.

Everything depended on making the perfect turn. She gripped her spear tightly and tucked her legs in, reducing her moment of inertia. Another grumble from the storm-cloud, and this time it was deafeningly close. But this time, Joker paid the warning signs no heed, enraged by her taunt. As the first stray puffs of misty clouds start to pass her by, Sparkshower tucked her wings in, reducing her speed.

Her pursuer matched her move, holding back rather than overshooting her. Was it a lingering fear of the storm-cloud? Or was it because he knew he couldn't do a darn thing to her armor? Either way, after she flew through another big poof-ball cloud, breaking his line-of-sight, she suddenly powered forward again.

All she needed was to get a little bit ahead of him...

As soon as he passed through the cloud, he saw the distance she'd opened up. "Oh, so it's stop-and-go tricks in the clouds? I'm gonna come over there and make you scream your name for me!"

‘Now!’

She splayed her wings wide and banked over into a sharp, 180-degree turn to face him.

"My name..."

Seeing his chance to strike at her unprotected face, Joker lunged forward. As she came about, she thrust her spear at him. At the apex of her swing, she let go. Instantly reacting, he swung one of his forehooves to bat away the now-unattended weapon. But just before his sabot connected, he noticed that she'd also kicked out behind her.

And his eyes went wide, his expression turning to horror.

"... is ARTEMIS SPARKSHOWER!"

As her hoof connected with the cloud behind her, his sabot connected with the spear -- The spear whose metal shaft was still poking a solid five hooves into the storm-cloud proper.

Agitated by her kick, the towering column of water and electricity lashed out in anger. And the closest conduit was none other than Joker, thanks to her metal lightning-rod of a weapon. Sparks crackle below her, and she shut her eyes, anticipating what was to come.

There was a furious crash and a deafening thunderclap, both accompanied by a blinding flash of light. When she'd unclenched her eyes, Joker was rocketing backwards away from her, hurtling towards the ground in a flaming fireball.

'Yeah, take that!'

Before it could fall too far, Sparkshower ducked down and grabbed hold of her weapon once more.

'Holy thundershowers, did I just win?!'

"Woooooo!"

Honour Bound

There was a fireball headed right for the alfalfa field in front of Honour.

Oh, she just prayed that it wasn't Sparkshower.

Just before it crashed into the ground, the flames burned themselves out, and she caught a glimpse of purple.

'That's not Sparkshower.'

Coming in at a forty-five-degree angle, the smoldering remains of Kilfeather's second-in-command slammed into the field before her with a gritty thud, throwing up an enormous plume of dirt, gravel, and greenery.

"That's three for three."

Beside her, the Royal Engineer had traded the massive naval-issue coincidence-rangefinder gunnery binoculars for a simple pair of light reconnaissance ones, and he saw the whole thing with a close-up view. He turned up to the sky, where something golden and shiny was descending after Joker.

"... And here comes Specialist Sparkshower. She appears to be unharmed."

"Awright, nice one, Sparks!"

Behind the corporal, Glamerspear pumped a soggy hoof in the air and crammed another saltine cracker in her mouth. After taking Icepone's helmet as her personal trophy, she'd dived into the Hobble river for a bath, and then raided the supply tents for salty snacks to replenish her electrolytes.

Anonymous walked away from the carriage, heading toward the bridge, and the two of them followed after in a right echelon, leaving Sparkshower's original spot in the 'V' open.

By the time she was standing before the totem, and what remained of the air-defense squadron, Sparkshower had returned with a huge grin on her face, taking up her airborne position.

"Well, gentlecolts, I must say, for my part it's been an honor and a privilege to participate in this ancient Equestrian martial tradition..."

Sullen and shell-shocked faces stared back at him.

"... I'm sure that my retainers feel the same way."

Honour Bound didn't say anything, but behind her on her right, Glamerspear spat out a cracker and piped up. "Yeah! We were in it to win it! By Appointment to Their Majesties Princess Celestia and Princess Luna, Royal Engineer LORD Anonymous and his Equestrian Life Guards!"

Sparkshower chimed in right after her. "Special butt-kicking platoon!"

"Buck yeah! Hoof me, Sparks!"

Honour heard the clanging noise of an armored high-hoof. Followed almost immediately by a muffled 'Ow!' from Glamerspear.

Looks like she forgot the first rule of high-hoofing: never high-hoof somepony wearing heavier sabots than you.

"Now, gentlecolts, I regret to inform you that as much as I'd love to stay and feast the dignified end of this noble hastilude, I'm afraid I have urgent business in Bitsmount, and must bid you adieu. Kindly evacuate the bridge, please."

With glum looks exchanged between them, the still-standing members of the Canterlot First Air Superiority Wing broke into two groups and headed toward their fallen comrades. One of the earth ponies grabbed the totem and dragged it out of the way, while the other took up position at the side of the bridge, raised his spear and stood at attention.

Anonymous turned to Honour. "Corporal Bound, my congratulations and thanks for what you and your squad have accomplished..." Then he started toward the coach. "... But we've wasted enough time here; let's get on with our mission."

"Yes, sir."

Sparkshower and Glamerspear were both beaming.

"Well, specialists? Back to your posts!"

The two of them snapped to parade rest.

"Yes, Corporal!"
"Yes, Corporal!"

Bowing to the majesty of the moment, Honour Bound paused to give a respectful nod to each one in turn. Exchange complete, Sparkshower took back to the air, and Glamerspear scrambled up to her box seat, a cracker-box in her mouth and her trophy-helmet still floating beside her.

Anonymous climbed up into the carriage, and the corporal followed up after him, giving a call out to her draft-ponies as she shut the door.

"Gee-up!"

Although Honour was dusty and bruised, Glamerspear was soaking wet, and Anonymous' trousers were stained with mud, the carriage seemed to pull forward with a dignified grace that it didn't quite have earlier that morning.

Out the window, Bound saw the spear-pony guard still at attention.

One thing was for sure.

After running a gauntlet like this, Bitsmount should be a push-over.

Chapter 19

Honour Bound

"Reporting for duty, sir."

Turning his head, Anonymous welcomed Honour Bound with a slight smile. "Hello again, Corporal. Enjoy your lunch?"

"Yes, sir."

Shutting the door as she took up her appointed position in front of it, Corporal Honour Bound assumed her duty as bodyguard to the Very Important Pony (who isn't actually a pony), Anonymous, By Appointment To Their Majesties Princess Celestia and Princess Luna, the Royal Engineer of Equestria.

It was a little after one o'clock on Sunday, and Corporal Bound had just returned from her lunch break. Anonymous was sitting on the sofa, his back to the door, with a glass of water in one hand and the day’s newspaper in the other.

And there was something that had been gnawing at Honour’s mind ever since yesterday’s battle at Newstirrup Bridge.

"Could I have a moment of your time, sir?"

Her VIP twisted around again to face her. "Yes, Corporal? Is there a problem?"

Honour closed her eyes and took a deep breath, before exhaling through her nose and opening her eyes as she started. "I wanted to apologize for my actions yesterday..."

Anonymous lifted an eyebrow as she spoke.

"... You relied on me to make the correct decision regarding the 'Pas de Sabots', and I let you down by making the wrong choice. I want to apologize for the incident; it won't happen again."

Anonymous let the paper drop into his lap and turned around even more, draping his arm on the back of the sofa. "Are you second-guessing yourself, Corporal, just as I was doing yesterday? That's a slippery slope to fall down."

She shook her head. "It's not a guess, sir. Opting to fight was the wrong decision. Without your intervention, we would have lost the battle."

"What makes you so certain?"

"My own observations during the fight. Both Specialist Sparkshower and Specialist Glamerspear have said so as well."

"I see. I take it there was some discussion that occurred upstairs, after we returned to the palace last night?"

'Some discussion' was a technically correct summary of, 'Sparkshower and Glamerspear yammered away at each other about the battle until the early hours of the morning.'

"There was, sir."

"Well, Corporal, I'm afraid I can't accept your apology..." The Royal Engineer put down his drink and stood up, facing her. Shrugging his shoulders, he casually slipped his hands into the pockets of his trousers. "... Because I don't understand what you're apologizing for. You won, just like you said you would. Where's the failure?"

It didn’t come as a surprise to her that the Royal Engineer would want to dig into the root of the matter.

"Sir, I made the decision to fight without taking into account the fact that Sparkshower had no experience in one-on-one aerial duels, or the fact that Glamerspear was not trained as a solo anti-air unit."

Anonymous stepped around from behind the couch and walked up in front of her. "When you made the decision, did you even know those facts, Corporal?"

"I did not, sir. I realized them only afterwards."

Her VIP shrugged his shoulders again and shook his head. "Then what are you apologizing for? You made a decision with incomplete information; it's only natural that the decision might have been wrong."

"As the leader of your bodyguard detail, sir, it's my job to know the abilities of the soldiers under my leadership. I failed you in that duty."

"You've known Glamerspear and Sparkshower a long time, then?"

"No, sir. We met just before Lieutenant Violetta presented us all to you."

Honour Bound’s mind drifted back to less than a week ago when this assignment started. It was just supposed to involve guarding a colt who sat in his office and did paperwork all day, not squaring off against Equestria's finest air duellists.

"That doesn't seem to me like very long at all, but if you think you should have known, then I'll accept your apology for that."

"I do, sir; thank you."

Anonymous nodded. "All right, then it's settled. Apology accepted."

Honour returned the gesture in thanks, and the Royal Engineer stepped away from her, over to the wall mirror beside the doors and leaned in to inspect himself. Brushing some crumbs off of his cuffs, he adjusted his cravat.

"I should apologize as well, Corporal Bound..." Satisfied with his appearance, he glanced over at her. "... Perhaps I made it seem like your choice was between fighting or handing over a hostage. But if you'd said 'no' to battle, my next question was going to be whether you thought Sparkshower would be safe. And if you'd answered 'no' once again, we would have simply turned around and come back..."

The Royal Engineer turned and looked over at the large lighthouse clock in the center of the room. Inside its glass bell, it was marking the time as a quarter after two.

"... I wasn't going to hoof over one pony for abuse, while trying to investigate another for corruption." He turned to face her once more. "... If I made you think otherwise, then I apologize, and shall endeavour to be clearer in the future."

"That's good to hear, sir. Thank you."

As he walked back toward the sofa, there was a quiet knock on the door behind her.

She turned and pulled open one of the doors just a crack. A colt dressed in an elegant red jacket and wearing a stern expression stood facing her on the other side. "Mister Mustang is here to see the Royal Engineer."

Honour nodded, and shut the door to address her VIP. "Sir? Mr. Mustang is here to see you."

Anonymous, halfway into sitting back down, stood up again. "Ah, good; please let him in."

Turning back to the door, Honour depressed the handles and allowed both doors to swing wide open. The same colt came walking in, accompanied by two mares and another colt, all wearing a matching set of uniforms that made them look like bellhops at a fancy hotel. But their heavy sabots and the soft clinking of metal bands sewn into their clothing made it clear they were the bodyguards of somepony very important.

Not unlike yesterday, she got the feeling like she’d just been ambushed by an imposing force.

‘Wait... 'Mr. Mustang?’

"Ah, Anonymous, it is good to see you again!"

"Mr. Mustang, it's been too long!"

The bodyguards parted to let in a large, well-dressed colt with a big moustache hanging under a large nose that supported a pair of pince-nez glasses.

"Come now, since you're our 'Royal Engineer,' I told you to call me 'JP.’"

The Royal Engineer walked up and bent over to casually shake the hoof of one of Equestria's richest citizens.

JP Mustang.

Financier, investor, property magnate, and more.

"Sorry, JP. Old habits die hard."

"They certainly do. But that's why you're here, after all: to kill off some old habits."

Anonymous smiled and beckoned towards the pair of club chairs set next to each other, and the two of them stepped away from the doorway. Without even looking in her direction, JP Mustang's escorts closed the doors and imposed themselves in front of and beside them. Honour was forced to take a position further off to one side.

"I prefer to think of it as introducing new ones, JP."

"Call it as you please, Anon. Either way it's an exciting prospect for the future."

Anonymous offered a glass of water to the pony who owned a sizable chunk of the whole country, pouring it himself from the carafe on one of the end tables. 'JP' took it with a smile, sat down in the left chair, before pulling out a cigar from a vest pocket and placing it in his mouth. As Anonymous sat down beside him, the financier started to fish around in his pocket for some matches, before stopping, embarrassed.

"Oh, I forgot; you asked me not to smoke in here, didn't you."

"I don't want to deny you your creature comforts, JP, but I'd appreciate it."

JP grinned with his teeth and batted a hoof in the air. "Ah, well, it tastes fine unlit, and anyways I'm just stopping in for a quick visit, so you won't be denying me for very long, ha-ha!"

His laugh was quick and brusque, more of a 'huh-huh' than a 'ha-ha.' Anonymous just smiled and leaned back in the chair, folding his hands.

"So, what business brings you to Canterlot this weekend?"

The colt chewed on the cigar a bit; holding it in his mouth made his Manehattan straight accent sound more like an Appleloosa drawl. "Business itself, that's all. There's deals to be made and papers to be signed that can't be done over in Manehattan. Sometimes you just have to go to the head of matters..." Leaning back, he pulled the cigar out of his mouth and licked his lips. "... But there is something I wanted to bring up with you. It's about Galloway Bitsmount."

He paused briefly, watching Anonymous' reaction. "... I understand you paid him a little visit yesterday."

The Royal Engineer unfolded his hands. "When I heard about the mine collapse, I decided to make an inspection, yes."

JP put the cigar back in his mouth. "Don't mince words with me, son. You did more than just inspect."

Honour’s VIP rubbed his hands together, his elbows on his knees. "Well, when I determined he wasn't following standards for safe mine operation, I served him with a warrant to show himself at Day Court."

There was a long pause.

JP Mustang turned the cigar over, moving it to the other side of his mouth.

Finally, he took a deep breath. "It is a real shame, you know. Risking pony lives trying to save some bits on timber. These young fellows sometimes..." JP Mustang closed his eyes and shook his head, leaning forward. "... They think money amounts to everything in life. But it is the loss of life that counts. It is that frightful death."

He opened his eyes.

Anonymous said nothing, so the colt settled back into his chair again. "... I'm not here to tell you he is innocent. But he is a friend of mine, and since you are, too, I'm here to ask you to give him a second chance."

Anonymous rubbed his chin. "JP, he's been treating the Equestrian Rescue 'Wonderbirds' as his private clean-up squad for so long, they considered stationing a permanent detachment in Bitsmount Town. And he could have gotten somepony killed with his bit-pinching."

The financier raised his eyebrows and pulled the cigar out of his mouth to point at Anonymous with it. "I know that. And he knows it, too," came his brusque reply. Replacing the cigar, he composed himself once more, and spoke evenly. "... Believe me, you got to him right and proper when you served him with that warrant. He wrote me a letter that sounded like he was going to burst into tears. So I'm not here to get him off the hook, Anon; I'm here to ask you to hoof over his correction to me."

JP put one hoof to his chest.

"... You know I don't care much for the public stage. Well, he's the same way, and I can appreciate what it means to him. If you can keep him out of the day court, then I'll make sure there's never another incident at Bitsmount Mine."

Anonymous sighed and shook his head. "I can't, JP. That warrant really did come directly from Her Majesty. If he doesn't show up, then she'll ask me if his mine is all right after all, and what will I tell Her Royal Majesty, then?"

The colt raised his eyebrows and his voice. "I'm not suggesting that you lie to Equestria's divine ruler, Anonymous. Go ahead and tell Her Royal Majesty that Bitsmount is a scoundrel. I'm just asking that you do it in private, rather than let him be dragged through the mud. Believe me, I am going to put some very tight reins on him for a long time. He'll be chomping at the bit."

The Royal Engineer gestured with his hands. "But it's not just about punishment, JP. It's about sending a message -- he's not the only mine-owner who was doing this, he's just the one who was doing it the most flagrantly. Putting his misdeed out there in public tells anypony else trying to trade safety for bits that they'll be facing real consequences. When we start getting steel production up, there are going to be hundreds of mines opening up across Equestria; hundreds of would-be Galloway Bitsmounts thinking about cutting corners in order to cut out their competition. We've got to stamp it early and hard."

Staring at the Royal Engineer, JP Mustang licked his lips and shifted his cigar around, chewing on it for a few tense moments.

"You're set on this, then, are you?"

Anonymous looked apologetic. "You know I owe you my position, JP. You're the reason I'm here doing this work. I can appreciate you wanting to do a favor for a friend, and I want to do you a favor as well, but I just think this has to be done."

The financier pulled the cigar out of his mouth and stared at it, turning it over in his hoof.

"Well..." Sighing, he put it back in and chewed on it some more. "... I suppose you are right. An example has to be made. I just wish it was somepony else."

Anonymous reached for his own water-glass and picked it up. "I'm sorry, JP. I want to help you out, but I can't betray Celestia's trust."

After the Royal Engineer took a sip of water, JP waves dismissively with one hoof. "Don't apologize for following your conscience, son. The first thing in business is character; before money or anything else. Celestia's not the only one who trusts you to do the right thing."

"Thank you, Mr. Mustang."

That regression to formality seemed to amuse the millionaire. "Oh, so now it's 'Mr. Mustang' again, hmm? Alright, I suppose it's deserved..." Slowly getting to his hooves, he nodded at his bodyguards, who instantly formed up and opened the doors for him. "... Well, as I said, I'm in Canterlot for some unrelated business, and just wanted to stop in quickly to say hello."

Anonymous stood up with him. "My doors are always open for you, JP."

JP Mustang smiled, and they shook once again. "Likewise, son."

Yawning, the financier headed for the door. "... Excuse me. It's been a long train ride from Manehattan, and I came to you straight from the station. I'll take my leave and let you get back to your work."

"Of course. It was my pleasure."

With a final nod, JP Mustang left the room, his escort preceding him.

After they'd left, Anonymous sits back down in his chair and puts one hand up to his chin. His visitors' hoofsteps echoed down the hallway as Honour quietly shut the double doors.

That was a strange encounter.

The Royal Engineer seemed to be deep in thought. Even though it seemed to end amiably, JP Mustang obviously did not get what he wanted. And saying 'no' to a millionaire could have consequences…

Finally, Anonymous snapped out of his reflections and got to his feet, so Honour spoke up.

"Sir?"

"Yes, Corporal?"

"Did you know that Mr. Mustang would be visiting you this afternoon?"

The Royal Engineer reached into his pocket and pulled out a small piece of white card-stock. "Yes, he had his calling-card sent to me just after you left for lunch."

‘So it wasn't just an ambush.’

"In the future, sir, you should apprise your guard detail of any such major visits."

"I should? Why, are you worried something might go wrong?"

"No, sir. Something did go wrong..."

Now she had his full attention.

"... You allowed yourself to be outnumbered."

Anonymous blinked, seeming confusedly amused by her suggestion. "Outnumbered? Corporal, it was a one-on-one conversation."

She wanted to express her frustration with his ignorance, but she kept her proper place. She was Anonymous' bodyguard, after all, not his fussy aunt. "I'm referring to his escort, sir. He brought four bodyguards to this meeting. You only had one. That's a breach of social contract."

Turning the calling card over in his hands, Anonymous furrowed his brow and looked it over, then glanced up at her. "Could you elaborate on that, Corporal? My knowledge of Equestrian social customs is limited."

That much was obvious. Since this was likely to come up repeatedly during her term of service, Honour decided to give him the big picture.

"The right to a retinue of bodyguards, and the size of that retinue, is tied to a pony's social standing. A VIP with fleeting fame or a minor accomplishment under their hat, like a champion of the games, a moderately successful artist, a general or war hero, or a wealthy patrician such as Mr. Bitsmount, is permitted to have one guard at a time. More notable VIPs are granted two or three; most members of the Court have at least three. Four at a time is the maximum escort size for anypony not wearing an actual crown..."

The Royal Engineer listened attentively as she lay it all out.

"... A pony may employ more than that number, of course, in order for their retinue to keep reasonable shifts, and they may have as many as they like serving in their own household, but when in public or with another member of society, those are the limits."

She nodded her head back at the door, glancing at it briefly before turning her eyes back to her VIP.

"... Mr. Mustang isn't a member of the Court, but he's wealthy and recognized enough to have earned the right to the full complement of four bodyguards, referred to as a 'quaternion.' But you're a member of the highest advisory court to the Crowns -- the privy council. Despite Mr. Mustang's accomplishments, you therefore outrank him in society, and it is considered improper for you two to meet except on equal terms, or with you holding the advantage."

Anonymous held up the calling-card. "But how would we know the size of his escort on a given day? There's nothing on this but his name and the requested time of the meeting."

She shrugged. "The exact number doesn't matter. The important thing is to show up with either your full retinue or at least as many as he could have. You may then dismiss your bodyguard detail, as desired, after he arrives. Lieutenant Violetta will be able to find out how many somepony is permitted; allocations are done in formal ceremonies and written records are kept by the Heralds of the College of Arms."

The Royal Engineer smiled at her. "All right, I understand. But then there's another problem: even if I'd called you all down here for the meeting, there are only three of you."

Honour tilted her head slightly. "Yes, sir, there are. Yet you should be eligible for four; even the guards' quarters upstairs are set up for a full quaternion."

She shrugged. "... To be honest, sir, I don't know why you were only allocated the three of us. Perhaps whoever made that decision didn't think you would be conducting private meetings with the elite of Equestrian society."

Anonymous sighed and walked over to a small card-cabinet beside his set of large bookshelves.

"Up until now, I suppose they would have been right. But that's all going to be changing with the first book entering publication."

This statement piqued her curiosity, and she craned her head to the left to follow him into his office-area. "Sir?"

The Royal Engineer quickly filed away Mr. Mustang’s calling-card, before leaning back to look over at her. "Oh, I thought you knew? Well, come over and I'll show you."

Stepping away from her post, Honour joined Anonymous at the angled reading-table in front of and perpendicular to his main bureau. He gestured at an enormous, cursive-script manuscript that sat open on the bureau, its bindings loose.

"... This is it, Corporal Bound: the first major step in bringing about an industrial revolution to Equestria, and the sum total of my accomplishments here so far."

At his invitation, she leaned forward and skimmed the text. It seemed to be describing something referred to as a "steam injector," with a number of mathematical formulae describing its properties. A diagram on the opposite page showed some kind of strange plumbing apparatus.

"I'm not sure what I'm looking at, sir."

Her VIP chuckled amiably. "Well, it's a lot easier if you start from the beginning..."

Standing next to her, the Royal Engineer delicately flipped back through a few hundred sheets of paper to get to the title page.

'SCIENCE & INDUSTRY, PART 1: THEORY'

"... I assure you, I've written the text such that anypony should be able to understand it if they really put their mind to the job. What you see before you is the handwritten manuscript I produced; the accepted final draft is at the publishers', being printed and duplicated. By summer, there'll be two dozen available at the Canterlot Royal Library for whoever wants them."

She looked up at Anonymous as he continued.

"... This is what I've been doing for the last eight months: writing down every single scrap I know about scientific and industrial advancements in my world. It was my business back where I come from, but there's gaps in what I can recall, and the theory alone isn't enough: we need to start building the devices described in these pages, validating the theories and establishing the rules of engineering for each of them."

Honour turned back to the book, feeling a little more reverence for its contents. The book was easily over a thousand pages long -- and they were large pages at that, with what must have been hundreds of diagrams accompanying considerable amounts of text.

"... So, yes, for the most part I've been secluded in these chambers, meeting with others only occasionally. It's only in the last month, going back and forth with the publishing house and dealing with edits and revisions that can take days to be prepared, that I've found the time to start socializing more. I suppose that was the impetus for assigning me an escort in the first place."

Anonymous turned around and stepped over to one of his bookshelves.

"... Here, it looks much nicer in the real binding." He reached down to an enormous tome and lay it on the reading desk beside the manuscript. "... This is last week's pre-production draft; there were only a few minor typesetting errors, which I've noted in the margins."

Printed on thicker paper and properly case-bound, with a stiff, elegantly decorated leather cover wrap, it didn't just look nicer, it looked even more impressive than the already mighty manuscript alone. And this was just part one? The librarians at the Royal Library must have balked at trying to find space for two dozen copies on their shelves.

"I had no idea, sir. It looks fascinating."

"Well, if you're interested, by all means take it with you at the end of your shift. Subject to a few rules for safety, everything in here is being published publicly for the benefit of all Equestrians, after all."

"Thank you, sir. I'd like to give it a try, at least..."

She reached up and opened the cover, seeing the same title-page inside, accompanied with a signed note from the Royal Engineer.

'Reviewed March 22. See corrections pp. 83, 201, 204, 232, 253, 297, 302, 382, 787, 858, 923, 933, 1063, 1064, 1172'

Closing it again, she looked back up at her VIP. "... And as for your social situation, sir, I'm sure if you asked Lieutenant Violetta for a full quaternion, pointing out today's meeting, then one will be provided for you."

The Royal Engineer shot a glance toward the lighthouse clock in the middle of the room. "Well, perhaps we might get the ball rolling immediately, then. It's not even three o'clock yet, and the Lieutenant told me she keeps office hours on Sundays until three-thirty."

"Yes, sir." Nodding, she made her way back over to the door.

After quickly checking himself in the mirror and finishing his glass of water, the Royal Engineer walked over. She opened the door, allowed him through, shut the door behind him, and then quickly trotted up so as to walk slightly in front of and to the side of her charge. As they both proceeded down the carpeted corridor toward the barracks, there was just one question on her mind:

‘Who will Lieutenant Vi assign as the fourth member of your quaternion?’

So far, Honour had a hyperactive war-hero unicorn anti-air cannon, an armored pegasus with plenty of skill but still a bit wet behind the ears, and herself: a veteran soldier who was feeling disenchanted with her career choice in the Royal Guard. But she had to admit that disenchantment had been seriously challenged by the last two days. It seemed she wouldn’t be protecting a paper-pushing bureaucrat after all.

Hopefully, the fourth member would have plenty of experience with formal society. Honour could really use somepony who could help discreetly guide her fish-out-of-water VIP through Equestrian customs. Right now it was really just Glamerspear and herself who understood Canterlot society. Sparkshower was a fast learner, but she just didn't know what was going on.

A soldier from a respectable Canterlot family, with good breeding and an effortless grace in public society; that's what Anonymous needed.

She would send a message to Lieutenant Violetta after her shift to make sure it happened. Then the next meeting with JP Mustang wouldn’t see her being metaphorically shoved aside by the tycoon's armored bellhops.

Chapter 20

George Zerofear

"After all that, he refused to do anything? Some help you were, you old goat!"

George Zerofear, bodyguard to Mr. J. P. Mustang was watching, along with three of his compatriots, as Galloway Bitsmount's lone escort sweated heavily. Probably because she was worried that Mr. Mustang was going to slap her idiot charge right in the muzzle.

After delivering his latest insult, the brash young wastrel turned around and crossed in front of Mr. Mustang's desk once more.

His boss just leaned back in his desk-chair, puffing calmly away at his cigar.

"... Well? Are you just going to sit there, JP? Or are you going to pull on the reigns of this 'friend' of yours?"

Slowly, Mr. Mustang pulled the cigar out of his mouth and gently rolled its tip against the inside edge of his ashtray.

"Your grandfather called me JP when I was a young colt, because my father financed the opening of his first shaft in Bitsmount..."

The charred end neatly popped off the end and slid into the curved base.

"... and your father called me JP when I financed the expansion that turned it into the most productive silver mine in Equestria..."

He replaced the cigar in his mouth, took a slow puff, then pulled it back out again.

George remembered how Mr. Mustang had instructed him in proper cigar etiquette, as he gave a box of his favorite brand to each of his bodyguards on Hearth's Warming Day. 'Pull it out of your mouth between puffs. If the cap becomes wet then it'll get bitter.'

Looking the younger colt right in the eye, Mr. Mustang made his pronouncement. "... You've done nothing."

That obviously wasn’t just an indictment of Galloway's business acumen. Everypony knew he spent all his time throwing wild parties at his villa. The scandalous photos from said events practically had their own section in 'Canterlot Match.' Galloway Bitsmount sneered like a wet cigar-cap, but he kept his gob shut.

Beside him, his bodyguard snuck a hoof up to wipe the sweat from her brow. She had a nice flank, though, and Galloway had her in a get-up that was like a cross between a pirate wench and a Prench maid's uniform. Really showed off her plot-lines.

Maybe if Mr. Mustang didn’t go ballistic on that upstart, he could take her out for a drink afterwards. He bet she had some stories to tell about his parties. Maybe she was even the partying type herself.

‘Heck, if Mr. Mustang does go ballistic and things go South, then she’d really need a shot of cider afterwards, heh.’

Finally, Bitsmount stopped his pacing in front of the financier's desk, grit his teeth, and tossed himself into a chair. Zerofear's Boss just sat silently, smoked his cigar as he waited for the younger colt to burn out his embers.

Galloway looked around the luxurious study in the Royal Suite of the Triumph Hotel, as if the paintings on the walls or the gold-trimmed book-cases were going to tell him what to do.

Maybe they did, because he caught his breath, licked his lips, and brushed one hoof through his mane. When he opened his mouth, he spoke slowly and respectfully, but his self-restraint was obviously being stretched to its limit.

"Mr. Mustang, I do apologize, but this 'Royal Engineer' is dragging my name through the mud!"

"You dragged it yourself, Galloway. He's just pointing out the tracks for everyone else."

‘Yowch.’ Talk about keeping a hoof-slap in your pocket.

George shot a glance over at Gustav, his drinking-buddy standing by the grandfather clock. He managed to sneak out a smirk to him.

Mr. Mustang put the cigar back in his mouth and opened the top-left drawer of his desk, revealing a card-file. "... But since you are a friend of my family, and since I still have investments in your mine, I'll tell you what you're gonna do..."

Pulling out a business card, he hoofed it over to Galloway Bitsmount. "... You're going to visit my lawyer, give him the writ, and hire him to represent you at Court. And while he's using every trick in his book to get you off the hook, you're going to go speak to the one pony in Equestria who can get you out of this, and convince them to help you."

Bitsmount scrunched up his face. "You want me to talk to Princess Celestia?"

Mr. Mustang arched his eyebrows and blinked. "Is that a joke, son? If you had the persuasive skills to sweet-talk Princess Celestia, then you probably wouldn't be in this mess in the first place."

Having learned his lesson from earlier, Galloway took the insult quietly, though he rolled his head and gnashed his teeth.

"... You're going to go talk to the Royal Engineer, of course."

That was too much for the young Bitsmount. "The Royal Engineer? Is that a joke? Why would he help me?"

Mr. Mustang took a puff and dismissively exhaled the smoke through his nostrils. "Because you're going to convince him that you're just an ignorant fool who wasn't paying attention to the goings-on at his mine, rather than a scoundrel who deliberately put his workponies in danger for his own profit."

Bitsmount flung one hoof in the air, dismissively, and spat out a sarcastic retort. "And how am I going to do that?"

His cigar finished, Zerofear's Boss put it out in the ashtray. Beside him, Bitsmount's battle-maid discreetly tugged down on where her uniform was riding up her plot a little too high for decency.

‘Did she catch me reading the inside of her dust-cover?’

"Maybe you've been spending too much time hosting parties up at your father's mansion, that you've forgotten how things worked around here..."

Placing his hooves together on the desk and leaning in for emphasis, J. P. Mustang seemed to loom over the smaller pony.

"... You made a mistake, but nopony died or even got seriously hurt. In today's Equestria, those sorts of mistakes get resolved with some mutual tears, a big group hug, and maybe a song about how sorry you are, how your eyes are open now, and how you won't do it ever again..."

Leaning back again, he put one hoof up to his moustache and brushed it softly. "... All you have to do is show contrition. The Royal Engineer wants to make an example out of you; well, a remorseful example is better than a defiant one. So, give him what he wants and you can get back to your banqueting and carousing."

Bitsmount growled. "Can't you just get rid of him? Didn't you help put that hairless monkey into this position?"

Mr. Mustang licked the inside of his lips, like he was still savoring the last cigar. He was probably considering lighting up another one.

"I helped, yes. But I can't get him kicked out now, even if I wanted to. Do you know why Princess Celestia made him Royal Engineer?"

Galloway gave a quick shake of his head, still sneering and staring at his financier as he gave a one word reply.

"No."

"That's because nopony does, outside of just the eight ponies and one 'hairless monkey' who sat down in the Blue Chamber almost nine months ago. And as much as I hear about what the Privy Council discusses, I've never had a satisfactory answer to that question."

Galloway Bitsmount sprung back to his hooves, rearing his forehooves up in the air in anger. "That's absurd! We raised some alien to a high position just like that, no questions asked?"

Despite the outburst, Zerofear’s boss remained calm and collected. Ducking over to one side, he opened a drawer and pulled out a fresh cigar, giving it a long sniff while Bitsmount just stood there like an idiot.

George glanced down at Galloway's guardsmare. She wasn’t sweating quite so much anymore.

But there was a rosy tint on her teal cheeks. He started to grin as his boss continued his lecture.

"Questions were asked. When Anonymous was first presented at Day Court, he gave a brief summary of what he'd like to bring to Equestria, seeing as how he found himself here with no way home. Princess Celestia asked him a few questions, and she must have liked what she heard, because she asked him to come back in a few days with a longer presentation for a formal assembly to judge."

Sitting upright, Zerofear’s boss dipped the cigar-cap in a small glass snifter of brandy to moisten it. "... He came back and impressed everypony, myself included. She'd asked me to come, since I make investments in the sort of things he was talking about."

Bending forward, Mr. Mustang put the head of his cigar in the end of a small, gold-plated guillotine on his desk, and pressed down to chop it off with a quiet 'snick'. "...Her Royal Majesty kept peppering him with questions, and you could tell he was a bit nervous, but he held up. Her Majesty asked me what I thought, and I said I was convinced enough to want to invest in him. So she asked him to take another week and come back with another presentation going into even more detail, but this time it would just be to herself, Princess Luna, and the rest of the Privy Council."

Bitsmount lay his forehooves on the desk, and bent forward. "She even dragged her sister out of bed for that ape?!"

Zerofear's Boss paid no attention to him and casually lit his cigar with a bulbous, marble-bodied table-lighter.

George wasn’t sure why Bitsmount even bothered asking that question. Whenever Princess Celestia asked Princess Luna to be present for something during day court, the exact same rumors would go flying around. The most common was that she was just trying to get Princess Luna more involved in the day-to-day workings of the Court, so that maybe Celestia could take a day off now and then. More conspiratorially, some suggested that she would ask her sister to read somepony's dreams and then act as a truth-sayer.The last was that she just wanted a second opinion, and she had deep trust in her sister. It didn’t matter what the situation was; it was the same three rumors every time.

But as far as anypony actually knew, it might as well be all three. The same rumors even set tongues wagging all the way over in Manehattan, where Mr. Mustang normally resided.

"They spent all day locked up in the Blue Chamber, in private without any guards. I know that Princess Celestia spent a lot of time asking questions, and Anonymous must have given Her Royal Majesty some good answers, because at the end of it they all came out proclaiming that a new seat would be added to the Blue Chamber, and that he would be Equestria's new Royal Engineer."

Bitsmount's guard glanced up at George and made the slightest bump motion from her hips, as if she was just adjusting her posture. But all it really did was jiggle her plot around. ‘Oh, this little paperback is giving me the naughty-eye, alright.’

Mr. Mustang pulled the cigar out of his mouth, blowing smoke up towards the ceiling. "... So, no. If I wanted him removed, which I don't particularly want at the moment, it would take quite a lot of work. Which means you've got to go to him, act respectful, apologize, beg his forgiveness, and take every scrap of advice he offers you like it's the very word of Her Majesty Herself."

Bitsmount turned around with a laugh, and started to pace in a circle around his chair. "Hah! Take his advice like I took it yesterday?"

Stopping behind his chair, he hooked his hooves on the back. "... That bastard 'suggested' that I avoid Newstirrup bridge on my way in to Canterlot today. So I had my driver take an extra hour and divert to Oldstirrup bridge, only to find what?" He flung one hoof to the side. "... Some bloody guardsponies had declared a 'Pas de Sabots' and were holding up anypony with noble credentials. So of course, I had to turn around again, and wasted another hour for my trouble. I think he did it on purpose, sending me to Oldstirrup bridge to get ambushed! Maybe he even had a deal going on with those guards to humiliate me even more!"

Behind the desk, Mr. Mustang was enjoying his second cigar of the evening far too much to give two clops about this 'Pas de Sabots' nonsense Galloway was spewing.

‘Heh, and speaking of clop...’ Zerofear took a moment to enjoy the sight of Galloway's bodyguard once more.

"I don't know what that was about, Galloway, but I suggest you put it behind you. You asked for my help, and I've done what I can for now."

Bitsmount nodded his head sarcastically. "And what a fat lot of good it does me. Well, thanks 'Mr. Mustang', but from over here it sure looks like I'm on my own for this one." Still in a snit, he turned around and made for the door.

With his cigar back in his mouth, J. P. Mustang called out after him. "Don't do anything foolish, Galloway, or you'll just make things worse for yourself. Get a lawyer and do what they tell you to -- it'll be the same things I just said."

Bitsmount just waved a hoof dismissively as he stormed George’s way. Instantly, he pushed open one of the double-doors while Galloway’s own guardsmare opened the other. The wealthy young spendthrift just brushed straight past them and made for the coat-rack and hat-stand by the entry doors.

As the two of them went to follow after him, she leaned over and whispered. "I get off at ten."

Straight to the point; he liked that. Names could always come later. With a smile on his face, he whispered back. "Servant's entrance at ten-fifteen."

She gave a flirtatious smile and then trotted off to escort her employer back to his own suite, leaving George to close the doors behind them.

It was always a good time when Mr. Mustang traveled to Canterlot. The mares around here really did run loose in their tack.

Chapter 21

Artemis Sparkshower

Lily Glamerspear let out a groan. "Ugh, I hate Monday reveille..."

It was indeed a Monday, and mare alive, could Corporal Bound, Specialist Glamerspear, and Specialist Sparkshower really use the regular kind of shower.

"... And who exactly gave Staff Sergeant the idea that we should do the morning PPT hike in battle armor?"

Returning to their quarters from a break-of-dawn Pony Physical Training hike up Canterlot's winding mountain paths, Glamerspear had been vocally venting her frustration. There was nothing really to be done, though. If sarge says hike up the mountain on hoof and in armor, you hike up the mountain on hoof and in armor. Artemis didn't mind, as long as it wasn't what they did for every reveille.

Breaking from her complaints, Glamerspear made a request. "... Can I go in first? I've got to get ready to go on duty in half an hour."

Nopony objected, so Glamerspear made a break for the washroom. She already had half of her equipment telekinetically pulled off before she even got there. Meanwhile, the Corporal and remaining Specialist headed for their respective bedrooms to pull off their sweaty armor. Sitting in her room, Artemis barely had her greaves and croupiere off when there was a loud knock at the main door.

As Artemis was poking her head out of her own room, she saw Corporal Bound step out into the common area, already fully disrobed.

"Come in!"

At her Corporal’s invitation, the door swung open, but before the unidentified caller stepped in, Artemis heard them speak in a quiet voice. "Wait out here a moment, Sergeant; let me make sure they're presentable."

With that, Lieutenant Temper Violetta strolled in and shut the door behind her.

Sparkshower was the first to make the call. "Attention!"

As she threw her hoof up in a salute, Corporal Bound stopped and did the same.

"At ease, gentlemares. Where's Specialist Glamerspear?"

From the washroom, the hissing noise from the shower stopped. The brief silence was soon replaced by the low 'shuuuu-WOOM!' of Lily executing a WC-40 cleaning & drying maneuver.

Before Lieutenant Violetta could even turn her head toward the bathroom door, Glamerspear was already pushing it open, her armor pieces floating beside her.

"Ugh, and now I've gotta get these clean bef--Attention!" When she realized the Lieutenant was standing in the room, she snapped to her hooves as well.

"At ease, Specialist. All of you, fall in here at the entrance..."

Glamerspear shot Sparkshower a concerned look, but all she could do was shrug her armored shoulders as she fell into line.

Lieutenant Vi wore her usual stern stare as they all formed up into a sort of receiving line next to the door, and she addressed the three of them in an unusually quiet voice. "... Now, gentlemares, I don't want to hear any complaints about this. I'll have you know that these orders come straight from the top; if you don't like them, you can take them up with the Joint Chiefs. Understood?"

To Artemis’ right, Glamerspear looked completely lost. Past her, Corporal Bound's eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly. But both of them stayed silent.

‘Well, if nopony’s going to say anything, then I will.’

"Ma'am? Pardon me, but what are you talking about?"

Violetta fixed Artemis in her stare. "You'll find out in a moment, Specialist. Just know that I don't like it any more than you do, but I have my orders, and now you do too, understood?"

With some hesitation, all three of them gave quiet 'Yes, ma'ams'.

"Good..."

Then she raised her voice loud enough that whoever was outside ought to be able to hear her.

"... Come in, Sergeant."

Suggested background music: Justin Bell - 'Kyros', from 'Tyranny' [2016]
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ABl0KW3CI30

Although they were all supposed to be staring straight forward, none of them could resist watching the door on their right swing inward as it opened.

A shadow seemed to fall over the room, as the light from the hall was drowned out by the pony standing in the doorway.

Glamerspear barely stifled a gasp.

When Artemis realized what she was looking at, there was a clunking noise from in front of her as her jaw dropped open so wide, it smacked into the lower piece of her bascinet helmet. Into their common-room stepped a tall mare with a violet coat so dark it almost looked black. Her pale, two-tone lavender mane was back-combed and brushed upright, standing tall above her head in an almost zebra-esque fashion. Underneath it, two purple eyes with vertical-slit pupils stood out against the shadow, and a pair of leathery wings sat folded against her flanks.

A batpony!

"... Gentlemares, let me present to you the fourth member of Lord Anonymous' bodyguard detail." As the dark creature stepped up in front of their line, Lieutenant Violetta indicated her with a hoof. "... Sergeant First Class Ebonshield... of the Equestrian Night Guard."

There was a long moment while the three of them beheld the Sergeant in silent stillness, and she likewise regarded them, her thin pupils jumping left and right as she looked them over.

At last, the Sergeant stiffened her back and joined the others in parade rest. The three of them likewise held themselves steady.

Seconds passed, until Lieutenant Violetta noisily cleared her throat. "Ahem. Sergeant, let me introduce you to the rest of the quaternion..."

"... Specialist Sparkshower, 19D Armored Scout..."

Artemis started to lift her hoof in order to shake the Sergeant's, but she remained completely still, even as she had it stretched out before her, so she hesitantly lowered it again. Sergeant Ebonshield just stared at her for a few seconds, until Lieutenant Vi decided to continue on.

The Lieutenant pointed at Glamerspear. "... Specialist Glamerspear, 14E Air Defense..."

Glamerspear didn’t make the mistake of trying to shake hooves. But she did have all of her sweaty armor pieces floating in the air just behind her, which earned her a strange look from the new Sergeant.

Finally, Violetta stepped over to Honour. "... And Corporal Bound, 11B Infantry."

This time, Sergeant Ebonshield did something other than stare almost menacingly from a few hooves away. Stepping forward, she got right up in front of Corporal Bound's face before proceeding with an icy stare.

Artemis’ Corporal didn’t seem intimidated even in the slightest, and held steady.

Lieutenant Vi's eyes darted worriedly between the two non-commissioned officers as she continued. "... Corporal Bound, although Sergeant First Class Ebonshield outranks you, you'll be in charge of the quaternion until the Sergeant has completed the VIP Service training program."

Corporal Bound didn’t flinch, answering the lieutenant with the Sergeant's muzzle still almost touching her own. "Yes, ma'am."

Her lack of reaction seemed to amuse the batpony, and there was the hint of a grin as she opened her mouth. "Caporal, are you comfortable with the giving of orders to a superior?"

Sergeant Ebonshield's mature voice was low and dusky, with a steady pitch and a feline purr. There was a strong and unfamiliar accent as well. It was almost Gryphonese in the way that it rolled the 'r's.

"Yes, Sergeant."

“Good. I would not wish for you to feel uncomfortable."

The slurring of the 'y' into a 'j' wasn’t like anything Artemis had ever heard before.

With that, Ebonshield took a step back.

Violetta looked exhausted already. "All right, then, gentlemares, carry on. Sergeant, take a few minutes to stow your gear and make yourself presentable to the Royal Engineer, and then when Glamerspear goes on duty I'll take you downstairs to present you to your charge. Now that there's four of you, I'll have to draw up a new duty calendar."

The Sergeant nodded, and stepped back into the hallway to grab her duffel bag. Nopony lifted a hoof as she dragged it to the last empty bedroom and shut the door behind her.

Corporal Bound shot a telling glance at the Lieutenant, who instantly shut Honour down in a quiet voice. "Don't say a word, Corporal. I heard what you said yesterday about the Royal Engineer needing somepony to guide him through Canterlot society, and I noted it in the request form, but I don't get to pick the soldiers, I just get to command them."

Honour licked her lips. "She hasn't even been trained for VIP service?"

"No, and I was overruled when I made the same objection after seeing her file. Somepony on the night shift must have gone through the personnel-requisition box in the evening and got this taken up to the very top. If you ask me, she's here because the Joint Chiefs are pushing for tighter integration between the two services, and that means 'diversity hire.'"

The Corporal looked like she was about to say something else, but Lieutenant Vi just shook her head. "... Whatever you want to say, save it for later. I'm going to wait in the hallway. Send her and Glamerspear out when they're ready to go downstairs."

As she left the room, Honour grumbled and shook her head, before heading into the washroom to take her shower.

Glamerspear stepped over to the pegasus, telekinetically using a towel to wipe off her armor pieces, and whispered as they both stared at Sergeant Ebonshield's bedroom door. "A batpony! Can you believe this, Sparkshower! They're sticking us with a blood-sucking batpony!"

‘Wait, what?’

"Blood-sucking?"

Her comrade leaned in further and whispered even more loudly. "Don't tell me you haven't heard the stories! I tell you, you'd better wear your criniere to bed if you don't want to wake up with two holes in your neck and blood trail leading back to the new Sergeant's room!"

Artemis had never met a batpony before today, but those old campfire stories couldn't be true, could they? Glamerspear certainly seemed to be treating them as though they were.

"... Come on, didn't you see her fangs?"

Actually, Artemis had pointedly not seen fangs, and she knew that for sure because she’d been looking for them the moment the sergeant opened her mouth.

"She doesn't have fangs, Glamerspear, I saw her teeth."

She just brushed off Artemis’ denial. "Yeah, well, I've heard they're just regular teeth during the day, but at night when it's time for them to feast on pony blood, they grow twice as long!"

Artemis had to admit that sounded spooky, but plausible.

"... And you saw how she didn't want to shake hooves! It's because she didn't want us to notice that hers have the cold touch of the grave!"

That seemed... less likely.

"... Just wait until you hear her shrieking at night; they say it's shrill enough to curdle milk and piercing enough to shatter glass!

Okay, now that was just unreasonable.

"Isn't there a detachment of the Night Guard here in Canterlot? Wouldn't ponies be complaining about that if it were true?"

Having finished wiping off most of her armor, Glamerspear lowered her helmet and strapped it on. "It's because they keep them holed up in the caves all day, since they're all afraid of the sun..."

Artemis scrunched up her face in disbelief.

"... Don't tell me you didn't see her dark coat and pale mane, at least! Well, that's what happens when you spend your life in the darkness, isn't it?"

As Glamerspear continued to suit up, Artemis considered the bundle of old nag's tales Glamerspear was sharing with her. Maybe some of it was true, but surely not all of it.

"... I bet you she's in there right now, staring dumbfounded at her lack of reflection in the dressing-table mirror."

"That's ridiculous, Lily, command wouldn't--"

As soon as she said her first name, Glamerspear hissed her quiet. "Shhhhh! Don't call me that! First names are how they cast their wicked, mind-affecting spells! Are you trying to get me turned into a batspawn zombie?"

Seriously, now, did she believe every single story about batponies that was ever told? Artemis knew them too, but she didn't believe them. Well, some of them, anyways; clearly Glamerspear was familiar with a larger repertoire. But one of those fables was certainly false: they weren't supposed to cast shadows.

"The Sergeant did cast a shadow, though."

"Of course she did! I'm half-surprised the creatures of the night didn't come crawling in with her! Check your bed for creepy-crawlies before bedtime; I know I will."

It looked like there was just no stopping Hurricane Glam right now. Artemis decided she was better off dropping the subject for the moment.

As she finished suiting up, the fourth bedroom door opened and Sergeant Ebonshield emerged. Beside the pegasus, Glamerspear tensed up, but somehow this entrance wasn’t as shocking to Artemis as the first.

The sergeant still cut an imposing figure, especially now that she was armored. A dark black helmet covered her head, with her crested hairstyle emerging through a raised slot above it. Her chest was covered by a dull, black pectoral piece that wrapped around to guard her flanks. It was reminiscent of the light armour of the Air Superiority ponies they’d fought two days ago, but obviously darkened for stealthier use at night. More interestingly, she wore sabots that had paired strips of blackened metal running up the sides of her legs.

‘Are those... blades?’

Artemis would have to find out later, because Ebonshield immediately walked right up to them, her gaze focused on Glamerspear. "Are you ready, Specialist? I do not wish to keep the Great Lord Engineer waiting."

"Yes, Sergeant, I'm ready."

"Then let us be off."

Glamerspear nodded and trotted off towards the door, holding it open for Sergeant Ebonshield. Outside, Artemis could hear Lieutenant Violetta joining them as they all headed downstairs.

Artemis was left alone in the common-room, and there was just one thought on her mind:

When was Corporal Bound going to be done in the shower so she could wash all this sweat-foam off of herself?

Chapter 22

Lily Glamerspear

So help her Celestia, if that blood-sucking abomination placed even one hoof wrong, Specialist Glamerspear was going to do to her what she did to Valiant Kilfeather two days ago. Even if she mana-burned so hard that the effort made her vomit, gave her seizures, and put her into a coma, it would be worth it to reduce her to a fine purée...

... or ash. Did batponies turn to ash when they were killed?

She’d soon be finding out!

Gritting her teeth, Lily wished she could have her shield up and a magazine of telekinetic spears ready to fly. But Lieutenant Violetta was walking with them, and she expected Lily to play nice with the beast. Friends with a mutant creature of the night; yeah, right!

And 'Sergeant' Ebonshield was just walking casually alongside them, as if she had every right to parade her filth around Canterlot Palace. Well, she was about to get a rude awakening. If Anonymous’ ability to serve as her spotter during the duel with Kilfeather was any indication, the Royal Engineer of Equestria had a keen eye. He'd pierce through that civilized facade she wore and see the beast within.

Then she'd be kicked out of the quaternion. And straight into a dungeon cell.

Secure in the knowledge that the foul creature beside her would be banished in short order, Lily’s angry stare mollified into more of a smug eyeballing.

Reaching the Royal Engineer's chamber door, Temper Violetta paused for a moment to make sure Lily and the 'Sergeant' were still with her, then reached up and knocked.

"Come in."

Pushing open the door, the lieutenant didn’t instruct the batpony to wait outside this time. "Good morning, sir. I'm here with a 'delivery,' of sorts."

"Oh, good morning, Lieutenant Violetta."

Focused on the 'Sergeant,' Lily only barely registered that Anonymous was sitting in one of the club chairs, reading the newspaper while facing the door. She barely even looked in his direction as she gave a salute and took up position beside the door.

"Specialist Glamerspear reporting for duty, sir!"

Anonymous nodded in her direction. "Good morning, Specialist."

Sergeant Ebonshield walked in past her.

‘Perfect, her back's exposed.’

Lily made sure to position herself so as to keep Anonymous out of the line of fire. But Lieutenant Vi walked behind Ebonshield, meaning that if her fire over-penetrated, she could get hit.

Eh, she's wearing armour.If Lily had to frag Ebonshield with Violetta standing there, she'd be fine.

"Sir, in response to your request yesterday for a full quaternion escort, I have the pleasure to inform you that your request has been granted."

Anonymous folded the paper under his arm and got to his feet. "Really? Goodness, that was quick, Lieutenant."

Putting one hoof to her chest, Temper Vi took the undeserved compliment with pompous dignity. "Well, sir, in the Royal Guard, we do aim for efficiency and efficacy..."

Lily internally eye rolled. Yeah, she wasn’t so worried about accidentally hitting the Lieutenant now.

"... And allow me to introduce the fourth member of your retinue: Sergeant First Class Ebonshield, a batpony of the Equestrian Night Guard."

The target of Lily’s rage, and her nearly-summoned telekinetic projectiles, stepped up to her VIP and didn’t even give him the honor of a bow.

‘So, she's not just rude to fellow soldiers!’

"Great Lord, from the deepest shadow to the brightest star, by your will alone I set my blood in motion."

‘An oath sworn on blood. Well, that just bucking seals the deal, doesn’t it?’

Perhaps delaying his inevitable dismissal of that vile fiend in order to learn more about her, Anonymous merely gave a nod of acknowledgement. "Please excuse my ignorance, Sergeant, but I don't believe I've met any ponies of your kind before."

‘Yeah, and after we get rid of this one, you hopefully won't see any of them again.’

"Sí, Great Lord, that is doubtless because there are only a few hundred of us here in Canterlot, and we generally keep to our rookery under the mountain, at least during the day."

Lily wanted to gasp, but it was stifled by blind rage.

‘A NEST OF VAMPIRES! RIGHT HERE IN CANTERLOT!!’

Oh, she was going to need every Anti-Air unicorn from her old battery in order to clean them out.

With a slight smile on his face, Anonymous looked expectantly over at Lieutenant Vi. "I see... Well, Lieutenant?"

"Sir?"

Lily’s commanding officer just looked confused, which seemed to disappoint the Royal Engineer. "Don't you have something interesting to say about the Sergeant's past service, as you did with the others?"

The Lieutenant licked her lips uncomfortably. "Ah... I'm afraid not, sir. Unfortunately, I received only a very thin file about Sergeant Ebonshield. No doubt in the haste to fill the position, her previous commanding officer in the Night Guard accidentally misplaced some of her paperwork."

Before she could go on, the batpony scum interrupted her. "I doubt that, Lieutenant. We do not keep the paperwork of that kind. However, it was determined that '18B Special Weapons Sergeant' and 'Sergeant First Class' were the closest equivalent Royal Guard service identifier and rank for my position in the Night Guard…

Turning to the Royal Engineer, she concluded. "... Great Lord, I apologize profoundly for the failure to supply your majordomo with that information, rendering her unable to properly introduce your newest servant."

With her accent, 'majordomo' sounded more like 'mayordomo', but that's not really what struck Glamerspear the most. The revelation that the Night Guard didn't use standard service identifiers or ranks, and worse, didn't keep well-regimented files on their soldiers, seemed to shock the lieutenant to her core, and she just stood there, dumbfounded. Lily had never seen her so off-balance.

But Anonymous still wore an amiable smile. "Well, perhaps you could simply introduce yourself, Sergeant. I'm curious as to the name of your position in the Night Guard?"

It seemed he was going to draw this one out all the way.

‘Come on, come on, let's just get to the batpony-slaying already!’

"Great Lord, I have the unparallelled honour of entering your service as a Seventh Rank of the School of the Shining Stellar Dance, or 'Stellar Seven' for short."

‘Wow, talk about an over-embellished title.’

It sounded like the kind of thing a pony dreamed up when they wanted to say they've been studying war since the day they were born. Lily could just picture Ebonshield monologuing before their fight.

'While you were still suckling at your mother's teat, I studied the blade.'

'While you were learning pathetic unicorn magic, I mastered flight.'

'While you were courting salt-licks, I cultivated inner strength.'

Yadda-yadda. The sense of smug emanating from her 'Stellar Seven' title just had Lily aching ever harder to shove a dozen telekinetic spears into her neck.

On the other hoof, it looked like the Royal Engineer was keeping his cool. "That's a very impressive-sounding title, Sergeant. Out of curiosity, how many ranks are there in that school?"

"There are seven, Great Lord, as in all such schools. Only the Master, Draxon, sits above the ranks as the eighth."

"Indeed? It sounds like we could have used your help earlier, on Sunday..."

No, wait, he's not just keeping his cool… He's slow-playing her! Pumping her for all the information about batponies that the Royal Guard would need to wipe them out -- all of them!

Clever.

Anonymous turned to face Lily. "... And speaking of Sunday, by the way, Specialist, our friend Lieutenant Kilfeather has made today's papers."

Amplified by her thirst for battle, she grinned heartily. "Oh really, sir? I imagine it's an interview from the Canterlot Hospital Intensive Cuddle Unit."

"I'm afraid not. Apparently, after you, the Corporal, and Specialist Sparkshower brushed aside their 'Pas de Sabots' at Newstirrup bridge, the First Canterlot Air Superiority Wing took it upon themselves to set up downriver at Oldstirrup bridge, instead."

Forgetting her rage at the abomination standing before her, Lily’s thoughts turned to the bucking bastard from two days ago, and her blood instantly boiled over.

"WHAT?!"

Lieutenant Vi shot her a horrified glare for her uncivilized outburst. But her lapse in manners didn't seem to faze the Royal Engineer at all. He merely unfolded the paper and held it up to read. "Oh, yes, it's all here in this article.”

'HEROIC LIEUTENANT BINDS WINGS AND REMOVES ARMOUR TO LEVEL PLAYING FIELD IN PAS DE SABOTS OF OLDSTIRRUP BRIDGE'.

“...Apparently, he's passing off his injuries and missing armour as chivalric charity."

Brushing aside the Tartarean Sergeant, Lily marched up to her VIP, who gladly handed the paper into her waiting telekinetic embrace. As she scanned the article, growing more furious by the word, Lieutenant Violetta turned to Anonymous.

"A 'Pas de Sabots,' sir? There hasn't been one of those in over a hundred years."

"One hundred and thirty-seven years, according to Lieutenant Kilfeather. But I assure you, he did set up at Newstirrup bridge and accost us on Sunday morning. I might not have minded except that he demanded Specialist Sparkshower in hostage as his price for crossing the bridge."

"A hostage?!” In her surprise, Lieutenant Violetta’s wings began to spread before she recomposed herself, folding them back in tight. “That's unbelievable, sir. The 1st Canterlot Air Superiority wing is one of the most decorated units in the Royal Guard."

"I assure you it's completely true. Answering their challenge to me, Corporal Bound proposed three individual duels, and I'm proud to say your soldiers carried the day. In fact, despite their use of an 'MXP Games Totem' to keep the fighting safe, the Lieutenant was rather savagely thrashed by Specialist Glamerspear."

Keeping it enveloped in her telekinetic aura, Lily folded the newspaper and moved it out of the way. "You can say that again, sir! I even took the mangled helmet off his shattered corpse as a trophy!"

She turned to her superior. "... Lieutenant, ma'am, you can't let them get away with this! As if demanding Sparkshower as a hostage wasn't bad enough, even if they got approval for a 'Pas de Sabots' at Newstirrup bridge, there's no way they got approval to just pack up and move downriver if they happened to get beaten!"

Her commanding officer, still uncertain about this whole situation, looked uncomfortable with the prospect of investigating the matter.

‘Well, she'd better suck it up, or else Lord Anonymous will know how to cause a real scandal!’

"I'll... have to bring this up with the Captain, I suppose. And then it'll have to go up from there to whoever authorized it."

"According to Kilfeather himself, it was Major-General Hoofstrong."

That was another shock to her.

Major-General Georgia Hoofstrong commanded the entire First Air Division, which had squadrons covering the central region of Equestria: Cloudsdale, Canterlot, Ponyville, and the rest. Over 10,000 pegasus soldiers served under her in the defense of ponykind.

The Lieutenant balked at the idea of confronting one of the nation's most distinguished commanders. "The Major-General authorized it? Digging into this could take some doing, then..."

The Royal Engineer gave a slight shrug. "Well, there's no rush, Lieutenant. Perhaps it doesn't even really matter, but based on his ongoing successes at Oldstirrup bridge, I'm sure you'll find that there will shortly be a number of irate nobleponies who will be very eager to hear that they were the subject of an unauthorized hastilude."

Oh, right. The nobles. Lieutenant Violetta went pale when she realized that punishing Lieutenant Kilfeather may involve humbling the Royal Guard before the landed gentry of Equestria. 'Icepone' deserved every inch of punishment that could come to him, but Lily had to admit that she didn't want to see the Guard's reputation tarnished just to satisfy a bunch of wealthy, idle nobleponies.

‘Ugh... Val's played his cards well with this one.’

Lily retired back to her firing position by the doorway.

"I'll... look into it, sir. With due caution."

"As I said, Lieutenant, there's no hurry. In the meantime, you have my thanks for swiftly filling out the ranks of my escort so that I don't make any more social gaffes..."

The Royal Engineer turned to Lily with a smile on his face. "... And speaking of social gaffes, Specialist Glamerspear, I've received word that my new athletic ensembles are ready to pick up from the tailors this morning."

‘So he did take my advice. Nice.’

‘Now it's time to address the blood-sucking, bat-winged, undead elephant in the room.’

Lieutenant Temper Violetta piped up. "Well, sir, if you have no need for the Sergeant or myself at the moment, then we shall take our leave."

"Certainly, Lieutenant. Thank you for the introduction. I look forward to receiving your service, Sergeant."

‘What?! No batpony-slaying?’

As Violetta and Ebonshield made for the door, Anonymous suddenly interrupted them. "... Oh, actually, there was one thing..."

‘Yesssssssss…’

They turned away from her to face the Royal Engineer once more, and Lily warmed up a special delivery for 'Sergeant Ebonshield.'

"... I wonder if you happened to be free this morning, Sergeant? Perhaps you'd care to tag along as a second escort, and give me a second opinion on my new couture?"

‘WHAT.’

‘THE.’

‘BUCK.’

Suggested interlude music: Wojciech Kilar - "Vampire Hunters", from "Bram Stoker's Dracula" [1992]
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BCQ14aLKC88

Chapter 23

Lily Glamerspear

Specialist Lily Glamerspear literally could not believe what she was seeing right then. Instead of purging the unclean and ordering her to kill the vile, mutant batpony that stood before her, Anonymous, Royal Engineer to the Twin Princesses, had done practically the exact opposite.

He'd invited the beast to come clothing-shopping with him.

And the violet monster smiled back at him! "If the Great Lord wishes this, I am bound to follow them into Tartarus itself."

Her purple VIP laughed in response. "Hah, I've heard about 'dying for fashion', but I don't think we need to go that far for a decent wardrobe."

‘Wait, purple VIP?’

‘Anonymous isn't supposed to be purple.’

Squeezing her eyes shut to clear them had no effect; when Lily opened them again, he still looked purple to her. Blinking repeatedly, she looked out the window. The sky was purple, and the clouds were purple too.

She turned back to the room before her. Everything and everyone had a purple tint.

‘I’m manaburning!’

That was the only explanation that fit, although it still didn’t make much sense. As eager as Lily had been for a fight, she hadn't done more than keep her horn at an elevated standby level. And the modest trickle of mana that required shouldn't be doing that to her.

While she pondered the problem, Lily had a passing awareness of Lieutenant Violetta giving a salute and heading toward the door. Without thinking, Lily straightened up and pulled it open for her, rendering a detached salute as her Lieutenant departed the room. Meanwhile, Anonymous headed behind the partition wall that divided off his bed and dressing area, and Lily heard him shut the door to his washroom.

As the door closed, Sergeant Ebonshield looked over in Lily’s direction. And the instant she did, Lily felt her blood boil over again. The bat was going to try to do something monstrous now that the Lieutenant was gone, she was sure of it!

The urge to strike first was almost overwhelming. But if Lily really was manaburning, then she had to shut everything down, or else things would get much worse for her. She’d just have to take a chance that the batpony didn’t recognize her weakness. Reluctantly, Lily relinquished her grasp on the arcane flows. Like a sledgehammer to her brain after a late night drinking binge, she was instantly struck by a throbbing headache.

Oh yes, she was definitely manaburning, all right.

And now she was suffering withdrawal. The pain was so intense that she couldn’t help but let out a quiet moan, putting one hoof up to her brow and wiping away the sweat that had already started to form.

"Are you unwell, Specialist Glamerspear?"

‘Buck, she noticed!’

‘Act casual.’

"I'm fine, Sergeant."

Ebonshield didn’t seem to buy it, as she walked right up to her, putting her face right in front of Lily’s, just as she’d done with Corporal Bound. It’s like she was a foal trying to get a reaction out of a pony on Silent and Still guard duty at the palace gates.

"If you are unwell, I can accompany the Great Lord to retrieve his clothes alone."

As if! Instead of lying to her again, Lily decided to try turning the tables. "Why do you keep calling him 'Great Lord'? Nopony else calls him that."

Sergeant bloodsucker blinked her eyes and withdrew her head slightly. "The Royal Engineer sits on the greatest council of Lords in Equestria. Does that not make him a Great Lord? Or have I been misinformed?"

Wow, she just had no clue about how society worked these days. Well, that's what you get for sleeping in a coffin for hundreds of years. If Lily couldn’t lay the smackdown with magical spears, she might as well drop some knowledge bombs on her instead.

"You're right, but nopony uses the term 'Great Lord' any more. Even referring to him as 'Lord' is stretching etiquette in the modern era. Ponies in positional lordships like his are addressed by their job title, like Chancellor or Royal Engineer, not their noble rank. Or you can just say 'sir' or 'ma'am'."

"I see..."

Lily’s eyes went wide as she watched the vampire bow her head to her.

What the buck! What kind of Sergeant First Class bows to a Specialist?!

"... Thank you for correcting me on the Equestrian customs current, Specialist Glamerspear."

Corporal Bound was right! Not only was this vile creature of the night lacking in the essential training of how to handle Very Important Ponies, she didn't have a clue about how to behave in polite society! It was going to take everything Lily had to keep her from embarrassing the three of them once they stepped outside the castle.

As Ebonshield took up a position flanking the other side of the door, Lily found herself overcome with anxiety over what should just be a simple visit to a shop in town. What if she said something appalling to one of the other guards on the way there? What if she did that weird get-right-up-in-your-muzzle-to-talk-to-you thing to somepony not under orders to just stand there and take it, and a fight broke out?

What kind of scandal would she cause just walking outside amidst the public! Lily vividly pictured terrified Canterlot citizens fleeing in panic before their group. Buck, what if she tripped up in front of everypony in the tailor shop and they kicked Anonymous out before he could even get his stuff?

‘Wait…’

A minute ago she wanted to turn the bat into a bloody smear on the carpet.

Now she was desperately worried about social gaffes?

What was going on with her mood swings today?

Taking a deep breath, Lily shut her eyes. She recalled the symptoms of acute mana poisoning, in order of severity, as they were drilled into her:

Blurred vision, purple haze, exhaustion, headaches, emotional instability, nausea & vomiting, seizures, coma, and finally, sudden death.

'Emotional instability!’

Even though her horn had been cold for a full minute now, Lily was still manaburning. Today she’d done little more than levitate a few things and maintain high magical readiness for half an hour. Yesterday, she barely used any magic at all, although she remembered drawing on a steady trickle to help with a general feeling of exhaustion.

Two days ago, of course, there was the massive over expenditure during the fight with Kilfeather. But that was supposed to have been abated by the MXP Games totem. Then again, unicorns usually didn't go so far overboard with magic during the Games. Maybe its protective effects didn’t work on mana poisoning?

Behind the partition wall, Lily heard Anonymous' washroom door open again. It wouldn’t be long now until he was ready to go. Lily racked her brain trying to figure things out.

And then it hit her. After the ceremony when she'd been inducted into the Order of the Ram, Lily remembered chatting up a colt with a cute jawline at the reception, one who had been a hero of the Games. He described taking what should have been a fatal blow during a match, and then having a constant, dull pain for days afterwards. As if instead of receiving one deadly blow, he'd received hundreds of merely painful ones, spread out over time.

Did the totems just... draw out an injury, instead of suppressing it? So instead of seizures, coma, or death, Lily was just going to have to deal with the lesser symptoms for a few days?

Symptoms that were made worse whenever she used her magic. Ugh.

The throbbing in her head kicked into high gear, as if to confirm her thoughts. In the span of an hour, she’d had a roller-coaster of excessive fear, paranoia, hatred, and anxiety. At least now that she was aware of the problem, maybe she could deal with it.

"Well, I'm ready to go. How about the two of you?" The Royal Engineer stepped out from behind the partition, now fully dressed and ready for the public.

"Your escort is assembled, Great Lord."

So much for Sergeant Fang-Tooth over there taking Lily’s advice.

"I hope it's appropriate for me to have asked you to join us, Sergeant. I must admit, I'm still not entirely used to the idea of having retainers at my beck and call like this."

"It is the privilege granted to your Lordship, sir."

Oh, so now she uses the correct term? Whatever.

But her answer didn't seem to be quite sufficient, and Anonymous looked expectantly in Lily’s direction. "Specialist? I'd appreciate some more of your candor."

That got her a strange glance from the Sergeant, which Lily ignored. She took a moment to collect herself, and for once, there was no overriding emotion imposing itself on her thoughts.

"Sir, most of the time, one or two of us will be scheduled to be on standby duty upstairs, waiting for your call. Otherwise, we're never more than half an hour away, occupied with other light duties..." She shrugged. "... To be perfectly honest, sir, if you're going out into the city, you'd often be doing us a favor calling upstairs for the rest of your escort. Speaking for myself, I'd rather be out working with my VIP, than idling back at the palace."

Crossing over to pick up his hat and walking-stick from the rack by the door, Anonymous seemed pleased by her answer. "Really? Now you have me curious to find out what the others think. But for now, I think two escorts should be enough. Let's go."

With that, the Specialist and the Sergeant both pulled open the doors and headed out.

Once they got out into the city, Lily was still able to hold it together, but only barely. The moment of emotional calm as she’d left the Royal Engineer's chambers had been all too brief. The feeling had started creeping up as she was walking the halls of the palace itself. With Anonymous in tow and Sergeant Ebonshield beside her, she’d felt them.

Eyes. Eyes all over her.

Ordinarily Lily enjoyed being the center of attention, but this wasn't like that at all. These were judging, questioning, cruel eyes. Every side hallway seemed to have a group of guards eyeballing her, whispering dark things amongst themselves.

It wasn't true, she told herself. It was just the manaburn blow-back screwing with her mental state. But actively trying to disbelieve what her own, sick mind was trying to tell her could only get her so far. Worse still, knowing that the paranoia she was experiencing was just a symptom of an illness made her want to take up the Sergeant's offer and report to medical. And that just fueled delusions of dire consequences for her career if she did so, or for her VIP if she left him alone with the vampiric creature.

Exiting the palace had brought a merciful end to the side corridors and random groups of guards, and, therefore, a gradual relaxation from the feeling of being watched. It was still early enough in the day that only a few ponies were out and about in the streets of Canterlot. Those who were generally had their muzzles to the ground, more interested in getting to where they needed to be than to paying attention to a unicorn, batpony, and tall, hairless monkey making their way to Canterlot's fashion district, Poole Street.

Still, being in public brought its own emotional horrors. Instead of the madness of being watched by everypony, she had to deal with the terror of being spotted. Visions danced in Lily’s head of just one or two of those citizens lifting their heads for just a moment and crying out once they noticed her group.

Ruckus, rabble, and embarrassment followed. It made her want to kick her heels and burst into a gallop. But it also made her want to slink in the shadows, hug the walls, and glance nervously around every corner before turning it. The conflicting pulls made her headache even worse, but they were a bit easier to ignore that way.

Finally, they’d made it to the store; Bridle Path Clothiers, in Poole Street.

Despite the presence of a monster in their group, the salespony had been unflappably obsequious, welcoming Anonymous back like a dear friend. "Ah, Sir Anonymous, it is most excellent to see you again! I hope you will be able to spare a moment for a glimpse at our latest fashions this morning?" And so on and so on, paying absolutely no attention to Specialist Glamerspear or Sergeant Ebonshield. They were treating her like most VIPs treated their guardsponies, to be honest.

But in her current state of mind, that suited her just fine, and soon enough the Royal Engineer was in the change-room with a few, neat bundles of freshly-tailored clothes. In the reserved, quiet confines of a colt's clothing shop, Lily found some tranquil relief from the mana poisoning that had been driving her crazy this morning. The two salesponies on duty busied themselves with adjusting displays and re-arranging clothes, one of them softly humming to himself as he worked.

The windows were full of displays and decorations that gave dignified privacy to the mirrored fitting area. The musk of old wood and strong, coltish cologne mixed together to form a comfortable, reassuring aroma. Even Sergeant Ebonshield seemed thoroughly unthreatening at the moment.

Feeling able to relax, Lily took the liberty of hopping up onto one of the guest sofas.

‘Deep breaths. It'll all be over soon.’

Lily could get through today, and she could get through tomorrow, and she could get through as many days as it took for all of it to wear off. And then maybe, having consciously experienced the whole 'magical overload' thing from end-to-end, even if spread out by the totem's power, she could bring herself to actually wear her Centurion's badge.

That would be nice.

As Lily found herself reaching a zenith of calm and blissful optimism for the future, the Royal Engineer emerged from the change-room. Instead of his black three-piece suit, he was wearing a pair of white trousers with a colorful pair of red stripes on the sides that continued up into a white, long-sleeved T-shirt. It was a considerable upgrade from the ratty, grey jogging clothes he claimed to have arrived in.

"Well, how's this for cool-weather wear?"

Turning his back to Lily, Anonymous stood before the mirrors and looked himself over, adopting a few simple poses to check the fit.

It was a good fit.

A very good fit.

A very, very good fit.

Lily had to snap herself out of it when the Royal Engineer looked over his shoulder at her, and she realized she’d been staring at his plot the whole time.

"Uh, looks good, sir. Much more fashionable than what you had before."

"Excellent! Sergeant, any comments?"

Sergeant Ebonshield said something, but it just went in one ear and out the other, as Lily was back to gawking at her VIP. His new pants tightly wrapped around the shapely contour of his buttocks; every time he moved to adopt a new pose, she could see his taut cheeks flex and sway.

Like he was wearing nothing at all.

It was hypnotic.

Even his shirt hugged the form of his body, and Lily could make out the ripples of muscle around his broad shoulders and in the small of his back. When he turned to face her, she could make out a firm but flat chest that undulated as he took deep breaths.

Wow.

Her admiration for this upright hairless monkey's physical form was briefly interrupted when he donned a hooked pullover handed to him by the salespony. For colder weather, apparently. After pulling it on adjusting it properly, she got another, fantastic view of his plot as he did a little jogging in place to feel how it all fit together.

"I don't know, it almost feels like it ought to be let out a bit."

"NO!"

‘Buck, did I just say that out loud?’

Lily resisted the urge to slap an embarrassed hoof to her face. Anonymous lifted an eyebrow and turned around to look at her, and even the Sergeant narrowed her dark eyes slightly.

"... It looks great as it is, sir. Baggy clothes are extremely unfashionable."

There was nothing for it but to continue as if she were being sincere.

Rather than making her foalish attraction obvious.

The salespony nodded and spoke something in agreement with her, but Lily barely paid any attention. Struggling to regain control, she tried to look at something, anything else -- the other clothes on the racks, the salespony, the Sergeant a few paces away. But with Anonymous standing in the fitting area, even the slightest motion he made was mirrored six times over, and it was impossible to keep her eyes from snapping over to his movement.

‘Unf, you could bounce quarter-bit coins off of that plot of his…’

Lily started to feel sweaty and disoriented again, like when she first realized what was going on. Mercifully, just as the heat started to get unmanageably intense, the Royal Engineer headed back into the change-room. However, the removal of the visual stimulus didn’t grant her much of a reprieve from the 'emotional instability' ride.

If anything, it made it worse. Because her imagination took what she saw, and went wild.

At first, it started tame, with just the Royal Engineer jogging along in that incredibly well-fitted outfit, and Lily galloping by his side. But it was warm out, and she was panting. Beside her, the hairless ape with the fantastic plot was breathing heavily as well, his forehead glistening with sweat. With whatever magical ability he had that let him keep going for so long, she soon found herself falling behind, unable to go on. She stopped, lowering her head to the ground, her neck and chest covered in foamy sweat.

That's when she felt powerful arms wrap around her barrel. 'Come with me, Lily', he said, even though they were not on a first-name basis. With an enthusiastic, masculine grunt, the alien colt brusquely lifted her up and put her over his shoulder, as if she were just a sack of oats to him.

Sitting in the sofa in the coltswear store, she could almost feel Anonymous' hands supporting her croup and plot. She tried shifting her posture in the seat, but it didn't change anything; those nimble fingers of his were dangerously close to some very sensitive places, and she could have sworn she could make out every single one of them on her, even though the only thing beneath her in reality was just plushly-upholstered furniture.

Then her imaginary Anonymous resumed his jog, slowly at first, and then more vigorously, until she could feel herself bobbing up and down, riding on his broad shoulders. Closing her eyes, Lily put a hoof up to her forehead.

‘This isn't real, dammit! You're just sitting on a couch in a clothing store!’

She was most assuredly not being carried away on the shoulders of a tall, strong, sweaty beast with a plot that just wouldn’t quit.

‘Unf… No, wait!’

Even if she was there, at best, the Royal Engineer was just helpfully getting her back to the palace. He’d put her down once she’d had a chance to catch her breath. It wasn’t like he was going to jog right up the steps to the patio behind his office to sneak her back into the palace with him where nopony would see them together. And even if he did do that, it would just be because it was the fastest way inside.

BACK inside! The PALACE!

It wasn’t like he was going to passionately pull her off of his shoulder, kiss her deeply, lay her down on his bed, and-

‘No, no, no, dammit, stop going there!’

Just then, the Royal Engineer -- the real one, not her foalish, manaburn-fever-dream-induced colt -- emerged from the change-room once more, and her heart skipped a beat. Dressed in what the appallingly excellent tailors at the Bridle Path Clothiers had determined would be appropriate hot-weather exercise wear, Anonymous' second outfit left almost nothing to the imagination. A halter shirt exposed every inch of the broad, well-muscled shoulders of her dream. Tight, stretchy shorts exposed even more of his strong, firm hips and plot. And a large, ample bulge at the front sent her delusion roaring back into the foreground.

Now she was on his bed, muzzle down, plot up. She bit her lip in reality as his illusory fingers spread themselves across her flanks, running through the short hair of her sides and belly. He was bent over forward, his taut abdomen pressing against her back. His hot breath brushed against her neck as he nibbled playfully at her ears. She heard herself moan, and it took every ounce of concentration she had left not to make that part of the fantasy a reality. His left hand slowly slipped back, and instinctively, she felt herself lifting her tail to let him in.

"Now this is something, isn't it?"

Opening her eyes to reality again, the real Royal Engineer was admiring himself in the mirrors, pleased with the way he looked.

Lily found herself gulping for air in the brief reprieve that was afforded to her. Over on her left, Sergeant Ebonshield had either become aware of her incapacity for rational thought right now, or decided to simply speak her mind first.

"This outfit is most fetching, sir. I think that the Great Lord will turn many heads exercising in this."

"I didn't really have that effect in mind, but it's certainly very comfortable."

Anonymous began to pose again in the mirrors, performing a few squats, thrusts, and lunges, as the conversation drowned out in a blur. She was back in bed with him, and this time there was no question of innuendo or foreplay. One hand gripped her shoulder, and the other her hip, as her fantasy-colt passionately gave her the most indescribably orgasmic pounding of her life. Lily’s breath caught in her throat, both in reality and in the fantasy, as he continued inexhaustibly, sweat dripping from his chest onto her back.

On the sofa, she bit her lower lip, as on the bed, he lowered his lips and kissed her neck. Over on the fitting-room podium, the Royal Engineer said something to the salespony, but in bed she could only hear him moan and grunt with coltish passion. She felt him stop inside of her, in all the way to his hilt, and his hands squeezed her firmly. Unable to contain the figment any longer, she closed her eyes in ecstasy.

But at the very moment when he squeezed her tightly and achieved his blissful release, something snapped Lily back to reality.

"And would sir like to be fitted for his Gala suit this morning? Our availability is filling up quickly."

Her eyes snapped open and the reverie disappeared in a flash.

The Gala!

The Grand Galloping Gala!

The Royal Engineer would be invited to the Gala, and that meant she might be able to go with him!

Bucking awesome!

Chapter 24

Lily Glamerspear

By the grace of Celestia, Specialist Glamerspear had managed to avoid making an embarrassing, hot mess on the customer sofa in that fancy Canterlot coltswear store. Or, maybe, not so much by the grace of Celestia herself as by the fantastic prospect of being able to attend Her Majesty's biggest party in the world.

"Gala? What Gala?"

Unfortunately, it appeared that her VIP was sadly ignorant about that aspect of Equestrian culture.

With a genteel grace, the salescolt clued him in. "The Grand Galloping Gala, sir. The most important event in the Canterlot society season."

"Oh, really? I haven't received any invitation, however."

Bowing his head slightly, the salespony gave a small smile. "As a member of the Blue Chamber, sir will doubtlessly be invited. Her Majesty Princess Celestia issues the tickets personally, and ponies started to receive them a week ago. Invitations to members of the Court are often sent last, due to the nearness of the delivery."

"I see. And I take it that my everyday outfit is insufficiently ostentatious?"

The salespony cleared his throat. "Ahem. As the premier Season event, I would say that it is not, sir."

"What do you suggest?"

Pulling a white puffed shirt off the rack, the colt drew out its arm to show the style.

"Ruffles are considered very stylish this year, sir."

‘Ugh, ruffles.’

"Sure, if you want to look like an old nag." That one, Lily did mean to say out loud. It still got her a look from the Royal Engineer, and a pair of pursed lips accompanied by a raised eyebrow from the salescolt.

Time to make good on her interjection.

Lily hopped off the sofa and trotted over to the small platform where her VIP was still standing before the mirrors. And still dressed in that extremely revealing, skimpy outfit of his. But she’d managed to overcome her most recent magically induced mood swing, so it didn’t bother her anymore.

"... The Grand Galloping Gala isn't just a party, sir; it's the party. It starts early in the afternoon and goes all night."

She pointed a hoof at her Very Important Pony for emphasis. "... Dressing up for the Gala is dressing up for all Equestria to see you. There'll be mares there with hats taller than you stand, or trains dragging behind them like they're getting married. Colts dress to the nines, too, with all styles and colors depending on their race, background, and profession. And a few ponies who can afford it even change dress halfway through so that they can show off twice!"

Looking in the mirror, she tried to visualize the kinds of clothes that would suit her hairless monkey.

It wasn’t easy.

"... Dignitaries from other nations get invited as well -- griffons, minotaurs, dragons, and more -- and they all put their best hoof, foot, or paw forwards too. I've never been, but the press publishes thousands of photos each year. So, you need a look that projects who you are and what you represent to the rest of the world."

She started to think of something, but then mentally put it on hold when she remembered what the Gala evening held.

"... And there's lots of dancing, too. You do dance, don't you, sir?"

Anonymous faced her reflection in the mirror. "I haven't since I arrived, but I was known to dabble in it previously."

"Well, then, you'll want something you can dance in comfortably." Lily’s vision for Anon started to form again. "... Your normal dress is neutral and matte, which is fine for looking respectable, but doesn't attract attention like a proper Gala suit should. You need bolder colors or shinier clothes, or maybe both."

Leaning back, she shot a glance at the salespony. "... Could you bring out some fabric swatches?"

He nodded, and walked towards the counter.

"Hold on..."

Everypony looked up, and the Royal Engineer seemed deep in thought.

"... Shiny, bold, suitable for dancing, and projects what I represent... A White-Tie full dress."

Anonymous gestured at the salespony, who quickly pulled out a quill and pad.

"... An evening tailcoat, non-closing, in black worsted barathea wool with matching pleated trousers cut for a high waistline, to be held up with shoulder suspenders. Black silk lapel facings, with a boutonnière-hole on the left side and stem holder behind. Three ornamental black buttons on each breast, four on each sleeve, and two at the back, in the same material. Lapel-less waistcoat in white piqué, cut to line up with the tailcoat while covering the trousers waistband. Three buttonholes for three black studs. Stiff-front shirt in the same fabric with removable collar, and trouser tabs to fasten it to the waistband. Buttonholes for mother-of-pearl studs. White bow tie in the same fabric, with Prench cuffs. Patent leather lace-up shoes, whole cut, with inner quilting for comfort while dancing. Black silk socks. Two pairs of white kidskin gloves, to be accessorized with my red Royal Engineer's sash beneath the tailcoat for some color. In case there's any confusion, I'll send over some sketches of the ensemble by the end of the day."

The salespony scribbled enthusiastically as Anonymous rattled off his list.

He detailed an outfit that sounded like it could work with such confidence that Lily was actually a little impressed.

'A colt with a firm idea of fashion? That's kind of hot.'

Previous unintentional speculatory sofa session notwithstanding. Behind her, even Sergeant Ebonshield seemed surprised, blurting out a soft "Hunh!"

This didn’t go unnoticed by her VIP, however.

"Something on your mind, Sergeant?"

The dark pony of the night instantly bowed her head. "I apologize, Great Lord. I did not mean to interrupt."

Waving his hand, Anonymous beckoned her back up. "No, no, by all means, Sergeant, if you've something to say about the proposal, then please speak up. As I've previously told your comrades such as Specialist Glamerspear here, I'm not familiar with Equestrian society, so I appreciate any candid feedback."

‘As if a batpony is going to know anything about society!’

For once, Ebonshield seemed flustered, and it took her a moment to reply. "Great Lord, I simply find the occurrence is so very rare when a colt can take the advice of his mare, but still make up his own mind. I find this quite refreshing."

Apparently, she shared Lily’s opinion on this. Batpony mares must have the same problems with their colts as regular-pony mares do. Wait, are there even batpony colts? Or do they just go around stealing regular-pony colts?

‘Hold on…’

'His mare'...?!

‘Does she think Anonymous and I are... ?’

"Ah, my thanks. Now, perhaps, I'll dress for the street once more, eh?"

Receiving a sincere nod of agreement from the salescolt, he headed into the change-room. Leaving Lily alone with Ebonshield, the salespony hustled over to the main counter and began to discuss his notes with his coworker.

Lily eyeballed the batpony and approached her. "I'm not the Royal Engineer's marefriend, Sarge."

Ebonshield lifted an eyebrow. "No? You could have fooled me..."

She turned and glanced back at the sofa.

‘Foal of a bitch, she noticed!’

There was no evidence of her misadventure, though. Taking that last uncomfortable step forwards as she did, the Sergeant looked her in the eyes with their noses almost touching.

"... But if you are not, then who is?"

‘Really? She had to get all in my muzzle just for that question?’

Lily could not be bothered to step back to regain some personal space, and with a look of disgust, she shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know. Nopony, I suppose."

"I see."

There was something really weird about the way she said that. Lily couldn’t figure out what, though, and, after a moment's pause where neither of them said anything, Ebonshield turned away from her and started to look around the store, leaving the unicorn confused. If Anonymous wanted a marefriend, he just had to get out there and get one. And if Sergeant Ebonshield wanted to hit on him, well, that was her prerogative. She'd be disappointed, though.

Lily watched as the batpony prowled around the store like a fox in a chicken coop.

After this latest demonstration, it was clear that Lily's VIP was far too clever for Ebonshield's Tartarean machinations. And if she tried anything, well, she’d be there to put her down, sure, but Lily got the feeling that Anonymous could handle her all by himself. Hopefully, when he dismissed her after this excursion, Sparkshower and Bound wouldn’t have any trouble with her, either.

Filled with confidence, there was just one question on her mind. In their new schedule, who would Lieutenant Violetta put on duty on the day of the Gala?

And if it wasn’t her, how would she get her hooves on that posting?

Artemis Sparkshower

Specialist Sparkshower was feeling a little confused about everything right now. Glamerspear and Lieutenant Violetta had gone downstairs to introduce the new Sergeant, the batpony Ebonshield, but they'd been gone for over an hour.

Do introductions really take that long?

Did something bad happen?

Or maybe nothing was wrong, and Artemis' new Sergeant just had somewhere else to go afterwards.

Whatever the case, Corporal Bound had stormed off to the library with a large book, saying she didn't want to wait any longer for Ebonshield to get back. Her frustration with their new team member was obvious, which was surprising. Artemis had barely known her for a week, but she could tell that the Corporal didn’t normally wear her heart on her sleeve. So, for her to so publicly broadcast her annoyance must have meant she was really upset.

And she wasn't the only one. Glamerspear had thrown out every single batpony legend and rumor, and it really seemed like she believed them, in spite of any evidence to the contrary. On the one hoof, Artemis thought she took prejudice too far. They’d only just met one of their kind for the first time, after all.

But on the other hoof… she had to admit she was a little concerned, too.

There were a lot of stories told about the strange, nocturnal pony creatures, and most of them were pretty horrible. What if even a few of them were real? And anyways, what was any good Royal Guardspony supposed to think? Nopony had said anything about batponies. They had just sort of appeared, shortly after Princess Luna's return.

The official word from Command was that if you didn't already know about batponies, then you weren't supposed to ask. And if you did know, then you weren't supposed to tell. When it came to the Night Guard, the only things that any regular working pony in the Guard could be sure of were the things they didn't do:

They didn't train with the Royal Guard.

They didn't conduct joint missions.

They didn't sleep in the barracks.

And they certainly didn't eat in the mess hall.

Despite supposedly serving Equestria just as the Royal Guard did, the Night Guard were a completely separate army. There was a whole detachment of them right there in Canterlot, but until today, Artemis could have counted the number of batponies she’d ever seen on two hooves. So, two, in other words. And those were just glimpses during a large ceremony. Probably nopony else in the crowd even noticed them besides her. Heck, at the time, Artemis wasn’t even sure that she’d seen actual bat-ponies. Only now, after having gotten a good, close-up look at one, could she be certain.

But there was nothing else to be done at the moment. It was a big mystery, and it was going to stay a mystery for the time being. And so, she’d been sitting on the sofa in the common area of their four-bedroom guard quarters, churning things over in her head, too concerned to just relax and read a magazine or book, but none the less frustrated for the absence of information.

It was like... getting a glimpse of an army, but then being held at bay by an invisible force field, unable to go deeper to get a look at the main force. All she could do was report back that she saw the enemy, while being unable to provide anything better than wild-guess estimates.

She was in the middle of another, fruitless round of going over the evidence in her head when the door opened. Sergeant Ebonshield of the Night Guard, the object of most of Artemis’ current thoughts, walked into the room.

"Ah, the Specialista Sparkshower, you are here. Where is the Caporal Bound, if you please?"

Artemis took a moment to more closely scrutinize her accent. Most obviously, she rolled every 'r.' She also put stress on almost every syllable, making words that should be short too long, and sharply clipping others down when they should trail off. Her 'if' also sounded more like 'eef.' It's not something she’d ever heard before, although it reminded her vaguely of a griffon accent.

"She went to the library, Sergeant."

Remembering that it was only Corporal Bound who insisted on informality in their quarters, Artemis got to her hooves and stood in parade rest. She did refrain from calling the room to ‘at ease,’ though. Mostly because it was just her and Ebonshield in the room.

"That is most inconvenient. But perhaps you can help me instead."

'Inconvenient' came out more like 'inconbenient," and she overemphasized the 'h' in 'help.'

Artemis watched her carefully as she walked over to her bedroom door, and pushed it open.

"... You have something that I want, Specialista."

'Something?'

‘Ulp… ‘

‘Maybe some of the legends were true.’

Looking at the batpony in her room, Artemis saw her pull off her sabots; they still had those strange blades running up the sides of them.

"... Although I outrank you, since I am not in charge of this quaternion, I cannot order you to give this thing to me."

Her weapons removed, she pulled off her helmet and armor as well. It was then that Artemis realized she had a cutie mark. She had completely failed to notice it, earlier. If batponies had cutie marks, then they couldn't be all bad, could they? The image on her flank was a black heater shield surrounded by a pale white glow. As she tried and failed to make out any other features in the dark design, Ebonshield brushed her tall, pale mane and then returned to the common area, stepping right up in front of her.

Sergeant Ebonshield brought her muzzle close enough to Sparkshower's that they almost touched, just as she did with Corporal Bound.

She was awfully close. How quickly could she just lean over, extend her fangs -- assuming that she actually had fangs -- and dig into her neck?

Would it even be worth struggling?

Maybe she just needed a quick sip?

"... So you understand that you are under no obligation..."

‘Oh, phew.’ That was a stormcloud off her back.

"... but I will consider myself in your debt if you agree."

‘Uh…’

‘Is... is blood some kind of currency among bat-ponies?’ Just how much was drinking from Artemis’ arteries worth to her? A few bits like at the blood bank, or...? Wait, what if the batponies RUN the blood bank? She felt herself start to slip into Glamerspear's paranoia, and decided she needed to ground herself.

"Er, just to be clear, Sergeant, what are we talking about, exactly?"

Without withdrawing even an inch, so that she could feel every breath of the batpony's words on her face, Ebonshield smiled and replied. "I wish to hear about the fight your quaternion got into at Newstirrup Bridge. I understand that a 'Lieutenant Kilfeather' was involved?"

‘OH!’

‘Ohhhhhhhh!’

‘Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.’

"Oh! Of course, Sergeant, I can tell you about that. It's not a secret or anything."

"Thank you, Specialista."

With a smile, she gave Artemis a bow, which she found herself hesitantly returning. The Sergeant backed away from her and took a seat in the chair, and Artemis likewise did the same on the couch before launching into a full account of the battle -- starting with the encounter in the dining hall the day before.

All through it, Artemis couldn’t quite get away from the questions that were bothering her before the bat pony walked back in. She wasn’t quite sure if she’d really busted any myths just now.

But she certainly didn't confirm any.

That was a decent first step, at least.

Chapter 25

Artemis Sparkshower

Specialist Artemis Sparkshower was having a grand old time with her new comrade, Sergeant Ebonshield. Barring a quick break to go grab some lunch, they had spent the past few hours swapping stories about life in the Guard.

Well, not so much 'swapping,' really.

More like, 'Artemis tells every one of her stories.'

The batpony didn’t share any stories of her own; Artemis didn’t ask her to. 'Don't Ask, Don't Tell' was the rule, after all. It was a shame, though, because the pegasus was sure that she must have some good ones. Ebonshield was an older mare, at least in her 30s, and she did admit that she'd been a soldier all her life.

In spite of her silence, it didn’t feel like the Sergeant was really holding back the conversation, because she was still engaged in it. Ebonshield congratulated Artemis for her successes, laughed along with the funny moments, and expressed sympathy for the times when things got tough. And, though she didn’t venture into her own history, she provided some good advice and had a few interesting questions about Equestrian society. She did still occasionally lean in awfully close, though, which could be unsettling. But Artemis had such a good time sharing that it went right through the regular lunch hour, and it was only once they were both feeling a bit worn out that Artemis went to grab a quick bite.

Alone, unfortunately. Ebonshield declined her invitation to the barracks dining room, saying she had some private arrangements in the palace. It wasn’t really a surprise. Artemis could just imagine the stir she would cause walking into the mess hall.

Still, it was a disappointment.

Back in their quarters after a late lunch, Ebonshield was nowhere to be found. Maybe her lunch ran late, or maybe she had another appointment in the afternoon, though she hadn't mentioned anything like that.

Part of Artemis still wondered if her 'private arrangements' for lunch were more... sanguine... than anything the Royal Guard kitchen could serve up. It was not that the hours of pleasant conversation hadn't convinced Artemis that Ebonshield was a friendly pony who could be a cordial participant in a polite conversation. They had!

But still, the mysteries surrounding her race were still there, and so the questions lingered around half-answered, like unconfirmed scouting reports. Without anypony to talk to about it, Artemis found herself slipping back into the same, semi-frustrated, semi-confused, slightly-afraid fugue state as in the morning.

It was a quarter past three when Corporal Bound finally returned from the library to get ready for her shift. Trotting in with a huge book slung over her back, she gave Artemis little more than a polite nod as she walked towards her door.

"Sparkshower."

"Hello, Corporal! How did your reading go?"

As she passed the pegasus behind the sofa, Artemis could see that Corporal Bound’s eyes had a sort of glazed-over look, like somepony hitting the books hard to study for an exam.

"It went."

Gosh, that was a brisk wind just now. She decided to try and clear the clouds to let some sunshine in.

"I had a good, long talk with Sergeant Ebonshield this morning..."

Corporal Bound's eyes didn’t perk up, although she did stop and turn to face the pegasus.

"... She was asking questions about the Royal Engineer, the things we'd done, the Battle of Newstirrup Bridge, that sort of stuff. Then we got more into my own stories, I guess."

Honour Bound just eyed her with that tired, detached stare of hers. It was actually not far from what Sergeant Ebonshield did when she was first introduced, Artemis had to admit.

Maybe a little news would perk her up?

"... Oh! Did you hear that Lieutenant Kilfeather and his squadron packed up and moved their 'Pas de Sabots' to Oldstirrup bridge after we beat them?"

Still nothing. It was starting to feel a bit awkward there, like one pegasus struggling against a whole hurricane.

Artemis forced an awkward smile. "... What a piece of work, huh?"

Corporal Bound stared at her for a good long time.

Then, at last, she sighed. "I'm not really surprised, Specialist. Colts like him don't know how to take a 'no' or accept a loss when they don't have to. Glamerspear was right; Icepone didn't get to be the top Air Superiority Fighter in Equestria without being dangerous."

"Yeah..."

She picked up her shoulders and continued to her room, but there was still something else nagging at Artemis’ mind.

"... So, what do you think of our new team-member?"

Honour stopped where she was, continuing to stare at her door. "You don't want to know what I think of her, Sparkshower..." Still stopped, the Corporal looked over her shoulder at the specialist. "... Especially not if you've been hitting it off with her all day."

The Corporal couldn't possibly believe the same awful stories about batponies that Glamerspear did, could she? Most of that stuff was just rumours and myths, she was sure of it. And wasn't Honour supposed to be the sensible, level-headed leader of their group?

Furrowing her brow, Artemis gave a little confused wave of her head. "I don't understand, Corporal. What's wrong?"

Sighing again, she put down her book and walked back over to the sofa. "Did she tell you why she was here, Sparkshower?"

She shook her head. "She didn't talk about herself very much."

Honour curled part of her mouth up into a scowl. "I figured. Same DADT crap."

The Royal Guard's policy on batponies was frustrating, to be sure. What time Artemis hadn't spent hiking up the mountain in the morning or chatting with the new Sergeant during the day, she’d spent trying to piece together the answers to unanswerable questions about batponies. But that didn't make her dislike Ebonshield. So why was the Corporal so upset?

Clearing her throat and sighing again, Honour stepped over to her. "... I don't like the Sergeant because it's politics that got her assigned to this squad."

‘What?’ Surely the Sergeant didn't have any family in the Guard who could have landed her a (relatively) cushy job like VIP service.

"I'm not sure I follow you, Corporal."

"Listen, Sparkshower, have you ever heard of a Night Guard serving in a Royal Guard squad, or vice versa?"

"No. I don't think we even conduct joint operations with them."

"That's right, we don't. And can you imagine a batpony being assigned as a VIP bodyguard for anypony other than an alien visitor to our world? Somepony who never grew up to fear Nightmare Moon, or who looked worriedly up at the sky on Nightmare Night? Somepony who never heard hushed stories around a campfire or in a tavern about horrible bat-winged creatures coming to snatch away good ponies in the darkness?"

She made a good point. The Royal Engineer took Sergeant Ebonshield with him to a coltswear store to see his new sports outfit. It was one of the few stories she’d shared with her. Artemis simply couldn’t imagine any normal kind of Very Important Pony who actually was a pony wanting anything to do with her kind. Most of them would be just as horrified as Glamerspear was, or as shocked as Artemis had been, and would probably dismiss her immediately.

Only Anonymous, ignorant of the prejudice against her race, would treat her like he did any other kind of pony. And from what she’d seen, he was a courteous and friendly colt. It was little wonder that Sergeant Ebonshield said she thought he was very pleasant, and admitted she was happy to have him as her VIP.

Corporal Bound circled a hoof up in the air. "You see what I'm saying, don't you, Specialist? Somepony up in Command wants to make the first moves to integrate the Royal Guard and the Night Guard. And when they see that the Royal Engineer needs a fourth member for his quaternion, they jump at the chance to put their plan into motion. They don't think that maybe an alien new to our world could use somepony with social experience. They ignore the note I asked Lieutenant Violetta to put in the requisition form on that very topic. And they don't consider the impact that an alien creature walking around with a batpony is going to have on everypony else. Anonymous meets with big names in society: members of the Court, wealthy financiers like JP Mustang, even Galloway Bitsmount is a known name."

Lowering her hoof, the Corporal shook her head. "... They don't even bother to arrange any kind of official introductions or joint training so that we can actually get to know each other. Instead, it's 'Don't Ask Don't Tell' as usual, and they just throw Ebonshield in here, without her even having completed the VIP-service training."

Honour leaned in close, almost whispering in Artemis’ ear. "... It's bullshit, Sparkshower. And a VIP like the Royal Engineer deserves better than to be the victim of a political experiment."

The swear word was a shock. Honour really was upset about this.

Turning over what she said, Artemis could only think of one reply.

"But what if the experiment works, Corporal?"

Honour just shook her head. "It's still a bad way to do things. I told Anonymous the same thing yesterday when I apologized for making the wrong choice at Newstirrup Bridge."

‘What!?’

"The wrong choice? But, Corporal, we swept them from the skies!"

Tensing, Honour Bound’s reply came with a hard edge and a slight scowl. "It was still the wrong decision. I barely won. Glamerspear wouldn't have won without the Royal Engineer bending the rules to act as her spotter. And you..."

Softening her tone, she lowered her haunches, pausing.

Artemis remembered how afraid she’d been, and even though Joker didn’t scare her even one bit now, she started to close up as she remembered how close she’d come to losing.

"I know. If he hadn't given me that pep talk, I might not have won, either."

Honour nodded. "And that's what made it the wrong choice. I didn't know what we were all capable of. I made a decision based on missing information that I should have known."

Artemis couldn’t explain it, but deep inside she felt that Honour must be wrong. It was frustratingly hard to put into words, though. Her vexation came out as she lifted her head and raised her voice.

"No, I don't agree, Corporal! Maybe you made a mistake by not doing enough reconnaissance, but even though I was the one who said we should just give up, I'm glad you chose to fight!"

Almost instinctively, she spread her wings and with a single, powerful, flap, she took to the air. Without her armor to weigh her down, however, she came close to crashing into the ceiling. As if it was all deliberate, she spread her feathers out as far as they could go, as much to stop the upward motion as it was to hold her in the air.

"'A good soldier is compelled to evaluate what's happened, so they can apply what they've learned. But when we're out in the field, we have to push it.'"

It was her favorite quote from her favorite book on the Commandant's Reading List, 'Top Pony.' As she floated back down to the ground, Artemis pounded one hoof into the other and then pointed at Honour.

"... You pushed it out there, Corporal. And you pushed us out there, too. Now that I've fought against a nimble flyer like Joker and not only survived, but won, I'm not going to be afraid like that again! And I bet you even Glamerspear learned something about how her own magic works, too!"

Taking a bit of a reckless chance, she jabbed one hoof into her stone-faced leader's chest. "... And you must have learned something, as well. At the very least, you learned what the guardsponies you lead can do; and you learned that your VIP knows a thing or two about leadership and resourcefulness."

Wearing a confident stare, she looked up into the steady, emotionless eyes of the leader of their quaternion. Leader for now, anyway.

Her expression didn’t shift, but she did nod her head ever so slightly. "Maybe you're right, Sparkshower..."

Looking off to the side, her nostrils flared as she inhaled sharply through them.

"... I'll think about what you said."

Corporal Bound turned back to face her. "... But I stand by my words about Ebonshield. Whoever is pulling the strings on this, is doing it without a good plan. And I'm sure she knows why she's here, too, but she refuses to break DADT even though it's a nonsense rule in this scenario."

Artemis pressed on. "But what if she's a good soldier?"

"Then she's a good soldier, and she'll be useful in a fight. But I still wanted the Guard to do better for Anonymous, because I think he deserves it."

There was nothing Artemis could really say to that. Of course she wanted the best for her VIP, too. At the very least, from her experience in talking with her, Honour was right that Ebonshield was not the one to guide the Royal Engineer through Equestrian society.

That didn’t mean she couldn’t help. Maybe she had some other talents he could use.

Honour interrupted her thought train before it could leave the station. "I've got to get ready for my shift. We can talk about this more, later, if you want."

"Sure, Corporal. Thanks."

Before she walked back to her door, Honour licked her lips and looked up at the ceiling.

"And... maybe I'm wrong about Ebonshield, too. Maybe things are going to sort themselves out on that front as well."

That brought a smile to Artemis’ face. "I hope so, Corporal."

Suggested interlude music: Justin Bell - 'Binder of Fate', from 'Tyranny' [2016]
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iAcMsF2Jbzk

Chapter 26

Lily Glamerspear

Lily Glamerspear was mentally and physically exhausted. It was almost six-thirty in the evening, and her eight-hour shift had ended over two hours ago. Eight hours that mostly consisted of standing in front of the Royal Engineer's doors, and trying not to go insane as she kept lurching from one emotional extreme to the next.

So much for hanging on once they ditched the batpony and the public.

Lily thought it would be impossible for her mind to overstimulate itself in a well-appointed palace chamber with her VIP just scribbling away at his desk, but she was wrong. With nothing to seize on, the flushes of emotion only got stranger and more random, and it somehow got even worse when he sent her back to Bridle Path Clothiers with his sketches for the outfit.

Lily had snuck a glance at his surprisingly detailed drawings, and she knew that her VIP was definitely going to rock the Gala with that sharp outfit. Unwittingly, it also sent her down a rerun of her prior sofa nightmare, which ended with her feeling terrified that she wouldn't get to go with him.

After her shift finally ended, the unicorn had spent the next hour and a half waiting at the infirmary to see a medic. Now she was finally sobered up, thanks to an antimagic elixir. The potion was formulated to put a damper on her horn, but it also suppressed the manaburn blowback, too. Lily had been prescribed another twelve, once-every-four-hour doses, which she’d packed in her saddlebag case.

With her present lucidity, she'd realized just how much of a long shot being invited to the Gala would be, anyways. The Grand Galloping Gala was, for the most part, a polite event for the ranking members of high society.

And like a hat or cloak, a VIP's retinue of guards likewise got checked at the door.

The small area reserved for retainers was supposed to be a party and a half on its own, but the unicorn had her eyes on the bigger prize: full and unfettered access. Her only hope for that rested on Anonymous being both blissfully unaware of tradition -- which so far he had proven to be -- and that, being unattached, he would simply bring whoever happened to be on duty in as his "plus-one". Considering how he bought a ticket for Sparkshower to sit with him at the Sardinia Theatre, that was a pretty safe bet, too.

So long as nopony spilled the beans to him about what those kinds of gestures usually meant.

As she approached the door to her quarters, Lily hoped that Sparkshower was there. She was a pal, and the sick-leave chit in her other bag demanded that somepony else fill in for Lily’s shift tomorrow.

She pushed open the door. "Hey, anypony home?"

"Lily! Where have you been?!" Artemis Sparkshower, bless her heart for being concerned about her, was sitting on the sofa. "... Corporal Bound went down to relieve you over two hours ago! I've been waiting for you to get back so we could go to dinner together!"

Aw, that was sweet of her.

"Sorry. I had to report to Medical."

Unable to use her telekinesis, and feeling the weight of her armor after all the time spent in it, Lily got on her hind legs and leaned back to shut the door behind her.

Sparkshower hustled over toward Lily, wearing an expression of concern. "Oh, no! What's wrong?"

Lily waved her off with a hoof. "It's nothing too serious. Apparently, I'm still suffering manaburn blowback from the fight at Newstirrup."

"But that was two days ago!"

"Yeah, apparently the totem just spreads out the pain instead of neutralizing it. I bet Bound still has a few aches and pains, too. I'll be fine in a few days..." Grinning, she grabbed one of the potion-vials out of her saddlebag. "... the doc's got me hopped up on horn juice."

Sparkshower scrunched up her face. "Horn... juice?"

‘Right, she's not a unicorn.’

"Sorry, slang term. Mana suppressant. Temporarily makes it impossible for me to channel magic through my horn. Also eliminates the side-effects of mana-burn..."

Putting the vial away, she raised her eyebrows at the pegasus. "...Gets used all the time in 'shoe camp with newbies who don't know how to control their magic and go overboard."

Sparkshower looked worriedly at her, and Lily sighed. "...I guess what I did to Kilfeather makes me a newbie again, heh."

What should have been a self-deprecating joke just made Sparks look even more worried. "You don't regret fighting, do you?"

She watched Lily intently as the unicorn staggered forward toward the sofa, before she tossed herself into it. "No, I don't regret it. But I do feel a bit put in my place, that's all." After collapsing on the sofa, Lily started to strip off her armor pieces by hoof.

Her reassurance brought the smile back to Artemis’ face. "Oh, good. So what happens now?"

"Now, I take a couple of days off at least. Which means I need one of you guys to cover my shifts."

"I can take your shift tomorrow morning, Lily. You don't have to worry about that."

Lily was hoping she'd say that. She was a good friend, and a good soldier, too.

The unicorn gave Artemis a smile. "Thanks, Sparks. You're a real pal."

Artemis likewise smiled at the compliment.

‘Well, she deserves it!’ When Lily thought of all the incompetent, mean, or just plain dumb soldiers she’d had as squadmates before…

Scratching her head now that she wasn’t wearing her helmet anymore, Lily looked around the room, gathering her thoughts before speaking up. "... Captain Mailedhoof invited me for drinks tonight. I feel a little bad going while on medical leave, though."

Sparkshower picked up Lily’s helmet and held out her hooves for more pieces. "You should go! As..." Her expression turned more to worry. "... As long as it's just drinks, right? And alcohol doesn't interfere with the potion?"

Leaning back on the sofa, Lily yanked off her sabots. "It's just drinks. This is just our first 'date,' effectively. We'll just sit and chat in the Officer's Club for a little bit. He'll show me off as a 'friend' of his, at first."

She rolled her head over to look at her younger comrade. "... That's how this usually goes. So I'm afraid you're on your own for dinner, tonight. I've got to have a shower and get changed."

Artemis shrugged. "It's OK. I guess it's just one of those days. I had to eat lunch alone, too."

That sucked. And who knows how many other creepos like Lieutenant Kilfeather were out there, trying to mack on Lily’s number one best buddy? She needed Lily’s around to help drive them off! She got to her hooves and, with Artemis’ help, walked her armor into her room and put it in a neat-enough pile.

"I promise you we'll do dinner together tomorrow night, Artemis." Giving her a friendly smile, Lily started to dig into her wardrobe. "... Now, where's the dress I was going to wear tonight? Ah, here it is!"

She pulled out a light, latte-coloured, mid-length camisole cocktail dress, with a 'bodycon' fit. Draping it over one foreleg to show it off, she turned back to Sparkshower.

"What do you think of this?"

Sparkshower’s eyes lit up, and it was hard to tell if she was impressed or scandalized.

"Holy moley! That's really pretty! But isn't it a bit... revealing?"

So it was both, then.

Lily waved a hoof dismissively. "That's the point, Sparks. There's no sense wearing a dress with ten layers or a big hoop skirt to hide my shape, when a pretty big reason I'm there is to show off my body, right?"

Eyeing the pegasus up and down, she put the same hoof up to her chin. "... You'd look good in something like this, believe me. Betcha you'd get your long-distance coltfriend galloping out to Canterlot if you send him a photograph of you in one, that's for sure."

Now Artemis was a combination of interested and scandalized. That was a delicious blend that set Lily’s mind in motion, and she started to imagine how she’d dress up her comrade to kill it at a nightclub.

"... Hmmm, but this isn't the right color for you. You'd want a bold primary, like green -- or blue, to match your eyes. We can go shopping someday when we're both off, I'll set you right, don't worry!"

Sparkshower nodded her head enthusiastically. "Yeah, I'd like that!"

Turning around, Lily pushed the wardrobe doors shut -- as shut as they could be with all the stuff she’d had crammed in there, at least.

"Anyways, I'm going to hop in the shower and get made up."

With Sparkshower leading the way, Lily stepped back out into the common area, still holding her dress. It was weird and somewhat cumbersome to not be using her horn to carry it, but she’d manage. For some reason, the washroom door was closed, and the light was on inside.

Sparkshower noticed Lily heading for the room and piped up. "Oh, Eb -- Sergeant Ebonshield, I mean; she said to call her 'Eb' for short -- is still in there. She's going out tonight, too."

Lily’s eyes narrowed. The batpony was going out to find somepony's neck to suck on, no doubt.

Suddenly, there was a clicking noise and the door opened.

Lily’s jaw dropped for the second time that day.

Sergeant Ebonshield emerged from the washroom, her hair styled up even further, held in place with a slightly glittery product. She'd put the same product in her tail, which was lusciously bushy but controlled. Her coat was clean and well brushed. As Lily blinked, she caught a glimpse of glittery eye shadow, applied sparingly enough that it was still tasteful. And Ebonshield was wearing a sequined, plum-coloured, backless bodycon dress that barely covered her backside. And to add insult to injury, she looked fantastic in it.

Looking her up and down, Lily couldn’t help but blurt out in shock. "What the hay is this??"

The batpony lifted a well-trimmed eyebrow up and looked Lily up and down in turn. "This, I believe, is a cocktail dress..." She glanced at the clothes Lily was holding, and nodded her head at the garment. "... Just like that?"

Still in shock, Lily couldn’t think of a coherent reply. So Ebonshield just stopped over to Sparkshower and, with a smile on her face, blew her a pair of kisses on each cheek.

"... Now, Artemis darling, do not wait up for me if I arrive home late."

Sparkshower smiled back. "I won't, Eb! Have a good time out!"

Finally, Lily’s brain was able to put together a few, dumbfounded words. "Where are you going in that??"

Ebonshield was fiddling with a small, matching hoofbag slung over one shoulder as she looked up at Lily, clearly incredulous. "I am going out clubbing. Where are you going?"

Lily could barely stammer out a reply. "I'm... I'm going on a date."

Sergeant Ebonshield stared at her like the idiot she, at least temporarily, was.

Shrugging her shoulders, she shook her head. "Then I wish you a good time. I will see you both tomorrow."

Before Lily could figure out anything else to say, Ebonshield trotted over to the door, waved a hoof goodbye, and left.

‘What the buck just happened here.’

"What the buck just happened here, Sparks?"

Now even Sparkshower gave her a strange look. "Sergeant Ebonshield dressed up for a night out? I don't understand what's wrong?"

Lily failed to reply, so she continued. "... She's a super nice pony, by the way. She couldn't talk about herself too much, because, you know, DADT, but I had a fun time today telling her some of my stories."

Sparkshower was swapping battle-tales with the batpony! The batpony who, apparently, could pull off a bodycon dress even better than Lily! And they were already on a first-name basis!

‘Bucking maverick Ginny-come-lately dark-horse tenderfoot sleeper-hit batpony stealing both your friend and your look!’

‘Buck!’

Suggested interlude music: Katy Perry - 'Dark Horse' [2013]
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0KSOMA3QBU0

Chapter 27

Artemis Sparkshower

Today was a great day. It wasn’t because Artemis had made a new friend the other day in the form of Sergeant Ebonshield, her new squadmate. It wasn’t because she got to sub in for her friend and comrade, Specialist Lily Glamerspear, while she recuperated from acute mana poisoning; though, to be fair, that was a lot more interesting than sitting around their quarters or doing boring training exercises! It wasn’t even because the forecast called for sunny skies and warm spring weather.

It was a great day, because Artemis got another letter from her Puddin'.

Huckleberry Pudding, Artemis’ coltfriend back in Berry had at last found the time to put quill to paper and send her a dispatch, after having failed to write to her since she’d last seen him a month and a half ago. And in it, he’d given heartfelt apologies for how long it had taken him to write, how he'd failed to come visit her, and how he was sorry that he hadn't figured out a plan to move to Canterlot. It was all good stuff that made Artemis tear up with joy when she’d first read it.

But the contents of the letter honestly didn't matter that much to her. It was enough just to hear from him, to see his signature at the bottom, and to smell the faintest hint of his musk on the paper. That's all it took to send her up to the stratosphere. Artemis was going to write him back that night, as soon as her shift was up.

Maybe she could get some leave to go visit him!

Hmmm... Or maybe she could see about doing what Glamerspear suggested, and send him a photograph of herself in something... risqué?

She’d have to think about that one. Her Puddin' was a traditional colt for Berry, and Berry was as traditional a town as they come. She might set tongues wagging in her hometown if she sent her colt a picture of herself in a piece of high-cut Canterlot fashion! After all, what Glamerspear and Ebonshield had been wearing last night left basically nothing to the imagination! They might as well have gone around without anything on at all!

Which they did all the time, she supposed.

But still, a dress without a bustle!

Scandalous.

And they'd come back scandalously late, too. As Artemis was a light sleeper, she’d heard them all when they came in. The first was Corporal Bound, just after midnight when her shift was over. No surprise or ignominy there.

Glamerspear was second, staggering in at around one o'clock, and her hoofsteps heavy on the floor. She might've had a little too much to drink with Captain Mailedhoof. The antimagic pills surely didn't help, either.

Finally Sergeant Ebonshield had come in, quiet as a mouse, at almost four in the morning. Artemis had barely even heard her; there was just the quiet fluttering of leathery wings. She was noisier than a pegasus trying their best to be silent, but not by much. Plenty of Artemis’ own kind made a lot more noise when flapping about. Anyway, she clearly must have had a good time to have stayed out so long -- and so late.

The pegasus hoped she could bring Glamerspear around to liking Ebonshield soon. It wouldn't be good to serve as the in-between friend for too long, considering how they all had to work together. Clearly, they had some interests in common she could bring up. Artemis didn't think clubbing was for her, but she’d bet they would have a lot of fun doing it together! Maybe the next time Glamerspear was in-between 'salt-licks'?

Thoughts for later.

Still happy and full of energy from that moment the morning's mail slipped under their door, Artemis eagerly knocked on the door to the Royal Engineer's chambers.

"Come in."

Giddily pushing her way into her VIP's chambers, Artemis sounded off. "Specialist Sparkshower reporting for duty, sir!"

Anonymous was standing in the middle of the room wearing an outfit she hadn’t seen before, but it looked exactly like his new athletic clothes as Eb had described them. He was doing some kind of stretching, with his legs splayed out wide as he bent over to one side to touch his feet.

"Good morning, Specialist. You seem to be in a good mood today."

"Yes, sir, I am!" As she eagerly shut the door behind her, the Royal Engineer got back up, before bending over the other way.

"Would I be intruding if I asked why?"

‘Aww, your VIP cares about your happiness! That's nice of him.’

She felt herself blushing a little bit. "No, sir. I received a letter from my coltfriend this morning."

Standing up again and placing his hands on his hips, he gave her a knowing nod. "Ah, I see. I take it he's not in Canterlot?"

"No, sir, he isn't."

He spread his arms and rotated his torso completely to one side, stretching at the waist. "I hope everything's going well for you two. Long-distance relationships can be difficult sometimes."

Artemis bobbed her head, still smiling. "They're going well, sir. Thank you, sir."

The Royal Engineer swiveled his shoulders around in the other direction. "I must confess that I was expecting Specialist Glamerspear this morning. I was hoping to make use of my new exercise wear in order to get her final approval. Wasn't she still scheduled on morning duty?"

"She is, sir, but I'm replacing her while she's on medical leave. Apparently, the MXP Games totem didn't completely protect her from the mana poisoning she gave herself when she took down Icepone. She's suffering headaches and other effects."

Her charge stopped his exercises. "Oh, no! She should have said something yesterday. I had no visitors, so I could have easily dismissed her to go see a doctor. Is she all right?"

In service training, you were told to rarely expect sympathy from a VIP. VIPs were demanding and self-interested to a fault. Anonymous was full of compassion, though. Artemis had really lucked out. And Ebonshield was right to have taken a liking to him! The old stories about batponies being miserable villains couldn't possibly be true; no scoundrel could as quickly take a shining to so charitable a pony as the Royal Engineer!

"She'll be fine, sir. But she's on medication that makes it impossible for her to serve as your bodyguard for the time being."

"Well, do give her my best wishes this afternoon. In the meantime, would you care to escort me on a jog around the garden?"

‘Asking you politely, as if you had a choice!’

It really was a good day to be Artemis Sparkshower.

"Absolutely, sir!"

As her VIP beckoned her over and they both headed towards the patio door behind the Royal Engineer’s bureau, he paused and held up a finger. "You've just reminded me of a question I had earlier, Specialist. What does the 'MXP' stand for in 'MXP Games'?"

Artemis almost winced. Even growing up in the simple countryside, that was an awkward topic.

"Er, it's a little embarrassing, to be honest. The old name for the 'MXP Games' is the 'Grand Tournament of Canterlot', and some ponies still call it that, because every few years somepony in the Royal Guard decides it needs a 'hip,’ 'cool' new name..."

Anonymous raised an eyebrow at her as he unlocked the glass door.

"... The latest such re-branding has it as the 'Most Extreme Pony Challenge'."

With the door opened, Artemis took to the air, clutching her spear in one forehoof as she awkwardly scratched her shoulder with the other.

"... It's generally considered so cringey that everypony always uses the 'MXP' acronym instead."

The Royal Engineer snorted, and then began to laugh. "Ahaha, I know exactly what that's like. We sometimes had the same problem in my world with such things, as well..."

As he shut the door behind them both, he kicked up his heels and headed off. "... But I wouldn't mind hearing a little about the Games, if you're able to talk and fly at the same time."

‘Pfft, as if any pegasus couldn't do that!’

"Sure thing, sir!"

Artemis took up a position beside and very slightly above him, and began to explain to her alien VIP the intricacies of the Royal Guard's annual martial games. The air was cool, but the sun shined down on her wings, filling Artemis with warmth. There was a nice breeze in the air, too, sending the tails of her white guardspony's caparison fluttering.

It really was nice out.

Flying off with her VIP, Artemis was filled with eager anticipation to see what pleasures the rest of the day held in store for her.

And, Celestia willing, she’d see her dear Puddin' again soon.

Suggested interlude music: Aretha Franklin - 'Ac-Cent-Tchu-Ate the Positive' [1962]
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4IP9h40z0sk

Chapter 28

Lily Glamerspear

This sucked. With no magic due to mana suppressants, Lily Glamerspear had to do everything with her hooves. Which, while she could manage it -- she was no tenderhoof unicorn, unable to do anything without telekinesis -- was not ideal. She had no interesting duties with Anonymous, or even basic training today due to medical leave, so she was stuck upstairs, bored out of her mind. And the next issue of Cosmoponitan wouldn’t even come out for another two weeks.

Glamerspear had no best buddy Sparkshower to chat with, since she was on duty. Instead, she was left with a tight-lipped Corporal Bound over at the four seat table, with her snout buried in a book. And Sergeant Ebonshield was still asleep, somehow.

‘What time did she get back last night??’

Sparkshower probably knew, but she’d already gone on duty by the time Lily woke up. The unicorn specialist wouldn’t find out what the pegasus knew until she went off-duty for lunch. And Lily wouldn't even be able to enjoy lunch, just like she wasn't able to enjoy breakfast, because the mana suppressants blunted the taste of everything so it tasted like sandpaper!

GAH!

At least last night with Captain Mailedhoof had gone well. Things weren’t too busy in the Officer's Club, so she got to relax a bit after her exhausting day. And Mailedhoof was all smiles and charm, though she could tell he really wanted to move on to the next step in the game ASAP. Poor colt would've taken her right then and there, if she’d let him.

But Lily had standards.

Drinks only got him an icebreaker.

Dinner would get him a first taste.

After that, it was salt bits for salt licks. And he looked like he had some good licks in him.

‘Ughn.’ She put a hoof up to her forehead. In her present condition, thinking about sex just gave her a headache. Another potential side-effect of the 'horn juice,’ according to the medical slip.

So with all those restrictions, there she was, lying down on the sofa, reading 'De Magia Unicornis: On Unicorn Magic.’ A classic tome -- and it really was a tome, from the size of the thing. She’d borrowed it from the palace library that morning after breakfast. Sure, it was old and some of the sections were a little outdated; the chapter recommending the consumption of certain herbs, the inhalation of strange alchemical mixtures, and the performing of certain exercises said to increase the size and girth of one's horn were particularly laughable.

Besides, everypony knows it's what you do with your horn that counts, not how big it is.

But when it came to basic theory and the practice of channelling magic through a unicorn horn, it was still hard to beat. And since this was the second time Lily had manaburned herself into what should have been unconsciousness, she figured it was worth a good read.

Newbie unicorns could mana-burn themselves just by opening a door with inefficient technique. It said something about her that she’d done it in the course of accomplishing extraordinary feats. Maybe with some practice and a closer examination of her capabilities, she could get closer to being able to repeat them without almost killing herself. That was a worthy goal that made it worth dealing with the archaic language and excessive word count of the old treatise.

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door, interrupting both the specialist and the corporal. Without waiting for an answer, Lieutenant Temper Violetta walked in.

"Good morning, guardsmares. Don't bother getting up. I'm just dropping off your new duty roster."

Oh, nice. Now Lily would be able to figure out who she had to trade with to get some Grand Galloping Gala action.

Lieutenant Violetta looked around the common area. "... Where's Sergeant Ebonshield?"

Lily nodded at her bedroom door. "Still asleep, Lieutenant."

That answer did not please Violetta. Lily smirked internally.

"Still asleep at ten-thirty in the morning…?" she furrowed her brow and shook her head. "... What kind of soldiers are they training over there in the Night Guard?"

Composing herself, she snorted dismissively, and walked over to the old duty calendar hanging on the wall. In one quick motion, the Lieutenant pulled their new calendar out of her saddle bag and swapped it for the old one.

Then she turned to face Bound.

"... Whatever the case, Corporal, I want you to see that she's up and ready for service after lunch. She's on deck for the evening shift."

Honour nodded, and the Lieutenant continued, muttering under her breath, "... We'll soon see what this 'bat-pony' is made out of."

With a quick salute, returned by both Specialist Glamerspear and the Corporal, Lieutenant Violetta departed the room and closed the door behind her.

Lily looked over at Corporal Bound. She had immediately been entirely reabsorbed by the enormous book she had in front of her. Whatever it was, that thing dwarfed even Lily’s ancient tome.

Figuring that there’s no time like the present, Lily got up and headed over to check out the calendar. It looked like the Lieutenant had pulled Lily out of the rotation for the next few days due to her medical leave. Instead, Corporal Bound was back on first-shift duty.

Didn't she just get off duty?

Lily turned her head to look back at Honour. "Looks like you're up for tomorrow morning, Corporal."

She didn’t even lift her head from the book. "I know. I asked for it."

Lily watched as she calmly turned the page.

‘Weird.’

"Didn't you just come off the rotation, though?"

"Yes, but I'm not going to let Ebonshield get the day shift until I'm sure she can handle it."

Sounds like the corporal didn't trust the sergeant any more than Lily did.

‘Good. I mean, really, sequins on a cocktail dress? What is this, last year?’

‘And going out clubbing on a Monday?’

Returning to the calendar, Lily lifted up the page to get into the roster for next month, and found the day of the Gala, thankfully, unmarked. It had Honour scheduled for the day shift and Sparkshower for the evening.

‘Damn!’

Hesitating for a bit, Lily let the page drop -- casually, so as not to arouse suspicion. Nopony must know that she was interested in a particular date. Otherwise it wouldn’t take much for the rest of them to figure out why. Returning to her place on the sofa, Lily positioned herself back in front of her book. But her eyes just skipped the words, and she aimlessly lifted her hoof to turn the page she hadn’t really read.

She had to get her hooves on the evening shift! That's when all the drinking and dancing would happen, and when the party really opened up!

‘Hmm....’

Sparkshower did like mingling with high society. But she didn’t seem like the kind of mare to really be into that sort of night-spot activity. After seeing her in that dress of hers, Lily figured Artemis’ idea of a cool nightclub probably involved a square dance and a bluegrass band. And she seriously doubted that Corporal Bound gave two clops about a big, social event like the Gala.

So, in theory, she could take the evening shift from Sparkshower in order to get in on the party at night. And Sparkshower could take the morning shift from Honour in order to get in on the society hobnobbing during the day. The only question was, how should she approach this with Sparks?

Sweat started to form on her brow as she considered the alternatives.

Should she come clean from the start? What if she said 'no,' though? This could be her only chance! Hardly anypony brought their saltine to an event like the Gala. But if Lily lied to her friend and cheated her out of her shift, what would she do if she found out? How quickly could Lily convince her to trade with Honour instead of being angry with her? Would she even feel good about herself afterwards?

Either way, she had to make her move as soon as possible.

Today, even. Any later, and the Gala would be wagging on every tongue across Canterlot. Even their morose corporal might cling to her shift.

Amidst all of these lingering questions, Lily didn't even notice that she had aimlessly turned to the next page using her horn's telekinesis alone.

‘What am I going to do?’

Ebonshield

For Sergeant First Class Ebonshield, now was the time to go to work. The excursion yesterday to the coltswear store of luxuries had merely been a pleasant diversion. And sampling last night of the nightlife of Canterlot city was a payment she had not yet earned. She had been hoping that the Majordomo would not slot her in until next week, giving her free rein to fully discover the city, but that was perhaps asking too much of fate.

At least the Majordomo had put her on the evening shift, allowing her to continue with her activities nocturnal. All she had to do was wait until after her job was done.

And what fun there was to at last get out of the stifling rookery!

Unfettered and unescorted access to the Canterlot, at any time of the day, without any need for permission especial or a mission assignment específica. That had been Ebonshield’s only demand when the request came in for a volunteer to immediately join three ponies of the Guardia Real on the duty of 'VIP bodyguard.'

Nopony else had stepped up, despite the origin of that call-to-the-arms.

Since she was the sole candidate, Ebonshield had felt entitled to propose a few terms. She was surprised at how easily the modifications had been accepted, but then again, her demand had been easy to rationalize. After all, an escort was expected to occasionally also serve as a courier.

In any case, the decision to confine her kind to the caves was so far proving to be unnecessary over-protectiveness. The salesponies in the coltswear store had not blinked an eye at the batpony in their midst. Although perhaps that had been because she was escorting a large and yet more alien-looking creature.

But her experiences last night had gone the same way. Ebonshield had provoked no riots merely trotting into a nightclub. Certainly, there was the feeling that some ponies were avoiding her general area, and she turned some heads also. But there was no drought of company on the dance floor or at the bar. In any case, everypony gawked at a new face, dress, mane, tail, or pair of wings in a nightclub.

What a shame that none of the colts had really caught her eye last night.

Ah, well.

Going clubbing on a Monday was bound to result in the pickings slim.

At the end of the week, the Friday and the Saturday, there would be more life. And she would have plenty of time to think on the subject for the next eight hours.

Arriving downstairs at the chamber doors of the Great Lord Anonymous, Engineer Royal, Ebonshield knocked on the door. Specialist Sparkshower immediately opened one door wide, obviously expecting at that time to be relieved. But, since her new patron had taken lunch in the city for a meeting, she had not been informed of the change of schedule.

And, as a result, the pegasus appeared a little shocked to see her.

Ebonshield looked her properly in the eyes. "Specialist Sparkshower, I hereby relieve you."

"By the pea-Oh, uh... I stand relieved, Sergeant."

‘Strange.’

Looking a little confused, she stood at the position of attention and nodded her salutation. Ebonshield returned the gesture, though it still felt unnatural to do. Had she expected her to say something different? Perhaps there was some special ritual phrase the Guardia Real used for the changing of the shifts?

No matter. She would ask her about this later.

After the greeting, the specialist trotted out past her, permitting Ebonshield in.

The room of the Engineer Royal was as she saw yesterday. Except now the Great Lord himself was sitting at his writing desk, scribbling away with a quill.

Holding the handle down so as to avoid the latch making any noise, she took up her position and silently closed the door behind her. Now came the more boring part of this new assignment. However, this assignment, she was no less boring than standing around in the rookery all day. And with the promise of the rewards far more exciting.

Over at the bureau, the Engineer Royal glanced up from his papers. "Good evening, Sergeant. I didn't realize the Lieutenant was going to put you into the rotation so soon."

"Great Lord, with the Specialist Glamerspear on temporary medical leave, your majordomo has assigned me so as to avoid overworking the rest of the cuaternio."

That was the formal word for a group of four bodyguards in her native language, but she could not remember the translation correct. Ebonshield remembered the word was similar, so hopefully she would be understood.

"Ah, I see. Carry on, then. I'm just going over some marketing materials that the publisher has sent over."

‘The publisher? The publisher for what?’

But Ebonshield was not there to pepper the Great Lord with questions that she ought to be able to answer herself, so she made herself to remember and simply to ask one of the other guardsmares about it later. Recalling what Glamerspear told her about addressing the Royal Engineer, she answered as if everything he said made perfect sense.

"Yes, sir."

Anonymous paused in his quill-work and looked up at her in earnest. "I suppose you may have heard this from the others, or gathered it from what I said to you yesterday, but please feel free to speak up, in private, of course, if you ever believe that I need some education in Equestrian customs."

Ah, alas, he is not very likely that she would be able to help him much about the customs Equestrian. Still, after having heard the whole story from Specialist Sparkshower yesterday, she did already have some ideas.

Turning on her hooves to face him, she bowed her head. "If the Great Lord wishes, I have two things that might be said, based on what I have heard of his experiences so far."

The Engineer Royal raised an eyebrow and put down his quill. "Oh, really? I'm all ears, Sergeant."

She lifted her head again. "The first one is more of a suggestion than a lesson, sir. I understand that the Great Lord considered participating in the Battle of Newstirrup Bridge when his group was accosted by bandoleros..."

Anonymous put one hand up to his chin, giving her his full attention, so she felt entitled to address him directly.

"... However, according to Specialist Sparkshower, you chose not to fight because you have never been trained in combat. I suggest therefore that you undertake such training as soon as possible, in case you are ever accosted in such a manner again."

Her VIP shook his head and waved one of his hands in a gesture of dismissal. "I'm an engineer, not a soldier, Sergeant. I'm not here to fight with anyone. And anyways, surely, with your comrades having so soundly beaten Lieutenant Kilfeather's squadron, nopony will challenge them, or us, again."

If he thinks as such, then the Engineer Royal definitely is as he says -- not a warrior.

"With respect, Great Lord, I find that it is typically the opposite. I understand that the First Canterlot Air Superiority wing was regarded as being a most potent force, with many great victories on their record. Now that the retinue of the Great Lord has overcome such a group thought to be 'the best,' this will merely invite new challengers seeking to obtain such a title for themselves. The Lieutenant may also try for a re-match, and it would be wise to have new tactics prepared."

Leaning back in his chair, the Engineer Royal indicated to her. "I suppose that does make sense. But as for new tricks, I do have a fourth soldier, now. Which brings a question to mind, actually. I'm curious, how do batponies fight?"

This was the wrong question to ask, and almost a little offensive. But she had anticipated this, and anyways, the Engineer Royal could not be expected to know anything about her kind.

She bowed her head again. "We fight in many manners, Great Lord, just as the other members of your retinue cannot all be said to fight similarly..."

Lifting her head, she looked him in the eyes and decided to offer a little of the cheek. From what she had seen of him so far, she thought he would appreciate such a slip of the tongue.

"... But if the Great Lord meant to ask how his newest servant fights, perhaps that would best be demonstrated directly, on the training field."

The Engineer Royal chuckled, and Ebonshield felt satisfaction to have read him correctly.

"Hah, all right. I'll think about it, Sergeant. I suppose I could treat it as exercise, at least."

She nodded respectfully. "I trust the Great Lord will make the correct decision in this matter."

Gathering up a few papers and then pounding their edges on the desk to arrange them neatly, her charge cleared off the space in front of him.

"There was a second thing you wanted to say, as well?"

‘Ah, now for the more sensitive matter.’

"It is more of a question for the Great Lord, based on what I have heard."

As she spoke, he turned his chair and poured himself a glass of water from the jug on a small sideboard up against the window behind him.

"A question? A question about what?"

Having a sense of humor was one thing. The other was knowing if this creature was as prudish as so many of the ponies Equestrian seemed to be. The Specialist Glamerspear yesterday, for example. She so obviously fantasized about the Engineer Royal, yet she pointedly denied being his marefriend.

If that was the way she felt about him, then why did she not do something? Perhaps she was merely under the effects of this 'manaburn' illness afflicting her at present.

That would be a convenient excuse.

"I am simply wondering when the Great Lord will make his selection from the guardsmares which have been given to him."

Turning back around, her VIP held a glass of water in one hand with a detached look on his face.

"And what am I supposed to be selecting?"

As she answered, he took a drink.

"Which of the mares to bed, sir."

The Great Lord Anonymous, Engineer Royal of Equestria, jolted forward in his chair and sprayed the mouthful of water he'd taken all over his neatly-stacked pile of papers.

Wiping his mouth, he looked up at her, incredulous. "I beg your pardon??"

She may have misjudged.

¡Ay, sombras malditas!

Chapter 30

Lily Glamerspear

Recommended background music: Rik Schafer - 'Disturbed and Twisted', from 'Vampire: The Masquerade - Bloodlines' [2004]
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JwBORt1USic

"Hey Sparks, do you think you could trade me a shift next month?"

Artemis hadn't come back upstairs at lunchtime; the Royal Engineer had taken her out for lunch instead. Apparently they'd 'jogged' halfway around the city before realizing it was lunch-time, which meant that when she’d finally shown up after the end of her shift, Lily’s only chance to make her move would be right then and there.

It was the most difficult thing Lily Glamerspear had ever done.

The cream-colored pegasus looked up at her from the other end of the sofa.

"Sure, what day?"

Maybe it was just the horn juice screwing with her, or maybe it was some lingering effect of the mana-burn, but she felt like she was sweating buckets. The sofa was going to be soaked when she got up.

"The fourteenth. It's a Saturday, I know. I've, uh, got kind of a private engagement that evening. Maybe you have a weekend I can trade for it afterwards?"

Lily knew full well that she did.

As if she was embarrassed to even ask, the unicorn grinned and awkwardly rubbed her shoulder. With a smile and a nod, Sparkshower got up from the sofa. Over at the card-table, Honour was still buried deep in that huge book of hers. It was even worse having her in the room, but what else could Lily do? She had to get this done now, before it's too late.

Sparkshower walked over to the calendar.

Time seemed to stand still as Sparkshower lifted up the current page to examine the duty roster for April.

‘Come on, come on, come on…’

Lily glanced, almost angrily, over at Honour.

She was still deep in that book.

‘Well, she'd better stay that way!’

Nosey mare ought to keep her snout out of Lily’s business.

Over at the calendar wall, Sparkshower let go of that month's page, and it seemed to crash down back onto the wall with a heavy thud, like thunder in the distance. She turned around incredibly slowly. And her head somehow preceded her body, staring at Lily even as her torso and neck were still facing away. She pictured her furious, her teeth bared, wings extended -- except they were leathery bat wings, instead of pretty feathered ones. Artemis opened her mouth, and suddenly fire shot from it. The flames reached across the room to lick at Lily’s body, and she could feel the heat of them. But she was frozen in place, her muscles locked up, and eyes fixed into the pegasus’ gaze.

Sparkshower spoke in an unnaturally low voice, and the whole palace rumbled with each syllable. "It looks like I'm on for the twenty-first in the evening, same as you the week before..."

The words came out so slowly that Lily struggled to make out each one. And all the while, the far end of the room seemed to twist itself into a spiral. Since when was the washroom door in the ceiling?

"...Sure, I can do that no problem!"

Glamerspear blinked, and Sparkshower was standing immediately in front of her now. She was smiling at Lily, but then her eyelids opened wider and wider, stretching back across her brow and over across her head.

Lily tried to gasp, but before she could make a sound, Artemis had peeled herself right open.

‘What the buck!? Somepony, make it stop!’

In spite of the horror of what she was witnessing, Lily felt herself smile and heard herself speak. "Thanks, Sparks. You're a pal."

All of a sudden there was a sharp pain at her left temple. She lifted up a hoof to rub it, only to find there was something there. Glancing over sideways, she realized it was a whole spear, sticking out of her head.

It was glowing, it was translucent, and it was teal.

It was one of hers!

And there's something at the far end of it. The shaft stretched out past the couch, almost reaching the far wall, which had moved itself a hundred yards away. Lily didn’t dare move her head an inch, lest she knock it into something. She just had to reach up, and reel it in to find out what was at the end. The spear turned to rope in her hooves, and she tugged it closer and closer, bringing the far wall with her.

It was something white and fluffy-looking.

‘What is that?’

Just when she’d almost got it close enough to take a good look, there was an unearthly crack from beside her. Corporal Bound had twisted her neck three-hundred-and-sixty degrees around, and bent it over backward and away from her book. She looked at Glamerspear with two eyes, and then over at Sparkshower with another pair.

There was a pulsing, pumping noise coming from somewhere, like the bellows of a forge. Even with a spear sticking out of her head and two comrades that seem to have suddenly taken contortionism to a new extreme, somehow this sound was even more horrifying.

It was so regular, rushing in and out in heavy throbs. The whole room seemed to beat along with it; everything got close when it pushed out, and then backed off when it drew in. She couldn’t even think, it was so loud.

But when Corporal Bound opened her mouth, it suddenly stopped. "You know, Sparkshower..."

‘No, no no…’

"... that's the day..."

‘NO, NO, NO!’

"... of the Grand..."

‘Why is it suddenly so hard to breathe?’

"... Galloping..."

‘youcantbreatheyoucantbreatheyoucantbreatheyoucantbreatheyoucantbreatheyoucantbreatheyoucantbreatheyoucantbreathe’

"... Gala."

Gasping for air as if she’d been held underwater, Lily drew in a huge breath.

‘The mana suppressants!’

She needed another dose, right the buck now! Scrambling forwards, Lily flailed her hooves at the potion satchel sitting on the coffee table. In the blink of an eye, she snatched up one of the vials, popped the cork, and threw it back like a cheap shot. The cold fluid dripped down her throat, and the pain -- and the spear -- seemed to disappear.

The room untwisted itself, and Corporal Bound turned her head back the right way again.

Even Sparkshower had her body the right side out now, but she was giving Lily a look.

A very angry look.

"IT IS?!"

‘Buck.’

Ebonshield

Sergeant Ebonshield, was so far having a first shift most enjoyable. After her little discussion with the Great Lord Anonymous, she was feeling excited. Yet what thing particular excited her the most?

The prospect of further nights enjoying the life of metropolitan Canterlot probably ranked the highest.

But she had to admit that she was also eager to see what new prospects awaited her in the service of the Engineer Royal. Who knows? Perhaps he would even prove to be a reasonable fighter? There would be benefits to a new sparring partner, at least.

‘Hmmm…’

She should discuss the possibility of training with the other members of the 'cuaternio'.

No, the quaternion -- that was the word in the Equestrian tongue, she remembered this, now.

Either way, they should all to train together certainly at least once or twice a month. Artemis did say that the Caporal Bound had regretted that before the Battle at Newstirrup Bridge.

Yet why had she done nothing? Did the Guardia Real not expect their VIP serviceponies to conduct some maneuvers with each other? How else were they going to fight together to defend their Lord or Lady?

Questions for later, though they might have been answered had she attended at the training V-I-P. Although actually finishing the course was, of course, out of the question. If not for other reasons, then at least because she had better things to do.

For example, to try out another nightclub tonight.

Somepony last night had recommended a place called 'The Stables,' in the street 'Thin,' near the square 'Pachyderm & Palace.' Reportedly, this attracted a livelier crowd than the one which she had tried last night, called 'Tapestry.'

'Tapestry' was probably a place perfectly enjoyable on a Friday or Saturday night. But she still needed a home after sunset for the other five nights of the week. And, since the Engineer Royal did not seem to have taken any real offence at her suggestions, she would have the opportunity to find one. She could hear already the music pumping in her ears, smell the cider and the sweat, and feel the wonderful warm heat of so many bodies pressed together.

And always the thought tantalizing that one of those bodies out there might belong to her, that night.

Ahhhh...

But for now, though, things were quiet. Her charge was at his desk, hunched over a stack of papers, one hand on his forehead, and the other scribbling furiously away with a quill. Even here over by the door, she could hear him muttering the numbers under his breath.

The work must be very important. Every now and then, he had to reach over to grab another sheet to refer to.

No books, though -- just papers. And some of them were quite large, folded up like maps.

He was deep in thought when there was suddenly a loud thud coming from the floor above.

Instinctively, her head pivoted up to try to suss out the source, but she was indistinct.

Nothing had crashed through the ceiling.

Somepony must have just tripped and fallen down in the hallway upstairs, or perhaps accidentally knocked over a piece of furniture.

She was about to dismiss the sound and settle back in, when there is another boom -- and what sounds like a heavy hoofsteps. Squinting, she stared up once more, swivelling her ears around forward. Perhaps if she flew up, she could get a better sense for what was occurring...

But that would probably disturb the Great Lord in his work.

Not to mention, violate his privacy -- the movable partition wall that divided the chambers in two separated off his bed chambers, but the partition, she was only about eight hooves high, whereas the ceiling must be thirty or forty.

As Ebonshield was pondering how to investigate, she started to hear the voices.

Two of them...

No, three, and they are now shouting at quite loudly, though still not loud enough for her to make anything out.

"Hmm. Sounds like somepony's having an argument..."

Over at his desk, the Engineer Royal had paused in his writing.

He gestured up at the source of the disruption.

"... What's up there, actually? I've never been upstairs."

As a recent immigrant to the palace, with the passages identical and the layout confusing, Ebonshield had to think about that question for a moment. The answer, when she came, had her feeling enveloped in a cold shadow.

"They are the rooms housing the members of your quaternion, Great Lord."

Anonymous frowed. "Really? You're lodged directly above this room?"

"Yes, Great Lord."

"I hope nothing is wrong."

So did she.

Just then, there was another boom -- accompanied by a crash.

Ebonshield nickered, and was about to say something, when there was a shout from upstairs which was loud enough to be understood, even though the ceiling.

~"... AT LEAST I'M NOT MAKING FRIENDS WITH THE BAT-PONY!"~

Inhaling deeply, Ebonshield rudely failed to look her Lord in the eyes even as she addressed him. "If the Great Lord would permit my absence for but a moment, I will investigate this disturbance."

Gracefully exiting the room and shutting the door behind her, she broke into a silent but rapid flight, going straight for the staircase.

‘Somepony upstairs will answer for this.’

With the Royal Engineer's chambers behind her, she could not see him pick his quill up and sharpen the instrument with his knife.

As Ebonshield made for the stairs, she was mostly too far away to hear the rest of the argument. For the sake of her unit, she did not hear the shouted replies that came after a few more heated, but comparatively quiet exchanges.

~"... BUT YOU DON'T EVEN LIKE ANONYMOUS! ... "~

She certainly could not see Anonymous, the Royal Engineer of Equestria frown as the indistinct, muffled shouting continued unabated. Putting down his quill and knife, he looked up at the ceiling, furrowed his brow, and then got to his feet.

Chapter 31

Honour Bound

Corporal Honour Bound could not believe the scene of destruction before her. The sofa had been flipped over backwards, its cushions strewn about the edges of the room after having been used as projectiles. Both club chairs had been toppled, one of them winding up wedged halfway inside the bathroom. A decorative metal buckler on the wall had been knocked off its nail by the force of an errant pillow. The room's copper water-jug and set of cups on the side-table were spilled all over the floor in a wet puddle, knocked down by the buckler as it fell.

And standing on their hind legs amidst this carnage, panting heavily, were Honour’s two Specialists, one of them with wings flared and the other with a glowing horn.

When the fight broke out, it was all she could do to shield Anonymous' book before things started flying. Now that both mares were catching their breath, it was time to put her hoof down.

"Specialist Sparkshower! Specialist Glamerspear! That's enough!"

As if suddenly aware of the mess they’d made, both of them glanced around the room, then turned to face the corporal. Staring sternly, she held their gazes just long enough for their angry expressions to turn sheepish. Then she shook her head, staring at them in turn.

"... Sparkshower, look at the mess you've caused!"

Instantly, the cream-colored pegasus got off her hind hooves and dropped down to sit on the ground, meekly lowering her head and flattening her ears. As bad as her contribution was, though, Honour knew who really instigated this. She gave Glamerspear a firm point with her right forehoof.

"... And Glamerspear, I can't believe you'd try to cheat a comrade and a friend!"

Instead of sitting down, her unicorn squaddie brought her hooves up to her face, her lip quivering.

‘Oh, don't you go and--’

"BAWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWHHHH!!!..."

Before she could even finish her thought, Glamerspear began bawling her eyes out.

With red eyes and a face like she'd just been forced to eat a whole bucket of rotten lemons, Specialist Glamerspear held her hooves out to Specialist Sparkshower in supplication.

"... I AM SO SORRY, SPARKSHOWER!!! I don't know what came over me! I can't believe I did that to you! Buhuhuhuhhuuhwwwuuunnn..."

Her convulsive blubbering seemed to be infectious, because Honour could see Sparkshower's lower lip start to shudder as well.

"... Ca-ca-ca-ca-can you forgive me, Sparks? Please, I'm so sorry, boohoohuhhuhuhahwaaaaaaa..."

Just when it appeared that the unicorn was about to fall forward onto all four hooves, her aggrieved squad-mate rushed forward to prop her up.

And now they were sobbing loudly in each others' hooves.

"buhuhuhuhahuhh-I FORGIVE YOU, LILY!-buuuhuhohuuu"

"huhuhuhuhaaaaa-THANKS, ARTEMIS, I DON'T DESERVE YOU!-bahuhuhuhhhhhnnn"

‘Celestia on a stick, these two!’

At least they'd stopped fighting, though. Honour could spare them a few minutes to get it all out of their system before she made them clean up the results of their mayhem. For now, she could just shake her head at the unbelievable antics of those two tenderhooves.

When the tears finally dried up and they were done sniveling, they backed off from their mutual lamentatious clinch.

That's when the door to their quarters swung open.

All three of them turned to look. It was Sergeant Ebonshield, her nose turned up and a look of displeasure on her face.

"You have interrupted the meditations of the Great Lord..."

She made her declaration slowly, her eyes jumping between each of them.

Before Honour could reply, she stepped up in front of her, getting her snout right up in the earth pony’s face.

"... Caporal, I will have an explanation for this disturbance."

Though she was surprised by the Sergeant’s slip to her native tongue, and even though she could feel the bat pony’s fur against her nose, Honour didn’t budge an inch. While she was still in charge of the quaternion, disciplining the juniors was her responsibility, not Ebonshield’s. Her place was downstairs with the Royal Engineer, even if the noise had upset him. And, frankly, it hadn't been that long or that loud, so she doubted it had.

But she was still a Sergeant, and Honour was just a Corporal.

Even if it was a made-up rank, said to match whatever her real title was in the Night Guard, it still meant she owed her an answer. Without backing up one bit, she replied calmly, but firmly. "Sergeant, Specialists Glamerspear and Sparkshower had a disagreement just now. It's over, and they are reconciled."

The batpony's eyes narrowed, her slit pupils expanding horizontally to compensate as she squinted vertically with her eyelids.

"A disagreement? A disagreement about what, exactly?"

Honour pondered how much to tell her. She didn’t need to know anything, and she didn’t doubt that Lieutenant Violetta would back her up if there was any question about who was in charge of the quaternion. But as much as Honour disliked what she represented, she had to admit that she didn’t have that much to dislike about her personally.

Until then, she hadn't even said three words to her since she was first introduced.

But Sparkshower, admittedly the happy-go-lucky optimist of the squad, claimed to have made fast friends with her. And burying her nose in Anonymous' book had been Honour’s way of avoiding having to interact with her.

So maybe stonewalling her would just be setting their working relationship up for failure. That wouldn't be fair to her, and although not much in the Royal Guard or life in general was fair, Honour certainly didn't want to have a hoof in screwing over somepony, especially if she’d only just met them.

"Specialist Glamerspear tried to trade shifts with Specialist Sparkshower under a false pretext, in order to ensure she would be accompanying Anonymous on the evening of the Grand Galloping Gala. Since I have the morning duty shift that day, I pointed out the significance of the date, and when Specialist Sparkshower confronted Specialist Glamerspear with this fact, the latter suggested that Sparkshower trade shifts with me, which I refused. An argument erupted, which quickly boiled over into the hurling of both insults and furniture..."

She shot a telling glance over at the two wet-cheeked Specialists.

"... both of which the Specialists now sincerely regret, don't they?"

As Sergeant Ebonshield turned her gaze away from Honour and over towards the others, they both rapidly went to parade rest.

"Yes, Sergeant!"
"Yes, Sergeant!"

The purple batpony inhaled sharply. "I see..." Stepping away from the corporal, she approached the argumentative pair. "... I am very disappointed. I was told that to enter the VIP Service was a great honor, and a great privilege, and that many guardsponies are turned away because they do not meet the high expectations for a personal bodyguard..."

Turning her head left and right to survey the room, she made a final pronouncement.

"... You are not meeting my expectations."

There was a glum sniffle from Sparkshower, and Honour was worried the waterworks were going to start again.

Ebonshield wasn’t done with them, though, and she started to circle the unicorn. "... Specialist Glamerspear, do you think that you are entitled to be in the presence of the Great Lord at the events of your choosing?"

Her reply came immediately.

"No, Sergeant!"

"Do you think that assisting the Great Lord in the selection of his outfit for the Grand Galloping Gala merits you a place at his side?"

"No, Sergeant!"

Again, there was no hesitation in her response, but Honour could see the gears that thought about saying 'yes' turn haltingly in her head.

"Then perhaps you think that you will be better able than the Specialist Sparkshower to assist the Great Lord at such a social event?"

The gears started spinning freely, and she didn’t answer, instead glancing over at Sparkshower.

Sergeant Ebonshield stopped in front of the unicorn, nose held high.

"... Well?"

Glamerspear locked her gaze forward once again. "Er... Maybe?"

The moment a coherent word came out of Glamerspear's mouth, the Sergeant shoved her face forward, right up against the unicorn's snout.

"You are not empowered to make that decision, Specialist Glamerspear! The privilege of deciding which guard is the best suited for what task lies with the soldier in charge of your unit, the Caporal Bound; the Majordomo in command of the mission, the Lieutenant Violetta; and, if need be, the Great Lord Anonymous himself!"

Maintaining her uncomfortably close posture for several seconds as if to emphasize the point, Sergeant Ebonshield eventually drew back.

"... What was the reason for which you tried to usurp the authority of the Caporal Bound?"

She turned her head slightly, looking in Honour’s direction as if to acknowledge her.

"... I am asking this question on the behalf of the Caporal -- the Corporal -- because, as she is a veteran warrior, I do not doubt that in this moment her fury burns brighter than all the stars in the sky, and such a fire would consume any lesser creature who happened to be found in her presence. A lesser creature such as you, Specialist!"

Glamerspear was clearly caught off-guard by the strange poetic metaphor, and Honour had to admit that even she was feeling a bit confused. Was that a backhanded insult for the fact that she didn't leap into intense questioning of the two guardsponies? Or was she, in her alien ways, genuinely paying her a compliment and trying to serve as her second?

Either way, it merited some closer attention.

Specialist Glamerspear cleared her throat.

"Sergeant, I, uh..."

"Yes, Specialist?"

Having attracted the Sergeant's attention once more, and no doubt feeling like she was back in horseshoe camp, Glamerspear shifted back into 'Yes, drill sergeant!' mode.

"Sergeant, this guardspony did greedily see an opportunity of a lifetime to attend the most important social event in Canterlot, and proceeded to villainously try and cheat her way into it at the expense of her comrades."

That earned her a sniff and a raised eyebrow from the Sergeant.

"'Opportunity of a lifetime,' Specialist? Yes, indeed, if you keep behaving like this! I have no patience for dishonorable guardsponies, and neither does the VIP Service nor, indeed, the Royal Guard!"

She leaned in close again, almost touching snouts.

"... And am I also to understand that you find some fault in your comrade for being overly welcoming to the Great Lord's newest servant?"

Glamerspear gulped.

"Sergeant, this guardspony did, in the course of the disagreement, say and do a number of things which she now thoroughly regrets and did not, in good conscience, intend."

Again there was the pause for effect from the Sergeant. Even though she was doing what should have been Honour’s job, and at the expense of her assigned posting downstairs, the earth pony had to admit that Ebonshield was doing a decent job of it. And she must have asked Anonymous to excuse her for a few minutes before leaving him alone.

"I see, Specialist. Very well..."

Apparently finished with her dressing-down of Glamerspear, Ebonshield turned her attention to Sparkshower.

"... And what have you got to say for yourself, Specialist Sparkshower? This elegantly-furnished room, so generously provided for your use by the custodians of the palace royal, even though a guardspony is satisfied with a bedroll in a dungeon oubliette -- why is he in this state so miserable?"

She seemed to slip into her native alien grammar during her tirade, with a strange word order, and referring to the room as a 'he.'

But it had the intended effect on Specialist Sparkshower.

"Sergeant! This guardspony did, during the course of the disagreement with Specialist Glamerspear, carelessly abuse the generously-provided furnishings in her fury!"

Once more, the nose-shove. Not even the drill sergeants at 'shoe camp could get right up in your snout like that. It took some real skill to get in so close, so consistently, without winding up in an accidental boop.

Which would just ruin the whole intimidation effect, to be honest.

Ebonshield must have had some serious practice with this. Maybe she'd been a drill instructor in the Night Guard?

"Yes, very careless indeed, Specialist Sparkshower! I hope for your sake that nothing has been damaged permanently!" She paused for emphasis, narrowing her eyes. "... And I am given to understand that you believe Specialist Glamerspear is not sufficiently invested in the subject of this operation?"

Referring to that earlier comment about Glamerspear not liking Anonymous, no doubt. Well, if those were the only two lines that they'd heard downstairs, that wasn't too bad, Honour supposed. Those were the most biting accusations, sure, but at least they didn't hear all the profanity. Honour had suspected Glamerspear of knowing some foul language, but Sparkshower had really surprised her. Country ponies had a strange ability to string otherwise-incoherent insults together into something really nasty, and despite her usual cheery demeanor, apparently she was no exception.

"Sergeant! This guardspony did make such a baseless accusation during the disagreement in an attempt to discredit her fellow guardspony, Specialist Glamerspear."

That would probably be the end of this little inquest of hers. She'd covered everything, and the two former belligerents were now both thoroughly chastised.

After another few seconds' pause, Honour was proven right, as Sergeant Ebonshield stepped back from the Specialists, turned around to face her, and bowed.

"Corporal, is there anything else I may address for you at this time?

"No, Sergeant."

After she answered, Ebonshield raised her head again. "I shall therefore return to my post. But if I may make one last statement in parting?"

Honour nodded, and Ebonshield addressed herself to the junior soldiers.

"... Gentlemares, you seem to be laboring under the assumption that you are in control of your own destinies while on duty. I assure you that this is not the case. While you are on duty, there is only one who controls the question of your fate..."

She lifted a hoof for emphasis.

"... That one is the Great Lord Anonymous, Royal Engineer of Equestria, and this question, only he can decide!"

The door to their quarters was still wide open, but somepony knocked at it anyways.

"Only I can decide what?"

Four sets of eyes went wide.

The Royal Engineer stood in the doorway, in his trousers and shirt but without his jacket, his hands hanging at his sides.

"Great Lord!"

Ebonshield bowed, but Honour was fixated on her charge and patron. He had an expression unlike any she’d seen him wear before.

It almost looked like he was... hesitant?

"I'm sorry for intruding in your quarters, but I heard my name mentioned..."

Sparkshower went pale, and Glamerspear was on the verge of hyperventilating.

Sergeant Ebonshield spoke up first. "Great Lord, I apologize for the disturbance. Corporal Bound has already seen to its end. Please, allow me to escort you back downstairs, that you may continue your work."

The Royal Engineer of Equestria fidgeted with his hands.

"Oh... All right, I suppose. I just wondered if, er, if I could be of any help here. That's all."

‘What's gotten into him?’

This was not the confident VIP Honour knew. Did Sparkshower's accusation unbalance him that much? Or did Ebonshield say something to discomfit him earlier in her shift? Either way, seeing him like that was a bit of a shock to her.

Ebonshield continued. "No help is required here, Great Lord. I apologize for the state in which you find these chambers. There was a disagreement, but it has been resolved."

"Um, what was the disagreement about?"

Although she'd been speaking to the Royal Engineer on her own, as if she was in charge here, Ebonshield glanced over at the corporal, obviously asking her permission to continue.

Well, to be fair, she's the pony on duty right now. It only makes sense for her to be addressing herself to Anonymous under the circumstances.

Honour shrugged her eyebrows at Ebonshield. Might as well tell him the truth if he wants to hear it. She appeared to understand the corporal’s gesture, bowing her head to the Royal Engineer slightly before she spoke.

"Great Lord, the disagreement between Specialist Glamerspear and Specialist Sparkshower was over the question of which of your retinue would have the privilege of escorting you to the Grand Galloping Gala next month."

Bizarrely, there was some red in his cheeks all of a sudden. He looked tellingly over at Sparkshower and Glamerspear, who both seemed ready to die of embarrassment.

Which would damn well serve them right.

"Oh... If that's the problem... Am I only allowed to bring one guard to the Gala?"

'Now that's an interesting question.'

Honour didn't know enough about the guard’s rules for attendance at the Gala proper, having never given the main portion of the event any serious thought. This was exactly the kind of situation where a socialite Royal Guardspony from a minor noble house would have been of great benefit to have as the fourth member of the quaternion, instead of an alien batpony.

But in this particular case, Glamerspear, having taken initiative with her scam attempt, probably knew all the details. Honour glanced in her direction, lifted an eyebrow and gave her a nod.

The unicorn cleared her throat before speaking, getting a stern glare from Sergeant Ebonshield. "Uh, strictly speaking, guests aren't allowed to bring any guards into the Gala proper..."

With everyone's attention on her, she picked up a bit. "... It's considered that all guests are under the protection of Their Majesties, so any escorts are left at the door and sent to their own little 'party room.'"

Glamerspear dipped her head meekly. "... But since you're bound to be issued two tickets, I figured you'd probably just take whoever happened to be on duty in as a guest rather than a guard."

The Royal Engineer licked his lips. "And you both wanted that?"

They nodded, and Sparkshower piped up. "Even Corporal Bound was interested!"

Honour could have hoof-slapped her forehead right about then.

'Way to go, Sparkshower.'

'Make a mess on the floor, and then show it proudly to the VIP.'

The room was silent as the Royal Engineer looked down at her, and around at everypony else.

Then he just shrugged. "Well, er, is there any reason I wouldn't be able to get my hands on two extra tickets?"

Glamerspear's eyes went wide and her jaw dropped like she'd just been told she won the Equestrian State Lottery.

"Uh... Sure... If you asked for a couple more, I don't think anypony would say 'no.' I just... never considered that you'd do such a thing."

Anonymous slipped his hands into his pockets. "I mean, if it means that much to the three of you, I don't see why not. You too, Sergeant, if you're interested."

Rather than bowing, Ebonshield just smiled and nodded her head, blinking slowly. "I would consider this a privilege and an honor, Great Lord."

That seemed to cheer him up a bit, as Honour saw the smile creep back onto his face and the confidence come back into his voice. "So it's settled, then. I'll ask for five tickets in total."

"Uh..." Piping up, Sparkshower awkwardly scratched one foreleg with the other.

"... Could you make it six, sir?"

She smiled, blushing so heavily she couldn’t even bring herself to look the Royal Engineer in the eyes.

"... I'd... I'd really like to be able to invite my coltfriend to come."

Lifting an eyebrow, Anonymous grinned and gave a friendly laugh.

‘Now he's back in proper form.’

"Hah, all right, six tickets it is..."

He jerked his head towards the staircase at the end of the hall.

"... Now, I've intruded up here on the servants' floor enough for one day. Let's head back downstairs, Sergeant, so the clean-up operation can begin."

Stepping out of the doorway, he departed, and Ebonshield followed after him, shutting the door behind her.

Honour Bound turned to the two idiot specialists in her charge.

If Equestria could be powered by smiles, Sparkshower's would fuel the nation for a hundred years. "Wow! Did you hear that, Lily? We ALL get to go! Huckleberry too! Ooh, I can't wait to write to him tonight!"

Glamerspear tried to smile, but she just looked tired. "Yeah. Hey, Sparks, can you do me a favor?"

That set Sparkshower on guard again a little bit, given the current context.

“Um, maybe?"

'Well, at least she's learning.'

Glamerspear chuckled weakly, then stepped over to the coffee table to grab her medicine pouch.

Honour furrowed her brow. "Didn't you just take one of those before the fight?"

Before she’d even finished, Glamerspear popped another one of the mana suppressants.

"Yeah, I did, Corporal. And I was still using my horn during the fight..." She looked over at Sparkshower, putting a hoof up to her horn and groaning in pain. "... Can you do your jerk-ass friend a favor and help me drag my sorry butt to medical, Sparks?"

Glamerspear looked down at the empty vial.

"... I've been taking double doses of this stuff since last night, and I still feel awful."

The pegasus pony approached with a regretful smile on her face. "Of course I'll help you there, Lily."

As they made for the door, Honour cleared her throat. The two 'shoes stopped to look at her, and she nodded at the awful mess they were leaving behind. There was a gulp and a groan.

‘Ugh.’

Rolling her eyes and shaking her head, she pointed at the door. "Get out of here, and don't forget that you both owe me for this."

"Thanks, Corporal."

As they left, Honour started to put the room back in order.

In every squad, there was always one troublemaker.

Lucky her; she had two.

Chapter 32

Phillip Songwell

Suggested background music: Austin Wintory - 'Everyone has a Price', from 'Assasin's Creed: Syndicate' [2015]
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8P0nOoetWjM

"That's it. That's all you've got to do, Songwell. Think you can manage it?"

Phillip Songwell, Foremost Teamster of Bitsmount Silver Mine, was not sure that he could.

"I don't know, Mister Bitsmount. It sounds simple, but what if we're found out?"

Across from him, his boss, Galloway Bitsmount, sniffed his cognac and took a sip. "We won't be found out, Songwell -- not if you stick to the script. Do I have to go over it again?"

Swirling the expensive liquor in its fancy glass around with one hoof, he put the other on the table. "... We'll go in front of Celestia, and you'll tell her it was your idea to reduce the timber allotment. You did it because you were under a lot of pressure to improve the productivity of the mine..."

Mr. Bitsmount held the glass up to the window high up in the ceiling, admiring the color of his drink in what little light percolated through the stained-glass window into the basement tavern.

"... You didn't realize that somepony could have gotten hurt. You didn't realize that that's why there've been so many mine collapses. You're ashamed to know that your decision could have caused disaster. You have trouble sleeping at night now that it's been made clear to you what you've done."

The young mine-owner cocked an eye at him. "... Lay on the emotions thick and heavy, Songwell."

With a frown, Songwell pawed at his mug of ale. "Is that really all it's going to take?"

Bitsmount guffawed. "Pfft! You shed a few tears, Songwell, and watch Her Majesty lap them up. She loves serving as a confessor, hearing ponies regret all the misdeeds they've done. And she loves forgiving them even more. It's not just ponies, either..."

Another long sniff was followed with a quick sip from his boss.

"... How d'you think Discord keeps getting out? She even goes and forgives him, whatever-the-Tartarus he is, instead of keeping him locked up."

"I s'pose that's true." Lifting the sizable mug, Songwell took a gulp of the Ploughpony's Brown Ale. The cool, malty flavor did much to assuage his nerves about this whole affair.

Lying in open court to Her Majesty the Princess!

It was almost treasonable. He got a bit hot under the collar just thinking about it.

Hopefully, nopony noticed.

"Take another drink, Songwell. You look like you're steaming up over there, and the dense air in this cellar can't be helping."

Obliging his boss, he did as he was told.

‘What the Tartarus, he's paying for it anyways.’

And a lot more, too, if he came out clean at the end of this inquest.

"Anyways, after you've confessed and, ideally, broken down in tears while proclaiming your intention to resign post-haste, I'll rush to your side and, reassuring you that forgiveness is the root of all charity, or some other such drivel, ask, nay, demand to be punished in your stead."

It did seem like it would make a striking scene. Songwell could just picture the headlines on the evening papers.

'BITSMOUNT THROWS SELF ON MERCY OF COURT TO SPARE TRUSTED TEAMSTER FROM DONJON'

Likely to set a lot of ponies talking about-and-about what a good chap Galloway Bitsmount the Younger has turned out to be after all, in spite of all those stories of wild and debauched parties coming from his mansion. The prospect of attending -or, Celestia forbid!- perhaps even hosting an event of Songwell’s own with the paycheque Bitsmount had offered him for this did lubricate things quite a bit.

Songwell nodded. "It does sound a right solid plan, sir. I'll manage it."

That put a smile on his opposite's face, and Bitsmount’s starched collar brushed against his coat as he straightened his neck. "Of course it is, Songwell. Oldest one in the book. Cheers."

With his boss' prompting, they both took another drink -- Bitsmount of his hundred-bits-a-glass cognac, Songwell of his five-bits-a-mug Ploughpony's. He'd turned his nose up when Songwell asked for it, but ol' Ploughpony had never let him down. And, anyways, in times of stress, it weren't hardly uncommon for a pony to turn to a familiar brook.

There was still one doubt lingering in his mind, though.

"The way I hear it, though, Mister Bitsmount, it ain't 'er Majesty Princess Celestia we've got to worry about..."

Unwilling to speak such dark words in any degree of openness, even though the pub was half-empty and any sound would have been dampened by the fiddle-player in the far corner, he leaned in conspiratorially.

"... It's the sister who serves as Her Majesty's truth-sayer we've got to worry about, what with 'er strange ways peerin' into dreams an' all."

Galloway Bitsmount, twenty years Songwell’s junior, sneered. "Ah, yes, the bloody blue baby witch..."

Horrified by his use of such a term, even though he might have thought it himself, Songwell glanced around to make sure nopony heard.

Bitsmount waved him off his nervous inspection. "... Why do you think we're meeting in this veritable dive of a tavern, down in the under-tiers near the wharf?"

The Cackling Cormorant was perhaps a bit too nautical for Songwell’s tastes, but it seemed a perfectly serviceable establishment. It was clean, reasonably lively, and -- despite being in a basement -- it wasn't so dim that he couldn't see across the table, nor so smoky as to choke him. But, then again, Galloway Bitsmount was a pony of far more refined tastes than him.

"Why are we meeting here, sir?"

Now it was his employer's turn to lean in close.

"I know a pony."

He scrunched up his upper lip and nodded his head to one side. "... Well, I know a pony who knows a pony... who came to one of my little parties, who happens to be friends with a pony who's had dealings with a pony who has conducted business with a pony who knows a certain pony avowed of special skills..."

Leaning back, he tapped his snout with his free hoof.

"... skills that can help us with that particular problem."

Bitsmount surveyed the drinking-room out of the corners of his eyes.

"... And their representative is supposed to be meeting us here this afternoon."

"I see."

Songwell was not particularly eager to meet anypony who claimed to be able to thwart an alicorn's powers. About the only ones who could had already gone down in history as the worst villains Equestria had seen so far. Discord, The Bitch-Queen of the Changelings, that madcolt from the Crystal Kingdom...

Well, this was perhaps less along the lines of challenging the Princess' rule directly, and more along the lines of simply subverting one of her strange sister's powers.

There was a small clatter from the doorway, and Songwell peered back around the edge of the booth to see a group of four rowdy-looking dockworkers stroll in with their afternoon pay, laughing and barking orders at the innkeeper, who hastened to put himself at their disposal.

As he escorted them to a large booth in the far corner of the room, Songwell saw an old mare trundle in after them. She looked ancient, with a grey mane, wrinkled lips, and a little white cane in one hoof. What was most striking, though, was the poor cut of her cloth.

Songwell’s employer was well-dressed in a crisp suit with a starched collar and neat cuffs. Across from Bitsmount, Songwell had on his nice wool suit with matching waistcoat, and a blue neckerchief for a bit of color. Even those four longshoreponies, fresh from unloading a boat no doubt, managed to look proper in their striped caps and neat vests.

But the old mare, freshly arrived, had clothing that was far beneath even the modest standards of the pub. As she appeared to be heading for a booth nearby, Songwell got a good look at what must have once been elegant finery. There were deep tears in the shoulders of her patterned coat, and from beneath it poked white lace cuffs, torn almost to tatters. Slung around her neck was a collar of fox fur which was matted and riddled with mange. She even had a fascinator pinned to her mane, but its feathers had all withered away to the bone.

Across from the teamster, Bitsmount almost instinctively sneered at the display of abject poverty.

Even Songwell couldn’t help but bury his snout in his beer, lest he appear to be staring. Hoisting his mug, he took a deep draught as she passed by.

Only to almost spit it out in shock as she casually seated herself next to his employer! Galloway Bitsmount looked so repelled by the creature sitting next to him that he couldn’t even find the words to express his disgust.

And now that she was right in front of him, Songwell saw, to his shock, that her eyes were white -- all white!

‘Poor old mare must be blind as a bat!’

With his employer mute, Songwell cleared his throat. "Ahem. Ma'am, I think you've made-"

"Shhht! Hold your tongue!"

The crone's cackling, low whisper made Songwell feel like spiders were crawling up his legs. But all she did otherwise was simply sit and stare forward with her blind eyes.

Songwell exchanged a telling glance with the noblepony across from him.

Could this be the 'representative' he was talking about?

Licking his lips, Bitsmount opened his mouth. "Are you here from... the Fami-"

"Quiet!"

Again the biting whisper that seemed to thicken the air. This was just confusing. She was sitting there, head awkwardly held at strange angles which made it obvious she couldn't see a single thing. This mute shusher couldn't possibly be who they were waiting for.

"Oh, there you are, Granny!"

From behind the bar, Songwell heard the innkeeper bellow at their table.

"Yes, here I is, and I've been waiting to be served now for several-a-minute, chucker-out!"

Trotting over, the barcolt was all smiles despite the insult. "Now, Granny, you seem to have mistaken these fine gentlecolts' booth for the bar, and their bench for a stool. Come now, your usual seat is this way."

He held out a hoof and tried to guide her away.

"What? Rubbish! Rubbish!"

Despite her protestations, she got to her hooves, but once freed from the seat, she turned around and squinted at Songwell and Bitsmount.

Her friendly greeting, accompanied by a toothless grin and a withered-hoof wave, just confused the two of them even more, but, again smiling, the barkeep escorted her gently off to her perch at the brass rail, getting her settled in with a drink, before she left the bar once again to approach Songwell’s and Bitsmount’s table.

"... Why... It's Eustace! And Horace! Oh, but we haven't time to talk now, have we? We'll meet tomorrow evening for cribbage behind the old mill in Mitre Street."

Having spotted "Granny’s" departure from her stool, the barkeep rushed over to Bitsmount’s side of the table, leaning his forehooves on her shoulders to usher away the decrepit mare once more.

"Dreadfully sorry for that interruption, gentlecolts. Please accept my apologies."

Songwell’s employer seemed to be either deep in thought or deep in his cognac, so he answered. "It's no trouble. But who was that?"

The barkeep shrugged his shoulders. "A long-time local patron. Everypony 'round these parts just calls her 'Granny,' though a few will call her 'Granny Nag' behind her back, on account of her age. Don't worry, she's no trouble at all."

"As you say, then."

Dismissing him with a nod, Songwell received a bow in exchange. Bitsmount was still huddled up with his drink, squinting at 'Granny Nag.’

"Shouldn't we keep our eyes open for the contact, Mister Bitsmount?"

He stared up at him. "That was the contact, Songwell."

He scrunched up his snout in confusion. "Beg pardon, sir?"

"Tomorrow, behind the old mill in Mitre Street. Come now, Songwell, you can't have missed that."

It seemed to him like nothing more than the ranting of an old crone, but Bitsmount seemed to be taking it seriously, for he downed the rest of his pricey cognac in a single gulp. Pulling out a handkerchief and wiping his mouth, he nodded at the teamster.

"... Finish your swill, Songwell, and then let's go. We'll meet up tomorrow afternoon."

Taking a long sip of his ale, Songwell peered into the smoke at the strange messenger mare. Sitting by herself, she appeared to be carrying on a conversation with the empty seat next to her. Well, if this was how Bitsmount's contact did business, things were likely to get stranger by the end of it.

But there was going to be a bag of bits in it for him at the end, at least.

Chapter 33

Artemis Sparkshower

There were a lot of worries and concerns juggling around in Artemis’ head right now.

Foremost among them was the unknown condition of her friend and comrade, Specialist Lily Glamerspear. She’d helped her over to the barracks medical ward last night, but once her condition had been assessed, the doctors had whisked her away, condemning her to the waiting-room.

She had lingered there for hours, moving between the waiting room seats or pacing back and forth on the tiled floors, before they finally ordered the pegasus to return to her quarters; Glamerspear was going to be kept overnight. They'd answered no questions in the meantime, except to say that 'her situation was under control,' which just left Artemis worried about what was actually going on. She wanted to go visit the infirmary again this morning to check up on her, but with Glamerspear laid up and Sergeant Ebonshield still asleep, Artemis was the only backup pony Corporal Bound had right now, should the Royal Engineer need a second escort.

And speaking of Ebonshield, there was something funny about the way she'd come home last night, but that one wasn't so important.

What was starting to feel really important was the letter Artemis was trying to write to her Puddin'. How best to word his invitation to the Gala? It was a tricky matter; he was just a simple country pony, and big news like this would be quite a shock. But he was her simple country pony, and she didn't want to give him a heart attack or anything!

Now that she thought about it, if Huckleberry Pudding was going to take her to the ball, he'd definitely need a trip to the Bridle Path, or somewhere similar, for a new suit.

Gosh, and what about herself?

She couldn't wear that same ball-gown she’d already worn around Canterlot to the Gala!

She hadn't even thought about how she’d dress.

Add another worry to juggle around in the air.

As Artemis stared, frustrated, at the blank sheet of paper before her, quill in hoof, she felt the worry-balls start to drop one by one.

Just at the moment when they all crashed down to the ground, the front door opened.

Turning sideways in the chair, Artemis looked up and was overjoyed to see Glamerspear walk into the common-room of their shared quarters, looking a bit tired. But what was that contraption on her head?

"Hey, Sparks." Her normally energetic unicorn sister-in-arms shut the door, walked over to the sofa, and clambered up into it.

Too dumbstruck by the casual entrance and strange new headwear she was sporting, Artemis couldn’t do much more than stare.

"Um... Good morning, Lily."

With an awkward grin, she pointed both forehooves at the grey metal cone surrounding her horn, with its narrow end at her head that gradually flared outwards and upwards into the air, almost like a large collar.

"Like my new hat?"

Frowning, Artemis shook her head. "What is it?"

Glamerspear laughed. "This is just an E-collar, Sparks -- an energy collar, made of lead to block any residual magical radiation. The real show is inside -- look!"

Having said that, she tilted her head downward and slightly to the side, giving Artemis a good look inside the cone. Her horn was still there -- thank Celestia! -- but there was a pair of black metal rings, joined by a chain, placed around its tip and base. Glamerspear jiggled her head around a bit, jostling the chain -- but the clamps held fast. Three screws around the periphery seemed to be what was securing each of the shackles to the horn underneath.

"I don't understand what I'm looking at."

She lifted her head again to look her in the eyes. "I've been spellbound. Doctor's orders. The iron fetters, properly tuned and placed at opposite ends of a unicorn's horn, completely suppress all magical energy output. The E-collar is there just as a safety net in case anything still leaks out, to keep it from messing with my head..."

She shrugged.

"... Apparently, that MXP Totem was keeping me just at the edge of serious mana-burn levels this whole time, so even thinking about casting a spell was enough to push things over into the danger zone. And the mana suppressant potions weren't designed to hold against sustained mana-toxicity levels like that -- so, I get spellbound. Normally they only do this to unicorns who go cuckoo or turn criminal."

Taking a deep breath, she pawed at the sofa cushion beside her with a hoof.

"... They had to call in some experts from the Schola Magia, apparently. Nopony's seen a case quite like this before."

Rolling her eyebrows, Glamerspear sucked in her lips, then popped them with a smack.

"... Guess I'm gonna wind up in some medical textbook in a few years."

She sounded really embarrassed.

"I wish I could have been there for you, Lily. They chased me away and told me I couldn't come in."

Glamerspear let out a sharp laugh. "Hah! Thanks, Sparks, but I'm not really upset about all this..."

She gestured at all the metal contraptions on her head. "... It is what it is: treatment. I'll be going back every evening for them to take measurements to see if it's time to pull it off."

Shrugging again, she lifted her eyebrows and looked around awkwardly.

"... I just feel kinda... useless... without any magic, ya know?"

Artemis smiled sympathetically. "Well, you've got to get better, or else who will Anonymous turn to when he needs somepony swatted from the sky, right?"

Her unicorn pal just nodded her head, and Artemis could hear the spellbinder chain rattle away inside her E-collar cone.

"Sure, sure..."

Casting a glance around the room, probably surprised by how Corporal Bound managed to get everything back in order, she took a deep breath and looked back up at the pegasus.

"... So, anything happen while I was gone?"

She'd only been out of her sight for at most twelve hours. But she supposed there had been some news.

"Well..." Leaning over sideways to get closer to her, Artemis lowered her voice, staring at their newest comrade's bedroom door.

"... I don't think Sergeant Ebonshield came home alone last night."

Glamerspear's eyes went wide, and her mouth dropped open. She scrambled over to the end of the sofa closest to Artemis and leaned over, whispering. "What?!"

Artemis shrugged. "I heard four pairs of hoofsteps come in last night. Although it was kinda hard to tell, since they weren't walking very steady."

Lily scrunched up her nose. "She's bringing her coltfriend into our dormitory for conjugal visits? As if having one batpony around wasn't enough!"

That was uncalled-for, but before she could either scold her or continue, there was a creaking noise from the far side of the room.

Both of them gasped, and Glamerspear peeked her head just barely around the edge of the sofa to covertly spy on the Sergeant's bedroom door. It wasn’t actually very stealthy, what with the huge metal cone sticking out from her head.

The door into the blackened room opened, and out stepped...

A young, pastel-blue earth pony with a messy black mane, dressed in a black suit-jacket on top of a wrinkled green shirt, with his top buttons undone, and an untied necktie slung over his shoulders.

That couldn’t possibly be her coltfriend. What was he doing in her room?

The obvious answer had Artemis growing rosy in the cheeks.

After carefully closing the door, he turned around, revealing his baggy, bloodshot eyes.

And then he suddenly realized he was not alone in the common room. "Oh... uh, hi. Um... she's still, like, asleep? So, uh, you know... shhhh."

Glamerspear shot Artemis a glance, her expression like she couldn’t believe what she was seeing.

Heedless to her reaction, the colt started to tip-hoof his way toward the main door. Before he reached it, Sergeant Ebonshield's door opened once again. And the Sarge herself stood in the doorway, wearing a slinky, translucent pink negligee, and looking just as ruffled and hung-over as the colt, with last night's makeup still on her face.

‘Wow, that's quite the outfit.’

Artemis felt the rosiness in her cheeks intensify.

Ebonshield shot a smile at the two of them. "Good morning, Specialists..." Then she stood up on her hind legs, facing the door-frame and stretching up her hooves into its upper corner, looking over sideways at the colt. "...and buenos días, mi amor."

Artemis swore she could hear him say something like 'duck,' but then he turned around with a fake-looking grin on his face. "Hey, uh, good morning, um, uh, er..."

That was the Sergeant's cue to spread her bat-like wings, staring at him seductively with smoky, violet orbs. "Ebonshield, cariño."

Artemis saw his eyes bulge as he stared at her wings, and there was a bead of sweat on his scruffy brow. "Right, Ebonshield, yeah... I'm, uh, Charles Ironrail, hi."

She took the opportunity to shift sideways, exposing her front toward him, and dropping one hoof casually by her hips, while the other was held up high. "Sí, I remember your name, Carlos. Aren't you going to stay for breakfast?" She started to run the same hoof slowly up her front, slowly batting her mascara-thickened eyelashes at him.

‘That's... that's definitely something.’

Trying again to force a smile, the colt nervously backed up towards the door. "Uh, hah, uh... no, you know, uh it's super late, and I had a great time last night, and I'm really sorry about this, but I've really got to, uh, bail..." Grasping the door with one hoof, even as she licked her lips, he spurted out the rest in a single breath. "... You know, babe, uh, what with the uh, bat wings and all, which I didn't really notice in the club, and uh, I think I'm a bit out of your age range, anduhyeahbye!"

With that, he ducked out the door, and Artemis listened to him gallop full-tilt away down the hallway. He didn't even fully close it behind him. ‘How rude.’

Sighing, the Sergeant got back down on all fours, stretched out and yawned, then walked over to gently push the door shut. "Ah, well. They may not always be the gentlecolts in the morning."

Glamerspear stood up in her seat, exploding into emotion as she leaned on the back of the sofa.

"Are you kidding?! That pump-and-dump chump just called you an old mare!"

Shrugging, Ebonshield walked over to the washroom. "So? I have already obtained what I wanted out of him -- even if I was hoping for a little more in the morning."

‘Oh, my... Well, that just confirmed it.’

Artemis felt her blushing reach maximum levels.

Surprisingly, Glamerspear didn’t seem to be falling into the accusation that their batpony associate was actually interested in that young colt's blood. But she was still gawking in disbelief at the Sergeant's casual handling of everything.

"You don't care that your one-night-stand just trashed you like that?"

With a smile, the Eb raised an amused eyebrow. "No? What matter? I went to the club last night looking for some companionship. I found some, if admittedly in the bottom of a bottle of cider at the end of the night. I know I am foolish to even wonder if there is still attraction in the morning, but there is no harm in the checking -- unless you allow this to hurt you, which certainly I do not. Clearly that niño does not know what a real mare can do for him."

That just set Glamerspear sitting back down again, flabbergasted.

"... I apologize if my 'date' disturbed you gentlemares. It would be best if I take a shower, now. I am sure the combination of smells on me does not make for an odour pleasant."

As she entered the washroom and shut the door, Artemis covertly sniffed the air. There was indeed more than a whiff of cider in the air, mixed with body sweat, and another smell she couldn't quite place...

Until she did, which pushed her cheeks past their previous height of rosiness.

She could hear the shower turn on, even as the gears started to spin in her head. That would explain all that flapping and shaking she’d heard last night.

And the grunts.

And the hissing.

And the moans.

‘Whooo, is it hot in here or is it just me?’

She stared blankly down at the empty sheet of paper on the table. It was impossible to write her letter to Huckleberry Pudding now. Even if she could, instead of the Gala invitation, all she could think of was that pretty red barn of his.

And him taking her out back behind it.

And him roughly tossing the pegasus backwards into the hay pile, her forehooves drawn up to her chest and her wings erect.

Then he would fling off his straw hat, spit out the long blade of grass in his mouth, tear off his blue overalls, and leap in on top of her, his brown hair rubbing against her brow as she hooked her forelegs over his shoulders, his taut, muscled farmer's chest rubbing against her chest tuft as she locked her hind legs around his firm, slim hips, and then...

"Sparks, for Celestia's sake, would you get your damn wing-boner out of my face?"

‘Oh, hailstorms!’

Glamerspear was sitting on the sofa, frowning at Artemis, hooves crossed in front of her, and the pegasus’ primary feathers were pressing into her snout.

‘Wow. I didn't realize my wings could extend that far.’

It actually took a concerted effort to fold everything up once more. She felt a bit of pain in her shoulders from the extreme extension.

"Sorry, Lily."

Uncrossing her hooves, her comrade sighed, blinked, and then stared dumbly forward at the coffee table, like she was trying to puzzle something out.

"... Is something else wrong?"

She nodded her head repeatedly, then turned up to look at Artemis, still nodding. "I think I agree with Ebonshield, Sparks."

She furrowed her brow. "Is that a problem?"

Her nods turned into shakes. "I don't know. I just can't believe that I'm taking sides with a batpony..." She shrugged. "... I mean, I would have beat his ass for saying something like that, casual encounter or no, but I kinda admire her laissez-faire handling of it, y'know?"

"Is that what that's called? A 'casual encounter'?"

Glamerspear smiled. "Sure, a casual encounter. A one-night stand. Wham-bam-thank-you-ma'am. Dine 'n' dash. Meet 'n' greet. Hump 'n' dump. Buck 'n' Duck. There's plenty of slang terms for it..."

She lifted an eyebrow and her smile turned into a smirk. "... Why, you interested? Want to go out clubbing tonight?"

Before Artemis could open her mouth, Glamerspear waved a hoof. "... I'm just teasing, Sparks. I know you're joined at the hip to your country colt. Besides, I'm not gonna be making any moves, in a nightclub or otherwise, with all this junk stuck on my head."

There was a knock at the main door, and Glamerspear sighed. "... I bet that's Mister Congeniality himself again. He's probably forgotten something in his haste to leave."

She looked up at the pegasus. "... You'd better answer it, Sparks; I'd just sock him in the teeth for what he said."

Getting to her hooves, Artemis walked over to the door. Expecting the same dishevelled young stud, she opened the door wide, barely paying attention.

Two piercing yellow slits stared out from the darkness before her.

She stifled a gasp, reeling backwards in shock.

There was a steamy snort from a pair of nostrils, and then a flash of white teeth.

It actually took a second for Artemis’ eyes to adjust and make out the shadowy figure at the door. Underneath pitch-black leather armor that tightly wrapped around his eyes and snout, and clothed under an equally black cloak that shrouded his head and draped down to envelop the carpet, and, indeed, the whole doorway in shadow, the imposingly rigid, black colt that stood before her was, unmistakably, one thing she absolutely did not expect to find knocking at the door just now:

Another batpony!

Showing his ivory teeth again, he spoke with a heavy accent, like Ebonshield's, but far thicker, which was emphasized by his deep, rich voice.

"Ay yam Marcos, and ay yam herrre to see Sargento Ébanoscudo - Serrrgeant Ebonshield."

Suggested interlude music: Cliff Eidelman - 'Guess Who's Coming', from 'Star Trek VI: The Undiscovered Country' [1991]
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q1_zEGmwGK0

Chapter 34

Honour Bound

There hadn't been any noise from upstairs during Corporal Bound’s shift; no further embarrassments appeared to be on schedule for today. With Sparkshower having arrived back late, and Glamerspear still out this morning, she’d stopped by the infirmary to check in on her unicorn squad-member.

The nurse had told Honour that Glamerspear would be discharged when she woke up; the unicorn was ordered to stay spellbound until her mana levels had returned to normal. That would definitely put her completely off any kind of real duty for a few more days, but at least the prognosis for her was positive.

Honour’s own, however, was still tenuous. Her misjudgement at the Battle of Newstirrup Bridge gnawed at her ever harder.

Glamerspear had, for all intents and purposes, mana-burned herself to death trying to recklessly gun down Kilfeather. Only Anonymous' rule-bending intervention had allowed her to triumph; only the potent force of the ancient MXP Totem had let her live to tell the tale.

Despite Sparkshower's strident defense of her decision, she felt more than ever that her decision to apologize to the Royal Engineer was the correct one. If only she had put the effort in to make studied research beforehand, this mess could have been avoided.

Over at his large bureau, the Royal Engineer was furiously scribbling away. Honour had to admire his work ethic; after being whisked away from his native land to a world so alien to his own, he'd been almost exiled in that very room, day after day, working first on that theory book of his, and now he was on to some new project unknown to her. Whereas there she was, bitter and sardonic after four half-hearted years, just because the Royal Guard hadn't turned out to be all it was cracked up to be.

Or was it just that he was doing something he really enjoyed, while Honour (with the possible exception of the past week-and-a-half) mostly wasn’t?

It was hard to tell.

She heard a cracking noise from her left and looked over at her charge. He’d put down his quill and was flexing his fingers and neck. Running one hand through his hair, he picked up the sheet sitting before him in the other, and stood up to look it over, holding it up to the morning sunlight streaming in through the glass windowed wall behind him. From Honour’s vantage point, it looked like a blueprint of sorts, though not for anything that looked like a building as far as she could tell.

After a few paces back and forth, she saw him nod to himself and fold the large paper up neatly. Then he bent over to grab a manila envelope from a desk drawer, stuffed the document into it, along with a few others, and set to work sealing and addressing it. Honour suspected she may have been about to head out to do some messenger work. His package ready for delivery, the Royal Engineer stood up and walked toward her.

"I could use a little walk, Corporal. Care to accompany me to the mail room?"

"Of course, sir." Stepping to one side, she opened the way for him.

Before reaching the door, he stopped in front of the mirror beside it to adjust his outfit. He tightened his tie and corrected its slant, brushed some lint off of his shoulders, and then donned his jacket off of its hook. Finding nothing else to fix, he stared at his reflection for a moment.

"Oh, by the way, did you have the chance to start on that book of mine, Corporal?"

Honour felt that she probably shouldn't mention that she’d been tearing through it during every free moment she had, despite the considerable headache that some of the sections had given her. Still, a bit of detail would be better than a bland 'Yes sir.'

"Yes, sir. I was just reading about steam boilers yesterday."

A smile materialized on her VIP's face. It was kind of heartwarming to know he took pride in his work. Well, this assignment was all about pleasing the Very Important Pony, after all, and a little honesty went a long way.

"And how are you finding the going, so far?"

She supposed that a little more honesty wouldn’t kill anypony.

"Some sections are tougher than others, sir."

That got her a smart nod. "To be expected. Let me know if you need any help; I'm sure I'll be publicly fielding questions and issuing clarifications on it for some time to come."

Straightening up, he turned away from the mirror. Honour was just about to open the door to let him out before her, when there was a knock on it. The corporal cocked an eyebrow at the coincidence, and even the Royal Engineer looked a bit surprised, but he motioned for her to answer it. Pulling on the handle, she cracked it open to reveal a palace messenger, impeccably dressed in his brass-buttoned red jacket and matching forage cap.

"A calling card for the Royal Engineer, Ma'am, begging an audience in half an hour. I'm to await his Lordship's reply."

He passed her a hoof-sized rectangle of stiff card-stock with a small embossed floral print. Nodding as she closed the door, Honour flipped it over to examine its writing.

‘Now that's interesting.’

She looked up at the Royal Engineer. "Sir. Would you accept a distinguished caller in half an hour?"

"I don't see why not. Rules of society being what they are, will we need your compatriots upstairs here for it?"

"Yes, sir, I think we will."

She held the card out for her VIP to take, making sure that the face bearing the caller's name was visible. Before he even grasped it, his eyebrows went up, and he nodded.

"Well... I suppose we'll save the mail run for later."

After he gave the corporal a nod, she opened the door again, passed the Royal Engineer’s acknowledgement to the messenger, and headed upstairs to gather the quaternion.

Artemis Sparkshower

Specialist Artemis Sparkshower was trying her best not to stare at the cloaked batpony colt standing just inside the door into their shared quarters.

Ebonshield really ought to have asked him to wait outside.

Or to come back in a few minutes.

But she hadn't.

When Artemis had knocked on the washroom door and told Ebonshield about her caller, she'd asked Artemis to let him in, saying she wouldn't be long. Now he was just standing there, still as a statue, and still shrouded in his long black robes. He had, however, thrown back his hood. That hadn’t really revealed anything, though, since he still had on the leather chanfron, which covered almost his entire head, save for his eyes and chin. About all Artemis could tell was that his coat was extremely dark; maybe not black, but dark enough so as to be indistinguishable. There was the hint of a short shock of white hair out the back of his head-armor, as well. But besides that and his slow, steady breathing, he might as well have been a statue, for all the movement or noise he made while standing there.

With nothing else to do, Artemis had gone back to sitting in front of her blank sheet again, trying to think of how to write her letter to Huckleberry.

No, that wasn’t true.

She was using the letter as a pretext to steal glances at the strange visitor.

Over on the sofa, Glamerspear was lounging on her back, pretending to read a magazine. In reality, she was staring even more unabashedly at the batpony who’d called himself 'Marcos.' Eb had seemed to recognize the name, though.

At last, the shower stopped running. Eb should be out soon, and then this strange tension could be dispelled. Her visitor seemed to sense this, too, and Artemis watched him as he straightened his neck.

‘Was he scowling?’ It was difficult to read his face, with his eyebrows obscured by the helmet. Against the black leather, only his yellow irises and white teeth stood out.

Moments passed in more silence. Artemis could hear Ebonshield brushing her hair. Was that the final step, or was she going to put on some makeup as well?

The answer was clearly 'no,' because the door opened, and the recently-added batpony Sergeant emerged. She didn’t delay one second, and neither did he, for they both locked eyes and walked straight at each other. Artemis could have sworn they were going to collide, but they somehow stopped so that their snouts were bare millimetres from touching.

Huh. Maybe the whole 'get right in your face' thing was actually a batpony custom for Eb, rather than a 'Drill Sergeant' one.

After inspecting -- maybe even sniffing? -- each other for a few seconds, Ebonshield spoke up, her lips almost touching the colt's.

"Marcos."

He inhaled sharply, flaring his nostrils underneath the leather mask. "Pureza. ¡Así que te encuentro aq--"

Without budging an inch, she interrupted him before he could continue on. "Do not be rude, Marcos. We are in the presence of those who do not speak our language. Use the common tongue of Equestria."

He squinted, and his head moved a tiny fraction in Artemis’ direction, as if he’d only just then acknowledged the existence of Glamerspear and herself.

Returning to his snout-to-snout pose, he replied, again in his thick batpony accent. "Then perrrhaps we ssould take thees conbersation in prribate?"

It was clear that speaking Equestrian was a major struggle for him; his deep baritone voice tripped on almost every single word.

Ebonshield blinked slowly, in a manner that could only be deliberate. "No. These are my Battle-Siblings here, Marcos. Anything you wish to say to me, you may say in front of them."

Again, he shot a glance in Artemis’ direction, and she could almost feel the daggers flying out from his eyes. She felt a sudden need to duck under the table, out of sight.

At least Glamerspear had a magazine to cower behind! Not that she was doing it, though -- even with her horn shackled up and encased in a lead cone, she was boldly watching the scene unfold before her. Like the pegasus, she was far too intrigued to dare to look away.

Marcos shifted his jaw around and took a deep breath. "So. Thees ees hhow eet ees. Hhow you haff fallen, I hhad to see it forr myself. You deeshonourr yourrself by leabing the rrookerry. You betrray your ancestorrs by bolunteering for this pointless assignment. You brring grreat sshame upon yourr house by caborting arround Canterrlot dens of the night..."

As her counterpart lay into her, Ebonshield's face was completely unreadable. But Artemis could still feel the stinging points driving into her. Actually, he might’ve even had actual, real daggers under that cloak of his! And there she was without her usual, sixteenth-of-an-inch of bronze plate to protect her. Glamerspear had no magic either, and even the Sergeant was completely naked of any weaponry.

Artemis suddenly felt very vulnerable.

"... You abase yourr caste by mating with that spec of dust I saw leabe here before I arribed. And, eef this was not all, now you darre to name as Battle-Siblings thees Prreesonnerrs of the Su-"

Before he could finish his sentence, Sergeant First Class Ebonshield whipped her head forward, slamming her naked forehead into his leather-armored one. As she connected with a loud CRACK, both Artemis and Glamerspear gasped and jumped in their seats. Despite his protection, the force was enough to stagger Marcos down to his elbows, and he took several seconds to recover.

Lily scrambled to her hooves, taking up a ready position beside Artemis -- but there was no follow-up. Instead of initiating a fight, Marcos just stood up on all fours again, resuming his same position in front of Ebonshield - who now had a streak of blood running down her brow, dribbling down her cheeks.

"By the accursed shadows, Marcos, if you speak that way about my comrades-in-arms again, I will feed you my wings with the blessings of the Mother-of-Stars!"

‘What in the name of Celestia did that mean?’

Across the room, just in front of Ebonshield, Marcos was breathing deeply.

After a pause, he spoke. "Eef you are set on this path of self-destrruction, then my brreath is wasted on a sshadow, and I sshall leef."

"¡Vete!"

Snarling, Marcos backed away from Sergeant Ebonshield toward the door. Before he turned around, Artemis caught a glimpse of red on his chin, too. Seems like, in spite of his armour, her Sergeant gave as good as she got.

With a final dagger-filled glare at everypony in the room, the furious batpony colt exited their common room as silently as he entered it.

As the door closed behind him, Artemis felt herself able to breathe again. Glamerspear casually clambered back onto the sofa and picked up her magazine. Ebonshield remained where she was, posed like a statue, staring intently at the door.

Lily noisily nodded her horn-cone in its direction. "Jilted ex-coltfriend?"

It took a second, but eventually, Artemis watched as the Sergeant relaxed her shoulders and slacked her posture. In that brief moment, despite her athletic body, Ebonshield had looked a lot older to her.

Stepping away from the impromptu field of battle, she chuckled. "Marcos, an ex-coltfriend? Hah, no..." With a smile on her face, their batpony comrade sat down on the sofa, not far away from the unicorn who bore her so much hatred just two days ago.

"... This was my brother."

‘What!’

Artemis’ surprise was mad plain. "You just head-butted your brother??"

Eb shrugged. "Yes? He was being unspeakably rude. What would you have done instead?"

Artemis drew in a deep breath and hesitated, not sure how to answer.

But Lily piped up for her.

"Me, I would have given him a hoof to the face."

At that, the Sergeant started to laugh awkwardly. "Shadows below! I did not wish to kill him! He is still my brother."

Glamerspear narrowed her eyes. "What, are your hooves registered deadly weapons or something? I'm talking about a simple back-hoof slap."

She smiled back. "Oh, of course, of course. The blow itself is not what I mean..."

With a sigh, Ebonshield tapped the inside of her right foreleg with her left forehoof. "... Amongst members of my kind, the forelegs often bear a hidden blade. To bring up a hoof in anger is to signal a fight to the death, as surely as if we had both stepped back and drawn knives."

‘This is getting really confusing!’

"So you butt heads instead? Wait..." Artemis had a feeling that she’d just figured something out. "... Is that why you always stand so close when speaking with us? So you can head-butt us if we say something you don't like?"

Glamerspear appeared to be in awe of her powers of deduction.

But Ebonshield looked aghast. "Shadows, no! That would be appallingly rude!"

‘Aw, shucks.’

It made sense to her, at least.

"... I stand close so that you can head-butt me if I say something out of the line."

‘What?’

"What?"

"What?" Even Glamerspear voiced her confusion on that one.

But Sergeant Ebonshield just shook her head, suddenly appearing very tired, as she waved a hoof in the air before her. "Gentlemares, we are tip-hoofing very close to the rules 'Do Not Ask, Do Not Tell' -- and the Night Guard is sworn not to tell, just as you are sworn not to ask."

She sighed. "... I apologize if we do not understand our customs mutual, but I am the one who should learn yours, not the other way around. You should not have to deal with any more of my kind, after all. We are the outsiders, here."

There was a moment where that pronouncement hung in the air, the weight of it not quite yet realized.

'We are the outsiders, here.' What did that even mean? Weren't the batponies a part of Equestria, even if they were still a bit of an unspoken secret? But how could they be a part of it if they feel like outsiders? It didn't make any sense.

All of a sudden, Glamerspear sat up, energetic. "No, buck that, Sarge! This isn't DADT -- DADT is us getting a glimpse of a bat-wing down in the catacombs, or spreading rumors about blood-sucking ponies around a campfire -- not having a live one serving in our crew! You're here as a full member of our quaternion; right, Sparks?"

The unicorn turned to Artemis, and she gave Glamerspear a firm, crisp nod. "Right."

Returning her gaze to Ebonshield, Glamerspear carried on. "Right! So, I'm not saying you owe us anything, Sergeant, but don't try to hide behind rules that don't apply any more! Sparks, and Honour, and me -- we've got to deal with you, one way or another, same as we do each other, and the only way we can do that and not go nuts is with some friggin' honesty, damn the bucking rules."

Now this was the aggressively friendly Glamerspear Artemis remembered from their first meeting, and she eagerly nodded her head in agreement.

Glamerspear pointed a hoof at the Sergeant. "And anyways, by DADT, you sure as buck wouldn't be allowed to go out clubbing two nights in a row, let alone bring an earth-pony stud back home as a booty prize!"

Sergeant Ebonshield, so recently victorious in a battle of foreheads, and so recently deflated from their social misunderstandings, took a breath and seemed to recover. "This is true, I suppose. All right; to the shadows with the rules, then. At least, a few more questions about the social customs will not break any state secrets..."

Running a hoof through her tall mane, she leaned back on the sofa, crossing her hind legs in front of her. "... What else do you want to know?"

Glamerspear turned back to Artemis. "I know you remembered every word of her argument with Marcos, Sparks, so why don't you fire away?"

She blushed.

‘Aww, go on, you.’

"Hah, not every word..."

Like, ninety-eight percent.

Ninety-nine, maybe.

What? She was a good recon guardspony, after all.

"...Maybe we'll come back to the head-butting thing later."

Ebonshield bobbed her head. "This is a little complicated, I admit."

What was the most confusing thing about what just happened? Her brother came and scolded her for leaving her post in the Night Guard, for taking this position, for going out at night and for bringing home a 'casual encounter'; that much was clear. But there were layers of meaning in what he'd said, and it was hard to know what was significant and what was maybe just a poor or unusual choice of words. Maybe it would be best to focus on the obvious stuff, first.

"How about 'shadows'? Both of you seemed to use it as a curse-word."

"Yes. 'Darkness' is also such a word," Eb replied.

Glamerspear shook her head. "But you're bat-ponies. Don't you come out at night, when it's dark anyways?"

Eb tilted her head upwards. "The night, full of the stars and sometimes also the moon, is only dark if you have lived your whole life in the sun."

‘That's... okay, that makes sense,’ Artemis supposed. If 'darkness' and 'shadows' could be curse words to them, though, then who knows what any other word could mean?

"Before you knocked into him, Marcos was going to call us Prisoners of the something...?"

Ebonshield leaned back. "He was going to say, 'Prisoners of the Sun.' A very offensive term for all non-batponies."

Artemis’ snarky unicorn pal piped up again. "I'm not a prisoner of anything."

Eb leaned over and looked her in the eyes. "I did not say that you were..." Then, with a playful smile, she tilted up to look at Glam's horn. "... although the chains around your horn might speak otherwise. But this is nonetheless one of our insults."

Artemis interjected with another question. "And it's so bad that you not only felt you had to clobber him, you also threatened to 'feed' him your wings?"

Eb smirked. "Oh, that is merely a poetic way of saying I would rip out his throat."

‘Uh.’

Glamerspear’s expression looked varying degrees of shocked and disturbed, and the two specialists exchanged glances.

‘Right… moving right along.’

Artemis blinked, and took a breath. "The only other really confusing phrase I can think of was when you said you'd do it with the 'blessings' of the 'Mother-of-Stars.' Who's that?"

Now it was Ebonshield's turn to look shocked. "Oh. Did I say that? I should not have said that..." She actually turned away from the others, embarrassed. "... This is a bad one for me to have used. Err... Explaining this is going to maybe break some rules."

‘Aw, darn.’

"I mean, if it's that big of a deal, I suppose..."

Even Glamerspear seemed to agree "Yeah, yeah, Sarge, if it really bugs you."

Honesty was all well and good, but Artemis didn’t want to get into trouble. Well, not too much trouble, at any rate.

Out of nowhere, Ebonshield leaned forward and loudly tapped her forehoof on the coffee table. "No. You were correct, Specialist Glamerspear. We cannot function together if we do not understand each other..."

Leaning back, she recomposed herself. "... Some things we are sworn not to speak, but my brother upset me greatly, and in my anger to chide him, I broke the rules..."

Ebonshield looked at each of them in turn. "... You are not to repeat what I say now, do you understand? 'Mother-of-Stars'..."

She took a deep breath.

"...This is our name for the Princess Luna."

‘Princess Luna?’

"Princess Luna?"
"Princess Luna?"

Just then, there was a knock at the door. Before anypony could get up to answer it, Corporal Bound pushed it open and walked in, still holding the door handle.

"Oh, good, you're all here. I need everypony -- including you, Glamerspear -- suited up and ready downstairs in the Royal Engineer's chambers, on the double. He's receiving an important visitor in less than half an hour, and we all need to be there."

‘Aw, but I had so many more questions to ask!’

And it seemed like very short notice.

"Who is he receiving?"

Honour shot a telling glance at Eb. "Her Majesty Princess Luna."

Chapter 35

Honour Bound

For a last-minute, late-morning meeting in the Royal Engineer's chambers, this was going to be quite the event. Sitting beside Corporal Bound was a stone-faced Royal Guard of the Household Division, in his gleaming armor and bearing a short, gilt bronze spear.

His identical twin, at least by the look of him, sat beside Specialist Sparkshower, on the other side of Anonymous' double doors, striking an equally imposing figure. Despite his size, Sparkshower managed to look even larger and more impressive in her heavy armor and freshly-cleaned blue caparison -- and her longspear was easily twice the size of his shorter weapon.

On the other side of the sitting area, Specialist Glamerspear and Sergeant First Class Ebonshield sat at attention, guarding the blind-corner gap in the panel partition wall that led to the Royal Engineer's sleeping and dressing area. Their counterparts from the Household Division stood not directly beside them, but further down the walls, as if marking out the corners of the living area.

Two more of their kin, unaccompanied, were posted at the glass entrance to the patio. There were yet another two at the opposite wall, behind the dining table. Not to mention the other four guards just behind the corporal, on the other side of the double doors.

Ten guards in total, and the Princess wasn't even there yet!

And Honour was certainly looking forward to Her Majesty's arrival. She’d met her before, of course; every pony that passed through horseshoe camp in the Royal Guard got to shake hooves with both of Equestria's monarchs on graduation day. And she had escorted VIPs to both day and night court before, too. But from what she’d heard, meeting Princess Luna in private was a different thing altogether. Because the Princesses -- both of them -- had a presence.

It was hard to describe; everypony who experienced it spoke of it differently, be it in letters, books, songs, or poems, going back centuries. Some said that it was as if all the colors of the world somehow became brighter and more brilliant while in the company of one of the Princesses. Others, that sounds became rich and crisp, accompanied by a deep echo that seemed to rise from the very earth. A few said that ordinary smells were made strange and intense, with a hint of incense and perfume that was impossible to place, let alone reproduce. Still others argued that it was not so much a thing seen, heard, or smelled, but rather tasted -- like a refreshing nectar, soothing and sweet to drink.

Whatever the way, all agreed that it could be both entrancing and terrifying at the same time.

Was it all just their imagination? A product of their own excitement at being in an intimate setting with one of the immortal rulers of Equestria? Or was it perhaps a second-order effect of the Princess' supreme sorcerous abilities, little more than the background radiation of magical energies by beings powerful enough to move the very heavens?

Whatever it was, all agreed that the Majesty of the two Princesses went beyond a mere style of address; it was a part of them, like something in their blood. And Princess Celestia, after a thousand years of caring for her little ponies, knew how to disarm visitors by turning hers off.

Princess Luna, it was said, did not.

She rarely saw visitors alone, and the power was known to be lessened in larger gatherings; it was only when in private company did the fantastic effects become manifest.

Anonymous, the Royal Engineer of Equestria, stood in the middle of his living-room, dressed in his morning coat, his hands folded behind his back.

Did he know what he was going to face? Should Honour, as the leader of his VIP guard detachment, have told him?

She hadn't thought of it until then, and anyways he'd been in the presence of the Royal Sisters before -- in restricted company, too, in the Blue Chamber of the Privy Council. But was that enough to trigger the effect? The Privy Council members certainly never spoke of feeling anything strange, but they were sworn to secrecy. Had he ever had to face one of the Princesses by himself? And if so, had he experienced the awe and entrancement that other ponies did?

Had he ever misstepped and upset one of them, and felt the faintest pinch of what only the most wretched ponies, few as they were, had described as the dread gaze of disapproval? Did he feel the pull one was said to experience upon receiving a Royal Summons? Would Luna's delicate floral-print calling card even count as such?

In truth, did their powers even affect him at all?

A non-pony?

An alien not of this world?

When he slept, could Luna step into his dreams as effortlessly as she did any other's?

Questions raced through Honour’s mind even as the Royal Engineer's lighthouse clock ticked away the seconds. Glancing around the room at her comrades and Her Majesty's escorts, she inhaled deeply, straightening her neck as she heard hoofsteps behind her.

This might just be the most exciting thing she’d ever experienced.

Maybe even that she would ever experience.

One of the great mysteries of the world; one of the great magics of a magical land. It's not an accomplishment, really, but it is an honor, and a privilege. The Corporal normally didn’t get this worked up about matters like this. But the opportunity to serve Equestria's immortal rulers, the closest equivalents to living gods...

Well, it may seem a bit like silly spirituality to some, but it was one of the things that drew Honour into service in the Royal Guard in the first place.

There was a clicking noise behind her, and the door-handles flapped down, worked from the outside. A moment later, both double doors gracefully swung open.

Honour snapped to a hoof-over-heart salute, as did her Household analogs in their gilded armor. All she could see beside her was the solid slab of white-painted oak, divided by raised moldings into six rectangular panels. To her front, Honour saw the Royal Engineer drop his hands to his sides to bow, and three of the four guards along the back wall -- Glamerspear and the two Household Division sentries -- all gave a firm hoof-over-heart salute, while Ebonshield bowed her head completely to the floor. Honour suspected that this meeting had something to do with Ebonshield, and so far she was proving her right. Everypony knew, regardless of 'Don't Ask Don't Tell,' that batponies and the Princess of the Moon were linked, somehow.

Beside her, the hoofsteps stopped, just outside of her sight, their owner still obscured behind the large door.

Honour didn’t feel anything yet.

"Announcing Her Majesty, Princess Luna of Equestria."

Apparently, that was just her herald, who stepped into the room and off to one side after making her announcement. Wearing no armor, she instead had a caparison of deep blue, embroidered on both sides with a large white, upturned, half-moon crescent -- Luna's cutie mark.

There was another set of hoofsteps. Slower, and more deliberate; made by somepony with longer legs.

On the floor beneath the Corporal, her eyes caught a faint whisper of light peeking between the bottom of the door and the rug beneath. It flickered and danced subtly, tinted with blue.

The hoofsteps stopped, although the light-play continued; now the room seemed even quieter than it was before. Beyond the coffee table, the sofas, the easy chairs, and the lighthouse clock, which all seemed a little bit further away than they had been moments ago, Honour looked for a reaction in Glamerspear's face.

She was still saluting, eyes level, face impassive. To conceal her spellbinders, she'd wrapped her horn in a silky white ribbon, with a bow at the base for good measure. It was still pretty obvious that there was something going on, but at least it stopped the chains jangling whenever she moved her head. And was that the Silver Ram around her neck, on its white-and-blue ribbon? Honour hadn't noticed that she'd put on her ceremonial medal, earlier. This was certainly as good a time as any for her to display that. Had she met the Princesses in private upon joining the Order of the Ram? Perhaps this meeting would be nothing new to her.

"Your Majesty." Still bowed over, Anonymous welcomed her.

When her reply came, her voice was gentle and soft, a far cry from when she had first returned and spoken only in shouts. "We bid thee good morning, Anonymous, and beseech thee to stand."

The Royal Engineer rose up straight again, wearing a pleasant smile on his face. Gesturing at the sofas, he beckoned her in. "Thank you, Ma'am. May I invite Your Majesty to join me in the sitting room for coffee and biscuits?"

There was a lighthearted chuckle from behind the door, and the blue glow moved forward. "Hah! Thou art as well-mannered as our sister makes thee out to be, Anonymous. We shall join thee, indeed."

Honour saw Luna's herald salute as her sovereign stepped into the room, preceded by her flowing, rippling, blue mane.

It was a bright, sunny day outside, and the Royal Engineer's chambers were amply lit by the wall full of windows on one side, but somehow, in spite of its dark color, Princess Luna's mane appeared brighter still, glimmering in the light.

And then the Princess herself appeared from behind the open door, stepping forward with enthusiasm and a strange, unearthly grace. She was beautiful and entrancing, but Honour was still waiting for the other horseshoe to drop -- and for the magical presence to kick in.

As she made her way to one of the sofas, her herald bowed in greeting. That was the cue for Honour, the rest of her quaternion, and for the Household Division cavalry to all end their collective salute, and a slight clattering of arms and armor ensued just as the Princess took her seat.

With a nod from the sovereign, the herald backed away towards the doors, exiting the room.

The guardspony beside Honour clapped his hooves against the floor in place, strode forward, presumably encountered his opposite from the far side of the doors, before both of them backed out of the room as well, shutting the double doors behind them. Honour no longer had an obstructed view. Six Household guardsponies, plus her quaternion, remained as retainers in the large, two-story chamber.

As the Sovereign of the Night passed the coffee table, Honour got the measure of her. Anonymous stood a full head taller, but her mane and tail alone made her seem to impose upon more space than her alien VIP. There was a difference in their appearances, too. The Royal Engineer looked contained and controlled, his movements precise, like the clock at the rear of the sitting area; what little whimsy he allowed himself was constrained to his facial expressions. Her Majesty, on the other hand, seemed to flow like a river: graceful, but ever-shifting and ever-moving. Even though they both wore smiles that seemed genuine, there was an inherent tension of forms between them.

Princess Luna seated herself, lounging on one of the long sofas. Her mane and tail continued to float ethereally in the air around her, as if she was actually underwater.

Even though Her Majesty was certainly capable of doing it herself with telekinesis, Anonymous fastidiously busied himself with pouring her a cup of coffee, arranging a spoon, a pair of biscuits and two cubes of sugar around the edge of a saucer, then holding it in one hand as he picked up the creamer with the other. Stepping around the table, he bent over to present it to her, and she took it in her magical grasp, dispensing the cream, adding the sugar, and stirring to suit, before returning the creamer into his waiting hands, whereupon he returned it to the silver tray on the table. It was a kind of bizarre ballet, full of needless actions by Anonymous, as if he refused to allow the Princess to serve herself.

And strangely, considering her well-known fiercely independent streak, Luna seemed to allow it.

As the Royal Engineer served himself as well, Honour hazarded a glance around the room. All six of the Household Division guards were as still as statues, eyes staring straight forward and appearing to look at nothing, even though they probably saw everything. Nearby, Sparkshower was holding up well, a surprisingly grim and determined look on her face.

She was taking this seriously. That was good, because in spite of the elaborate coffee ceremony Honour had just witnessed, it was serious. The Princesses didn't call privately upon their councillors, even members of the Blue Chamber, unless there was something which required their personal attention. To do otherwise would be a waste of their extraordinarily valuable time.

Across the room, Glamerspear was doing her best to appear detached and a part of the scenery, but Honour knew she was watching everything carefully. And besides, nopony puts on a war medal in order to not be seen.

Honour’s recent-arrival sergeant seemed to be doing her level best to avoid looking at Luna, as if laying eyes upon the Princess was a cardinal sin. Given the rumors she'd heard about batponies and their relationship with Her Majesty, it might just be.

At last, the Royal Engineer took a seat, and, with a brief nod of acknowledgement between them, Honour’s VIP slurped coffee with one the most important and powerful ponies in the whole world.

After taking a sip, Luna lowered her cup back on the saucer, and then looked down at the coffee table -- almost like she was avoiding the Royal Engineer's gaze. But that would be ridiculous, wouldn't it?

Against the silence, Anonymous forced a smile and leaned forward slightly in his seat. "I hope the coffee is to Your Majesty's liking."

The Princess looked up at him to reply, but then almost immediately lowered her gaze once more.

"It is; very much so."

Unbelievable. Was it Honour's VIP who was intimidating one of the rulers of Equestria, and not the other way around? Where was her Majesty, her Royal Presence? If Honour didn’t feel anything, did Anonymous?

The Royal Engineer took another slurp of his coffee, betraying no emotions, nor any sense that Luna's behavior was unusual in any way. But then again, he'd met her far more times than she had. Maybe this was normal for her. Maybe she really could 'turn off' her magical aura.

A few more moments passed in silence, before he politely prompted her once again. "To what do I owe the pleasure of Your Majesty's visit?"

Her Majesty, Princess Luna of Equestria, swallowed, sighed, and put down her cup on the table before her. Raising her neck up, she at last looked the Royal Engineer in the eyes.

"Thou hast suffered an inconvenience and a discomfiture because of our actions. We have come this morning to apologize and to make amends."

Frowning, Honour blinked, disbelieving what she’d just heard.

‘What in Tartarus is this, now?’

Chapter 36

Honour Bound

Corporal Honour Bound didn’t really know what to feel right then. Her Majesty Princess Luna of Equestria was there, in intimate company with her Very Important Pony (who isn't actually a pony), the Royal Engineer Anonymous. Even though there were barely more than ten ponies in the room, Honour didn't feel the royal Presence which had so awed every other pony lucky enough to meet her in private. The Princess had even been avoiding Anonymous' gaze. And now she’d said she was there to apologize to him?

While he retained his composure, the Royal Engineer wore a quizzical look. "I'm afraid Your Majesty has me at a loss. I don't recall being inconvenienced or discomfited recently in any manner."

Luna smiled apologetically. "Thou art too kind, to downplay things so. But surely thou dost not pretend to have suffered no embarrassments or disruptions since Monday?"

"No, Ma'am," Anonymous glanced around the room, looking at Honour and the rest of the quaternion. "Unless they've been concealed from me?"

The last question had been directed at Honour specifically, and since she also wasn’t quite sure what Her Majesty was getting at, she shook her head. "No, sir."

The Princess of the Moon briefly frowned in her direction, then turned to Sergeant First Class Ebonshield. "Stellar Ebonshield, is this true?"

What? Her Majesty didn’t believe her?

Honour felt a little insulted, but as the batpony bowed her head to answer, the corporal realized that, no, it had to be something else.

"Gracious Mother, there may have been some friction between members of the retinue, but this has been kept out of the sight of the Great Lord."

That statement seemed to surprise Princess Luna, and she was taken aback by it.

And what a curious way of addressing the Princess in the first place...

"Oh, well, in that case..." Shifting in her seat, Her Majesty turned to address Honour, face-to-face. As she looked the Princess in her dark, turquoise eyes, she felt... something.

A tingling in the back of her neck.

"We should address our apologies first to the forespony of thy quaternion."

She lifted an eyebrow ever so slightly, and the tingling feeling crept up behind Honour’s head.

She felt a strange compulsion to introduce herself. "Corporal Bound, Your Majesty." The head-bow she gave along with her name was automatic, but she felt like the answer itself was drawn out of her, almost pumped out, like water from a well. And the Princess was still looking her way.

But she shut those captivating eyes of hers, and gave her a nod in return that filled her with warmth. "Corporal Bound, thou hast our sincerest apologies for the disharmony and the awkwardness which were imposed upon thee..."

Princess Luna opened her eyes again, and almost the moment she did, the Royal Engineer's chambers felt like they'd grown darker. A cloud must have passed in front of the sun outside, she supposed.

Except she could still see light streaking in through the windows.

"Perhaps an explanation for how this came to pass will put us back in thy good graces."

The far wall, above and behind the short partition divider, grew darker as she spoke; almost reflexively, Honour swallowed.

But Princess Luna returned her gaze to the Royal Engineer, and the shadows seemed to recede. He was still sitting there, his coffee-cup on its saucer in his hands, calm and straight-faced, but Honour could tell he remained as confused as ever.

"Anonymous, when our beloved sister told us that she had assigned thee a retinue of guards, we were absolutely furious. Not because we felt thou wert undeserving -- far from it! In truth, we had recommended that such an honor be bestowed upon thee some time ago."

Pausing for a moment, the Princess of the Moon took a sip of coffee. “We were upset, because at that prior meeting, we had also proposed that one of thy retinue should be a batpony. This proposal our sister had forgotten when the time had finally come."

It almost looked like the Royal Engineer wanted to interject -- and it wouldn't be a surprise, because he had no idea of the significance of her first statement. But Honour’s VIP merely shuffled slightly in his seat, waiting for Her Majesty to finish. He’d probably have his explanation by the end of it, anyways. And, for that matter, so would she.

The Princess continued."She agreed that if thou shouldst require a fourth member, then that one may be as we had suggested, and we hastily made preparations to ensure that such a candidate be ready to enter thy service. But after issuing orders, we were pulled away to deal with other affairs, and only now, having returned, we find that thou hadst already made such a request, and that our servants did duly carry out their instructions in our absence, assigning you Stellar Ebonshield without us having had the opportunity to make proper introductions..."

Sighing, Her Majesty looked at each of the guards in turn, before settling upon the Royal Engineer. “...And for that, we are truly sorry."

There was a pause in the conversation, and then the Royal Engineer leaned forward, placing his drink on the coffee table before him. "Your Majesty, I feel that there's still something I'm missing here."

Before he could elaborate, she interrupted. "Yes, there is, and it is for this reason that thou wert the ideal subject for what is, we must admit, an experiment of sorts...” Once again, she scanned the room. “...Thou art unaware of the history surrounding batponies. Even the members of thy retinue, I wager, know only rumors and mythology, and the Royal Guard's orders enforcing their segregation from Equestrian society."

Nopony moved a muscle, which Princess Luna took as a confirmation of her statement. "... It was our intention that you all should have received the truth first, before then receiving a batpony in your midst. That moment has passed, which is our regret, so we have come to make amends, and to hastily try to repair our error."

Fixing her gaze on the Royal Engineer once more, the Princess continued, but, even though Her Majesty wasn’t looking at her, she could feel the tingling sensation at her nape again.

"But it was also our intention to consult with thee before proceeding, as well. So, we ask thee, Anonymous, Royal Engineer of Equestria: if thou hast now any objections to taking on the batpony Ebonshield as thy servant, speak them, lest secrets be shared which cannot be taken back."

Honour could feel the sensation growing, and she almost, almost, wanted to answer Princess Luna's question herself.

Shaking his head, the Royal Engineer shrugged his shoulders. "I have no objections. Sergeant Ebonshield has demonstrated no flaws, as far as I am able to judge. But, if Your Majesty will excuse me, I feel as though I don't know what I'm getting into."

Another cloud passed in front of the sun, and this time it was the ceiling that seemed to grow dark and distant. But the colors in the room remained as vivid as ever, instead of turning grey with the sky.

"Didst thou know into what thou wert getting when thou didst proclaim thy intention to 'industrialize' Equestria?"

The brilliant blue sky visible outside the windows turned a darker hue, and Honour could almost swear she saw stars out.

‘Now, in the middle of the day?’

‘Strange.’

Stranger still, Honour’s VIP seemed completely unfazed by the development. "I had some idea, though I've been surprised on several occasions, and this with the task only beginning. But I believed, and still believe, in its purpose: improving the lives of everypony in Equestria."

Honour struggled to listen to the conversation, but she watched, unbelieving, as the starry dark sky bled through the windows, and began to creep in along the ceiling of the Royal Engineer's chambers.

There was a motion in front of her, and she saw Princess Luna's mane bob in the air as the Princess of the Night leaned forward. "That belief is a powerful force, Anonymous. We ask thee to believe in our purpose as well, for it is nothing less than the rectification of a terrible and ancient sundering of Equestrian society."

Honour heard a faint clinking of armor beside her, and she saw Specialist Sparkshower shuffling their hooves. Although she was also trying to focus on what was happening in front of her, Honour saw the pegasus look nervously up at the ceiling. Even Glamerspear, across the room, was shooting glances upward. Only Ebonshield seemed to be either ignorant or unconcerned with the newly-ethereal nature of the roof above her head.

Honour felt her attention being drawn away from the mystery and its impact on her squadmates, and back towards the two sofas and the coffee-table between them.

The Royal Engineer was nodding. "Then I will believe, Your Majesty. Please, continue."

A hum started to become audible, though Honour couldn't place the source. It was low, and it pulsed in slow, rhythmic waves, like a force surrounding the chambers.

Princess Luna, joint ruler of Equestria, sat back up straight in her seat, and her ethereal mane followed with the same lethargy as the sonorous noise. "As Royal Guards, the ponies of your retinue are already keenly aware that anything they should learn about batponies is not to be shared. As a member of the Blue Council, we ask that you, too, swear to secrecy in this matter."

Incredibly, with the ceiling disappearing into the sky, which was completely the wrong shade of blue for almost noon, not to mention being full of stars, and the humming noise now surrounding the room, the Royal Engineer found himself able to casually gather up his drink and biscuits before replying.

"Your Majesty has my word."

With a startling snap, the hum ceased, and the ceiling disappeared entirely, only for the walls to be consumed by the starscape as well. Honour was now, for all intents and purposes, outside and under the night sky, though everything and everypony was illuminated as if in the midday sun -- with the sole exception of Princess Luna, who glowed with her own light, her blue coat radiant, her starry mane brilliant, and her white crescent cutie mark blinding. So captivating was the experience that Honour had to consciously think to breathe.

Recommended background music: Vangelis - 'Tales of the Future', from 'Blade Runner' [1982]
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Dwbr9EL0UJM

The Princess of the Night spoke, and the stars above echoed her words in chorus. "You all know the story of our banishment and our return; it, like so much other history, is written into the very stones and glass of the palace of Canterlot. But like those other legends, many details have been omitted..."

Her sovereign looked wistfully up at the stars above, her eyes darting from one to the next, as if greeting old friends.

"When we, in our bitterness, became Nightmare Moon and rebelled, we did not do so alone. Though most ponies shunned the moon, a few joined in our reverence for the night, and secretly preached our creed, growing in number until they were a force to be reckoned with. It was then that we struck, and they, calling themselves the League of Stars, followed us into rebellion and sedition. While we sought to wrest power from our sister through magic, they marched on the Castle of the Two Sisters, besieging its defenders."

Inexorably, Honour’s eyes were drawn to the heavens above, and she felt herself fixating on one star after the other -- and she knew in her heart, as she jumped from each one to the next, that she was following Luna's gaze. And the stars seemed to know it as well, for they twinkled, one by one, as if presenting and introducing themselves.

"In the end, we were defeated when our sister harnessed the Elements of Harmony, and our followers could not stand where we had fallen. We were banished to the moon, but to our followers, Celestia offered a choice: repent, and renounce our cause, or else join us in exile."

Honour took a breath -- it felt like the first one she’d had in minutes, even as the heavenly tour carried on.

"Many turned back to the light of the sun, and the harmony of day and night. But some refused her amnesty, and they chose to follow us to the end."

The stars clouded Honour’s eyes, filling her vision, and it all culminated in an almost-blinding flash that forced her to shut them for a moment. When she opened them again, she found herself free to look around once more.

Except that the stars had joined her -- falling from the sky like snowflakes. There was a muffled gasp from nearby, and Sparkshower must have been seeing the same thing Honour was, because her eyes followed the mysterious, descending brilliance as well.

"The League was made up of all three kinds of ponies -- earth, pegasus, and unicorn, for we had followers amongst them all. Though faithful, none of them were suited to life on the moon, harsh mistress that she is. So, with our final gasp of power, we prepared them, and rewarded them, blending their essences to erase all distinction, and creating a new race perfectly adapted to the eternal night that was our objective: the batponies. With only the briefest glimpse of what we had wrought, we collapsed into torpor, fated to slumber for a thousand years until prophecy decreed that we should awaken and renew our nightmarish quest."

Collecting on the floor like brilliant flecks of dust, the stars tumbled from the heavens in uncountable numbers, until the ground was as radiant as the heavens above. And at the center of everything, Princess Luna stood out like a beacon, eclipsing all other sources of light.

"While we slept, numb to the universe, these ponies built their lives on the moon. They were no longer the League of Stars -- they were the Children of the Stars, and we were their Mother. Their society was founded on one goal to the exclusion of all other considerations: preparing for the day when their creator would rise up, and lead them to triumph over the hated sun, and all of its 'prisoners' -- Celestia, the other ponies, and all of Equestria."

Honour inhaled, and she smelled the cool air of the night, fresh and crisp. The luminous star-dust came rushing into her nose, as well -- but it didn’t irritate or make her sneeze. Instead, it started to make her glow, too.

"The day finally came, not too long ago. And we did indeed rise up, full of fury and wrath, descending upon Equestria and triumphing over our sister. But while the Children of the Stars assembled themselves and made ready to be received as the guardians of a new order, we were defeated -- and the bitterness which had infected us was drawn out like poison from a wound."

All around Honour, everypony -- Sparkshower, Glamerspear, Ebonshield, Anonymous, and even Princess Luna's guards -- were glowing. Luminous beings surrounded her, and she felt a profound and sublime sense of serenity and peace.

"With that second summoning of the Elements of Harmony, the entire purpose of batpony society was upended; their creator -- their deity -- embraced the harmony that she had once sought to destroy. And a thousand years of their work suddenly came to nought."

Princess Luna sighed, and although it was utterly impossible, it felt like she was looking everyone in the eyes at the same time.

"Their confusion, their struggles, and their suffering, are our burden, for we bear responsibility. It is no easy task to argue against a thousand years of history, to lead them with us back into the light. And Equestria is an obstacle to be surmounted as well, for the ponies who witnessed the event passed down legends and myths about those who had betrayed them."

It didn’t feel like Honour was breathing any more.

It didn’t feel like she needed to breathe.

The force of Luna's will alone would sustain her.

"That is why we need thee, Anonymous. An outsider, unburdened by prejudice. And a reformer, seeking to make changes to society in thy own manner. In this small way, by taking one of their number as a retainer, thou mayest help us to bring these outcasts back into the light."

The harmony Honour felt overpowered all mortal wants and needs. She closed her eyes for just an instant, but when she opened them again, the scene she’d witnessed -- no, that she’d experienced -- faded before her.

She drew in breath, shallow at first, barely even moving her lungs, but then progressively growing deeper and deeper. The lights on the ground faded, until she could see the patterned carpet once more.

The creatures in the room faded, too -- more slowly than the ground, the brilliance living on a while longer, as if fueled by their life-force.

The sky closed up, and the ceiling came back into view.

Outside, the midday sun shone once more, and the windows radiated its heat and warmth.

And in front of her, Anonymous, the Royal Engineer of Equestria, finished his coffee and put the cup down, licking his lips after having apparently eaten his biscuits, all while Honour was having a transcendental experience in the intimate presence of one of her nation's immortal sorcerer-queens.

"I'll do whatever I can, Your Majesty."

Chapter 37

Honour Bound

Honour's whole squad was quieter than it had ever been. It was no surprise, though, considering the profound effect Princess Luna just had on all of them. How had Anonymous managed to just carry on a normal conversation after that? Was he that focused?

Or had he not even been affected?

And what about The Princess’ guards!

Were they simply inured to it after so many experiences?

These questions gnawed at Honour’s mind as she unwrapped the hayburger in front of her.

Her Majesty hadn't had anything specific for the Royal Engineer to do; she admitted to having enough troubles of her own just trying to figure out how to sway the holdouts to abandon the old ways. All she wanted from him -- and, by extension, from Honour, Sparkshower, and Glamerspear -- was to try Ebonshield out, and see if a batpony could work.

Despite Honour’s previous pessimism, now that she had some of Ebonshield’s backstory at least, she thought that maybe it could.

With no clear direction to follow, the Royal Engineer had given them an extended lunch and even cancelled the Sergeant's afternoon shift, saying it would be better served ‘allowing you all to get to know each other.’ It was a good idea, Honour had to admit, and Ebonshield immediately brought up her proposal for some joint training. Not a bad idea, either, although at the time, the corporal’s head was swimming so full of questions that she couldn’t imagine she’d get anything productive done besides pumping the Sergeant for all of the inside details about batpony society. After all, now she was in 'the know' about them, and Luna had left a lot of details unspoken, simply telling 'Stellar Ebonshield' that she could freely share anything she wanted with the four of them.

But since Ebonshield still couldn't show her face -- or her wings -- around the canteen without causing a ruckus, the Royal Engineer had suggested just ordering something in. When Honour had informed him the Guard wouldn't normally pay for that, he said to put it on his account.

"The Princesses have given me a salary, though I can't fathom what for, since almost everything I could want is already provided. We might as well use some of that for you all to say 'hello' to each other anew."

And he wouldn't take 'no' for an answer, not even to his order that they take an unheard-of two-hour lunch break.

"I'll send off the letter myself. The postmaster's not even outside the palace walls."

So there they all were, sitting around the card-table in the common area of their shared living quarters, each one with a STAGECOACH(™) double-hayburger-with-fries combo sitting in front of them.

There were a thousand questions Honour could ask.

Questions about batpony society, about Ebonshield’s childhood, and her training. About what happened up there when the news hit that Nightmare Moon was defeated. Even about the moon itself; what was it like up there?

The only real problem was, where would she even start?

Across the table from Honour, the no-longer-quite-so-mysterious batpony was about to take her first bite of the sandwich.

"So do you or don't you drink blood?"

And that idiot, 'shoe-as-buck, lead-cone-on-her-horn, spellbound Specialist sitting on Honour’s right had decided to open her mouth and let the words flow out without thinking.

"Lily!!" Even Sparkshower, on the earth pony’s left, scolded her for the question.

Honour shook her head in exasperation. "For buck's sake, Glamerspear."

But the target of her admonishment remained unrepentant. "What? Isn't this tell-all time? Come on, Sparks, don't tell me you haven't been wondering it, too?"

"Well... maybe a bit." Sparkshower shied away from the steely-eyed Ebonshield, embarrassed.

With a raised eyebrow, the Sergeant took a big bite out of her burger, chewing it noisily in Glamerspear's face as she spoke. "Specialist Glamerspear, are you worried that I am later going to sneak into your bedroom and bite you on the neck?"

Finishing the mouthful, she grinned. "... Or are you worried that I already have?"

That just got her a retaliatory cut-eye from the unicorn, and Ebonshield reeled back, laughing. When she was done, she wiped a tear from her eye. "No, Specialist, batponies do not drink blood. We eat food like you."

The Sergeant lifted one hoof in the air. "But I do not blame you for thinking this, because we ourselves have promoted this legend, in order to promote fear. Intimidation is a powerful ally, no?"

After some more squinting to see if Ebonshield was about to spit back out the mortal cuisine, the loud mouthed unicorn relaxed her expression and gave a perfunctory nod, before settling into her own meal. But Sparkshower was not going to let her off that easily.

"I told you that you were being ridiculous!"

Glamerspear leaned both elbows on the table as she tried to manage eating the greasy burger without the use of her telekinesis. "I'm just making sure, is all! Princess Luna said that ponies who fought a thousand years ago passed down legends, didn't she? Who's to say which ones are true or not if we don't ask?"

The armored pegasus sighed and rolled her eyes. "Well, how about the fact that there's no vampires at all, anywhere?"

The unicorn leaned forward. "There could be. There's vampire bats, after all."

Honour had heard enough. "Those are fruit bats, Glamerspear. And they just make a mess of orchards and berry patches."

With a mouthful of hayburger, and a sandwich precariously perched on hooves that weren’t entirely used to having to actually hold things, Glamerspear just shrugged.

After a few seconds, Honour went back to her own thoughts. What to ask next?

"So what do you eat? On the moon, I mean?"

Once again, the conversation had been steered by the loudest and least-restrained among them.

Ebonshield wiped her mouth and put her sandwich back down. "Some things can be made to grow there. Potatoes, cabbage, fava beans, peppers... mushrooms grow underground, as well."

Reaching into her box of fries, she held one up for everypony to see. "But everything winds up tasting dusty if you eat it as-is -- dusty, and dry. On the moon, we have to put ground hot peppers on all of the things just to make them edible. In the food, the heat is all you can taste. In the kitchen, the spice is all you can smell."

She shook her head. "Things here in Equestria are much tastier. Especially the potatoes! I did not know they could be so delicious until I first came here!"

Popping the fry in her mouth, she appeared to genuinely savor it, before glancing around the table at everypony. "Do not let any batpony tell you otherwise -- they’re filthy lying bastardos like that, claiming that the spices make this better. It's foolishness; the seasoning is just to cover the poor quality of the food."

She shrugged and went for another. "But when this is all you have, you get used to them. And the hot sauces here are, I admit, quite bland by comparison."

On Honour’s left, Sparkshower was listening with eager interest, trying to smile while chewing. To Honour’s right, Glamerspear was nodding, her head slightly cocked to better hear while she ate. Well, at least everypony was getting along so far. Even if Glam had started with some nonsense, at least it broke the ice, and there would be plenty of time to learn the answers to the big questions.

"Okay, but what do you drink?"

‘Oh boy, here comes another hard-hitting question.’

That one seemed to somewhat confuse the Sergeant. "We drink water? There is ice beneath the surface."

Hopefully, Glamerspear was running out of food related questions.

"... We make some liquors from fermented vegetables as well, of course."

That got the saltine's attention. "Oh, yeah?"

"Certainly. Gin, whiskey, and the like, usually from potatoes, are common. If you want something stronger, a shot of 70-proof 'Maestro Cazador,' with the herbs and spices, serves as an after-supper digestivo."

Honour’s out-on-the-town unicorn seemed impressed and intrigued. "Hunh. I wonder if that last one mixes well."

Ebonshield shrugged. "If you are interested, I shall bring you a bottle from the rookery, and you may try him yourself."

Glamerspear was smiling -- that was the first time she'd done that with the Sergeant, as far as Honour knew.

"Aw yeah, drinks at the barracks, that's what I'm talking about!"

Honour was not sure if that was a great idea. Actually, she was pretty sure it wasn't.

But maybe just once... after they’d all had some good physical training together later that day, maybe a few drinks together would be a good idea.

The unicorn licked her lips and leaned forward again. "... What do you think of Equestrian liquor?"

Ebonshield finished another bite of her hayburger. "I cannot say that I have really sampled it."

The junior soldier raised a hoof in confusion. "But you've gone out clubbing twice already?"

Honour’s batpony shrugged her shoulders. "Oh, yes, but I do not really care much for the drinking. I am there for the colts, darling."

Tapping a hoof to her chin, she reflectively looked up at the ceiling. "You know, that one from last night may not have been much of a charmer in the morning, but he was very drunk when I brought him home, and it is nice when they are still young and don't have trouble performing from too much alcohol, yes?"

Over to Honour’s left, Sparkshower almost choked on her hayburger, and the corporal saw her cheeks go red.

Glamerspear just leaned back, turning up her snout. "I prefer older gentlecolts myself. The ones who know how to handle their drink... and their mare."

Typical answer, for a self-professed saltine. Well, at least they won't be rivals over a colt if they ever find themselves at the same club.

‘Hmm.’

Unless it was a particularly charming, young and wealthy noblepony.

Ebonshield smiled. "Then you can have them, Specialist Glamerspear, and leave all the bashful young studs for me. I enjoy the challenge of breaking in the wild ones."

Glamerspear snorted. "Yeah, what's the 'wildest' you've had to tame?"

‘Oh, no. You are not spending meet-and-greet-your-batpony-comrade lunchtime discussing colts.’

"A gentlemare does not kiss and tell, Specialist."

'Yes, exactly that; shut this conversation down, Sergeant.’

"... But anyways, I always think more of the ones that got away."

‘Damn it.’

The pegasus on Honour’s left, her wings unfolded, leaned in with her burger in her hooves. "Like who?"

‘Et tu, Sparkshower?’

Ebonshield grinned. "Well, for example, yesterday I propositioned a certain charming, well-dressed, and well-mannered young gentlecolt who looked like he could take a mare hard against the wall, and then all the way up her. The kind of colt you could take to bed three times in a night, and he still wants more, the poor starving potrito. The kind who chomps at the bit and bites at the reins when you hold him back, and whinnies loudly when you let him loose."

As Honour chewed, Sparkshower's wings seemed to stretch out a little further.

Really? Just talking euphemistically about sex did that to her? When Honour talked to her about saltines and salt-licks, should she have also mentioned the birds and the bees?

Meanwhile, Glamerspear was on a different edge. "Hah! Where'd you meet this wonderstud, Sarge? And tell me you at least got his name!"

Coyly, Ebonshield shrank into her shoulders, wrapping her wings around her. "Of course I spoke with him. He was a good conversationalist. This makes me wonder if he also knows how to 'pillow talk.' You know, the experience is so much better when they know what to say, yes?"

Glamerspear chuckled and nodded, but Sparkshower just leaned in. "What's... What's 'pillow talk'?"

Okay, pressing need to have some serious conversations aside, this was actually pretty funny. Honour looked down at her burger to avert her eyes, and she had to put a hoof up to her mouth to hide her sucked-in-lips as she tried to avoid laughing.

And Ebonshield took Sparkshower's hoof in hers, like an unrestrained aunt explaining sexual liberation to a foal.

It was priceless.

"Oh, darling. This is when a colt whispers sweet things in your ear -- on the subject of what the two of you are going to be doing later, back in bed."

If Sparkshower's wings opened up any wider, they were going to knock something over. And if she got any redder, she’d have to have the coat color on her ID card changed.

"Uh... And this colt, he did that? Even though he, uh... 'got away'?"

Sparkshower's new aunt shook her head. "Oh, no, Specialist. He only looked and sounded like he could, in my head. But sometimes, the imagination is better than the real thing. Perhaps he would not have been so good at this. This would have been fun to find out the truth, though. Maybe I will see him again. And maybe if he is not so good, I can teach him."

As the wheels in Sparkshower's head turned, Glamerspear intruded further into the center of the table, laying out a demanding hoof.

"Okay, so what did he look like?"

Ebonshield once again played at being coy. "If I tell you what did he look like, you'll know exactly who this is."

The more she denied the unicorn, the hotter Glamerspear started burning up inside. It was fantastic; the Sergeant had read her perfectly. Just like with the chewing-out yesterday, she definitely knew how to handle ponies. This was the best entertainment Honour’d had in weeks. Hiding her smirk, she reached for her grape soda and took a drink through the straw.

The unicorn had reached her limit. "So tell me who it is, already!"

Finally, theatrically rolling her vertical-slit eyes, the batpony rolled her shoulders and folded her wings back up.

"He is our VIP, Anonymous."

Honour didn’t see Sparkshower's jaw drop, or Glamerspear's eyes go wide. She was too busy spitting her drink all over the table.

Choking, the corporal wiped her mouth with her hoof.

Sergeant Ebonshield looked at Honour with a wry smile. “Yes, this was also his reply."

Chapter 38

Isabelle Coquette

Isabelle Coquette, bodyguard to Galloway Bitsmount, Esquire, didn’t like the look of things. True, it was still early in the afternoon, and it was a bright and warm, early spring day. But to meet somepony in a shadowed alley behind a boarded-up mill, in the lower tiers of Canterlot down near the docks? And for nefarious ends, at that?

Well, it didn't exactly fill her with cheer. She hadn't even been present when her charge had met that 'Granny Nag' contact. All she had to go on was the description provided by her employer and his foremost teamster, Phillip Songwell -- which, to be fair, was certainly distinctive. The whole thing still creeped her out, though.

"Coquette, stop looking about as if we're up to no good."

Apparently, her nervousness was showing. "Sorry, Mister Bitsmount."

Her employer, glancing sideways at her, nodded his head toward his more elderly employee. "The same goes for you, Songwell. These ponies are professionals, from what I've heard. They won't be any trouble."

‘Then why am I here?’

Actually, even if they did cause trouble, why was she there? She was a bartender who had to occasionally serve as a bouncer for drunks and bums, not some kind of prize-fighter or military trained bodyguard. Her combat strategy exclusively revolved around heavy horseshoes and coldcocks.

And if the way she moved didn’t make it obvious to anyone serious, well, Bitsmount's idea of a 'guard outfit' would make it pretty clear; the damn Prench maid outfit kept riding up her flanks. She had to admit, it did a good job of showing off her plot -- but it crossed the limit of practicality, and skirted dangerously close to the edge of decency. Really, she had to admit, she was just for show.

Much like Bitsmount himself, to be honest. He seemed very confident that he'd come up with a way to weasel out of his obligations to the state, but it could all crumble so easily, and the whole thing was just a veneer over his unsavory activities.

Oh well.

It had all started so charmingly, when she’d had to give a colt a walloping because they'd gotten too hoofsy. She was serving drinks at one of Bitsmount's big galas, and it turned out Galloway disliked the colt in question because he'd scooped up some mare before he could. He was pretty happy to see his drunken rival get their nose bucked in. And Bitsmount was all charm when he’d set his eyes on her.

He’d offered her a job as a bodyguard, with better pay than as a server. There were some pretty obvious strings attached, but she was a big girl even then; she knew what he really wanted. At least when he got bored of bedding her, he didn't fire her. And he didn’t mind if she saw anypony on the side, as long as she kept it discreet.

Like that stud George from a few nights ago. Unf, that was a right and proper rutting he'd given her. Had her worn out but still desperately thirsty for more, which in itself was pretty hot. And although he had the look of a lecher, he'd been a gentlecolt about it, both before and after. The next time Bitsmount traveled to Canterlot, she would make sure to check if Mister Mustang was in town with his entourage.

Assuming her employer escaped his forthcoming punishment, of course.

Suddenly, out of the corner of her eye, Isabelle spotted somepony who must surely be 'Granny Nag' at the far end of the alley, and heading their way. She was exactly as she was described to her -- an elderly mare with milky-white eyes, grey hair, and old-fashioned noblepony's clothing in extremely poor repair. If she looked any worse, she’d have said she must live in the street. But there was a kind of tidy to her that told the mare that she had a bed somewhere. Perhaps nothing more than a room in a boarding house, or a regular spot in a doss house. And, as she approached, she could see that, her coat and clothes were ragged, yes, but they were still clean. Not likely she would be able to manage that with just a hammock in a dormitory -- so, she had a boarding or lodging house, at the very least.

Her employer had spotted her as well. "There she is. Everypony act natural. Remember, I'm 'Eustace' and Songwell is 'Horace', and we're here to play cribbage."

The three of them all turned to face this contact into the black magic underground of Canterlot; Bitsmount with confidence and a haughty air, Songwell with a heavy but determined heart, and herself, with some trepidation about what, exactly, her boss was getting everypony into.

'Granny Nag', the decrepit old mare, walked up to where her group was standing. For a blind pony, she sure came down that alley quickly. Could it be an act?

Her employer opened his mouth first. "Good afternoon, Granny."

With a scowl on her face, she turned to look in the direction of his voice. The scowl melted into a yellow-toothed grin. "Oh, good afternoon, Eustace! And you too, Horace..."

She squinted her cataract-filled eyes in Isabelle’s direction.

"... But who's this you've got with you?"

"Don't pay her any mind, Granny. She's just here to provide some protection. Can't be too safe in the streets these days, can you?"

Granny continued to squint at her for a few seconds after he finished, her wrinkled lips pursed together. Then she licked them and turned away. "No, no, no -- you're right Eustace, it's certainly dangerous out here at night like this."

‘At night?’ She must be so blind she can't tell sunlight from moonlight. Without another word, 'Granny' passed them all by, turned the corner, and headed down the side-alley, towards the back of the mill.

Isabelle hazarded a glance at her employer and his teamster minion. Songwell looked more nervous than ever, but Bitsmount just looked annoyed.

"Well, what are you waiting for, Coquette? Take the lead in following her."

With a deep breath, she trotted away after their contact. It only took a few seconds to catch up with the shuffling geriatric, halfway down the alley. Here, closer to the water-channel that powered the mill, she could still hear the creaking as its wheel turned pointlessly in the flow. Just as she caught up with the old nag, with the two colts close behind, she stopped in front of a pair of cellar doors and, with a surprising strength for somepony so old, pulled one of them open and hustled her way down in it.

Stopping at the precipice, Isabelle could tell it was very dark down there. There was a wet, musty smell coming up from the cellar, too. Not to mention the somewhat disconcerting groan of old equipment as well.

"Come on, we haven't got all afternoon!" Her employer was being his usual, impatient self. It was her job to see to his safety, though -- even in her limited capacity. And this still smelled wrong.

But then again, where else were criminals against the state of Equestria going to hide? In a gilt palace? No, it was the cellar for the lot of them, and she resolved to push down the stairs into the darkness below.

Suggested background music: Christopher Young - 'Hellbound Heart', from 'Hellraiser' [1987]
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IBE9qmucK7Y

But before she took the first step, there was a small flash of light, and a dash of sparks. Granny Nag stood at the bottom of the cellar staircase, holding a freshly-lit candle in her mouth, while tossing a still-burning match to the floor.

"Here you are, dear. Come and take this from me, would you?"

Now that there was some light, Isabelle headed down. When she reached the bottom, ‘Granny Nag’ leaned over and whispered in her ear.

“Eustace, Horace, and I have been down this path so many times we know the way by touch alone, but a delicious little treat like you will want a little light to guide your way."

Taking the candle from her mouth, Isabelle watched as Songwell came down after her.

“Mind you close the door, Eustace! We don't want a draft!"

With a disgusted grunt, Galloway turned around and backed down the stairs, pulling the door shut with him. He wasn’t even at the bottom of the stairs before Granny was off again. It was all Isabelle could do but to carry on after her, lest she lose her in the utter darkness of the mill's basement. Songwell and Bitsmount both hurried up after her, sticking close to her candle’s light in the narrow, wood-walled passageway. Up above, the low grumbling of moving machinery continued, and she could hear a high-pitched whine as well.

‘Granny’ did indeed seem to know the way quite well. But if the blindness was all an act, how could she see? The candle barely cast enough light for Isabelle to see Granny’s rear hooves, let alone for her to see what was in front of her. No, she must really be that crippled.

Isabelle pressed on, surprised by ‘Granny’s’ speed. She perfectly took blind corners that left even her butting her shoulder into the wall or nearly tripping over a piece of debris on the ground. ‘Damn;’ 'Granny' must have gone down this passage hundreds of times to have it memorized so well. Turning another corner, she saw red dots in the distance, and they quickly scattered away from her candle-light in a distant cacophony of squeaking noises.

Rats!

‘Ugh, what an awful place.’ Thank Celestia, it didn’t smell too bad down there, though, with an odor only as foul as the damp musk of any basement beside one of the canals. That air didn’t seem to agree with Mister Songwell, however, and he exploded into a fit of coughing.

Bitsmount threw a hoof around his employee, and called out ahead. "Slow down a moment, there, Granny!"

But Granny Nag just kept walking onwards, and with Bitsmount flustered by her single-minded determination, Isabelle dropped back to help. Taking the old teamster partially over her shoulder, she led him forward even as he continued his fit.

Eventually, after pulling a handkerchief out of his vest pocket, he choked out an apology. "Sorry. And thank you, miss."

She let him go and took the front again. Why'd Bitsmount have to drag an old colt into this, anyways?

Oh, of course. He was going to have Songwell take the fall for the mines’ mismanagement. She sure hoped he was going to at least pay the old teamster enough to retire on.

And what is with this basement expedition! They must have trodden the entire square footage of the mill's floor by now. Although... she hadn't noticed it at the time, but the machinery noises had gotten very faint. In fact, they were little more than quiet echoes coming up from behind them.

Isabelle couldn’t possibly be under the mill any more. And the walls had gotten rougher and more angular. Looking to her side, she saw that they were hewn rock instead of wooden foundation walls. A secret passage between buildings? That must have taken a lot of work.

At last, the hoofsteps in front of her came to a stop. Granny Nag was standing at the end of another long corridor, waiting in front of some kind of hatch. Leading the way, Isabelle joined her at the front, her two charges close behind.

"Would you help me with this door, sweetie? It's a bit too much for these old bones of mine." Extending a hoof, she searched with it for a large, circular crank handle built into the metal door. When her hoof touched the circular rim, Granny patted it, as if to show it to Isabelle.

“Just turn it clockwise, dearest."

Stepping forwards, she grabbed the cross-bars of the wheel and gave it a tug. It didn’t budge one inch.

‘Damn thing must be stuck solid.’

Rearing up, she gave it another try, throwing her shoulders into the task. At last, there was a sharp creak of metal, and then a thud as the lock opened. As Isabelle let go of the wheel, Granny Nag stepped up and pulled open the door, revealing a small chamber inside.

There was a blue magical light-bulb built into the ceiling, too -- the first non-candle source of light she’d seen in what must have been a quarter of an hour by now. And on the far wall of the small chamber, there was another hatch with a crank-handle.

Granny stepped in ahead of her. "Be a treat and close the door behind us, would you?"

Isabelle waved her head back at the trailing stallions, and they came up to enter the chamber before her, squeezing past in the narrow, rocky tunnel. At last, Isabelle entered the chamber inside, and she had to strain to pull the heavy door shut.

The thing must weigh a ton! How did Granny manage to open it if she said she couldn't work the handle?

As soon as she shut the considerable door, the lock seemed to re-engage itself, and by the time she’d turned around, their guidespony had already opened the other door, pulling the heavy hatch inwards. There was light beyond it, so much more than even in the little metal antechamber, that Isabelle was blinded by the brightness. Without waiting for her -- so much for sending in his bodyguard first! -- Bitsmount stepped into the light.

"Now, this is more like it!

Isabelle stepped towards the light as well, still straining her eyes. As she entered the room beyond, the bright blur faded into focus. She found herself in a large, domed room, ringed with columns, and amply lit by ensconced, golden lamps all around the perimeter. Elegant white marble tiles lined the floor and ceiling, and the walls were covered in dark brown wainscoting, with red patterned wallpaper, as if this was a palace ballroom and smoking room all rolled into one. Dangling down from the peak of the dome, an enormous chandelier was suspended above the room, its eight arms stretching out into a great ring, with a circular ball of light at the end of each one.

‘No point in the candle any more, that’s for sure.’

Conveniently, there was a small table right by the door, and Isabelle put the candle down and blew it out. Behind her, Granny Nag shut the door, while ahead of her, Bitsmount and Songwell were staring up at the ceiling in awe.

"See what I told you, Songwell? These are professionals -- and professionals with a sense of taste, at that!"

"I'm pleased that our accommodations are to your liking, Mister Bitsmount."

Stepping out from behind one of the columns, a hooded colt walked to the center of the room, where a small table had been set up, completely covered by a red woven rug.

Bitsmount stepped forward as well, and Isabelle joined her employer on his left, with Songwell on his right. "Ah, our esteemed host. Good day to you, sir. I take it we find ourselves at last in the company of the 'Familia'?"

The robed pony took up a position on the other side of the rug-covered table, standing in front of it like a priest, with the three of them as supplicants.

‘Hmm.’

Isabelle couldn't make out any table-legs, and the designs on the tiles seem to converge in the center. Maybe it was actually a dais, or an altar?

"You do indeed, Mister Bitsmount. You may call me 'Isfet'. You have already met 'Granny Nag'." He gestured a hoof at his associate, who came up behind them.

Keeping his face obscured by the hood, 'Isfet' had a smooth, quiet, and steady voice. It was almost menacingly gentle, and despite the luxurious elegance of this room, Isabelle felt even less relaxed than she did in the pitch-black tunnels that brought her there.

"... Now please, tell me, what can the Familia in Magicae do for you today?" Bitsmount seemed pleased by the introduction, but she really didn’t like the way that sounded.

Granny Nag took up a position beside their host, and despite her apparent frailty, Isabelle was even more suspicious of her, considering her demonstrated strength and questionable blindness.

Before her employer could open his mouth to explain his needs, Isfet held up a hoof. "I joke, of course. The Family investigates any prospective client long before we make contact. Your requirements are known to us; you need to get away with lying at court."

Songwell gasped, surprised anypony could have figured it out.

‘Well, what else was a pony under investigation for safety standards violations going to be doing contacting practitioners of the dark arts, you silly old colt?’

Bitsmount tipped his hat. "That's it exactly, sir. Myself and my foremost teamspony, Phillip Songwell, need assistance in resisting the dream-reading powers of Princess Luna."

Granny Nag scoffed at that remark, but Isfet replies in his flat, moodless tone. "Her Majesty's powers over the morphean realm are considerable, Mister Bitsmount, but there's little truth to be found in dreams. In order to lie at court, it's not this power in particular which should worry you."

He pulled out a pair of vials from beneath his robes, and laid them on the carpeted dais before him. "What you must worry about instead is their Majesty's Presence. It is not a thing which is obvious in an open setting, but..."

Lifting one of the vials, he held it up in front of the three. "... after you give your testimony in front of the crowd, you will doubtless be asked to speak with one or both of the Princesses in private. And it's there that they will work their magic on you."

All eyes were on the little thimble of liquid. "Their Majesties' Presence has the power to compel truth, awe or dominate the weak-willed, terrify the wicked, and cow the meek. To resist it, you will need this."

He reverently placed the vial back down again.

"All that remains is for the bargain to be struck."

Bitsmount narrowed his eyes. "How much, then?"

Isfet paused slightly before responding.

"Half a million."

Songwell gasped again, and even Bitsmount inhaled sharply, scowling. For two tiny little vials, that was an enormous price tag. Even a young pony like Isabelle could retire and live out the rest of their years in comfortable luxury for half a million.

Her employer took a deep breath. "That's quite a tidy sum, sir."

"It is, Mister Bitsmount. But from what we understand, you spend that much on parties at your country villa in a year or two."

From underneath the shadows of the hood, Isabelle could make out the slightest hint of white teeth. Was he grinning?

"We suggest tightening your belt. After this incident, doubtless society will expect some humility on your part, even if your underling takes the blame."

Galloway Bitsmount nodded his head with a chuckle. "Yes, well..."

Isabelle could tell it was the forced laughter of somepony who knew when they'd been caught.

"... The fact remains that I don't have half a million bits on me at the moment. And I doubt you'll take a cheque."

The hooded figure bowed. "No, Mister Bitsmount. But we will convey the terms of the payment later, and the sum will be collected over time. It is, after all, in our interest as well as yours that this payment goes unnoticed."

That sounded like a prelude to blackmail.

Her employer sensed it, too. "I see. So I am to entrust the accounting entirely to you? You'll forgive me if I have some reservations."

Again, Isfet bowed. "Mister Bitsmount, your concern that we may try to take advantage is understandable. But surely, as you were the one who sought us out, you have done your research beforehoof? We are artisans, sir, not gutter-mages. Our clients come to us because they know we are reliable and discreet. Our prices are dear precisely because we do not abase ourselves with extorting our customers."

Sighing, her employer nodded. "Yes, you're right, sir. I apologize for the remark, and I agree to your terms."

The robed colt waved one hoof in front of the vials. "Then please, Mister Bitsmount. Take these, and imbibe the contents before you attend court. The effects will last for one full day only..."

Bitsmount reached forward.

"... But before you go, there is a small additional price for a first-time client such as yourself. A finder's fee, for our agent."

He indicated Granny Nag, and the thought of paying out even more soured Bitsmount's mood again. Bit of a dirty trick asking for more for the guide, and even Songwell grumbled about that one. Still, avoiding the dungeon is probably worth half a million, plus a little bit more.

"Of course. And how much is that?"

Granny Nag looked him in the eyes with her milky orbs. "Just enough for a few drinks, that's all, my dear."

The thought of spending any more time near the decrepit old mare disgusted her young noblepony employer, and he turned up his snout even as he tucked the vials away into his vest, pulling out his pocketbook in the process. "Let's settle that account right now, then. I'd like to wrap this up quickly."

The elderly mare circled around the dais towards him as he began to count out a few hundred bits' worth of bills. With a sneer, he held the cash out in front of her. "Here, is this enough to see us safely back to the surface?"

Tut-tutting, she shook her head. "Oh, no, dear, I said a few drinks."

Bitsmount scoffed, but before he could do anything else, she snarled and lunged at him, knocking him backwards to the floor as she latched her mouth onto his neck.

Shocked, it was all Isabelle could do but to gasp and jump aside as Granny Nag wrapped her hooves around him, growling and hissing like a wild beast. Beside Isabelle, Songwell wailed as he stood apart, fixed in place.

And 'Isfet' just sat calmly in front of the table as before, motionless as this assault occurred right in front of him.

On the ground, her employer's limbs spasmed, and he moaned softly and repeatedly in-between unsteady breaths, unable to struggle against her.

‘What is she doing to him?!’

That's when 'Granny' reared her head back. Songwell's wail turned into a scream, and he backed up even more.

So did Isabelle when she saw it.

Her snout was covered in blood, and as she watched, transfixed by the horrific sight, ‘Granny Nag’ transformed before her very eyes.

Her milky-white orbs turned crimson red

Her grey mane darkened to a shiny brown

Even her clothes seemed to knit themselves back into better shape.

She got to her hooves, as swiftly as the fresh young mare she now appeared to be. Songwell bolted for the hatch, but 'Granny' just stared at Isabelle.

And she looked hungry for more.

"Time to give your Granny a drink, dearie."

Isabelle withdrew before her steady advance, while behind her, she could hear Songwell furiously trying to open the hatch.

‘Come on, have some resolve, girl!’

Rearing up, she raised her forehooves and prayed that whatever kind of monster she was, a heavy bronze horseshoe would still hurt.

That's when the lights around the perimeter started to fade out.

‘Oh, no.’

"For the love of Celestia, help! Open this door!" Songwell hammered desperately on the iron door as the chandelier lights faded, too.

The last thing Isabelle saw before the darkness enveloped the room completely, was the two long, white canine fangs protruding out of 'Granny's' mouth.

"Don't worry, dearie. It won't hurt a bit."

She swung at the darkness, connecting with nothing but air.

Then she felt something at her neck, and blacked out.

Suggested interlude music: Nine Inch Nails - 'Quake Theme', from 'Quake' [1996]
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Mv5Jvr2Fp48

Chapter 39

"GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!"

There was a mighty crash of glass and metal, and with that blood-curdling scream ringing in her ears, Isabelle Coquette awoke with a start.

‘What just happened!?’

Gasping, she frantically looked around, finding herself in a well-lit, carpeted indoor corridor.

Wait, was that music she heard?

She turned around and looked behind her. A small, dark red curtain separated her from the sound, and she hesitantly poked her snout into it.

‘What in Tartarus? This is the West Side Theatre!’

And it seemed to be intermission time, because the music was still going, yet everypony was getting out of their seats, a din of conversation hovering over the hall.

Suggested background music: Andrew Lloyd Webber - 'Entr'acte', from 'Phantom of the Opera' [1986]
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Bom174H_LuA

Isabelle was standing in the corridor outside a private box seat, and in front of her sat Galloway Bitsmount, her employer, and Phillip Songwell, foremost teamster of Bitsmount silver mine, looking just as shocked as she was.

Bitsmount leapt from his seat, snapping to his hooves. "What in blazes?!..."

Spinning around abruptly, he spotted Isabelle peeking in through the curtain. "... Coquette! How'd we get here?!"

She drew the curtain open. "Mister Bitsmount, sir, I'm sorry, but I have absolutely no idea. I just came-to in the hallway."

Bitsmount was left sputtering, turning rapidly between Isabelle and Phillip Songwell, who was just coming to, pulling off his bowler hat and rubbing his head.

"Songwell! Tell me you remember something!"

But the old colt just shook his head. "All I remember, sir, is meeting that gentlecolt for business. After that, it's all a blur -- though I recall a banging noise of sorts..."

"Damn!" With an exasperated sigh, her boss straightened his jacket and put on his top hat.

"I, too, remember meeting the colt, 'Isfet,' and making the d-- Goodness gracious, pray I still have them!"

Desperately, he dug around in his jacket pockets. "Ah, we have Cerberus' own luck! I've still got the vials, Songwell!"

Holding up the two tiny magic potions, Bitsmount started to smile. "This must all be the work of our 'friends,' I think. You don't run an organization like that without taking a few precautions."

Glancing back towards the theater, he nodded to himself, grinning. "Clever of them to drop us here in a box, where anypony can see! I wouldn't be surprised if they had magical images of us here the whole time; a matinée performance in a publicly visible box seat -- excellent alibi!"

Turning to her and Songwell, Bitsmount clopped his forehooves together. "... Well, what are you waiting for? Let's go!"

Too bad; Isabelle was kind of hoping to have a chance to hear the second act.

Oh well. Bitsmount wasn't big on theatrical shows.

With a satisfied smirk, her employer hustled herself and Songwell out of the theater, cackling with glee about how the court appearance on Friday was going to go his way. Isabelle was not quite so sure. Dealing with sorcerers who can foil the Princess' powers, project images, wipe memories, and teleport ponies? No good could possibly come of this.

Rubbing at her neck, which was strangely sore, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something truly menacing lay behind what little she remembered of their professional front. And what kind of a name was 'Isfet,' anyways? It certainly wasn't Prench.

One thing was sure; after her shift was over, she was definitely going to need a drink.

Lily Glamerspear

Specialist Lily Glamerspear was not drunk.

Happy? Yes.

Buzzed? Sure.

Tipsy? ...Maybe.

Certainly not drunk, though.

It was kind of hard to tell, what with the way the room seemed to be bouncing up and down. Wait, no, that was just Sparkshower in her chair.

"Sparks, knock it off, you're making me dizzy."

Stopping, she looked up with a dopey grin. "Sorry. This is, uh..." Sparkshower emitted a loud burp, and promptly clapped her forehooves to her snout, turning bright red.

After suffering a few seconds of embarrassment, she lowered her hooves. "... Um... I was going to say, this is pretty strong stuff."

Lily started to chuckle. What a lightweight. Couldn't she handle a few shots? They’d only been at this for an hour, now.

Corporal Bound, the party-pooper, had shut down all Anonymous-related conversation after her spit-take, insisting on a change of topics. Well, bully to her.

But when lunch was over and the corporal had gone back downstairs for the rest of her shift, after insisting that three of them should conduct exercises to Sergeant Ebonshield's satisfaction, she wound up coming right back up before Lily had even gotten her armor on. Apparently, the Royal Engineer had asked her how things were going, and when she said that they were all getting along well, he dismissed her for the rest of the day, saying to keep at it instead.

That was four hours ago.

And somehow, Lily and Sparkshower had managed to convince Corporal Bound that the actual best team-building exercise wouldn't involve going for a gallop in broad daylight with somepony who wasn't even supposed to exist. So instead, outside of a few brief shopping expeditions, they had all mostly been hanging about in their quarters, swapping stories -- mostly about stupid nonsense, so far. 'Shoe camp, life in Canterlot, things like that. Things that didn't really offend anypony, and went well with booze.

On Lily’s left, Ebonshield giggled. "'Maestro Cazador' is a strong alcohol. We usually only drink a little as an after-supper digestivo. But I think that Specialist Glamerspear here has discovered a few combinations with some potential."

‘Right you are, sarge!’ Lily didn't exactly have a full bar's worth of supplies spread out on the card-table, but after she’d tried a sip of the moon-brewed liqueur -- served chilled, in a frosted glass -- she’d insisted on running out and grabbing some quick sundries to try mixing up some drinks.

A growler of 'Dragoon' Pale Ale, a jug of Baltimare orange juice, a liter of Grand Mare'ner orange liqueur, a magnum of Ambler's Tonic Water, a bottle of Griffinstone Gin, and a few other miscellaneous liquors that were worth trying but didn't quite work out. And, of course, the essential additions: a measuring set and stir spoon, a drink shaker, a bucket of ice, and a bag of lemons for zest.

It was all on Lily’s dime, but she didn't mind. What else was she going to do with a pair of clamps on her horn anyway? Physical training was pointless since she couldn't do the one thing she was supposed to do -- shoot down airborne targets. The chance to discover a new drink combination was all she had to look forward to until the fetters came off.

"Okay, fillies, here's the next one..."

Lily smiled confidently at her latest concoction, but this one was almost a little embarrassing, given the added ingredient. The 'Maestro Cazador' was very bitter, so it should mix well with something that was syrupy and sweet. Well, it might be cheap and low-brow, but what guardspony hadn't chugged a few cans of 'Ripper' while out in the field? She obviously couldn’t shake the mix up, so Lily cracked open the soda pop and poured it into the mixing glass on top of the 'Cazador' already in there. The ratio was about three-to-one; she was just guessing, so it could wind up being too sweet or too bitter. With a quick stir using the long-handled, thin drink spoon, she picked up the measuring cup and then poured it out in the four drinking glasses, each already preloaded with a pair of ice cubes.

All eyes were on Lily as she was forced to use her hooves for this. Under normal circumstances, no unicorn bartender would condescend to that level, but with her horn under lock and key, that's where she was at.

She finished pouring the drink, noting that it all seemed to have ended up in their glasses. Not bad, she didn't spill anything! She quickly grabbed a knife and lemon, shaving a twist of zest into each glass.

"Order up!"

Lily glanced around the table as everypony reached over to grab their cup. Specialist Sparkshower leaned over and shut her eyes as she sniffed at the drink, then dipped a tongue in for a quick taste. She almost looked afraid to drink any more. Corporal Bound picked hers up and looked at it from underneath, as if to inspect the coloring. But she didn’t drink, waiting for somepony else to try it first. Sergeant Ebonshield -- or 'Eb,' now, as she asked to be called in casual company -- casually lifted the glass and took a mouthful, savoring it in her mouth for a few seconds before swallowing.

She nodded and pronounced judgement before taking another sip. "Very sweet. I do not think that I would like this 'Ripper' drink on his own. But he mixes well with her -- they make a good couple together."

That gave Sparkshower the excuse she needed to try it, at first slowly and hesitantly, then quickly knocking back half the glass. Bringing it back down again, she licked her lips. "I like it!"

With a sigh, Corporal Bound, sitting across the card-table from Lily, picked up her drink, giving it a quick sniff. Then she downed the whole glass in one gulp, almost slamming it back down on the table when she was done. The mare in charge of their quaternion wiped her mouth with the back of her forehoof. Frowning, probably more from the chill of the drink than the stiffness of the alcohol, she gave Lily a nod. "It's not for me, but I can see 'shoes sucking these down by the gallon on libo."

That was about the best praise she was going to get from her stern corporal. With that, Lily tasted the final product herself. It was as she imagined it would be; sweet and bubbly, but with the rich, spice flavors of the liqueur mixed in. And, of course, the sledgehammer of its alcohol was almost completely masked by the sweet soda.

Yeah, this would get somepony real drunk, real fast. It was gonna be all the rage at the barracks as soon as they figured it out.

Lily picked up the bottle, now emptied of its delicious contents, and took a closer look at what it was that the four had collectively polished off. On the funny rectangular bottle's label, the words 'Maestro Cazador' appear beneath the drink's logo: a dragon's head, facing forwards, its two horns framing a crescent moon above it.

'Master hunter,' indeed. That's what Eb said the name meant. Well, you'd have to be, to go after a dragon!

Taking another drink, Lily put the empty bottle back down. "Nice. I wonder if we can get around DADT to start seeing this in night-clubs?"

Honour scoffed loudly.

Finishing the glass, Lily placed it back down on the table and grinned at the corporal. "What? You heard Princess Luna. She wants help integrating batponies into Equestrian society." She gestured at Eb. "Wouldn't showing off what they've accomplished in the last thousand years -- er, besides preparing to follow Nightmare Moon in the conquest of Equestria -- help with that?"

Turning to her Sergeant -- both of her -- Lily smiled and gestured with one hoof. "Back me up here, Sarge." Lily shook her head and blinked her eyes, and the twin images coalesced back into one.

‘Damn, this stuff hits hard without notice.’

Eb had her leathery wings hanging surprisingly loose, and she let out a yawn as she stretched back in the chair. "That is one idea, I suppose. I am sure there would be some confusion about the label, though..."

She pointed a hoof at the bottom, where it said 'Elaborado y embotellado por la Casa de Dagas Ciegas'. Whatever that meant.

"... This is 'Produced and bottled by the House of Blind Daggers.'"

As Eb pointed out the words, she accidentally tipped the empty bottle over towards Lily. The unicorn chuckled as she reached over to pick it up. "So? Spread the word around of what it means. Ponies will love that, having a little secret to learn about it. Plus, the translation makes it sound badass."

Lily’s head filled with images of hip, young colts and mares enjoying the new drink. What to call it, though? 'Ripper' and 'Master Hunter,' hmmm…

Her train of thought was interrupted by Corporal Bound. "What's the 'House of Blind Daggers,' Sergeant?"

Lily shook her head. Of course she was trying to dig into life on the Moon. As if that mattered! Ebonshield was in Equestria, now. Let Luna deal with the ponies still hanging out up there.

But her Sergeant humored Honour Bound’s pointless question. "The House of Blind Daggers is one of the Great Houses of the Children of the Stars -- one of the feuding realms on the Moon. They control the cities in the Mar de Vapores -- the Sea of Vapors."

‘Sea? On the Moon?’

Sparkshower asked it first. "There's seas on the Moon?"

Ebonshield shook her head immediately. "No. This is an ancient name; before anypony had even gone to the Moon, they thought that the dark areas must be seas or oceans. But they merely have more iron in the soil, which is better for growing things, and for mining. So, most batponies live in and underneath the areas we still call 'seas,' 'lakes,' and such."

Lily was still trying to think of a good drink name, when the Corporal continued that boring talk about the Moon. "I still can't believe anypony really lives up there."

With all that liquor in her, Lily was not in the mood for a history lesson -- or worse, a solar-system travel guide.

"I still can't believe Sergeant Ebonshield here propositioned the Royal Engineer."

Sparkshower choked a little on her drink, being the lone straggler who hadn't yet finished her cocktail.

The Corporal instantly rolled her eyes and started to lay into her. "Glamerspear, for Celestia's sakes, I told you--"

Ebonshield leaned forward and interrupted her. "Actually, this is something I wished to discuss..."

That stopped the Corporal in her tracks. With her forehooves planted on the chair, Lily’s Sergeant leaned forward even more, showing off quite a lot of tuft on her slim body.

Not that Lily was intimidated or anything.

"Is the provision of such hospitality not the custom in Equestria?"

‘Wow, how old is this mare? She really is old-fashioned.’

Sparkshower was wide-eyed, and Lily snickered, leaving it up to the Corporal to answer. "No, Sergeant, it isn't. Not for a long while, now..."

Honour trailed off, so Lily noisily cleared her throat.

‘At least be honest with the alien batpony mare!’

Sighing, Honour continued on. "Which is not to say that it doesn't happen. But it's not the standard, certainly not in the Royal Guard." Lily’s corporal shrugged her shoulders. "In private service, things can be different. There can be expectations, and mercenary guardsponies of both sexes do have to be careful."

Ebonshield nodded her head, her shoulders still gathered forwards like a little foal -- or like a real mare trying to squeeze her tuft together to make it stand out.

She's got the moves, all right. No wonder she didn't have any trouble picking up a colt at the club, despite the wings and the accent. Then again, some colts might think the accent was exotic and sexy. If they could even hear her over the music. Heh, body language sure goes a long way in a place like that.

Lily lifted an eyebrow and leaned over towards Ebonshield. "So, how'd it go down, anyways? Stick out your tuft? Brush your shoulder up against his leg? Get him to 'accidentally' bump into your plot?"

Eb giggled like a schoolfilly.

‘Wow, is this her nightclub act?’

"Oh, no, nothing like this. Since I assumed he knew about this guard's duty, I simply asked him outright if he had selected one of us to bed."

‘There go Sparkshower's wings.’

And Corporal Bound had her head in her forehooves. Lily was tempted to join her.

"Geez, you don't waste time."

She shrugged her shoulders and leaned back in her chair. "Not when I think that the colt knows what they are doing, no. Why play games?"

Lily grinned. "Because games are fun, you silly Sergeant! Which gives me a great idea, actually..."

Quickly, she cleared her mixers out of the way, making room in the center of the table. The bottle of 'Maestro Cazador' was empty, anyways; no more mixing for now, unless Eb went and grabbed another one from the batpony barracks under the mountain.

"Since we're all feeling a bit 'happy' now, and since we're supposed to be, y'know, 'building camaraderie,' how about we make a game of it?"

She placed the empty bottle on its back at the center of the table and gave it a quick tap.

It spun in place.

‘Perfect.’

"I say we spin the bottle and play a little 'truth or dare'."

Suggested interlude music: Ian Carey featuring Mandy Ventrice - 'Let Loose', Brad Holland mix [2011]
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QNUeUVZwbe0

Chapter 40

Lily Glamerspear

Corporal Bound was giving Lily a look. "Seriously, Glamerspear? 'Spin the Bottle'? Just how fresh out of horseshoe camp are you?"

‘Everypony's a critic.’

What a surprise; Lily’s dour corporal was trying to shut down her fantastic team-building idea. Seriously, after all the booze she’d just poured into her -- and everypony else -- couldn’t she loosen up a bit?

"Come on, Corporal. You told Sparks on Monday that you needed more information about everypony in the quaternion. This is just a fun way to get it, that's all!"

She rolled her eyes at the unicorn. "You know damn well I meant tactical information, Glam."

Before Lily could reply, or Honour could protest further, Sergeant Ebonshield spoke up. "Excuse me? This 'spin the bottle,' what is she? And 'truth or dare'? I do not know these."

Corporal Bound slacked off as Lily leaned in and gave the bottle another hoof-tap with a grin on her face. "Oh, it's easy, Sergeant. You spin the bottle, and whoever it winds up pointing at when it comes to a stop, you get to ask them a question that they have to answer truthfully..."

After freewheeling around a dozen times, the neck of the empty 'Maestro Cazador' pointed at Sparkshower. "If they don't want to answer, then they have to do something on a dare instead! Here, let me show you."

With one confident hoof planted on the table, and another held in the air, Lily turned to face her pegasus comrade. “Specialist Sparkshower!"

Artemis was looking a bit concerned before, but the unicorn’s enthusiasm seemed to have infected her. "Yes, Lily?"

"You're a pretty well-built pegasus, if you don't mind me saying it, with a good pair of wings on your back and some serious power in your shoulders, so I've been wondering..."

Apprehension creeped back onto her face, worried that Lily was going to ask something lewd.

‘Well, of course I am! That's the whole point of the game!’

She just wasn’t stupid enough to start out with that.

"...How come you chose to go 19D Armored Scout instead of 11BX Air Interception?"

The simple, straightforward question about her chosen job hit her like a light slap.

"Oh! Well, uh, my physical came back with excellent scores for vision and hearing, and I aced the memory test, too..."

Lily leaned over, as if expecting more, and Sparkshower shrugged, a little embarrassed. "... And, to be honest, I was always more interested in the idea of flying ahead and conducting reconnaissance than I was in the idea of participating in a big confusing battle."

She shrank a little further into her seat, her forehooves at her sides, and wound up doing the same schoolfilly tuft-out-front pose as Eb pulled just a few seconds ago. Except she really was a somewhat shy young mare, whereas Sergeant Eb was old enough to know better.

"Plus, there was a really big signing bonus for pegasi going into 19D. The Royal Guard really doesn't get a lot of airborne armored soldiers."

Satisfied with Artemis’ answer, Lily sat back down and waved at Sparkshower. "See, Sergeant? It's as simple as that!"

Rubbing her forehooves together for a moment, Lily shrugged as she spread them open again. "Of course, if Specialist Sparkshower hadn't answered, well, then she'd have to take on a suitable dare instead. But since she did, now she can spin and ask a question of her own."

With an excited smile, Sparkshower started bouncing in her seat, leaning forward and lifting a hoof to give the bottle a solid tap.

However, the batpony narrowed her eyes down to tiny slits. "This does not seem to me like a game where the questions are usually about such simple things as this."

The booze hadn't dulled her mind any, clearly.

Before Lily could quell her suspicions, Corporal Bound answered in her place. "That's because it isn't. Usually all the questions are about colts."

‘What a party pooper.’

Having poured herself half a glass of the orange juice mixer, Lily’s Corporal dropped in a couple of ice cubes from the bucket.

But the batpony Sergeant just smiled. "Oh, good. I was worried this was going to be boring."

Sparkshower started giggling, holding both hooves up to her snout.

‘Aw yeah, the Sarge gets it.’

Across the table, Corporal Bound paused, then silently reached for the gin and brimmed her highball with it. Gin 'n' juice, huh? Somepony knows when she's beat.

Lily lifted her eyes from Honour’s drink. "With your permission, O Corporal?"

Honour just shook her head at the unicorn with a disgusted look on her face, before taking a healthy gulp of her cocktail. "Whatever."

"Yay!" Bound's dismissive acceptance was enough for Sparkshower, who instantly leaned over and bopped the bottle so hard that it almost went spinning off the table. "... Oops!"

Luckily, it came to a stop just a few inches away from the edge. And it was pointing at Sergeant Ebonshield. ‘All right, let's get some juicy dirt on the bat-winged moon-creature, Sparks!’

"Hmmm, what to ask..." Tapping one hoof on her chin, Sparkshower stared up at the ceiling.

Sergeant Ebonshield gracefully pushed the bottle back into the center even as she gathered herself up, adjusting her back-combed hair and folded her hooves on top of each other on the table.

"... Oh! I've got it! Sergeant: you know that my first name is Artemis, and Lily's is... uh, Lily, and the Corporal's first name is Honour, so how about you tell us yours?"

‘Seriously, Sparkshower? You wasted your spin on that?’

Resisting the urge to give a death-glare to her pegasister, Lily instead awaited the Sergeant's reply, a pleasant smile on her face. There were plenty of spins left in the bottle, after all.

And if Corporal Bound kept pounding back drinks like that, maybe she would get in on the action.

Ebonshield extended her wings and wrapped them around her body, putting on a pouty face. "A first name is a very private thing to a batpony, and I do not know if we are acquainted well enough yet."

Fooled by the obvious act, Sparkshower looked disappointed. "Awww."

Chuckling, the Sergeant leaned forward and tapped Sparkshower's hoof. "I am joking, darling. My name is 'Purity'; this is most pleasurable to meet you."

The smile returned to Artemis' face, and she gave the Sergeant a hearty hoof-shake. "All right!"

‘Purity Ebonshield, huh? With a brother named Marcos?’ Kinda strange, but then, it's not like Lily knew a lot of batpony names to compare against.

"¡Bueno! Now, the bottle, she is my turn to spin, yes?"

Lily nodded. Hopefully the Sergeant would liven up this with the next spin. "Go for it, Sarge!"

Sparkshower started bouncing excitedly in her chair again, tapping her forehooves together as Purity set the bottle twirling mostly in place. It came to a stop pointing at Lily.

"¡Vale! Specialist Glamerspear, you know that I am a predator of the night, so you will answer me straightaway this very important question.” Speaking quickly, she tapped her hoof on the table for emphasis.

‘This is sounding interesting.’

"Which are the discotecas the most superior in the city at which I may find the young eager colts full of energy and vigor?"

Sparkshower snorted and started laughing in her hooves.

Even Lily had to chuckle a bit at that one. "Uh, well, have you tried 'The Stables'?"

"Sí, this is where we found the gentlecolt last night. And we have also tried 'Tapestry.'"

Those were two of the better ones, although Tapestry lost some of its appeal for real youngsters when the management cleaned up the place and raised the cover charge as a result.

Lily had to think for a minute. "Well, I'm guessing you don't want to snipe the junior enlisted guards, what with DADT and all, so that puts 'Charlie's' off the menu. If you don't find 'The Stables' to your liking, then I'd check out 'The Mad Ox' or 'Earthquake' -- 'Earthquake' is a bit grungier but the drinks are cheaper so the kids like it."

"Excellent, very good. I will try them soon, yes!"

Since Ebonshield seemed satisfied with her answer, Lily glanced around the table. "Alright, so it's my spin again. Everypony ready?"

There was a clunk noise across from her, as Corporal Bound slapped her empty glass on the table. She just chased all those 'Maestro Cazador' drinks with nearly a half-pint of gin. That had to be doing something to her.

Before Lily took her turn, Honour stared Lily in the eyes and reached out herself. Pushing, rather than tapping, she turned the bottle around in circles, making 'whoosh' noises with her mouth, as if the bottle really was spinning. And the whole time she was staring at Lily.

Finally, she brought the bottle to a stop, the mouth pointing straight away from the unicorn, and directly at herself. "Looks like the bottle's made its choice, Specialist. What'll it be?"

‘Okay... this is kind of weird.’

Lily glanced left and right, but in neither of her other two comrades' confused faces did she find any answers as to the unusual behaviour of their quaternion's junior Non-Commissioned Officer.

All Lily could really do was just shrug and try to laugh it off. "Hah... Okay, Corporal, if you say so. Hmmm..."

Well, if she was going to carpe-the-lagenam1 like this, Lily decided she should take advantage of it -- ask her an actual, tough, penetrating question. Nothing lewd -- the ice was still thick on that one, and Lily didn't feel like being the one to break it. How about something a little bit personal?

"So the Royal Engineer said he'll get us all tickets to the Grand Galloping Gala, right? And even an extra one for Sparkshower's coltfriend, yeah?" Lily gave a little head-nod towards Artemis, who smiled and started to bounce again in her seat. "Which set her all a-tizzy. And Sergeant Batwing over here..." Lily gave the same head-nod in the other direction, but all it got her was a raised eyebrow in response. "Well, she was real appreciative of the offer, too. But you, Corporal, you played your cards pretty close to your tuft."

With a sly smirk, Lily leaned forward and placed a hoof on the table, looking up into Honour's eyes. "I wanna know how getting to go to the Grand Galloping Gala with Lord Anonymous makes you feel. Is it just another mission? Or does something about it actually excite you? The dancing, the food, the company, the pageantry? Maybe you're apprehensive, about what you'll wear or how you'll look? Do you regret not asking for a second ticket for your own partner? Or does something even terrify you, like having to mingle with all those high-society nobleponies?"

Straightening up, Lily shot a glance at her other two comrades, who were all ears to her cunning line of inquiry. "What's the strongest sensation it makes you feel? Let's hear it, O tight-lipped Corporal of ours."

Looking at Lily with firm eyes, not the least slackened by all the alcohol she'd imbibed, Corporal Bound took her time in replying, which just left everypony on edge.

"I'd say there's a mixture of feelings."

Her response just set Lily off. "Minotaur-dung! I'm sure you do have a mixture of feelings. But I know damn well that you feel one more than you feel any other. And the question was, which one is it?"

That was pretty aggressive of her. Probably the booze talking more than anything else. But the outburst didn’t seem to have affected the corporal in any significant way. She just kept staring at Lily with her cool eyes, blinking them once as she licked her lips, before sucking on them in thought. Once again, it was slow going before Lily got a response.

Everypony seemed to hold their breath until the Corporal opened her mouth and gave the unicorn her answer.

"Apprehension."

Sparkshower immediately started bouncing in her seat again. "Oooooh, me too! I've got to find a dress! And I've got to finish writing that letter to Huckleberry!"

Lily rolled her eyes. "Calm down a second, Sparks. Corporal -- apprehension about what?"

But Honour just shook her head at the unicorn. "One spin, one question, Specialist. You asked for the strongest sensation. That's it." Lily saw her smirk faintly. "Next time, you should be more careful with your phrasing."

‘Damn!’ Honour got her on that one.

Scoffing, Lily sat back. "Alright, fine! I guess it's your turn to spin, then."

Once again, she leaned over and just pushed the bottle around itself, making the same 'whoosh' noises with her mouth.

And she was staring at Lily again. She thought she had a pretty good idea where the bottle was going to wind up. Sure enough, after three or four spins, Honour Bound brought it to a halt facing in Lily’s direction.

As with last time, the unicorn specialist forced out a chuckle. "I'm feeling a little manipulated here, heh."

After glancing semi-nervously around the table, Lily gathered up her smugness, put on a coy smile, and looked her sloshed Corporal in the eyes. "So, whaddya want to know?"

Letting go of the bottle, Bound lifted an eyebrow. "I want to know what you did to be named a Centurion of the Order of the Ram."

Inhaling sharply, Lily went a little pale.

That was a bit of a whopper.

Author's Note

Lily does not know enough Latin to use proper declensions.

Chapter 41

Honour Bound

By Celestia, Corporal Bound was going to get something juicy out of this little game of secrets.

'Joint training,' her plot; this was literally just fillies sitting around the table getting drunk. A sport in which, she had to admit, she was already well ahead of the pack.

How many drinks was it, now? Eight? Or was it nine? From different experiments with that 'Maestro Cazador' dragon-head stuff from the freaking moon, plus a tall glass of gin and juice.

‘Damn.’

Honour hadn't hit the sauce that hard since way back when she was just an E-1 Private recruit, fresh out of horseshoe camp. Even as the front of her head started to throb, something in the back was craving more. Honour reached over to get her hooves on the bottle of Griffonese vodka.

‘'Naród,' eh?’

At least Glamerspear had good taste in hooch. Speaking of her unicorn squadmate, she'd recovered from her shock at Honour’s question, and was now busying herself with trying to deflect it.

"My appointment to Centurion? Come on, Corporal, that's a matter of public record. Anypony can look it up in the Official Rolls of the Order. You don't need to waste your spin on that."

Honour was not in the mood to drink the vodka neat. Not yet, anyways. Casting her eyes around, she spotted a bottle of vermouth, as yet mostly untouched. Perfect; she could have a vodka martini, and if that didn’t hit the spot, she could chase it with a real, gin one afterwards.

As Honour grabbed the shaker and set to work appeasing the back part of her brain while killing the front, she shut down Glamerspear's babbling.

"I want to hear it from your mouth, Glamerspear."

As she blended the two alcohols with a vigorous working of the shaker, Glamerspear chuckled awkwardly. "Why? Heh, I mean, what am I gonna say you couldn't find out in a book?"

Paying her no attention, Honour brimmed her highball glass with the stiff cocktail.

Glamerspear babbled on. "You do seem to love books, after all, what with the way you've had your snout buried in Anon's all this time."

Picking up the glass, Honour wondered if maybe she should take things a little slower. It was a reasonable thought. But she hadn’t quite reached the point of 'happy,' so she took a far bigger gulp than would be polite in anything other than private company. Anything faster, and she’d be chugging it down.

That word brought back some memories -- and not good ones -- so as soon as the sting passed by her throat, she cringed and took another sip, almost choking from the strength.

"I don't want to look it up in a book, Specialist. I want you to tell me--"

Shaking her head to clear the rush, Honour fixed Glamerspear in her gaze.

"Because I want to know why you tried to keep it hidden."

Honour’s statement hit Glamerspear like only the truth could. To her right, Purity licked her lips and nodded at the shaker. There was still plenty left inside, so Honour gently slid it over to the batpony. Sparkshower on the left was still bouncing intermittently, but she kept looking quizzically between the two of them.

‘So Glamerspear didn't tell her about the medal after all?’

That just cemented her position.

But the horn-shackled unicorn curled her shoulders inwards and tried to laugh off Honour’s question, the metal cone on her head bobbing as she feigned innocence. "Me? Try to keep it hidden? That's prepppa-prepo-...preposterous!"

Looked like she wasn’t as much of a heavweight as she thought when it came to booze.

"Don't mino-shit me, Glamerspear. The Lieutenant didn't even mention your award when she introduced you to us -- or to the Royal Engineer. Your ex-coltfriend was shocked to hear about it. And I've never seen you wear a medal until today. You're the most private Centurion I ever heard of."

Glamerspear looked left and right, hoping for allies against Honour’s assault, but Purity was just sitting back, looking completely at home with her vodka martini, while Artemis was wearing the same dopey smile, apparently eager to hear the story.

Finally, Glamerspear just scrunched up her face. "Maybe I'm just a private pony, okay? Maybe I don't like to flaunt it."

Okay, that was so pathetic Honour actually laughed out loud.

"Pffft, haha, yeah right! Of course you'd like to flaunt it, Lily..."

Using her first name for emphasis, Honour planted a hoof under her chin and slouched over sideways. "You're a flaunter. You can't help it. So I want to know why you don't flaunt this. How come you wore it today for Princess Luna?"

She blinked and shrugged. "She's a Sovereign of the Order. It's expected for members to wear it in the Royal Presence."

Honour leaned forward with a smirk. "Except so is Princess Celestia, but you didn't wear it when we were first presented to Her Majesty and the Royal Engineer."

"All right, all right!" With a sigh, Glamerspear realized the gig was up, and reached for the shaker in front of Ebonshield.

Looks like it's vodka martinis all around the table. If Sparkshower wanted in, that is.

"Ooh, what's that drink called? I want some!"

"It's a vodka martini, Sparkshower. Take it slowly."

"Alright!" The bouncy pegasus pushed a clean tumbler forward, and Glamerspear filled it halfway before taking the same for herself.

Taking a sip, Honour’s unicorn gunner seemed to deflate. "Okay, fine, you want to hear it, I'll tell you..."

Lifting her head and wearing a defeated expression, Glamerspear shrugged. "... I earned it during the Changeling Invasion. My group, the 86th Honorable Artillery Company, part of the 79th Anti-Aircraft Brigade, was set up just inside Canterlot city limits, on the outer ring of the middle tier."

She glanced around the table. "You were all around for the invasion, right? Canterlot was on high alert; I don't know if they told you guys what was going on, but they sure didn't tell us. It was just 'vigilo confido' -- keep watch and stay ready, for whatever."

With her snout still halfway in her drink. Sparkshower pulled the glass away and licked her lips. "I don't think anypony really knew what was coming, Lily. I was flying recon and, although we were in the wrong grid to catch the Changelings coming in, all we had to go on was that there had been unusual activity in the far reaches of Equestria. And then of course, there was the wedding..."

Sparkshower trailed off, and Glamerspear resumed. "I guess that's it. Weird stuff at the border, plus a big-ticket Royal Canterlot wedding..."

Glamerspear shrugged again, taking a sip of her drink before continuing. "I was one of three on shield duty -- no conjuring spears for me that day, unless I needed to swap in with one of the gunners. Anyways, with the big city shield up, courtesy of the soon-to-be Prince, I was running at maintenance levels, just keeping things warm up here..." She gestured at her horn, still shackled with cold iron and encased in a protective medical cone. "... in case anything happened. Which, of course, it did."

Pausing for another sip, she lifted her eyebrows. “Our position was the only one that held out and kept firing during the whole engagement. There's a news photo of the aftermath -- Changeling bodies, hundreds of them, poked full of holes by AA spears, piled up in a neat circle around the central shield radius, as if we were trying to build a wall out of corpses. The official kill number assigned to our company was a little over three hundred, but the same report acknowledged it may have been more than twice that, since it's known that the other four batteries in our defense zone were all knocked out within the first minutes of the assault, whereas ours kept firing for the whole half-hour."

Everypony was hanging on her next word, but Glamerspear just blankly stared at her glass, looking somber.

“We were a 'cornfield' company -- all unicorns, you know -- so as the gunners or other shield-casters went down, the spotters stepped up and kept up the work. Even the officers jumped in and poured on the fire. The other two shield-bubbles collapsed under the storm, but I managed to extend mine enough to cover our fallen and keep up the firing. By the end, when the invaders got blasted out of the city, the whole Company was either worn-out or knocked-out, though my shield stayed operational until relief found us..."

She looked up, face still impassive. "Took out over three hundred of theirs for zero losses of our own. Almost everypony in the Company was in line for a ribbon at the very least, and since most of the work was done under the cover of my shield, that's why I got awarded the Silver Ram."

Sparkshower had her hooves on her cheeks, elbows on the table and a look of wonder on her face. Even the stony-faced Ebonshield looked suitably impressed.

And it was a good story, but there was still something that didn't add up.

"Sounds like you really deserved it. So why don't you wear the medal more often?" Honour let a smirk creep back onto her face. "And if you want colts like Captain Mailedhoof fawning over you, that's a sure ticket for it."

Rather than take the compliment or react to the playful ribbing, Glamerspear just sighed.

"Because I don't remember a single thing about the whole day."

She lifted her eyes. "Everything I told you, I only know because that's what other ponies in the 86th told me! The ones who kept fighting until the end said I was the one who kept the shield going under the withering assault of all those Changelings. Our spears kept firing for half an hour, and everypony in the 100-unicorn company wound up needing medical treatment for exhaustion or for first- or second-degree manaburn, but I woke up almost a month later in the infirmary with no memory of what had happened."

Honour saw her suck in the edges of her mouth. "Tartarus, I only know for certain I was on shield duty because it's written on the duty sheet for that day!"

Glamerspear mashed her left hoof into her chin and cheek, roughly massaging herself. It looked like she was trying to hold back tears.

Snorting loudly, she waved the other hoof up aimlessly and then dropped it to the table. "So yeah, I don't like to flaunt it..."

Glum and dejected, Honour’s manaburning unicorn stared down at the middle of the table.

"... Just doesn't feel right to be proud of something you're not sure if you really did or not."

Honour was at a loss for words. Sparkshower reached out a hoof and silently placed it on top of Glamerspear's. There were a few tears welling up in the unicorn's eyes, but she quickly wiped them away.

With a sniffle, she lifted her head up. "Alright? So who's next? Let's make this party happy again."

She forced a smile and playfully waved off Sparkshower's hoof of support, but Honour still wondered about something.

"Hold up. Why did you wear it for Luna?"

Grinning, Glamerspear rolled her head around and playfully bounced her forehooves on the table. "Hey, one spin, one question, right?" She sniffled and wiped another tear away.

"Come on. Eight days ago you wouldn't wear it for Princess Celestia. What happened today?"

Sighing, she banged her hooves on the table, more loudly this time. "Jeez, you don't give up, Corporal. Okay, you want to know what happened? THIS happened!"

She pointed both hooves up at her horn. "This stupid cone and this stupid set of shackles, alright? That's what happened."

"I can actually remember the fight with Kilfeather, and I figured, well, if I could manaburn myself so badly gunning him down, maybe I really did do what they said I did. Most unicorns can only overload themselves so far, passing out when they've barely gone over their limit. To do what I did on Saturday, I would have had to go something like ten times over my normal. But I did."

She gathered her hooves up around her drink. "So, maybe I did keep the shield going, enlarging it to cover the other gunners, and holding it steady. Maybe I really did wind up in a coma from covering my comrades, and not from anything else. Maybe I really do deserve the Silver Ram. That's why I wore it today. And it's why I was thinking of maybe wearing it more often."

She looked at Honour, almost as if she was asking for her approval. Honour nodded slowly.

Sparkshower piped up, louder than she ought to be -- but that was probably the booze at work.

"I think you should wear it more, Lily! I think it looksh good on you! I bet Princess Luna saw it and thought it looked good on you, too! I bet even Anonymous noticed how smart you looked! You should wear it next time you're on duty, and I bet you he'll say something about it!"

Even Ebonshield got in on the hugbox. "Yes, I think also. You must wear it for your Capitán Mayedhoof, to show him your superb calidad!"

Glamerspear started to chuckle, playfully batting away the praise, semi-drunkenly mispronounced and mistranslated as it was.

Honour sighed and rolled her head over to the batpony Sergeant. "You know Captain Mailedhoof is married, right? Glamerspear is the 'other' mare."

"¿Ah, sí? Then he must have an eye for gorgeous young mares of outstanding capability and excellent character."

That had Glamerspear's cheeks turning rosy, and she tried to scoff off the praise. "Okay, seriously. Someone spin the damn bottle. I like attention as much as the next filly--"

"I'd say more than the next filly," Honour interjected.

She shook her head around in surrender. "Fine, I bucking LOVE attention, okay? I'm an attention-whorse, alright? I love attention more than everypony else in Canterlot put together, that good enough for you?"

Smirking, Honour nodded and finished off her vodka martini.

Glamerspear waved Ebonshield and Sparkshower toward the middle of the table. "Now, somepony take my turn and give me a few moments to pull myself together, okay?"

Somepony went for the bottle, but Honour wasn’t paying attention.

With her glass empty, she reached for the gin.

Time to compare the vodka-based knock-off with the original recipe.

Suggested interlude music: Major Lazer - 'All My Love' (feat. Ariana Grande & Machel Montano), remix
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O5wlxT9ygtY

Chapter 42

Purity Ebonshield

This had been a pleasant evening spent with Purity Ebonshield’s comrades of the cuaternio, but one which could be better.

Leaning forward slightly, she glanced around the table. "I am obligated to say: this is a, a fun party, but for my tastes, she has too much alcohol and not enough colts."

Corporal Bound snorted and took another sip of her gin martini. Specialist Sparkshower, her head resting on the table, smiled and suppressed a laugh.

The unicorn Glamerspear shrugged her shoulders. "Blame that on the rules on VIP assignment duties, Sarge."

With a smirk, she rolled her head towards Ebonshield. "Anonymous is a single colt, so he gets a little herd of mares to escort him around."

"This is what I am referring to. Why is this the case?"

"You know why, Sergeant." With an unsubtle lift of her eyebrow and a forward tilt of her head, it's obvious what Glamerspear means.

But they told her that escorts don't do that anymore!

"I do not comprehend..." Ebonshield turned to Corporal Bound. "... You said that providing companionship was no longer a requirement of VIP guards, Caporal Honor."

The alcohol was causing her to slip into her native tongue.

"... Er, Corporal Honour."

The Corporal put down her drink. "I did say that. But I also said that it still happens."

"And this is because this still happens, that only mares are provided for single colts, and only colts provided for single mares? But to do this seems to me to only invite such trysts to continue."

Honour Bound shrugged. "You're not wrong. It is weird to still assign guards by sex in this day and age. I think there was a motion in court to change the rules a while back, but it was defeated."

Glamerspear snickered. "Yeah, it was defeated -- and I heard that Princess Celestia threatened to veto it."

Honour narrowed her eyes. "I remember that she spoke out against it; the debate was in the newspapers. She said the VIP duty system was an important part of our tradition and culture, and worth preserving. But I don't remember her threatening a veto."

The unicorn giggled. "The Princess of the Sun speaks out against a proposal, and you don't call that a veto? There could be a motion to declare that the sky is blue, and if she came out and said it was actually pink, enough would follow her that the motion would fail."

Corporal Bound sat back, looking contemplative. "I suppose that's true."

Leaning towards Glamerspear, Ebonshield probed further. "Is it an important part of Equestrian tradition and culture? I would have thought my proposal would not have provoked such a reaction if it was."

The pink unicorn rubbed her hooves together. "Eh, if it was anypony else -- and then also if you weren't a batpony, of course -- you might have gotten yourself a new lover. Although the Corporal probably would still have choked on her drink, because it was still a very forward move to make on your first duty shift. Around here we like to take it a little slower."

Ebonshield had noticed just how slowly ponies did take things here in Equestria. This was almost shameful how they wasted their time, but then again, they hadn't been living on a thousand-year divine schedule, which made for certain... expediencies in batpony culture. And Ebonshield was pretty expedient, even compared to her fellows.

Raising her hooves up, Glamerspear continued on, a smirk creeping back onto her face. "But as to the 'tradition and culture,' I've heard something about that as well..."

Corporal Bound snorted. "This should be good."

The unicorn just ignored her. "I heard that Princess Celestia spoke out against it because she didn't want to lose her personal stable of colts."

The Corporal silently shook her head and rolled her eyes.

Glamerspear continued. "She is a single mare, after all, and she gets a whole company of the Household Division to herself."

Continuing to ignore the naysayer, Glamerspear glanced at Ebonshield and Sparkshower. "You've seen them, right? The First Regiment of Life Guards, Her Majesty's Own Troop of Ponies, might just be the finest studs in Equestria. Strong topline, balanced conformation, good set to their hock."

Those were certainly desirable physical qualities in a stallion, regardless of the breed.

Sparkshower spoke up, her head still lying on the table. "Well, shouldn't Her Majesty be guarded by the best-looking ponies? They're there for pomp and ceremony, after all"

Glamerspear leaned over. "Sure she should. But why not mares as well as colts?"

Before the pegasus could say anything, the unicorn pointed a hoof at her. "I'll tell you why: because she enjoys her colt-candy."

Ebonshield saw Sparkshower's wings creep open slowly as she lifted her head up off the table. "'Enjoys'?"

Glamerspear just smiled and kept silent.

The pegasus may have missed it, but for Ebonshield, the innuendo was obvious. "You are suggesting that the Princess Celestia beds her guards."

Glamerspear wiggled her eyebrows. "Not just me. Rumours get around; anypony who keeps their ears open has probably heard one."

Spreading her hooves wide, she gestured towards Honour. "Why, I bet our dismissive Corporal has one version she could share."

With a sigh, the target of Glamerspear's gesticulation nodded her head. "Yeah, I have."

‘Really?’

Ebonshield raised an eyebrow in curiosity.

Everypony looked expectantly over at the Corporal, who licked her lips before speaking. "I've heard rumours she bucks around with her guardscolts on a pretty regular basis. And I've also heard that Her Majesty is a 'giver.'"

‘Really!’

How appropriate for the kind Princess of the Sun to be generous in bed.

The young Sparkshower narrowed her eyes, not quite comprehending. "What's a 'giver'?"

Turning away from Honour, Ebonshield looked over at the adorable little chica. "Darling, this is a lover who takes more satisfaction in pleasing their partner, than from obtaining pleasure themselves."

The cream-colored pegasus nodded. "Oh..."

Her nodding stopped.

"... How would she do that?"

Ebonshield could think of a few ways, but she turned back to the Corporal, wondering if there was more detail to the rumor.

Honour licked her lips again. "Oral sex."

With a smile, Sparkshower nodded quickly. "Ooooooh! Colts like that!"

Glamerspear leaned in close to Sparkshower, wearing a smirk. "Oh yeah, Sparks? 'Puddin' likes it when you go down on him?"

Instantly, the cream coat turned red. "I--Maybe! That's between me and my coltfriend, Lily!"

Feigning innocence, Glamerspear leaned back. "I was just curious about your technique, that's all."

The pegasus furrowed her brow. "My... technique?"

This was a bit amusing to watch the poor little filly be teased in such a way, but Ebonshield hoped the more experienced mare did not take this too far.

"Yeah, you know. Do you stick with... licking? Or does your repertoire include sucking as well?"

Those young cream-colored cheeks got rosier every time Glamerspear emphasized one of the verbs critical.

"... Can you take his whole length in your mouth? Do you let him finish in there? And if you do, do you swallow?"

Her eyes as wide as dinner plates, Specialist Sparkshower was struck silent by the unicorn’s enquiries. They were reasonable questions, of course, but the poor little potra was obviously not used to talking about the subjects sensual.

On Ebonshield’s left, Honour spoke up. "You don't have to answer her, Sparkshower. Lily is just trying to bait you."

That got a frown from the unicorn. "Bait her into what? We're all adult mares here, Corporal. Artemis doesn't have to share anything she doesn't want to..."

She turned back to look at the embarrassed pegasus. "... But if she does share, then maybe she can learn a thing or two."

This had probably gone far enough; Ebonshield would put her hoof down as well if Glamerspear pressed further.

"Uh... I... I'm not sure I want to talk about this right now."

Ebonshield shot a telling glance in the direction of the unicorn, but the mare paid her no attention.

The nerve!

"That's alright, Sparks. Sorry for putting you on the spot like that. Perhaps the Corporal has heard what technique Princess Celestia prefers?"

At least she retreated.

Honour smiled. "I'm very happy to report that I haven't. I only heard that she gives it, and reportedly, very well."

Glamerspear continued on immediately. "Well, I've heard that the Princess isn't a giver at all -- she's a taker."

Ebonshield laughed. "Oh, now this is información most juicy."

Turning sideways in her chair, Glamerspear leaned on one elbow. "I've got a friend in the infirmary-"

"No surprise considering how much time you spend there." It would seem that the Corporal could not resist poking in a ribbing of her own, based on the recent revelation about the past of Specialist Glamerspear.

Shooting a few metaphorical daggers from her eyes, the unicorn continued. "ANYWAYS- this friend tells me that every few weeks they have to treat a guardscolt of the First Regiment of Life Guards for pelvic fractures. And the colt never wants to speak about how they were injured."

Honour lifted her eyebrows, her tone dismissive. "Pelvic fractures."

"That's what I said."

"What's that supposed to mean, Glamerspear?"

"Isn't it obvious?"

The Corporal just shook her head and looked off, apparently tired of the unicorn's games.

Tilting her head back, Ebonshield smiled. "I think I know. The Princess of the Sun is quite large, is she not? Compared to an average pony, at least, or even an above-average pony, like those of the Household Division."

Glamerspear nodded and smiled. "Exactly. So the story I've heard going around is that Her Majesty doesn't give, she takes. And since even the biggest guardscolt couldn't mount her without a stepladder, she climbs on top."

Sparkshower clapped her hooves to her snout. "Ohmygosh! That must hurt!"

Glamerspear started to chuckle, so Ebonshield reassured the pegasus. "I am sure Her Majesty makes every attempt to be gentle, Specialist."

Having ended her laughing fit, Glamerspear wiggled her eyebrows. "I'm not. My friend in the infirmary says those First Regiment colts show up with bruises all the time."

On the bat pony’s left, Corporal Bound scoffed. "That's nonsense. The ponies in the Household Division train harder than almost anypony else in the guard. Those bruises are from rough work in the field."

Glamerspear shrugged. "Maybe. I'm just sharing the rumor I've heard. About Princess Celestia, anyways. I've heard different rumors about Princess Luna."

She looks at Ebonshield, who lifted an eyebrow. "¿Ah, sí? What have you heard?"

The unicorn pursed her lips. "Oh, I'm not sure if I want to spread stories about the 'Mother-of-Stars' in the company of one of her 'Children.' Wouldn't want to give offense, after all."

‘Cabron! She is quite the tease, is she not?’

Ebonshield shook her head and smiled. "You do not care about offending me, Specialist Glamerspear. I think instead that you would like it if I were embarrassed by what you have to say. And you would be disappointed. The Mother-of-Stars may be a divine entity to her children, but she is still a mare with the needs of a mare. This is entirely appropriate for her to satisfy them; or do you think that unicorn children are delivered by mail-pegasi?"

The teaser of a unicorn wobbled her head and gave Eb a wry smile. "Okay, you got me, Sarge. I'm not just an attention-whorse, I'm a shit-disturber, too."

She chuckled and turned to the rest of the table. "I've got some actual details about Princess Luna. Once a month, the rumor goes, she picks a colt from among her own escort, and takes them in bed. But the how is where it gets interesting."

She paused, waiting to make sure that she had the attention of everypony. When it was apparent that she did, she continued.

"Instead of non-vaginal sex, or mounting them on top, Princess Luna prefers to be mounted herself, in the usual fashion."

Sparkshower narrowed her eyes. "But Princess Luna is almost as big as Princess Celestia!"

"True, she's too tall for them."

Even the Corporal could not resist poking at the rumor. "You're going to say she has them climb up a ladder."

Glamerspear broke out into a wide smile, nodding. "Not a ladder. The rumor I've heard is that her chambers have been equipped with a system of... slings and harnesses."

That just confused everypony else at the table, Ebonshield included.

"¿Qué?"

"What?"

"Huh?"

Waving her hooves around in the air to aid her description, Glamerspear elaborated. "Slings and harnesses. She and her chosen colt strap themselves in, then a system of pulleys, mounted in the ceiling, lifts them into the air so that they can buck, comfortably, at the right height, with no risk of a broken pelvis."

Several seconds passed in silence.

Then Corporal Bound burst out in laughter. Pounding her hoof on the table, she doubled over forward, convulsing so hard she almost choked.

Sparkshower, her brow furrowed, was suppressing her own chuckles.

But Ebonshield just nodded. "This sounds reasonable to me."

Corporal Bound lifted her head up from the table, still dying of mirth, and just stared at the batpony. Even Glamerspear turned to her, her eyes wide, as the Corporal choked with laughter.

Ebonshield shrugged. "What?"

Suggested interlude music: Salt-N-Pepa - 'Let's Talk About Sex'
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ydrtF45-y-g

Chapter 43

Artemis Sparkshower

Specialist Sparkshower’s head was starting to spin a bit; almost time to call it quits. Lily had really pushed her first mixed drinks with Purity's moon-liquor, so it was hard for Artemis to say 'no.' Once that bottle was empty, though, she’d tried to set a pace for herself. With a watchful eye on the clock, she’d targeted no more than two full "drinks" per hour.

But Honour, to her right, had forged right on ahead, and the rest of the table followed her lead. That made it hard to keep it slow. In the end, Artemis had to lay her head down on the table, more as a signal that she needed a break than actually being overcome by the liquor.

She was starting to feel a bit sleepy, though. Alcohol was a sedative, after all -- she’d learned that in basic first aid. And occasionals like her didn't have the tolerance of regular drinkers, as it was becoming apparent that Glamerspear and Bound both were.

Lily was really slurring her words, and Artemis could see her eyes lose focus now and then, while Honour was acting very emotional. Like that outburst of laughter earlier, what was that about? She’d had so many drinks, she might not even remember it tomorrow, so Artemis might never know. She really hadn't pictured the Corporal as somepony who 'hit the bottle', but the evidence was right there.

Sergeant Ebonshield was holding her own, and the pegasus knew she drank a bit, though she was taking it almost as slowly as Artemis was.

The buzzing feeling in her head started to pulsate a bit, and she closed her eyes for a moment to recover.

Well, at least she was a fully-grown adult, now, with an understanding of what she was doing. Not like when she was a young teenager alone with her best fillyfriend, Hannah, at her house in Berry, and she accidentally doled out blackcurrant wine for them both to drink in the nice sitting-room, instead of the raspberry cordial she'd been told to use.

To be fair, they looked pretty similar -- and the bottles hadn't been labelled! It was hardly her fault. Artemis had noticed the strange taste, but neither of them had recognized the mistake. But Artemis’ parents sure had later that night, though; they'd accused poor Hannah of trying to poison her, and forbade her to see Artemis again. All because she'd poured Artemis three glasses -- because she kept asking for more! -- while Hannah herself had only had one.

Artemis didn’t remember much of it, but her drunken state must have been pretty obvious. The whole episode caused quite a spat between their two families. It was almost two months until she was allowed to visit her at her green-gabled farmhouse again.

Artemis shook her head, rubbing her cheek against the table. Why was she daydreaming about a teenage misadventure from eight years ago?

It must be the alcohol.

Definitely time to stop drinking.

Just then, Honour pushed a glass towards her. "Here, Sparkshower. Drink this."

‘Uh-oh.’

She lifted her head and inspected what the corporal had given her. It was another tall tumbler full of a clear liquid. More of that Griffonstone gin?

"What is it?"

Artemis looked at her corporal, struggling a bit to keep her eyes open.

"It's water. Drink that up and I'll pour you another to follow it. You don't want to feel rotten in the morning."

‘Oh…’

Corporal Bound had a jug of water and was pouring out water for everypony. That was considerate of her.

"Glamerspear, can you--Hey, Glamerspear!" As Honour passed a glass to Ebonshield, she tried to get Lily's attention, but their unicorn comrade seemed to have nodded off.

"Huh-wha?"

Oh good, she wasn’t completely gone.

How late was it? Artemis struggled a bit to focus on the clock. Goodness gracious, it was after ten! Glass of water, and then bed.

Now that Lily was awake, the Corporal barked orders at her. "Go and get your saltines."

Lily's eyes were still crossed, and it took her a moment to straighten them out. When she did, she cocked an eyebrow and squinted, curling up her lip. "My... saltines? I'm a saltine."

"I'm not talking about that kind, Glamerspear. I mean those salted crackers you keep under your bed."

Glamerspear loudly banged her hoof on the table -- or tried to, at least, but her limbs were too ropey and limp for her hoof to have much of an impact.

"Who says I've got... Who says I'm hiding snacks?"

Oh, that explained the noise Artemis sometimes heard from Lily’s room. "Is that what I've heard you munching on late at night?"

Frowning so hard her eyes nearly closed shut, she squinted in Artemis’ direction, patting her chest. "I- Nooooo, that's... I wouldn't, Sparks! I've gotta... gotta keep up my fillyish figure."

Having emptied her glass of water, Artemis pushed it over to Honour without even looking. She duly filled it up again, even as she carried on her argument with the specialist.

"I've never met a unicorn soldier who didn't keep a snack stash. Something about needing the extra electrolytes to fuel your horns. Just stop talking and go get them, okay? Everypony needs to drink water and eat something salty now if we're going to avoid having hangovers tomorrow."

Finally, Glamerspear actually did get to her hooves. "O... Okay. Fine. If it'll avoid hangovers. But I'm telling you I don't have any saltines..."

She was a bit wobbly on her legs, and she let out a huge yawn, but she headed off towards her bedroom. "... I'll be right back with my saltines."

Across the table from the earth pony, Ebonshield chortled, shaking her head with a smile. "Still no colts have joined our little party... Oh, well, at least Corporal Bound is taking the very good care of her soldiers with this 'first aid' for we drunkards."

Honour finished her own glass of water, then sighed. "The things you learn the hard way as a young, dumb, wide-eyed and eager private fresh out of horseshoe camp, Sergeant."

The Sergeant nodded knowingly. "Indeed."

Glamerspear came stumbling back into the common room, with a bag of salted-tops crackers in her mouth. She dropped the bag on the table, and then struggled to get back into her chair.

With their Corporal busy on water duty, Artemis reached out and opened the bag, giving a neat hooffull of saltines to everypony at the table. She had to prod Glamerspear back awake to get her to actually eat hers, though.

Surprisingly, as soon as Artemis poked her, she took the whole stack and dumped them right into her water glass, aggressively mashing them up with the cocktail stirring spoon. Then she chugged the brownish sludge in one huge gulp.

"Okay. I'm Rehyz-... rehyw-... rehydrated and muhelectrolytesisreplenish'd. Bedtime now."

Without another word, she rolled out of the chair and headed to her room once again.

Ebonshield watched her head off. "She has done this before, I think."

Honour nodded. "They all do that -- unicorn guardsponies, I mean. They call it the 'salt shaker', because they usually shake the drink up with their telekinesis."

Eww. That's kinda gross.

Artemis just munched on her own allotment. Hmm... they were a bit stale. Maybe the water-dunk idea wasn’t that crazy. But, no, she would stick to keeping drinking and eating as two separate activities.

Corporal Bound nodded in her direction. "Okay, Sparkshower, how are you holding up?"

"I'm alright, Corporal."

"Good. Drink as much water as you can and eat another hooffull of saltines and you'll be fine. I'm going to bed."

She got up, and Ebonshield stood up after her. "I, likewise, shall retire. This has been a most pleasant evening in friendly company. I think we shall start tomorrow freshly-shod."

"Good-night, Sergeant."

"Good-night, Specialist. And do not ignore the instructions of the Caporal; I, too, share her experience in these matters."

"I won't, Sarge."

In another minute, Artemis was all alone in the common-room, with three shut doors around her. Taking the instructions to heart, she eagerly chomped down on as many crackers as she could manage, washing them down with generous amounts of water. Surprisingly, the buzzing did seem to fade a bit. Something to remember if she was ever in this situation again, she supposed.

At least she didn't have to learn the 'hard' way like the Corporal and the Sergeant. Artemis had heard stories. It was unpleasant -- and messy.

Taking a deep breath, Artemis let out a burp. Okay, that's enough. She didn’t want to make herself sick to her stomach in the other way.

Time for bed.

Heading to her room, Artemis could hear Glamerspear already snoring loudly on the other side of the wall. At last the afternoon and evening went well. And Corporal Bound seemed to not actually be too drunk after all. She shouldn't have any trouble with the morning shift -- and if her preventative instructions worked, Artemis would be awake to back her up as well.

Now that the newest member of their quaternion had been properly introduced, they’d be able to perform properly as a team! Lily and Honour didn't seem to have any problems getting along with the batpony Ebonshield this evening.

As Artemis climbed into bed, yawning, she wondered what would happen next. Didn't Ebonshield say she wanted to instruct Anonymous in combat? That should be pretty interesting.

She shut her eyes, and despite the buzzsaw from next door, she was instantly asleep.

Honour Bound

Corporal Bound was galloping down the hall, running a little bit late. And she had a bit of a headache.

Yesterday's drinking party was such a dumb idea. How had Glamerspear managed to talk her into it? In her head, Honour went over the arguments she'd used.

One, Ebonshield couldn't be seen outside. A reasonable point at face value, but the batpony Sergeant had been given unrestricted access to go as her duties required, or as she pleased while not on duty. Whoever signed that order -- probably on the explicit instructions of Princess Luna -- knew she might be seen. And they either wanted that to happen, or weren't concerned if it did.

So why should Honour try to keep her under wraps? The answer was, she shouldn't. That master-key pass of Ebonshield's all but spelled it out; their quaternion mustn't consider concealing her in her tactical decision-making or shift assignments. So, no, upon further reflection that argument didn't hold water.

What else had Glamerspear said?

She thought they should all talk together and get to know each other before going out on maneuvers. That wasn't a bad idea, though it was hardly the way things were usually done in the Royal Guard. First day of horseshoe camp categorically did not include relaxed, well-lubricated socializing before getting down to gruelling physical training.

The superior approach was hard to judge; there were advantages and disadvantages to both. Probably, for well-trained and experienced guards like them, some socialization wasn't a bad idea. Still, it wasn't a great point in favor of last night’s activities.

Especially not with booze involved, which brought Honour to the third thing that Glamerspear had said. She’d wanted to try that 'Maestro Cazador' liquor. That was just a personal request, and it was hardly going to sway Honour.

All in all, she had three, pretty poor arguments. But if they'd been so weak, why had Honour gone along with it?

She knew why, and it had nothing to do with Glamerspear, her little thesis, or Sparkshower's eager championing of both.

It was Her Royal Majesty Princess Luna. All the way into the evening, Her Majesty's overwhelming Presence had stuck with her.

Had she tried to drown it in liquor?

No; if anything, she had drunk in celebration, toasting the experience. It was an awkward thing to do, after so long spent away from both the bottle, and from believing in the magical benevolence of Equestria. She still felt like she’d only wandered out of the shadows into the penumbra, but the light was visible, at least. Like Luna's falling stars, Honour felt enveloped by the noble ideals she’d once believed in.

Yes, things were not as good as they should or could be, and there were bad ponies out there, but the experience had reminded her that the ones at the top were veritable fountains of purity. The briefest splash of Princess Luna's presence was like drinking from that same fountain, and it left Honour feeling spiritually refreshed and cleansed. Though she’d had to drag herself to get there, and forced herself to imbibe, too. And not without some missteps along the way, like getting into a ridiculous discussion of the Princess' bedroom affairs.

Shaking her head at Glamerspear's filthy, unrestrained mind -- which Honour had to admit, she sometimes shared -- she rounded the final corner and made a bee-line for the Royal Engineer's chamber doors.

She put the matters of motivation, metaphysics, and her own personal demons out of her head.

The Royal Engineer was a creature of the material world, after all. While she’d been having a religious experience that had rekindled her faith, he'd sipped coffee and eaten biscuits.

But that had been enough for Princess Luna, so -- especially now, after the experience in her Presence -- it was enough for Honour. And it was good for Equestria to have somepony grounded in physical reality. Even if he didn't always understand the nuances of what was going on around him, at least he had the intellect and wits to make good decisions.

It was a little surprising that the Princesses had named him, an alien, to the Privy Council, but Honour could hardly disagree with that decision now, after seeing him at work. Full of confidence that every problem -- even the ones she didn't know about -- would be solved by her immaculate Sovereigns and their most trusted advisers, if only given enough time to deal with them, Honour knocked on the door, and then entered when bidden.

"Corporal Bound report--"

She froze in shock at the scene before her.

"...ing... for... duty."

Stammering out the last words, Corporal Bound looked over the Royal Engineer's chambers. Everything was -- well, no, not everything, but certainly quite a lot of things were -- different. The movable, panelled room divider wall, which previously stretched across the middle of the living space and separated the 'public' areas from Anonymous' bedroom and private areas, had been pushed back a good six or seven hooves. His bed must still be on the diminished far side, but it was that on the near side that had changed.

The two enormous, glass-doored bookcases were gone, with a single, thinner one standing in their place. Gone too were all but one of the filing cabinets, as well as the two writing-desks. His bureau was still there in front of the windows, and the sitting room and dining room were as Honour remembered them, but now the room was dominated by a series of wooden tables which stood in front of the partition-wall, and in between his bureau and the sofa.

A few of them had wide sets of drawers underneath as well, and the table-tops were covered in an incredible array of tools, instruments, materials, and equipment. He'd completely swapped out his writing setup for a veritable laboratory.

Sitting in a wooden swivel chair, with a spool of copper-colored wire in one hand and a pair of tweezers in the other, Honour’s Very Important Pony turned to face her. "Good morning, Corporal. Is something wrong?"

Over top his usual clothes, he was wearing a thick, white smock with sleeves, like a cross between a butcher's apron and a surgical gown.

"I... When did you have your room refurnished, sir?"

Anonymous turned to regard the workbenches as if seeing them for the first time. "Oh, this? I had it taken care of yesterday afternoon, while you were all out getting to know each other."

Closing the door behind her, Honour stepped inside and licked her lips. "You didn't move things around yourself?"

The Royal Engineer smiled. "Goodness, no. I bundled up my notes and rough drafts, and some clerks from the archives came and hauled them off on trolleys for safekeeping. While they were at it, I had some movers in to relocate the dividers, take out the old pieces of furniture I didn't need, and bring in the new ones that I did. The actual tools and matériel were brought up from storage -- I've been ordering bits and pieces over the last few months and having them stashed until I was done with the book."

He nodded in the direction of a tall bronze cylinder. "A few of the pieces, a miracle of providence, arrived just this morning. I'm hoping the rest will arrive soon, so I can really get down to business."

Smiling, he held up what he had in his hands and gestured at the table. "Would you like to see what I'm working on?"

As it happens, she wouldn't. Honour took a deep breath, and, although she’d had to shut her eyes for a moment, she successfully resisted the urge to bring one hoof up to her bridge.

"Sir... Are you telling me that you had dozens of ponies in here, in your personal chambers, yesterday, without even one of your bodyguards present?"

The warm smile on his face was accentuated by a raised brow. "Yes? Is that a problem? They were all trusted palace servants."

Stepping forward, Honour sighed. And it wasn’t from being tired. There was a genuine anger and sense of disgust behind it that surprised even her. "Remember what I said about allowing yourself to be outnumbered, sir? After Mister Mustang's visit? Have you forgotten about that?"

His smile faded a bit, though it was still there, and he was still trying to sound friendly. "I do, but surely--"

Honour cut him off, walking past the living room furniture to stand at the far end of his table, in front of the chicane entrance to his bedroom area. "Surely nothing, sir. Trusted servants of the palace or not, everypony knows you have been assigned a guard detail. If they see you in the middle of the day without an escort, even in the privacy of your own room, or in the security of the castle hallways, it will cause a disturbance."

Now he lowered his hands, too.

"Some ponies might take offense and feel that you're being too informal. Others might think that your own house is in disorder -- that you're having an argument with your guards, or that you don't think much of them, or who knows what else."

Still smiling, Anonymous shook his head. "But... up until a little over a week ago, that's exactly what I was doing..."

He shrugged. "Although, I admit, while writing that book I hadn't had much occasion to receive visitors or to walk the halls."

Perfect. Just, perfect.

Her VIP had been an anti-social hermit up until now; never having had the chance to learn the rules of society, even if only by some kind of... osmosis. It was not supposed to be her damn job to teach him! Especially not when she did tell him how to behave, and he ignored her anyways!

"It doesn't matter what you were doing before. You have guardsponies, and you're expected to use them -- use us. You must remember that."

Casting his eyes about the room, he shook his head and chuckled. "When you put it that way, having guards almost sounds like an inconvenience."

‘WHAT?!’

"Though you've certainly been--"

He carried on speaking, but Honour was through listening, so she talked right over him. "An inconvenience, sir? Her Majesty Princess Celestia herself bestows on you one of the highest honors anypony in Equestria can receive, and it's an inconvenience?"

Her outburst silenced him, and he stared at the corporal, dumbfounded.

"That's what you think?? Was Her Majesty Princess Luna's visit also an inconvenience to you?"

She waved an angry hoof at the garbage piled up on his tables. "And is that why you sent us away in the afternoon? Were you worried we would be an inconvenience while you let dozens of ponies trot all over your chambers as if you -- and they -- owned the place?"

That same angry hoof pivoted around to point at Anonymous, By Appointment to Their Majesties Princess Celestia and Princess Luna, Royal Engineer of Equestria.

"You don't own the place, sir. You're an outsider, an alien, a visitor to Equestria, and you're here at the pleasure of its Princesses. So you had better treat the gifts they've given you with some damned respect!"

Her voice had grown into a shout, her face a visage of fury. "I won't serve somepony who doesn't respect the Sovereigns of Equestria or the gifts they bestow, inconvenient or not! So you can stay right here, and I'll go get you somepony who will!"

Trembling with rage and wearing a snarl, Honour turned on her heels and nearly charged at the door, practically battering it open, before slamming it shut behind her.

It was only when she was halfway down the hallway that her ears caught up with what her mouth had been doing. The realization hit her like a sledgehammer, and she shut her eyes as she headed up-stairs.

What the buck got into her? She just threw a tantrum at her VIP, cussing them out and refusing service! If Lieutenant Violetta didn't flay the very hide off her back, then at least she was certainly going to see her kicked out of the VIP service, probably issued with a reprimand, maybe busted down to Specialist, and possibly even dishonorably discharged from the Royal Guard.

‘Congratulations, Honour. You may just have thrown your career away.’

With bitter thoughts weighing heavily on her mind, she pushed open the door to her quarters.

Chapter 44

Lily Glamerspear

Specialist Lily Glamerspear was not hung over.

She did, however, have a headache.

And she was a bit groggy. And her mouth was awfully dry.

Not to mention how hard she was finding it to concentrate right now.

What was she thinking about again?

Oh, right.

The aftermath of yesterday's drinking party was this: Lily felt like crap. And somehow Sparkshower, despite being a lightweight who couldn't tell a vodka martini from a regular one, looked like she was doing just fine. What the hay was that about? Sparks didn't drink that much less than her, did she?

Or was it because she ate half a box of saltines afterwards? LILY’S saltines, specifically. How the heck did Artemis even know where to find those under her bed? Damn thieving pegasi, fluttering in and grabbing whatever they want.

And how was she just sitting there, fully dressed in her armor? At least she left her helmet off.

"I don't know how you can wear that stuff all the time, Sparks. Doesn't it weigh like a hundred pounds?"

She looked up from her paper and quill. "My armor? No, it's only about forty."

That sounded pretty heavy to Lily.

"That sounds pretty heavy to me."

Artemis just shrugged. "I've gotten used to it; it bothered me a bit in the beginning, after horseshoe camp, but now I don't mind it at all. I'm so used to it, sometimes I almost feel undressed without it."

‘'Undressed' without forty pounds of bronze on her, yeah right.’

Lily glanced at the pegasus’ piece of paper. "Still trying to write that letter to your coltfriend?"

Sparkshower nodded, frowning at her task. "Yes... It's a little tricky coming up with the right words."

Lily nodded, understanding her predicament a bit. "What kind of colt is he?"

Artemis looked up at her sharply, a flash of concern and fear on her face.

‘What was that about?’

Oh; did they get to talking about her coltfriend last night, maybe? That would probably do it. Lily hoped she didn't say anything too intrusive.

Lily just smiled and nodded. “I mean, what does he like? What's he into? Books, music, culture, you know?"

Artemis softened her frown. "Oh... Uh, well... He's kinda... traditional, I guess?"

Lily kept nodding. "He likes things plain and simple?"

"Yeah, I suppose."

"How does he feel about big cities like Canterlot?"

Lily saw one side of Artemis’ lip kinda curl up.

"I don't think he's a fan of them."

"Prefers the quiet of the countryside, huh?"

"He seems to, yes."

Lily paused for a moment. Artemis just sat there, motionlessly holding a quill. Licking her lips, she leaned in towards the pegasus.

"So how are you going to get your traditional country colt to come to the biggest, most extravagant party this big city throws?"

Sparkshower slouched in her seat, as if defeated by the question alone. "I don't know. I just want him to come for a few nights, but I can't think of the right words!"

She looked pleadingly up at Lily. "But he's got to come! I asked Anonymous for two tickets! He's got to! And it's the chance of a lifetime!"

That it was, but Lily knew the old saying: you can lead a colt to water, but you can't make 'em drink.

"How about you try being specific? The Gala's a big event. What do you want him to do the most?"

Lily’s junior comrade took a deep breath and pushed herself back up in her chair. Licking her lips, she put her forehooves on the table, and Lily saw some color creep back into her cheeks.

"Well... I'd really, really, really like to dance around one of the great Maypoles. With a ribbon in my mouth, my partner by my side..."

Artemis smiled, looking up and waving her hooves around, as if she was actually there. "We'd weave our ribbons together, and then circle around the Maypole, wrapping our pair around it, encircling the other ribbons and being encircled in turn."

Hmm, if he was a traditionalist, well, it sure sounded like she was, too. The Maypole was at best a secondary feature of the GGG; a relic from a time long ago.

"Maybe that sounds a bit foalish, but it's something I've always wanted to do, ever since I was a little filly, even before I knew what having a coltfriend meant."

Okay, that was kinda adorable.

Lily nodded her head at Artemis. "So talk about that, then. Tell him you want to tie a ribbon around the Maypole with him. It's kinda romantic, in a traditional kind of way -- and you said he's a traditional colt, so..."

Trailing off, Lily shrugged, and her pegasus bestie nodded. "Yeah, that's a good idea. I'll do that. Thanks, Lily!"

Well, at least one pony in the quaternion woke up in a good mood. Sergeant Ebonshield wasn’t even awake yet -- maybe she was still trying to adjust to working daylight hours?

Just as Sparkshower started to put her quill to paper, the hallway door flew open, and Corporal Bound came hustling right over to the card-table.

"Sparkshower, I need a favor."

Instantly, the pen was out of Artemis’ hoof, and Lily could see her hold back the urge to assume parade rest. "Yes, Corporal? Is everything all right?"

Up close, Lily got a better look at Honour. Was she sweating? The mare looked nervous. What just happened? By Lily’s reckoning, she’d only been on duty for all of ten minutes.

"I need you to cover my shift. I'll make it up to you whenever you want."

‘Huh?’

Was she hungover even worse than Lily was? Not that Lily was hungover.

Nooo, not hungover.

But she was a bit... y'know... hung... over.

Not like Sparkshower, next to her, who was pert and attentive.

"Uh... Sure, Corporal, I can do that! Are you feeling sick or something like that?"

In an uncharacteristic hurry, their Corporal nodded and booked it straight for her room. "Yeah, something like that, Artemis. And thanks."

Huh, she didn’t usually use first names, either. The sharp closing of her door was as usual, though.

‘What's going on here?’

Lily pondered the question as Artemis scrambled out of her chair and strapped on her helmet. "I guess the letter has to wait for now. Thanks for the advice, though, Lily!"

In her present, sluggish state, she barely had time to wave the pegasus off before she was out the door. Now that was some strange stuff. Too bad Lily was not in any kind of brain-state today to deal with it.

The door to Sergeant Ebonshield's quarters opened, and a very drowsy-looking batpony poked her head out, squinting in the morning light. "Specialist, was that the Corporal returning just now?"

She was whispering, so Lily got up and walked to her door, whispering back. "Yeah, Sarge. She just asked Sparkshower to cover her shift. She might be sick."

Rubbing her eyes with both hooves, the quaternion's most recent addition yawned and then shook her head. When she was done, she was no longer squinting, and looked almost more awake than Lily was.

‘What the Tartarus is this?’

Had everypony gotten less drunk than her? Besides maybe the Corporal, she supposed.

The wall-clock softly chimed half past the hour, and Lily was suddenly reminded of her daily appointment. “Uh, Sarge? I have to report to medical in fifteen minutes for a horn checkup. Are you able to back Sparkshower up?"

She nodded, staring at Honour's door. "Yes, I'm awake, you can go."

Lily followed her gaze. "Should I bring the Corporal with me, maybe? She didn't actually say she was sick; it was just sort of implied."

Ebonshield inhaled sharply, tilting her head back. "No. Go to your appointment. Leave the Corporal to me; I will check up on her shortly."

Lily nodded. "Sure thing, Sarge."

She headed for the door, hopeful that the medics would be taking off her spellbinders today, so she could get back to work.

It was probably because of her temporary unemployment that she’d suggested that little drinking party yesterday. If it was a mistake, and she was pretty certain it was, at least she felt a little more comfortable around everypony else now -- including, she would grudgingly admit, the batpony outsider.

Hopefully they felt the same way, too.

Purity Ebonshield

Suggested background music: Justin Bell - 'Spires', from 'Tyranny' [2016]
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i8f_hDms7yI

Sergeant First Class Purity Ebonshield was now fully awake. Glamerspear had left for her medical appointment almost an hour ago. While Corporal Bound had remained in her room, Ebonshield had taken a shower, gotten dressed, and even had a hot meal from the staff kitchen.

Nopony had taken any notice when she’d strolled into that basement room. Perhaps the time was still too early in the morning for them, or perhaps she simply looked like she belonged there.

Or, perhaps they had seen her kind before and simply did not care. There were rumors that some members of the Night Guard had been violating their morning curfew, and sneaking themselves late-morning snacks before returning to the mountain rookery. Whatever the case, trekking all the way into her usual dining room just for breakfast, when she needed to be on station to support Sparkshower, was obviously not feasible.

Ebonshield had simply taken a quick serving of some hot porridge in a bowl with a secure lid, and ate her meal back in the communal area of their quarters. If nothing else, the sound of her spoon clattering against the bowl would let the Corporal know she was up and about.

But she had not stirred from her room.

Was she truly sick?

Hmmm...

Walking in very quickly, speaking firmly and emotionally, and going straight to the bedroom rather than the washroom or even the infirmary… Those were not things that somepony physically ill would do.

No, this was definitely another kind of problem.

Corporal Bound had already had an hour to stew by herself, so now was time to stir the pot. Pushing her bowl away, Ebonshield got up and headed for her room. With one tufted ear leaned up against the wooden door, she softly knocked.

"Corporal? This is Sergeant Ebonshield. Are you all right?"

She could hear the creaking of bedsprings, the rustling of sheets, and then hooves on carpet.

"Yes, I'm all right."

The hoofsteps almost reached the door, and Ebonshield pulled away so as not to make the truth obvious that she was listening. Even though she was just on the other side, Bound did not open the door or say anything else.

Was she going to hold the door closed against her?

That would be surprisingly childish.

And Ebonshield was not in any mood to try to force her way in, anyways. She decided to stick with diplomacy. "Your comrades are concerned for you. May I come in?"

Even without listening closely, the batpony could hear her take another step forward.

"No..."

The handle rotated, and Honour Bound pulled the door open.

"... I'll come out."

Ebonshield looked the Corporal over. She had shed her helmet and her sabots, but not the rest of her armor. There were no signs of any illness, though.

She pointed with a wing towards the living room. "There is a bottle of fresh coffee on the table. Would you like some?"

The Corporal nodded, and while Ebonshield turned to get the mugs and the carafe, Honour Bound slowly made her way to the sofa, sitting down on it as if there were a heavy weight on her back.

Ebonshield remained impassive as she served the drinks and took her own seat in the club chair. Honour lifted her cup and sipped the hot drink, and Eb watched her carefully. The earth pony in charge of their quaternion was hunched forward, staring down through the table before her at something a thousand yards away.

Hmm, but she looked resigned, not afraid -- like a child who knew they had done something wrong, and was merely waiting for the sabot to drop.

After Honour had sipped some of her coffee, Ebonshield spoke up. "I hope you can forgive the 'Maestro Cazador' for cancelling your shift this morning. He is a very agreeable liquor when drunk in moderate quantities."

That brought a small smile to the Corporal's face, but she shook her head, still staring at that imaginary, far-away thing. "My hangover's not that bad. And it wasn't yesterday's drinking party that ended my shift."

Ebonshield took a sip of her own coffee. This really was an acquired taste, and she had not acquired one quite yet. With a beverage of such bitterness, drinking hers neat was a bit of a struggle. Still, she persevered -- the corporal was known to take hers 'black', after all. And the corporal sounded like she wanted to talk about that morning, so Ebonshield got straight to the point.

"What happened?"

Honour took a deep breath. "I refused him service."

‘Shadow, that was cryptic.’

Leaving the question of 'why' behind, Ebonshield cocked an eyebrow and decided to first focus on the denouement. "And so he dismissed you?"

She shook her head. "No. I trotted out, saying I'd get him somepony else."

Ebonshield nodded. "I see..."

Trailing off, she gave Honour a moment before she got to the root of the problem.

Surprisingly, Honour spoke first. "Sergeant, yesterday during the audience with Her Majesty Princess Luna, did you notice anything?"

That's a curious question, with several possible answers. But she was pretty sure she knew what the corporal was referring to, and Ebonshield chuckled, stretching her wings a bit.

"You mean, did I notice that the roof and the walls of the room ceased to exist, that the day turned to the night, and that the stars rained down like dust from the sky above?"

Smiling, Ebonshield nodded. “Yes, I did notice this."

The Corporal, still hunched over, looked curiously up at her. "Have you been in Her Majesty's presence before?"

Ebonshield nodded again. "Sí, I have."

Honour’s eyes narrowed. "Many times?"

"Yes, many."

She sat up a bit, and licked her lips.

"How did it make you feel?"

Some very curious questions, indeed. Wasn’t this supposed to be about what happened this morning, and not the yesterday morning?

Ebonshield took a moment to think her answer over before replying.

"It made me feel..."

Inhaling deeply, she tried to remember specifically how the Mother-of-Stars' Presence affected her most recently.

"... Content. Gratified, perhaps."

These were common emotions, but this was a bit different, sharing the Mother's Presence with those who were not her Children.

"I felt assured of Her Majesty's plan, and the role I was playing in it."

Corporal Bound nodded her head. "Is that how you felt the first time?"

Ebonshield could not help but chuckle again. "Oh, no. The first time, I was completely enthralled..."

That was not quite the best way to describe this, but she could not manage one better. She shrugged. "Her Presence is still awesome even now, of course -- repetition does not diminish her -- but since I expect this, I can maintain my wits."

Honour put a hoof up to her chin, looking away again.

"Do you know what I felt? Pride."

The corporal nodded to herself, then turned back to the Sergeant, squinting. "More than anything else, once the experience was over, I felt proud of what I do. Proud to be in the Royal Guard. Proud to be guarding a Very Important Pony. Proud to be serving Princess Luna, and by extension, all of Equestria."

The corporal looked away and took another sip of her coffee, before shaking her head, looking wistful.

"... I haven't felt proud of what I do in a long time."

She glanced in Ebonshield’s direction. "Are you planning to stay in the VIP service once this assignment is over? Find another VIP?"

Ebonshield laughed awkwardly. "So far I have no complaints, but I think that for a batpony, this is a one-time opportunity only."

"Yeah... You'd better finish that 'VIP Service Training' course ASAP, though."

"And why should I do this?"

Her reply was matter-of-fact, and devoid of the emotion Ebonshield knew must be behind it.

"So you can take charge of this quaternion."

Oh, so they were going to have this conversation also? Well, getting this out of the way would be good, at least.

"Why should I wish to take charge?"

The corporal looked up, and Ebonshield thought she was about to say 'because I'll be gone,' but instead she paused and looked askance at her.

Yes, she had picked up on her innuendo.

"What do you mean, why? Those were Lieutenant Violetta's orders."

Deciding to still play a few games with her, Ebonshield stretched out a wing, wrapped the limb around forward, and nonchalantly scratched her appendage with a hoof. "Corporal, how long have you been in the VIP Service?"

"A year and a half."

"And you have served many different VIPs?"

"Six of them, so far."

"No doubt you have had to deal with many different situations in this time, yes?"

She nodded. "Yes."

"More than you trained for?"

"Sure."

With a sigh, Ebonshield put her wing away as if she had fixed whatever imaginary problem had been there. "And how exactly are a few hours in a classroom going to make me your equal?"

Before she could reply, the batpony shook her head and continued on. "No, Corporal. I will not attend the VIP Service Training. I will instead make the excuses to Majordomo Violetta, and follow somepony with experience in the VIP service -- somepony who also has lived in Equestria for all of her life."

Smiling, Ebonshield shrugged. "I will of course be happy if she does, on the occasions when this is appropriate, permit me to speak the advice."

Honour muttered her reply. "You might not have a choice."

This depression of hers was starting to become irritating! She was forcing her to take a most circuitous route to the truth. Ebonshield was able to follow the path, to be certain, but this was still a nuisance.

"Ah, yes? Because Majordomo Violetta will remove you for the refusal this morning? The refusal for the reasons unspecified, except that perhaps they have something to do with the pride?"

Then again, there was something amusing about unravelling a mystery.

Honour Bound opened her mouth to say something, but Ebonshield cut her off. "We have avoided together this subject for a few minutes; let us continue to avoid her for a little while longer, and see where she leads us."

The Corporal chuckled, and a smile -- a genuine one -- crept onto her face. She seemed to relax a bit, the tension partially relieved. There was a long way still to go, but reaching the end in this manner would be better..

"How old are you, Ebonshield?"

Ahh, there was a question very loaded. The corporal thought Ebonshield had no ambition, perhaps? That she must be an old nag, to so easily be broken to her reins? This was not true, but Ebonshield’s answer was not likely to change her mind.

"This summer, I will be forty-three."

Honour exhaled sharply, shaking her head. "Tartarus. You're old enough to be my mother, though you don't look it." Scoffing, she raised her eyebrows. "But forty-three's a bit old for a Sergeant First Class."

Ebonshield nodded in agreement. "Yes. This is as I told the Majordomo: the Night Guard has no such rank system, so 'Sergeant First Class' was simply chosen as the most appropriate. They made this known that you are a corporal, and I did not wish to greatly outrank you, nor appear to be obviously lying."

Corporal Bound seemed to accept this, tilting her head back to finish her coffee cup. "Fair enough. And if I hadn't asked, I wouldn't have thought differently."

As Honour reached over to grab the coffee container, Ebonshield smirked. "And how old is my would-be daughter, the corporal, then?"

She poured herself a second cup, more energetically than when she first sat down. "I 'celebrated' my twenty-fourth birthday just before this assignment."

She blew on her drink to cool it, but far more forcefully than necessary. "... As if I had anything to celebrate."

Suddenly, she shook her head and put the coffee down.

"... Sorry. I don't mean to be so negative, I just..."

The corporal grit her teeth, and Ebonshield could tell she was holding back tears. She could prompt her to continue, but Ebonshield knew she would do so, in her own good time. So, she sat and waited.

A couple of thin wet streaks did appear on her cheeks, despite her attempt to fight them. Casually, Bound lifted a hoof and wiped them away.

“I got into this racket -- the Royal Guard, I mean -- with too much optimism for my own good. When the boring, stupid reality hit, it hit hard."

She sighed again, relaxing further as the tension was exhausted. “Pretty soon, I wanted out. I learned that the VIP service was the best way to have work lined up after End of Active Service, so I went for it. And as much as I tried to lower my expectations, the pointlessness of the job far outstripped them."

Honour licked her lips and picked up the coffee-cup, taking a quick sip before the cup was placed back down on the table.

"You know Anonymous is the first VIP I've ever had who said more than two words to his guards? Most VIPs don't even acknowledge we exist. We all walk in saying, 'Corporal So-and-so reporting for duty,' but eventually it gets to the point where you don't even get a nod or grunt in response, so you don't even bother saying hello any more. You just quietly show up and sit by the door and look impressive, while the VIP goes about their pointless bullshit -- and I do mean pointless bullshit. Bureaucrats sitting behind desks don't get VIP bodyguards, which is a shame, because I could at least respect a bean-counter. That's what I thought Anonymous was, in the beginning."

She paused again -- paused on the subject of Anonymous, Ebonshield noted -- so she decided to lead the Corporal along. "What kinds of VIPs do receive Royal Guards?"

The question seemed to infuse new life into her.

"Well, your typical single male VIP is a wealthy playcolt with a healthy disregard for anypony but themselves. They're a noble who's too young to have their own household yet, but are attending court anyways, or maybe they're in the military service; either way, they're pretentious and utterly useless. I almost hope Kilfeather gives their like a solid bloodying with his 'Pas de Sabots' on that other bridge."

After another sip -- again, putting the cup all the way down on the table, instead of holding her drink in her hoof; a sign of nervousness? -- she gave a wry smile. Despite her tight-lipped demeanor, she really could be quite talkative when she was in a mood for the words.

"Foreigners? You might think a foreign ambassador would have some manners, and they do, but they also come with or hire their own guards. The VIP service gets the visiting dignitaries who don't have their own travelling retinue, and they're basically the equivalent of the locals who would have received bodyguards here, so it's all the same, except they're even more likely to treat other ponies like dirt because it's not their country, after all."

She sighed, and looked like she almost wanted to spit. "It honestly made me wonder why Princess Celestia even bothered with the whole setup."

Ebonshield finished her coffee, and slowly put the cup down on the table in front of her. Honour noticed this, and grabbed the carafe to pour her another, but Ebonshield waved her off. Honour looked lost in thought once more.

This time Ebonshield gave her a shove rather than a gentle push. "And you thought that the Royal Engineer, despite being a 'bean-counter', would be much the same?"

The question seemed to put her on guard, and she licked her lips, glancing sideways at the batpony.

"Yes."

She went on, but she still could not bring herself to look Ebonshield in the eyes.

“But he's not. He's doing things, doing work. Writing a book about his own world's science and industry, number-crunching with the Chancellor of the Exchequer, bringing in greedy miscreant landlords to face justice, getting his hooves -- hands, I mean -- dirty building who-knows-what contraption, though I'm sure it's wonderfully useful. I'll even give him credit for having the backbone to stand up to Kilfeather; most VIPs would have surrendered Sparkshower and gone on their way."

Ebonshield nodded agreeably. To be honest, she knew almost nothing about the work of the Royal Engineer. She had heard a little through Sparkshower when she had discussed the 'Pas de Sabots,' but the pegasus herself knew few of the details. And anyways, this had not been necessary that Ebonshield should think highly of Anonymous; the Mother-of-Stars thought highly of him, and that was enough. But, that she should find herself thinking as Her Majesty did was good.

Honour finished her second cup before continuing. "Working for him was just barely starting to make up for all the terrible VIP's I'd had to serve. And then Princess Luna visited yesterday."

She paused, but not to collect herself -- this was for emphasis, and she looked straight at Ebonshield again.

"It was enthralling, as you said. And it was gratifying, and contenting, and assuring, as well. She made me feel good about my job again. And she made me feel good about myself, too."

Then the Corporal stalled once more, and Ebonshield could easily guess what the next subject was to be.

"But Anonymous this morning has done something to make you feel bad again."

Ebonshield saw her suck her lips in, and the corporal shook her head slowly. "Yesterday, while we were up here drinking, he had teams of workponies in his chambers, moving furniture, taking out documents, and bringing in tools and other materials."

‘Hmm, is he not allowed to do what he pleases in his own room?’

"This is not permitted?"

She grimaced, as if speaking the next words physically hurt her. "Strictly speaking, no. There's supposed to be somepony with him as an honor guard whenever he's alone or in public company. Technically, he doesn't even have permission to dismiss us as he did; we're supposed to have full responsibility for our schedule, and it's our heads if he's ever unguarded. But I was so stirred up by Luna's visit, when he said he'd do fine alone in the afternoon and evening, I didn't even think to ask him if he had any plans."

Ah, yes, the frustration most classic: to be angry at one's self for allowing another to abrogate their own responsibilities.

"What he did yesterday... it's not actually that big of a deal, though this morning I made like it was."

‘The plot thickens!’

Ebonshield resisted the urge to put on a sly smile. But she could not resist the urge to ask an amusing question. "If we suppose that the Royal Engineer had a guest most private in his chambers, or visited the same somewhere else, during the working hours...?"

The Corporal got her meaning. "If we can't stay in the room, then we're supposed to stand watch outside the door."

"Of course."

There was another, awkwardly long pause as Honour worked herself down into seriousness again.

"He joked about the arrangement as well. Said he'd always felt safe walking around the palace halls anytime of day. I said that what he did before was irrelevant. And then..."

She sighed.

This was the one, the root of the problem. Ebonshield almost held her breath in anticipation.

"... He said having guards almost sounded like 'an inconvenience.'"

Honour shrugged. "I don't know why, but that word just... stung me. He was joking when he said it, I'm sure, but it still hurt -- hurt my pride, my honor, my self-respect."

Once again, she turned away from Ebonshield, unable to carry on speaking to her face.

This was definitely something to get used to, the way these Equestrians liked to talk at a distance. Things were so much clearer when speaking muzzle to muzzle!

"Everything wonderful that Princess Luna had built up yesterday came crashing down. And it was as if all the positive things I'd thought about him snapped right back into the negative. He was just another arrogant, self-centred, miscreant VIP, undeserving of the Princess' grace."

She took one last deep breath, and then looked up at her. "... I told him as much. And now I'm upstairs."

Corporal Honour Bound lifted her forehooves up in the air and then let them drop down beside her. "But probably not for long. As soon as he reports the incident to Lieutenant Violetta, I'll be out of here, one way or another."

So this was the problem, then. Ebonshield suspected that she was perhaps overreacting, but then again, what did she know of Equestrian VIPs?

Heh, except that Anonymous was just as alien here as Ebonshield was, if not more so, what with not having any hooves, and not having grown up anywhere near their world. Though he’d been free to walk around for longer than she had.

Ebonshield was about to say something reassuring, when there were hoofsteps at the door, which swung open without a knock. Both of the mares looked up as Specialist Glamerspear entered the room. She still had the metal cone around her horn.

"Oh, hey Corporal. I'm just getting back from medical."

Honour nodded at the head ornament. "Still spellbound?"

The unicorn did not look happy about this. "Yeah. They said it'd be another day or two."

She paused, looking the Corporal up and down, looking in her direction as she closed the door.

"... How 'bout you? Are you alright?"

The Corporal shuffled slightly in her seat.

"I'll be fine."

Glamerspear did not look as if she believed Honour, but she declined to press the question further. "Good. Well, since I'm still basically off-duty, unless anypony needs me right now, I figured I'd go do some laps in the field."

The unicorn shrugged. "I mean, what the hay, this junk on my horn gets me a pass on PPT, but I'd still better stay in shape, right? I'll be back after lunch."

Honour Bound nodded. "Sure."

Before Glamerspear could turn around and head out, Ebonshield heard hoofsteps in the hallway, and there was a knock at the door.

‘Hmm, Sparkshower would not bother knocking.’

Looking over at Corporal Bound, she saw a look of serious concern on her face. Could that be Lieutenant Temper Violetta, already there to scold or dismiss her? A very quick turnaround if so. Unaware of the concerns of her Corporal, Glamerspear casually pulled the door open.

There was a clean-cut young pegasus colt standing at the door, with a violet cap and matching tunic. "Delivery for a Corporal Bound?"

"...That's me."

On the sofa beside Ebonshield, the recipient looked completely confused. She was also so lethargic that she did not get up, even as the pegasus was already reaching into his saddle-bag for the delivery. He delicately hoofed over a loosely-wrapped, conical package to Glamerspear.

"Here you are. Have a nice day." With a smile and a tip of his hat, he left.

Glamerspear shut the door again, then walked over to the sofa and chairs. "Special occasion today, Corporal? Did you have a birthday without telling us?"

The Corporal just shook her head, still confused.

Glamerspear put the delivery down in front of Honour, who slowly reached forward and pulled on the bow-knot of string holding the package together. Once so loosened, a large flap of the wrapping paper naturally unfolded itself. Inside was a nice bouquet of colorful flowers, and they instantly filled the room with the fresh smell of spring.

Honour stared at it, more confused than ever.

Her reaction just seemed to amuse Glamerspear. "OOOOH, looks like somepony's got an admirer! What's it say on the card?"

There was indeed a small white card visible just underneath the rest of the packaging. The Corporal picked this up, holding the card in both hooves, as she read the contents aloud.

"With sincerest apologies, Anonymous."

‘¡Guau!’

Chapter 45

Lily Glamerspear

Things were just about to get interesting. The unforeseen arrival of flowers from the Royal Engineer, and the regretful note accompanying them, had completely stupefied Corporal Bound. Ordinarily, Lily would have been all up in her face with questions about it, but this time she’d taken it slow; Honour Bound didn't look like she was in much condition to answer. From the shared reaction of the Sergeant and the Corporal, they had probably already discussed what happened this morning. And the delivery had been so unexpected as to strike both of them dumb.

Lily even had to point out, after a very long and awkward silence, that the flowers ought to be put in a vase. Not that the Corporal had one, of course. It wasn't exactly on the Royal Guard's standard Table of Allowances. A canteen would do in a pinch -- she'd used one herself on a few occasions, when dealing with particularly flirtatious or romantic salt-licks. But it was a bit... 'field-tent chic.'

Luckily, the small buffet server in the living room area had a second copper water jug in it. It was perfectly sized to hold the bouquet, and Lily remembered somepony telling her that copper vessels kept flowers fresh for longer. Something about the metal?

Whatever.

In short order, the sweet-smelling bundle was sitting pretty on the coffee table, adding a little color to their otherwise fairly humble servants' quarters. And since neither Sergeant Ebonshield nor Corporal Bound had been in any kind of talking mood, Lily had let them be, going to do her PPT exercises as previously planned.

Yeah, the horngear had earned Lily a few funny looks in the training fields. The damn cone kept bouncing around, clonking into her helmet, and the shackles jangled heavily with every hoofstep she took. That was the price of wrecking one of her creepy exes, though, and the medical attachments were only going to be with her for a few more days.

Hopefully.

With Lily’s Pony Physical Training routine taken care of, she’d gotten lunch, returned to her quarters for a quick shower, and then started on some more of that ancient 'De Magia Unicornis' treatise.

That was three hours ago.

While Ebonshield had retreated into privacy, before leaving to begin her shift, Honour had remained in a stupor, shuffling idly between her bedroom and the sofa, and still half-wearing her armor. She'd spent a lot of time staring at the flowers.

And a lot more time just staring at the wall in her room.

It wasn't just boredom, though. Lily could tell the corporal was on edge about something. Heck, she’d even flipped through the issues of 'Cosmoponitan' and 'Canterlot Match' scattered on the coffee-table. Not with any real interest, just as something to do. That big book penned by the Royal Engineer, though, was conspicuously absent from her idle reading activities. There was definitely something going on, and as soon as Sparkshower got back, Lily was going to get some real dirt on the situation.

The clock on the wall softly ticked away the minutes. Lily spied the Corporal glancing up at it as well, and the unicorn knew she was waiting just as anxiously for the next shift change as her. It was ten after four; Sparks should be up any second now…

There was the unmistakable clomp noise of four hooves in heavy sabots touching down just outside their shared rooms, and the door opened. Specialist Sparkshower walked right on in, with a smile on her face.

"Hi, Honour! Hi, Lily -- Oh, good, you got the flowers! Aren't they pretty?"

Instantly, the Corporal bolted upright and scrambled to her hooves, more animated than Lily had seen her all day. "You knew about them?!"

Sparkshower laughed off the question with a playful giggle. "Well, of course, Corporal! I was on duty with the Royal Engineer when he bought them."

As the armored pegasus pulled off her helmet and headed to her room, Lily’s brown earth-pony Corporal moved to intercept her. "What happened? What did he say? What do they mean??"

Artemis paused in front of her door, her smile turning to amused confusion. "I don't understand, Corporal, don't you like the arrangement? I helped him choose a little bit, you know! I thought they were really pretty when we left the store."

Honour shut her eyes and sighed, and Lily got the sense that she truly was exhausted. That was probably as much from the late night full of drinking -- combined with whatever happened that morning -- as it was from the tension of waiting for Sparkshower to come back with fresh news.

When Honour opened her eyes again, she took a deep breath and focused on Sparkshower. "Could you just tell me what happened when you took over my shift?"

The golden-maned pegasus shrugged. "Sure, Corporal. It's not really complicated. I reported in, and the Royal Engineer asked how the quaternion was doing. I said we were all getting along well since yesterday. He said that was good, and he asked if you were alright. I said that you seemed to be. Then I asked him what had happened."

Honour leaned in towards Sparkshower, her voice taking on a slightly frantic edge. "How did he answer?"

The pegasus just shook her head and smiled. "Just that he'd said something mean which had upset you. And that he wanted to apologize. He asked me if I thought flowers and a card would be appropriate. I said I thought they would, and then we went straight out to a really fancy flower-shop -- Eliza's Efflorescences in Floral Street, near the Royal Opera House. They had a huge selection of fresh spring flowers. The salespony was recommending roses for an apology bouquet, but they weren't really in season. I suggested the daffodils and the tulips, and Anonymous agreed, and he picked out some nice crocus and bluebell, too, then the salespony finished it with--"

Honour cut her off. "That's all he told you? That he'd said something which had upset me?"

Sparkshower almost looked disappointed that she didn't get to finish describing all the flowers in the bouquet. "That's all. I didn't want to pry into the details..."

She frowned and looked down at the ground. "... Though, I didn't think the Royal Engineer would ever say something upsetting. He seems like a real gentlecolt..."

With pleading eyes, Specialist Sparkshower looked up again at Corporal Bound. "You'll accept his apology, won't you, Corporal? I wouldn't want to have to leave such a nice VIP, or to break up our team, especially not now when we're really getting along so well!"

Honour looked the same way she did when the flowers first arrived: stunned, with a glazed-over look in her eyes. It took her a moment before she shook herself out of it.

"Yeah, Sparkshower. I'll tell him I accept his apology tomorrow morning during my shift."

This pleased the pegasus. "Oh, good! Okee, I'm going to get changed and have a quick rinse before dinner."

Corporal Bound gave their comrade a half-hearted nod, and from across the room, Lily shot an approving glance in Artemis’ direction as well.

As the pegasus headed into her room with a smile on her face, the Corporal slowly plodded towards her own door -- right next to the card-table where Lily was sitting.

"Corporal."

Failing to get her attention, Lily tried again, leaning over and speaking more loudly. "CORPORAL?"

With a snap, Honour looks up at her, wordless.

‘Geez, she was really out of it.’

"Are you all right?"

Frowning, Honour licked her lips. "Yeah, I think so."

That was hardly confidence-inspiring. And she was supposed to be in charge of the quaternion like this?

"O-kay... And are you going to tell Sparkshower and me what really happened this morning?"

Ah, the familiar dispassionate, vaguely disapproving gaze returned to the Corporal's face. It was a welcome sight, prompting a grin to grow on Lily’s own mug. "I didn't ask earlier because it seemed like you needed some time to figure something out. Since we share the same professional relationship with the Royal Engineer, I figure we ought to stay on the same page, right?"

There was a moment where Honour tensed up, annoyed at Lily’s prying into her private affairs. Then she relaxed again, nodding. "Tomorrow, after my shift."

It'll have to do.

"Sure thing. You going to come to dinner with us?"

Honour stepped into her bedroom just as Sparkshower emerged from her own, fully stripped of her armor, and heading for the washroom.

"Yeah. Holler when Sparkshower's done with her shower."

Two doors closed, and Lily was left alone in the living room. She turned back to her book, but she didn’t have the energy for heavy theoretical reading right then. Whatever happened that morning, it seemed like Anonymous considered himself at fault. But from the way Honour was behaving, either he didn't just say something outrageous, but actually did something outrageous...

...Or else he wasn't the one with anything to apologize for.

Hrm.

If Ebonshield really did get the full story out of Honour while Lily was in medical, then who knows what she could be telling Anonymous right now while she was working the evening shift…

Purity Ebonshield

"Specialist Sparkshower, I relieve you."

"Sergeant Ebonshield, I stand relieved."

Stellar Purity Ebonshield had just realized that she forgot to ask yesterday if there was some kind of ritual exchange that she should be conducting during shift changes. Thankfully, Sparkshower had rolled along with her more ordinary instruction.

The young pegasus gave her a cheerful smile as she passed out of the room. She was deceptively sharp, that pony. With a little more experience under her saddle, she would do very well.

As Ebonshield settled into her place in front of the door, she surveyed the scene before her. It was as Corporal Bound described; the study of the Royal Engineer had been partially transformed into some kind of workshop. A thankfully clean and neat kind, at least.

There was no smell of the oils as in a smithy or the strange herbs as in an alchemist’s shop. Instead, it was simply a series of workbenches, covered in what, to Ebonshield, appeared like nothing more than scraps of metal and various tools.

"Good afternoon, Sergeant."

Anonymous, the Engineer Royal -- Royal Engineer -- had turned around in his stool to face her. The white smock he wore over top his suit had a couple of small oil blotches, but was otherwise pristine -- a testament to the cleanliness of his environment of work.

Ebonshield closed her eyes and gave a respectful bow. "Good afternoon, Great Lord."

Raising her head again, she found that her VIP was still looking expectantly in her direction.

His thoughts were obvious.

"...There is a matter I should like to discuss, if the Great Lord can spare time for his humble servant."

Anonymous turned slightly to put down the strange device he was holding in one hand. "By all means, Sergeant."

She took a few steps forward into the room. "This is in regards to the matter I raised two days ago, as to the Great Lord's relationship with his guardsponies."

The Royal Engineer's eyes went wide, and Ebonshield could see his cheeks go beet red. It was a bit mean of her to tease him this way, but she couldn’t help herself. And besides, she was educating him.

Anonymous raised his hand, holding up one finger, and started to babble as only a colt could. "Now, Sergeant, I'm worried that you may be misconstruing my action here..."

Now standing comfortably in front of him, she feigned ignorance. "Which action is that, Great Lord?"

Instantly, the Royal Engineer's panic disappeared, and he looked at Ebonshield askance, concerned that he'd misunderstood her. Well, he'd misunderstood her actual intention, but he certainly fell right into her trap.

"I was referring to the flowers I had delivered to Corporal Bound. They did arrive upstairs, didn't they?"

Lifting her eyebrows, Ebonshield pretended to act surprised. "Oh, that action. Yes, Great Lord, the flowers arrived shortly before lunch-time."

She left things at that, as if that was all there was. There was an awkward pause before Anonymous prompted her to continue.

"Er, and did the Corporal... say anything?"

"Of course, Great Lord. She had a great number of things to say..." Taking a deep breath, she glanced away momentarily. "...But I should not wish to steal her words. The Great Lord will be pleased to hear them from the mouth of the Corporal herself tomorrow morning."

Furrowing his brow, Anonymous looked down, fidgeting with his hands for a second, before looking up, somewhat confused. "But... does she accept my apology?"

Allowing herself a few more theatrics before getting to the real point, she once again appeared indifferent. "Accepts? Why yes, Great Lord, I believe that she does."

A warm smile filled the Royal Engineer's face once more. "Oh, good. I didn't want to think that she'd be leaving my service over my amateur failure to understand Equestrian culture."

Taking a breath of relief, he waggled his finger and shook his head. "Heh, you had me worried there for a moment, thinking that she had taken it the wrong way."

Oh, this was an opportunity altogether too good to pass up. One more little teasing prod wouldn’t hurt.

"Which way is that, Great Lord?"

The smile disappeared, and the frown returned. "Well... When you said you wanted to talk about my 'relationship' with guardsponies, I thought you were, er... talking about..." He trailed off a bit, seeming to have difficulty finding the words.

These Equestrian colts and their inability to speak straight!

Then again, the Royal Engineer was not truly Equestrian. Though the batpony got the sense that the society he came from was probably closer to the local culture in her taboos and sensitivities than to the culture of Ebonshield's people on the Moon.

She once again made an exaggerated motion with her head. "Ahh... The Great Lord thought I was implying that the elegant bouquet had been treated as a romantic gesture. I can assure the Great Lord that this was not the case..."

Relieved, the Royal Engineer deflated himself, slouching in his chair, and looking away.

"It would have needed at least a box of chocolates as well to be considered as such."

Anonymous paused, blinked his eyes, and then looked back at her with a critical eye. He paused to look her over.

"Sergeant, I have the distinct impression that I'm being toyed with."

Ebonshield smiled. "Yes, Great Lord. I trust this has been edifying, and entertaining, also."

That was a risky admission, but there was a relief -- and a confirmation of what she’d observed of the Royal Engineer -- when his critical eye was replaced with a wry smile.

"Alright, Sergeant, that'll do."

He turned to get back to his work, so she spoke up. "I beg the Great Lord's forgiveness, but there is actually a matter I wished to discuss in seriousness -- that of arranging for the training in combat."

Anonymous returned to face her, a somewhat wary look on his face. "And? I already agreed, didn't I?"

Ebonshield gave a courteous bow. "Indeed, and I have already begun to make preparations. However, there are some details to discuss. Firstly, there is the matter of the panoply of the Great Lord..."

He lifted an eyebrow.

"Without the equipment proper, conducting the training is both inappropriate and dangerous. Yet, as the Great Lord is not any kind of pony, such equipment may be difficult and expensive to procure. Knowing this, does the Great Lord still wish to proceed?"

The Royal Engineer considered for a moment, before shrugging. "I have a personal stipend from the Princesses; I suppose I might as well spend it. This stuff..."

He looked over and waved at the table full of tools, wood, and metal. "... doesn't count against it. Anything related to my actual business is expensed directly from the Royal Treasury. I suppose a suit of armour and a weapon are reasonable uses of my allowance, given the circumstances."

Anonymous turned back to her. "I still don't think I should have to fight, but as you made clear on Tuesday, that may be inevitable, and I agree it's better to be safe than to be sorry. The nobility of Equestria are, on some level, still expected to be defenders of the realm, and I suppose I am a kind of noble, after all."

A commendably logical answer. Ebonshield bowed in acknowledgement. "Excellent. I shall make the necessary arrangements with full confidence of the Great Lord. However, as I myself am somewhat of a stranger here, I should also require the services of Specialist Sparkshower in this quest. Does the Great Lord know if his schedule would permit the absence of two members of his quaternion for much of a single day -- perhaps even tomorrow?"

"You mean do I know if I'll be having any visitors? Hmm..."

The Royal Engineer got to his feet and walked over to his writing-desk. Once there, he flipped through a small appointment-book.

"... I don't have anything scheduled, but things do sometimes come up at the last minute..."

He looked up at her from the desk. "... How about I make the decision in the morning, will that work?"

She nodded her head. "The Great Lord is most reasonable."

Anonymous walked back towards the workbench. "All right. Was there anything else?"

Shaking her head, she gave a salute."No, Great Lord. That was all I wished to discuss."

He nodded, and Ebonshield headed back to the door to take up her post.

"Sergeant?"

She turned around to find Anonymous standing next to his stool, leaning one hand on the seat while the other was planted on his hip. "... Are all batponies teases, or is it just you?"

‘Ah, flattery!’

Ebonshield smiled as she turned around and sat down in front of the doors. "As the Great Lord will doubtless meet more Children of the Stars in short order, having been charged with a quest by the Mother-of-Stars herself, I trust that he shall be able to decide that issue for himself."

The lips of the Engineer Royal wrinkled up into a knowing smile, and he nodded at her, before sitting down with a chuckle.

Settling in to her evening shift ensuring the safety of her VIP extradimensional, Ebonshield did sincerely hope that Corporal Bound came out of her stupor and managed to return to duty. While true that the sitting in front of the doors, watching somepony scribble the words or tinker with the tools could be quite mindlessly dull, for her to leave would be a waste of what seemed to have already been, and promised to continue to be, a most interesting assignment!

Chapter 46

Honour Bound

It hadn’t been an easy night for Corporal Bound. Yesterday, she’d woken up tired, a little hungover, still shaken by her religious experience the prior morning, and regretful of how she had conducted herself that afternoon. Today, the hangover and religious ecstasy had faded, but her exhaustion and regret had grown more than enough to replace them.

While Honour had been off getting drunk, her Very Important Pony – who wasn’t actually a pony – had violated a facet of the arcane Equestrian social contract for those granted the noble privilege of a private Affinity: the right to have an armed retinue. When she had confronted him with the knowledge of this violation, unintentional though it may have been, he’d responded with a joke that, to her, denigrated not only her service, but the very systems and traditions of Equestria. This had upset her so much that she had refused him service, all but cussing him out as she’d left.

The reasons for her actions were... complicated.

And they were certainly not worth getting into now, as she headed towards his chambers once again.

Lack of self-control aside, everything that she had done was bad enough as it was. But then, her VIP had taken the inconceivable step of sending his apologies. And according to Specialist Sparkshower, he had done so with sincerity and genuine remorse.

It was numbing, and Honour had spent nearly the whole day sulking about. That night, any actual bouts of sleep were merely brief punctuation marks between the twisted dreams of a confused mind.

Now it was morning, and although her panic had gone, the dread remained. Not a dread of the long-term future -- unless she had seriously misread things, it was clear that the Royal Engineer didn't want her to leave his service, and that he wasn't about to have her disciplined or dismissed. Which was not to say that it might not still happen without him intending it, but she generally felt that her career was safe, at least.

Instead, like a filly giving a presentation in school, Honour was filled with the puerile dread of figuring out just what to say.

Honour rounded the corner, and Anonymous' white double doors loomed in the distance, on the left side, near the end of the hallway. He was owed an apology; that was the absolute minimum.

But he deserved so much more than that.

When Honour had made the brief trek downstairs yesterday, she had been musing about the batpony Ebonshield's part in the quaternion. Now the subject of her thoughts was her own role.

Honour wasn't a highborn noble, schooled from birth in the intricate details of court life. She’d known a little bit from popular culture and basic schooling, the same as anypony else. Princesses and Princes, Lords and Ladies, bowing and kneeling, sir-ing and ma'am-ing, accompanied by a general respect for the power of the institution of nobility.

Despite Sergeant Ebonshield's opinion, the VIP training classes really did do a respectable job of filling in many of the gaps. And Honour had spent one and a half years in this specialized service, picking up most of the other details along the way. But she wasn’t in any position to be teaching anypony anything about it, was she?

Honour paused, standing on the wide ribbon of red-and-cream carpet that lay on top of the palace's checkerboard-pattern floor, staring at the doors ahead and to her left.

Anonymous couldn't have known anything about the social contracts of this world when he'd arrived here. Yet, he'd not just survived, but thrived, reaching the loftiest halls of power in the matter of a few months. Was it really all down to determination and a bit of luck?

Honour considered her own situation. Yes, she was just a corporal; the lowest position of any actual leadership in the Guard. But she had come from a pretty low station in life, knowing nothing of noble pleasures and luxuries. Now she was in the exclusive VIP service, with decorated guardsponies in her charge. She’d spent that time travelling among the rich and powerful of Equestrian society -- J. P. Mustang, the Privy Council, even Her Majesty Princess Luna in pony. Honour used to think she hadn't made much of her life, and maybe she had squandered some of her potential -- but, in that moment of reflection in one of Canterlot Castle's calm, quiet, hallways, she realized that she hadn't done that badly, after all.

And the key was to not go on wasting herself.

Honour considered what Princess Luna had asked of Anonymous yesterday. He'd known nothing of batponies, not even the legends and myths. He barely even knew Equestrian history and culture. But when Princess Luna tasked him with helping her repair a thousand-year rift with creatures who had been sworn to attain domination over all of Equestria, he didn't flinch. He'd finished his biscuit, put down his coffee, and calmly, collectedly, said he would do whatever he could.

Was that sort of confidence all it took?

Honour decided that it was. She knew enough about noble traditions, and Anonymous had shown himself more than willing to listen. Fate hadn't refused him an expert social teacher when it had assigned Sergeant Ebonshield to the quaternion. Fate had simply acknowledged that Honour was the expert; she just had to rise to the challenge.

She would rise to the challenge.

Lifting her head and taking a deep breath, the earth pony corporal seemed to inhale confidence itself. As the experience with Princess Luna two days ago had filled her with renewed faith in the nation as a whole, her simple conclusion after a restless night now filled her with a kind of boldness that she hadn’t felt since she first joined the Guard.

No longer dreading the colt on the other side of the doors, she proceeded forwards once again.

Yes, she would take charge of the Royal Engineer, guiding him through the shallow waters of noble society. She would show him the truth that Princess Luna reopened her eyes to see: that in Equestria, good ponies work together to achieve great things.

Because friendship truly is magic.

Brimming with courage, and allowing a determined smile to creep onto her face, Honour knocked on the door.

"Come in."

Yesterday, Honour opened that door full of confidence that the Princesses could solve all the world's problems, with the help of their trusted lieutenants such as the Royal Engineer. Today, she opened it with the self-assurance that she numbered among them, as well.

"Corporal Bound reporting for duty, sir!"

Anonymous was sitting on a stool in front of the workbenches, hunched over some contraption. He turned around and looked up at her, and all the words she had ready in her head melted away in an instant. Unlike all the scenarios her mind had managed to dream up last night, he wasn't cold or angry. His usual warm, friendly smile was there, but it was heavily suppressed by an apprehensive caution. And he looked tired.

"Good morning, Corporal."

She swallowed, unable to reply. Where did the words go? They were on her tongue just a moment ago. It would almost be easier if he was angry with her!

Closing her eyes for a moment, Honour reopened them, licked her lips, and pawed at the ground with one hoof.

‘All I have to do is apologize for yesterday.’

‘Why is this so hard?’

"Sir, I... uhm..."

‘Pull yourself together, Honour!’

"... About yesterday, sir..."

She trailed off again, unable to string together enough words to form a sentence.

As she stood, slack-jawed and empty-mouthed, Anonymous got up from his seat, slowly wiping his hands on his apron.

"I'm sorry for what I said about your services yesterday, Corporal. I do really appreciate the help you've given me, and the work you've done."

‘Damn it, you're supposed to be the one apologizing, not him!’

But she was still held mute.

"And I'm sorry for acting without having consulted you in matters of social obligations." He shrugged and shook his head, remorseful. "I'm afraid I just don't have a head for these sorts of things. I hope you can forgive my mistakes."

‘Oh, sweet Celestia, this is all wrong!’

Honour started shaking her head. "No--No, sir, you-..."

‘Take a breath, Honour.’

The words started to come back into her head.

"... You don't have anything to apologize for, sir. I'm sorry; for refusing you service, for insulting you as I did yesterday."

She looked up and met his eyes, confidence returning. "You didn't deserve what I said to you. Having some movers in without your escort won't set any tongues wagging. I overreacted, and it was very unprofessional of me. For that, and for more, I apologize, sir."

Rubbing his hands together, he spread them open in front of him. "But I did blunder, Corporal. I didn't consider the situation I'm in."

‘This damned, humble gentlecolt!’

"Sir, seeing you safely through Equestrian society is my responsibility, and it's my fault for not being proactive."

"Come now, Corporal, you can't anticipate everything I might do. Surely, I'm at fault for not asking before acting."

‘Guh!’ Was he seriously arguing with her while she was trying to claim responsibility?!

She tried to project the calm confidence of a veteran. "No, sir, I'm at fault for not asking before leaving. I may not be able to anticipate everything you might do, but you certainly can't anticipate what might be socially unacceptable according to the rules of noble society."

Sitting down, she clasped her forehooves together, pleading.

"... Please, sir. I'm the guardspony in charge of your VIP quaternion, and this is my cart to pull. I erred in leaving you alone without guidance and without asking you your plans. I erred in scolding you for what was my own mistake. I erred in refusing you service..."

Her face brightened as she thought of a good way to wrap up.

"... In fact, sir, the only mistake you made was in sending me flowers and an apology card when you hadn't actually done anything wrong."

A wry, uncomfortable smile appeared on his face, and he shrugged awkwardly. "I, uh -- I just thought it was the right thing to do, that's all..."

He spread his hands and then clasped them together again.

"... I hope they brightened things up, at least."

"They did, sir..."

As Honour lowered her hooves, her mind drifted back to the memory of when Glamerspear had unwrapped that sweet-smelling colourful bouquet in front of her.

"... It, uh, was actually a really sweet gesture."

‘Now why in Tartarus did you go and say that out loud?’

‘That was supposed to be internal thoughts only!’

She couldn’t really piece together why her lips decided to utter what her mind was thinking, and she found herself blushing, awkwardly.

"I, uh..." The Royal Engineer, appearing, thankfully, to not have noticed her suddenly-rosy cheeks, fidgeted with his hands some more as he glanced around.

Nodding his head, he shoved his hands into his pockets.

"... Certainly I accept your apologies, Corporal. So, er, where do we go from here?"

‘Oh, thank goodness we’re back to business again.’

The flushed feeling subsided.

"Well, sir, it would be appreciated if you informed me -- or whoever comes on duty -- of your plans for the day."

Anonymous seemed equally pleased to be talking about ordinary matters once more. "Of course, of course..."

With a sigh, he seemed to settle back into his usual posture. "Sergeant Ebonshield mentioned that she would like to go in campaign with Specialist Sparkshower to try to find me some arms with which to conduct training today, provided I wouldn't be having any occasion to call on them. So far, my schedule is free but for one event, and -- correct me if I'm wrong -- I understand that when attending court, only a single guard may attend somepony, even if they have been granted a full quaternion?"

Honour nodded. "For open court, yes, sir, just one of us. May I ask what your interest there is, today?"

He lifted an eyebrow. "Galloway Bitsmount will publicly answer the charges against his mine operations this morning."

Now that was something.

Honour nodded once more. "I understand, sir. Shall I let the sergeant know she's free to head out, then?"

The Royal Engineer gave her a slight bow. "Please do. Court is in an hour, but he's not scheduled to appear until ten o'clock."

"Yes, sir."

Giving a salute, Honour pulled open the door and headed back upstairs.

Finally given a brief moment alone, she collected her thoughts.

That went well. Just, not really any way that she had imagined it would. Anyways, that was enough reflection for now.

It was time to focus on the task at hoof.

She couldn't help but wonder, just what did Ebonshield have in mind for Sparkshower?

Temper Violetta

Suggested background music: John Phillip Sousa - 'Semper Fidelis', performed by "The President's Own" United States Marines Band
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lW4xkMCkXrI

Lieutenant Temper Violetta sipped her morning coffee. It was another glorious Friday in the Royal Guard. A week in the Royal Guard was like a day in Celestia's own presence.

Every meal a feast!

Every paycheck a fortune!

Every formation a parade!

Praise Celestia, she LOVED the Royal Guard!

And what better way to start the day off than with paperwork? The neat stack of sheets in her out-box was, if she allowed herself a small boast, a testament to the organization of the Guard, and a shining example for others to follow.

It was true, the platoons in the VIP Service were larger than usual, owing to the general lack of combat action seen by their members, and this generally resulted in greater amounts of paperwork, but any officer who couldn't handle a few more pencils to push had no part in her Guard -- at least in Violetta’s books.

And they should count themselves lucky to be in the VIP Service, too! With its enlisted ponies having been recruited from among the best soldiers in regular service, heavily vetted, comprehensively instructed, and thoroughly drilled, incidents of misbehavior were rare.

Why, just that morning in the Officers' Mess, a junior lieutenant from an ordinary infantry regiment was bemoaning that it was only Friday, and already this week they had doled out four non-judicial punishments for disorderly conduct, found three of their soldiers tossed in the drunk tank overnight, and had been forced to send out search parties to find two ponies Absent Without Official Leave.

The poor junior officer colt had come from an impoverished noble family, and hadn't been able to afford more than the most basic of infantry platoons for his commission. Violetta almost felt sorry for him, but there was a reason that the purchase of commissions was slowly on its way out, after all. Soon, the Royal Guard's officer corps would be composed entirely of trained professionals like herself. That would be a welcome change, though it would take some time to get there. There were still plenty of high-born ponies in expensive posts who looked down upon any officer who wasn't a gentlepony and hadn't paid their way into the Guard. Nopony would ever question their loyalty to the Crowns, of course, but it wasn't an ideal situation.

That Lieutenant Kilfeather of the First Air Wing, for example, staging a 'Pas de Sabots' -- what a scandal! He wasn't noble-born, but as an officer, he had the rights of a noble when it came to such ancient customs. And now the gentry -- both within the guard and without -- were calling for his head. All while the rest of the guard merely tried to tread a careful line between the old-style feudal system and the new-style meritocracy.

Violetta shook her head as she stared down at the draft report in front of her.

'TO: LCOL BELLE, CHIEF OF STAFF, JUDGE ADVOCATE GENERAL'

'SUBJ: OFFICIAL COMPLAINT REGARDING THE CONDUCT OF LT VALIANT KILFEATHER & 1ST AIR WING'

'RE: VIOLATION OF UNIFORM CODE OF MILITARY JUSTICE, ART. 80, 88, 116, 127, 128, & 133

It'd taken her all week to collect evidence, pore over the UCMJ, and write everything up. Now her official complaint was sitting before her. Having read it and re-read it and re-read it again, all she needed to do now was give it her signature.

Blast it, if he had done anything wrong, this was way beyond her pay grade. But a VIP under the protection of one of her quaternions -- and therefore, under her protection, too -- had legitimate grievances. And if Kilfeather really had moved the Pas de Sabots in violation of official permission, not to mention demanded a hostage as coward's payment, then everything he and his guardsponies subsequently did constituted felonious acts.

As troubled as she was by the notion that an outright criminal could be the wing leader of the premier Air Superiority wing of Equestria, the idea that he might get away with it was even more troubling. Resolving herself to the correct action, she leaned forward and signed the first and last pages, then initial the ten pages in between, and gathered them all up into a manila envelope.

This really was the best she could do; now it was up to the JAG to decide whether or not to prosecute. Either way they decided, unfortunately, was likely to lead to an embarrassment for the Guard. With that dealt with, Violetta hoped it was the last of her troubles for today.

As she picked up her coffee-cup and leaned back in her chair, tired, but satisfied with a morning's proper work, there was a knock at the door.

"Come in!"

The door opened, and the very embodiment of trouble stood, at attention, in the doorway. "Majordomo Lieutenant Violetta, may we have a moment of your time?"

Dressed in her full Night Guard regalia, including that enormous cloak they all seemed to wear, the batpony 'Sergeant' Ebonshield was flanked by Specialist Sparkshower, also fully armored and at attention, though thankfully unarmed.

Violetta didn’t think she could fit that enormous polearm-spear in her office, anyways.

"At ease. What is it, Sergeant?"

Violetta glanced between the two ponies as they relaxed to parade rest -- the one, a loyal servant of the Crowns in her glorious bronze armour and white caparison, the other a complete unknown forced upon her by somepony with an awful lot of clout, dressed in black leathers and fabrics that only seemed to enhance her natural, terrible presence.

Not that she was intimidated, of course. The day a Royal Guard was in any way scared by some misfit pony-of-the-night was a long ways off. But she just knew in her heart she was going to cause trouble.

"Majordomo, in light of the recent incident at the Bridge of New Stirrups, the Great Lord Royal Engineer whom we have the distinguished privilege to guard has requested that we provide him with combat training."

‘What?’

Of all the crazy things she could have trotted in there and said, that was by far the craziest.

"Combat training? Sergeant, he's a bureaucrat, not a soldier."

She obsequiously bowed to her in a display of what was almost certainly false humility. "If it pleases the Majordomo, according to the rules of Equestria, a member of the Privy Council must by definition be invested as a Lord, and therefore may be called upon by the Crowns to serve in times of war."

Violetta shook her head. "Ridiculous! It may be in the books, Sergeant, but nopony is going to treat him as having the obligations of the gentry."

She bowed her head again. "With respect, Majordomo, Lieutenant Kilfeather treated him as exactly such, and it was in response to this incident that the request arose."

Violetta nodded. "I know, Sergeant..."

Tapping on the manila envelope, she leaned forward. "... And I'm about to send off a report that will hopefully see Kilfeather put in his place for that misconduct. I don't expect anypony else will repeat his mistake."

Specialist Sparkshower seemed to brighten up at the thought, and Violetta gave the pegasus a reassuring nod.

Trying to abduct a bright young mare like her for his own nefarious ends! 'Icepone' wasn't just a scoundrel; he was downright cold-blooded.

The batpony kept talking. "That is most gratifying, Majordomo; however, the Great Lord was most insistent. I was unfortunately unable to dissuade him from this course of action."

Violetta sighed and shook her head. Typical VIP behaviour. As soon as they get guards, they need to show how they don't really need them. It was a running private joke amongst the officers of the VIP service the only VIPs who didn't request combat training as a way to 'prove their worth' and one-up their guards were those who had actually served in the military.

She looked up at the batpony. "All right, Sergeant. So he wants combat training; give him some light stuff and leave it at that."

Leaning back, Violetta tilted her chair and shrugged her shoulders. “I can tell you from experience that VIPs tend to get tired of it pretty quickly, anyways. I don't imagine you'll have to indulge him for more than a handful of sessions."

Rather than take the instruction and leave, the batpony stood where she was, bowing again. "Thank you, Majordomo, but it was not to ask permission that we have sought you out this morning. We have rather a more interesting question: The Royal Engineer has also requested that the combat training be conducted in armor, and as he is not a pony, it would seem the normal equipment depot will not be able to provision him."

Hum. That was an interesting problem. Even when VIPs had in the past requested combat training in armor, they had all been ponies. It was a trivial matter to loan, or often, outright sell or gift them with a set of equipment from the Royal Armory. The only other kind of VIPs were visiting dignitaries, and none of them were likely to make the same kind of request. Even worse, Anonymous was a 'human,' according to his dossier, and that wasn't even a known creature in Equestria. He'd have to get the armor custom-made -- also not unusual in and of itself, since many gentleponies liked to get themselves a suit of customized, bespoke armor along with the purchase of a commission in the Guard. But custom-made, custom-fitted armor for an alien that wasn't anything like a pony in shape?

That was a tall order.

He didn't even have hooves!

"Hmm... If you're asking me if I know where he can get custom work done, I'm afraid that I don't."

As Violetta pondered the situation, a candle flickered on in her head. "But I know somewhere you could find somepony who might."

Flopping her chair forward, she grabbed a fresh sheet of paper and a quill and began to write. "Princess Mi Amore Cadenza's Regiment of Auxiliaries. Heard of them?"

She glanced up to find the sergeant shaking her head.

Specialist Sparkshower, however, spoke up. "Ma'am, isn't that the one composed of minotaurs and griffons and such?"

Good head on her shoulders, that one. Hopefully she could keep the Sergeant in check.

"That's right, Specialist. The Princess-Cadenza's will actually take any creature who's willing to swear allegiance to the Crowns. They even take in foreigners, and honorable service bestows citizenship."

Violetta finished scribbling, signed the paper, and rocked a blotter over everything. "If anypony in the Guard is going to know where to get custom armor, it'll be them."

Rolling up the letter, she flicked her desk-lighter on in order to melt wax for the seal. "This is a letter of introduction; they're quartered outside of Canterlot proper, in the fort protecting the satellite village of Newcastle-upon-Mare, to the southeast. Ask for the Officer of the Watch when you get there, and present them with this."

With the letter sealed, Violetta picked it up and held it out towards Specialist Sparkshower, before she suddenly yanked it back.

"...Er, you're not planning on going as well, are you, Sergeant? Could be a bit... awkward."

Mercifully, she shook her head. "No, Majordomo. I do not wish to cause a disturbance. Specialist Sparkshower will go alone. I have another duty to perform for the Great Lord."

The relief was visible on Violetta’s face as she hoofed the scroll over to Sparkshower.

"What's that, then?"

"Majordomo, I must find for the Great Lord a place suitable for the training of combat. I am given to understand from Specialist Sparkshower that the Royal Guard trains exclusively out-of-doors, in designated fields?"

Violetta nodded. "That's right."

The batpony bowed again.

‘Celestia, they really do love bowing, don't they?’

"I hope the Majordomo will understand that to train in such a public, open space seems like a most improper proposal for a Great Lord such as the Royal Engineer. Is there no indoor training facility available whatsoever?"

‘Hmm, a fair point,’ she supposed.

"I understand your objection, Sergeant, but I'm afraid there isn't anything like that suitable for more than just some very basic physical exercises. Nobles who want to learn how to fight before commissioning into the Royal Guard generally rent out or already own a private enclosure, like the quadrangle of a villa."

Ebonshield bowed again, and it was actually starting to get on her nerves a bit. "Thank you, Majordomo. Although I would have preferred to make use of an official Royal Guard facility, I do have another option available that I shall investigate. With the Majordomo's permission, may we retire?"

She nodded, and the pair gave her a salute, which Violetta returned. As they turned to go, she picked up her mug of coffee and took a sip. Something in the back of her head wondered about something the batpony just said, and she called out just as Ebonshield passed the door, having allowed Sparkshower to exit first.

"Oh, just out of curiosity, what's this 'other option' you've got, Sergeant?” Leaning back, she took another sip of her coffee.

The batpony twisted around to face her. "Majordomo, there is a training room under Canterlot mountain, in the Night Guard Rookery."

As she spoke the final words, Violetta started to choke as the lukewarm liquid went down the wrong pipe.

"... It is a most private place, and the Great Lord shall not be disturbed."

Sputtering and retching, she doubled over as the batpony just stood there, clueless. "... Are you all right, Majordomo? Can I render assistance?"

Unwilling to deal with any more of her nonsense, Violetta shook her head and waved her off with one hoof, as she clutched the other in front of her snout. In the time it took her to recover, the batpony saluted, spun around, exited the room, and closed the door.

‘Leading the Royal Engineer into that den of vipers!?’

‘Bloody Tartarus!’

And she had her orders -- she couldn't do a damn thing about it!

Chapter 47

Artemis Sparkshower

It was good to be flying again! Not that Artemis didn’t fly all the time, of course, but this was the first time she’d gone past Canterlot's city walls since...

Well, since Saturday, actually.

And it was only Friday. So, not even a week. But it still felt like a long time!

Sparkshower was a recon pony, after all -- trained to roam far and wide, and see all they can see. Being cooped up just didn’t quite suit her. A lot could change in a week. There were a lot more flowers out now, for one, to say nothing of the leaves sprouting out everywhere. The farmponies that lived in the townships outside of Canterlot were all out too, busy planting their crops -- though they were probably doing that last week as well.

From the looks of things, half the ponies of Newcastle-upon-Mare were out in the fields, working as seasonal farmhooves. Not that the village itself was empty -- there were plenty of ponies out and about on the streets. And there, at one edge of the village, was the Royal Guard bastion; a rectangular, raised plateau with pointed corners for raking cannon-fire, and topped with four long barracks buildings.

Pitching down, Artemis aimed to land at the main gate. There was a nice, big open field in between the buildings, but she couldn’t land there. It was impolite to bypass the front door, for one. Even though it was a Royal Guard facility, and Artemis was a guardspony herself, she was still a visitor. For two, the airspace above the fort proper was restricted, and if she passed over it at low altitude they might send somepony up to intercept.

Hmm...

And the stationed regiment was entirely composed of non-ponies? Who knew what her potential interceptor could be?

As Artemis’ armored hooves touched down, with the gate just ahead of her, she heard a bugle sounding assembly inside. It didn’t sound like it had anything to do with her arrival, though; it was a parade call, not an alarm.

Ahead of her, the iron gate of a stone gatehouse stood open, with a pair of guards flanking it, each of them standing in front of a small guardhouse painted with angled stripes. And, sure enough, neither of them were ponies -- they were both diamond dogs!

Strongly recommended background music: Teri Mason Christian and Nathan Wang - 'Drinking with Boos', from 'Return to Zork' [1993]
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NbFdheCRlks

"Halt and, uh.. indemnify yerself!"

The shorter sentry on the left took a step forward, pointing his truncheon at the pegasus. His companion almost jumped from hearing the command, and had to reach up to lift the brim of his helmet out of the way of his eyes. When he finally laid eyes on Artemis, he started nodding at his guardsmate in support.

"Myeah! Identificate yerself immeda-immun-er, right now, introoda!"

She halted and gave a firm salute. Despite their difficulties in communication, they were still Royal Guards, after all. "Specialist Sparkshower, Equestrian Royal Guard, Canterlot Palace Military Office, Third Company, Second Platoon."

The two diamond dogs exchanged glances like they couldn’t believe what she’d just told them. If they were surprised that a pegasus in bronze Royal Guard heavy armor and wearing a Royal Guard caparison was from the Royal Guard…

Glamerspear would probably have a snide comment to make there right around now.

After having considered each other for a few moments, with a silent exchange of grimaces, shrugs, and various shakes of the head, the shorter one turned to her again, still brandishing his truncheon.

"You... uh... Got any immigration papers, Speciesist Sparkleshow?"

He wasn't going to salute her back? Well that was a bit rude and out of uniform, but oh well. Just as Artemis started to reach her hoof into her saddlebag to go pull out Lieutenant Temper Vi's scroll, the bigger diamond dog cleared his throat.
"Psst! Hey, Snuffy, you gotsa salute!"

'Snuffy' looked over at his companion to find that one already giving her a firm, if somewhat off-angle, salute.

"Oh, right!" Scrambling so hard he almost lept into the air, Snuffy snapped into an equally awkward, though well intentioned salute of his own. The two dogs seemed quite happy to stand at attention, posed like statues, as she dropped her salute and retrieved the lieutenant’s scroll.

"I'm looking for the Officer of the Watch. These are my orders from Lieutenant Violetta, platoon commander."

She held it out, but they were apparently far too busy still standing in salute. Looking back and forth between them, she got the feeling that saluting was the one thing that has been drilled into them.

"... Erm, gentlecolts? My papers?" To gain their attention, Artemis waved the scroll around a bit, and the bigger dog's eyes seemed to go as wide as dinner plates underneath his helmet. Not that she could really see them all that well with how his helmet was once again leaning too far forward, partially obscuring his vision.

Hmm, if the guards there don't have well-fitted armour, that didn’t bode well for finding good equipment for her alien VIP.

The smaller dog, 'Snuffy,' whose helmet seemed to be altogether much more properly fitted, tilted his head down to look at the scroll. Then he snapped his head to his left to look at his larger companion. The large diamond dog was... muttering something under his breath?

Straining her ears, Artemis could just barely make out what he was repeating. "... Lootenant says I mustn't fetch da stick. Lootenant says I mustn't fetch da stick. Lootenant says I mustn't fetch da stick..."

Was he sweating? It wasn’t even very warm out today.

"Hey, Dilly! It's not a stick, okay?"

'Dilly,' the larger diamond dog, lifted his helmet up properly and looked down at the pegasus. He seemed to visibly deflate, relieved that the cylindrical object she was waving around wasn't a stick after all.

Snuffy nodded his head in her direction. "... Fetch it and bring it ova here, why don'tcha?"

That set Dilly off again. "But the Lootenant says I mustn't fetch da stick!!"

Snuffy rolled his eyes. "Dat's not a stick, silly-Dilly! Dat's a scroll! You can fetch dose! Lootenant said it was okay, okay? Just don't go slobberatin' all over dat!"

"Oh boy!" Bounding forward with gleeful enthusiasm and unnerving speed, in one great leap Dilly was standing in front of Artemis, panting amiably and holding out his paws.

She dropped the scroll into his waiting arms, somewhat worried that it may come back to her somewhat worse for wear. Maaaaaybe it would have been better to violate protocol and drop right into the fort's quad, after all.

With another impressively great leap, Dilly was at Snuffy's side and handed the scroll over. As Dilly turned to watch the specialist, now menacingly clutching his nightstick, Snuffy pulled open the scroll sideways and seemed to struggle to figure out which way was up.

"Er..." He looked up at her, waving the paper in the air.

"... Wat's all dis say, den?"

Oh, brother. They didn’t even come this slow back in Berry.

"It's a letter of introduction. I'm to report to the Officer of the Watch."

From the looks on their faces, it was as if she’d just swooped down and started talking Griffonese to them. Which she could do, and it might have had the same effect.

She tried to helpfully lead them on. "... Do you know who the Officer of the Watch is? Could it be 'the Lieutenant'?"

That last word was the magic one, it seemed, and they both exclaimed simultaneously.

"Da Lootenant!"
"Da Lootenant!"

The two diamond dogs faced each other. "She needsta see da Lootenant, Snuffy!"

"I know she needsta see da Lootenant, dat's wat da letter sez, Dilly!"

Snuffy rolled the paper back up and poked Dilly in the chest with one paw. "... So go gives her this back, and takes her to go see da Lootenant!"

Dilly appeared taken aback by that command. "What? Me? You go, Snuffy! I'm on guard dooty! I gotsa guard the gate!"

Angrily waving Artemis’ letter of introduction around in the air, Snuffy retorted. "I can't go, Dilly! I'm on guard dooty too! You go -- dat's an orda, Private!"

Dilly reached up and adjusted his helmet. Artemis caught sight of a very loose chin strap. That was probably the cause for his vision issues. Maybe the armor's not badly made after all -- just badly used.

Meanwhile, the argument continued. "Hey, you can't orda me, just 'cause I'm a Private, Snuffy! Because you'se also a Private, Snuffy!"

"I'm orderin' you, Dilly, because da Lootenant said I'm da senior Private in charge, dat's what he saids. So you go take her to see da Lootenant!"

As the two Privates continued bickering amongst themselves, Artemis stepped forward and cleared her throat.

"Privates, perhaps you could simply point me in the direction of da Loo-- of the Lieutenant? I can make my own way, and you can guard the gate."

Private Snuffy and Private Dilly looked down at her from where they were reared up on their hind legs, grabbing each others' collars and waving paws in each others' faces. There was a long gap where neither of them said anything, but their heads slowly turned to face each other once more.

"Dat's not a bad idea."

"Yeah, dat idea's not bad."

Immediately getting back down, Private Snuffy handed back her scroll of paper, not too much the worse for wear. "Da Lootenant's in building 'C-as-in-Charlie', on da second floor, in da Coynel's Office all day, on account of da meeting he's got with da Coynel. So you can find him dere, wit da Coynel, in da Coynel's Office, on da second floor of 'C-as-in-Charlie' building..."

‘Great!’

"... Needs me to repeat dat?"

‘Absolutely not!’

Artemis took back the scroll and shook her head. "No, I've got it. Thank you, Private Snuffy."

At the sight of her nod, both of them snapped to attention, scrambling like scared kittens. And they remained posed like statues, even as she walked past them. Passing through the gate, Artemis headed inside. She did hear one last remark from the Diamond Dogs outside, though.

"Psst. Hey Dilly, she's gone inside, we don'ts gotsa salute no mores!"

"I said I ain't takin' orders from you, Snuffy! So don't tries ta gives me orders! I'm salutin!"

Artemis just shook her head. She was definitely glad to be inside.

Now, where was building C?

Turning her head and looking about the camp, Artemis’ jaw fell open in amazement. This was incredible! Who knew there were so many non-ponies serving in the Royal Guard? Diamond Dogs, Griffons, Minotaurs...

Even Dragons! Just young ones, barely bigger than ponies, but still! And those were just the species she recognized! There were more that she couldn't even put names to. Like those big, hairy, horned cow-like guards. Or the couple of big cat-people walking around on their hind paws.

There was even a kennel with a pack of Timber Wolves in it! Timber Wolves!

Who in Equestria was comfortable with keeping Timber Wolves as pets? Artemis had no idea.

It was astounding that such a cornucopia of creatures had all assembled together to serve Equestria.

And, actually, a little heartwarming, too.

She felt proud to know that her nation had welcomed them and allowed them to serve the greater good, providing them with a roof over their head, food in their bellies, and meaningful work to do. Although the work could sometimes be a bit dull, she supposed. Not to mention downright dangerous if war actually broke out! Still, though, it must be better than wherever they had come from. Otherwise, why else would they have left?

After gawking her way through the courtyard, Artemis had managed to find building 'C' and stepped inside. Actually, it wasn't fair to say she was the only one doing the gawking. The pegasus in full armor had earned quite a number of stares as well.

They weren't exactly unfriendly, but among other strange glances, the way a cluster of dragons had twisted their long necks around to look in her direction was a bit unsettling. The soldiers there didn't seem to get a lot of pony visitors, she supposed.

Though she had spotted a pegasus officer marshaling a troop of Griffons, so there were clearly some ponies around. Maybe they were just curious about what she was there for. To be perfectly honest, she wasn’t exactly sure what that was.

Talk to the Officer of the Watch, present her papers, ask them where they have the armor made for the soldiers there in the Princess Mi Amore Cadenza's Regiment of Auxiliaries... and then what?

Speaking of the Princess, there was her official portrait hanging on the wall, at the top of the central staircase. It must be pretty recent, because she was depicted wearing the crown of the Crystal Empire.

At the top of the switchback stairs, Artemis was faced with a window in the building's front wall, and the hallway stretched out before her. She glanced side to side. There was nothing interesting to her right, but on the left, two griffons appeared to be standing guard outside a room with double doors. That was probably the Colonel's office.

The specialist headed in that direction. As she approached, an older-looking Griffon wearing a polished iron breastplate, a blue beret, and a richly-decorated red vest, looked in her direction and held up a taloned hand.

"Halt, soldier Pegasus! Vat is your bizness hyere?"

Stopping, she held out Lieutenant Violetta's letter with one hoof and stood at attention. "Specialist Sparkshower, Canterlot Palace Military Office. I'm looking for the Officer of the Watch."

The older Griffon narrowed his eyes, but stepped forward and snatched up the scroll, giving it a quick glance. Unlike with the Diamond Dogs at the front gate, there was no doubt that he was able to read it.

"The Ofitser of the Vatch? This iz not the offiz of the Offitser of the Vatch. This iz the offis of Leytnant-Colonel Percheron, komandir of the 1st Batalon."

His Griffonese accent was thick, but perfectly comprehensible.

Artemis remained at attention. "I was told at the gate that the Officer of the Watch, a certain Lieutenant, could be found here."

The Griffon's eyes narrowed further, and she could hear him snuff through the fixed nostril-holes in his beak. "Vait here."

Keeping her scroll, he turned around and knocked on the door, and Artemis relaxed. From inside, she could hear a female voice speak in a haughty Equestrian accent.

"Enter!"

The Griffon looked at his partner and nodded in Artemis’ direction, then pushed open the door and entered, closing it behind him.

‘Geez, this is a lot of trouble just to find out where armor gets made.’

That armor on the first Griffon, who was now inside the Lieutenant Colonel’s office, definitely wasn't Equestrian standard issue. With what looked like gold filigree, Artemis guessed it was probably something he brought with him when he came to Equestria.

The other Griffon looked Artemis up and down, then raised a clawed hand up, as if imploring her to wait. He was a lot younger than the other soldier, and his armor was made up of bronze segments, exactly like the standard Guard outfit. She had half a mind to just ask him where he got it, rather than continue to disturb the battalion commander about this business.

Obviously, the Diamond Dogs at the gate had been mistaken about where she should go. And now she was interrupting the Lieutenant-Colonel's important meeting!

But there was really not much else to do except soldier on. Not unless she felt like branching out of Armored Recon and into actual espionage, doing some Pony Intelligence (PONINT) work to figure out the supply situation around there. With the prevalence of non-ponies, this was probably one of the few places in Equestria where she would have trouble covertly blending in.

As Artemis pondered just what the next step was going to be, the door opened. The older Griffon peeked around the corner, and pointed into the room.

"Inside, pliz."

Somewhat nervous at the prospect of having to deal directly with such a senior officer, Artemis stepped inside.

The Battalion Commander's office was a large, elegantly furnished room, standing out distinctly from the fairly modest hallways of Fort Newcastle-upon-Mare's 'Building C.' There was a huge red carpet covering almost the entirety of the hardwood floor, and a set of large leather club chairs in the center of the room. To the left, an elegant gilt fireplace screen in the shape of a peacock's feathers caught her eyes, standing in front of a roaring fire. On the right, a marble-topped buffet server bore a number of exotically-shaped decanters and bottles of what was surely alcohol. In one of the club chairs sat a young, thin Earth Pony colt, clutching a tumbler of brown liquid in his left hoof and an unlit cigarette in the other, with one eyebrow cocked in Artemis’ direction.

And just a little beyond him, the Lieutenant-Colonel herself, another Earth Pony, was reclining in a high-back chair, a burning cigarette in a holder in her mouth.

"Spetsialist Sparkshower, Colonel."

With that introduction from the Griffon, Artemis saluted the officers in the room. The Lieutenant-Colonel pulled the holder out of her mouth, then nodded at the pony in the club chair, a wry smile on her face.

"Well, Lieutenant, I think you owe Specialist Sparkshower here an explanation."

That immediately set the young colt off, and he opened his big eyes wide. "Owe her an explanation? Colonel, this is exactly what I've been trying to tell you! Training these creatures... these dogs, it's just impossible!"

The Lieutenant got to his hind hooves, waving around his cigarette and drink, his eyes almost bulging out of his head. "They can't understand the simplest of directions!"

Taking a swig, he put down his drink, placed the cigarette in his mouth, and crossed the room to stand in front of the fireplace, leaning on the mantle. With an exasperated snort, he leaned over and used a table lighter to start his cigarette. He took a moment to compose himself, brushing his mane down with one hoof.

Finally, he let out an awkward laugh. "Huh-huh! I tell them that Lieutenant Cheesewright is the Officer of the Watch for today, and that I'm not to be disturbed as I'll be in conference with Lady Percheron all day, and what do they do?"

He flung one forehoof in the direction of the door, where the griffon guard and pegasus specialist still stood.

"... Those bumbling buffoons send someone looking for the Officer of the Watch right here!"

From behind the desk, the colonel tapped the ash off of her cigarette in a glass tray. "Bertie, you're becoming hysterical. Sit down and finish your drink."

Lieutenant 'Bertie' puffed his cheeks out and exhaled sharply, then crossed back to his seat at a trot, plopping himself down in the plush chair with an inelegant grace. After a moment, he looked up at the Colonel, who gave him a telling look. With another sigh, he picked up his drink and took another sip.

That seemed to calm him down, and the Colonel leaned forward in her chair, placing her forehooves on the desk. "It's as I've been trying to tell you, Bertie. You've simply got to find yourself a good leader among your company. Promote the cleverest one to Sergeant, make them your right-hoof colt, and they'll keep the rest of them in line."

Lieutenant 'Bertie' rolled his big eyes around and replied almost under his breath. "The cleverest Diamond Dog? Might as well try to find the cleverest turnip."

That earned him a scowl from the Colonel, and she loudly tapped her hoof on her desk. "Now that's enough, Bertie. You're an officer of the Royal Guard; you need to put on a good example for the soldiers under your command."

As he started to shrink into his seat, she continued to lay into him like a mother admonishing a child. "... You've got a whole company of Diamond Dogs that you've left leaderless; no wonder they're galloping around like a bunch of confused puppies!"

The Lieutenant sheepishly took another sip of his drink, and the Colonel continued. "... I know you didn't choose to serve here, but you earned it when you made yourself unwanted in your last regiment. Be thankful the circumstances were ambiguous enough that the Board didn't cashier you out."

Lieutenant-Colonel Percheron took a deep breath, then picked up her cigarette and took a long draw of it. Once she'd composed herself, she gave one final rebuke to the Lieutenant. "... If you want a chance at a fashionable Manehattan posting again, you're going to have to work for it -- so you'd better shape up, or else you'll never ship out of here with your gentlecolt's pride intact."

Having completed her tongue-lashing of the impertinent Lieutenant, the Lieutenant-Colonel turned to Artemis, returning her salute. That was her cue to finally lower her own hoof.

"... Now, Specialist, I believe we've delayed your mission for long enough. You may have wanted the Officer of the Watch and wound up in the battalion commander's office, but you're already here, so we might as well address your inquiry from..."

She picked up her letter and a pair of reading glasses on her desk, holding them in front of her snout as she looked it over. "... Lieutenant Violetta. Something to do with our procurement procedures here in Princess-Cadenza's? And step forward, please."

Artemis nodded and walked past the Griffon soldier, standing in front of the Colonel's desk, with the Lieutenant just beside her. "Yes, ma'am. I'm looking for information about where your Regiment sources its arms and armor."

Lieutenant 'Bertie' sat upright in his chair and interjected. "Why? Are we being audited??"

Replacing her glasses on the table, the Colonel looked annoyed at his interruption. "Lieutenant, I am speaking with the specialist."

With a sheepish look on his face, the Lieutenant sank back into his chair. "Sorry, Auntie."

From behind the large desk, Artemis saw a look of frustration in the older mare's eyes, and her lip curled up imperceptibly. "Lieutenant Woodhouse, I am not your Auntie Percheron when we are in the presence of other soldiers. I am Lieutenant-Colonel Countess Bashara Percheron. Is that understood?"

Lieutenant Woodhouse nodded and, duly chastised, retreated deeper into the plush brown leather. "Yes, Colonel. My apologies."

Lieutenant-Colonel Percheron paused to let the lesson sink in, then turned back to Artemis with a friendly smile on her face. "Do go on, Specialist. What do you want to know?"

"Colonel, I'm currently serving in the Very Important Pony section, and Lieutenant Violetta has sent me to inquire about an armorer comfortable working with non-pony physiology. We have an alien VIP under our protection looking to commission some work."

After listening attentively, the colonel took a draw on her cigarette, blowing the smoke out of her nostrils, her ears flicking momentarily.

"I see. Out of pure idle curiosity, Specialist, what manner of creature are you protecting, exactly?"

"A 'human,' ma'am. Sort of a bipedal, hairless monkey, just under six hooves tall."

Once again, Lieutenant Woodhouse couldn’t resist opening his muzzle. "Guh! I shouldn't like to meet that creature down a dark alley."

But his aunt paid him no attention, probably fed up with having to put him in his place so many times already. "Interesting. Pardon my curiosity, Specialist Sparkshower; we don't get a lot of pony visitors here in Fort Newcastle-upon-Mare. Certainly not pegasi trotting about in heavy armor."

With a smile on her face, she glanced out the large window behind her. "... We're taking the Peregrines -- that's the nickname of the First Battalion, my Battalion, on account of the high number of Griffons posted here -- out on combat exercises with an ordinary regiment this weekend, and I daresay the sight of you prancing over here in your full regalia must have made some of the soldiers think we'd be up against the Valkyries."

The Valkyries were one of the most prestigious groups in the Royal Guard -- an entire armored airborne battalion composed entirely of pegasus mares. It was a bit flattering to have anyone presume that she must have come from that elite group.

Lieutenant-Colonel Percheron looked over Artemis’ shoulder at the older Griffon, still standing just inside the doors. "First Sergeant, would you summon up one of your soldiers to escort the Specialist here to our armaments supplier in the village?"

With a nod and a salute, the Griffon turned and sauntered back out the door, and Artemis could hear him bark out orders in Griffonese, commanding the other guard to go fetch someone. She couldn’t quite make out the name, however.

Lieutenant Woodhouse eyed her warily, and cleared his throat. "I say, Specialist -- and if you're done with your questions, Ma'am...?"

He received a nod from the Colonel, and continued. "What does your alien VIP want with armaments?"

"He's looking to receive some combat training from his escort, Sir."

The Lieutenant's eyes went wide, and he scrunched up his muzzle, his ears perking up. "Combat training? What does your VIP do, then? Is he some sort of mercenary?"

Artemis shook her head. "No, Sir. He's the Royal Engineer of Equestria."

Lieutenant Woodhouse chortled. "I should think that rather begs the question, Specialist. What could the Royal Engineer of Equestria possibly need with combat training?"

"Sir, he's been challenged once before. His quaternion, myself included, defended his person and his honor, but he expressed an interest in being able to defend himself as well."

Woodhouse jutted his head forward on his neck and flattened his ears, scarcely able to believe what she was saying. "Someone challenged the Royal Engineer?! Absurd! Next, you're going to tell me he was accosted by that lowborn Lieutenant Whatshisname during that 'Pas de Sabots' of his at that bridge this week."

Artemis cleared her throat awkwardly. "I'm afraid that's exactly it, sir. Lieutenant Kilfeather challenged him at Newstirrup Bridge."

The Lieutenant gawked, mouth agape, at that apparently shocking revelation. Long before he could recover, the Colonel spoke up.

"I thought the 'Pas De Sabots' was at Oldstirrup Bridge."

Oops. She’d forgotten that Kilfeather relocated after they defeated him. And the matter of his 'Pas de Sabots' was still delicate; Lieutenant Violetta was only just now filing papers to the Judge-Advocate-General about it! Kilfeather's actions directly pitted the nobility against the Royal Guard. And there she was, in the presence of noble officers of the Royal Guard!

Which side were they on?

What should she say?

The Lieutenant-Colonel Countess was waiting for Artemis’ answer.

"Er..."

She couldn’t lie to an officer, especially not a Colonel. She’d just have to tell her the truth.

"... Yes, ma'am, but he was originally at the Newstirrup Bridge."

The Colonel took a pull on her cigarette, blowing the smoke out of her nostrils. "A 'Pas de Sabots' is not ambulatory, Specialist. It is properly held in one place and in one place only..."

She plucked the spent roll out of its holder, and stubbed it out in the ashtray. "... But I can see the question has made you uncomfortable. I take it this is still a rather sensitive matter?"

"Yes, ma'am."

She gave Artemis a reassuring nod. "Then I shan't inquire further."

Pulling a fresh cigarette out of a box on her desk, she affixed it to her holder, then lit it using a packet of matches on her desk. After taking in another draw, she leaned reflectively back in her chair.

"Lieutenant Kilfeather is, of course, not of noble blood, however. As an officer, he is considered a gentlecolt, and therefore entitled to make use of such ancient traditions. And in the course of his 'Pas de Sabots,' he has embarrassed a great number of noble ponies who have declined to serve Equestria in the manner demanded by their high birth."

Woodhouse piped up with a grin on his face. "I'll say! The Bees' Club has been positively a-buzz with ponies deriding the nerve of that colt."

The Colonel licked her lips and pulled the cigarette holder out of her mouth. "Nerve's an admirable characteristic in an officer, Bertie. You should remember that."

Another haughty chuckle erupted out of the Lieutenant. "Huhuhu! Come now, Auntie, surely you aren't suggesting that--"

Before the Colonel could admonish him once again for the informal term of address, there was a knock at the door. This time, the Griffon Sergeant entered without being bidden, and trailing behind him was another Griffon, a young hen, dressed in standard Royal Guard banded bronze armor, with a short red cape hanging on her shoulders. Artemis stepped aside, and at a wave from the Colonel, the two of them approached her desk and stopped to salute.

The First Sergeant nodded and indicated the newcomer. "Prive-yate Fyirst Clyass Featherhooves, Colonel."

Colonel Percheron looked the Private in the eyes and nodded in Artemis’ direction. "Private Featherhooves, meet Specialist Sparkshower. You're going to show her to our blacksmith in town."

The young Griffon turned to her and nodded, and Artemis returned the gesture.

‘Time to impress!’

"Zdravstvuyte, Yefréytor Featherhooves!"

Lieutenant Woodhouse's jaw dropped open, the Colonel arched an eye in surprise. Even the sergeant blinked and swiveled his head ever so slowly in Artemis’ direction, his piercing eyes seeming to regard her in an entirely new light.

But the young Private just smiled. "You speak Griffonese very well, Specialist Sparkshower. But I was actually born here in Equestria."

‘Darn it!’ She wasted the moment in showing off her Griffonese; the griffon hen spoke Equestrian with no accent whatsoever.

Private First Class Featherhooves turned to address the colonel. "... With your permission, Colonel?"

Percheron nodded, and the two griffons led Artemis back towards the door. Just as the sergeant opened it, the colonel called out to her from the far side of the room.

"Oh, and Specialist?"

Artemis turned to face her, standing at attention.

The Colonel was still sitting in her chair, holding her cigarette with a sly look on her face. "... If you ever get tired of the VIP service, please get in touch with me, would you? We could use someone with linguistic talents and an eye for detail around here. I promise I can make it worth your while."

Well, that was interesting.

Artemis didn’t really know how to answer that, so she stuck to the basics. "Yes, ma'am."

She nodded amiably. "That'll be all, Specialist."

Artemis exited the colonel's quarters, getting a strange look from the Sergeant as she followed Private First Class Featherhooves downstairs.

Featherhooves…

What a strange name for a griffon! They don't have any hooves, after all.

Artemis would like to ask her about it, but griffons were also notoriously reserved with outsiders. Maybe she would get the opportunity to ask on the way to this blacksmith of theirs, but first she’d better do a better job of introductions...

Chapter 48

Honour Bound

It had been an awkward walk for Corporal Bound. Anonymous, walking in step beside her, hadn't breathed a word since they’d left the Grand Reception Hall, where Celestia held morning court. And yet, there was something important to talk about. Still, she followed her VIP's lead and refrained from initiating any conversation herself; maybe he had a reason to keep his thoughts to himself right now.

The Royal Engineer's chamber doors were straight ahead, and Honour scurried in front of him to open the doors, saluting as he walked past her. As he hung up his jacket, she pushed the doors shut behind him.

The moment the latches clicked together, she heard his voice behind her. "Well, Corporal, what do you make of all that?"

So, he was just waiting for privacy?

More than reasonable, given the circumstances.

Collecting herself, Honour turned around. Anonymous was standing with one hand in front of his mouth, and the other holding his elbow.

The corporal shook her head. "I don't know, sir. It didn't feel right."

He nodded. "Yes, I was certain that it must have been Bitsmount who was responsible for the poor state of safety at the mine, not his teamster Songwell. And their story was certainly dramatic, almost theatrical."

Frowning at the floor, he lowered his hands. "But I suppose stories sometimes are, here in Equestria. And the Princesses believed it, even after going away to consult in private."

The frown turned from concern into confusion, and he looked up at Honour. "Nobody would lie to the Princesses, would they? From what I've seen, Equestrian ponies almost worship the very ground that the Royal sisters walk on."

Before she could answer him, he lifted his eyebrows and carried on. "And even if someone would lie to the Princesses, could they possibly get away with it? I've only known Their Majesties for a short time, but I can't imagine that sorcerers who've lived for over a thousand years are easy to fool, unless the liar is exceptionally talented. And surely the Princesses must be able to use their magic to suss out truths."

That brought up an important question she’d been meaning to ask, actually.

But first, she should answer Anonymous' questions. "Bitsmount sure looked guilty when you served him with the warrant last week, sir."

Anonymous' expression softened. "Gauging someone's reaction is a black art, Corporal, especially in intimidating circumstances. We had him surrounded by three armed ponies; a tall alien, too. Even an innocent pony might have felt guilty in that scenario."

"If he wasn't guilty, then why did he send J.P. Mustang to try to talk you out of the prosecution?"

The Royal Engineer shrugged. "Because he knows J.P., and because J.P. knows me? It wasn't a very ethical act, but he was entitled to make use of the resources at his disposal."

"Well, what about the delay? You served him with papers on Saturday, and we know he arrived in Canterlot on Sunday. Why wait five days to present himself at court?"

Turning around, he waved dismissively and went to put on his work-apron. "The writ gave him two weeks to sort out his affairs and show up, and he only took one. I'm sorry, Corporal, but while these actions of his certainly are suspicious, they don't prove that he was the mastermind behind the unsafe working conditions. Ponies at the mine did admit to us that orders for the wider timber spacing had come down 'from above,' but the story that Bitsmount was simply a hard master who wasn't paying attention to details, while Songwell was the one who made the actual decision, does fit the facts at our disposal."

As he tied the apron behind him, he faced Honour, looking a little disappointed. "At least we brought the violations to light. Nobody ever actually got hurt, so I wasn't expecting a harsh sentence even if he had admitted to it. I was only interested in making sure this didn't happen again."

She nodded. "I'm sure it'll make the national papers tomorrow, sir. By next week, half the ponies in Equestria will consider themselves experts on mine support placement."

That got a laugh out of her VIP. "Yes, it does always seem to go that way, doesn't it?"

Shrugging, he sat back down on his stool. “I suppose I'll have to push for the creation of appropriate ministries to establish and enforce safety standards sooner rather than later, but this scandal should induce business owners like Bitsmount to keep things on the level for now."

Turning away from the corporal, he gathered up some of the bits and pieces on his workbench and started to tinker with them.

Honour realized she’d better ask her question now, before he got too deep into it.

She cleared her throat. "Sir, if you have another moment, I had a question about Princess Luna."

He didn’t look up from the table.

"Go ahead, Corporal. I'm listening."

This was a sensitive topic, and she was a bit hesitant to proceed.

She licked her lips.

"I was wondering -- on Wednesday, when Her Majesty came to visit, did you..."

Before she could find the right word to use, there was a knock at the door behind her. Anonymous looked over his shoulder, with one eyebrow cocked, to check if it was Honour who had banged on the door to make a point. Seeing that she hadn't, he lowered his hands and waited.

Somewhat surprised by the interruption, a frowning Honour pulled open one of the doors a few inches. There was a Royal Guardspony, a young pegasus colt in a private's uniform, standing just on the other side, standing at attention, and holding out a calling card.

"I'm to wait for a reply, Corporal."

Taking the card, and eyeing the colt warily, she nodded and shut the door again. After stepping into the room, Honour glanced down at the paper. The upper-right and bottom-left corners bore simple geometric designs, but when she read the text that they framed, she couldn’t resist blurting out loud.

"Oh, you have got to be kidding me."

Anonymous turned fully around in his chair. "What is it, Corporal?"

She could barely hold back a disgusted sneer. "Sir, Lieutenant Kilfeather is requesting 'the privilege of an audience.'"

The Royal Engineer lifted his eyebrows as far up as they could go, and his mouth sagged open. "You're joking."

Stepping forward, she gave him the card. "I wish I was."

Her VIP quickly read the text on the card, flipping it over to check the back as well.

Then he looked up at her, waving the card beside his head. "Corporal, is there anything in the Equestrian social rules about 'follow-up' visits after a 'Pas de Sabots'?"

She shook her head. "No, sir. I've no explanation for this."

The Royal Engineer licked his lips and looked the card over again. "Who delivered this? One of the palace messengers?"

"No, sir. It's a Royal Guardspony, a private. He might even be one of Kilfeather's, though I don't recognize him from the battle. Perhaps he's borrowed from another platoon."

Anonymous narrowed his eyes. "Get him in here, I want to speak to him -- that's allowed, right?"

Honour was a little bit taken aback. The Royal Engineer wanted to interrogate this messenger?

"It's a little unusual, sir, but I don't think it's forbidden."

"Good. Let's talk to him."

Standing where she was, she frowned at him, a bit confused. "Sir, just so you know -- in Equestria, we don't shoot the messenger."

Her VIP nodded and got to his feet. "I know, Corporal. Don't worry, I'm not about to."

"Alright, sir."

The Royal Engineer pulled off his apron and walked over to grab his coat from the rack as Honour made her way back to the door. Once he was properly dressed again, he gave her a nod, still holding the card.

Honour pulled open the door and waved a hoof at the surprised soldier standing outside. "Come in, Private."

If he didn't know the situation between Kilfeather and Anonymous, the soldier did at least seem to recognize the unusual nature of her request.

"Uhm, Corporal, I'm just supposed to take a reply, I don't-"

She was not in the mood for this nonsense, and she doubted the Royal Engineer was, either, so she jerked her free forehoof behind her.

"Get in here, Private. That's an order."

With a gulp, he stepped forward, and she almost had to herd the colt into the room just so she could close the door behind him. The Royal Engineer stood just in front of the sitting-room area, a stern expression on his face, gently waving the calling card up in the air.

"What's the meaning of this, Private?"

"Uh, sir, it's a calling card from Lieuten--"

Anonymous cut him off. "I know it's a calling card from Lieutenant Kilfeather, Private. I want to know why the lieutenant wishes to meet with me."

The Private glanced in Honour’s direction as if hoping she would help, but all she gave him was a cold scowl. Maybe he didn’t deserve being put on the spot like this, but a little grilling wouldn’t kill him.

The juvenile colt swallowed again.

"Sir, I wasn't told any details of that nature. I'm just here to deliver the card and re--"

Once again, the Royal Engineer walked right over his explanations.

"Private, are you aware of where I last met with Lieutenant Kilfeather?"

"Y-yes, sir. At Newstirrup Bridge."

Aha -- so he did know a few things. Anonymous seized on that fact as well.

"And do you know what happened at Newstirrup Bridge, Private?"

Like an animal that knew it had been caught, the young guardscolt started to give in, his shoulders drooping. "Yes, sir. Lieutenant Kilfeather challenged you to a 'Pas de Sabots.'"

"Yes, he did, Private. He challenged me, seeming to know exactly who I was and the arcane rules about why I was compelled to fight, and he demanded an outrageous coward's price if I refused."

The Royal Engineer stepped forward until he was looming rather menacingly over the young pegasus.

"... And do you know what happened after that, Private?"

"Ah... Y-Your bodyguards won the challenge, sir."

"Indeed, Private. And a condition of that victory was that Lieutenant Kilfeather would pack up and go home. But he didn't go home, did he, Private?"

"N-No, sir, he didn't."

Anonymous bent over forwards, his hands on his hips.

"But he's packed up and home now, is he?"

"Yes, sir."

The Royal Engineer turned around and stepped back over to the sitting-room area.

His expression softened a little, and he looked down at the card. "Private, why should I wish to meet with Lieutenant Kilfeather?"

"I don't know, sir."

Instantly, the commanding voice was back. "That's unacceptable, Private. I want an answer."

With a bit of breathing room around him, the guardspony cast his eyes about, looking for something -- anything -- that could get him out of this pressure chamber.

"He, uh... He said it had to do with the 'Pas de Sabots.' I think he mentioned 'misappropriation'?"

That was a pretty key word. Could Kilfeather want to negotiate with Anonymous, to ensure that charges weren't pressed? Honour would probably say 'no' to that, but the Royal Engineer had greater concerns. He received J.P. Mustang, even though he turned him down. As much as it would disgust her to have to do it, it wouldn't be out of character for Anonymous to hear Kilfeather out before making up his mind.

The Royal Engineer stared at the pegasus Private for a few moments, taking his time to think things over.

"Tell him I will see him, but he must come alone, Private."

"Yes, sir." Immensely relieved to have an answer, the Private took a hesitant step backwards.

But Anonymous strode forward and quickly bent over to get right up in his muzzle.

"I don't care if he needs three nurses to push him in a gurney after what happened to him. You tell the Lieutenant, Private, that if he doesn't come alone, I'm going to have him arrested."

"Yes, sir."

After reflexively snapping his response, the junior soldier once again tried to get away, only to find Anonymous continuing to talk.

"... then, I'll have him shot..."

"Yes, sir."

That was a bit severe, but considering Kilfeather's crimes...

"... out of a cannon..."

"Yes, sir."

‘Wait, what?’

"... into the sun."

"Yes, sir."

‘Okay, he's just messing with the Private at this point.’

The Royal Engineer stood straight up again, and the Private took that as his cue to give a salute, his forehoof trembling, before he scrambled for the door.

Honour didn’t open it for him, and in his haste to leave, he pulled it shut so hard that the door bounced back off its latch. With a scowl, Honour walked over and pushed it shut again.

Anonymous was adjusting his shirt-cuffs. "You'd better go get Specialist Glamerspear, Corporal."

"She's still wearing the cone, sir. I don't think she'll be able to do much if Kilfeather does try to cause trouble."

The corner of Anonymous' lip turned up into a smirk. "She can still wear sabots and kick, can't she?"

‘True.’

She nodded her head, and he sighed. "And anyways, she knows him better than anyone else, so we might as well have her here."

That was reasonable.

"Yes, sir."

Giving her VIP a salute, Honour opened the door and headed upstairs. Well, when she showed up in Anonymous' chambers, she’d wanted to put yesterday behind her and focus on work.

Fate was certainly delivering on that request.

Artemis Sparkshower

‘Hey, what the heck!’

Outside of the Lieutenant-Colonel's office and around the corner from that ornery older Griffon Sergeant with the fancy armor, Artemis Sparkshower’s new escort had leaped away from her, bounding down to the mid-floor landing in a single jump.

Before she could even take to the air herself, the hen turned around and launched herself down the rest of the stairs to the front hall.

That's not fair-weather! Some ponies in this fireteam are in heavy armor and need a little more time to hustle!

Or at least some advance notice!

Despite her internal complaints, Artemis followed her lead and took to the air as well, floating downstairs as gracefully as she could manage in the cramped indoor environment.

Was she offended by her attempt to speak Griffonese?

Was this a prank to put her in her place?

She was just trying to be polite!

Well, that and maybe show off a bit, sure. Since she’d shown off once already, maybe Featherhooves was teasing her into showing off some more? Trying to see how nimble the pegasus really was under all that bronze?

As Artemis came down towards the staircase-landing, she noticed that the wall was clear, and made of bare, unfaced brick. That meant nopony would notice a few hoof-prints on the side...

Summoning up all the maneuverability she had, Artemis banked over and kicked out at the wall, using it to do a 180-degree wingover without even touching the ground.

Yeah! She’d show that griffon that Armored Division pegasi still knew how to fly!

At the bottom of the stairs, just outside the building, Private First Class Featherhooves was waiting for her, holding the door open. With a smirk, she let go and trotted off.

The door started to slowly close before her, and it wasn't that wide of a doorway to begin with.

‘Hurricanes!’

Artemis pumped her wings and prepared to bank again.

"Gangway!"

The badly-lubricated hinges of the reinforced wooden door into Building C creaked and groaned as it slowly fell shut. Instantly recalculating her route, she yawed right and rolled over left to approach from the hinge side to slip diagonally through the biggest gap.

She ducked her head in and collapsed her wings.

In a split second, Artemis was through the door, and she pumped her primaries back open again, inches away from crashing to the ground.

"Hooah!"

Gosh, she hadn’t done anything that kinetic since the Changeling Invasion -- or maybe 'shoe camp! Her exhilaration was cut short when she realized that what looked like two full companies were at parade rest in the quad just in front of building C.

Three hundred Diamond Dogs, Dragons, Griffons, Minotaurs, and more all found themselves looking up at a heavily-armored Pegasus who’d just enthusiastically shot out of their Officers' Barracks with a war-cheer. Some of them were even laughing and pointing back at the door.

As Artemis flew across the field, she turned her head around, and her shortcut exhilaration suddenly turned into an uncomfortable lump in her throat. The officer in charge of the whole formation, a teal Earth Pony major, was standing beside the doors she just blew through, with his mane a blustery mess, and his feathered beret now lying before him in the mud!

‘Oh, thundershowers!!’

"Davay, olovyanny soldat!" Hovering far above the field, Artemis saw Private First Class Featherhooves wave as she called out to the pegasus. It was clear she knew what she was doing.

And now the major was pointing in her direction, shouting something about 'wanting plots' to his staff sergeant.

Artemis was reluctant to link up with somepony who'd just played a prank on her, but anything was better than staying down low and in range of a senior pony officer upset with having his muster disturbed. She frantically pumped her wings to get as high up as possible.

... Wait, did she just call her a 'tin soldier'?

As Artemis linked up with her escort high above Fort Newcastle-Upon-Mare, Private First Class Featherhooves was grinning at her. "Nice job, Specialist! When First Sergeant Gercog pulled me out of the formation down there, I bet my platoon twenty bits that I could get our visiting Valkyrie to screw with Major Bloodnok before the exercise."

Now that she was up in the sky, Artemis got the full measure of her prankster Griffon escort.

Private First Class Featherhooves, still laughing at the cleverness of her own gag, was a young Griffon hen with a creamy white breast and head, accented with two large bands of black eyeshadow-feathers that formed a face mask that wrapped all the way around behind her head into a narrow band at the back of her neck. Her beak was black with a bit of yellow at the base, while her torso and the coverts of her wings were Rufous-brown.

Her primary feathers, however, were white-and-black in bars perpendicular to the shafts. And she was wearing a version of the standard Royal Guard armor, modified to fit her shape, with the helmet detached from the main torso armor so as to allow her to turn her head all the way around, as only Griffons could.

Alright, now that Artemis had a good picture of her, the question was: how to reintroduce herself? At first she thought she’d have to apologize for speaking Griffonese, but it seemed like that was out of the equation. And the Lieutenant-Colonel was right -- they did mistake her for a Valkyrie!

Down below, the major was still gesturing angrily up at the two of them, shouting about plots, and the staff sergeant looked like he was trying to muster up some of the flyers.

"Uh, actually, Private Featherhooves, I'm not a Valkyrie... So maybe we'd better move it."

The Griffon's eyes went enormously wide, her irises shrinking to little more than tiny dots. It was a little unsettling how Griffon eyes could do that. A second later, they popped back to regular size.

"Cyka blyat! Come on, let's get out of here!"

She turned in the air, heading towards the village, and Artemis followed right along, flying echelon right.

Huh. She spoke Equestrian perfectly, but still mixed in Griffonese swear words. Maybe it was from being around so many other Griffons in the Princess-Cadenza's Regiment, some of whom prefered their native tongue?

Once they were out of sight of the fort, both of them turned and looked back.

No pursuers.

‘Whew.’

Featherhooves turned to Artemis. "Sorry about that, Specialist. I thought being a Valkyrie would make you immune to any kind of petty 'Ninja-Punch' that the major could dole out.

She smirked as she used the slang term for a non-judicial punishment. "Hopefully the lieutenant-colonel shuts him down if he tries to find out who you were. You saw how she dug in her hooves as soon as you showed you could speak a little Griffonese? Percheron will have your back, all right."

Artemis shook her head. "You mean that strange offer? I don't understand; what did she mean?"

The Griffon looked surprised. "Oh, you don't know? I thought everypony knew about the situation in the Princess-Cadenza's."

Featherhooves jerked her head back towards the fort. "We're short on officers. Percheron doesn't have enough majors for all the captains she's got, and she doesn't have enough captains for all the lieutenants, and she doesn't have enough lieutenants for the lieutenants junior grade, and she doesn't have enough of those for all the troops under her command."

The pegasus frowned. "Why? What's wrong with the Princess Mi Amore Cadenza's Regiment of Auxiliaries? Things looked alright to me..."

Rolling her head a bit, she remembered her experience at the gate. "...Although the guards at the front door might have been a few horseshoes short of a full set."

Featherhooves chuckled. "Yeah, it's always fun times when the 'dogs are out of the pound. But as for the regiment..."

She shrugged, a wistful look on her face.

"It's not a fashionable place to serve. We're a bunch of non-ponies in a podunk village just a little too far from Canterlot, or anywhere else, to be important or stylish. The Royal Guard has a shortage of qualified officers across the board from what I've heard, and no noblepony wants to commission into something like the Princess-Cadenza's. Even ponies graduating from the academy put as us their last choice."

She clacked her beak noisily. "And since non-ponies can't be commissioned as officers, well, we mostly get the Royal Guard's dregs. Like Lieutenant Woodhouse, who I hear only saved himself from being cashiered out by agreeing to be transferred here, or that incontinent blowhard Major Bloodnok."

Licking her beak-lips, she nodded her head apologetically. "Sorry. I don't mean to vent at you, Valkyrie or not. But Colonel Percheron is a good commander, and even though she's got to take care of the officers she's got, she's always trying to find ways to sweeten the deal for new prospects. Like you, for example."

Artemis perked her ears up and frowned. "But I'm not an officer!"

Featherhooves laughed. "She'll make you one! You must have impressed her beyond just being able to speak Griffonese; I guess I wasn't there for that. If you come back and tell her you're bored with your current posting, whatever it is, then she'll pull strings to make you a mustang officer under her command as fast as she can. Heck, if your record is good enough, she might even be able get you in as something more than a butter-bar lieutenant junior grade."

‘A field promotion to officer?!’

Artemis had earned an early promotion to Specialist, sure, but actually being a leader of ponies? Well, of Griffons, Diamond Dogs, Dragons, Minotaurs, and more, in this case...

The Lieutenant-Colonel's offer had felt strange enough when she’d made it, but now it was downright stunning. Artemis was having a good time in the VIP service, but it was definitely something to keep in mind. Or at least, in her saddlebags.

"Wow..." She trailed off, unable to find any other words to describe the situation.

Featherhooves seemed to have run out of things to say, too.

As they passed over Newcastle-Upon-Mare, Artemis remembered the question she’d wanted to ask when the colonel dismissed her.

"By the way, Private, I was wondering about your--"

She cut the pegasus off with a smirk on her face. "About my last name, right? I figured; it's not exactly a typical Griffon name, right?"

Artemis nodded, and she continued. "My grandparents came to Equestria to serve as auxiliaries in the Royal Guard. There were a lot of troubles in Griffonstone back then, so there was a lot of emigration, but signing up to fight for ponies was a step further than just leaving, and earned them a pretty black mark back home. Other Griffons would call them 'Feather-hooves' as an insult, as if to declare they were no longer recognized as Griffons, but Pegasi."

She grinned. "Well, my 'dedushka' took it in stride and, since they didn't have a last name -- they weren't common among Griffons back then, you were just 'Greta the Goldsmith from Grozny', or whatever -- he decided to make it the family name."

Private Featherhooves puffed out her creamy-white chest. "I'm the third generation Featherhoof to serve in the Royal Guard, and I'm proud of it."

Artemis smiled. "So your grandpa turned an insult into a badge of honour? Talk about a thermal updraft, wow!"

"Yeah... So, where'd you learn to speak Griffonese, then? You sure talk Equestrian like every AWACS Pegasus I've ever met."

Well, of course she did! It was every Pegasus' duty to serve in the Airborne Weather And Climate Service. To say nothing of the Royal Guard!

Anyways, back to the matter at hoof.

"Oh, my parents were good friends with a Griffon trading family that visited Berry -- my hometown -- during the warm months, caravaning the crops to markets and ports in the fall, and bringing in shipments from the port of Fillydelphia in the spring. In the winter, they migrated south, but they would stay in town for most of the summer, doing smaller deliveries until harvest-time."

Artemis shrugged. "Our house was next to the village inn, so as a filly, with my parents up working the weather, I played with their chicks and learned the language from 'babushka.'"

Featherhooves smiled. "Nice. Reminds me a little bit of a Griffonese folk song about a travelling peddler, you know the one - 'dun dun-dun-dun dun-dun-dun dun-dun-dun dun-dun-dunnnn, dun-dun-dun dun.dun.dun'?"

She hummed the first distinctive bar, and Artemis nodded her head and hummed along with her. "Oh yeah, babushka Tetranov used to sing that one all the time! For some reason I always think about these toy blocks that have the Griffonese alphabet on the side when I hear it."

Featherhooves looked pleased. "If you swing by the 'Peregrines' enlisted mess on any evening where we aren't preparing for a field op, the old-timers will get a real kick out of hearing a Pegasus sing Griffon folk songs -- and a few of them will probably beg Percheron to find some way to persuade you to get commissioned."

Featherhooves threw her head back and laughed. "I bet even grumpy old First Sergeant Gercog would actually crack a smile on that beak of his if you show up and prove to be a competent officer!"

She wiggled her eyebrows at the specialist. "He'd know if you were; he used to be a full Colonel -- a Polkovnik -- before being forced into exile during one of the king's purges."

The mention of exile seemed to dampen her spirits.

"...But that's a story for another time. And anyways, we're here."

Artemis was so unconsciously maintaining formation with Featherhooves as the flight leader that she barely noticed the drop in airspeed and altitude, but they were coming in to land on a road just outside of the village.

In front of the pegasus stood a large stone building, with smoke pouring from several chimneys at the top, and the sound of pounding metal from within. It looked like it was only one storey tall, but that one storey was almost tall enough to fit a second one in there. A large, painted wooden sign hanging from the entrance read:

'BRONZEHORN ARMS AND ARMOUR'

And the sign itself had... bronze horns?

Suggested interlude music: Red Army Choir - 'Korobeiniki'
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=krJR0b1Wgrg

Chapter 49

Artemis Sparkshower

Specialist Artemis Sparkshower had never felt physically intimidated by any creature in her life.

Until now.

Inside the smoky smithy, a towering colossus of a black minotaur bull stood behind a counter that came up to her chin, but seemed to barely reach his waist. And, grim-faced, with his fists on his hips, he was staring down at Private First Class Featherhooves.

"Private, you're out of uniform. Where's your gorget?"

His deep, powerful voice reverberated in the small showroom, rattling the sets of armor sitting on shelves and the dozens of weapons hanging from the walls.

Artemis glanced over at Featherhooves, and there was a look of defiance in the bare-necked Griffon's eyes. "It's too heavy, and it gets too hot."

The minotaur snorted. He leaned over and, with a loud 'whump,' rested one of his slab-like forearms on the counter. From that angle, she could confirm that, yes, his upper arm alone was probably bigger than she was.

Wow.

With his other hand, the shopkeeper pointed an accusing finger at Artemis’ escort.

"You won't be thinking it's too heavy when you wind up taking a spear to your neck."

His voice was so low she almost felt his words vibrating in her bones rather than hearing them in her ears.

But Featherhooves just rolled her eyes. "We're going out on maneuvers, Gunther, not heading into battle."

Gunther stretched out his accusing finger and rather forcibly poked Artemis’ Griffon comrade in her neck. "Train in the armor you fight in."

As Featherhooves pulled away from his prodding, the enormous minotaur withdrew his hand, balled it up into a fist, and rested it, knuckles-down, on the counter alongside his other arm.

With another steamy snort, he loomed over the desk, staring at the griffon. "Dress up properly next time you come here, or I'll see to it you get a proper dressing-down back at the fort."

Private Featherhooves glared right back, and for a few moments, they tried to stare each other down. Eventually, whether because she withered under his gaze, or because she knew he was right, the griffon broke eye contact and looked sheepishly away.

"Sorry, Gunther. I won't leave it off again."

The minotaur didn’t break his gaze. "Next time, you might not be sorry -- you might be dead."

Leaning back, he sighed, and the walls seemed to flex inwards and outwards along with his mighty breath. "...Now, what do you want? I hope you're not here to check up on that rush order -- because as much as I don't appreciate being asked to craft a whole platoon's worth of Diamond Dog armor with only two days' notice, I appreciate it even less having that pencil-neck Lieutenant Woodhouse sending badly dressed privates down here to check up on me."

Featherhooves nodded in Artemis’ direction. "I'm not here about that, Gunther; right now, I'm just an errand-foal, escorting Specialist Sparkshower here, who wanted to know who supplies the Princess-Cadenza's with the 'exotic' armor we use."

Gunther swiveled his meaty neck towards Artemis, and the intimidation factor ramped up again. It wasn’t so much that she was afraid of what he could do to her; when she faced off against Kilfeather's second-in-command, that had been genuine fear. Fear that 'Joker' could -- and actually did -- literally fly circles around her. With this massive minotaur, she didn’t feel like she was in any actual danger. But the way he moved his enormous bulk with a commanding presence was almost hypnotizing. She just knew that if he wanted to, the gargantuan, bipedal cow could snap bones, bend iron bars, crush bronze plate...

It was staggering.

Gunther looked her over with a discerning eye, and his ivory horn caught a glint from the light streaming down into the hazy room through the sunlight in the ceiling.

"That's a solid-looking suit of armor you've got, Specialist. Is it just for show?"

Artemis shook her head. "No, sir. I'm a 19D Armored Scout."

He glanced at her flanks. "I see some scuffs on it. Have you taken it into a fight?"

Her shake turned into a nod. "Yes, sir."

The minotaur narrowed his eyes ever so slightly. "Against?"

She paused, and a quick glance beside her showed that Featherhooves was also listening attentively.

"Changeling advance scouts in the field a year ago, but most recently, I won a duel against a lieutenant of the First Canterlot Air Superiority Wing."

The minotaur didn’t budge from his spot, though she could see his jaw move as if he was chewing on her words. When he'd finished masticating, she saw him swallow. Then he nodded, a look of satisfaction in his eyes.

"Alright, Specialist Sparkshower. I'm Gunther Bronzehorn, and this is my smithy. I make bronze weapons and armor in all styles, shapes, and sizes. What can I do for you?"

Artemis licked her lips.

"Well, I'm not here for myself, sir. I'm currently assigned to the Canterlot Palace Military Office as a member of a bodyguard quaternion for a Very Important Pony, and our VIP requires martial equipment. Since he's not actually a pony, I'm looking for an armorer with some understanding of non-equine physiology."

Gunther Bronzehorn started chewing again, and she saw him reach up to scratch his smoke-blackened snout, tugging on his large bronze nose-ring in the process.

Then he blinked, and leaned forward. "Let's get one thing clear, Specialist. I make armor for warriors, not bigwigs..."

The minotaur leaned back again. "... I don't do gilt, or filigree, or embossing, or bas-relief, or any other of that useless nonsense. And I only work with bronze."

Lifting his arm up off the table, he jabbed a fat thumb into his immensely broad chest. "My art is in making armor that fits well and works well, not in dressing a bull up to look good for the heifers."

He left it at that, and resumed his chewing of some invisible cud.

Artemis cleared her throat. "Mister Bronzehorn, sir, my VIP has been challenged to a fight before. We defended his honor then, but he wants to learn how to fight so he can defend himself, and my sergeant intends to train him. She doesn't want to start until he has appropriate armor so that he can, as you said, train in the armor he'll fight in."

The chewing stopped, and Bronzehorn narrowed his eyes. "This VIP of yours -- what is he?"

She sat down and started to gesture with her forehooves. "He's a 'human,' Sir. Sort of a bipedal hairless monkey. He looks a bit like a minotaur, but he walks on his feet, not on hooves, so his legs bend the other way around. And he's pretty tall, though not as tall as you, sir."

Gunther resumed chewing, thinking over her words. He glanced over at Featherhooves, but she just gave a simple shrug in response. Then his eyes went back to the pegasus, and the chewing continued for a few, uncomfortable moments more.

At last, the minotaur slowly nodded his head. "All right. When it comes to non-pony armor, nobody can beat Bronzehorn -- that's why my smithy is the sole supplier for the Princess-Cadenza's."

He lifted his enormous arm off the table, then dropped it down again with one finger holding it up.

"You tell your VIP, whoever and whatever he is, what I told you about how I work. If he's still interested, then have him come here for a measuring. Day or night -- my door is always open for those on the warrior's path."

The enormous minotaur pushed down on the counter and hauled himself up. "I've never worked on a 'human' before, but I'm sure I can figure out how to protect him."

With a wave of his hand, he gestured at the door. "If that's everything, then I've got to get back to the forge. There's another five suits of Diamond Dog armor to finish for tomorrow morning."

Artemis nodded and gave him a salute. Somehow, even though this minotaur was not in the military, it seemed appropriate.

Her gesture earned her what looked like an approving nod in response, before Gunther Bronzehorn drew open a heavy leather curtain and headed out of the immense building's fairly small showroom. The pegasus and griffon likewise exited the smithy and went back outside.

Private First Class Featherhooves turned to her. "Well, now you've met Gunther Bronzehorn, official blacksmith to the Princess Mi Amore Cadenza's Regiment of Auxiliaries."

She nodded back at the smithy. "He runs this place with his wife. She was probably working away in the back, and believe it or not, she's even bigger than he is."

Wow. Gunther had such an imposing presence, Artemis almost hoped she would never meet his wife.

Featherhooves raised her head-feathers and stretched out her wings. "Anyways, if there's nothing else, I guess that's ‘mission accomplished’ for me?"

Artemis nodded. "Spasibo, Ryadovoy Featherhooves. This is 'mission accomplished' for me, as well."

The Griffon smiled. "Alright, Specialist Sparkshower. You can find your way out of here OK? Then I'll see you around, olovyanny soldat."

Artemis smiled back, and the hen casually swung a clawed fist at her shoulder, creating a hollow 'clonk' against her bronze plate.

"Swing over to our barracks next time you've got some leave, Specialist. If you like a good party, I guarantee the 'Peregrines' will make it worth your while!"

She forcefully nodded her head, deliberately causing her bascinet visor to slam shut. "Thanks, I will!"

Exchanging a friendly nod to her new Griffon comrade, they both took off in opposite directions -- Featherhooves, back to Fort Newcastle-upon-Mare, and Sparkshower, back to Canterlot Palace.

Well, it looked like she’d found Anonymous an armorer!

Too bad it was so far away from the city. Newcastle-upon-Mare was only an hour outside of Canterlot by air, but probably three times that by stagecoach.

Hopefully, Sergeant Ebonshield had secured a training ground. And more importantly, hopefully she could convince Anonymous to follow through!

As nice as it was to make a new friend in Private First Class Featherhooves, it would be a waste if she came all the way out here and her VIP dropped the idea after all…

Author's Note

Well how about that? 49 consecutive chapters with a chapter a day! I didn't think I'd manage to keep it going this long on a daily schedule, but here we are. Unfortunately, 'here' has come with a noticeable uptick in errors and as the chapters have grown in length from 1500 to 4000 words per installment, it's quickly becoming unsustainable. For the time being, Everyday Life With Guardsmares will be switching to an every-other-day schedule. Thank you, everyone, for being here to enjoy the ride with me; there's a lot out there yet that I can't wait for you to see. :twilightsmile:

Chapter 50

Lily Glamerspear

Specialist Glamerspear had a front-row seat to the upcoming fireworks. Anonymous was sitting at his desk, doing paperwork -- or maybe just pretending to do paperwork, since he’d said he was going to 'act busy' when Kilfeather came by. And since her ex asked for a three o'clock visit, that should be any minute now. In front of her, Corporal Bound was standing in front of the double doors, one of her spears drawn, assembled, and held at attention. It was a shame Ebonshield wasn't back yet, as they could really use a third set of hooves; Kilfeather could be a real wagon load to manage, and Lily’s horn was still spellbound.

Still, she wouldn't mind giving him a good kick in the head if that's what it came down to.

She heard hoofsteps on the tile floor outside the doors, followed shortly afterwards by a knock. Honour gave Lily a knowing glance, before turning around and pulling the door open a crack. The unicorn could hear a hushed exchange of greetings, followed shortly after by the doors closing once more and the corporal stepping forward into the room, saluting.

"Sir, Lieutenant Kilfeather is here to see you."

Anonymous looked up from where he was hunched over his desk, with his pencil still in his hand.

"Show him in, Corporal."

The little bit of theater complete, Honour saluted, before she turned back to the door and opened it wide.

And there he was, the colt of the hour...

Lieutenant Valiant 'Icepone' Kilfeather. He was sitting sideways, looking off down the corridor as if he wasn't the least bit interested in the meeting.

Kilfeather turned his head and looked Lily in the eyes.

And that smug smile of his appeared on his face.

"Oh, hi Lily." Her ex-coltfriend stepped into the Royal Engineer's chambers, and Honour closed the door behind him. "Fancy meeting you here."

The slime-ball sauntered up towards her, undressing her with his eyes as he affected a fake look of concern. "How's the horn, by the way?"

Now that he was up close, she got a good look at the bandages enveloping his wing-arms.

"It'll be fine in another day or two, Val." She smirked. "How are the wings?"

He tilted his head back, licking the back of his teeth. "Heh. They could be better." Kilfeather glanced back at his left wing and uselessly shrugged it upwards, showing the bandages clearly.

"I'm afraid I'm grounded until the fall molt. Guess this means I'll be sitting out this year's MXP Games."

Lily squinted and pursed her lips, pouring out mock sympathy. "Aww, poor baby."

Lowering the wing, Kilfeather shrugged off her insult and glanced around the room. "It's a shame. I was really hoping to lead the squadron into the Grand Mêlée for a second clean sweep."

Lily was about to make another quip when the Royal Engineer, still sitting behind his desk, noisily cleared his throat.

"Lieutenant, I hope you haven't requested this audience merely to harangue my guards."

Lily’s ex dropped the grin and looked over at her VIP, who was glaring at him from underneath his reading-glasses. "My apologies, Lord. I wouldn't dream of wasting Your Excellency's valuable time."

As he put on his 'modesty' face and stepped towards the Royal Engineer's desk, her VIP made his retort, wearing a scowl.

"You've wasted quite a substantial amount of my time already, Lieutenant."

‘Heh.’

She resisted smirking as Kilfeather was put in his place.

The cocksure Lieutenant closed his eyes and bowed his head, licking his lips. "I know, sir, and I apologize. Please believe me when I say that I didn't do so deliberately."

"Your actions last weekend seemed rather deliberate to me."

Kilfeather had to grin as Lily's VIP sardonically laid into him. He sighed and tried to compose himself. "It was nothing personal, sir."

Anonymous put his pencil down and sat back in his chair. "From what I understand, Lieutenant, it was entirely personal; I just happened to not have been the person in question."

Once again, Kilfeather had to shut his eyes. He sighed and opened his mouth in a grin, chuckling. "Heh. I can see that I've started off on the wrong hoof, here," he began, glancing back at Lily. "...And also that my reputation has apparently preceded me."

Composing himself again, Kilfeather dropped the grin. "I'll get straight to the point, then. You have something of mine, my Lord, and I would like it back."

‘Huh?’

Lily shot a glance over at Honour, but her corporal was cool as a cucumber, and she couldn’t read anything in the mare’s stony face.

Kilfeather jerked a hoof back in Lily’s direction. "After your bodyguard defeated me in our duel, she grabbed my helmet -- what remained of it, at least. I want it back."

‘What the buck?’ He wanted his helmet back? Lily squinted, and was about to interject, when she saw Corporal Bound shake her head, ordering the specialist to hold it in.

Anonymous placed his elbows on his desk and clasped his fingers in front of him. "This sounds like a matter between you and Specialist Glamerspear, Lieutenant. What does it have to do with me?"

Even Lily knew the answer to that question, but Kilfeather gave the explanation.

"As a Lord, you were the commanding authority for Specialist Glamerspear at the time. You're responsible for any misdeeds she might have done under your leadership."

‘Oh, buck him!’

"Misdeeds!?" Kilfeather looked back as Lily stepped forwards towards him. "If anyone committed 'misdeeds,' it was you and your squadron, Val!"

He remained calm in spite of her outburst. "Not true. You stole my helmet."

Getting right in front of him and waggling her cone above his head, Lily jabbed a hoof into his chest. "Bullshit. That was a battlefield trophy, and my keeping it was done solely at the discretion of the commanding authority -- which, as you just pointed out, was the Royal Engineer at the time."

Val's grin returned, and he shook his head. "Ah-ah-ah, Lily. Battlefield trophies can only be taken from enemy combatants..."

He leaned his head forward, uncomfortably breaching her personal space, and Lily recoiled her head to match.

"... We're both in the Royal Guard. Duels don't count."

Lily scowled as he sat back normally again. What she wouldn't give to be able to shove a telekinetic spear up his smug face right now...

From behind his desk, Lily’s VIP spoke up. "Lieutenant Kilfeather, after Specialist Glamerspear was done with you, your helmet was a mangled mess, little more than scrap metal. Why do you want it back?"

Val turned his head back towards Anonymous. "Does it matter, sir? It's my property, and she stole it from me."

‘Wait a minute…’

It's not his property! This request of his made sense now.

"You mean it's the Royal Guard's property..."

Kilfeather swiveled his head around to squint at the specialist.

"... And you need it back because otherwise the loss of equipment is on you!"

He sat and looked at her in silence. That silence, plus the lack of a grin on his face, was all Lily needed to confirm her suspicions. Finally, he put his smirk on again and turned back to Anonymous.

"I've got to give your bodyguards credit, sir. They're not as stupid as they look."

‘Motherbucker!’

"But it still doesn't change the fact that I want you to order Specialist Glamerspear to return my helmet."

The Royal Engineer managed to keep perfectly calm. "You've been nothing but trouble to me and my entourage, Lieutenant. I'm not very inclined to accede to your request."

Kilfeather began grinning again. "I understand, my Lord. But believe me, sir, when I say that I don't want us to be enemies."

Was Val trying to threaten her VIP?

A member of the Privy Council?

That's crazy!

Anonymous lifted an eyebrow. "Pardon me, Lieutenant. Are you proposing to become my enemy if I refuse?"

Val shook his head. "Not if I can help it, sir..."

He shrugged his shoulders. "... But if you wrong me, then as a gentlecolt, what choice do I have?"

The Royal Engineer leaned forward, staring down at Kilfeather from behind his impressive desk.

"Lieutenant, from where I sit, I see a pony who has offended a large number of ponies and committed a number of outright crimes, and is likely to soon find themselves in a court-martial dock."

Kilfeather's grin broke into a full-on smile. "Ah yes, it does look that way, doesn't it, sir." He started nodding. "But you're wrong. And I don't blame you for failing to understand -- you don't know the delicate balancing act going on in the Royal Guard."

Kilfeather shook his head, twitching his ears. "They won't court-martial me. Not for all the outraged howls coming from the nobles I accosted at Oldstirrup Bridge. Not even for what you say I did. The leaders of the Royal Guard won't prostrate themselves towards the landed nobility and the idle rich -- not any more. They're trying to do away with purchased commissions and build a professional officer corps. They won't dare put me -- a non-noble officer, who cut his chops in the academy, an MXP champion and a decorated warrior -- on trial. It'll undo everything the Chiefs of Staff and the Minister of Defence have worked for."

He looked back at Lily, giving a nod towards her VIP. "Why don't you tell him, Lil'?"

‘Damn.’ The bastard really had thought this out.

Lily glanced down at the floor for a moment, pawing at it with her hoof. When she looked back up, Anonymous was waiting expectantly for an answer.

She sighed. "He may be right, sir. The Guard has been trying to kill off purchased commissions and to reduce the percentage of nobles in the officer corps. His 'Pas de Sabots' really drove a wedge between the nobility and the Royal Guard leadership. The reforms have popular support, and common ponies love to see the nobility get embarrassed."

Kilfeather chuckled, turning back to Anonymous. "Heh-heh, and I embarrassed them, all right. You should have seen what happened at Oldstirrup Bridge -- it was pathetic. Nopony put up even half as good a fight as your crew did."

He stepped forward, nodding and smiling from cheek to cheek. "That's why I moved even after your crew KO'd three of us. I knew the rookies in my squadron could handle a bunch of fops with nothing more than rent-a-guards. And Major-General Hoofstrong knew it, too: the 'Pas de Sabots' was her idea in the first place. I just came along and implemented it for her, with glorious results. She'll fight to defend me, and she has friends. They'll even try to suppress the first encounter at Newstirrup Bridge."

Anonymous slowly pulled off his reading glasses. "But you can still get in trouble for losing your equipment, is that it?"

Kilfeather shrugged. "A few days in the brig. A suspension for a few weeks or months. Maybe a demotion to Lieutenant Junior-Grade if the supporters of the Old Regime can trump up the charges enough and put together a sympathetic board of inquiry."

He rolled his head sideways. "Is that worth my enmity, sir? It doesn't sound like a good trade to me, and if you're the clever colt I now realize you are, it shouldn't to you, either."

When Anonymous didn’t say anything, Kilfeather continued. "That was my biggest mistake, by the way, my Lord -- not realizing how clever you were."

Anonymous cocked an eyebrow again. "Really, Lieutenant. After insulting my guards, you're trying flattery, now?"

Kilfeather shook his head. "It's not flattery, sir. It's just honesty -- I figured you'd appreciate it."

He breathed a deep sigh, gesturing with one hoof. "I knew you had to be smart if Her Majesty made you the Royal Engineer. But I thought if I put you on the spot -- really turn on the pressure -- you and your entourage wouldn't be clever enough to beat me."

Kilfeather licked his lips and beamed. "That's my speciality, after all -- intuition, figuring things out with the clock ticking..."

He shook his head and pointed up towards the sky. "Up there, you don't have time to think. If you think, you're dead."

With a smile, Lily’s scheming ex-coltfriend lowered his hoof and waited expectantly in front of Anonymous' desk.

And her stony-faced VIP sat there looking at him for a good long time.

Eventually he looked over at Lily, and inhaled deeply before speaking softly. "Specialist, go and get the Lieutenant's helmet."

‘What!’

Lily couldn’t withhold her indignation. "Now, wait just a second, sir!"

Kilfeather grinned as Anonymous interrupted her. "Unless you can think of a legitimate reason to hold onto that helmet, Specialist Glamerspear, then we have to return it."

"Yeah, Lily, go do as your VIP tells you."

The unicorn stared daggers at Kilfeather.

Anonymous broke the silence by addressing himself to Honour. "On second thought, Corporal, why don't you go and fetch it? Do you know where it is?"

She saluted. "Yes, sir. I do, sir."

With that, she exited the room to trot upstairs. No doubt she'd seen it sitting on Lily’s desk.

She couldn’t believe Kilfeather was getting what he wanted! But she supposed he was right; there was nothing she could do to him that was worth it in the long run. Trying to force the issue would just result in making enemies not just of him, but the higher-ups in the Royal Guard who wanted this 'Pas de Sabots' to succeed. Bucking asshole was backed up by a whole damn conspiracy.

At least Anonymous had spared her the humiliation of having to turn it back over personally.

Kilfeather was still staring intently at her. When he saw her returning his gaze, he nodded, glancing down at Lily’s chest.

"The Silver Ram... So you really are a war hero, huh?"

Apparently, he only just now noticed the medal she was wearing around her neck.

Lily cocked an eyebrow. "You didn't believe me when I said I was a Centurion of the Order, Val?"

He chuckled. "Oh, I believed you... I wouldn't have put it past you to lie, but I believed you. You deserved it, after all."

Kilfeather licked his lips, and for a moment, that smug grin on his face actually appeared sincere. "...I always knew you were the best anti-air gunner in the Royal Guard. That's why I had my squadron lead our dogfights towards your defense sector during the Invasion."

Lily blinked.

"You're joking. You and me were already broken up by then."

Val rolled his head around. "Aw, come on, Lil'. I may be an asshole -- hell, I know I'm an asshole -- but I'm an asshole who knows how to keep my professional and personal lives separate. I might've screwed things up with you, sure..."

He turned to face Anonymous, and gave what actually looked like a proper, respectful bow to her VIP.

"I might've even used a superior officer's political scheme for personal ends."

Lifting his head, he stepped back so that he could look at both Lily and the Royal Engineer together.

"...But I know how to fight, and I know when I see a real fighter standing before me. Me and my squadron got creamed during the Changeling Invasion -- almost everypony did -- but before we went down, we took a bunch of the bastards with us, and I made sure to lead the rest to the ponies I knew could best destroy them."

Kilfeather's smirk snuck back onto his face, and he lifted both of his forehooves to point them in Lily’s direction.

"That was the 86th Artys, at least while you were in 'em, babe. I knew from the moment I set eyes on you that you were going to do great things. That's what drew me to you, not your little side business. It was the same thing with your Pegasus comrade... She's got the eye of the tiger, too."

Lily rolled her eyes as the door opened and Corporal Bound came back in.

"You're full of yourself, Kilfeather."

He grinned. "I'm full of danger, baby. And that's what you liked about me."

As he beamed satisfaction and confidence, Honour stepped forward and pulled his helmet wreckage out of a saddle-bag. It still looked like it got trampled flat by a stampede -- and then breathed on by a dragon for good measure.

Anonymous cleared his throat. "If you're quite finished, Lieutenant -- your helmet."

With a smile, Kilfeather took it back from Corporal Bound and put it into his own saddle-bag.

"Many thanks, Corporal."

He stepped to his hooves and saluted Lily’s VIP. "And many thanks to you as well, my Lord. I'm glad this situation has been resolved amiably."

Anonymous swiveled his chair to one side. "As am I. However, I'm sure you'll understand if I would prefer not to meet you again, Lieutenant."

The put-down just made Kilfeather perk up more. "I understand, sir. Although, I have to admit, I find the possibility of a rematch -- a friendly one, of course -- very enticing."

The Royal Engineer gave him a cold stare. "I imagine the Royal Guard will not be in a hurry to authorize a second 'Pas de Sabots.'"

Kilfeather shook his head, still smiling. "Ha-ha, no, I imagine that they won't... And I'm not in any shape for anything right now, either. But you know, My Lord, word will eventually get around that your group soundly beat mine, and sporting duels for status and bragging rights aren't uncommon in the Guard. Somepony else may want to test your mettle before I get another chance."

He cocked his neck sideways. "If I were you, I'd make sure to keep my bodyguards in top form."

With a final salute, and no response from Anonymous to that parting threat -- was it even a threat? -- Lily’s trouble-making ex-coltfriend turned around and headed for the door.

The door that Sergeant Ebonshield, dressed in her black armor and a sweeping, long, black cloak that draped all the way down to radiate outwards on the floor, was standing resolutely beside.

That stopped Kilfeather in his tracks.

"Hell-o, what do we have here?"

He looked over his shoulder at the Royal Engineer. "This is quite the menagerie of guards you've gathered together, my Lord Engineer."

Stepping forward again, Kilfeather approached the cloaked batpony, who at the moment was only distinguishable from any other kind by her slit eyes and tufted ears.

"Now I really am interested in a four-on-four rematch! What's your name, tall, dark and mysterious?"

Sergeant Ebonshield didn’t move her head, and just looked sideways at him.

"Danger."

Her cold voice did nothing to dampen his mood.

"You don't say? It's my middle name..."

Standing in front of the door, Kilfeather turned back to the rest of the room. "My Lord, it was a pleasure doing business with you. I look eagerly forward to our next meeting. Good day, sir!"

Laughing, he pulled the door open, exited the room, and closed it behind him.

There was a long moment where nopony said anything. The silence was finally broken by Anonymous, who raised his hand to rub the bridge of his nose.

"Sergeant, I think I'd like to expedite that combat training plan of yours."

Instantly, she turned to face him and bowed her head. "Certainly, Great Lord. Specialist Sparkshower returned just before the Corporal Bound came to bring me down in support. She has located a blacksmith who should satisfy your requirements. All that must be done is to call upon him for a measuring."

Tired, the Royal Engineer laid one hand on his desk. "Should we go now? Will he still be open?"

Ebonshield bowed her head again. "Great Lord, the village where can be found this blacksmith is almost three hours away by ground. Specialist Sparkshower reported to me that he is pleased to serve the customers genuine at any time of day, but I should caution the Great Lord that we would not arrive until after nightfall, and it would surely be quite late by the time we returned."

That sounded pretty far.

All eyes were on Anonymous, who frowned and looked down at his hands.

"Hmmm... Maybe not, though..." He looked up, and there was a small smile on his face. "... I still have an open offer from Princess Celestia to make use of one of her flying carriages."

‘Aw, yeah!’

Suggested interlude music: Kenny Loggins - 'Danger Zone', from 'Top Gun' [1986]
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=siwpn14IE7E

Chapter 51

Honour Bound

Nothing in Honour Bound’s life had been as terrifying as this.

Not the gruelling days of horseshoe camp, being yelled at by knife-hoofing drill instructors at all hours of the day and night.

Not the first day on the job in the VIP service, when she was still naive about what that meant, and sweating cannonballs at the mere thought of messing up in front of some bigwig dignitary.

Not even during the war, when she had single-hoofedly set up barricades in the palace guest quarters and fought off three changelings who tried to force their way in.

And from the look of Specialist Glamerspear, even though she had a front-row seat to the Invasion, she felt the same way Honour did; neither of them had understood the true depths of terror before now.

Honour’s unicorn squadmate was sitting, almost indecently, spread-eagle on the opposite bench, with her hind hooves hooked under the bottom of the seat and her forehooves groping for any kind of purchase on the seat-back. Facing towards the rear of the carriage, she was puffing her cheeks out with every breath like she was experiencing contractions as she alternated between shutting her eyes for sheer terror and forcing them open to avoid nausea.

Honour was in much the same boat -- or carriage, rather.

Out the forward window, just behind Glamerspear's head, the team of six pegasi up front suddenly dipped downward out of sight, probably due to some kind of air pressure thing that Honour was sure Sparkshower knew all about, and she instinctively clenched. And as sure as rain in the spring, the carriage lurched downwards after them, its metal sub-frame groaning and its wooden body creaking as it flexed awkwardly to follow. The small glowing crystal chandelier swung back and forth, too, casting a dizzying array of shifting shadows against the walls. Honour saw the carriage-pullers swing back up across the window frame, and the same, horrifying thing happened again in reverse.

How in the Nine Hells of Tartarus did Princess Celestia ride one of these things and yet emerge still able to stand on her own four hooves? Or while looking so happy and gay, for that matter?

Did her VIP just get the bad apple of the garage, or something?

As the carriage mercifully leveled out and Honour was granted the reprieve of a (regrettably brief) period of steady flight, she supposed she knew the answer to the second question: It's because Her Majesty has wings. Whereas the three ponies -- well, two ponies and a Very Important Pony who isn't a pony -- using it now were completely without ability to maneuver in the air.

Although, weren't unicorns supposed to have something for that?

"Hey, Glamerspear."

Honour’s subordinate was entirely too preoccupied with being utterly horrified and thoroughly nauseated to hear her first, feeble attempt to get the specialist’s attention. Not to mention the frigid wind rushing in through the side windows, which made it nearly impossible to hear almost anything. She’d already tried shutting them though, and everypony agreed that it just made the nausea worse. Cold and windy had been found preferable to stuffy and barfy.

"HEY, GLAMERSPEAR!"

Still hanging on for dear life, she opened her eyes and looked at the corporal.

"WHAT?"

Seeing that the Pegasi were still flying straight and level, though Honour would never have known it from the way the carriage was bucking and swaying from the wind, she took a chance and leaned forward so as to not have to shout quite so much.

"If something goes wrong, you can levitate, right?"

Panting almost to the point of hyperventilation, she nodded her head. "Yeah, sure; I can float all three of us."

She quickly plucked one of her hooves out from where it was holding on to the back of the seat and gestured at the top of her head.

"... Just not while I have this crap on my horn."

‘Oh, right.’

The spellbinders, and the mana-cone. How had Honour forgotten those?

Forty-five minutes of shake-rattle-and-roll will do that to a brain. It was a miracle she could still put two words together.

Honour spotted the carriage pulling pegasi as they swung right, and she leaned back and tightened her grip.

"HOLD ON!"

The carriage lurched sideways, rolling over slightly to one side, and Glamerspear closed her eyes. Honour was tempted to do the same, but at least while she was sitting on the forward-facing seat, keeping her eyes open let her see the movement before it came. There was almost enough space on Honour's bench for Glamerspear to come over there and join her, but the carriage wouldn’t stay still enough for her to risk it.

Maybe for the trip back.

The corporal looked up and to her left at her VIP. He had his legs stretched out and braced against the opposite floor-frame, and his knuckles were white from gripping the seat bottom so tightly. Somehow, he didn’t look as sick or as scared as Honour felt, but his brow underneath his top hat was covered with sweat, and every now and again he risked letting go with one hand to dab it with his handkerchief.

Said handkerchief was now absolutely soaked.

"ARE YOU ALL RIGHT, SIR?"

Anonymous nodded his head quickly, then leaned over to the left to brace himself against the sidewall as the team of Pegasi swung right. The force of the turn almost threw Honour out of her seat and into his lap, but she managed to splay out a forehoof on the bench to keep herself from tumbling. As the carriage rolled over sideways, everypony inside got a horrifying look at just how far of a fall it would be if any single part of the rickety contraption let go. Glamerspear in particular took one glance and then scrambled up to the opposite wall.

A few seconds later, the floor leveled out, and the ground was thankfully out of sight once more.

Seeing the Pegasi flying straight and true, Anonymous pushed away from the wall and sat upright again, taking the opportunity to wipe his brow of sweat.

"I used to love roller coasters back on my world..."

Holding the handkerchief out in front of him, he wrung it out onto the painted wooden floor. It was a bit improper to soil Her Majesty's carriage in that way, but frankly, she counted herself lucky that nopony had thrown up inside of it yet. If anypony did, and Honour’s money would be on Glamerspear to start it, she’d probably follow them right along after. A little bit of sweat, by comparison, was no big deal.

"... I liked rock climbing... Went bungee-jumping once or twice while on holiday..."

Giving the handkerchief a final shake, he wiped off the rest of his face.

"...I even did a tandem hang glide and tandem parachute jump at events with coworkers..."

Breathing heavily, he folded it away in his pocket.

"... And I certainly never had any trouble on commercial flights."

Honour shot a confused glance at Glamerspear. Did she just hear that? Was the ride getting to him more than it was to her?

But the unicorn was frozen solid and paying no attention.

Honour looked up at her VIP. "Commercial flights, sir? I didn't think your people had wings?"

Anonymous nodded. "We built flying machines, Corporal. Hollow cylinders framed in wood or aluminium, with fixed wings and engines that push air backwards. Once we get to decent internal combustion engines here, I'll build one. They can be very safe."

Stretching out his arm along the backrest, he adopted a new bracing strategy, probably more from being stiff and sore with the last one than anything else.

"But on my world they were heavily regulated and constantly inspected. Same with the roller coasters and other thrill rides."

Teeth clenched, he looked around the elegantly-decorated carriage interior.

Plush seats.

Fine wallpaper.

Magical chandelier.

Decorated glass windows.

Doors padded in sewn velvet.

"As elegant as it is, I get the feeling this carriage may not have been built to quite the same standards -- if not safety-wise, then at least in terms of its suspension and ride quality."

Honour nodded. "It does seem to have been built for ponies who aren't concerned about falling out of the sky, sir."

There was a fluttering, bronze, creamy thing at the right window.

"Hey sir, we're almost there! I've shown the team leader where to land!"

It was Sparkshower, clutching her spear and looking chipper as ever against the late-afternoon sky.

Out the left window, Honour spotted Ebonshield closing in as well. Hmm, this was the first time she’d actually seen her -- or any batpony at all -- in flight. She had her cloak rolled up on her back like a bedroll, but was wearing every piece of her armor, and she appeared to be armed as well. It was more than she wore when she was on regular duty with Anonymous.

Glancing back and forth between Sparkshower and Ebonshield, Honour could tell that the batpony didn’t move like a pegasus did -- the sergeant’s wings were shorter, and she used them in brief, quick flutters rather than Sparkshowers' broad strokes. Both of them coasted as much as they could, of course, but the difference was still noticeable every time they went to flap.

There were more important things at hoof right now, though.

"Sparkshower -- if anything happens, remember that the VIP is your priority, okay?"

She furrowed her brow. "What do you mean, if anything happens?"

Hooking one foreleg out the window, Honour leaned over and stuck her muzzle a little bit outside so as not to have to shout. "Nopony in here can fly, remember? If anything goes wrong, save Anonymous."

Sparkshower’s eyes went wide, as if she just realized that they were all in the carriage purely because they couldn't fly, and not because they had chosen not to. It was probably a natural assumption for a pegasus, that the only things up in the sky were things that could make it up there themselves.

"I don't think I could carry him... But I could grab him and slow his descent, at least."

"That'll do. He says he's parachuted before."

Sparkshower nodded and backed away again to give the carriage team more room to maneuver.

Honour pulled herself back inside.

Why didn't she think to give her that order before the flight? Safety procedures like that ought to be restated for everypony's benefit before the carriage even takes off. For that matter, some damn seat belts would be sorely appreciated. Or at least something to hold on to! But who was going to think about safety procedures in a carriage where the typical occupants were immortal flying sorcerers?

Up ahead, Honour saw the team of Pegasi slowly drift down towards the bottom of the window-frame. The carriage followed along, this time with a gentler, sweeping motion. But it still made Honour feel like she was about to go flying out of her seat.

And there was a head rush, too. The window-panes rattled, and her ears popped.

Thank Celestia!

She’d had that ear-ache for half an hour.

Anonymous braced his legs higher up on the opposite bench, pressing his shoes into the plush seating, and slouching down so that he could bend his knees.

The lead carriage-pulling pegasus, harnessed at the front-left, turned back and hollered at the rest of the team.

"DEPLOY AIR BRAKES!"

As a country road swung menacingly close into sight, all three pairs of ponies stretched out their wings, ceasing their flapping, and Honour found herself being thrown forward from momentum. Thankfully, everypony managed to stay in their seat, though the struggle was real. The carriage seemed to drop out from underneath her as well, from the sudden lack of forward propulsion.

"PREPARE FOR LANDING! WHEELERS, ENGAGE LANDING GEAR!"

As the four leader ponies began to mock-gallop to match their hooves to the ground, the two rear ponies -- the wheelers -- stiffened their legs, then reached over and set special braces mounted to their enormous, oversized sabots.

Brake shoes.

Honour glanced around the cabin. Glamerspear had her eyes closed and appeared to be muttering a prayer. Anonymous' gaze was fixed ahead forward at the muddy road, adjusting himself so as to maximize the padding underneath him and his ability to use his own knees to cushion the shock.

Honour sure hoped it wasn't going to be that rough of a landing. Celestia never seemed to get jerked around when she landed at Royal engagements -- did she? She was having difficulty recalling the details.

Just then, the enormous oversized carriage wheels caught some of the earth, flinging it against the window, and the carriage ricocheted back up.

"GET 'ER DOWN ON THE DECK, NOW!"

The Pegasi all leaned back and forced their wings against the wind, and their ride came slamming down onto its wheels again. This time, the springs bore most of the impact, and, beyond everypony's head jerking forward and down, accompanied by a sense that Honour had just had her spine compressed, the carriage stayed on the ground and nopony was worse for wear.

The two wheeler Pegasi jammed their armored plow-hooves into the dirt path and kicked up a huge plume of mud and dust in the process.

Straight into the carriage behind them, of course. The spatter was so bad that the forward window was almost instantly covered.

'They must have to completely hose these things down after every single flight!'

Before Honour could contemplate that further, she and Anonymous both lurched forwards as the braking force caught up with them. Once again, they both somehow managed to stay in their seats. Honour would have literally killed somepony for some reins to hold onto, though.

With the two wheelers digging in, and the four leads doing their best to stay airborne while coming to a stop, the carriage soon came screeching to a halt. As the four leads touched down with it, Honour felt able to catch her breath for the first time in the whole forty-five minute nightmare.

And how enthusiastically it had all begun!

'Oh, we'll take a Royal Flying Carriage, it'll be quick and stylish and fun!'

It was quick, all right.

Nopony’d said anything about 'safe.'

Anonymous lowered his legs and placed his hands on his knees. "Good God, that was harrowing." Bending forward, he pulled off his top hat and rubbed his cheeks with his hands.

Glamerspear was still glued to the opposite bench, still terrified that the carriage was about to take flight again.

There was a fluttering noise, and Honour found Sergeant Ebonshield was up against the window.

"Are you all right, Great Lord? Is everypony all right?"

Anonymous sat back up and nodded, sighing.

Even Glamerspear lowered a shivering hoof down to the floor. "Is it over? Are we on the ground again?"

Honour got to her hooves -- slowly and hesitantly at first. It was almost surprising to find her knees hadn’t turned completely to jelly, and that she could still stand upright. "We're on the ground, Glamerspear. You can get up, now."

"Oh, sweet Celestia of Equestria, hallowed be thy name, thank you."

As Anonymous got to his feet as well, Ebonshield, still fluttering in the air, twisted the handle and pulled open the carriage door. He replaced his top hat and then, holding on to the window-frame, climbed out. After checking that Glamerspear was managing to get herself upright as well, Honour followed him.

There was a trail of utter destruction to her left, where the wheeler ponies' heavy brake-sabots had completely plowed-over the muddy road. Not that it was much to speak of before that, but now it looked like somepony was about to sow it with seeds.

Looking the other way, Honour nearly jumped out of her sabots. Their Pegasus team had landed the carriage almost directly in front of a large, one-and-a-half story building. And from the smell of smoke, it was the blacksmith.

‘Huh.’

Despite the rough landing, the team clearly knew what it was doing.

Anonymous dusted himself off and tipped his hat to the flight leader. "Thank you for the trip, Captain. We shouldn't be terribly long inside."

The pegasus nodded. "Take your time, sir. We can use the breather to tidy up and prepare for the return flight."

Shaking their shoulders and flapping their wings, the six Pegasi unhooked themselves from their harnesses and started to stretch, one of them heading to the luggage-box to grab a large bottle of water as well.

Finally, Honour heard hoofsteps from behind her, and Glamerspear emerged from the carriage, looking a little worse for wear, but still professional and resolute. Ebonshield and Sparkshower touched down soon after as well.

The quaternion was assembled, and Anonymous took a first step towards the smithy.

"Stoy gde stoish, kriminalynoe otrodye!"

‘Now what the hell!?’

Chapter 52

Artemis Sparkshower

Specialist Artemis Sparkshower was feeling pretty ashamed of herself.

How could she have spent the whole flight unprepared for the possibility that Anonymous, Lily, and Honour would need her help if anything went wrong? It wasn’t just because she was a pegasus; she hadn’t gone and temporarily forgotten that other ponies didn’t always have wings, nope, no-way, nuh-uh, nossir!

For one, Artemis had never even heard of anything ever going 'wrong' with one of Her Royal Majesty's Royal Flying Carriages before. And even if something did go wrong, the carriages always carried Princess Celestia, who could certainly use her own magic to fix the problem.

Plus, the pegasi pulling the carriage probably knew what to do in an emergency.

And Artemis would surely have dived down after them if anything had happened! Regardless, she was disappointed with herself for her failure to 'Improvise, Adapt, and Overcome' -- the official motto of the Armored Scouts. Especially after seeing how everypony looked inside the carriage!

At first, she’d put their strange postures down to excitement and a desire to relax a bit. But when the corporal clued her in to what she might need to do, well, that put their strange sitting positions in a whole new light. It was while Artemis was in this rather guilty state of mind that she heard somepony call out from above in Griffonese.

"Stop right there, criminal scum!"

Spear at the ready, Artemis looked up and saw a griffon high up in the sky.

‘Oh, it’s Private First Class Featherhooves.’

Hey, wait a minute! Where did she get off calling Artemis a 'criminal'?

This Griffon and her jokes!

The jester of a Private came screeching down like she was pouncing on prey, and Artemis saw Eb and Honour move to ready their weapons, while Glamerspear took a step back.

Sensing a need to defuse the situation, Artemis piped up. "It's okay, everypony, I know her; she's Royal Guard."

Glamerspear held her ground, but the corporal still had her hoof on her spear, and the sergeant kept her eyes on the airborne intruder.

‘Uhh, is Featherhooves going to slow down or…’

Ebonshield leaped backwards and away, while their VIP turned his head and put his arm up to shield his face.

WHOOMP!

The Griffon crashed down to the ground in the open space between the group, spattering everyone with mud, dirt and dust, but otherwise landing perfectly on her feet despite keeping up a tremendous speed until the very end. Recovering faster than Artemis had thought possible, Featherhooves stepped over and playfully punched her pauldron.

"What's up, Specialist Sparkshower? Didn't think I'd see you back in my neck of the woods so soon!"

She switched to speaking Equestrian, which didn’t do much to put her companions at ease, what with all the mud now coating them. Including Anonymous.

Artemis noisily cleared her throat. "Ahem. Private Featherhooves, may I introduce Anonymous, By Appointment to Their Majesties Princess Celestia and Princess Luna, Royal Engineer of Equestria."

As before, when Artemis had revealed that she wasn’t a Valkyrie, Featherhooves' eyes did that funny griffon thing where they went as narrow as dots and then as wide as dinner plates.

"Oh, uh..."

Snapping to attention, she jumped into an enthusiastic, but shabby salute that definitely wouldn't pass muster in the VIP service. "... Sorry, your Lordship! I didn't mean to interrupt your official business!"

One of the carriage-pullers trotted over and gave Anonymous a towel, scowling in Featherhooves' general direction.

Artemis’ VIP took his time dusting himself off before replying.

"Do you always greet visitors by dive-bombing them, Private?"

Artemis’ griffon comrade gulped.

"Uhm... Well, sir, if we're flying DRAGCAP, and we suspect that they're intruders..."

Artemis doubted that her VIP knew the acronym for 'DRAgon/Griffon/Changeling Air Patrol' -- named for the three flying creatures most commonly watched for as potential threats to Equestria -- so Artemis spoke up in her defense.

"Sir, Private Featherhooves was the soldier tasked with escorting and introducing me to the smith here, Mister Bronzehorn."

Her VIP nodded and passed the towel over to Corporal Bound, who wiped herself off as well.

"Mm-hmm. Well, since she's here, why doesn't she introduce the rest of us as well?"

Featherhooves saluted again, a little more properly this time. "Sir, yes, sir!"

As Anonymous turned away to get his personal effects from the luggage-box, Artemis leaned over to the prankster Private and spoke in a hushed voice, holding her bascinet-visor up with one hoof. "What are you even doing out here, Featherhooves?"

She gave the pegasus a sheepish grin. "I got given double-duty DRAGCAP after the stunt with you and Major Bloodnok back at the Fort. When I saw one of the Royal Flying Carriages swing in to land, I thought maybe it was your VIP, and moved closer to investigate. Then I saw you and, uh..."

The Griffon reached up and scratched awkwardly at her feathery neck -- largely covered by the bronze gorget she was now wearing. "... I guess I was so excited to say hello again, I forgot that you had somepony important with you. And I thought the mud would be a fun prank. Sorry about that."

Artemis was starting to understand why the corporal was always shaking her head and rolling her eyes at her -- because she felt like doing it to Private Featherhooves, here. And, sure enough, from a few paces away, Honour was already at it, having passed the cleaning towel on to Glamerspear.

Sighing, Artemis spoke up again. "Just... try to keep it together in front of the Royal Engineer, okay? He's a friendly and forgiving colt, but this is serious business for him. Somepony has already threatened him, so he needs to get equipped. You understand, podruga?"

The Griffon nodded. "Don't worry, I won't embarrass you again!" The black band around her right eye got bigger as she lifted an eyebrow. "... But who would threaten the Royal Engineer of Equestria? Isn't he kind of a big deal?"

Artemis shook her head. "I'll tell you about it later."

Specialist Glamerspear, cleaned off and steady on her hooves, tossed the towel at Artemis while sneering at Featherhooves. She almost had to drop her spear to catch the towel before it landed in the road.

"All you need to know, bird-brain, is that they play hard games. Not like your childish crap, Private."

Featherhooves frowned angrily at the unicorn, but Glamerspear just shook her head in disgust and trotted off.

Sighing, Artemis began to wipe her own armor down. Featherhooves really did manage to get the stuff everywhere!

"Don't mind her. She's under the weather right now, and the ride over here wasn't as smooth as Princess Celestia makes it look to be."

The Griffon looked just about ready to administer a sharp comeback, but bit her tongue instead. Eventually, she just sighed. "I guess I have exceeded my 'ponies pissed off' quota for today. I don't want to wind up flying double-shift DRAGCAP until the fall molt."

Artemis nodded.

"Any time now, Private." From over closer to the building, Corporal Bound called the pegasus over, waiting with their VIP and the rest of the quaternion.

Featherhooves snapped to parade rest. "Yes, Corporal! Right this way, Mister--"

Artemis quickly leaned over and whispered a correction into her ear. "Lord Engineer."

"--Lord Engineer, sir!"

Anonymous nodded in acknowledgement, and the two of them pulled open the door to head in first.

Inside, Bronzehorn Arms and Armor looked just the same as it had that afternoon, except darker, though a number of lamps hanging from the ceiling provided sufficient illumination. All four of the plastered interior walls were covered with bronze weapons, and three, two-tier shelves in the middle of the room were piled with pieces of armor. There were some new bundles at the shopkeeper's table, though; four suits of armor, each tied up neatly with string. Those must have been the rush orders for the Princess-Cadenza's Regiment’s new diamond dog recruits.

Stepping forward with Featherhooves, Artemis made for the bell hanging beside the table. Behind her, Anonymous and the rest of the quaternion entered and began to window-shop the materials on display.

"Wow, is this a store or an armory?" Glamerspear seemed particularly interested in the variety of helmets on exhibit.

Sergeant Ebonshield, meanwhile, was admiring the swords. "This is quite the collection, yes."

Artemis pulled eagerly on the service-bell's rope, and it shook out a hollow clatter. From far beyond the curtain covering the entrance deeper into the building, she heard a deep voice bellow.

"Just a minute!"

Featherhooves rolled her eyes beside the pegasus. "I can't believe he uses that as a call."

Artemis shook her head. "Why not? He heard it back there all right."

The Griffon scoffed. "It's a cowbell, Sparkshower. And he's a bronzesmith! He should make himself a big clock-bell, or a nice tuned cylinder..." She gestured eagerly with her talons. "... or like a huge freaking gong, with a big mallet to match! It'd be appropriately sized, at least."

There was a dull, rhythmic thudding coming from inside the building. And it was getting louder, and closer…

Artemis was not afraid of the smith, but she was feeling intimidated again just thinking about him.

Five fat black fingers grasped the edge of the curtain, and they drew it back in one swift motion. With his hooves pounding loudly against the earth floor, Gunther Bronzehorn -- who might just be Equestria's largest minotaur, at least as far as Artemis knew -- entered the room, wearing a large leather apron and carrying another bundled up set of armor.

Immediately, he looked down at Featherhooves as he pulled the curtain shut again. "You're just in time, Private. And I see you're properly dressed. But I wasn't going to send word that these were done until morning."

Featherhooves shook her head. "I'm not here for the armor, Bronzehorn. Specialist Sparkshower here is back with her VIP."

The minotaur smith put the bundle down and wiped a broad forearm across his blackened snout, looking over the new customers in his shop. "So she is." With the same loud whump Artemis had heard earlier that day, only doubled this time, he leaned forward and rested both of his huge arms on the table.

‘Geez, you could conceal a whole platoon behind those massive slabs.’

Turning around, Artemis saw that Anonymous was still inspecting some of the armor pieces on display. He was holding some kind of strange helmet in his hands.

Looking back at the smith, she indicated her VIP with a wave of her forehoof, and raised her voice for everyone to hear. "Mister Bronzehorn -- this my VIP, Anonymous, the Royal Engineer of Equestria."

The enormous minotaur nodded his head, his wide-shanked horns waving in the air. "I figured." He lifted his arm and extended a hand, raising his voice to a loud boom. "Welcome to Bronzehorn Arms and Armor, my Lord."

Wearing a polite smile, Anonymous stepped forward and stretched out his own hand.

"I'm Gunther Bronzehorn, proprietor."

Her VIP shook hands with the minotaur, who looked big enough to just straight-up lift him into the air. Or throw him all the way back to Canterlot, even.

Nonetheless, the Royal Engineer remained calm and polite. "A pleasure to meet you, Mister Bronzehorn. I hope it's not too late for a business call?"

Even Anonymous had to turn his head up to talk to the Minotaur -- and the Royal Engineer was taller than Princess Luna!

The bull’s huge horns swiveled left and right as the minotaur shook his head. "It's never too late to do good business. What do you need?"

"I'm here to get a suit of armor and a set of weapons made."

Bronzehorn laid his massive slab of an arm down on the desk again. "Uh-huh, well, you're in the right place. Your bodyguard here said you were something unique, and I don't think I've seen any of your kind before, so I guess she was right."

"I'm afraid I'm the only one in Equestria, as far as I know."

From behind black lips, the minotaur grinned his white herbivore teeth down at Artemis’ VIP, masticating aimlessly. "Good, I like a challenge. What do you need equipment for? You commissioning into the Royal Guard?"

The Royal Engineer smiled, before looking over at Ebonshield. "Not exactly... Sergeant, perhaps you could explain the situation?"

The batpony trotted over and bowed twice -- first, to Anonymous, and then to the blacksmith.

"Certainly, Great Lord. Honorable blacksmith, the Great Lord does not plan to commission into the 'Guardia Real.' Rather, he must be equipped for duelling. The possibility is greatest that he would be matched against a pony -- pegasus, or even earth or unicorn -- but it would be preferable if he were ready to face any foe."

As she spoke in her batpony accent, the Minotaur's big eyes narrowed.

"The Great Lord intends to take instruction in combat and will be training in the armor, as well. We will all be training with him, so as to prepare him for the different kinds of foes he may face. There may, therefore, be damage to the suit during this educational period."

When she was done speaking, Bronzehorn scratched his chin and addressed himself to Anonymous. "Fair enough. What kind of armor do you want? Your sergeant sounds like she already has something in mind."

The Royal Engineer gave a deferential glance to Ebonshield, but the batpony merely bowed and shook her head. "I have not presupposed a particular arrangement. This was my hope that by meeting, we could decide the best combination of the armorer's art and the Great Lord's abilities and preferences."

Bronzehorn nodded. "I see... Well, what are your 'abilities and preferences,' then, m'Lord? Or would you like to hear my suggestions first?"

Anonymous put on a pleasant smile. "I'd appreciate your suggestions, mister Bronzehorn."

The thick meaty slabs of minotaur arms lifted off of the table, and Gunther, the enormous smith, stood up straight again. No wonder the ceiling was so high in there! In any ordinary building, his head would be through to the next floor, and his horns would be slapping ponies in their faces.

Stepping out from behind his desk, Bronzehorn headed over to the armor racks. "In general, there's three kinds of armor. There's your ordinary 'middleweight' tier of banded armor, like what they're wearing." Picking up a sample cuirass off the shelves in one hand, he pointed at Corporal Bound, Private First Class Featherhooves, and Specialist Sparkshower with the other, before lingering a while on the unicorn.

"She's got a special helmet, but otherwise it's basically one of these. Here, this is sized for a minotaur of about your height; feel the weight." Bronzehorn handed it over to Anonymous, who held it in both hands, hefting it up and down a bit. "The Royal Guard, being a standing army, mostly equips its soldiers with medium armors like these because they're heavy enough to provide good protection, without being too heavy for ponies to march or fly long distances in. Properly fitted and supported, most barely even notice it."

Glamerspear scoffed. "Pfft. We notice it alright."

Bronzehorn didn’t even have to step toward the unicorn in order to loom over her. "I didn't make your armor, Specialist. But I can tell from here you need it pulled in at the shoulder and let out in the croup."

Artemis’ unicorn comrade was taken aback by his verdict, twisting her head around to look herself over. "What? This is how I always wear it..."

Honour leaned over and pushed on the puzzled Specialist's croupiere. Rather than transferring the force to her flank, Artemis could see the armor push against Glamerspear's leg instead.

"Hey!"

Corporal Bound smiled. "Looks like you need to let that plot-belt out a notch."

Glamerspear frowned angrily, and twisted around to adjust her armor, muttering under her breath. "I've always kept this buckle at the second hole, damn it! Gonna have to run loops around Canterlot Mountain for a week..."

Honour smirked, while Ebonshield barely concealed a chuckle.

Bronzehorn just stepped over and took the helmet back from Anonymous. "There's different styles, of course, and each piece -- cuirass, greaves, sabots, bracers, helmet -- is independent enough that you don't have to wear all of them if you choose not to. You can also take a medium-weight armor and add extra pieces to provide better protection to certain areas without making it as heavy as a full plate suit. And speaking of those..." From a bottom shelf, he hefted up an enormous, barrel-shaped cuirass of thick bronze. "... Here's a heavy plate cuirass I made for a dragon - a young one - decades ago. He's outgrown it, now, but I keep it on display in case anyone walks in thinking I can't handle bigger jobs."

With a heavy thud, Bronzehorn plonked the huge, bronze, flattened-cylinder down in the center of the room in front of everypony. Almost on top of everypony, given how tall it was.

"I won't ask you to pick this one up; it might even weigh more than you do. Most dragons usually prefer something with more articulation in the chest, but this customer wanted to feel invincible even if they gave up some maneuverability, so I made him what he wanted. A better example is probably what your bodyguard is wearing, though."

He pointed straight at Artemis. "That's as standard a heavy armor setup as they come, Royal Guard or otherwise. It's not nearly as heavy as this, but it'll be completely impervious to slashing and chopping, and pretty resistant to thrusting and clubbing, too. It looks like it might impede movement, but again, if it's fitted well, it shouldn't interfere with motion at all. Your muscles will still know the difference if you march around in it all day, though, and even a good, long fight can tire you out faster than in medium armor. It also gets a lot sweatier inside, so it's very important to have a good arming doublet underneath to prevent chafing and overheating." Tipping the huge dragon-mail on its side - an act that seemed difficult even for a hulk his size - he rolled it back underneath the shelves, then dusted his hands off.

"Lastly, there's light stuff, like what she's wearing." He pointed at Ebonshield. "I've only seen a few of your nocturnal kind around, but I've done some pieces for them. That looks like mostly leather you're wearing, which may be better than nothing, but doesn't count for much in my book. You must be fast on your hooves -- and your wings."

At first looking somewhat shocked that the Minotaur had ever seen another batpony, Ebonshield eventually relaxed her expression and bowed her head, acknowledging the compliment.

Bronzehorn turned sideways to squeeze between Anonymous and Honour -- even though they were standing several hooves apart! -- to step behind his desk once more. With another loud whump, he plopped an enormous black forearm down on the table. "That's the basics of armor types. When it comes to duelling, my advice would be to go with the heaviest armor you're comfortable fighting in."

Their VIP spoke up. "Why the heaviest?"

Bronzehorn waved a finger in the air. "Because most formal duels don't go on long enough to really tire out the combatants. If it's a matter of pride, it's considered unsporting to win by exhausting your opponent. And if you show up with too much armor, you can always take some pieces off. So, get the heaviest you can handle - and afford."

Anonymous lifted an eyebrow. "And how much are we talking about, here?"

The huge horns bobbed up and down as Bronzehorn nodded his head. "I'm not going to tell you anyone can buy good armor. It's expensive." He nodded in Artemis’ direction. "The Royal Guard requires soldiers enlisting in the Armored Corps to serve for an additional three years, to make up the cost of providing armor. And that's not even custom-made stuff."

The Minotaur stood up tall and proud. "Bronze is, itself, expensive to make, but it's the labor and the knowledge that you're really paying for. We know how to smelt bronze just right for armor -- it's an old family recipe. And we know how to make metal get into the right shape with the right hardness and strength, and attach the right fittings so that you can fight at peak effectiveness. That's why I've got this gallery here; none of these pieces are for sale, because each of them has a story attached. Some were gifts from satisfied customers who retired: the ones where you can see pock-marks and gashes that didn't make it all the way through. Saved their lives, and let them win the fight. The rest are just to show off what we can do."

He crossed his arms imposingly in front of his chest, and huffed out through his big brown nostrils. "For a suit of custom-made, custom-fit heavy armor, you're looking at about a hundred thousand bits."

Featherhooves' eyeballs did that zoom-in/zoom-out thing again, and even Glamerspear looked a bit shocked. Ebonshield and Honour, however, seemed like they already knew this. And, to be honest, Artemis did too. Whenever she -- or anyone else -- screwed up during heavy armor exercises, Drill Sergeant Mareline Tandem never tired of shouting, 'You don't own that armor! Princess Celestia does! Your ego is writing checks that your plot can't cash!'

Still, the standard Royal Armory set had a replacement cost of twenty or thirty thousand bits at most. That's how much the Royal Guard would dock their pay if they were found to have wantonly abandoned their equipment. If Artemis remained at Specialist rank, she could just barely pay that off in thirty years. And they'd have to be frugal years earning active mission pay, not garrison half-pay. If she cracked her way into the officer corps, though, she could cut that time down to a tenth. So just how much was Anonymous' allowance from the Princesses?

"I'll have to clear it with the Chancellor of the Exchequer, but that's within my budget."

Glamerspear's eyes went even wider. She clearly didn't realize just how much trust the Princesses placed in Anonymous. Well, it was obvious Her Majesty Princess Luna trusted him, at least! Otherwise, Ebonshield wouldn't be there -- or, she would, but their unit wouldn't have known anything about her.

Bronzehorn nodded. "I can take a deposit now, say ten percent, if you'd like to get started with measurements and design tonight. You must be in a hurry if you came all the way here in that flying contraption outside."

The Royal Engineer reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a cheque book and quill case. "That's reasonable." As he scribbled, he looked up at the towering black monolith. "...Do you work only in bronze? What about steel?"

The Minotaur squinted. "What the Theseus is 'steel'?"

Just like the gentle, mushroom-picking Minotaur from Berry, Bronzehorn also swore using that race's equivalent of Tartarus -- or, rather, a fiendish creature said to dwell in their version of it.

Artemis’ VIP finished writing the cheque and held it out. "'Steel' is an iron alloy. It's extraordinarily strong."

Still squinting, the smith took the cheque and grabbed a ledger from beneath his desk, copying details down with a thick pencil. "Sounds magical. I don't do magic here, though I can recommend you some enchanters after the armor is done. But if you want a custom metal formulation, I do have a bloomery hot enough for iron work; I sometimes use iron for fittings. You'd have to be here to instruct us in the recipe, though."

Anonymous shook his head. "I can't teach you, I'm afraid. I know the general ingredients, but I don't have the exact ratios and procedures for the different kinds of steel. I used to just pick different ones out of a catalog when I needed them... Producing steel is going to be a top priority for my work very soon, and I've been hoping that maybe someone in Equestria has already stumbled on the formula. On my world, when easy sources of bronze ran out in ancient times, we managed to figure out primitive steels within a few centuries." He gave a wry smile. "Hopefully it doesn't take me that long."

Bronzehorn gave a single heavy chuckle. "Heh. No kidding."

Having finished writing up the order, he placed the cheque in the book and tore off a receipt, pushing the slip across the desk to their VIP. As Anonymous took it and put away his own writing-materials, the Minotaur stood up tall again, then reached over and pulled back the curtain.

"Alright, why don't you step into the back-room and we'll get you measured up before talking details." Leading the way, Bronzehorn put his hands up to his mouth and hollered ahead. "Hey, Brunnie! Got a customer needs measuring up, here!"

From deep in the bowels of the smithy, an immense contralto voice answered him. "I'll be right there, Guntie!"

As their little group passed into the back room, Featherhooves elbowed Artemis in the side-plate. "That's the other half of the amazing Bronzehorn Armory duo. You remember what I said about her, right?"

She did remember. And she gulped. The pegasus was still not quite over how enormous Gunther the Minotaur was. Just how much bigger was his 'Brunnie'?

Chapter 53

Artemis Sparkshower

Specialist Sparkshower felt tiny.

That was a pretty rare thing for her; for a pegasus, she was pretty big. Trowal, she was even big for an earth pony! And with her heavyweight sabots on, she was taller than most unicorns. Full plate armor, with its padding and straps, added another inch or two to her overall diameter, too. Fully cocooned in bronze, she generally felt pretty large in the company of anypony other than her fellow bronze-encased Armored Corps guardsponies.

But right now, she felt small.

Small... and kind of puny.

"Your little herd of attendants can wait back out in the front if you're not comfortable undressing in front of them."

Anonymous, Artemis’ Very Important Pony (who isn't actually a pony), and the only creature she saw on a regular basis who was larger than her, had just been asked to strip down to his skivvies by the towering Minotaur blacksmith, Gunther Bronzehorn. But the big black bull was sitting down at a drafting table, which made his size seem almost reasonable again.

"It doesn't bother me." Anonymous hung up his jacket on one of several hooks lining the blacksmith's wooden-walled fitting-room, and crouched down to undo his shoes. "Partial nudity doesn't seem like it's too big a deal around here -- but then again, you're all covered with fur... or feathers."

With a pair of reading glasses on and a pencil in his colossal fist, Gunther chuckled. "Heh. Just keep your underpants on." Those square-framed glasses really did something to soften the bulkiness of his frame.

No, Gunther was not the reason that Artemis felt tiny. It was the titanic creature silently holding a roll of measuring tape, her arms folded in front of her ample chest.

Anonymous kicked off his shoes, then stood up and undid his belt.

"Here, let me take that." It was the same contralto voice as before, and it filled the room with a resonant echo, even though she was speaking at an ordinary volume.

As Anonymous lifted his pants up off the ground, she stretched out an arm and took them from him, hanging them up in one swift motion, without even budging from her spot six hooves away.

"Thanks."

Artemis’ VIP coiled up his belt and placed it on a low bench underneath the hangars, then began to undo his tie.

The chocolate-brown behemoth smiled, and she reached up to casually brush one of her hanging copper locks back over her shoulder. Then she folded her arms again, resting them against her heavy brown metalworker's apron. As the material was pressed against her body, Artemis got another impression of the bulk of her physique. Her bust alone must weigh more than Artemis’ whole suit of metal armor.

But the frame that held it up was no less enormous.

Anonymous slipped one arm out of his shirt and pulled it off, leaving him in his socks, undershirt, and underpants.

A hoof larger than all four of Artemis’ put together took a single step forward. "The socks and top as well, please."

The Royal Engineer nodded, and lifted up one foot to yank his sock off.

A second massive hoof followed, and the mighty figure was now almost enveloping their half-naked VIP.

Artemis realized she’d been rudely staring at 'Brunnie' since she walked in the room, and forced herself to look away. Trying to divert her attention, she looked down the line of ponies standing in the room with her.

Somehow, they didn’t seem any smaller than her right then.

Sergeant Ebonshield had one eyebrow raised and was scrutinizing Anonymous closely, but she seemed to be contemplating something imaginary and moving -- perhaps thinking how he might move in a fight.

Corporal Bound and Specialist Glamerspear, however, seemed more ordinarily interested. He was always so well-dressed; this is the most naked they'd ever seen him.

Artemis caught Glamerspear deliberately looking away now and then, like she was ashamed to be watching. Since he hardly had anything covering his bare skin besides his clothes, she supposed it was a bit different than with a pony. As he pulled off his shirt, she could even see his nipples! They were certainly in a different place from a pony's. Though, if mares of his species were built like the colts, then that meant his race really was similar to Minotaurs in shape -- besides the legs.

Artemis’ eyes started to wander back to the elephantine creature dominating the room.

"Seriously? That's it? Just a bit of hair here and there?" Private First Class Featherhooves broke the silence of their VIP's undressing with a very forward comment.

All four members of Anonymous' bodyguard quaternion -- Artemis included -- turned to glare at the blabbermouth griffon. She seemed to realize what she’d just said -- not to mention about whom! -- and shrank back a bit into her armor.

But it was Anonymous himself who replied first, as he casually tossed his undershirt onto the bench. "Hah! I'm afraid so." Placing his hands on his hips, he stood up tall. "My people are built for sweating, and anything more than this would just get in the way."

Artemis knew that, of course -- she’d realized it at the end of the first day, after her VIP's first escorted 'jog.’ Glamerspear and Honour knew it, too, but for Ebonshield, that information had her turning something over in her mind.

Anonymous' response emboldened Featherhooves, and she poked her head back out of her gorget, twisting it sideways in confusion. "Sweating? I don't understand; you're built to shrivel up in a banya?"

She didn’t get it.

"The Great Lord and his people can effectively sweat to dispose of excess heat. They must be famous for their endurance."

Ebonshield, on the other hand, clearly did.

Corporal Bound nodded. "You didn't see Glamerspear walk in after His Lordship took her for a gallop in the rose garden."

The batpony sergeant raised an inquisitive eyebrow at the corporal.

But Honour just turned and addressed the Royal Engineer. "Frankly, sir, at times you've come close to wearing me out, too."

From behind the drawing-board, Gunther Bronzehorn emitted a deep chuckle. "Sounds like you'll have no trouble with heavy armor, then. But let's get your measurements first."

Nodding at his partner, he adjusted his eyeglasses and readied his pencil. 'Brunnie' took another half-step forward, and Gunther continued. "I suppose I should introduce you two. Anonymous, this is Brunhilde Bronzehorn, my wife. Brunhilde, this is Anonymous, the Royal Engineer of Equestria."

As she stood directly behind Artemis’ nearly-naked VIP, towering vertically over him and seeming to envelop him horizontally, the pegasus couldn’t avoid looking at the minotaur any more. Brunhilde Bronzehorn was, save for the great dragons and a few other mythological creatures, the biggest creature to walk Equestria's green earth. At least as far as Artemis knew. She opened her arms wide, unrolling the measuring-tape. Turning his head around, Anonymous nodded at her with a smile, and she nodded back. Apparently familiar with the procedure, her VIP turned himself back around and stretched out his arms, heedless to the fact that if she but swung her arms back together, she could squish his head like an overripe banana.

Thundershowers, she could probably do it with her bare hands!

Actually, never mind her hands, her bust alone could squash him like a bug! How many calves did Minotaurs have in a single litter, anyways? How much could each one possibly need to drink each day? Brunhilde looked like she could supply a whole regiment's daily allowance of milk without deflating even an inch. And her belly -- massive, but apparently fairly firm -- looked like it could hold that same regiment's daily rations while still having room for more.

As she bent over to measure his upper chest, part of her weighty bosom -- barely contained behind the leather apron -- wound up resting on top of their VIP's head. She called out the number to her partner, who duly scribbled it down, then the hulking heifer stood up straight and wound the measuring strap around his arm. Anonymous' hair was visibly flattened from where half of one of her breasts was pressing into him.

"He's not very big. I thought you said it was a particularly large customer coming tonight, Guntie?"

Gunther looks up from his scribbling. "No, that's on Sunday -- the new diamond dog sergeant in the Princess-Cadenza's."

"Ah, of course." The stupefyingly large bipedal cow, having taken Anonymous's arm measurements, crouched down to do his waist and legs. It was as if the great presence in the room had been shrunk back to normal size -- if only temporarily.

On Artemis left, Glamerspear muttered aloud. "Never thought I'd hear somepony say the Royal Engineer wasn't big."

Brunhilde glanced up from her work. "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean anything by that..."

She wrapped one colossal arm around their VIP's torso, passing the measuring tape around his back, her snout just in front of his crotch. Hurricanes, her horns stretched out the whole breadth of his arms!

"... It's just that Minotaurs like me need to be careful around other creatures. One wrong move, and it could be extremely painful..."

After calling out the measure, she looked up at Artemis’ VIP from her hunched-over position. "... You're a small guy, after all."

Anonymous didn’t even glance down as he deadpanned his reply. "For you."

There was an amused snort from behind the drawing-desk. Brunhilde leaned over past Anonymous to glance at her chortling husband, a look of bemused disapproval on her brown face. Suppressing his grin, the bulging black minotaur nonchalantly wiped his snout.

"Sorry. Carry on."

With a huff and a shake of her head -- that nearly resulted in her horns knocking into Anonymous' thighs, she finished measuring his legs and feet. Then she hoisted herself back up -- and Artemis felt absolutely minuscule again. It was a wonder she didn't just hang the measuring tape on the wall, then pick up her VIP and hold him against it instead.

Then a thought really hit her in the head. As the wife of a smith, Brunhilde Bronzehorn must surely have a set of armor of her own, mustn't she?

Just how big would she be in it?

And how strong could it be?

Would she be able to simply bowl her way through buildings of brick and stone?

Could even thick city walls stop such an armored behemoth?

As Artemis pondered those questions of enormity, Brunhilde rolled the measuring tape up and stepped over to put it down on the desk.

Then Gunther got to his hooves, blowing a quick air-kiss at his whopper of a wife. "Thanks, sweetie. You can get dressed again, m'Lord. I've got the numbers I need to get to work. The question is, what am I making for you?"

In the middle of buttoning up his shirt, Anonymous looked up.

"It seems like the recommendation is 'heavy armor,' so let's go with that."

Gunther nodded. "All right. There are a few different styles to choose from, though before we do that, perhaps you'd also like to tell me what weapons you want?"

Standing there with his legs bare but his chest covered, their VIP rubbed his hands against his flanks. "That's a good question. Among my people, the most iconic weapon for single combat is the sword -- good for cutting, thrusting, and even bludgeoning, when striking with the pommel. But bronze, I believe, isn't well suited for longer, two-handed blades. And it seems like the most common weapon amongst ponies -- besides hooves -- is the spear."

He pointed at Artemis and Honour. "Specialist Sparkshower carries a long pike, and Corporal Bound has a pair of snap-together javelins. Even Specialist Glamerspear throws out telekinetic spears. So there's a lot of ranged and long-reach attacks on offer."

The Royal Engineer turned to face the five soldiers in the room. "I'm getting this equipment and learning to fight so I can defend myself, but let's be honest: I'm not looking to become a champion warrior. I need to be able to hold my own in a duel, but it should be a deterrence and a last resort. So I think a defensive focus is in order, and maybe a more conservative weapons loadout."

Gunther narrowed his eyes and nodded.

Against the side wall, Artemis even saw Brunhilde imposingly fold her arms as well.

"I think I want a shield -- a fairly large one, sturdy and strong, so I can bash with it if needed. A spear goes well with a shield, but I don't have the mobility of a pegasus; I can't charge through the air as they can, and standing alone I can't cover every angle of their attack. It's a disadvantage that might make the spear useless."

Just how much had Artemis’ VIP thought about this problem? Then again, he’s the Royal Engineer. Thinking about problems is his job. And he had already seen two pony-on-pony fights close up.

"A sword would be easier to work with, but what if I'm faced with a foe in heavy armor? I'll be forced to get in close to stab, easily out-ranged by their spear. It would be better if I had something long-handled I could swing from behind the safety of the shield."

Anonymous clenched his left hand into a fist, and held it close in front of his chest, just as if he was gripping a shield. Then he balled up the other hand and made a sweeping overhead chopping motion with it.

"Flails have range, but carry the risk of self-injury. So I think it's got to be a straight-shafted weapon: a mace, pick, or a war hammer."

Still pantsless, the Royal Engineer held his mock fighting position, arm still outstretched as if in full swing, and looked around for a response.

Before anypony could say anything for or against his proposal, from the side of the room, Brunhilde stepped forward and reached out to grab their VIP's arm.

"He's got long limbs, Guntie. And there's good muscle on them, too."

Letting go, she nodded at her husband. "Make him a good, heavy mace, like the kind our ancestors used. No spikes, so it doesn't get stuck in an opponent. He won't have any trouble bashing through armor, anyways."

Gunther scribbled on a notepad. "Yeah, I like that idea. I've got just the piece of wood for the shaft, too: Wyrm's Rosewood, from the Dragon Isle. Maybe use it for the base of the shield as well, if it doesn't come out too heavy. And I'm picturing the armor already -- we go classic Minotaur-style, heavy pieces but with simpler joints. Bronze-plated leather strips for the waist; same thing at the shoulders. It'll give you the maneuverability to dodge around and make good use of the shield."

After jotting down his notes, the smith looked up and tapped on his paper. "Was there anything else? Because I think I've got a good idea right here."

Anonymous shrugged amiably. "I'll defer to your experience. If it sounds good to you, it sounds good to me."

Gunther smiled. "Alright. I'll send you a messenger when I've got a first draft done. My schedule's clear until that diamond dog sergeant shows up for his measurement, so I should have something for you this week."

Artemis’ VIP grabbed his pants off the hook and began to slip them on. "Oh, excellent! I'm looking forward to it."

With a nod, the black Minotaur headed out of the fitting room, proceeding deeper into his smithy. "If you'll excuse me, I don't like to waste time when I'm feeling motivated. Brunnie, see them out, won't you?"

His enormous wife nodded. "Of course, dear. And I'll get the forge warmed up. How many bars will you need?"

"Bring up six to start on his cuirass."

As the Royal Engineer continued to dress himself, Corporal Bound cleared her throat. "Well, sir, it seems like we're done here. All that's left is to head home."

That gave him pause.

And Glamerspear, too.

Halfway through slipping on one of his socks, Anonymous looked over at everyone, his face pale. "Maybe we should see if those Pegasi can pull us along on the ground for the trip home."

‘Was the ride over here really so bad?’

"Sounds like a good plan to me, sir."

Apparently the corporal thought so.

"I'd be on board for that."

And so did Glamerspear.

Wow.

... Just how in Equestria did Princess Celestia always make it look so cozy and elegant, then?

Chapter 54

Lily Glamerspear

‘This still sucks!’

‘Still!’

Venting her displeasure on the door, Lily Glamerspear kicked it closed with one hind hoof as she trotted into the commons area of their shared room. Sitting at the card table, Corporal Bound looked up from the Royal Engineer's book, glancing at Lily’s horn.

"Still spellbound?"

The unicorn reared back and threw her forehooves up in the air in frustration. "Still spellbound! Grrrr!"

Getting back on all fours, she trundled over to the sofa and flung herself onto it. "'Your mana levels are still elevated,' they tell me. PUH!"

Lying on her back, she angrily cycled her forehooves in the air as if punching an invisible speedbag. "'Better play it safe for one more day'. Bwetuh-pwuh-uht-swafe-fuh-uwh-muh-duhHHhhh!" Pursing her lips and wobbling her head against the sofa cushion while still batting in the air, Lily melodically mocked the medbay maniatrician's message.

After getting it out of her system a bit, she turned her head to see if the corporal was still paying attention to her. She was, with her usual 'I'm-not-interested-but-I'm-listening-anyways' look.

Lily stared at Honour wide-eyed, nodding her head. "I'm going nuts, Corporal! It feels like I've been chained up for, like, four whole months!"

The Corporal rolled her eyes at Lily and started to get back into her book. "It's been a week, Glamerspear. Not even that -- it's only Saturday morning, and they clamped you on Tuesday afternoon. That's just four days."

Flipping over onto her belly, Lily clambered up onto the armrest, shaking her forehooves in supplication. "Four days might as well be four months! I'm a unicorn gunner, Corporal! I live to blast things out of the sky! I can't survive like this -- on medical leave, spellbound and collared, forced to just sit around all day long, my withers withering and my plot thickening from sheer idleness."

Corporal Bound shook her head and rolled her eyes again. "Don't be so melodramatic. It's not like being a VIP bodyguard involves a lot of physical activity."

How could she say that, what with her scheming ex-coltfriend out on the loose!

Lily pointed an accusing hoof in Bound’s direction. "Yeah? It was a week ago today we were duelling the First Canterlot Air Superiority Wing. I bet you've still got the bruises."

Honour Bound picked up her book and tried to get back to reading about pipes and steam and steel and whatever. "That was an exception, Glamerspear, and you know it. I don't know why you're getting so worked up about everything." Pausing, she looked up again. "...You know we're only ten days into this assignment?"

Lily piped up loudly. "Yeah! And I've been on medical leave for half of it! I'm tired of this crap!" Squinting, she reached up for her horn. "I swear, I have half a mind to just rip this stupid thing off myself, just so I can let fly a few rounds."

That failed to get Bound’s attention, so she continued on. "Or so that I can be ready to save our VIP from Celestia's fearsome flying carriage of doom when we head back out to Newcastle-upon-Mare for his suit of armor next week!"

This time, Honour did look up -- though, not at Lily. Staring wide-eyed off into the distance, Honour swallowed, and Lily swore she could see a shiver run down her spine.

"That... would be nice."

Two rides in that damned carriage! Two rides too many! And that damned Pegasus team leader! 'Oh, the wheels aren't really made to bear the weight on the ground, sorry, it's really a flying carriage only.'

‘BUCK YOU, BUDDY!’

The bucking carriage wasn't made to bear the weight of anypony who didn't have wings themselves, more like! If the Royal Engineer intended to take that flying deathtrap again, Lily had definitely better brush up on her emergency levitation spells.

Or bring a parachute.

As Lily and her Corporal both silently contemplated another ride in that horrifying contraption, there was a knock at the door. Funnily enough, rather than forcing Lily, the subordinate, to answer the door, Honour got up and went towards it herself. Maybe it was a good way to clear her mind of the terrifying imagery. Lily would definitely rather be continuing her hissy fit about the spellbinders than thinking about the flying carriage, that's for sure.

As Lily laid on the sofa, staring at the wall, forelegs on the armrest and hind legs stretched out on the cushions, she heard the door shut before Corporal Bound trotted by, flipping a small piece of paper down on the coffee table.

"Calling card for you."

‘Huh?’

Lily reached over and picked up the thick slip, reading the message against the elegant floral background. "Oh, buck me! Damn that colt!" Turning over the card to make sure it wasn’t a joke, she flipped around to seat herself properly on the sofa once more.

Honour picked up her book and looked ready to dig in, but she nodded wearily in Lily’s direction. "What is it?"

She put the card down beside her, shaking her head. "It's Captain Mailedhoof. He 'requests the pleasure of my company at dinner tonight' -- in the Officers' Mess." Sighing, Lily slumped her shoulders.

Honour just scoffed. "On a Saturday? Doesn't he have a family?"

Lily turned to look up at the Corporal. "Yeah, but he sends them to his parents' country estate on weekends -- especially in the spring, when Celestia runs weekend court, and in the summer, when the city gets too hot, and in the fall, when I don't remember what excuse he uses." She smirked. "And since he's in charge of the court guard detail, he has to stay. Nice arrangement for a philandering salt-lick. I bet he volunteered for the duty."

Honour shrugged. "What's the problem with the invitation, then? Isn't it what you wanted?"

The unicorn gestured up at her horn. "Yeah, but not like this!" Slumping back down, she slouched in her seat. "... I'll be the laughingstock of the place if I trot in with this E-collar and set of shackles."

As Lily tried to scheme a way out of this -- preferably, out of the shackles and into the Officers' Mess -- Honour looked her up and down.

"It doesn't sound like a problem to me."

‘Is this mare serious?’

This boring brown mare, with her snout stuck in a book, her hair up in a braid, and no coltfriend to speak of -- she was trying to give her social & fashion advice?

Lily scrunched up her face and ripped into her situation. "What! I've got a freaking cone on my horn, Corporal! And it's a room full of officers -- lieutenants, captains, majors, colonels, generals... And their high-society wives and marefriends -- and saltines -- too! I don't know what your idea of fashionable is, but medical accessories are definitely not 'the new black' this spring!"

Honour let her finish her rant and waited for Lily to catch her breath before answering.

"You're looking at it all wrong, Glamerspear. It's not a medical accessory; it's a war wound, and you're a decorated, battle-scarred warrior walking into the Officers' Mess after her latest conquest." She shrugged her eyebrows and softened her expression, turning back to her book. "If you ask me, that sounds pretty good for impressing a crowd of do-nothing noblepony officers. They love to hear from Equestria's 'valiant fighting ponies.' And doubly so when your 'latest conquest' happens to be somepony whose squadron just caused a public incident and embarrassed the landed gentry of Equestria."

The implications of Honour’s proposal dawned on Lily, and her eyebrows slowly raised as her frown turned into a smile.

"Oh. My. Celestia..."

Grinning from cheek to cheek, she looked admiringly up at her level-headed corporal. "... That is freaking genius! They'll be all over me for stories about the fight with Kilfeather! And Mailedhoof hasn't seen me wear my Silver Ram yet, either! I'll be the star of the evening!"

Seductively shrugging one shoulder, Lily made kissy lips at the Corporal. "... And that's what the colts like in a saltine, you know -- a mare who makes them look good."

Smiling, she lowered her forehooves back down. "... How did you figure this out?"

Honour looked disinterestedly down at the specialist from her perch at the card-table. "You have to be able to improvise these sorts of things as a leader, you know." With a brief hint of a smirk, she got back to her book. "Anyways, when you've been around VIPs for as long as I have, you start to know how they tick. They love common-born military heroes who enforce the social order."

Nodding enthusiastically, Lily jumped up onto her hind hooves, then pounded one forehoof into the other. "I've got just enough time to run a few laps around Canterlot Mountain to burn off all this baggage I'm carrying, before I have to get myself ready for an evening with the captain!"

Honour whinnied through her lips. "Hunrhnft. Honestly, run if you want to, but I don't think you've put on any weight. How much could you have possibly gained in just four days?"

Lily got back down on all fours. "But I always wore my croupiere-belt at the second notch, damn it! Not the third!"

Honour just shrugged and shook her head. "Your butt looks the same to me, Specialist. Maybe you were always closer to the third; did you ever have somepony help fit it on you?"

Lily shook her head. "No, we all just figured it out ourselves, with some basic instructions from the sergeant."

Honour nodded. "Yeah, exactly -- same as everypony else. But Gunther Bronzehorn looks like he really knows his stuff. If he says you should have your straps one way, I think you should listen to him. I might even ask him myself for advice next time we're out there."

Lily nodded back. It was a fair point. Taking a deep breath, she looked towards the door. "I suppose so. I think I'll still go out for a jog, though. I could use the exercise."

The Corporal gathered up her book, looking almost enthusiastic at the prospect of being left alone with her reading material. "Alright, see you around."

As Lily headed back out into the hallway, well-lit from the skylights above, she was starting to feel like maybe things didn’t suck quite so much. At least, not when she had a clever-horse squad leader like the Corporal watching her back!

Artemis Sparkshower

Specialist Artemis Sparkshower had a lot of things on her mind right now. Foremost among them was the letter to her sweet Huckleberry Pudding.

‘He must have received it by now!’

With Glamerspear's advice on Thursday morning, she had managed to finish it and send it off that afternoon. And mail from Berry usually only took two days to get to Canterlot, from what she saw of the postmarks. That meant her Puddin' could be reading it right now.

Artemis tried to mentally broadcast waves of positive thoughts.

'Write back saying that of course you'll come!'

It hadn't worked the last few times she’d tried that sort of thing, but it couldn't hurt, right? Huckleberry could be a stubborn pony; the kind you could give a ticket to the country's biggest and grandest and most important party, and still have them say they don't want to come. Not that she’d have him any other way, but the anxiety was really frustrating!

And it was all supposed to have been so easy. Huckleberry, hard worker and tight-lipped as he was, would never knowingly complain about his job, but Artemis knew he was getting a little tired of working as a farmhand on the Shortcakes' plantation. He was a plain colt with few worldly wants, but he couldn't go his whole life just picking strawberries in someone else's yard. Since buying his own farm was a ways off, well, Artemis had said maybe he should try to get a job somewhere else. When the opportunity to interview for the VIP service had come up, she’d brought him along for a trip to the Canterlot employment office. And the colt at bureau had said there were plenty of opportunities for a pony of his size and strength.

Coachpony pulling passenger carriages, or luggage-porter drawing freight cart. Construction worker building Canterlot's fine structures, or navy laborer laying and maintaining the county's waterways, roadways, and railways. Street-sweeper keeping the roads clean of dust.

They weren’t glamorous positions, sure, but it was easy work to get into and out of, and if he didn't like it, the Shortcakes had promised to hire him right back if it didn't work out after a few months. Heck, they'd said even if he did like it, they'd be glad to have him back in the late spring for when the harvest work was heaviest and they needed the extra hooves. Everything had been all set when she’d transferred to Canterlot in the winter for her training; Huckleberry was to follow along and try his luck at the professions on offer.

By the time her training was done and her first assignment was about to begin, he'd have had four months already to get the feel for Canterlot. If he'd felt it wasn't going to work, then Artemis would try to back out of VIP service -- it was a volunteer position, after all -- or just serve a single three-month term before transferring back to her old unit, the 23rd Air Wing, based out of Fort Fickle in Berry.

But no.

The month had come and gone while she was in VIP training and then another three on half-pay waiting for assignment. And even though she’d found him a potential apartment -- very modestly priced, but in a nice neighbourhood and with a friendly landlady! -- he'd stayed in Berry.

In winter, with nothing to do on a strawberry patch covered in snow.

‘Grr!’

Artemis tried not to get angry at her Puddin', but he could be berry, berry frustrating!

...Very very frustrating, rather.

But everything could still work out, if he'd just come for the Gala. She’d saved up enough for him to spend a week in a small hotel afterwards. If he just gave Canterlot a try, Artemis was sure he would like it! She just had to get him back there, first. Then, after that, maybe they could get a place together. It wouldn't matter if it was far from the palace -- she didn't mind flying a long commute. And if she got tired of VIP service, they'd always be happy to have her at one of the city or palace garrisons.

One of the perks of being a 'rarity' -- a 19D Armored Scout who was a pegasus, rather than an earth pony -- was that every single armored division wanted to get their hooves on her. So, even though there weren't a lot of them compared to the regular infantry divisions, she still got her pick. Like the Royal Hussars, based in Canterlot. Or even the elite Household Cavalry Regiment.

And, apparently, Artemis’ proficiency with Griffonese had earned her an opportunity just outside Canterlot, in the Princess Mi Amore Cadenza's Regiment of Auxiliaries. That would be a bit far for a Canterlot commute, and Newcastle-upon-Mare was such a tiny place, but with an officer's salary she could easily support both herself and her Puddin', no matter what he found himself able to do.

Definitely something to think about.

And to talk about with Huckleberry in her next letter.

‘Oh, thundershowers!’ There she was, thinking five flaps into the future when she’d had enough on her back for the first flap, let alone the next four. Artemis had other concerns, too, but these seemed almost trivial in comparison.

One was a general apprehension about this 'training' that Ebonshield wanted to conduct with the Royal Engineer. She hadn't said much about it -- not that she'd had the opportunity, really, since things had been so busy, but she could have made the opportunity if she'd wanted to.

What exactly was it going to entail? Did she need to get some extra equipment herself? Like a training lance, maybe, with a dulled tip and softer wooden shaft? She certainly didn't want to conduct a live-action exercise with her own VIP! What would happen if she injured him!

Nothing good, that's for sure.

She was also worried about her comrade Glamerspear. At breakfast that morning, she'd made it clear she was starting to get a bit stir-crazy about those shackles on her horn. She didn't manage to get them off today -- Honour had told her as much when she’d gone up for lunch.

Lily herself was still out, though nopony seemed to know where. Running a lap around the mountain wouldn't have taken that long, and when she’d stopped by the sentry post on her way to the mess hall, it turned out that she'd never actually checked out of the palace grounds. Corporal Bound had told her about the big date she had with Captain Mailedhoof tonight; maybe she was preparing for it?

Well, wherever she was, Artemis hoped it was all going to work out in the end. She had enough to worry about with her coltfriend; she didn't need to be worrying about her new marefriend as well.

And then there was this Lieutenant Kilfeather! Honour and Glam had told her all about him last night, about how he had all but threatened the Royal Engineer -- HER Royal Engineer! -- with another personal combat challenge!

Ebonshield and Honour had deliberately kept her upstairs during the meeting, according to them to 'protect her.’ It was a good thing they had, because from the sounds of it, she would have joined in with Glamerspear in kicking that jerk's butt! Some ponies just needed a good swift boot to the buttocks, that's all!

So with all these different troubles on her mind, what was one more?

Except it wasn't a trouble, really. It was just curiosity.

Anonymous, By Appointment to Their Majesties Princess Celestia and Princess Luna, Royal Engineer, had been working for two and a half days with the bits and pieces of metal on his workbenches. On Thursday it hadn't looked like much at all. On Friday, Artemis only got a brief glimpse of things before heading out to the Bronzehorn smithy, and her VIP's end goal was still completely inscrutable. But today, things were starting to come together.

He'd been occupied all morning with affixing a number of seemingly independent pieces to a single black wooden base. Brass cylinders, iron and brass wheels, rods, gears, and chains...

And lots of copper tubes of all shapes and lengths, some of them dressed up to resemble a disc plow, with dozens of tiny circles of copper surrounding the pipe.

What could it all mean?

Her VIP had gotten it all put together before lunch, and was now busy tweaking the components according to whatever strange plan he was following. He must have been close to being done, because he'd filled several of the cylinders with different fluids. Water, for one, and what looked like a few different kinds of oils. Except he wasn't building Equestria's most advanced perfume applicator, because they weren't fragrant oils, but rather cooking and heating oils. They were smelly, and not in a good way.

And they were messy, too -- his apron was now smeared with oil stains and grease. Wisely, he'd had a number of canvas drop-clothes brought in that morning to cover the floor around his working area. It was so considerate of him to be concerned about spilling oil all over Their Majesties' palace carpets!

But just what was he building?

"I think that's it. How about that!" Looking very pleased with himself, Artemis’ VIP took a step back to admire his creation.

"... I think it's ready for a test drive. What do you think, Specialist?" He turned to her, as if she had any idea what was going on.

"Er... What is it, sir?"

Still smiling, her VIP held up a single finger, waggling it in the air. "A piece of the future, Specialist Sparkshower! With this little machine, I will reveal a tiny glimpse of what science & industry can do to change Equestria!"

Lowering his hands to wipe them on his apron, he strode enthusiastically over to the patio door.

"Step on up to the table; I'll just open up the door for some fresh air, first."

As he did so, she stepped forwards and got a closer look at his creation. There was a single, very large brass cylinder, thin-walled and fairly light -- that was the one he filled with water. From what she could tell, it fed water into another cylinder that had some strange things happening to it. There were lots of pipes and things going into and out of that one. Including one copper conduit to another cylinder that Artemis knew was filled with the smelly heating oil. Besides that, the bundle of rods and gears seemed more to be assembled next to the water-and-oil assembly than a part of it. It still didn’t make any sense, but the Royal Engineer certainly seemed enthusiastic, so it must be interesting.

Maybe it all had something to do with the big gear wheel attached to a shaft with the rods? That was certainly the largest single piece, besides the water tank.

"All right, ready for this?" Anonymous stepped up behind her and pulled a matchbox out of his pocket.

"Yes, sir!" His excitement was infectious, and Artemis really was starting to feel like something big was about to happen.

Twisting open a valve and opening a small cover in the contraption, he struck a match and stuck it in. Artemis could hear the tiniest 'whoosh' as if she’d just lit a large oil lamp, and Anonymous threw the match in and closed the cover.

"Now, we just wait for the water to boil -- it should only take a minute or two."

‘So it was some kind of kettle? What’s wrong with an ordinary copper one over a fire?’

She kept her questions to herself, lest she appear foalish. Anyways, she was going to find out what it did soon enough. Seconds ticked by on her VIP's elegant lighthouse clock in the middle of the room.

Smoke began to come out of the complicated cylinder; it was a good thing the outside door was open. Anonymous occasionally put his hand up to the large cylinder, feeling it for heat. After a minute, it was so hot he couldn't touch it any more, and he stopped checking it, instead donning some heavy leather gauntlets.

Then she saw steam start to come out of one of the other cylinders. It was surprising to see it coming out all the way down there, when she knew that the 'kettle' cylinder was a full hoof-and-a-half away on the other side of the board.

"... There's the steam. Any minute now..."

There was a soft 'pffsht' noise, and then another 'pffsht', and then another...

‘Things are moving!’

The two big rods started to push and pull against the big gear wheel, each time emitting a soft 'pffsht' and sure enough, it moved along with them.

Artemis could scarcely believe her eyes. Pointing with her hoof, she stared at the wondrous contraption as the gear wheel spinned faster and faster. "Boiled water is doing this, sir? Moving that wheel?"

Anonymous folded his arms across his chest. "Yes it is, Specialist! It's a two-cylinder steam engine, just like the one I built from a model kit when I was a teenager. A bit bigger, perhaps, but then I've got bigger plans for this one than simply looking 'cool' on my bookshelf."

The wheel was really spinning at a furious rate, and Anonymous reached over to tighten a valve. Almost instantly, things slowed down a bit. "Now that it's assembled, it's time to put it to work. Would you bring over that wagon, Specialist?" He pointed at a four-wheeled delivery cart, standing upright in the corner.

It didn’t escape her notice that the cart was just big enough to hold his 'steam engine'.

"Yes, sir. Where are we taking it, sir?"

As Artemis pulled the cart over to his workbench, Anonymous was busy closing valves and shutting his machine down. "To the garage. I finally received my special order from the Robinsfoal company of Mount Street last night."

Robinsfoal, Artemis knew, was a coach building company based in Canterlot. They’d even made the Royal flying carriage that her VIP had ridden in last night!

Hoisting up the wooden board with both hands, Anonymous squatted down and lowered it onto the cart with a grunt. Then he smiled and winked at her as he grabbed a toolbox. "This weekend, I'm going to try to build an automobile."

‘An 'automobile'? What in Equestria was that?’

Then again, Artemis supposed it probably wasn't in Equestria.

Not yet, at least.

Suggested interlude music: Marko Polo - 'Speedy Speed Boy'
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xlpByUfVGHY

Chapter 55 Author's Note

Heads up: This chapter features clop.

Chapter 55

Lily Glamerspear

It had been quite a night for Specialist Lily Glamerspear. Captain Mailedhoof watched her intently as she walked past him, holding the door open to his quarters.

"Mmm, and they say mares don't look good in uniform."

Pausing for just a moment, Lily turned and brushed her styled mane out of her face. "They say that, do they, Captain? Who's 'they'?"

The Captain grinned underneath his moustache. "Bucks without any brains, I should think."

Still smiling, he shut the door. "Now, what will you have to drink? Same as earlier?"

Lily shook her head, her silky bangs brushing against her brow. "No, it's too late for another cocktail. I'd like something simpler."

Mailedhoof stepped in close to the unicorn; close enough that their smells started to mingle together. The single-malt Baltimare whiskey on his breath, and the Griffonese vodka on hers. His natural musk, and her Pommel No. 5. The hot sweat radiating out from under his undone collar and loosened tie, and the half-drunk perspiration collecting at her flanks.

The Captain leaned in, his breath warm against the nape of her neck. "I've got a bottle of Bordelaisian red that I've been saving for a warm spring evening..."

More alcohol was probably not the best idea right now, but at least it was just wine. And if he was being honest about it being special, then it was probably one worth bragging about. Mailedhoof came from old, big money, and had a reputation for throwing it around.

"Alright." Withdrawing slightly, Lily turned to be able to face him. "I'll freshen up while you let it breathe."

Mailedhoof's nostrils flared as he took a deep breath. "Mmm, certainly. But don't be too long... " He took another step forward to make up for Lily’s withdrawal. "... Robust older vintages spoil if they're left out."

Mailedhoof was coming on hard and heavy, but she could hardly complain, given how she’d led him on. Lily made sure to give him a playful flutter of her bob hairdo as she smiled and brushed away from him towards the washroom. Stepping into the lavatory, she shut the door and stuck her forehooves on the sink, examining herself in the mirror.

Not bad, for an evening spent trying to elegantly carouse in the Officers' Mess.

Lily’s makeup was still holding together, for the most part. Her mane and tail could use a quick brush, but it was nothing to worry about. She’d probably be making a mess of both in short order anyways. But it was the state of her clothes that interested her the most.

Lily was wearing her Service Dress Uniform, something that rarely got pulled out of her considerable closet, and never before for a 'date-night' like this -- not when she had so many other options. Even for the parties in one of the mess halls, the Guard’s dress code allowed civilian attire of sufficiently formal appearance, and the unicorn had plenty of outfits that fit the bill.

Tonight, though, she’d worn everything but the dress pants and matching spats. Made of black-dyed wool, her dress jacket had a red collar trimmed in gold. She was wearing the black, bear fur hat as well, still in excellent condition and playfully tilted slightly to the side, with its red 'bag' of ornamental fabric hanging down one side and its short double hackle of gold-dyed hair at the top to match the trim.

Most striking, however, was the arrangement of yellow worsted yarn on her chest. Twelve stripes, stretching from shoulder to shoulder at the top and narrowing to half that at the waist, surrounded the twelve great brass 'acorn' buttons stamped with the Royal Artillery crest of crossed cannons capped by the Celestial Tiara. Her shoulders and cuffs were similarly trimmed with elaborate and artistic braiding. As Guard uniforms went, those of the Royal Artillery were pretty stand-out, even for a specialist such as herself.

Officers got stripes and braids made of gold gimp cord instead of yellow worsted yarn, for an even more striking effect. It was enough in Lily’s case to have the yellow-and-black as a bold contrast to her Prench-pink coat and teal-and-cyan mane. It didn’t hurt that the cut of the jacket broadened her shoulders while slimming her flanks; always a useful feature.

But tonight, the big show was the medal on her neck. Suspended on a white-and-blue striped ribbon, the silver, ancient-style helmet with the two ram's horns hung prominently against the dark fabric covering her breast. It had garnered enough attention during the evening to more than distract from the shackles on her horn, which remained, in Lily’s opinion, still unsightly even after she’d dressed them up in black ribbon.

Everypony in the 'O Club' had been interested in the pretty young Centurion of the Order of the Ram from the Royal Horse Artillery. And, once he’d heard her tell the story once or twice, the silver-maned Captain Mailedhoof was more than happy to recite the tale on her behalf, the better to show off his 'guest'. It was fairly obvious from the other officers' reactions that he'd been through this song-and-dance before, but there was some genuine admiration and appreciation for her accomplishments during the Invasion.

Later, in smaller company, talk did eventually turn to her spellbinders -- she’d left the E-collar at home, given it being 'optional' after all. With the right crowd of noblepony officers sitting around the table, she’d earned just as much acclaim for what transpired during the war as for what she’d done to Kilfeather, who was variously addressed as 'that villainous rapscallion', 'that churlish upstart', and 'that tactless knave'.

More than a few of them had heard first-hoof accounts of what was now being called the Massacre of Oldstirrup Bridge; they were all pleased to hear that the Lieutenant had paid handsomely for it beforehoof at the Battle of Newstirrup Bridge.

Running a little water in the sink, Lily leaned forward and pawed at where some of her makeup was starting to run in an unsightly manner. In a few moments, it was tidy again, though her natural features were coming through. Nothing to worry about in the dim lighting now. She pulled back again and looked herself over.

All in all, she’d put on a good show tonight.

The Captain had shown himself to be nothing but pleased at the attention she’d brought him. That was part of the implied saltine 'contract,’ after all. True salt-licks like Mailedhoof weren't just after sex; they wanted a mare (or a colt) who looked good by their side, as well. A partner who flattered them, and brought them the social attention they wanted. What was the relationship other than a sophisticated display of power? 'Look at how rich and wealthy and successful I am, that I can afford to surround myself with such beautiful ponies.'

And her own angle?

Well, she had a few. With the Gala coming up and a ticket metaphorically in her pocket, Lily had her eyes on a new dress…

Being presented at the Officers' Club was a step towards her next salt-lick, too. But, as she had told Sparkshower, it wasn't just about long-term plans or material gains.

Lily liked the attention.

Lily liked the glamour.

And, as thrilling as it had been to utterly obliterate the wings of her sick and twisted pegasus ex-coltfriend...

She took a deep breath and sized herself up in the mirror.

... She hadn't had a good buck in weeks, now.

And Captain Mailedhoof did have a reputation.

Smacking and puckering her lips to evenly redistribute her lipstick, she turned off the sink and readied herself for the inevitable finale to the evening's activities. No doubt there would still be some small talk in the sitting room first.

Lily opened the door and departed the washroom.

The Captain's quarters in the military barracks were spacious for a single unit. And it appeared that he'd furnished them himself, with an elegant sofa, fine dining table, and an impressively large buffet server which he kept fully stocked with alcohol.

Of course, he had a private residence in Canterlot as well; a nice townhouse with enough space for his whole family. This was just his simple Guard-supplied quarters, for when he was working 'late night' shifts.

And from the looks of things, he'd turned it into his personal love-nest.

Over on the sofa, Lily’s silver-maned colt of the hour turned and looked appreciatively in her direction. "Your glass awaits, my dear. A 'Clos du Marquis' 996, an exceptional year." Holding his own glass up high in one hoof, he swirled it around.

Lily trotted delicately forward. Mailedhoof was the kind of colt who liked his mares demure on the surface. The kind who liked to feel a bit of the thrill of the hunt, even in an affair that was bought and paid for.

"It sounds lovely, Captain."

"And you deserve it, after the delightful company you gave and stories you shared with everypony tonight. Did you enjoy yourself?"

Lily took the glass in one hoof and sat down at the other end of the sofa, which was just wide enough to not quite be called a love-seat. Perfectly sized to allow two ponies to sit far enough apart to begin the night with the appearance of civility, while keeping them close enough to facilitate debauchery.

"Yes, very much so. I hope I'll have the opportunity to visit again, sometime."

Mailedhoof twisted slightly in his seat and leaned over in her direction, a coy grin on his muzzle. "Mmm. That can be arranged."

He raised his glass in a toast, and Lily matched him, taking a drink. The Prench claret was rich and smooth, with a creamy texture and a fruity smell. As she put down the class, her nostrils picked up the aromas of ripe blackberries and raspberries.

The Captain scooched over slightly towards her, extending one foreleg along the back of the sofa. "I must admit, my dear, that as well as you wear it, I didn't expect to see you in uniform tonight."

Licking his lips, he leaned in a bit. Lily remained as she was, projecting neither discomfort nor eagerness. He needed to feel like this was all him.

"Surely, a pretty young mare like yourself must have an elegant dress or two in her wardrobe?"

She looked down for a moment, feigning embarrassment. "Oh, I do, but nothing that I thought would be good enough for the Officers' Mess."

Mailedhoof shook his head and tutted. "Tut-tut! Such a shame! We'll have to address that."

Scooting over even more, now his forehoof was behind her neck.

"Why, I had a look at Valise's spring collection earlier this week..."

Valise -- Louis Valise -- was one of the great Prench luxury fashion houses, with a prominent store in Canterlot. Mailedhoof was doubtless there with his wife and children, making sure they would all be properly outfitted for the social season as well.

She had to respect, on some imprecise level, a philanderer who still took care of his family.

The Captain leaned in even closer, brushing one hoof against the whiskers of his short moustache. "... I think there’s some pieces in there which would suit you beautifully."

The moustache-brushing hoof casually wound up coming to a rest on her thigh, as if almost by accident. Part of her -- the base, animalistic part -- lustily wanted to get on with that as quickly as possible. The other part lusted for haute couture -- and being able to show it off at the Gala.

"I'm sure they're very lovely, Captain, but I don't think I could possibly afford such a dress on a Specialist's salary."

With one hoof on her thigh and the other around her back, Mailedhoof leaned in even closer. "Then you should count yourself very lucky to be acquainted with a gentlecolt of means, my dear."

Now was the time for Lily to feign shock and surprise. She placed one hoof on her chest, curling in her shoulders slightly. "Oh, I couldn't, Captain! You're too generous!"

Oh, but she definitely could. Mmm, the looks she’d get at the gala in an in-season Louis Valise dress...

"Not at all, not at all. I'm simply happy to provide for one of Equestria's brave young guardsmares."

Lily lowered her hoof and relaxed her posture, and Mailedhoof took advantage to scoot in once more, his jacket brushing against hers. Now, for all the space the two were collectively using, the sofa might as well be a love-seat -- and a small one, at that.

Lily exhaled and took a deep breath, as if she were flustered by the offer and constrained by some invisible corset. "All right, if you insist."

"Oh, I do..." The hoof around her back curled inwards and bracketed her shoulder, pulling her gently towards the Captain. "You must make your way to the Strand as soon as possible and pick yourself out something elegant. I'll take care of the rest."

That was the deal done, then. The part of her that cared about what would happen in the distant future of tomorrow and beyond was satisfied, and all that was left was the part that cares about what was going to happen tonight.

And that part was famished.

"How can I possibly repay such noble charity, Captain?"

Mailedhoof was close enough now that the longer whiskers of his moustache fluttered with each word she whispered.

"I'm sure..."

His eyes locked with hers.

"... we can think..."

Lily’s mouth hung slightly open, expectantly, and he leaned forward even further.

"... of something."

Gently, he pressed his lips against hers.

After an all-too-brief taste, he pulled back and, seeing the glimmer in her eyes, he pressed forward again -- more boldly, this time. Embracing her, he didn’t have to force Lily’s lips open; they willingly parted when his tongue gently prodded against them. As he sensually explored her mouth, she felt his chest press against hers, and she casually struggled to put her wine glass down on the side-table, before she wound up dropping it.

The kiss went on so long that she was wonderfully short of breath when he finally broke it. Almost gasping, she licked her lips as he leaned over to attend to her neck. Undoing her collar and jacket in the process, he began to kiss his way down her body all while she fumbled eagerly to undo the chin-strap of her hat.

This part was so much easier when she could use her horn, but she’d manage

By the time he had the twelfth and final button undone, Lily’s chest was heaving in anticipation and she finally managed to release her head-cover. The fur-covered accessory tumbled onto the floor behind the sofa, and the Captain - her Captain - reared back to attend to his own jacket.

Panting, Lily leaned forward and scrambled to undo his lower buttons as he started from the top. She got halfway up his vest when she saw it.

Pulling back, she gasped in shock.

The rumors didn't do it justice.

Mailedhoof was enormous.

And it was apparent he had an appetite to match.

Glancing up, Lily saw an eager grin on the captain's face as he undid the last clasp, letting his red officer's jacket hang wide open. She stretched out a hoof and gently pawed at the object of her attention.

Mailedhoof licked his lips, and leaned over her to rest his forehooves on the back of the sofa. One of those hooves gently nudged her head forwards. She happily obliged, placing both of her forehooves on the Captain's flanks and turning her head sideways to keep her horn clear from his belly.

She began gently, softly nuzzling his stiff rod, and she heard a grunt from above her.

"Hrnghh..."

‘And he's a vocal colt, too!’

No wonder the fillies in the Canterlot barracks powder-room referred to Captain Montgomery Mailedhoof as 'The Battalion Stallion'.

There was just one myth left to confirm, but it could wait.

More moans came from above her as she playfully nibbled his tip with her lips. As she roamed further down, she could see his flanks jerk and quiver. And when she licked her way back up to the top, his chest puffed in and out against her head.

Grasping his flanks tightly, Lily gave his head another kiss, eliciting another quick grunt, before licking her lips and spreading them open, slipping him smoothly inside her mouth.

"...Ahhhhhhhhhh..."

She was rewarded with a long, coltish moan of pleasure. After letting that tantalizing sound run its course, she attended to his member in earnest.

First, gentle licking to get things started.

Mailedhoof's chest heaved up and down with deep, satisfied breaths.

She started to move her head in time with his own respiration. Shallow at first, then deeper and deeper until her mouth was almost filled with each swing. That's when she started to add wobbling her head to the ensemble.

His hips started to gently buck rhythmically with her own motions. "...Uhhnnnn..."

Another moan, and Lily set her tongue to work as well, swirling it around his tip.

Mailedhoof gasped and threw his head back. "...Oh-Ohh... Ohhhh..."

Lily pictured him wide-eyed, staring up at the ceiling as he received indescribable pleasure from beneath. That image filled her with a desire to finish this as quickly as possible, so that the Captain could attend to her own needs, and she sped up her pace.

But then again, she also wanted him coming back for more...

Just as he started to buck her mouth at a trot, Lily paused her motions, suckling delicately on him in place.

"... Mmmfff..." Her noisy stud bit his lip and trembled, bucking in brief spasms, aching for release.

Now was the perfect time to pull out, and there was a frustrated groan when she did so. But it quickly turned back to one of satisfaction when she moved a hoof over and stroked his rod with the soft frog of her hoof.

Giving her mouth a break, she leaned back and worked the Captain back up again for a while. When she could see his flanks tensing up from every pump, she moved forward again. Drifting her hoof motions further down his member, she once again nibbled at his tip.

"... oooOOOhhhhh..." The deep moan reverberating from his firm chest was music to her flickering ears.

She barely got his head back into her mouth when he started to buck against her lips again. A grunt accompanied every thrust, and she could tell it wouldn’t be long now. Weaving her head to and fro, Lily stroked upwards with her tongue, as if willing his impending release.

His breath grew shallow, and the noises got louder.

Then, sealing her lips tightly, she applied the final tool in her arsenal.

Suction.

"... Oh-oHHHHHHHH!"

That did the trick, and she felt his legs quiver as he emptied his load into her mouth.

"... AHHHHHHhhhhhhhhhh..."

Drawing it out to the last drop, Lily didn’t cease her tender ministrations until the pulsing had well and truly stopped. She was rewarded with a final, weak whinny when she finally released his member.

Sitting upright, she looked up with a closed mouth at her new salt-lick. Mailedhoof, out of breath and with his neck covered in sweat-foam, looked down at her.

Lily tilted her head back to let him watch her swallow.

Yes, she could play the demure mare all he wanted -- chaste and innocent, a perfectly suitable companion for polite company.

She licked her lips and opened her mouth to reveal that it was empty.

... But she was also the lusty mare he needed to satisfy his own indecent impulses.

He grimaced down at her, his face a mixture of exhaustion, satisfaction, drunkeness, and lust.

In that moment, it was the face of somepony who understood exactly what she was, and what she wanted. Good relationships are built on solid understandings, aren't they? Even if they're craven, wanton ones such as these.

With a satisfied nod, he sniffed and wiped the involuntarily-discharged nose-and-mouth muck off his snout, then pushed Lily over sideways onto her belly, lifting her hooves up onto the sofa behind her.

‘Oh, so it really is a 'love-seat', eh?’

Grunting like an athlete trying to get his worn muscles ready for the second heat, Mailedhoof clambered up on top of her. Just as soon as she managed to tear off her jacket, she felt his belly press against her back. And then his muzzle at her right ear.

"You need this, don't you?"

‘Mmmm, not just a moaner, but a talker, too?’

Lily nodded as she started to wink in anticipation.

"I really do."

With the Captain's hot breath against her neck, she felt something stiff and wet make its way smoothly between her legs. As he pressed in, she instinctively closed her mouth and moaned in her throat.

"Mmmm..."

Then he nibbled at her neck, and her mouth fell open.

"... Ahhh..."

He advanced further inside of her, deeper and deeper, and she almost held her breath until he found the end of his length. And with his girth, she felt parts of her squeeze like they'd never squeezed before. She started to buck her hips against the sofa, as if begging him to rut her.

There was another bite at her nape, less gentle this time.

"Tell me how much you need it..."

What a tease, when she was already so wound up!

"Oohh... Ohhh... I need it... I need it bad."

Brushing his snout against her mane, he whispered in her ear.

"That's no way to address an officer, soldier."

As if to emphasize his point, he quickly pulled out and bucked right back in.

‘Oh, sweet Celestia, I might just pass out if I have to wait any longer.’

"I need it, sir... I need it, Captain... I need it, Captain."

She bit her lip, squeezing her thighs together in anticipation.

"Mmm... That's what I thought."

She let out a wonderfully satisfied moan as she felt the first real buck against her hips.

"Aahhhhhhh..."

And as the rhythmical pumping continued, Lily lowered her head down to the sofa, squeaking with each delightfully pleasurable thrust. She shut her eyes, and fireworks started to go off in her head. They captivated and enthralled her, and she moaned with each delightful burst.

Her breath grew short, and things became hazy...

Lily remembered an immense, thrilling explosion right at the end, and feeling exhausted afterwards. A warm, fuzzy, heavy blanket seemed to collapse on top of her with a grunt, and she heard faint snoring in her ear.

The rest of the night was a complete blur.

Suggested interlude music: Matt Monro - 'On days Like These', from 'The Italian Job' [1969]
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KQIRbV_noi8

Chapter 56

Something has gone wrong. We don't seem to have an archived copy of that chapter.

Chapter 58

Honour Bound

Recommended background music: Kris Maddigan - 'Carnival Kerfuffle', from 'Cuphead'
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XORwfYUH23Y

Corporal Honour Bound was having a ‘perfectly ordinary’ -- ‘Oh, buck!’

"LEFT!"

Pushing hard on the tiller, Honour was jostled over rightwards up against the Royal Engineer's flank as the carriage, under her amateur control, swerved to avoid a hapless pony who stepped out into the path without looking. The shocked pedestrian jumped back as she navigated around him, then stared dumbfounded as the ponyless carriage carried on with little more than the quiet 'pffsht-pffsht' burble of its steam engine.

Twisting in his seat, Anonymous turned around and lifted his hat to apologize to the awestruck pony. “Terribly sorry, sir!"

Meanwhile, Honour struggled to get the wheels pointed straight again and back on the palace grounds' main pathway. It was quite an effort for her, and she was sweating in fear of the thought that another pony would jump out, but the Royal Engineer didn’t seem to be fazed even in the slightest.

"Ha-ha! Did you see the look on his face? There's going to be a lot more the day we take this into town!"

Honour hoped that day was far, far off.

"Yes, sir."

Her curt answer prompted a closer investigation, and the Royal Engineer looked down at her, seeing her death-grip on the steering bar.

"Steady on, Corporal. You're doing just fine."

"Could have fooled me, sir."

She really, really, really wanted to wipe the sweat accumulating at her brow, but she was worried that if she took her hooves off the tiller for even one second, she’d wind up crashing the Royal Engineer's brand new 'steam car.'

"Here, just keep it straight, and I'll slow us down a bit."

Anonymous placed his left hand on top of her hoof, then reached down and twisted the main steam valve a quarter-turn clockwise. There was no lurch as when a pony-pulled carriage slowed down, or even when the magical Friendship Express train put on its brakes, but rather a smooth deceleration from a hasty gallop, down to a much more manageable trot.

Gradually, Honour felt herself able to relax a bit. It helped that they were on the broad, packed-dirt avenue that led from the palace to the military barracks. As she came back to her senses, the road felt wider than it did before, and the poplar trees less threateningly close than they had seemed just a few moments ago. Honour sighed, and with Anonymous' hand still steadying her hooves on the tiller, she took a moment to wipe her brow.

It really was amazing how a few bits of machinery powered by little more than lamp oil and water could propel this tiny, modified four-wheeled dogcart along at fantastic speeds with barely any noise at all. If it was her that had stepped out into the road just then, she would’ve probably been just as dumbstruck.

"You holding up there, Corporal?"

She nodded. "Yes, sir. It's just all a bit much to take in at once -- the speed and the controls, I mean."

As she replaced her second hoof on the tiller, Anonymous leaned over and patted it with his other hand. "Well, for your first time driving, I'd say you're doing extremely well. Here, we're on a nice, wide, straightaway again, far away from any pedestrians, so how about I open up the tap?"

More speed was something she could probably do without.

"Uhm..."

"You'll be fine. I'll keep my hand here on the tiller too, just in case."

"O-Okay."

Bending forward, he gave a healthy double turn counter-clockwise to the main valve. Immediately, she felt pressed back against the seat as the carriage pulled forward. The Royal Engineer actually had to grip the brim of his top hat as they picked up speed.

"Ha-haa!"

As the carriage's spring suspension worked overtime to smooth out every little bump and crook in the road, Honour firmed up her grip on the controls. She had to admit, though, as terrifying as it was to be responsible for steering this crazed engine, at least she was just a few hooves above the ground. And, to be honest, it wasn’t really going that fast. Almost any pegasus could fly faster than this.

Heck, a few speedy earth ponies could probably gallop faster than this.

The difference was, though, by Anonymous' estimates, his 'automobile' could keep up this pace for three or four hours before needing a refill. The pegasus would need a rest after just one -- and the earth pony would only be able to sprint for short distances at such a speed.

Taking a deep breath, Honour felt herself able to relax in spite of the velocity, and she started to understand the Royal Engineer's elation.

The wind in her fur.

A certain thrill of speed.

She even dared - just for a moment - to look left and watch the trees, lawns, and gardens go whizzing by. But she still couldn’t fathom why, after spending just a few short minutes driving it himself, he stopped the car and ordered her to take the helm.

Maybe he'd be more forthcoming now that she’d negotiated her way around a few corners?

Turning forward again, Honour saw Anonymous looking down at her, still holding her hooves. "See? Not so bad after all?"

She forced out a thin smile. "I suppose so, sir. But why have me test drive? You should be sitting in front of the controls; you built this, after all."

Letting go of her hoof, and still clutching his hat, he leaned back and stretched out his legs. "Corporal, I'm not interested in building a car that only I can drive. I need to build a car that ponies can drive." With a grin, he looked over at her. “I do apologize for putting you on the spot, but I figured a slow-speed trial by fire would be the best teacher. Learning to pilot an automobile is more about feeling and experience than it is about rules and lessons. You have to drive until you get to where the carriage is merely an extension of your own body."

"Sounds a bit like learning to skate."

He nodded. "It's exactly the same idea. Why don't you try weaving the wheels left and right while we're on this easy straight section here?"

That sounded like a terrible idea. The expression on her face must have made that clear to him, as he placed one reassuring hand on top of her hooves again.

"Just do it gently and smoothly, and everything will be fine."

Taking a deep breath, she did as she was told, gently swinging the tiller left and right. Sure enough, the carriage threaded back and forth along the road, like a skier slaloming down a mountain. Better yet, it seemed to do so with no difficulty.

Maybe this wasn’t so hard after all.

"I think I'm getting the hang of it."

"Good, because we're coming to the end of the main thoroughfare. You'll want to navigate around the fountain and send us back the way we came."

The small fountain at the far end of the gardens loomed ahead of them, growing closer and closer by the second. It was true that the road around it was still pretty wide, and the carriage seemed able to turn easily enough, but Honour was not so sure...

"At this speed, sir?"

"Sure. Start from the outside rim, aim to just barely clip the fountain halfway around, then swing back to the outside. If you can hit the apex we'll rocket back onto the main road like a racer."

She gulped.

There was a crossroad right in front of the fountain, but the main path didn’t broaden to match, which was going to make getting to the outside of the circle difficult.

“Oh, and clip the grass on the way in and out -- nopony'll mind a little out-of-bounds driving for this first outing."

Somehow, she just knew he was going to say that.

"Just don't try to steer while we're off the road, or we could flip."

‘Well, that's reassuring.’

"Oh, and if you feel that we're sliding instead of turning, point the wheels in the direction of the slide to regain control."

‘You have to do what now?’

"Sir?"

He seemed to realize that he was giving a bit too much to take in all at once. "Don't worry about it. I'll guide you if it happens."

And so, with the Royal Engineer's hand reassuringly on top of her hooves, she aimed for the right outside edge of the fountain circle and twisted the tiller slightly to the left, pointing the wheels right.

She felt him tap a finger on her hoof. "A little less, and you're there."

With just seconds before the wheels left the dirt road, she inched the controls a tiny bit back towards center, and the carriage plowed straight through the freshly-mowed sod with barely a jostle up top. As soon as the front wheels touched the dirt again, she tried to swing the tiller right again, only to find Anonymous' hand holding it in place.

"... Steady... Okay, smoothly now!"

The little pffsht-pffsht-pffsht carriage barreled towards a hedge lining the outside of the road, and Honour firmly, but progressively, swung the tiller to the right. Amazingly, the wheels responded perfectly, and the nimble little dogcart's nose pointed back towards the fountain.

But something was not right...

The back wheels were slipping!

The front wheels were stopping!

Despite turning, they were still headed for the bushes!

"Right! Turn into the slide!"

Honour swung the tiller left and tried to get the wheels pointing in the direction that the carriage was actually going. She looked right, and the hedge -- and the stairs up to the barracks ground -- careened dangerously close. But she felt the front wheels bite into the looser soil, and they started spinning again.

"There's your grip! Bring it left!"

Against the muckier earth there, she struggled to push the tiller right again, but it eventually came -- and the carriage swung around the circle, passing the midway point.

"Alright, let it swing outside!"

Honour kept the tiller to the right, then turned her head to the right to gauge the hedge.

Instantly, the Royal Engineer shouted at her. “Eyes ahead!"

"But then--"

“Look where you want to go!"

‘This is ridiculous!’

As the carriage came careening out of the circle, Honour was forced to just glance right to make sure she didn’t leave the road. Somehow, it all worked, and they cleared the circle with just a little unsteady sway in the rear wheels.

"There you are! Back on the avenue!"

Incredulous that these bizarre, counterintuitive instructions somehow managed to get her around the corner safely, she straightened the tiller again, and after a healthy hop as the car jumped up from the fresh grass onto the raised roadway, she inched it left and then straight again. Miraculously, they were back on the wide main road, driving down it straight and true.

The Royal Engineer released his hand from her hooves on the tiller, and slapped it against his knee. “Outstanding, Corporal! Power-sliding a live-axle steam carriage! We'll make a rallycross champion out of you in no time!"

She had no idea what that was, but it sounded like a compliment. She had to admit, the excitement of that stunt had her heart beating furiously -- in a good way.

"Thank you, sir!"

"How do you feel about being Equestria's first pony car-driver now?"

She nodded her head and actually managed a genuine smile. "I'm honored, sir."

The Royal Engineer grinned. "Hah! I thought you were 'Honour,' Corporal!"

She hadn’t heard anyone make that lame old joke since 'shoe camp and high school. Somehow, it made her chuckle now. "Heh. Call me whatever you like, sir, as long as you don't make me go around the fountain again at that speed."

Anonymous' eyes lit up. "At this speed? No, next time we'll take it even faster!"

‘Oh, Celestia.’

"Faster?!"

"Of course! What's the point of life if you don't challenge yourself?"

Honour sighed and shook her head.

‘This mad, brilliant maniac of a colt.’

So much for her boring Sunday supervising wrench-jockeys in the garage. That task had lasted all morning, sure, but she’d barely gotten some lunch in her when he’d pulled her out here for this!

"At least let me practice some more at slow speeds first, sir."

Anonymous smiled and pulled off his hat. "Sure! How about you start with parking us back in the garage?"

She recalled just how cramped it was in there. Anonymous even had her guide him out on hoof! Not to mention how narrow the roadway was to get there...

"Uhm..."

"Had enough for one day, have you?"

She nodded. "Yes, sir."

"Alright, let's switch places, then."

‘What?’

"While we're driving, sir?"

Without even waiting for her, he clambered up on top of the box behind the seats, standing above the corporal. "Come on, 'Honoured,' move over!"

Desperate not to let go of the tiller, she scooched over to the far side, keeping one hoof on it. Making it look effortless, Anonymous stepped over her and sat down in the driver's seat, placing his hand on top of her hoof.

"There we are! Haha!" His laughter was infectious, and she found herself giggling along with him.

“Now, let's park this crate and see what kind of damage we've done to it!"

‘Damage?!’

"Damage, sir?"

He looked as chipper as ever. "Sure! I've got enough parts for three more I want to put together, but let's see how the basic design held up under pressure."

Smiling, he reached down in front of Honour’s legs and twisted the main valve clockwise twice. She could feel the carriage noticeably start to slow down. After he almost effortlessly made the quick left and then right turn required to head over to the garage, he continued talking.

"I want to get this thing cleaned off and inspected before dinner. Then I can work on any design revisions for the coach-builders this evening."

"Yes, sir."

Another blind corner, and, giving a quick double-squeeze of the rubber horn, he snapped the carriage around it.

‘How does he make it look so easy?’

Well, he already gave her the answer.

Practice.

As part of her was still trembling from the terrifying excitement of that high-speed fountain circle, another part of her was genuinely looking forward to trying it again. But that was business for another day.

‘And what a day it'll be!’

‘...Huh, that's funny.’

Earlier in the assignment, Glamerspear was trying to scam Sparkshower out of a spot at Anonymous' side at the Gala.

And now here she was pining for another 'ordinary,’ 'boring' day with nopony but her VIP.

Suggested viewing: MyClassicCarTV - Jay Leno's 1909 Stanley Steamer
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hgH88xrYdE4

Chapter 59

Artemis Sparkshower

For some reason, Artemis was feeling very exposed. Which was weird, because although she wasn’t wearing any clothes, a plush white cotton towel was covering her plot. The pegasus was lying on a padded table, with her head in a soft pillow, her forelegs splayed slightly out ahead of her, hind legs similarly arranged behind, and her large wings folded neatly against her torso.

It was actually a very comfortable position, and none of her private parts were open to the air right then, so what was the problem? Probably the fact that in a few moments, somepony was going to open the door to that little room and give her the first massage she’d ever had.

"You nice and comfy over there, Sparks?"

Oh, yeah, and Lily was on the table next to her, too.

"I think so..."

The truth was, she wasn’t, but that was her own hesitation and insecurity, and it had nothing to do with the setup or the environment. It had become clear from the moment she’d stepped through the front door that 'Spa Dalecarlia' wasn't one of those shady Canterlot 'stroke-and-poke' parlors where the word 'massage' was placed firmly between sarcastic quotation marks.

From the outside, it was just another large, white-painted brick row house, its sign -- a pony silhouette, painted red and decorated with blue and white designs -- affixed to the wall beside an unassuming, black double door. But inside, Artemis was met with a surprising elegance. The smoky aroma of pine and incense overrode the smell of the street, and the burble of a small, artificial waterfall feature at the entrance drowned out the noise of passing carriages. Beyond that was the constant crackle of small, open-walled fireplaces, lined with blackened stones that were fed with aromatic woods. And everywhere, pine-wood floors, waxed and polished to a warm gloss, and so solidly set that she still hadn’t heard so much as a single board creak.

The price for a 'tandem massage, deluxe service' seemed perfectly reasonable, especially since it included a bottle of wine and also granted her access to the spa's pools, saunas, and baths afterwards as well. As a result, Artemis didn't feel too guilty for Lily treating her like this. She’d definitely have to repay the unicorn’s generosity with an excursion of her own, though.

Anyways, there she was, fifteen minutes or so after checking in, with a few relaxing sips of 'Blaxsta' sweet ice wine in her, and lying on a firm but cozy massage table, underneath a soft cotton towel.

Artemis still didn’t hear any of the boards creak, nor even a hollow boom from the subfloor, but she did hear the soft patter of slipper-covered hooves on wood.

Except... was one of those sets not the sound of hooves?

The door opened, admitting a streak of light from the bright corridor into the candle-lit massage-room, and Artemis glanced up from her pillow. A smiling, elegantly-coiffed unicorn mare in a pure-white nurse's robe quietly shuffled into the room.

"Good afternoon, gentlemares; my name is Gala, and this is my associate Nina."

She waved a hoof behind her, and a similarly-clad chestnut-brown griffon hen stepped in behind her.

"I'm Spa Dalecarlia's unicorn specialist and I'll be attending to Lily today, while Nina is our feather-treatment expert and will be attending to Artemis."

Nina the griffon gave a polite nod of acknowledgement after closing the door.

Gala looked Sparkshower and Glamerspear over. “Are there any questions before we begin?"

Artemis wiggled her head back and forth against the pillow. It was really soft, but it was still holding her head up nicely. It smells faintly of lilac, too. As she settled back into its sleep-inducing comfiness, Gala headed over to a shelf lined with jars and bottles on the far side of Lily's table, while Nina did likewise with the one near Artemis. Peeking out sideways, in the corner of her vision she could just barely watch as the hen rubbed lotion on her neatly-trimmed talons and selected a bottle of yellowish oil. Then she stepped back, still rubbing her claws to spread out the lotion, and leaned down to whisper behind her head.

"Nina tayk gud caer of you taday, mizz Sparkzhawer. You want Nina gif uzual treetment?"

Artemis blinked. The hen’s Griffonese accent was thick, and her voice was hoarse and smoky, but that's not why the pegasus was confused. "Uh... It's my first time having a massage, actually?"

The talon-rubbing stopped. "Oh! Forgive Nina! Nina hyeer Artemiz in gard, tought mast be Valkyri."

What was it with expatriate griffons thinking she was a Valkyrie? She didn't even walk in there with her armor on! It was still back in her room at the palace!

Stepping around in front where Artemis could see, Nina smiled and placed her talons together in supplication. "You kno Valkyriz, yes? Famouz pegazus soldyars?"

The specialist nodded.

"Nina iz favrit mazzeuz Valkriz. 'Spa Dalecyarlia' iz favrit zpa Valkyriz. Comm myany ovten."

Huh. Well, in that case, she supposed the misunderstanding was understandable. She wanted to say something in reply, but the pillow was just so comfortable right then. The lilac scent made her think of frolicking in a spring meadow… All Artemis could manage was the slightest of nods and a blink.

Thankfully, Nina understood, and her face brightened up as she squeezed another blob of cream out onto her talons. "You firzt tayme mazzaj? Masslez muzt be sorr! Stronk pegazus gard need myany mazzaj keep top shyape! Nina mend you good."

After completely covering her digits with the stuff, she winked at Artemis and stepped around beside her. “Ve start viz standart tryeatmyent, yes? You tell Nina iv hurtz."

‘If it hurts?’

‘This can hurt?!’

Suddenly, the pillow didn’t seem quite so soft anymore, and Artemis felt her muscles start to tense up. Just as they did, she felt a squirt of something cool and refreshing on her right shoulder.

"Oil iz for myake mazzaj smoov. Oil cyam out in shaver lyater, yes?"

‘That's reasonable.’

Nina put her talons against the pegasus shoulder and right foreleg and began to gently smear the oil back and forth up her limb.

‘Well, this isn't so bad.’

Artemis closed her eyes and tried to relax. When that section of her coat was good and oily, she felt the hen let go, and then there was a sharp noise. Glancing up, the specialist saw Nina crack her knuckles, and the griffon winked at sprawled out pegasus again.

"... OK, now vork beginz."

She placed her talons back down, but this time the gentleness was gone. Nina pushed her digits hard against Artemis’ shoulder, and she felt herself partially forced into the table's bed-cushion. The pressure built up and up, and just when things were feeling on the edge of being painful, she relented a bit, only to slide down her foreleg, squeezing it tightly in much the same way. It was a forceful sensation, and Artemis opened her eyes and stared ahead, unable to enjoy the pillow. As Nina went down, pausing every few seconds to squeeze, Artemis' mind tried to comprehend the weird experience. She could almost feel it going through the list of tactile possibilities.

It wasn’t actually pain.

But it was too strong to be mere contact.

And it was certainly not a tickle or anything like that.

Nor was it particularly hot or cold, either...

Each of these sensations filled her head in turn, like a rotating pinwheel of options, her mind unable to settle on any single one.

Nina ended at her hoof, cradling her pastern as she firmly moved the joint through its full rotations.

‘Now that's a strange sensation.’

But again, not unpleasant.

The massage continued with a second pass at Artemis' right foreleg and shoulder, and she still felt unable to quite put together how she felt. Especially since she was having trouble even feeling that limb. By the time Nina finished a third paralyzing pass and moved over to the pegasus' left side, she was at least able to relax again. When Nina reached her hindquarters and pressed her cream-covered talons into Artemis’ towel-covered plot, she felt her eyes start to droop as the all-consuming soft lilac pillow sucked her into its tender world. And when the masseuse reached her final quarter, Artemis had made up her mind:

‘Massages are fantastic.’

With all four of Artemis' limbs in a numb kind of ecstasy, Nina the griffon masseuse reached down and swung out a pair of padded extensions from underneath the main table. Delicately, but confidently, she unfolded both of Artemis’ wings and stretched them out to a comfortable extent, laying them down on the table supplements. The pegasus started to wake up again, wondering if it was now time for her to be preened by somepony else. An almost horrifying proposition when Glamerspear first mentioned it, but Artemis was so mellowed-out from the rest of the massage that it was more of a curiosity than anything else.

But Nina didn’t attend to her wings; instead, she felt the hen dribble a healthy amount of oil on her back. As her taloned digits forcibly pressed and smoothed Artemis' upper side, from her withers to her croup, the experience was so indescribably fantastic that the pegasus couldn’t help but let out a soft moan.

"Mmmmnnnnnngg..."

Taking her audible tender emanation as a cue, Nina redoubled the force. As the pressure approached pain, Artemis felt a kind of bizarre, relaxing euphoria, and her next breath -- made under duress owing to the force from above -- was followed by a noise that was as much a grunt of distress as it was a sigh of pleasure.

"....Gnnnnnnffffmmmmmmmmmmmm..."

She closed her eyes, feeling her head sink further into the pillow, her limbs growing even more numb, as her torso was gripped by an agonizing ecstasy. Nina continued to work the Artemis’ back, and she continued to moan involuntarily, each of her vocal exhalations a tribute to the masseuse’s fantastic skill. By the time Nina was done, an all-too-brief eternity later, Artemis was in such a comatose state that she wouldn't care to move even if the building was on fire.

She was barely conscious of her griffon attendant stepping away to wash her hands in the basin at the back of the room, and was still just barely aware when Nina came back and sat down next to Artemis' outstretched right wing. It was an impossible struggle to open just one eye to watch, but when she felt something rustle her feathers, she managed to open one of her windows into the candle-lit room.

Artemis' vision was blurry and unfocused, but she could just barely make out Nina’s golden-yellow beak deep amongst her secondaries, nibbling and nipping. The hen’s eyes were open wide for this inspection, and she was holding the pegasus’ second digit against the table padding with one claw to keep her wing steady.

Artemis watched as she came across a loose, ragged feather, somehow forgotten at the base of her wing, and quickly yanked it out with a fast jerk of her head, dropping the worn item on the ground. This would normally be the most awkward and ticklish thing imaginable, save for the fact that the pegasus really couldn’t feel anything at all.

Just then, there was a moan from her left.

"Mmm... Ahh..."

Nina continued her work on Artemis’ right wing, and she endeavored to swap her right eye being open for her left. Another massive undertaking later, and Artemis saw the unicorn attendant, Gala, sitting in a small stool just in front of Lily's head.

Wearing a set of jeweller's magnifying glasses, the unicorn attendant had a tiny, wooden-handled brush suspended in her telekinetic field. Each time she briskly stroked it against the junction of one of Glamerspear's spiral horn-whorls, Artemis heard her comrade inhale sharply or emit a sound of pleasure. She even saw the unicorn's brow scrunch up and her hind leg twitch at the same time, too.

‘Wow.’

‘Massages really are fantastic.’

As Artemis felt Nina nibble on another one of her feathers, setting it straight, her eye drooped closed again. Just before she all but lost consciousness, there was just one thought going through her head:

‘Can I get a membership to this place?’

Because if so, it would be worth every silver bit…

Suggested interlude music: Jami Sieber - 'Maenam', as featured in 'Braid' [2004]
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jx0YwZWv84Q

Chapter 60

Honour Bound

It was nice to finally have a break.

No more helping the Royal Engineer colthandle large pieces of machinery around.

Or having a tiller at her hooves and a speeding dogcart underneath her plot.

Or clambering all over the same dogcart, inspecting it for cracked fittings, loose screws, sheared nails, and other mechanical faults. Anonymous, Corporal Honour Bound’s Very Important Pony, who isn't actually a pony, had certainly put her to work today.

Which is not to say that the work wasn't enjoyable or interesting -- it was! Not the usual VIP bodyguard duties, to be sure, but she didn't mind. Even if Anonymous had roped her in more because she’d just happened to be there than anything else, who cared? What else was she going to do, just stand there not helping?

Still, it was a relief when Sergeant Ebonshield tagged her out sharply at four in the afternoon.

Honour had gone straight upstairs, pulled off her armor, took a shower, and then, noticing that her quaternion's two specialists still seemed to be out enjoying their day on the town, headed off to dinner by herself. So, there she was in the subdued Sunday evening barracks chow hall, quietly having dinner for one with a side order of that week's new issue of 'The New Equestrian.'

And who else was on the cover but her favorite pegasus: Glamerspear's ex-coltfriend, Lieutenant Valiant Kilfeather. Caricatured sitting on top of a high brick wall blocking a river bridge, he'd been drawn with a smug and confident grin. Strewn in front of his wall were half-a-dozen toppled over carriages with their noblepony occupants scattered to and fro, looking incredulous with their bushy mustaches and cracked monocles.

'NOBLES RUN HEADLONG INTO KILFEATHER'S BARRICADE,' read the caption.

With her own personal insights into Kilfeather's motivations, Honour decided to skip the lead story for now.

After flipping past some other political topics, including one on the accusations against Galloway Bitsmount, she found yet another reference to her current assignment. Buried in the reviews section at the back, somepony at the magazine had written a few paragraphs about her VIP's book, 'Science & Industry, Part 1.’ And it appeared that they liked it, though the reviewer admitted to not quite understanding everything inside.

Honour could sympathize with that.

Still, they praised his endeavour as being 'a most valuable use of Their Royal Majesties’ treasury,’ and said that 'we look forward to seeing more wondrous works from our alien Royal Engineer.’ It was good to know that it wasn't just her, nor even just the Princesses, who thought that Anonymous was doing good work. The press was picking up on it, too.

As Honour took another bite of her dinner, she wondered if he was going to get any interview requests soon. He certainly should once word got around of his 'automobile.’

She flipped the magazine over and started into The New Equestrian's review of a new musical which opened last week at the West Side Theatre, called 'The Spectre of the Show Hall.' Before she could get into it, she heard someone calling her name.

"Bound? Is that you?"

The corporal looked up, and walking towards her table wearing a friendly smile on his face was a dark grey earth pony colt with a liberty-blue mane, dressed in a Royal Guard olive drab jacket.

"Thought I might run into you here. Long time no see."

Alex Castlerook. A friend and neighbour of hers from Fillydelphia, he enlisted at the same time as Honour Bound, went into the infantry just like her, and served alongside her in the same regiment. She hadn’t seen him since she’d left for the VIP service, and that was almost a year ago. The nametag on his breast identified him as a sergeant now, too.

"Likewise, Castlerook. What are you doing here in Canterlot? You didn't transfer out of the 186th, did you?"

She nodded at the seat opposite hers, and Castlerook took his time sitting down, groaning a bit, clearly thankful for the rest. "Nah, I'm still watching the bay at Fort Mifflin most days. But we've been temporarily reassigned here to Canterlot to provide extra security for the Gala. Just marched in this afternoon."

"Ah."

That wasn't unusual. Every year, divisional and regimental commanders vied and haggled over which one would get the Gala 'extra-help' assignment. It involved a lot of work, but guarding the walls during The Grand Galloping Gala was still a feather in every officer's cap. And since the winning regiment's soldiers usually wound up working directly under the command of the normally under-strength Palace Guard battalion, some of the regimental officers could usually get into the Gala itself.

Castlerook readjusted himself in his seat, looking her over. "So, how's the VIP service been treating you, Bound?"

"It's been okay."

If Honour had met him two weeks ago, she would’ve been saying that sarcastically, secretly begging to get out of there. But being the Royal Engineer's bodyguard had changed things, and she not only said it honestly, but proceeded to elaborate on it.

"My current assignment is pretty good, actually."

Castlerook nodded. "Good to hear."

That was all either of them could think to say for the moment, and there was an awkward silence where they were just looking each other over. He'd finally lost his new-recruit body shape, slimming down a bit. And he'd let his mane and tail grow in a bit from the buzzcut he used to wear.

It was a good look.

Honour glanced at the rank insignia on his shoulder. "They made you a sergeant, huh?"

He looked down for a moment, almost embarrassed, then shrugged his eyebrows. "Yeah, well, somepony's got to keep the 'shoes in line; I guess I looked like the colt for the job."

Licking his lips, he tilted his head sideways. "You still have your access pass into the Underground, I see."

It was well known that nopony in the Royal Guard, and maybe not even all of Equestria, could stop the insatiable rumor mill known as The Corporals' Underground. Bottom-rung non-commissioned officers like herself, straddling the line between the enlisted soldiers and the more senior staff, were almost expected to somehow know everything that was going on -- and they often did. Honour wasn’t big into rumors, but even she couldn't avoid the Underground. And now that he was a sergeant, Castlerook was out of the loop.

Honour shrugged. "Yeah, though there's always so many rumors going around the Palace, the Underground's like a tiny creek next to a raging river."

The colt across from her laughed, and it was a laugh tempered by experience, tinged with the world-weariness that came from it. A laugh not unlike her own.

"I hear that."

His ears twitched and he glanced around, looking over at a rowdy table full of young guardsponies like he just got a telepathic signal from them.

"Well, I'd better see to my flock before one of 'em manages to start a fire before the big day."

Castlerook nodded at Honour, smiling. “It was nice to run into you and catch up a bit. We should do it again, when I'm not harnessed to a wagonful of recruits fresh out of 'shoe camp."

His smile was infectious, and she nodded. "Yeah, we should."

He rolled his tongue around in his mouth, and then she saw him swallow. "Maybe we could catch up over some drinks later tonight, at the canteen? If your coltfriend doesn't mind, I mean."

Honour had to laugh at that last one. He knew what’d happened to her back in 'Filly. He knew the colt, too.

And he knew just how cautious and withdrawn she’d become since then.

"What coltfriend?" Honour shook her head. “I'll see you there -- if your wife doesn't mind."

"Wife? You mean Their Majesties' Royal Guard?"

Yeah, she’d always pegged Castlerook for being married to the job. He never admitted it back when they were in the 186th together, first as privates, then privates first class, and then corporals -- always maintaining that he'd get out as soon as he reached the end of his term of active service. But he didn't seem sincere about it, somehow. Maybe it was just because he didn't get emotional about the Royal Guard's nonsense. He had a tolerance for it that made him the perfect colt for the job.

Seems like getting promoted to Sergeant made him face the truth: he was in the Guard for life.

Castlerook nodded, the short shock of blue mane sticking out above his forehead bobbing slightly as he did. “She knows I'm faithful, so I don't think she'll mind me going out. Especially not if it's with another one of her finest."

Honour sucked on her lips. "Making a lot of assumptions there, Castlerook."

He lifted an eyebrow. "Am I? Good, then..." Still smiling that warm, congenial smile of his, he got up from the chair. “...I've given you something to talk to me about over drinks tonight."

Castlerook knew how tight-lipped she could be, too. As he gave her a friendly nod and stepped off, she watched him saunter over to his table and sit down with his current squad of Fillydelphia goons.

The corporal sighed.

‘This isn’t going to be just drinks tonight, is it.’

It sounded like he really wanted to dish the dirt, and Honour wasn’t sure she was in the mood for that.

Maybe she ought to reconsider and blow him off.

Well, what the Tartarus! It's been a good day so far, what with her feeling properly tired, yet still looking forward to the next shift; might as well catch up with an old friend and comrade.

Alex was somepony she could relate to, and who often thought the way she did, too.

A better-looking one than she remembered, at that.

And it sounded like he was single.

Aw, buck, she could just hear her mother's voice admonishing her to go after that colt.

'Youze bettah dress up nice fah him if youze wanna see him egain, young mayah!'

Nothing ever happened between the two of them two back in Filly' because Honour was already attached, and when that fell apart, she’d high-tailed it to Canterlot. Had he been the 'other colt' all this time?

She took a drink from her cup.

Nah, Castlerook never saw her like that. Yeah, he never shunned her for the boring brown mare she was, but that was probably just because he had more than the half-ration of brains that every other Royal Guardspony seemed to come with. And he was a nice colt and a good friend, too.

He listened to her hash out her problems.

Offered to help her out when she had her crisis.

Even broke ties with her ex when he found out what they'd done to her.

Honour stared, intently, at Castlerook's green-jacketed back. He was keeping a watchful, knowing gaze on the twelve greenhorns at the table. There was something inviting about his keen green eyes and the stern but friendly look on his face.

Buck, why the Tartarus did Glamerspear have to pick that morning to give her the bucking 'talk'? That, plus the exciting and exhausting 'driving test' had her imagining all sorts of stupid crap.

Well, either way...

Maybe she ought to dress up a little bit tonight.

Put on her best face for an old friend, at least?

Yeah.

Lily Glamerspear

If Lily sat in the pool any longer, she was probably going to turn into a pickle. But her comrade hadn’t shown the slightest hint of wanting to leave, and it wasn’t that late -- yet.

With her forelegs splayed out behind her on the tile edge, Lily grabbed her drink -- just flavored water; it was a spa, after all -- in her telekinetic field and took a sip. In front of her, a few hooves away, Sparkshower was still just floating on her back, eyes closed, forelegs tucked in, and wings outstretched.

Had she even folded them up since their tandem massage?

Lily recalled her stepping sideways through a lot of doorways to get to the baths, and that was after they’d both managed a solid 90-minute, post-rubdown nap.

And after lengthy showers to wash out the massage oils.

Not to mention a visit to the sauna to open up their pores, of course.

Then another shower to rinse out the sweat.

So they’d been there in the baths, enjoying the warm water for... what, an hour and a half, maybe?

Sparkshower had said barely two words since they got there. She sure seemed to be silently enjoying herself, though. As Lily’s pegasus combat-chum floated aimlessly by, she spoke up, almost whispering in the quiet, echoing hall.

"Glamerspear."

"Yeah?"

"I don't think I ever want to leave this place."

Lily chuckled, and took another sip from her glass. ‘Mmmm, blueberry pomegranate.’ Yeah, it was expensive at five bits a bottle, but the bottles were big, and besides -- it's spa day today.

Spa day, where the schedule's made up and the bits don't matter.

Sparkshower turned her head over towards Lily, craning her neck back as she floated slowly away. "I'm serious. This is the most amazing day of my life."

Lily snorted. "Feel free to come back anytime you want, Sparks. It's a public spa."

"Oh, I will! Do you think they sell memberships?"

Nodding, Lily put the drink down. "Sure. Access to the baths, showers, sauna. It's worth it if you come more than twice a month. And you get a discount on services like the massages."

Abandoning her 'dead-pony's float' pose, Artemis flipped over onto her belly. Lily watched her doggy-paddle towards her, wings still loose in the water.

"Really? Let's do it! I want to come here every week! Will you come with me?"

‘This mare serious?’

Well, Lily could afford it, barely, and it would be nice to come and relax once a week…

And it's always nicer to come with friends. Mailedhoof would probably prefer if she made spa day more of a weekday morning or afternoon thing, but Lily could sort that out later. Grinning, the unicorn nodded at her potential new spa-buddy.

"You really had that good of a time, huh?"

Sparks nodded excitedly, splashing water everywhere as her chin bobbed up and down.

Lily shrugged. "Alright, let's do it."

There were more splashes as Artemis clapped her forehooves together, exclaiming quietly so as not to disturb the tranquil hall.

"Yaaay!"

Luckily, there was almost nobody else in the baths for her to have disturbed. But, recalling the situation of their employment, Lily tilted her head sideways.

"Provided we get authorization for that much libo, I mean. I don't think we're really supposed to get any vacation time at all in the VIP service, right? We're basically either on-duty or on-call. That's why the assignments are only for three months at a time, ya know."

Those big blue eyes of hers instantly went all pouty. "Aww! But if we just come for a couple of hours? I'm sure we could get away for just that!"

Lily shrugged again. "Sure, probably. But, I mean, the Royal Engineer's a busy colt. If he needs us, we've got to be there for him, right?"

Having paddled her way over to Glamerspear, Sparkshower flipped over onto her back and floated aimlessly nearby. "Of course! Oooh, or maybe we could bring him with us! He's a hard worker, he could use a massage, couldn't he?"

Lily glanced around the place.

‘Bring Anonymous here?’

Sure, it was nice for a public bath-house.

Clean.

Pleasant decorations and furniture.

Good, competent staff, too.

But, well, she’d been in a couple of Canterlot's members-only spas, and ‘Dalecarlia’ didn’t hold a candle to them.

"I dunno, Sparks... I mean, sure, it's a good place and I think he'd like it, but why come here to a public spot when he could easily join one of the private clubs? Alien hairless monkey-creature or no, any of them would be glad to have someone from the Blue Chamber join their exclusive ranks."

Flipping back forwards and briefly ducking her head under the water to wet her hair, Sparkshower resumed treading water. "Private spas? What are those like?"

Lily telekinetically floated over her drink and took another sip. "I've only been to one: the 'Crimson Ellipse', in the Temple district." She glanced around at the neat mix of creamy-white and beige tiles covering the walls, floors, and ceilings. "It's basically this, but turned up a big notch. Take the pools, for example: there's attendants serving drinks, a harp player in the corner, circulating fans in the ceiling, the tiles are arranged in mosaics of Equestrian pastorals..."

Sparkshower looked up and around, and the unicorn could swear the pegasus could see what she was talking about.

Lily shrugged again. “That sort of thing. It's still a spa, and I don't have any complaints about this one, but the elegance, opulence, and service is just on another level, ya know?"

"Wow. Did you have a massage there?"

She sure did.

"I did -- a couples' massage." She leaned in conspiratorially, lowering her voice.

"... You each get two masseuses."

Sparkshower's eyes went wide, and her jaw dropped open. It just hung there, silently, as her brain computed how that would feel.

"Two masseuses... Gosh..."

Lily smiled. "Heh, you seemed to really enjoy your one masseuse, earlier."

She closed her eyes and sucked in her lips, clearly reminiscing. "Yeah..."

‘Oh, this could be fun.’

"I mean, I needed that massage, and a good horn-job always sends me on the express train to pleasureville, especially when they get in there deep, but you sounded like you were really feeling yours."

With her eyes still closed and her legs paddling in place, she licked her lips.

"Mm-hmmmm..."

Lily noticed Sparks’ wings start to lift up out of the water too, no longer quite so limp.

‘Heh.’

"That griffon was really working you over. Way heavier than anything I've ever seen. Almost looked like she was going to crush you flat or rip you apart."

Sparkshower bit her lip.

"MMMmMmfff, yeahhh..."

‘So she likes it rough, huh?’

‘OK, time for the punchline.’

"Last time I felt like how you looked during that massage... Well, you have been rutted before, haven't you, Sparkshower?"

Lily made sure to have her glass in her mouth just as Artemis’ eyes shot open and her cheeks turned a rosy red. Without saying a word, she curled up her legs and sucked in her mouth, then, slowly, lowered her stiff wings, and started to beat them to stay afloat. In the span of half a minute, her expression went from shocked, to embarrassed, to frustrated, to scowling, and then finally to a sort of resolute confidence.

It was hilariously adorable.

Realizing the teasing predicament Lily had placed her in, Artemis licked her lips and opened her mouth. But Lily cut her off, waving a dismissive hoof, having gotten her giggles out of her pegasus buddy already.

"I'm teasing, Sparks. You don't have to tell me anything."

Now her face of frustration was back in full force. "I know, but I'm... I'm not some... maiden filly, okay?"

‘Oooh, so maybe she's still feeling talkative today?’

After that depressing bit about her coltfriend this morning, Lily was worried she was going to clam up. This was her chance to get her to spill some of the juicy bits.

Nodding, Lily swirled her drink around. She just had to have a little tact.

"Sure, Sparks, I believe you. You don't have to tell me anything about how your Huckleberry bucked you behind the Shortcakes' strawberry silo, or whatever you call the building they're stored in."

On the other hoof, buck tact.

As her eyes opened even wider, Sparkshower's creamy cheeks turned a brighter shade of red, and she gulped.

“But anyways, I didn't ask if you'd ever been bucked before, I asked if you've been rutted before."

Lily let that statement hang in the air.

The pegasus' brow furrowed slightly. "Wha... What's the difference?"

"Oh, so you haven't been rutted before, then?"

The grin was back on Glamerspear’s face, and the wide-eyed look was back in Sparkshower’s.

‘Time to spill the beans.’

Lily finished her drink and set the glass down. “Bucking's what you do on a nice clean bed, or in a quiet barn with fresh hay. It's a good time, but it's quick, and even though you're having fun, your mind can still wander -- what's for dinner, the book you're reading, the movie you just saw, the next boffyball tournament, that sort of thing, ya know?"

A hint of confusion crept back into those baby blues. "Uh-huh?"

The unicorn took a deep breath, then looked Artemis straight in the eyes.

"But rutting..." Lifting an eyebrow, she leaned forward.

"... Rutting is feral. It's bestial. It's savage. It's when your colt is a monster between the sheets."

Lily shook her head, holding her gaze. “You're being bucked so hard and so good, you wouldn't care if you're in a filthy mud-hole or if it was pouring rain. You can't think about anything else -- you can't think about anything at all, almost, for all the fireworks going off in your head."

Licking her lips, she reclined back against the wall. “When you've had a good rutting, you won't whinny or moan, you'll growl like a beast. You'll bite him because he's going so hard it almost hurts, but you'll bite him even harder if he lets up for even a moment. And you just want more, and more, and more, until those fireworks hit the big bang at the end, and as everything goes dark, you fall asleep to the echoes."

Lily closed her eyes, tilted her head up, and nodded. "...That's what a rutting is."

Sparkshower was breathing heavily, and as Lily could see after she opened her eyes, half-covering her mouth with her forehooves, and with her wings flapping fast enough in the water that she was propelled halfway out of the pool with each stroke.

Lily lifted an eyebrow. "... So... Have you been rutted?"

Still in the throes of imaginary ecstasy, Sparkshower shook her head.

"No..."

She swallowed.

"... But I want to be."

‘Oh, now this could be delicious!’

"Yeah? Got it all figured out in your head already?"

The pegasus nodded, and water-flapped her way over to the edge of the pool, finally hooking her forehooves onto the deck as she pressed her belly up against the wall. It took her a second -- and a sniffle or two -- to pull herself together.

She was still breathing heavily, and there was a glossy look in her eyes as she spoke.

"Whenever Pud'... Whenever Huckleberry and I, you know... Whenever we're together, I'm always the one who, um... gets things started."

‘Your fillyfriend's colt doesn't take the initiative?’

‘With a good-looking young country mare like her?’

‘That's tragic!’

Lily put on a sympathetic face, and turned around so that they were both dangling off the edge, facing one of the bath-house room's walls.

After letting that last statement sink in for a moment -- or maybe she was just taking a breather because she'd never revealed this to anypony else -- Sparkshower swallowed and continued on, a little less hesitant.

“And, I mean... It's, uh... It's good, you know? And once we get started, I don't... I don't have to do all the, um... the work."

Well that was good to hear, at least.

Lily nodded, wearing a genuine frown of concern.

"Sometimes, I, um... I tell him... I tell him maybe we could try this, or that, or something... You know, to see if we feel better about it?"

‘Somepony's probably been reading Cosmoponitan.’

Sparkshower really wasn’t as virginal as she looked, was she? She was just less open, and more embarrassed about it.

And she'd probably just had her one coltfriend, too.

"And, um, sometimes he's okay with it, and we do try it, but sometimes he doesn't want to, so we don't."

‘Hmmm…’

"...Sometimes he says he's afraid of hurting me, because he's such a big colt, much bigger than me, and... and I always have to tell him that he won't, that he shouldn't be afraid. But he says he always worries about it while we're, um, making love."

Lily’s spilling-her-heart-out fillyfriend paused, staring aimlessly at the boring white tiles on the far wall. After a minute, Lily pressed her to continue.

"What do you wish would happen?"

Artemis licked her lips again, still staring forwards.

"I wish... I wish..."

Biting her lower lip, she took a deep breath, then shook her head.

"... I wish that when I'd go and visit him at the farm in Berry, he'd escort me to the barn, shut the door, and then roughly throw me backwards onto the hay with... with a savage grunt..."

Her breathing started to get faster, her stare intensifying.

"Then I want him to climb on top of me, so I can feel his big, strong, chest pressing against mine..."

‘Unf.’

“And I want him to hold my hooves down with his, and I'll wrap my feathers around his back, and I don't even want him to say anything, I just want him to treat me like I'm not some fragile little doll, treat me like I'm a mare, a big strong mare who can take whatever he has, and just... and just..."

She had to close her eyes for a moment, and Lily saw her body sway against the pool wall.

"... Give it to me, rough, hard, heavy, and all day long until... until I can't even remember my name."

‘Wow.’

Sparkshower took a moment to wind herself down from that before she glanced up at Lily.

"... Is that too much to ask?"

‘Buck. This is a tough spot she's in.’

Chewing over her words, Lily sighed. "I dunno, Sparkshower... A colt who's having trouble with his daily life... His job, his home, his ambitions, his dreams..." Arching her eyebrows up, she sighed again. “They can have trouble performing in the hay, ya know? The troubles weigh down on their minds. Makes it tough to focus. Hurts their confidence. It can happen to us mares, too."

Sparkshower nodded.

"Yeah, I know... I know..."

Lily shook her head at the tiled wall. "I don't think you can just 'love' your way out of it, Artemis. Maybe you can't even help him solve these things; maybe he's got to fix them on his own, or else he still won't think much of himself."

Artemis sighed again.

"I know... I know..."

‘Damn, this is kinda depressing.’

Lily didn’t want to end this great day on a low note.

Suddenly getting an idea, she reached over and patted Sparkshower on her shoulder, trying to put a smile on her face. "Come on. Let's go rinse off and head to the front desk. You get a discount on your membership if you buy it after a regular-priced visit."

Artemis' face lit up, and she grinned. "Yeah!"

As the pegasus simply pop-flapped her way onto dry land and Lily slowly clambered out, she took a moment to reflect.

Sparkshower's coltfriend was the one who really had problems, not her.

It sucks for her to have to deal with them by association, but you know what? Sometimes the only thing you can do with other ponies and their problems is just leave them alone and wait for them to figure stuff out by themselves.

And there's no place better for that than a nice spa.

Chapter 61

Purity Ebonshield

Huff, puff, huff

'This is -- quite -- a workout!'

The Royal Engineer had spent all of the evening, both before and after the supper, working at his desk. Only when the sky was black and the Moon shone down upon Equestria did he get up and announce that it was time for the physical exercise.

So there First Sergeant Purity Ebonshield was, 'jogging' alongside the Great Lord, having deliberately decided to run rather than fly. With his tall stature giving him a great stride, and his hairless body allowing him great endurance, keeping up with her VIP was quite a challenge.

As he strode confidently onwards, sweating profusely, she was reminded of the early days of her tutelage under the Master of the Shining Stellar Dance, Draxon. She remembered quickly becoming tired galloping alongside him as well.

'¡Maestro!', she protested. 'Why do you make me run on my hooves so?'

The old Master simply looked back at the young batpony, the whiskers of his mustache swaying with each step he took.

'Student, how else wilt thou chase down thy prey, thou who wouldst dance among the shining stars?'

Huffing and puffing, Ebonshield struggled to hustle up beside him, kicking up grey moondust behind her.

'Master, why with the wings that the Mother-of-Stars has, in her wisdom, given us.'

Draxon chuckled as he leaped effortlessly over a small crater.

'Ha! But has the Mother not given us hooves as well? Dost thou propose to ignore these gifts?'

She had needed to go around that same crater, believing herself unable to make the jump without flapping her wings and earning the ire of her Master. For he had decreed that she may hold her wings during the exercise as she pleased, provided that you did not at any point use them to propel herself.

And she was certain he would notice even the slightest flutter.

'No, Master! But, having been blessed with these wings, shall we not find better uses for our hooves instead than treading dust?'

The supreme Master of her school nickered.

'¡Pnnggh-h-h-h-h! Thou wouldst do well to stay thy tongue and keep thy mind to the task before thee...'

Once again launching himself across a deep crater that she was forced to circle around, he shouted at her from above.

'But, I can see that thy questions are as numerous as the stars above. So I will speak only this wisdom:'

Landing on his hooves far ahead of her, he looked back over his shoulder and spoke, still coursing ahead.

'When a Dancer fights, he does so without the shackles of rules and restrictions. Therefore, those who aspire to join the Stars high above had best prepare themselves down to the very bottom of their soles!'

And with that, he had found some new reserve of strength and galloped off, leaving her choking upon his dust.

This had not seemed very enlightening at the time, but later, when she finally caught up with him, sitting calmly atop a small mesa, he invited her to sit. Master Draxon then proceeded to critique every aspect of her running technique:

Trying to lengthen her gait instead of keeping to her natural stride;

Throwing her hooves against the ground in advance of her knees, over-stretching herself;

Keeping her wings held too tightly against her flanks, preventing them from serving to cool her body;

Allowing her head to bob, as if that would propel her forward instead of wasting energy and motion;

And, the worst sin of all, trying to carry on a conversation instead of focusing on the race.

Just then, the Royal Engineer interrupted her reminiscence.

"I've been thinking, Sergeant."

"Yes, Great Lord?"

Her human VIP swallowed in between hurried breaths. "About the combat training. I was wondering if we're going about it the right way."

"If the Great Lord has concerns, his humble servant will gladly hear them."

The two of them quickly hustled around a corner, keeping the main hedge on her left as she used the rose-garden of the Princess of the Sun for a purpose most unintended.

"Well..."

He gulped, then coughed as some spittle went down the wrong way. It was as if the spirit of Draxon was there, punishing her Great Lord for speaking during a run, just as he would switch her with his stick when she disobeyed him. And what did her ephemeral Master have in store for herself for indulging her VIP, hmm?

"Sorry. I meant to say, I *huff* was wondering if we should go straight into fighting with weapons and armor. Shouldn't we start with, like, more basic exercises first?"

Now, this was a sentiment most curious.

When Ebonshield was but an initiate under the Master and his senior estelares, how she thirsted to be allowed the thrill of the true battle, instead of the seemingly pointless exercises and rote individual forms demanded of her instead. Of course, these things had not been pointless at all, serving as the foundation of what was to come later, but that truth was beyond her understanding when she was first initiated. Yet here was her VIP, to whom she had proposed to teach combat in the fullest, and before they had even begun, he expressed the concern that perhaps they were already moving too quickly.

Was he possessed of some wisdom unseen? Ebonshield decided to check. "If the Great Lord would prefer this, this may certainly be arranged."

Grunting as he hustled, step by step, up the long staircase to the terraced central of the rose-garden, the two legs of the Royal Engineer had to work twice as hard as her four. Despite this, he was still close on her heels when she reached the top first.

"I'm not saying I'd necessarily prefer it, Sergeant. I'm just throwing it out there that I'm not desperate to get straight to spears and blades.”

Pausing for a moment, he nodded his head to the right, and they both took off in that direction.

“If I'm going to learn to fight, and I mean to really fight, I'd like to do it properly. So I don't want you to take any shortcuts on my account, even if it means leaving my armor off and doing some boring stuff first."

‘Fascinating!’

How overjoyed her master would have been to receive such a student whose head was already so populated with the wisdom. But then, she also considered that her VIP was a decade or more older than the vast majority of those who appeared at the steps of any of the Temples of the Stars. Still, she could recall a few who entered the School of the Shining Stellar Dance with the knowledge that naturally comes with age, yet without the wisdom or the patience. And a few of them were already trained warriors, having departed another school to learn instead the Dance.

"Of course, Great Lord. Please rest assured that your humble servant shall not allow the appearance of vanity to get in the way of proper training."

As she pondered the source of this apparent wisdom, a thought entered her head.

"But, may I ask, has the Great Lord previously received any kind training in combat?"

A curious smile appeared on the face of the Engineer Royal. "Not unless you count a summer weakly punching air for half-an-hour once a week, as a chubby pre-adolescent, at Master Mike's Midtown Mixed Martial Arts..."

'Master Mike'?

Before Ebonshield could inquire further, he laughed.

“And you shouldn't. So, no, I haven't."

‘Curious.’

"Then may I ask, how do the people of the Great Lord train to fight, to 'really fight'?"

The smile disappeared. "My people don't fight with swords and shields, Sergeant -- not any more, not unless it's for sport. For modern soldiers, physical training is still important, like being able to jog, run, and crawl, all while carrying a heavy load on their backs. And they do a little training in hand-to-hand combat, though it's mostly to build aggressiveness and determination."

Exiting the rose-garden, they both continued to jog back towards the palace.

"My people fight with tools, Sergeant; tools so complex they can take tens of thousands of people hundreds upon hundreds of hours to build. But with these tools, a mere flick of a finger can kill an enemy a mile away -- or worse."

The Great Lord's people were powerful indeed.

There was, however, something about the tone her VIP was using -- it was not just merely exhaustion from running around in the garden. It was a certain seriousness mixed with a kind of sadness. And she felt also as if he was holding something back.

Before she finished processing his statement, the Royal Engineer bounded ahead of her, hustling up to the patio behind his chambers, then coming to a stop.

Doubling over forwards, he placed his hands on his knees, taking several deep breaths. Ebonshield arrived shortly after him, panting as well, with her wings softly beating to clear the heat. There was much humidity in the air tonight, for a mid-spring day, and the sky to the west was beginning to cloud over.

Perhaps the rain could instead wait for tomorrow night?

Alas.

So long as tonight was clear, she would hopefully have success at the clubs once again. Perhaps even see the same colt as this morning! He’d said he would be there. And what a delightful young stud he was...

Ebonshield’s VIP slowly stood up again, exhausted and drenched with sweat, then walked over to the small cocktail-table where he had placed the water jug and two of the glasses from his room. Filling both, he took a deep drink from one even as he handed one to her.

She sat down and refreshed herself, looking up at her VIP. There was something quite attractive about a sweaty colt, panting and tired. She could just imagine gliding back and forth across his slick, steaming-hot body...

‘Hmmm…’

Yes, she definitely must strive to find some companionship tonight. It was not good to leave the appetites unsated.

"When the Great Lord spoke of 'boring stuff,' was there some thing in particular which he had in mind?"

The Royal Engineer sighed and shrugged as she took another sip. "I dunno. Physical exercises in general, I suppose. I guess sparring is out since pony hooves are much stronger than human fists. What about grappling? Do ponies wrestle?"

She lowered the glass. "Ponies do wrestle, Great Lord. However, I should point out that the Great Lord has a significant advantage in such an activity, owing both to his hands and to his greater size, stature, and reach. I think he would quickly find it all too easy to seize a pony opponent and wrestle them into submission."

Ebonshield’s VIP looked at her quizzically. "Isn't that a point in favor of it, then? Shouldn't you teach me to wrestle, first?"

Oh, and how she dearly would like to teach him to wrestle! Just a different kind of wrestling; one not so useful on the battlefield.

"I beg the forgiveness of the Great Lord, but I must point out that any pony trained in combat will be certain to strive most strenuously to keep out of the grasp of any enemy possessed of the hands or the claws. We know that such enemies are most dangerous when they can take hold of us. I do not therefore think grappling will serve in any way as a means to fight in itself."

After flapping her wings to dissipate the unbearable heat build-up at her flanks, she continued.

"Since the Great Lord appears to be in a shape most excellent already, and has expressed a desire to remain an engineer first and foremost, I believe that it may be possible to proceed straightaway with the conducting of the training in his armor and with his weapons."

The Royal Engineer nodded. "All right. And I appreciate the compliment."

With a deep, final breath as he fully recovered from the fast pace of the exercise, he looked up at the stars.

"By the way, Sergeant, where are we going to conduct the training? Are we just going to use the palace's grass fields outdoors? Because we should probably get permission from Her Royal Majesty's landscapers beforehand."

Ebonshield smiled. "We shall not be necessary to disturb the gardeners of the palace, Great Lord. While the Specialist Sparkshower was finding for the Great Lord a blacksmith able to provide him with armaments, his sergeant did secure for him a suitable training ground."

"Oh, good. Where?"

Putting down the glass, she bowed. "If the Great Lord agrees, we shall train in the Grand Hall of Stars, in the Night Guard rookery, underneath Canterlot Mountain."

The Royal Engineer's brow furrowed almost imperceptibly.

"A batpony training ground? Hmm..."

As he took another sip of water, she wondered if he was perhaps not so accepting of her kind as he had previously let on. This would be strange since, as the Mother-of-Stars pointed out, he had not been raised with any sort of prejudice...

“I suppose it might be a good idea if you instructed me in your people's ways first. I don't want to make any gaffes in etiquette while we're there."

‘Ah, clever!’

She bowed again. "The Great Lord is most considerate; certainly his manners are already impeccable, but his humble servant shall certainly make such instructions as are necessary."

Lifting her head, Ebonshield looked him in the eyes. “However, as I have planned for us to use these facilities during the day, when the Night Guard normally rests, we shall not likely have many encounters with the other Children. Beyond, of course, the servants and attendants of the Grand Hall itself."

The Royal Engineer nodded. "Alright... Although, with a name like 'Grand Hall of Stars,' you have me expecting a pretty formal atmosphere, Sergeant. And Her Royal Majesty did effectively ask me to try to help bridge the gap between your kind and the rest of Equestria. I'm not averse to some lessons beforehand."

‘Hrm.’

Despite his casual wording, her VIP was insistent on this point. How much should she tell him? This was, after all, an awkward subject.

She had known how Equestrian society functioned, and in the past five days, had the opportunities many to see things first-hoof as well. And it was known to her that the native society of the Royal Engineer functioned in a way far more similar to that of Equestria than to that of the Moon.

Would he understand what she told him?

Would he become upset?

If she had grown up in Equestrian society, she certainly believed that this would upset her. But then again, Anonymous had displayed a certain kind of patient wisdom. And since she was all but forbidden to lie to him, the question was really only how much to try to hide.

Just then, a cloud passed in front of the moon, and the grey patio stones grew dark. As her eyes opened wide, banishing the shadows that would cloud any other kind of pony's sight, Ebonshield regarded her Engineer Royal.

Despite lacking the iridescent eyes of a batpony, he still looked calmly back at her with wide retinas, as if able to see just as well in the gloom as she could. And, most importantly, completely unafraid of the encroaching shadows.

Suggested background musicMark Morgan & Richard Band - 'Bones of the Night', from 'Planescape: Torment' [1999]
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SWkEKhK2CXs

"Such lessons have not, to my knowledge, ever been given, but since the Great Lord asks, I shall try."

She took a deep breath and tried to find somewhere to begin.

"The first thing that the Great Lord should know is that from the moment we enter the rookery, he shall be a Great Lord no longer."

The Royal Engineer raised an eyebrow, and she carried on. “You are not a warrior, Great Lord, and neither can you claim to be a Priest. Therefore you are beneath both, so, unless you wish to issue a challenge, you must yield completely and utterly to anyone of such ranks."

She did not have to wait long for the inevitable rebuttal.

"My title was given to me by both Princesses. Doesn't that mean something?"

Licking her lips, she continued. "That means a little, yes. Being so recognized, you shall at least not be treated as an outsider, a Shadow. And some of the Children may see you as more than what you appear to be. They may choose to show you respect, but this is not required. Therefore, you must prepare to be disrespected. Although I am sworn to defend you, under the mountain, I shall outrank you. If you see me yield to another pony, you must yield as well. And you should not speak unless I invite you to do so."

"What about the other members of my quaternion? Are they outsiders, too?"

‘Ah! He catches on quickly; very perceptive.’

"They are my comrades-in-arms, my battle-siblings. Therefore they are not Shadows, either, but are Stars as I am."

The Royal Engineer bent over and put his glass down on the low wall that enclosed the patio, then wiped his arm across his sweaty forehead.

"'Shadows' are outsiders, 'Stars' are warriors... These sound like social classes, or even castes, and you mentioned 'priests' distinctly as well. What class do I fall into, if I'm not a Shadow?"

Ebonshield blinked. Her VIP was far more understanding than she’d thought. Perhaps his world was not so homogeneous in its societies. Or, perhaps his people once behaved as her kind still do.

At this point, this would be easiest to tell him everything.

She took a breath and cleared her throat. "As the Moon has five shapes, so there are five ranks among the Children, Great Lord..."

Understanding implicitly that she had more than just a few things to say, the Royal Engineer stepped over to the wall and turned around to sit down, still listening attentively.

"...When the moon is dark, the Shadows cover the land. Those who dwell in the darkness are outcasts, and count among their number outsiders, exiles, those whose work is foul and impure... and, at the very bottom of this darkest pit, anyone not of the Children."

Before she could continue on, her VIP whispered a word.

"Untouchables."

Forgetting her place in Equestria, Ebonshield nodded, rather than bowed. "Yes, Great Lord. A succinct description."

"Go on."

"The slim crescent moon belongs to those who work her thin soil, and so they are called the Dust. They are farmers, miners, laborers, and the failures unworthy of being banished quite so far as the Shadows."

The Royal Engineer nodded silently, and Ebonshield continued.

“A half moon is something greater, as when the moon-dust is collected into something greater, into the Rock. These are those who work with skill; artisans and artists, tradesponies, smiths, tailors, and others."

The clouds blacking out the moon finally passed by, and the white semi-circle shone down upon them both.

"When the moon is stronger still, gibbous and great, she shines in harmonious accordance with the Stars, and calls warriors to her banner. I count myself among their number."

"These classes -- sorry to interrupt again -- are they assigned at birth?"

Ebonshield shook her head. "No, Great Lord. We do not have the concept of 'noble birth' as here in Equestria. A Child's place in society is determined by his profession, and he may change this by his actions or have change forced by circumstance."

"But where does he start?"

Drawing a deep breath, she glanced up respectfully at the almost-full moon.

"He starts where he is taken; when the time is nigh to leave the guardería, the nursery-crèche, the different classes of his House will bid for him, making him different offers and promises based on his apparent value to them. He may accept whichever bid he pleases."

"Houses? This is more involved than just class, isn't it?"

Of course he immediately picked up on that; perhaps she should have left this out.

‘Oh, well.’

She remembered to actually bow this time.

"Yes, Great Lord. But as the distinctions of House are moot outside of the Moon, we need not discuss them at this time. All of the Children who are here in the Rookery have sworn to serve the Mother-of-Stars without regard for their House."

"I see."

Clearing her throat, she completed the lesson. "The final phase is when the moon is full and brightest, and in this brief moment she outshines the Stars and truly takes the center stage in the night. As the League of Stars supported the Mother-of-Stars, so the Lunars are her priests among the Children, and they serve as the guardians of the next generation, as well as the ambassadors and messengers between the Houses of the moon."

The Engineer Royal nodded.

"Shadow, Dust, Rock, Star, and Lunar. And where do I fall?"

Ebonshield inhaled sharply.

"As the Great Lord is an engineer, a worker of fine things, he should number among the Rocks. But if you learn to fight as a warrior should, you may be counted among the Stars. And, because of your endorsement by the Mother-of-Stars, particularly as a kind of ambassador to the Children as a whole, this is also possible that you may be a Lunar..."

She licked her lips. “However, such acknowledgements are normally made by the members of a House. Since the Great Lord is not formally a member, this complicates matters."

"But you belong to one, don't you?"

Ebonshield bowed.

"Sí. And, if the Great Lord wishes, I would gladly endorse him as a Star when I feel this would be appropriate. This would, however, have certain implications that we may discuss at a later date."

There was another option for his class as well, but best not to overwhelm her charge with too much information at once. In any case, despite the obvious similarities he bore to them, this was unlikely that they would welcome him among their number.

The Royal Engineer sighed. "I think I'm getting the idea. A strict hierarchy of social classes, but fairly fluid movement between them. And I'll need to bow and yield to soldiers and priests."

Ebonshield gathered up the two empty glasses and flew over to the water-jug to fill them both back up.

"Neither of which we are likely to encounter during the training, Great Lord. But, yes, you must do this. And you must do likewise with other members of the Rock caste, since, without any specific acknowledgement among their number, you must count yourself as the lowest apprentice."

Her VIP laughed as she hoofed him his glass. "Hah, of course! Well, it's all right. I don't mind kowtowing to bigwigs if that's what's needed to get my work done. I did it when I first arrived here, too -- and I'm still a little uncomfortable with the social promotion I received as a result. I still apply what Chancellor Strings calls an 'oversupply of humility.'"

Ebonshield bowed. "A most practical attitude, Great Lord."

Another shadow passed over the patio as another cloud -- bigger, and puffier this time -- moved in and obscured the moon, covering the whole sky.

‘Yes, there will be rain tomorrow.’

A breeze came sweeping in across the gardens, rustling the trees and shrubs that were just reaching the peak of their efflorescences.

The Royal Engineer took a sip and looked over the grounds. "Looks like we're due for some rain. You might as well call it a night now, Sergeant. I'm going to take a shower and turn in."

She bowed. "Gracias, Great Lord, many thanks. But I will remain at my post until the shift is formally ended."

Corporal Bound had asked that they all not give in to his requests for early dismissal -- at least not for a little while, lest he accidentally make a mistake.

"Sure. Come on, let's get inside before the heavens open up."

'Heavens open up.'

What a curious turn of phrase.

And yet, how appropriate.

With an unusual new sense of appreciation for the wisdom and intelligence of her VIP, Ebonshield entered his chambers behind him, shutting and latching the glass door behind his desk as he trundled off to the washroom.

She was in need of a shower herself, to be sure, but she could wait another hour or two until midnight.

Perhaps the Royal Engineer would have more questions once he emerged from his bath. At the very least, this would give her time to consider what else she should tell him.

As Ebonshield settled in at her post in front of the main doors, she was reminded of something Master Draxon always liked to say.

'A Dancer must not settle into one form; he must adapt and build his own, and let this grow. He must become like water.'

Surely, if she was the first batpony to walk openly in the streets of Canterlot, she was considerably liquid already. However, lubricating the graceful entrance of her VIP into batpony society...

Now, this was a task requiring a fluidity most supreme.

Chapter 62

Honour Bound

It was time for Corporal Bound to turn in. Having spent the last two hours perched on a barstool in the Canterlot Barracks canteen, her plot could stand a trot somewhere further than the washroom.

At least her company for the evening had been conservative with his drink, discouraging her by example from allowing herself to get too sloshed. Drunkenly stumbling her way back to the Palace would really not be a good idea. Especially not with the rain coming down outside.

As the thundershower, whipped up by spring winds, lashed against the canteen's windows, Alex Castlerook, one of the only ponies Honour ever respected in the Royal Guard, sat across the little cocktail table from her, nursing the final dregs of his ale. They’d had a pleasant time swapping stories, but she really ought to be going now.

"I should probably call it a night."

The sergeant -- ‘Sergeant! You could've been one too by now, if you'd put your mind to it!’ -- nodded his head at her.

"Yeah, me too. We've gotta bugler in the 186th who thinks 'e's Princess Celestia, blowin' loud enough to raise the sun, never mind the whole regiment." Already slurring his words slightly, it was apparent that Castlerook was a bit of a lightweight after just five stout pints. Not like Honour, who was still holding it together after eight.

Well, who cares? Drinking alcohol was hardly a skill to boast about, was it?

Buck no it wasn’t, not unless you're some blasted 'shoe fresh out of camp!

"... It was nice to catch up with you, Bound."

She blinked her eyes and nodded.

"Likewise, Castlerook."

Alex tilted his head slightly sideways and played with the handle of his beer-glass, rotating the mug back and forth.

"How'dya feel about doin' this again sometime... Honour?"

First name. They’d stuck with last names, up to that point.

At first, their excuse was because there were a few other NCOs from the 186th in the bar, and he was introducing -- or re-introducing -- her to them when they came by. But now, this close to last call, there was hardly anypony left. No surprise, after a long ride and march up there from Filly'. They were all just tuckered out, and the alcohol sure didn't help. But Castlerook was keeping it together, even if the conversation had been thin. Honour hadn't really contributed much, which was a surprise even to her.

Before she’d left, she donned her red service uniform and dabbed just a hint of makeup on around her eyes. Not that she had any makeup on her -- but Glamerspear did, and she doubted she'd miss the minuscule amount she’d borrowed off her.

What the hay, she could pay her back later if she complained.

But instead of loosening her up and putting her in the mood to socialize, the preparations had just wound her up even tighter than she’d been at dinner. It was so bucking frustrating! Honour was supposed to be there to have a good time -- and she liked Castlerook, damn it! He was a good colt, and a good guardspony, and had been a good friend in the past, too. Even managed to fill in the empty conversation where she’d been quiet. And he hadn't tried to pull any slick moves on her. That invitation to a date had been as casual as it could have been. So why was she feeling so cold now that she was out with him? Was it just the fact that it is 'a date', and she hadn't been on one of those in over a year?

Or was there something else that was stressing her out?

Maybe it's how Castlerook was a reflection of what she could have been. She could have been a sergeant by now, or maybe even made staff sergeant. Celestia knows she had the brains for it, if she could just squish them into order and actually apply them to the task. That'd require her to want to be a sergeant, though.

Well if Honour didn’t want to be a sergeant, then why did it make her feel bad to see Castlerook as one?

‘The Tartarus do you want?’

"...Bound? You okay over there?" Alex reached a hoof across the table and rested it gently on her foreleg.

‘Buck, how long have I been thinking?’

"Sorry... I've..."

She sighed.

"...It's been a long day."

Swallowing, she continued. “But yeah, let's do this again sometime."

‘Buck your apprehensions. Commit now, before you have the chance to say 'no'.’

If she wanted to second-guess herself into misery, there was always tomorrow.

"Alright. I'll have to let you know how the schedulin' goes; might pull a night watch or two."

She lifted her head up and narrowed her eyes. "Night watch? Since when do Royal Guard ponies stand for the Canterlot night shift?"

Alex shrugged. "Since we got orders to do it, I suppose."

"Bullshit. That's been the Night Guard's duty almost since Luna came back."

The Sergeant lifted up his mug and sipped the last dregs of his brew. "I don't know anything more than what I'm told. And you know the rule on this subject: Don't Ask, Don't Tell."

Honour chuckled. "Heh, yeah. Except I didn't ask, but I got told anyways."

Alex's eyes narrowed. "What're you on about?"

Honour should probably shut up.

But she didn’t.

"Got a batpony in my quat'. Got the whole deal on their kind from Her Majesty herself. She thinks my VIP's got it in him to be some kind of ambassador. Damned if I don't believe her, too."

"Yeah?" He shrugged. "You know more than me, then. Hope you didn't spill that into the Underground, though."

She shook her head. "Come on, Alex. I've got more sense than that."

‘The buck are you using his first name for?’

‘The buck are you still talking for?’

Castlerook pushed his mug around some more. "Well, maybe you shouldn't have told me nothin', neither."

‘This bucker talking down to you?’

Just because his plot made Sarge without trying, while she stayed stuck at Corporal due to not trying even harder? Thinks he can boss her around because he outranks her? Invites her on a date, for which she’d have to go and get herself all buckin' tarted up, and he didn’t even have the decency to put a bucking move on her!

‘Oh, buck.’

‘Get a hold of yourself, Honour.’

‘He's more sober than he sounds.’

And maybe she was drunker than she sounded, too.

Honour Bound shook her head, squeezing her eyes shut for a moment to try to clear the haze.

"I gotta get to bed. I've got the morning shift tomorrow."

She tried to get to her hooves, but the ground felt distant beneath her, and she had to keep her forelegs hooked onto the cocktail-table like it was the only thing holding the world up.

"Okay."

After some struggling, she managed to get one hesitant hoof down on the wooden floor, and then the other. Letting go with the other two was enough of a struggle that she felt herself sweating from the exertion. And, with the stress of that physical challenge, combined with everything going through her mind right now, she felt not just a bit of sweat collecting at her brow, but a few tears escaping from her eyes.

Honour had to sit down on the floor for a second to wipe it all away.

As she sat there for far longer than she realized, sniffling and catching her breath, she felt a warm foreleg wrap around her.

“...Hey, hey, hey. Are you okay? C'mon, let me walk you back to the palace."

His steady, warm embrace -- not that it was much of one, it was just the bare minimum -- had her feeling both attracted and disgusted.

‘Won't this colt just come out and buckin'... kiss me or something? Aren't you worth it?’

‘He'd better get his hooves off of you, the damned dirty colt, sizing you up like a piece of meat. Buck off, buddy!’

The contradicting opinions only served to intensify her headache. It's all she could do but to nod weakly in agreement.

"Yeah, let's go."

"Alright, just put one hoof in front of t'other, okay? It's called walking."

‘Bucking…’

‘This colt and his lame-plot jokes.’

Honour couldn’t help but snort in spite of herself. And, as he steadily escorted her out the canteen door, at least he had the decency to chuckle at his own awful attempt at humour.

"It's rainin' pretty hard out there. We'll take the long way 'round, if you can manage it. Safer than risking the slippery roads, I think."

"Sure. I'm not... I'm not that bad. I can stand on my own."

Sure enough, she did, and he withdrew his supporting foreleg. Taking a deep breath, she walked alongside Sergeant Castlerook, trying not to look drunk as she paced the barracks hallways on her way to the Palace. Ordinarily, this long, winding walk -- the direct route across the garden was at least three times faster -- would give her time to think.

But frankly, thinking is the last thing she wanted to do right now.

Honour just wanted to focus on one hoof in front of the other -- it's called walking, or so she’d heard. And she didn’t want anything of what was going through her head earlier to show its ugly face again. Those were thoughts for sober-time.

As much as she tried not to think about Castlerook, though, her thoughts still turned to tomorrow. What was the Royal Engineer going to say when she showed up for duty hungover?

She’ll have disappointed him for the third time.

The first being when she picked the wrong play at Oldstirrup bridge -- what a mess that was.

The second, when she blew up at him over a minor offense and a slip of the tongue -- ‘Should've been shitcanned after that one!’

Except the weird thing was, he didn't think she’d disappointed him very much at all. The buck was with that colt? Couldn't see a failure for what it was?

For what she was?

And this colt, too, for that matter!

‘Well, if he's got any senses left in him, he'll know now, Honour.’

He'll know why she’s still a Corporal, on the slow road to washing out, sticking in the VIP section that most ponies treat as just a quick tourist vacation. No makeup or fancy clothes could cover that up.

Before Honour could wallow much deeper in her misery, she realized she’d already reached her wing of the palace. Her room was just the next door down.

As she approached it, she glanced over at Castlerook. He looked tired, but determined. He gave her a sympathetic look when he noticed her examining him.

She stopped in front of the door, and gulped.

"Well, this is me, here."

Castlerook looked at the door, then back at her. "Okay. You sure you're all right?"

"Nothing some sleep won't cure."

As they looked each other over, the conflicting feelings started to whisper in her mind. Half of her wanted him to lean in for a kiss. She’d grope for the door-handle and pull him in, and lead him over to her bedroom, and then it wouldn’t just be Ebonshield who had some company tonight.

Oh yeah, she could hear something going on in there. Eb was quiet, but whoever she'd got with her sure wasn’t.

The other half of her wanted Castlerook to keep his distance. That part was just about ready to slap him if he tried anything. He knew what her ex did to her. He knew he should take it slow, and let her ease into this. But she wanted it. She wanted something, anything, so badly...

Perhaps seeing the tension and exhaustion in her eyes, Alex just nodded. "See you around, then, Corporal. I'll be on base for at least the next two weeks."

‘You can't let him get away from you like this!’

"Send me a note when you know your schedule."

A warm smile crept onto his face. "I will. Goodnight."

He turned to leave, and she put a hoof on the door-handle, and pushed her way in.

Thank Celestia, nopony else was up -- besides Eb and tonight's lucky colt.

Honour had just enough time to covertly wash the streaky remains of her makeup off and pass out in her bed to still get five or six hours of sleep tonight. But she knew, she knew, that if she had any dreams at all that night, they were going to be the bucked-up ones.

She just hoped that they wouldn’t hit too close to home.

Chapter 63

Honour Bound

Corporal Honour Bound swore to Celestia she’d never drink again.

At least not while meeting old friends. Particularly ones who might become new flames. And especially not ones whose career advancements put her own to shame.

Thankfully, she’d managed to wake up without a hangover. She’d also managed to put the awful, conflicted feelings she’d felt yesterday behind her, but oh, how they’d tortured her dreams that night. Going far beyond merely bizarre, she’d imagined things that were almost impossibly strange.

She was driving the Royal Engineer's automobile; except it wasn't an automobile. It was a flying carriage, somehow also powered by steam. Chasing her was Lieutenant Kilfeather, except he wasn't flying by himself; he was sitting in his own flying carriage, wearing Princess Luna's tiara, and commanding the pegasi pulling him to hurry up and catch her. Except one of them was a minotaur, and even Sparkshower was part of his team at first, though later it was just another pony in heavy armor, and she was flying alongside Honour.

And Anonymous...

Well, he started off sitting next to her, simple enough. But then he was running in the air, the carriage lashed to his back as he pulled it along the sky. Later still, while she’d just turned to glimpse back at her pursuer, he'd become the steam engine itself, pushing the pistons by squatting and standing up again. All while telling her how simple it all was, of course. And then she joined him, working the other piston, too!

Castlerook snuck into the mess somehow, as well. She’d had to stop the carriage to pick up more water and fuel, and he was there -- at some kind of roadside motel in the sky -- wearing a Captain's swank uniform and with Glamerspear fawning all over him.

‘Guh.’

‘What nonsense.’

Why did she always remember the really weird ones?

Having reached the Royal Engineer's chamber doors, Honour Bound knocked and entered when bidden.

"Corporal Bound reporting for duty, sir."

She was stung with an instant sense of deja-vu as she saw Anonymous, By Appointment to Their Majesties Princess Celestia and Princess Luna, Royal Engineer, squatting down in front of the mirror beside the door. And he wasn’t wearing his usual suit, either.

"Good morning, Corporal!"

"Good morning, sir..."

‘Are those dungaree navy slops?’

She tried not to furrow her brow too much, but it was difficult.

"... New outfit?"

With a chipper smile on his face, Honour’s Very Important Pony, who isn't actually a pony, stood up again and adjusted the matching-color belt attached at the waist. It was a set of denim working-pony's overalls.

For a Lord of Equestria?

And not just any Lord, but a high-placed member of the Blue Chamber?!

"Yes! Well, no, actually, I've had them for months -- I just haven't worn them yet. Can you believe I forgot to pull these out yesterday? Why, I ordered them way back when I first started amassing parts to build these steam engines!"

Wearing thick-soled leather work-shoes, he placed his hands on his hips and turned in place, proudly showing off his new outfit.

Honour was no fashion snob like Glamerspear, but... seriously?

"Overalls, sir?"

"Sure! Being a grease-monkey can make things messy, and I don't want to spoil my nice suit."

‘A what-monkey, now?’

Before she could wonder just what kind of simians existed on her VIP's home planet, she noticed the icon on his breast. An embroidered red-on-white patch read 'Royal Engineer' in a cursive font.

Okay, that was kind of cute.

Anonymous reached one hand into a deep side pocket. "Got a hat for it, too!"

The same 'Royal Engineer' patch was on a visored hat that was also made out of denim. Stretching out the elastic band with one hand, he slipped it onto his head. It perfectly completed the ridiculously low-brow outfit. Honestly, he looked ready for a shift at the Fillydelphia docks -- unloading a ship in port, or perhaps working in the yards building one.

But then again, wasn’t that basically what he was doing now?

Building a new kind of ship?

And he certainly looked comfortable in those warm, cozy coveralls. All things considered, it was actually an appropriate outfit for his work at present -- provided he didn't run into a Princess or two with it on. That must mean they were going back to the garage today.

Before she could open her mouth to ask if that was the case, Anonymous grabbed a toolbox full of parts from one of his workbenches, then turned and nodded at her. "Ready for another day in the Royal Garage, Corporal?"

She swallowed. Hopefully it was going to be a ‘working on the automobile’ kind of day, rather than a ‘careening dangerously out of control around the palace grounds’ kind of day.

"Yes, sir."

"That's good to hear; I greatly appreciated your help yesterday." The Royal Engineer smiled warmly at her, then furrowed his brow and put the toolbox down on the ground. "But I have to apologize. This morning, I realized this probably isn't in your job description. And I remembered what you told me on Friday."

That was when they’d reconciled after her outburst. During it, she gave him a low-down on what her duties really entailed. Honour had a pretty good idea of where he was going with this.

"So, please, before we begin: is this acceptable? Using you as a laborer on this project? And asking you to learn how to drive my automobile?"

That was a good question.

Honour narrowed her eyes. "Strictly speaking, sir... Probably not." She sighed. “I can't keep watch for your safety if I'm helping you work on your machine. And I definitely can't keep watch if I'm trying to pilot it, either. So, technically, I'm derelict in the performance of my duties."

He nodded. "I thought that might be true. I don't suppose there's anything we can do about it?"

She shrugged. "I don't know, sir. Believe me, I enjoy helping out more than standing around, but shouldn't you have somepony else for this sort of thing? An assistant? Or two?"

The Royal Engineer sucked on his lips and shoved his hands into his pockets. "You'd think so, wouldn't you? I'm going to have to put together a team very soon, that's for sure, if I'm going to get any real kind of work done..."

After staring reflectively at the wall, he shook his head. “I just don't know where to begin with that. I really don't know that many ponies here, especially not outside of the palace. I have a sneaking suspicion that Her Majesty assigned me bodyguards in an attempt to change that; she and Purse Strings have always been on my case about getting out more and socializing."

Honour started to think about making a suggestion, but he carried on. "Anyways, before I start filing paperwork and interviewing candidates, I really wanted to show off a piece of actual industrial technology. Something to build up some excitement, some real tangible interest. It'll be easier to recruit good ponies that way, I imagine. And, as impressive as it would probably be for me to drive a car around, it's even doubly so if it's a pony who learned it in just a few days."

Clicking his tongue against his teeth, he pulled his hands back out of his pockets, and rested his chin in one hand, supporting it at the elbow with the other. "To be perfectly frank, the real problem is that I want the next step to be setting up an actual workshop and foundry. It's a big ask on the treasury. I think it's the right move, but Her Majesty has, in the past, expressed a desire to take things slowly."

He shrugged. “Which I can appreciate, but if I can show off this brass-construction steam automobile in a few days, then maybe it'll convince her enough to let me take the bigger step forwards that I have in mind."

This was quite a lot to take in at once. This wasn’t just her VIP sharing an immediate concern with her; he was talking about the future of his work.

Work that would change the face of Equestria.

As much as meeting Castlerook last night made Honour feel like an inadequate underachiever, when she was so close to the Royal Engineer's bleeding-edge technological work, she found herself forgetting about her lowly rank and almost nonexistent plans for the future.

And anyways, hadn't it been exciting to learn how to operate his automobile?

Wasn't reading his book interesting, even if a lot of it went over her head?

Was she not engaged when she worked alongside her VIP, examining and repairing his machinery?

She sure was. There was only one answer, then.

Honour looked Anonymous in the eyes. "If you really want me to help you with this, sir, then we can always bring down one of your other guards to be actually on-duty and watching."

The Royal Engineer lifted his eyebrows. "That's allowed? Putting somepony else on-shift just because you're fiddling around with valves and gears with me?"

She nodded. "Yes, sir. And, as I think I've mentioned in the past, it's usually far more interesting being on-duty than simply waiting upstairs on-call, so I doubt anypony would mind it."

The warm smile returned to his face. "Alright, if you think it's acceptable, then I'm all for it. Perhaps Specialist Sparkshower would be best? She'll have an easier time following us in the car, after all."

Honour agreed. "I was just about to suggest her, sir."

"Excellent! I'll wait for you to get back."

Saluting, she turned to leave.

"... And, Corporal, by the way..."

When her VIP called out to her, a hoof already on the door-handle, she turned her head back to him.

"... I really do appreciate your help on this. If you couldn't do this, I don't know who else I'd turn to; it'd be hard to do this with anypony else." He shrugged, with an awkward smile on his face. “We've only known each other for two weeks, but already it feels like we've been through quite a lot. I like to think we have a good working relationship as a result."

Honour smiled. "Yes, sir. I think so, too."

He nodded. "See you in a few minutes, then."

"I'll be right back, sir."

As she pulled the door shut behind her and trotted her way over to the staircase, she had a sort of funny feeling about this. It's not that she was wary of veering out of her comfort zone; far from it. The funny thing was, she didn't mind giving up her Royal Guard duties one bit. And, to be honest, of the four members of her quaternion, was she really the most useful combatant in a fight anymore?

Glamerspear was a hothead, but a war hero with a strange power, if a self-destructive one. Sparkshower, meanwhile, after having beaten 'Joker,' was now an invulnerable, unshakable fortress, who even had the temerity to tell Honour that fighting Kilfeather was the right move -- even though she was the one to have been the most terrified of the fight in the first place! And Ebonshield, whose combat powers Honour had yet to see -- but would probably very soon bear witness to -- had already proven herself to be more level-headed than she was. Plus, who knew what kind of fighter Anonymous himself would prove to be?

In their crowd, she was the odd pony out. Compared to those three ponies and their accomplishments, Honour was just a reasonably strong, reasonably skilled, reasonably experienced, and reasonably clever earth pony. If, perhaps, one with a nasty tendency to second-guess herself...

It seemed altogether fitting that, for this assignment, with her squad-mates, that she should metaphorically ditch her combat armor and don a different outfit instead.

Not that she was going to let her guard down, of course.

Kilfeather was still out there, and he had his backup.

But the next time Honour met him, that now-flightless bastard, she was going to run him right over with Anonymous' self-powered contraption.

Now there was a goal worth training for.

She could already hear the pleasant thump the wheels would make going over him.

Suggested interlude music: Johnny Mercer & The Pied Pipers - Ac-Cent-Tchu-Ate the Positive [1995 Remaster]
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_PCitYll6pA

Chapter 64

Lily Glamerspear

It was good to be back at work.

"By the glory of the Morning Dawn, I hereby relieve you at this post."

Corporal Bound returned Specialist Glamerspear’s greeting.

"By the peace of the Evening Dusk, I stand relieved."

Time for Lily’s evening shift with her VIP, the Royal Engineer of Equestria.

‘How I’ve missed this.’

It was almost strange that she’d been pining for work duty, because while she was off, she’d had her chance to do all the fun stuff she originally entered the VIP service for.

Skipping out on the bulk of stupid morning drills.

Socializing with the upper crust.

Shopping in Canterlot.

All the fun, outside-of-work stuff that, in the VIP service, sometimes became inside-work as well. But, wearing a confident smirk on her face, Lily knew the truth of why she was glad to be back at her post. The unicorn wasn’t really a socialite playmare; that's just her weekend persona. Valiant Kilfeather, the sociopath, was actually right about her; deep down, she enlisted in the Royal Guard because she liked to fight. And even if her assignment right now mostly involved standing around in front of a door, at least there was still the chance of a good battle. With Anonymous as her VIP, it was, apparently, an unusually good chance, too.

Especially considering the batpony Sergeant Ebonshield's plan to train him in combat.

Before Honour could pass Lily and exit the Royal Engineer's chambers, Anonymous spoke up from behind his desk. "Just a moment, Corporal, if you please."

Stopping in her tracks, she stepped back inside and shut the door for privacy.

"Yes, sir?"

The Royal Engineer put down his quill and stood up. "I just wanted to greet Specialist Glamerspear." He smiled and stepped around from behind his desk, walking over to the chamber doors.

Lily snapped to attention and saluted him.

"Specialist, welcome back. It's good to see you on your own four hooves again."

That was considerate of him.

"Thank you, sir."

He held out his hand, and she dropped her salute to shake it with her hoof.

‘Gosh, he's in a friendly mood this evening.’

‘Must have had a good day so far...’ she supposed, uncertainly. A quick glance over at stony-faced Honour told her nothing, though.

"No, thank you, Specialist. It was on my account that you were put in harm's way. I should have said this before, but I'm sorry you took an injury for your troubles."

Lily smirked. "Oh, no, sir, it was no trouble. Anytime you need a fly swatted, I'm your mare."

Anonymous chuckled and nodded. "Aha. Which brings me to a thought I was having earlier, actually. If I might bring up your duel with Lieutenant Kilfeather?"

She cocked an eyebrow. "Yes, sir?"

Anonymous folded his arms across his chest. "You mentioned before that you normally operate in a battery, with a spotter and other gunners. That, of course, wasn't the case when you duelled the Lieutenant."

‘Oh, geez.’ Was he going to chide her for failing to swat Val all by herself? Did Honour or Ebonshield put him up to this? It couldn't have been Sparkshower, that's for sure.

She felt a lump in her throat, and her good cheer from being back at work started to evaporate. "No, sir, it wasn't. But--"

Anonymous continued before she could continue her objections. "Well, it seems to me that your main disadvantage as an anti-air gunner is mobility. Would you agree?"

What was he trying to say? That she was a wide-hipped Pony Other than Grunt who, like every POG, just sat on her fat plot all day? That if she was a little more nimble on her hooves, maybe 'Icepone' wouldn't have had such an easy time juggling her around from position to position?

This is just like the armor-strap incident on Friday! Lily and her plot are both perfectly up to Pony Physical Training standards, damn it!

Unwilling to let herself quite blow up in her VIP's face, she awkwardly thought of how to reply.

"Uhm..."

Anonymous carried right on in spite of her discomfort. "Oh, of course, I forgot also how you can't shoot and shield at the same time. But I assume that's common to every unicorn in the anti-air duties?"

Now that's just not fair, comparing her to the elite AA gunners who could do both at the same time! Yeah, she was a Centurion of the Ram, but she was one of the youngest members on the order's rolls, only a few years into the Guard. She wasn’t some bearded old unicorn who could shoot, shield, and flip three pancakes at the same time!

"... And then there's target acquisition, but then again, that's just the state of sensors and optics, correct?"

'Sensors and optics?’ Was he trying to say that not only was she a fat-assed mare, she was as blind as a bat, too? Just because she couldn’t see a spec two miles away, even with the two-times magnification?

Damn, she hadn’t had a dressing-down this bad since...

Well, not since she’d gotten into that argument with Sparkshower over the Gala shift.

Which was on Tuesday.

So... not even a week ago.

Damn.

The memory of that tantrum, more than anything Anonymous had said so far, and despite it being excusable by the effects of acute manaburn, deflated her even further, and she averted her gaze from the penetrating questions of her imposing VIP.

"Er, it, uh..."

Honour seemed to pick up on Lily’s discomfort.

"Sir, may I ask the reason why you're asking these questions?"

‘Thanks for the save, Corporal.’

Swallowing, she tried to compose herself and look her VIP in the eyes again.

‘He's still smiling, what the buck?’

‘That's just psychotic, smiling while he's laying into somepony like-’

"Oh, well, I was just thinking about practical military applications for the steam-car. I was going to ask Specialist Glamerspear if she would be interested in mobile gunnery training; I think she might find it agrees very well with her training and techniques, and it would make for an interesting demonstration when we show off the vehicle."

‘... Like he wasn't doing at all, apparently, buck! Way to misread your VIP, Glam.’

Anonymous turned to her with a smile, and waved a finger in the air. "I don't know if you've heard yet, but Corporal Bound is shaping up to be quite the driver."

Honour cleared her throat. "I barely avoided that tree this afternoon, sir."

The Royal Engineer grinned. "You did avoid it, though. But let's not have last week's conversation about wrong decisions and right outcomes again."

"Yes, sir."

Lily looked over at Honour, and -- ‘is she tufting a bit out her armor?’

The stoic brown earth pony, who was so down on herself yesterday morning, was showing a bit of pride?

What the heck is going on here? Just what has the Royal Engineer been up to while Lily had been out of it?

"Pardon me, but I'm a little lost here. Steam-car? Tree?"

Her VIP chuckled. "I suppose I did rather get ahead of myself there, didn't I? My apologies. Corporal, perhaps you could best put it in simple terms?"

He looked at Corporal Bound, folding his arms behind his back, and Honour turned to look over at Lily.

"The Royal Engineer's put together a self-powered carriage based on an ordinary dogcart; it runs on lamp oil and water, with a tiller for steering. We first drove it around yesterday while you and Sparkshower were out on the town."

‘What the buck, lamp oil and water can move carriages, now?’

Before Lily could get any deeper into that, the Royal Engineer spoke up, still in good cheer. "Oh, by the way, I hope you enjoyed yourself yesterday. Over lunch today, Specialist Sparkshower gushed about what a good time she'd had."

Well, of course she did! When Lily was out with her marefriends, she always made sure they were having a good time.

"Yes, sir, we got all our shopping done for the gala."

"Ah, yes, that's right. I suppose it's almost time for me to head over for my first fitting at the Bridle Path Clothiers. Should probably be getting a note from them this week."

That should be interesting. He'd made quite the order there.

Just then, there was a knock at the door. Lily glanced at Honour, but the corporal nodded at the unicorn. Bound was, after all, technically relieved of her duties, if not yet formally dismissed by their VIP. The specialist pulled open one of the doors to greet their visitor. A purple pegasus colt with an orange mane was flapping in place in front of the door.

"Message for the Lord Engineer! Have a good day!" Before Lily could say anything, he pressed a card into her hoof and bolted it.

‘Sheesh! These express-messenger ponies are always in a hurry!’

Closing the door and turning back to her VIP, she hoofed him the note. Anonymous took it in two hands and held it up to read it.

"Hum. It seems bronze is easier to work with than wool." He held the card up in the air. "Bronzehorn says my armour's ready for a test fitting."

Corporal Bound nodded. "Tomorrow morning, sir?"

The Royal Engineer looked out the window. It was a nice, sunny day, and there was still quite a lot of light.

"I don't know... Dusk isn't until seven or so now, isn't it? How about we go tonight?"

‘Oh, sweet Celestia.’ First day back on the job, and she was going to have to get stuffed into that Tartarean flying circus again? And she hadn’t even practiced her levitation spells!

"Is Her Majesty's flying carriage still available to you, sir?"

‘Please say no, please say no, please say no…’

"No..."

‘PRAISE THE SUN!’

Anonymous grinned. "But we don't need it anymore. We'll take the steam-car. You need some more time at the helm, after all."

Now it was Honour's turn to gulp. "Yes... sir."

"You'll be able to handle it, Corporal. I can take over if you get worn out. And the car's plenty tough now after the reinforcements we added this morning."

"Yes, sir."

The Royal Engineer checked his pocket-watch, then glanced out the window again. "Maybe it'd be a good idea to pack a tent and some bedrolls, though... just in case anything goes wrong."

Her first day officially back on duty, and it was a potentially-overnight field op to Smellyforge, Nowheresville? Well, Lily could think of worse things.

Just... not many.

The one thing Specialist Lily Glamerspear didn't expect to do this afternoon was climb into a carriage powered by water and lamp-oil, and piloted by Corporal Bound, and proceed to absolutely gallop their way to Newcastle-upon-Mare, with Ebonshield and Sparkshower following above in the sky. Lily also didn't expect that the trip would be so comfortable that she didn't even get carriage-sick.

And she certainly didn't expect to witness the sight of her VIP, Anonymous, stripped down to his skivvies and being strapped into a suit of armor by a towering black minotaur.

Well, not quite being strapped in yet.

"Let me know if anything feels too tight."

So far, Gunther Bronzehorn, the smith, was just fitting him with a padded cloth tunic.

"...Here, the left sleeve's gotten all bunched up, let me unroll it. You don't want it tight or it'll impede motion."

It was a bit amusing seeing the enormous, bipedal cow-person with colossal fingers delicately unfold the fabric, but he managed it with a surprising skill.

"Alright, how does that feel? Move around a bit."

The Royal Engineer twisted his torso back and forth, then squatted down and stood up.

"It seems to fit well. A bit stiff, I suppose. And a bit loose."

Bronzehorn nodded, his huge ivory horns catching the evening light streaking in through the window. Sparkshower, standing beside Lily, didn’t seem to be able to figure out just whom she should stare wide-eyed at -- her nearly-naked VIP, or the big minotaur bull.

"The looseness will disappear once we strap the armor on you. And stiffness will fade a little with use, though you'll need to replace it when it gets too soft -- the stiff fabric will give you better impact resistance." As the smith turned towards a large wooden chest with brass fittings, he continued. “That's not just an ordinary linen weave, it's several layers stiffened up and then glued together. It works well as an underlayment, but for people with less money, it can serve as armour all by itself."

Lily scoffed. "Linen armor? Why even bother?"

Looking back at her even as he opened the case, the minotaur shook his head. "Don't laugh, Specialist. Stiffly-glued linen will easily stop an arrow, and blunt a spear or crossbow bolt, too. It doesn't get as hot as metal in the summer heat, either. Diamond Dogs use padded linen armor almost exclusively, for example."

‘Is he seriously bringing up dirt-dwelling dogs as an example?’

‘They live in caves underground, and not entirely by choice!’

"Yeah, and look where they are now."

Bronzehorn narrowed his eyes and rolled his jaw over, chewing her words as he pointed a fat, black-furred finger in her direction. "Maybe they didn't do so well against Equestria, but next time you're in the Champions' Hall in Canterlot, look up at the frescoes on the ceiling. You'll see armies of ponies in linen armor -- the armies that united the three kinds of ponies and founded this nation."

Lily had been in the Champions' Hall before, and seen the artwork, but she didn't remember seeing what he was describing. But then again, she mostly remembered seeing the epic heroes of legend, and those ponies probably were wearing metal armor.

Meanwhile, the smith hefted open the case -- containing her VIP's actual armor set. "Anyways, there's still pony soldiers wearing linothorax armor on an everyday basis. Not everypony has easy access to bronze."

‘Huh?’

Who couldn't get their hooves on bronze these days?

Corporal Bound beat Lily to the question. "Who? I've never seen armour like that in the Royal Guard."

Still rooting around in the case, the bull pointed a finger back at Ebonshield. "Ask her."

All other eyes in the room -- Glamerspear’s, Sparkshower's, Honour's, and even Anonymous' -- turned towards the batpony, one of only two that Lily had ever met. Compared to her usual nonchalant reactions, this time she seemed to feel the attention.

"This is true, yes. Common soldiers in the Night Guard wear armor made of fabric in this style."

Lily narrowed her eyes. "But you don't."

The Sergeant arched her eyebrow. "I am not a common soldier."

That prompted an eyeroll from Lily.

Sparkshower picked up where the unicorn left off, though. "What about your brother, Marcos?"

Their batpony comrade didn’t miss a beat. "He is not a common soldier, either."

As Sparkshower furrowed her brow in reflection, Honour followed up with the obvious next-question. "Sergeant, are there any 'common' Night Guard soldiers in Equestria?"

Ebonshield shook her head. "In fact, no. They are all still on the moon. Only a select few Night Guard are here."

Bronzehorn stood back up, holding her VIP's true bronze armor, while the batpony looked up at him with her slit eyes. “But even these elites may own such armors for training purposes; I suppose this is how the honorable smith knows of them."

The minotaur grunted noncommittally as he hefted the sizable cuirass of bronze up into the air. "Uh-huh."

Stepping over to Anonymous, he held it up for everyone to see. "Anyways, here's the real deal. Arms up, please, m'Lord."

The Royal Engineer stretched his arms up, and Bronzehorn slowly lowered the cylinder of metal down over his torso. When it came to a rest on his shoulders, the minotaur busied himself making minor adjustments and instructing Anonymous in how to secure the cuirass, blocking Lily’s view, so she glanced over at her heavily-armored pegasister instead.

Artemis was still wearing the standard set of an Armored Corps pony: forty pounds of bronze plate, polished to a shiny reddish-gold hue. Most of that glossy weight was in the form of the horseshoe-shaped croupiere protecting her flanks and plot, with much of the rest allocated to the massive peytral that rendered her chest and shoulders utterly immune to anything short of a scorpion bolt or cannon ball. Compared to those massive pieces, the criniere covering her neck, helmet on her head, and greaves on her legs were almost afterthoughts. It still boggled Lily’s mind that Artemis could fly while loaded down with all that metal, but then again, she was a pretty powerfully-built pegasus.

So, how would their hairless monkey do while wearing Bronzehorn's creation?

As Lily finished her examination of one armored creature, the smith took a step back from Anonymous and she got her first glimpse of another. Their VIP's chest and shoulders were encased in what appeared to be a single solid piece of bronze. Except it wasn’t gold-colored like Sparkshower's -- it was dark; a deep reddish-brown, like bronze for a statue. The waist, and shoulder holes were crimped outwards and lined with overlapping strips of thick black leather, each one riveted with another flat piece of the unusual statue-bronze. Even the neck piece was similarly crimped and fitted with a leather collar, plated with metal.

But it wasn’t all dark -- there were two spirals on his chest, made out of flattened, golden-bronze wire.

As their VIP turned to look himself over in a free-standing mirror, Sparkshower was the first one to speak up.

"Um, excuse me, Mister Bronzehorn?"

The smith kept his eyes on his customer. "Yeah?"

"What are those swirly lines on the chest? Didn't you say you don't do decorations?"

Once again, the minotaur rolled around his jaw, chewing on her words for a few moments. Or maybe it's just that he didn’t want to prejudice his client's first impressions.

But as the seconds went on with Anonymous having said nothing, the smith replied. "Well, Specialist, first of all -- they're not just decorations."

The Royal Engineer turned around to face the room, and Bronzehorn pointed at the golden 'non-decorative' decorations. "Those are reinforcements. The bronze formula I use for the outer facing is very hard but can shatter under heavy blows. The wire helps to keep it together."

Stepping forward, he bent over and made a final adjustment, untangling some of the armored kilt strips that overlapped the wrong way. "Secondly, although I don't decorate my own designs like this, that cuirass isn't one of my own designs. It's an old pattern -- very old, handed down from generation to generation."

The smith stepped back again and stood up tall, putting his massive hands on his hips and nodding austerely at their VIP. "You're wearing armor there that, according to minotaur oral tradition, was originally made in the age of legends, when our kind first emerged from the Divine Labyrinth of Asterion. It's said that back then, there was no land -- only water -- and my people had to fight and topple the ancient titans, creating the earth from their floating corpses. Beginning with the isle of Kaptara, those epic heroes of old eventually made enough land for all the world's creatures to live on."

The imposing smith huffed steam from his nostrils and folded his arms. "That's the creation myth of the minotaurs; you can imagine that for a job like that, slaying mythological beasts big enough to build mountains out of, my ancestors would have needed some serious armor to stand up to the monsters. The story passed down from smith to smith is that, on that ancient first island of Kaptara, after a lot of experimentation and a lot of tragically-killed heroes, one of our kind, Khalkeus, finally figured out the formula by mixing in the blood of one of the newly-fallen titans, creating the Erefloga Panoply, the Black Flame of the Minotaurs. At my wife's suggestion, that's what I've recreated for you."

Somehow, Bronzehorn's telling of that legend made the strange, dark mail look more heroic than a simple encasement of bronze. Instead of her hairless monkey in a tin can, Lily saw instead a stoic noblepony outfitted in armor befitting their stature.

The kind of colt who would -- and did! -- refuse to back down from a challenge.

And the kind of colt Lily was, to be completely honest, a little eager to see in a fight.

Anonymous, rubbing his fingers gently over the spiral designs, bowed his head slightly. "I'm very honored, sir."

Bronzehorn uncrossed his arms and grabbed the next set from the large trunk. "Right, well, if that fits, let's get the rest of it on you. Legs first."

Clutching a pair of two-piece greaves made of the same metal, the smith bent over and strapped them onto the Royal Engineer. The non-articulated front piece covered the front of his leg up to and just past his knee, while the back piece protected just below it, much like Sparkshower's set.

"And here's the bracers."

Those were simpler than the leg armor, being just a single bent piece each that covered just the outside three faces of the Royal Engineer's forearms.

“Next, the gauntlets."

The gloves were of black leather, with a single large piece of the 'Erefloga' bronze on the back of the hand, and smaller pieces covering the first end segments of his fingers.

Lily was getting a very 'warrior of the night' kind of vibe from all this dark-tinted equipment. Maybe it was fitting that he was going to be trained by a batpony. But then again, she didn’t seem to wear much armor at all, while Bronzehorn wasn’t done loading up Anonymous with gear.

"All good? Okay, here's the helmet."

‘Now that's a solid-looking piece of metal.’

Besides the hole for his neck, there was only a curved 'T' shape cut into the front to allow him to look out and breathe. There were no decorations or ornamentations on it either, save for a single small plume holder at the top and slightly towards the rear, currently empty. And when Anonymous fit it over his head, facing away from the window, the overhead lamp-lights cast deep shadows across his face. All Lily could see were his eyeballs and, when he opened his mouth, his teeth.

It was a little intimidating.

‘But then again, that's the idea, isn't it?’

And it was the same thing with Sparkshower when she lowered her visor, too.

Lily glanced down the line at her comrades. Sparkshower seemed to be in awe of the strange, dark metal, her eyes darting all over their armored VIP. Ebonshield's irises kept opening wide and then closing up to slits again as she made what appeared to be an approving inspection. Honour, at the far end, was her typical, inscrutable self.

Bronzehorn leaned over sideways to look their VIP in the eyes, and spoke loudly to get through the helmet now covering his ears. "All good? Everything fits?"

Anonymous rolled his shoulders and raised and lowered his legs, bouncing about in place for a moment. "Yes, everything fits, I think."

The smith nodded. "Good. You'll find the armor can take just about anything sharp with barely a scratch. If you punch somepony with those gloves on, it'll definitely hurt 'em, but let's get you armed properly so you can do some real damage. Here's the shield."

No case for this one; from a heavy sack, Bronzehorn hauled out another piece of blackened metal, handing over a large, round shield. It held a spiral-engraved golden boss in the middle, and four spiral golden-wire 'reinforcement' embellishments evenly spaced around the perimeter.

“Put your forearm in here, then grip this handle with your hand, there you go, you've got it." The smith took a step back and gestured at the Royal Engineer. "Wave it around a bit, see how the weight feels. That's Wyrm's Rosewood serving as the body underneath the bronze; it's a very sturdy wood that won't splinter even if pierced."

Almost like he'd done this before, the Royal Engineer spread his legs slightly fore and aft, and collected his right arm up against his chest, then abruptly started to bash outwards with the shield in his left arm, grunting energetically with each mock blow.

"Hurgh! Huah! Huuh!"

On Lily’s left, she spotted Sergeant Ebonshield as she raised an interested eyebrow, and an eager smile appeared on her face.

Further to her left, she saw Corporal Bound shake her head dismissively. They both knew where they’d recently heard those kinds of sounds before -- and they were slightly higher-pitched, and coming from the batpony's bedroom.

Accompanied by more feminine cries of 'Sí! Sí! Sí!'

Even Sparkshower, glancing back and forth between them, went a little rosy-cheeked.

‘Celestia!’ Not only did Lily get saddled with a nymphomaniac batpony sergeant who didn’t have the decency to get a hotel room for her one-night stands, but Eb was a noisy one who liked to pick noisy colts, too!

After Anonymous had had his fun swinging around his shielded left arm, Bronzehorn clapped his hands. "Good! I like the enthusiasm! The last piece, though, you can't swing around in here -- not without probably unintentionally smashing something, anyways."

Turning around, the minotaur grabbed another chest, long and relatively thin, and flipped open the latches. From it, he produced as strange a weapon as Lily had ever seen. It was basically a mace, sure -- but nothing like the ones she knew. Those were all spiked or flanged or, heck, nothing more than just a rock on the end of a stick. This one was a long wooden rod, with a leather-wrapped handle and a generous handguard, topped by a bizarre, spherical shape. The head was some kind of geometric almost-sphere, symmetrical and pointed all over, each flat face in the shape of a little triangle.

Bronzehorn explained the weapon as he handed it over to their VIP.

“This is an 'Icosapligi,' or 'Twenty Blows' mace. Here, feel the weight -- but keep it steady."

Anonymous took the weapon and waved it slightly in his hand, gauging the heft as he slowly extended and flexed his arm. The mace seemed to agree with him, and he tried to lower it down, before realizing that the handle was far too long for him to simply hold it down at his side. Instead, he gently placed it against his shoulder, its tip almost touching the ceiling, and smiled from behind the darkness of the helmet.

"It's fantastic, sir. I'm simply overwhelmed." Shrugging -- a move which was now accompanied by a gentle clattering of the metal plates hanging off his shoulders -- the Royal Engineer shook his head. “These pieces you've made are so beautiful that I'm almost afraid to wear and wield them in combat lest I mar your work."

At this, Bronzehorn immediately stepped forward and leaned over to jab an imposing finger into their VIP's chestplate. "No! Don't put it on a pedestal!" He prodded Anonymous once more, pressing the black bronze up against Anonymous' flesh. "You take these things and go train, and you get 'em dirty. Get them scuffed! Clang your weapon into your shield! Knock your greaves into the earth! Bang your helmet against the wall! Punch wood with your gauntlets!"

The minotaur leaned back, huffing out steam and towering over the Royal Engineer -- and everyone else in the room. "The only way this equipment can help you is if you make it part of yourself. And the only way to do that is to treat it as if it wasn't there at all."

That wasn’t too far off from how even the Royal Guard taught recruits to get used to the simple segmented armor that everypony wore. Lily had to imagine that Sparkshower had that drilled into her even more forcefully.

Sure enough, she spoke up. "He's right, sir! It's just like Drill Sergeant Tandem always told me: you can polish and care for the armor all you want while it's off you, but once it's on, it's nothing."

Anonymous sighed, nodding. "Of course, of course. I suppose I have a lot to learn." He turned to Ebonshield. "Well, Sergeant, when shall we begin? I'm eager to start."

The batpony gave a polite little bow. "We may start tomorrow morning, if the Great Lord wishes it."

‘Really?’

Anonymous read Lily’s mind, or else she just thought the same as him. "Really? Excellent! Let me get changed and then we'll pile into the car for the trip home! Corporal, why don't you fire up the boiler right now?"

Honour saluted and turned to go. "Yes, sir!"

‘Huh, she's really taking to that contraption.’

Lily hadn’t pictured Honour as being a particularly hooves-on kind of mare, but there she was.

As Bronzehorn helped Anonymous strip back down, he offered some parting words of advice. "Don't push yourself too hard the first time you train. Don't hold back, either, but do give yourself time to get used to the armor. Come back if anything feels off. Come back anyways after you've had a few sessions, so I can make sure it's all holding up."

"Thank you, sir, I will."

The smith glanced over at Lily -- at her behind, in particular. "I can see your quat' knows how to take instructions, so I've got hopes you'll listen, too."

‘Guh!’

‘Everybody's always going on about my plot!’

Chapter 65

Artemis Sparkshower

Suggested background music: Hironobu Kageyama - 'Cha-La Head-Cha-La' [1989]
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pYnLO7MVKno

It was training day today!

Training day for Anonymous, that is!

And that meant all four of them got to spend the morning with him!

Doing exercises, showing off their moves, and maybe even sparring!

Specialist Artemis Sparkshower was so excited, she got up extra early to polish and oil her armor. She’d made sure to wash her caparison the night before -- she’d even starched the collar so that she’d be truly 'parade fresh'! But she wasn't foolish -- she went to breakfast bare-backed to make sure she didn't spoil anything on her outfit. After all, the Royal Engineer had brand new sparkling armor from Mister Bronzehorn.

It was special armor, too!

Made with a secret, ancient minotaur recipe!

All cool and black, with spirally designs.

Gosh, what Artemis would give to be decked out in barding that swank. At least she’d get to try her spear against it, though! And it was a freshly-honed and freshly-sharpened spear, at that.

Ooh, she just couldn’t wait to fly away and begin the day!

Just as soon as the rest of the quaternion got up and going, that is!

‘What’s taking them so long?!’

Glamerspear had at least made it out to breakfast with her, though she didn't seem too happy with the way Artemis had forcefully knocked on her door to get to the chow hall nice and early. It paid off, though; almost nopony was there at 6 AM.

‘Instant access to the omelette station, score!’

And Lily got to use the shower before Corporal Bound and Sergeant Ebonshield woke up.

Honour was off getting some breakfast, and should be back any moment, now. She’d gone in her armor, too!

‘Oh, thundershowers -- hopefully she's careful!’

It wouldn't do at all to show up to the secret, special training cave of the batponies with egg on her armor. Literally!

Oooh, what was it going to be like in there? Would it be all dark? Or extra cold? It was a chilly day out today, after all!

Would the batponies all be asleep on the ceiling, or did they have beds just like the sergeant?

Artemis just couldn’t wait to find out!

"Sparks, for buck's sake, if you keep jumping up and down like that, Anonymous is going to think the sky's falling down on his head."

‘Ooh!’ She’d forgotten he was on the ground floor right beneath their room.

"Oops, sorry!"

As Artemis traded her playful bouncing on the ground for an excited bobbing with her shoulders and knees, swishing her tail and tossing her mane, she glanced around their quarters.

The Sergeant's door was still closed, even though she’d trotted out of the shower almost ten minutes ago! How long did it take her to get ready? Artemis could have her heavy plate on in five!

Sitting casually on the sofa beside the eager pegasus and reading a magazine, her comrade Lily Glamerspear was arrayed for battle. Free of the cold iron spellbinders and the lead energy collar cone, she seemed ready for an intense training session. Lily admitted to Artemis over breakfast that she was looking forward to finally popping off a few shots -- even if they were just tracer rounds against target bull's eyes.

As Artemis continued her excited wobbling, Lily gave her a bit of a look, but it was not so dismissive and tired as the pegasus knew it would be if she were really upset. Artemis just smiled back at her, and the unicorn chuckled amiably before shaking her head, grinning.

"A quiet dancer you ain't, Sparks -- not with all that plate on you."

‘Thundershowers!’ Her armor shouldn't be making particularly much noise, not with all the lubricant she’d slathered on its joints. Was one of the straps loose? She immediately sat down and lifted up her caparison to look the gear over.

Glamerspear leaned over and placed a hoof on her shoulder, raising her eyebrows up at Artemis. "There's nothing wrong with your armour, Sparks. Just stop bouncin' off the walls, that's all."

"Oh... Sorry!"

Lily glanced up at the clock. "Take it easy. There's another fifteen minutes before our shift starts. Plenty of time for the elder half of our quaternion to get back or finish getting ready."

The eager pegasus lightly stomped on the carpeted floor, taking care not to disturb her VIP below. "Yeah... I'm just excited, that's all. I want to get to the training and fighting!"

Lily patted Artemis’ shoulder a couple of times, before turning back to her magazine. "Me too, Artemis, me, too. Remember, I've been cooped up almost since last Tuesday!"

The armored pegasus nodded. "I know! But I was actually thinking more about the others."

Glam lifted an eyebrow, and Artemis started bobbing up and down again.

“I want to see how the Royal Engineer fights! I bet he's super strong! And that mace Bronzehorn made for him looks like it can smash things real good!"

Lily scoffed and returned to her magazine. "Sure, sure. I'll believe a fighting hairless monkey when I see it."

‘Rude!’

Well, Artemis knew what would interest her. Leaning over, she ceased her fidgety motions and lowered her voice. "And we'll get to see how the sergeant fights, too.”

Instantly, Artemis once again had her comrade's full attention.

"Don't tell me you aren't interested in that, Lily."

Glamerspear shot her a glare that was half-angry and half-embarrassed, before she relaxed. "Okay, yeah, I am -- I want to see the batpony fight."

With a big smile, the armored specialist resumed her bobbing. "And that's why I'm so excited to get this started!"

Just then, the door opened, and Corporal Bound trotted in. "Get what started?"

Artemis burst out before she was barely inside. "Get the Royal Engineer's combat training started! Are you all ready, Corporal?"

Honour shut the door, then blinked as she looked Artemis’ bouncing form up and down before she sighed. "Specialist, parade rest."

Instantly, Artemis’ eyes went wide and she stiffly assumed the position. "Yes, Corporal!"

Honour exchanged glances with Glamerspear, who just shrugged.

The corporal turned back to Artemis. "I need you to calm yourself down, Specialist Sparkshower. This isn't going to be a walk in the park."

‘It isn't?’

What could be easier than showing off a little and doing some light training with her Very Important Pony? Even if they weren't actually a pony!

Seeing the confusion on her face, Corporal Bound stepped in closer. "We're going into the batpony rookery today, Sparkshower. Do you know how often Royal Guards venture into that part of Canterlot Mountain?" Artemis shook her head, and Honour continued. “Not often. I don't think more than a dozen or two non-batponies can claim to have been inside. We'll certainly be the lowest-ranking Royal Guardsponies going in there since the Night Guard took up quarters."

So? What did that matter?

Weren’t the Night Guard supposed to be their allies, even if their presence was a big, unspoken secret? And Sergeant Ebonshield has been so friendly!

"But, Corporal--"

Anticipating her objection, Honour cut the pegasus off before she could continue. "Don't make the mistake of thinking every batpony is going to be friendly and accommodating like Sergeant Ebonshield has been." She shook her head in Artemis’ face. "She may be the exception. Princess Luna chose her to represent them to us for a reason. You told me how aggressively her brother behaved, and that was out here, in the palace. From what I've heard, the Night Guard don't take kindly to interlopers on their turf -- even if they're allies, even if they've got authorization, even if they're Blue Chamber bigwigs, and even if they've got an escort."

The Corporal took a step back and took her helmet from where she'd left it on the coffee-table, then began strapping it on. "And even the Sergeant may act differently in there. You need to keep your wits about you, and do exactly as Ebonshield tells us, or you could undo everything the Princess has worked for, understand?"

Her enthusiasm considerably dampened, Artemis nodded. "Yes, Corporal."

Honour took a deep breath, looking the specialist’s deflated, bronze-encased form over. "Maybe I'm wrong about this, but I'd still rather have us all be on our guard than to have carelessness turn this into a disaster." She nodded at Lily, on the sofa. "The same goes for you, Glamerspear."

Their unicorn comrade nodded back. "I got you, Corporal. You won't have any outbursts from me."

Honour finished strapping on her helmet and looked around. "Good. Where's the sergeant?"

Artemis pointed at Ebonshield's bedroom door. "Still getting ready, Corporal."

Just then, the same door opened. A figure in a black cloak backed out of the door, whispering something to somepony inside.

"No, no, no -- you can stay as long as you like, mi amore. I must go now, yes? You sleep, chico." Just then, a hooded head reared up and glanced over at the clock on the wall. In a flash of black cloth, it was back down again and poking into the room. "... It is only ten minutes to eight, querido; you have almost an hour."

With a loud sigh, Glamerspear got to her hooves and trotted over to her bedroom door, pushing it open to get something from inside.

Honour took a step towards her own room as well, then stopped to elbow the pegasus specialist in the shoulder. "Go get your key and shut your bedroom door, Sparkshower -- for safety's sake."

‘Oh, right.’

Probably a smart idea to lock up her personal effects with a strange colt being left behind in their quarters.

A few seconds later, and a few keys twisted in locks and placed in pouches, the three of them -- earth pony, unicorn, and pegasus, stood in the shared living room, facing the hooded form of the batpony, Sergeant Ebonshield.

She was attired almost exactly as her brother Marcos had been when he’d visited last week. Her black cloak stretched almost to the floor, completely covering her from her shoulders to her hind fetlocks. The immense hood seemed to swallow up her crest and poll, hanging menacingly over her brow. What little of her wasn’t obscured by the black fabric -- her muzzle, really -- was strapped down with a leather chanfron.

Clearly, this was the formal attire of the Night Guard. But she hadn’t worn it when she was first introduced to them, and Artemis could clearly see why: shrouded in darkness like this, there was almost no telling their dark-purple sergeant apart from her black-coated brother. Only the little lock of indigo-and-lilac mane, pushed down by the hood, and the teeny bit of it poking out from underneath the cloak, could give her away.

The batpony sergeant bowed before the three of them. "I apologize for the unwelcome intrusion into our chambers; if the locking of your doors was not possible, then I would have chased him out."

As Artemis nodded in acknowledgement, the sergeant lifted her head, and she caught a stark glimpse of Eb’s wide, purple eyes.

"Now, are you three prepared to go into the mountain with our VIP, into the rookery of the Night Guard?"

Glamerspear and Artemis glanced down the line to where Honour was standing at the right end. The position of honor, funny enough; the leader of a platoon is always supposed to be at that end.

Her Corporal spoke up for the rest of the quaternion. "Yes, Sergeant."

Ebonshield nodded.

Suggested background music: Basil Poledouris - "Drive to Jones' Office", from "Robocop" [1987]
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dv2TyOj0guE

"This is not a thing to be done lightly. Before we go, I should like to give a few instructions. Please listen carefully."

Surveying the room to confirm that she had their full attention, Ebonshield continued. "In the rookery, you are not to speak to any of the Children of the Stars -- any of the batponies -- unless given an instruction from me. You may also not speak freely amongst yourselves until I indicate that you are safe to do so. Do you understand?"

The three of them nodded, and the sergeant took a step forward. As her foreleg brushed aside the front of her cloak, Artemis saw that she was wearing one of her strange dagger devices on it, the silvery glint of a blade and a few other pieces of metal catching the morning light, striking a sharp contrast against the shadows of the black leather guard and the straps holding it to her cannon and knee.

"Under the mountain, I am not 'Sergeant Ebonshield,' and you may not address me by my first name. You must address me instead as 'Estelar Ébanoscudo' or 'Estelar Siete,' or simply 'Estelar.' Please let us repeat this now, one by one, for good practice."

She went down the line, starting with Corporal Bound, repeating the three appellations one by one, until Honour spoke them back to her satisfaction.

As Ebonshield continued on with Specialist Glamerspear and Artemis waited her turn, she wondered if the batpony had the same, strange dagger-device on her other legs as well. If so, were they just fancy holsters for daggers to be thrown or wielded in her teeth? And were they all that she had for weapons? She didn't even seem to wear sabots! Just how exactly did she fight?

They were going to find out soon enough...

"Specialist Sparkshower, this is now your turn, please. 'Estelar'."

"Estelar."

"Bueno. 'Estelar Ébanoscudo'."

"Estelar Ébanoscudo."

"Bueno. 'Estelar Siete'."

"Estelar Siete."

"Excellent. You catch on to the pronunciation quickly. Do you speak another language?"

Artemis nodded. "I speak Griffonese, Estelar."

Sergeant Ebonshield licked her lips as she trilled the final letter to her satisfaction. "Good. There are some similarities. This is likely why you can roll the 'r's so well and your comrades cannot."

Taking a step back, she addressed the three of them once more. "Every batpony in the mountain has been trained to speak and understand Equestrian, to varying degrees. Should we become separated for any reason, repeating my rank-name - 'Estelar Ébanoscudo' - or my rank-number, 'Estelar Siete' - should cause us to be reunited without difficulty." She sighed. "I do not expect that we shall become separated, of course. This is merely a precaution."

Honour nodded. "One worth taking."

Ebonshield returned the nod with a short bow. "I am glad that you agree. One more thing -- among the Children, the proper sign of respect is to bow, not to salute. If you see that I bow to anypony under the mountain, then you must bow to them as well, do you understand?"

As they all nodded in acknowledgement, a thought crossed Artemis’ mind. "What about the Royal Engineer? Shouldn't he be told all this as well?"

The ‘Estelar’ glanced in her direction. "I have already given these instructions to our VIP, although I will go over them again for everypony's sake when we reach the entrance. Now, we may go, yes?"

Corporal Bound nodded and moved to take point, but the Sergeant cut her off. "For today, Caporal, I must take point, you understand?"

Honour didn’t look thrilled by it, but she nodded in agreement. "All right."

The cloaked batpony lead the way to the door. "Bueno. Then let us go and fetch our VIP."

Feeling rather considerably more subdued -- though, in truth, no less enthusiastic -- Artemis trotted off behind her black-masked sergeant.

It seemed indeed like Corporal Bound was right; this won't just be a walk in the park.

Chapter 66

Artemis Sparkshower

So far, this had been a walk in the park.

Literally.

In order to get to the batpony rookery inside Canterlot Mountain, Artemis Sparkshower and the rest of the quaternion had to exit the main palace building and walk through not just Princess Celestia's Rose Garden, but the Jubilee hedge maze and the Royal Canterlot Apple Conservatory, too. Of course, there was an actual road they could have taken around the parks, but according to Sergeant Ebonshield, this was the shortest route over ground.

Nopony complained about her choice of directions, especially not with the cold, blustery weather outside. It really felt like a bit of winter's shadow had come back to haunt spring. Just what was the Airborne Weather And Climate Service up to with this weather? Any colder and those AWACS ponies would be ruining the flowers!

The Royal Engineer had been particularly enthusiastic about getting back indoors quickly, since he didn't have any fur underneath his armor. Before setting off, he'd gathered up a great, grey woollen winter-cloak around him as his only real protection from the cold, but every time the wind whipped up, his legs were exposed to the chill. It wasn't so bad in the rose garden, with the neat hedgerow landscaping, and it wasn't an issue at all in the tight confines of the Jubilee maze, but out here in the open among the apple trees, it was clearly rough going for Artemis’ Very Important Pony, who wasn't actually a pony.

She’d tried to help a bit by extending a wing to hold his outerwear in place from behind, but all she had managed was to just hold the fabric against the back of his legs while the wind opened his covering up from the front.

"Lily, can't you do something?"

Artemis’ unicorn comrade, squinting as another gust came roaring through Her Royal Majesty's apple orchard, looked over at her. "Huh?"

The pegasus jerked her head forward at the Royal Engineer, who was leaning into the wind to avoid being blown over backwards. He struggled to hold his cloak with just one hand, while the other was occupied with the mace resting on his shoulder.

"Can't you project a shield against this?"

Still squinting, Glamerspear nodded her head. "Oh, yeah, sure."

In a flash, the chilly blast died down to nothing more than a light breeze, as the entire group was covered by a broad, green translucent dome. Lily's horn was glowing, and she had a sheepish expression on her face.

"...Sorry, sir. I should have done that earlier."

Anonymous looked back and shook some of the dust out of his cloak as Artemis retracted her supporting wing. "It's all right, Specialist. I didn't realize that your shield worked against the wind, or I might've asked for it myself."

The unicorn nodded. "It works against everything, sir -- hooves, spears, rain, cups of water..."

She grinned awkwardly. "... Even ponies lacking a sense of personal space. And it's at your service any time, sir."

From up front, Sergeant Ebonshield looked over her shoulder, adjusting her own cloak from underneath using her wings. "This is a welcome respite, to be sure, but we shall not enjoy the company of your shield for long, Specialist."

She pointed at a small, two-storey building nestled up against the cliff-face in front of her, not twenty yards away.

"Here is the entrance to the rookery."

No longer inhibited by the wind, the whole group hustled towards it at a tidy clip. Corporal Bound nodded Artemis towards the doors, and she charged ahead, briefly taking to the air, to pull open one of the double doors for the quaternion and their VIP.

Once everypony was inside, Artemis dropped back down to the ground and pulled the door shut behind her. Glamerspear's shield fizzled out with a soft 'bzzrrrrt' noise, and they found themselves in what appeared to be a large garden shed with a lofted ceiling. Tool racks with rakes, hoes, and all sorts of other farming implements lined the left wall, while on the other side, nearly-empty apple barrels awaited the fall harvest.

But Artemis couldn’t think of why an otherwise ordinary orchard shed would have a well-kept office set in the middle, and a full squad of Royal Guardsponies on station inside. Unless, of course, it wasn't an ordinary orchard shed after all.

Directly in front of Sergeant Ebonshield was a Royal Guard lieutenant in his service dress, seated at a desk. Beside him, a young corporal, likewise in his service uniform, was seated at a typewriter. Another ten guardsponies were at station in their armor, spears at the ready. Two of them were flanking the doors through which their group had just entered. Two more were guarding a door at the far end of the room, where the back wall was not but the bare mountain face. One of them was on station beside his lieutenant's desk. The final five appeared to have been seated at a low table in front of the apple barrels, playing cards. They must have scrambled for their weapons in a hurry, because one of the chairs was knocked over, and several of the cards were on the floor, too. Every single one of them -- the ten armored guards and the two desk ponies in service uniform -- were wearing a broad, white-painted gorget around their neck, above their ordinary armor. Written in solid black characters was 'MP' in a large print, with 'RUC' in smaller characters underneath.

MP.

Military Ponice.

This was a checkpoint into the rookery, for sure.

Artemis didn't recognize the three-letter acronym, however.

Despite the apparently-sudden interruption, the lieutenant behind the desk -- a youngish-looking unicorn colt -- appeared relaxed. With a dismissive glance towards his unprepared soldiers, he looked Sergeant Ebonshield up and down, then opened a logbook in front of him and picked up a quill with his magical telekinesis, dipping it in a small black inkwell.

"Name?"

Ebonshield answered him as if she'd done this a hundred times already. "Pureza Ébanoscudo."

As the Lieutenant scribbled Eb’s answer into the book, the Corporal began tapping away at the typewriter as well.

"House?"

"Cadena de Vapores."

"Caste?"

"Estrella."

While the Sergeant answered the checkpoint-pony's questions, Artemis looked around some more and saw that there were two more desks with typewriters at them as well, presently unoccupied. Clearly, her own batpony couldn’t be the only one passing through this entrance.

Maybe this was one of the access points for when the Night Guard went on the evening shift at the palace?

With extra staff to handle the processing, there was more than enough room in there for thirty or forty ponies to wait in line, to say nothing of how much more space there might be beyond the inner doors for a lineup deeper inside the mountain.

"Rank?"

"Estelar Siete."

Having finished noting down the Sergeant's essential details in the logbook, the lieutenant paused, placing his hooves together on the table, and waited for the slower-typing Corporal to catch up. With a 'ding' as the typewriter reached the end of the line, his aide-de-camp gave a quick nod, and the Royal Guard officer continued on.

"Sergeant Ebonshield, who are these ponies with you, and where are you taking them?"

He was obviously familiar with their batpony comrade; she hadn’t even mentioned she was a Sergeant, and her black-on-black batpony uniform didn’t have the standard Royal Guard rank insignia either. She's probably also the only one who passes by alone, outside of the regular shift changes.

"Lieutenant Rapid, I am escorting Anonymous, the Engineer Royal of Equestria, to the Grand Hall of Stars, wherein I shall instruct him in the arts martial."

The typewriter resumed its clattering as the Corporal furiously typed away. From beneath her cloak, Ebonshield pointed her wing-tip at Honour, Lily, and Artemis, each in turn.

"Corporal Bound, Specialist Glamerspear, and Specialist Sparkshower are the other three members of his bodyguard quaternion, and are accompanying me."

Even in the dim lighting from the high overhead windows, Artemis caught a silvery flash from her Sergeant's wing. Did she wear metal armor there? Even though her head was protected only by leather?

Strange.

The lieutenant leaned back in his chair and seemed to consider her words while his corporal caught up. When the mechanical clattering stopped, he shook his head.

"Sergeant, you know the rules: no unauthorized visitors to the rookery -- especially not Royal Guards."

"They are not unauthorized, señor Rápido. I have here with me the papers of authorization."

From somewhere underneath her cloak, she pulled out a scroll and hoofed it over. Lieutenant Rapid unrolled it on the table and scrutinized it closely for several minutes.

Artemis glanced around the room again, and found the other guardsponies looking their group over with a mix of curiosity and apprehension. It was pretty obvious from their wariness that a unicorn, earth pony, and pegasus did not commonly enter the rookery in the company of a batpony. Especially not after charging in under the cover of a unicorn's shield dome. And certainly not when they have an alien, bipedal, armed and armored monkey-creature with them.

Eventually, the Lieutenant lifted his eyes from the paper and nodded to their sergeant. "This seems to be in order."

Rolling up the scroll with his telekinesis, he rose to his hind hooves and saluted the Royal Engineer even as he finished tying the scroll's ribbon into a bow.

"My Lord, may I have a word?"

Sergeant Ebonshield took back the scroll and stepped back as their VIP sauntered over to the Lieutenant's little check-in desk.

"Yes, Lieutenant?"

Placing his forehooves back down on the table, Rapid bowed. "My Lord, as the Officer of the Watch for the Orchard Gate entrance to the Night Guard Rookery, it is my duty to inform you that, after you pass through this checkpoint, you will find yourself beyond the powers of the Royal Guard to assist you, should you require aid."

Concealed underneath his helmet, Anonymous' reaction was inscrutable. Perhaps realizing this, he raised one hand and lifted it up, resting the lower tangs of the face-plate against his forehead instead.

"That's a bit foreboding, Lieutenant."

The Lieutenant licked his lips and swallowed. "Yes, my Lord, it is. Has the Sergeant explained to you that your status as a ranking Lord of the Blue Chamber may be considered meaningless amongst her kin?"

Anonymous glanced down at Ebonshield, then nodded. "She has."

The young officer cleared his throat. "Ahem. Then, my Lord, I must ask you to state, for the record, that you enter the rookery of your own free will, with an understanding of the risks involved in such an undertaking."

Their VIP furrowed his brow, adjusting his grip on the heavy mace still leaning against his shoulder. "Just how many ponies have you lost in there, Lieutenant?"

The officer shook his head. "I'm afraid I'm not at liberty to say, my Lord."

Anonymous inhaled sharply. "That's rather cryptic, Lieutenant."

"I'm afraid so, sir."

That immediate obsequious answer seemed to get up Anonymous' nose like horseradish up a pony's, but before he could say anything, Sergeant Ebonshield spoke up.

"Great Lord, the Lieutenant Rápido is under the same restrictions which apply also to your own quaternion -- they are not permitted to ask questions about 'batponies,' and they are not to share what information they do chance to learn, as well."

Anonymous glanced over at the three other members of his escort, and Corporal Bound spoke up. "She's right, sir; it's called Don't Ask, Don't Tell. Until Her Majesty visited us, we couldn't really talk with Sergeant Ebonshield, either."

The Royal Engineer nodded, turning back to Ebonshield. "But the way he's making this sound--"

"This is merely what he has been told to say, Great Lord. The Lieutenant is not permitted to share with you this información of which you inquire. It does not matter that Her Majesty has taken you into her confidence; the Lieutenant Rápido is a most dutiful member of the Royal Guard, and obeys his orders to the letter in this regard."

Artemis saw her glance at the Lieutenant, who, despite his stalwart expression, appeared silently thankful for the explanation that he himself was obviously unable to give.

Anonymous pondered what both of them had said for a moment or two, then licked his lips. "Sergeant, I'm not bound by DADT, am I?"

Ebonshield bowed. "No, Great Lord. You are not in the Royal Guard."

"And you're not bound by DADT with regards to me or the rest of the escort, either?"

She bowed again. "No, Great Lord. The Princess has relieved us of this burden."

The Royal Engineer shifted the mace to the other shoulder and gestured openly with his free hand. "So, how many non-batponies have gotten hurt in the rookery in the past few months?"

Sergeant Ebonshield shrugged. "None, as far as I have heard."

Cocking her head, she grinned. "But then again, as the Lieutenant's well-kept log books would surely tell, the list of those who have gone in is not long."

She lifted an eyebrow. "All the señor teniente is trying to tell you, Great Lord, is that the Royal Guard does not have permission to enter the Rookery, and that even if something unfortunate happens within -- to you, or to any of us -- they may still not have this permission. You must not expect a rescue -- we must none of us expect this."

That was a little unsettling, but Artemis trusted her Sergeant. She was a good pony, and if there was real danger, she believed Eb would have brought it up.

Her VIP listened for a moment, then nodded and looked back at Lieutenant Rapid. "Alright, then. Lieutenant Rapid, let the record show that I enter Canterlot Mountain of my own free will, with an understanding of the risks involved."

With that, the Lieutenant saluted and gave a quick bow. "Yes, m'Lord."

He nodded towards the guards at the back passage.

"Let them through."

As the two guards pushed open the doors, Anonymous stroked his chin with his free hand and carried on. "Out of curiosity, Lieutenant, if the Sergeant hadn't presented that paper, would you have refused me entrance to the rookery?"

Rapid nodded. "Yes, m'Lord."

"Just who can grant passes to enter, then?"

The Lieutenant shook his head. "I'm not at liberty to say, sir. Although my Lord may of course take it as given that Her Majesty Princess Luna has the authority, given the signature on his papers."

Artemis shot a quick glance at Sergeant Ebonshield.

'Princess Luna signed the Sergeant's paper?'

‘When did she go and see the Princess?!'

Unfortunately for Artemis’ curiosity, her VIP didn’t press his questioning any further, and, after bidding Ebonshield to carry on, he pulled down his helmet and faced the watch-officer. "Thank you, Lieutenant. Good day."

"At your service, m'Lord."

Sergeant Ebonshield led the way inwards, but before leaving the orchard-shed-turned-gatepost, she turned and nodded at the Lieutenant, now seated at his desk. "Buenos días, teniente."

The young colt nodded back at her. "Good day, Sergeant."

Finally, they passed into a rocky corridor, and the doors shut behind them.

‘Hailshowers, it's dark in here.’

Dark and damp...

There were small red lights attached to the ceiling, but they were so dim and widely-spaced that they provided very little illumination. Plus, they make all of them look far redder than they’d appear in normal daylight. Regardless, Sergeant Ebonshield led them all onwards. The clattering of three sets of armored hooves, one set of unarmored hooves, and one pair of sandalled feet echoed down the quiet tunnel, which descended at a gentle incline. There was a turn somewhere up ahead, too, so that Artemis couldn’t see the end of it.

Gosh. This was really triggering her natural pegasus claustrophobia. At least it was a wide tunnel -- she could almost stretch her wings wide open in there. And the ceiling's nice and high up, too. Even her tall VIP didn’t have to duck.

As Artemis completed her survey of the corridor, Glamerspear grumbled loud enough to be heard. "Geez, talk about a ball-busting nightclub bouncer; that colt could give the best of them lessons in turning away customers."

From up front, Sergeant Ebonshield replied. "On the contrary, Specialist; I have passed through this checkpoint several times, and I have always found the experience quite simple and pleasant."

Glamerspear snorted, rolling her eyebrows up. "Are you kidding, Sarge? All that bureaucratic busy-work they made you do? You like that?"

"When it is done well, I do not mind. Lieutenant Rapid is one of three officers that I have met coming in and out of the Rookery so far, and they have so far all been diligent and most accommodating."

At that, their unicorn scoffed. "Accommodating? You call that accommodating?"

Ebonshield looked over her shoulder. "Within the boundaries of the orders given to them, yes. And the efficient bureaucracy of the R.U.C. is far more preferable to the chaotic experience which awaits us at the far end of this hallway."

With her unicorn comrade still shocked by disbelief, Artemis spoke up. "What's that, Sergeant?"

She looked forward again, though she caught a look of disgust on her face before she turned. "A crude imitation of what was behind us, hastily erected in response by creatures with little care for order, organization, or efficiency..."

Their night-pony comrade glanced back at the group following her, with a hint of anger in her eyes. "...The counterpart checkpoint run by my people."

Chapter 67

Lily Glamerspear

‘Buck, is it dark in here.’

At least the ground was rough, solid, and dry, so Specialist Lily Glamerspear didn’t feel like she’d slip. And her batpony leader seemed to be able to see just fine. And Lily could see her, so that was good enough to keep going, for now.

Ebonshield turned around to glance at the rest of the group, and Lily could see a reflective shimmer in her pupils, which were open wider than she’d ever seen them before.

"We will reach the guard post soon. Please all to be silent from now on until we reach a place I will call safe to speak again. And leave everything up to me."

Lily nodded, and there was a clattering of armor as the rest of the quaternion -- plus her armored VIP -- nodded as well.

Sparkshower, to her left, clanged her armor a bit harder than the rest as she lept to attention.

'Hmm. Don't most pegasi get claustrophobic about dark, enclosed spaces like this?'

The pegasus seemed to be holding together well. That was good, because who knew what kind of nonsense was waiting for them at the batpony checkpoint?

Eb seemed to think it would be far worse than what they’d been subjected to at the Royal Guard military ponice outpost. That had been bad enough.

Okay, to be fair, it hadn't taken that long. And they hadn't really hassled their group too much. Whatever Princess Luna had written on the scroll seemed to seal the deal.

Lily sighed.

‘Gotta relax, Lily. Keep your cool.’

Especially in a place like this -- a mountain full of alien batponies, who only were let out once a night to watch the palace walls. Her own sergeant's customs and behaviours had been strange enough, and she was probably actually trying really hard to fit in! What would the bats who'd been kept cooped up be like?

The answer must be coming soon, because, as Lily rounded another corner, the tunnel floor leveled off flat, and began to open up so wide that she lost sight of the walls. There was the noise of water dripping into pools, and she caught shadowy glimpses of stalagmites rising up beside her. It must be one of the natural caverns inside the mountain, as opposed to the artificially dug-out tunnel that brought them there.

A blue light off in the distance seemed to be their destination; it was bright enough that it silhouetted the quaternion leaders ahead of her -- and even their VIP ahead and beside her -- in its azure rays.

Lily heard the soft fluttering of wings above her, and a shiver ran down her spine. But then she remembered -- it's a mountain full of bat-ponies; of course they're gonna have some actual bat-bats in there, too. The fluttering grew closer as the party pressed on, and something scratched at the back of Lily’s mind. Something about bats...

‘Hrm, what was it?’

‘There are the ones that eat bugs, which are kinda ugly…’

‘And the ones that eat fruits, which are kinda cute…’

‘Oh!’

Lily remembered now! Even though her bat-pony Sergeant could see well in the dark, actual bats can't, so they make squeaking noises to 'hear' the world around them.

Funny, she didn’t hear any squeaking going on in there...

About when Lily realized she ought to be hearing bat echolocation squeaks, Ebonshield came to an abrupt stop. A second later, and the unicorn was blinded by intense light.

"Guh!"

All around her, she could hear the clattering of armor as everypony else seemed to be likewise affected by the sudden illumination. That flash hurt so much, Lily had to sit down and rub the tears out of her eyes with her hooves.

When she finally managed to open them again, the watery, spiked, cave was fully lit, and their quaternion and VIP were no longer alone. Three batponies stood in the pathway ahead, two of them holding spears at the ready, blocking the way forward. Lily heard a rustle beside her, and realized there were another two batponies beside her, also pointing weapons at them, having silently appeared from behind tall stalagmites.

A batpony ambush!

Lily was about to raise a magic shield, when she glanced up at her leaders and saw that Honour hadn't drawn her spear, and Ebonshield appeared to be calm as well. Frowning, she glanced around some more to get a handle on the situation.

Sparkshower was on her hooves and ready. Having her head encased in bronze and shielded by the vision-slits of her visor probably made her less vulnerable to the batpony’s trick of suddenly turning on the lights. Even their VIP looked to have handled the sudden flash better than Lily had, with the way his helmet closed in around his eyes. Honour, used to the dim lighting of before, was still trying not to squint.

Lily caught another two batponies on the far side, closing in on her and Sparkshower. When she heard hoofsteps behind her, she didn’t doubt that there were another two back there as well.

‘They've got us surrounded, all right!’

‘Nothing to do but wait and see how the sergeant plays this one out…’

The lead batpony ambusher stepped forward, and Ebonshield broke slightly away from their party to meet her. At least Lily thought it was 'her.' Hard to tell under those dark cloaks and their pitch-black leather armor.

When the two batponies were almost snout-to-snout, Lily saw the guard grin. "¿Ah, qué tenemos aquí? ¿Una niña díscola con un grupo de prisioneros?"

Her Sergeant replied calmly, almost in a whisper. "We are in the presence of Equestrians, València. I remind you of the Edict of the Tongues."

That got her a sharp look from the batpony checkpoint guard, who narrowed her eyes and then looked over Lily’s group. "Ay see. How inconsiderrate of mi, to speak in a lenguaj they do not underrstand. Jou will accept mi apologias, jes?"

Her accent was thick and heavy -- though not quite as bad as Eb's brother.

Ebonshield was as still as a statue. "Of course."

The batpony guard, València, gave the slightest of nods as she carried on. "Gracias. But jou understand, Pureza: this only demands the question. Hwo arre dese Equestrians and ah-where arre jou taking them?"

‘So then this definitely is the checkpoint.’

‘No tidy office with logbook and typewriter, here.’ Just an outright ambush by flipping on the lights and dropping down from the ceiling. It seemed like Eb was right about it being less organized than the Royal Guard's MP outpost, at least. Would they be just as unenthusiastic about Lily's VIP & his quaternion coming in?

"The tall one is my student, Anonymous, and the other three are my battle-sisters. I am taking them all to the Grand Hall for training."

València snorted. "Taking this scum to the Grrand Hall? I think that not! Jou know the rrules, Pureza: no Equestrrians in the Rookery!"

Yup, they were just as unenthusiastic.

Sergeant Ebonshield slowly reached a forehoof underneath her cloak. "I have a permit allowing them entry, signed by--"

Before she could present it or finish her sentence, València swatted it away with one hoof, and the scroll ricocheted off a stalagmite to land in front of their VIP. "Do not tink jour trrash hwill allow you to get past me as jou got past the R.U.C.! Jou no are enterring the Rookery with these peaple, Pureza!"

Eb paused for a moment, then continued just as calmly as she did before. "-signed by the Mother-of-Stars herself."

‘Yeah, that oughtta change the mind of this buckin' bat--’

"I do not care who signed your permiso maldito!"

‘Or maybe not.’

The sergeant replied coldly. "I did not think that you would."

There was a flash of anger in the batpony guard's eyes, and if she could shove her snout any closer to Ebonshield’s -- without them touching -- Lily got the sense that she would.

"Hwat did you say??"

Staying frosty, Eb continued. "I said, I did not think that you would care who signed it."

That answer didn’t help the guardpony's mood any. "Jou are right! No me importa! And if it was up to me, jou would not be allowed in alone, either!"

Geez, the spittle flying out of that indignant guard's mouth alone would be enough to make Lily want to put up a shield.

Eb just lifted her eyebrows and raised her neck slightly. "Then I am fortunate that this is not 'up to you.'"

València didn’t seem to have an angry retort to that, and there was a long moment of silence where nobody did anything. Everypony was so still that there wasn’t even the sound of metal armor clanking.

Not to mention, the batponies there seemed to be wearing soft leather.

The better to sneak around in?

Probably.

The same drip-drip-drip of stalactites letting water dribble down from the ceiling above was all Lily could hear -- for the moment, at least.

Finally, after a nearly minute-long stare-down, València nodded in the direction of the tunnel.

"Go back, trraitorr. Turrn arround and leave this place."

‘Traitor??’

‘Huh?’

Eb just shook her head. "No."

"I tell jou, go back -- jou go back! Me cago en tu permiso! Ay am in charge of this frrontier."

Lily’s sergeant leaned forward, until their snouts were almost touching again, and lowered her voice. "You are not 'in charge' of anything, València..."

There was a cracking noise as Ebonshield rolled her neck around to loosen it up, and she heard the shuffling of hooves as the guardponies around her seemed to be unsettled by the sound.

"You know what you are? I will tell you what you are, tu coño sombrío lleno de polvo."

Whatever that last bit was, it pissed the living Tartarus out of the guard. She bared her teeth, and the two batponies behind them took a menacing step forward as if to protect her honor.

Ebonshield didn’t seem to care in the slightest, and leaned in so far that her snout actually forced València back. "You are in my way."

‘Aw, yeah.’

‘You tell 'em, Sarge.’

'Buck these buckers for holding her crew up.' And after Eb went to all the trouble to get a signature from the Princess herself! Didn’t these bucking batponies worship Princess Luna? Didn’t her signature on a document mean anything to them?

Lily started to grin at having the upper hoof, but then she realized something. If things got ugly, there were nine enemies surrounding them. And those are just the ones she could see! Who knew how many more of the leather-winged buckers might be concealed behind the rocky outcroppings? None of her group were really armed, either.

Honour's two spears were folded in half on her back. Yeah, she could whip 'em out pretty fast, but faster than these bats could get on top of her? Sparkshower was probably safe in her armor, but she'd never be able to screw together her longspear while under attack, not with it disassembled into four pieces. At least she wore heavy sabots to fight with. Even her VIP, who had his weapon out, wasn’t fully equipped -- his shield was slung behind him, underneath his cloak, and his armor didn’t cover the entirety of his body.

Was it enough to have faith in their batpony sergeant?

Did she have her weapons ready, somehow?

She could be putting all of their lives at risk if she didn’t...

Lily was the only one out of the three who didn’t need to reach for a physical weapon, but even charging her horn was a visible act that took a second or two -- and those batpony spear-tips were awfully close. It was not so bright in there that nopony would fail to notice the telltale glow from her horn, either.

Although...

One of the exercises Lily had been studying in the 'De Magia Unicornis' book was about establishing and maintaining a secret, low-level draw on magical power; the kind that wouldn't be externally noticeable. With the energy it would let her channel, she’d be one step closer to raising her magical barrier. Maybe it wouldn't be the sturdiest shield ever thrown up to begin with, but it would keep these cloaked Night Guard ponies from striking a first blow.

As the two batpony leaders seemed to be locked in a stare-down contest, Lily decided to give it a try. She took a deep breath, slowly, and tried to let just the tiniest trickle of mana flow into her.

It was tough, resisting the urge to open the floodgates and turn that tiny stream into a torrent.

There was a certain casual pleasure most unicorns took in channeling magic, including Glamerspear among them. For some, it could almost be like a drug.

Well, if it was a 'drug,' Lily had gone cold turkey for almost a week! She should easily be able to manage a little restraint. Especially if she followed the example of her batpony sergeant, who had remained calm and polite until it was clear politeness wasn't going to get her anywhere.

'Calm...'

Lily’s shoulder muscles tensed up and she stifled a gasp as she had to struggle to keep her mana levels low enough to be unnoticed. The magic wanted to flow into her. And a big part of her wanted it to come in, too. But she could keep it out, for now. It helped that all the attention was on the two batponies in their muzzle-to-muzzle showdown.

As Lily struggled to keep her mana levels under tight control, València seemed to be barely keeping her rage from frothing over. "I suggest jou look around jou, Estelar Ébanoscudo: the odds are not in jour fabourr. My twelve hwill easily best jour fibe."

So there were three more bats in the rafters, somewhere.

All the better that Lily was partially-charged and one step closer to raising a shield!

Unless it was a bluff, of course.

There could just be the nine.

Or there could be who knows how many more!

Sergeant Ebonshield grinned. "Do you propose to so casually disregard the Edict of Blood, as you did the Edict of Tongues?"

If the 'Edict of Tongues' basically amounted to 'speak Equestrian around Equestrians,' Lily had to imagine the 'Edict of Blood' was something like 'Don't go killing them, either.'

"It is jou who-"

Their sarge talked right over the indignant border-guard mare. "Pit one estelar against twelve hachadores, València..."

Ebonshield shook her head. "... and only the estelar will remain to tell of who struck first." She grinned again, more widely this time, and with big, wild, eyes. "Will you trust me to stand over your corpse and tell your side of the story?"

València seemed to be considering her response, but Lily’s sergeant didn’t allow her the luxury of time, and raised her voice even louder. "Come, now! Let us dance, you Righteous Hatchets and me! Let us dance, and see upon which group the Mother-of-Stars shall bestow Her favor today!" Still wearing her crazed smile, Ebonshield turned her head left and right to take in the room, then set her eyes back on the scowling guardsmare.

València swallowed, then opened her mouth. "Jou will not get away hwit-"

Once again, Ebonshield shoved her snout forwards, and it's all the other pony could do but to recoil back, almost stumbling backwards over her hooves until she extended her wings to arrest the fall.

"I am getting away with this, because you are moving out of my way this very instant! Or else I will add you and your eleven hachadores to the Guest-book in the Temple of the Shining Stellar Dance!"

Lily had no idea what that was, but even so, she had a pretty good idea what kind of ponies wound up in that 'guest' book. With her final, most blatant threat delivered, the madmare batpony sergeant, breathing heavily, began composing herself, seemingly calming down.

But underneath that big black cloak, who knew? She might just as easily be ready to leap forward and start the fight. It was a tricky piece of clothing. Lily could picture it getting in the way, but as far as concealing first-strike intentions, though...

Heh, it reminded her of being a kid and wrapping her horn up in cloth to play practical jokes with her friends. It didn't matter that the cover somewhat suppressed her ability to channel magic -- she still had enough juice to telekinetically pinch a pony from across the room.

The border guard sensed the hidden truth, too, and took a step back, scowling all the while. With a clenched jaw and fury in her eyes, València moved aside. The two batponies behind her stepped into the stalagmites as well, leaving the way clear for the group to go on.

‘Phew, that's a relief.’

Lily didn’t dare relax her hold on what little mana she had ready, though. Anypony who'd pull a trick like that dark-room/bright-room gag could just as easily be letting them by, only to stab them all in the back later.

Ebonshield took a step forward, and Honour, after passing a concerned glance all around, followed hesitantly after her. Anonymous stepped forward as well, stopping only to scoop up Eb's scroll from the ground. Finally, Sparkshower and Glamerspear brought up the rear, both of them eyeballing the batponies at their flanks. They'd raised their spears, at least, though there was still suspicion in their eyes.

All this trouble just to get a private place to train Anonymous in fighting! It would have been easier to climb into his car and drive around the countryside, looking for a villa with a nice quad that he could just bucking buy for himself. They said bits couldn’t buy happiness, but they sure could purchase privacy.

As Ebonshield strolled past the furious València, the batpony border-guard got one last growled remark in. "There hwill be a day of reckoning, Pureza Ébanoscudo, and jou hwill pay for jour treachery."

The Sergeant just walked right by. "On that day, València Fierropezuña, I will drink a toast in your name with the Guajona."

‘The buck is that?’

Whatever the meaning of that cryptic Parthian shot, Lily made sure she was ready to raise her shield in an instant if the blood-suckers should try anything now that their sergeant was well past them. Step by step, they walked past, leaving them further and further and further behind...

Lily didn’t hear any fluttering of wings or clopping of hooves.

Looks like her Sergeant got them all in, safe and sound. At least, so far.

With a sigh, Lily let the magical energy drop out of her. It was hard work, drawing mana stealthily! She was actually impressed with herself for having managed it. But now that they were past the checkpoint, there was no sense in wearing herself out before they’d even gotten to the training grounds. And now she definitely saw why her batpony Sergeant was so easygoing at the Royal Guard checkpoint.

‘Buck…’

‘Are these damned batponies going to hassle us all on the way out, too?’

‘Better make sure not to wear ourselves out training our VIP up!’

Hopefully it was not a long walk to wherever they were going to be doing that training. This was a big mountain, after all.

Chapter 68

Honour Bound

Things were not working out how Corporal Bound thought they would.

Having to answer questions and getting a stern warning from the Royal Guard Military Ponice -- that, she’d expected. Provided that the batponies had a checkpoint of their own, she’d anticipated difficulties there, too.

But their antagonism towards her squadmate Ebonshield?

Even though she was one of them?

That was unexpected.

Could it possibly have to do with the sergeant’s present assignment? 'València' even called her 'traitor.' She'd only been in their quaternion for eight days! Did they really think serving as an Equestrian Lord's bodyguard was treasonous? It seemed inconceivable that one job could attract such hatred. Especially one that was ordered by Princess Luna!

Or was Ebonshield’s posting the result of some previous betrayal? A kind of ostracism? Then how could Honour explain their refusal to honor the Princess' signature on her authorization papers? From Her Majesty's description of events a thousand years ago, and from the way Eb treated or talked about her 'Mother-of-Stars,' it sounded like Batponies almost literally worshipped the Princess of the Moon. How could they disobey their Goddess?

And how could they hate one of their own for doing as their Goddess told them?

It was not as if she'd been cast out completely -- Honour knew for a fact that Ebonshield had come back to the Rookery several times since taking her posting. She ate most of her meals under the mountain, for certain. Something else must be going on, and Honour decided to pay close attention to how any other 'Children of the Stars' treated her middle-aged sergeant first class, to see if she could suss out any clues from their interactions.

With the ambush-checkpoint now well behind them in the stalagmite room, the passage narrowed down to a red-lit tunnel again, and the group found themselves descending once more. The path spiraled down to the left; it was tough to tell, but it seemed like it was folding back on itself every fifty or so paces.

As they trotted down the long ramp, Honour’s thoughts turned back to the encounter at the inner frontier. It wasn't just the other batponies' behaviour that had surprised her. What her own squadmate had done was almost as shocking, if not even more. Sergeant First Class Ebonshield literally threatened those border-guards with death if they didn't let their group through.

Not just death -- death and a cover-up that would put them at fault for throwing the first kick.

Ebonshield even laid claim to taking on all twelve at once, and boasted that she'd come out on top! What kind of a pony could take on twelve enemy guardsponies all at the same time?

Nopony Honour knew of, that was for sure. A hotshot MXP tournament champion like Kilfeather would struggle if they got ganged up on by five or six other pegasi, even if all they had was basic training at 'shoe camp under their belts. Maybe things would be different in the open skies, where he could put his maneuverability to good use. But in a purely physical contest, there was only so much that skill could do.

Even a skilled unicorn with a good array of spells could maybe take on ten, non-unicorn guards, but in a confined arena, it would be close. That would be with magic, too -- and Honour had no reason to believe Ebonshield could channel mana. Besides, if she somehow had magic, then the twelve against her probably did as well. That would level out the playing field.

One pony against twelve other creatures was another story; Honour herself was walking just in front of a unicorn who was probably responsible for downing dozens, if not hundreds of changelings. But pony-on-pony? On a level playing field?

Outside of the Princesses, the Elements of Harmony, the Founders, and Pillar-ponies like Star Swirl, one had to reach into epic fantasy or ancient history to find warriors that powerful -- and a figure like Star Swirl counted as both. It was, therefore, ridiculous for Ebonshield to claim she could kill them all, without even the help of the rest of the quaternion -- and yet they believed her!

That's what was really outrageous!

The batponies got the drop on them and surrounded them, and seemed to be spoiling for a fight. But Honour’s sergeant said 'I will kill you all unless you move,' and they moved!

Unbelievable!

Of course, it was possible that there weren't really twelve of them. Given that they were on guard duty, it was certainly possible that a few of their number were raw recruits, maybe not even equivalent to a Royal Guardspony out of horseshoe camp. That evened things out. A bigger factor was that if a fight did break out, the batponies would have had to assume that the rest of them would jump in as well.

Honour probably would've been tackled before getting her spear out, but she didn't doubt that the rest of the group would put up a decent fight. If Glamerspear could just get a shield up, then Sparkshower could probably dispatch several of them once she brought that longspear of hers to bear. Even Anonymous, with zero training but with solid bronze armor and a huge weapon, could probably have carried his own weight.

That would leave just two or three for the sergeant, which was perfectly reasonable if she was as skilled a warrior as Honour thought she might be.

Maybe it wasn't an outrageous bluff on Ebonshield's part after all.

Suggested background music: Jerry Goldsmith - 'V'Ger Flyover', from 'Star Trek: The Motion Picture' [1979]
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pSrKEv9s6pw

A light coming from down ahead of them intruded upon Honour’s mental exploration of how their most recent encounter could have played out. There was a noise accompanying it as well...

Wind?

Or running water?

The Sergeant spoke up as she carried on ahead. "We are approaching the Cave of Pillars. Please mind your step; the ground ahead is uneven."

One final twist of the brightening spiral passageway, and all thought of fighting ceased as Honour and everypony else came to an abrupt stop to gape in awe.

"Buck me." Glamerspear couldn’t resist an expletive.

Even Sergeant Ebonshield, who must have seen this all before, paused to allow them to take in the scene.

Honour knew there were caves inside Canterlot mountain -- everypony knew that -- but she’d never imagined any of them looked like this. The spiral passage had deposited them at the edge of a narrow, fifty-hoof cliff, and from it they looked out over a roughly circular cavern that must have been two hundred hooves wide. On the right, a triple waterfall cascaded down from a narrow crack in the ceiling, pouring water into a river that snaked along the cavern floor before it disappeared under a rocky shelf to the left. Above, two huge, spherical iron cages, suspended on black chains from the ceiling, glowed with powerful, white arcane light.

But it was the structure of the place that was really stupefying.

The whole cave -- the walls, the riverbed, the ceiling, even the floor beneath their hooves -- seemed to be made out of thousands upon thousands of small pillars of dark grey stone, each about a hoof or two in diameter, and none of them quite even with their neighbor. Almost as if somepony built this place out of foal's toys... or stacks of paving stones. It made for a striking effect as the light from above reflected off the water below and sent shadows rippling across the zig-zagging surface.

From behind her, Honour heard the Royal Engineer push his helmet back off of his face.

"Hexagonal basalt columns... Canterlot Mountain was once a volcano..."

Suggested reading: Fingal's Cave and Columnar Jointing

The corporal glanced down, and saw that the strange columns making up the ground were six-sided -- mostly. As she looked over the cave once more, she realized that the terrain was so bizarre that she hadn’t even noticed the pony-made structures dotting the cave floor below. There was a little wooden bridge over the river, just downstream from the waterfall cascade. At the far end, where the water disappeared deeper into the mountain, a large metal grate served to stop anypony from falling in.

And there was a batpony down there!

Three of them, even!

Honour stepped forward, mindful of the sheer drop ahead of her and the uneven ground beneath her hooves, and looked down at them. They were all carrying copper buckets and didn’t seem the least bit mindful of her presence, fifty hooves above them and almost twice that far away horizontally. One by one, they filled the buckets from the river and then fluttered off slowly towards one of the far wall's jagged exits. Honour couldn’t make out any noises they might’ve been making over the roar of the waterfalls, but it seemed as if they were chattering amongst themselves.

Such an incredible place -- and it was just the Rookery's communal water-well?

What other wonders did the mountain hold underneath its slopes?

Sergeant Ebonshield beckoned them all along the cliff-face to their right. "Come; we are about to enter the Rookery proper. Please to remain quiet as I have instructed. We shall take the route through the marketplace; it is improbable that it would be busy at this hour."

A batpony marketplace?

Honour was almost too busy watching her step to fathom the sight of what that might look like.

The ledge they were on cut steeply down toward, and behind the waterfall, shielded from above by another cliff that rose out above the one they trod, composed of hundreds of twisting, bent pillars of -- what did the Royal Engineer call it? Basalt?

"Be particularly mindful of your steps here. The water makes the tiles most slippery."

Ebonshield, ever the tour guide, stayed steadily in front of them, still proceeding downwards on her hooves. Honour was surprised Sparkshower hadn't taken to the air yet -- managing such uneven terrain must present a tartarean task in her heavy sabots and confining armor.

As Honour passed the waterfall on her left, its spray washed against her. The columns there were covered in lichen and moss, the exposed rocky areas darkened from the water. Luckily, the hexagonal 'tiles' were each concave at the top, probably from erosion, and that shape compensated a bit for the mist-slicked conditions.

Finally, they reached the base of the cave floor, though the ground was no different there -- thousands upon thousands of interlocking dark hexagonal columns, of irregular height and diameter. It was almost as tough going picking her way across the flat terrain as it was to navigate the edge-ramp. Honour looked back as the rest of her quaternion, and her VIP, picked their way down as well. Sparkshower was indeed struggling, but she'd managed so far. Glamerspear's hooves were glowing with teal energy -- sabot enhancements, probably, to help with her grip.

The mark of a good unicorn soldier -- a really good one, anyways -- wasn't just their ability to perform their signature spells, but an uncanny knack for having the right utility magic for every situation. Honour would have to remind Glamerspear to share with the rest of the quaternion next time, though; the specialist was clearly too used to being in a 'cornfield' regiment composed entirely of self-sufficient unicorns.

With the soles of his feet covered by rough leather sandals, it looked like Anonymous wasn't overly troubled by the climb down, either. He'd probably be better off if his hands were free, though.

‘Hmmm…’

If that mace's shaft was too long for a scabbard at his hip, maybe Bronzehorn could make him something to sling the weapon over his back? Or at least something for one of his bodyguard ponies to carry it in, for him? It was a little unseemly for a Lord to have to schlep around his own mace everywhere, always leaving one hand unavailable. Maybe the Royal Engineer would have the same idea as Honour after navigating the passage on the way back out.

As Ebonshield led the way ahead, the corporal realized they weren’t headed for the sharp vertical cut on the left where the three water-gathering batponies went, but to a larger opening on the right. She said the market wouldn't be busy? Well, if all her kind there in Equestria were nocturnal, owing to having the night shift on the Canterlot Palace walls, then that left passage most probably led to the living quarters. What with it being almost nine o'clock by now, most of the batponies should be almost asleep, besides the ones on a day shift, like the border-guards.

A short, twisty passage led them out from the Cave of Pillars, and the floor changed back from the uneven hexagonal columns to a more comfortable, flattened surface. The walls smoothed out as well, arching gently above their heads. It was obvious that they were back to a pony-made passage once again. The hanging lights from the ceiling, miniature versions of the great illuminating balls from the Cave of Pillars, reinforced that truth.

Sixty or so hooves later -- plus five or six sharp bends -- and the passage opened up into a wide hall. Supported by what looked like natural rock pillars, the ceiling rose up to twenty hooves high -- well-lit once more by the hanging light.

But more importantly, this cave was filled to the brim with pony constructions. Wooden shop stall after wooden shop stall lined the outer wall of what must have been a big oval or circular chamber. Each shop was painted in faint pastel colors, too, giving it a chaotic appearance of a Saddle Arabian bazaar. The stalls were clustered around the room's supporting columns, too, leaving little room to pass in between. There must have been a hundred or so shops in there, of sizes varying from 'barely big enough for a pony to stand behind' to 'large enough for a whole platoon to sleep in.' Nearly all of them were closed, though, with tarpaulin or fabric or wood panels covering up whatever was inside.

There were signs and banners, too, and the letters are familiar to Honour, but the words made no sense.

'Gran Rebaja?’

‘Who is 'Rebaja' and why is her being a grandmother important?’

'Herrero?’

‘Her rear? Surely not.’

'Café'

Well, at least that one translated easily enough, unless she was greatly mistaken. Then again, maybe the batponies didn’t have coffee on the Moon, so they took the Equestrian name -- the Prench name, rather -- for the drink when some entrepreneur opened up a shop in there.

'Horchatería José'

‘Hey, that one's still open!’

The 'Horchatería José' stall consisted of a short counter-top with six stools, two of which were presently occupied. Beside it, there was a little open area with a few tables and chairs as well, all of them empty, with the chairs inverted up on top of the tables.

Clearly, this wasn’t the busy hour.

Inside, a sleepy-looking old batpony colt in a white cloth cap ladled a thick, beige fluid from a large copper canister out into a tall glass cup, then served it to one of the waiting customers, who picked it up and took a drink. It looked kind of like a vanilla milkshake. When the strange drink-server heard the cluttering of hooves, feet, and armor heading towards his stall, he glanced up, and then his mouth dropped open as he stared in wide-eyed astonishment at their group.

The customer still waiting for their drink nodded at him. "¿Oye, José? ¿Que pasa?"

Shaking himself out of his shock, the server stood on his hind hooves, clasped his forehooves together, and bowed his head as Honour’s group just started to pass by.

The two customers glanced over their shoulders, and there was the same reaction on repeat.

First, unconcealed surprise at seeing them all in their presence. Then, they both spun around in their seats and gave the same forehooves-together bow -- to Ebonshield specifically, the corporal noticed. The sergeant didn’t so much as acknowledge their presence, leading them right past.

As she stepped by the late-morning batpony drink stall, Honour heard the crackle of a frying pan, and caught the odor of sizzling eggs.

Some kind of diner?

Maybe that beige drink was alcoholic, like a cream liqueur?

Strange thing to be having before bedtime if so.

It was something to ask about later -- to be added to the bottom of the rapidly-accumulating pile of questions Honour had for her batpony comrade.

Unfortunately for the corporal’s curiosity, no more of the stalls along the way seemed to be open, and Sergeant Ebonshield was bee-lining for a passageway out of the shuttered market. Honour would love to go back there when things were open, though. It was so strange, and yet so strangely familiar. Going to Manehattan or Los Pegasus or Vanhoover -- they were on opposite sides of the continent, and yet the culture was so similar she could swear she’d barely changed places at all. She should know; she’d visited all three with past VIPs. But right here in Canterlot was a colony of ponies who'd been severed from Equestria for a thousand years, transformed into strange hybrid creatures by magical powers, and forced to live on a barren and alien world. Just what had they come up with in all that time?

Honour glanced back up at Anonymous, looking to see her VIP's reaction to this strange underground journey. He seemed to be just as intrigued by everything as she was, even looking back at the shocked customers of the 'Horchatería José' stall. When he finally faced forward again, he saw her looking back at him, and he tilted his head inquisitively, silently asking her if she had any idea of what was going on there.

She had to shake her head and shrug her shoulders; she really didn't.

Ebonshield led them into another tunnel, more dimly-lit than the last one, with its lanterns more widely-spaced. It was wide and open, though, easily big enough for five ponies to pass side by side. There were junctions, too -- they quickly came to a four-way cross, which they headed straight through.

Up ahead, a T-junction forked off to the left, and again they ignored it. A few dozen yards later, the tunnel took a bend to the right and they came to another four-way. This time, Ebonshield led them to the right, and the tunnel narrowed down until only two ponies could pass abreast.

The materials changed, too -- no longer the smooth dark grey stone seen so far; now everything was brown and pitted. It was almost sandy. The long hallway -- it must have been a hallway, for there were dozens of passages off to either side, each of them with a cloth curtain covering the entrance, and Honour could hear faint snores coming from one or two of them -- seemed to stop up ahead at a brown-colored dead end.

But when they finally reached that end, Honour realized the passage simply split to go around a single, large slab of lighter-colored rock.

And on that slab was painted a great white symbol which needed no translation.

An upwards-facing crescent moon -- practically the same as Princess Luna's cutie mark -- was supported from beneath by seven small, eight-pointed stars, which embraced a single large, bulbous-tipped, eight-pointed star within what would be the shadowed part of the moon. And their Sergeant was a 'Stellar Seven,' out of eight ranks, so that made things pretty obvious...

Ebonshield led them around the wall to the right, and the passage chicaned back to the left, joining up with the other side just as Honour thought. Just a few steps later, and she found herself about to enter yet another one of the Rookery's majestic rooms.

Their batpony guide stopped just at the threshold.

"We have reached our destination..."

She turned her head.

"... Welcome to the Grand Hall of Stars."

Chapter 69

Artemis Sparkshower

Lieutenant Violetta was absolutely right the other day.

There was no indoor facility in Canterlot anything like this.

After passing a beautifully-painted white moon-and-stars symbol, the uncomfortably tight corridor Artemis had been just inside opened up into an enormous, circular hall with a colossal peaked dome ceiling towering above. Hurricanes, even she had enough room to fly around in there! Heavy armor and all!

The centrepiece of the room was a huge round sand pit on a raised platform, easily a hundred hooves in diameter. That must be the actual combat arena. There was a small lip at the edge to hold the sand in, surrounding about a ten-hoof wide rim, before the floor dropped into a trench or moat that was a good twenty hooves wide and maybe four or five hooves deep. After that, a thirty-hoof-wide outer ring encompassed the trench, rising slightly higher up than the arena floor.

Then it was just the oblong domed roof, painted in a darkish blue but covered in white specks and with a broad, grey band. It was the night sky -- appropriate, for the Night Guard.

But despite the darkish roof, it was very bright in the cavernous space. There were magical lamps in the ceiling, around the outer walls, and even some mounted on small braziers at the inner edge of the outer ring.

Artemis, her quaternion, and their VIP were all standing at what appeared to be the only entrance to this arena, at the outer edge, with a staircase descending down into the trench just ahead. After just a brief pause to introduce the room, Ebonshield immediately headed towards the steps, and the rest of the group followed.

Down in the pit ahead, two black-clad batponies were slowly making their way through the air above the sand pit, dragging wicker rugs back and forth behind them, grooming the surface of the arena. Beyond them, up on the outer ring, were a dozen of their fellows, dressed in colorful vests and conical caps, lounging amidst a collection of large, equally colorful cushions. A cloth canopy in a very bold shade of red framed a small, raised platform at the back of their section and a covered wooden stand -- like a tall gazebo -- closer to the inner rim. It wasn’t an exclusive area; the upper ring boasted an assortment of cushions, chairs, benches, and the like, with rugs scattered and layered to make a more comfortable surface over the stony floor. The canopy covered gazebo, however, was unique.

As Ebonshield led them into the trench, Artemis could see that it wasn’t empty down there, either. Curved wooden benches lined much of the outer trench wall.

Seating for spectators? Or maybe just for the next soldiers in line for the pit, if this really was normally a Night Guard training facility. There were weapons-racks, too, boasting all kinds of spears and other polearms, as well as some things she didn’t recognize.

Over on the right, a covered storage area had been cut out from underneath a portion of the outer ring, supported by pillars, and the pegasus could see a number of wicker and burlap figures, some of them criss-crossed with stitches.

Training dummies!

Once Artemis stepped into the trench proper, she could see two more staircases leading back up to the outer ring, evenly spaced around the pit. There was a small alcove next to each of one them -- hers, included -- with a small faucet, showerhead, and drain.

For rinsing the sand off after training, she supposed.

One of the sand-grooming batponies noticed the group’s arrival, and hissed sharply at their comrade to get their attention. Both of them immediately fluttered their way over to the storage room, landing and unhitching the wicker-carpet 'rakes' from themselves.

Ebonshield led Artemis and the others in their direction, but before they could reach the storage room, the two batponies hustled towards them and then threw themselves down on their forelegs before Sergeant Ebonshield, kowtowing to her as they faced the ground.

Their batpony sergeant came to a halt and looked over the prostrate figures. "All is prepared?"

The groomer on the right -- a purplish-brown mare with a black mane, who looked like she was just a teenager -- immediately replied, her face still buried against the stone floor. "Sí, Siete. All is prepared."

The Sergeant nodded, though she doubted if the two servant-ponies could even see. "Good. Bring out one of the targets for the stabbing and one for the hitting."

This time, both of them popped up and then bowed down again, answering in unison.

"As you ordain, Siete!"
"As you ordain, Siete!"

With a nod from the sergeant, the two attendants scurried off towards the storage-room, hustling their way to colt-handle a pair of dummies out and then up into the sandpit.

Ebonshield shook her head to throw back her hood, her back-combed mane almost instantly popping out and up, before turning to face the rest of them. "We are private here now, and you may speak freely among yourselves or with me. You may rest yourselves on the bench for a moment while I speak with the director before we begin."

‘The director?’

She must have meant one of the ponies in the group at the back, up on the outer ring.

A master of ceremonies, maybe?

Or some kind of Night Guard drill-sergeant?

As Ebonshield walked upstairs and their VIP undid his wool cloak, Glamerspear stepped over and leaned in towards Artemis, whispering. "What do you make of this crazy trip so far, Sparks?"

Artemis glanced up at the painted star-scape ceiling and shook her head. "I don't know, Lily. It's a lot to take in at once."

Lily’s helmet rattled as she nodded while adjusting the strap. "No kidding. I've got a bunch of questions, and I'm sure I'm not the only one."

Swallowing, the pegasus sat down and grabbed the other three pieces of spear off of her back and started to screw them together. "I suppose they'll have to wait until after we get back to Canterlot."

Glamerspear squinted at her. "Back to Canterlot? We're still in Canterlot. We left the Royal Engineer's office at eight and it can't even be nine o'clock yet."

Artemis nodded. "I know. It's just that it doesn't feel like Canterlot any more."

Glamerspear finished adjusting her gear and put her hooves back down on the floor, and took a glance around the room. "Yeah, you can say that again."

With the top two pieces put together and the locking screw engaged, the armored pegasus started to attach the final heavy base of her long bronze pole-arm.

A few hooves away, the Royal Engineer had folded his cloak up and set it down on one of the benches, sitting down next to it to re-lace his sandals.

Corporal Bound had one of her javelins out already -- hers just snapped together, instead of being fastened -- and was carefully watching as the two sandpit-attendants hoisted a wicker pony up onto the training field. By the time they got it and the canvas-wrapped one up as well, Ebonshield had returned from her visit with the 'director' and their VIP had strapped on his shield.

‘Well, this is it.’

The sergeant smiled as she looked over the four of them. "Everypony is ready to begin? Excellent; let us ascend to the stage." From underneath her cloak, which for some strange reason she still hadn’t removed, Eb beat her wings and leapt up to the sandpit in a single, swift bound.

‘Is that the only way up there...?’

It was only a five-hoof wall, but that was still quite a task for a unicorn or earth pony.

Artemis extended her wings and looked hesitantly over at Honour and Glamerspear. Anonymous had already stepped up to the edge, and he placed his shield and weapon up on the rim before shoving himself up on his arms and throwing his legs up and to the side with a loud grunt. Moments later, he was up there too, patting sand off of his hands and picking up his equipment.

Frowning, Corporal Bound headed towards the edge as well, folding her javelin back up and placing it on her back. Crouching a few hooves away, she hunched her shoulders down and then, with a shout, surged up, kicking herself into the air like a goat on a mountaintop, landing awkwardly with three hooves on the dais -- the fourth one kicked at air, and she almost slipped back off before righting herself.

With a quick shake of her head, Glamerspear stepped over as well. "What, no stairs? Okay, fine, make me work for it."

'Working for it,' for the unicorn, consisted of her conjuring four of her shimmering teal spears in front of her -- two of them at knee height, and the other two at head-height. Using those floating, incorporeal weapons as stairs, she quickly clambered up to the arena as well.

So much for a five-hoof climb being difficult to manage! Artemis was the only other one who could fly, and she was still down in the pit! With a quick jog around the edge to gain some speed, she spread her wings and flapped to get up to height, then banked over to land in a line with the rest of her group on the brown, rocky outer rim.

Sergeant Ebonshield was standing in the sandpit, facing the Royal Engineer, with Honour and Glamerspear sitting on his left and Artemis settling in on his right. The batpony, with the two sandpit attendants standing behind her, each one beside a test dummy, nodded and looked around the room.

"Great Lord, I welcome you to the arena of the Grand Hall of Stars." Returning her gaze to their VIP, she continued. “To learn how to defend yourself against a pony combatant, it would help, I think, if you first saw the manner actual of their fighting. Therefore I propose that we begin with having the members of your quaternion demonstrate their skills here before you."

Anonymous nodded. "Seems reasonable. Although I did catch some of their moves during the fight at Newstirrup Bridge."

Ebonshield grinned. "True. But with three fights at once, the opportunities for viewing must have been most limited. And these duels were, shall we say, out of the ordinary, yes?"

Artemis’ certainly was -- she spent almost all of it just trying to fly away. And Honour's was, too -- she asked to fight without equipment and armor. Only Glamerspear's duel could be called ordinary, although how it ended was anything but.

The Royal Engineer nodded, smiling. "Fair enough. Who's first?"

Ebonshield looked over at the pegasus. "Let us begin with the soldier the most junior -- Specialist Sparkshower, if you would please to take to the air, and perform the famous lancing charge against the target of wicker?"

Artemis nodded sharply, clanging her bascinet helmet shut. "Yes, Sergeant!"

"One moment before you begin, Specialist." Ebonshield turned around and looked over at the occupied section of the outer rim, where the dozen colorfully-dressed batponies had now appeared. And they were carrying musical instruments!

"Among the Children, it is traditional for such trainings to be accompanied by the music, to invigorate the spirit. Director! Some music, if you please?"

One of the batpony musicians, sitting around a large circular wooden drum, craned his neck up and squinted down at her.

"¿Qué?"

Ebonshield sighed, then shouted back at him. "¡La música, maestro, por favor!"

"Ah, sí."

Apparently, the music-director didn’t have a very good grasp of Equestrian.

Turning to his comrades in the ensemble, he gave a quick nod. "Uno, dos, tres."

After what appeared to have been a count-in, he led them into a processional piece centering around a slow drum-beat. When a few bars went by and it still kept to its leisurely tempo, Sergeant Ebonshield sighed and shook her head.

"No, no, no..."

The music jerked haltingly to a stop, until the music-director ended his drumming.

“We need music with the energy and the vigor!"

Once again, the lead drummer arched his eyebrows in confusion. "¿Qué?"

Frustrated at having to speak in the batpony language with the monosyllabic conductor, or perhaps taking out the frustrations of the journey so far on him, Ebonshield sat down and Artemis saw her gesture energetically with her forehooves at the orchestra.

"¡Una composición 'vivace,' por favor!"

"¿Qué?"

Ebonshield shook her head, and gestured even more expansively. "¡Animada, viva, rápida!"

"Ah. Sí."

With a friendly smile as if he understood her perfectly, the music-director gestured a hoof at his comrades, mentioned a few words Artemis couldn’t make out, and counted them in once more.

This time, the beat was much quicker and energetic, opening with two guitars and a fast snare drum beat, and quickly joined by some horns as well as a number of other assorted percussion instruments.

Recommended background music: Bill Elm & Woody Jackson - 'Triggernometry', from 'Red Dead Redemption' [2010]
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tg-yC0xcI9s

The sergeant was right -- it was invigorating.

With a smile, Ebonshield bowed to the musical ensemble and nodded at the two batpony attendants, who quickly hustled the wicker target into the center of the arena, then retired back down to the trench floor.

After a brief check of her equipment, Artemis took two steps and then leaped into the air, flapping her wings to gain height as she circled counter-clockwise above the arena. There was enough room in the cave for her to circle around easily enough, but it wasn’t quite big enough to allow her to reach her maximum dive speed in there -- not with the sharp turn she’d need to make to begin the attack run. That was all right, though; it should still be fast enough to be impressive.

When she reached an altitude of about fifty hooves, and the conical ceiling started to cramp her maneuvering, she glanced left and waited until her final turn would show her right side -- her weapon-side -- to the spectators. Then she went into a dive, hooking her spear against her rear hooves, gripping it tightly with her right hoof, and tucking her wings in a bit to gain speed while still having control.

The sand pit hurtled towards Artemis, and when she gauged that the dive was half done, she extended her wings once again to convert that downward speed into forward momentum. She pulled off the classical dive-bomb armored charge without a hitch -- a maneuver she’d practiced hundreds of times before -- and in the blink of an eye, she hurtled past the crowd and her spear slammed into the wicker dummy.

The bronze weapon pierced straight through, and the harpooned target slammed against the pegasus’ peytral, thudding into her with far more considerable force than she expected. As the momentum of her armored body picked the heavy object up off the ground, she flapped her wings and tipped her spear down, taking to the sky again even as she dropped the target down into the trench.

One simple banked turn later, and Artemis landed right back where she started.

Anonymous, having put down his equipment, was giving her a polite golf-clap, and she lifted her bascinet cover up again, panting a bit from the exertion, to smile at her VIP.

While the two sandpit attendants fetched the target from where Artemis had deposited it in the trench, Ebonshield nodded at her. "Excellent form, Specialist. Did you observe this carefully, Great Lord?"

The Royal Engineer stopped clapping, placing his hands on the crimped hips of his blackened bronze armor. "I think I had a good look, yes."

"And you observed the force with which the Specialist impacted upon the target, yes?"

The pegasus’ VIP grinned in her direction. "Heh, I certainly did. I'm not looking forward to being on the receiving end of that."

Eb’s lip curled up in a slight grin. "Indeed no, Great Lord. Although made of wicker, these targets are weighted to simulate an average pony's weight. With the velocity that the Specialist Sparkshower gathered during her charge, you can see she was able to not just pierce straight through it, but also to lift it up into the sky."

‘So these are weighted targets, after all?’

That explained why the attendants seemed to struggle to move them around, and why it seemed to really slow Artemis’ charge when her chest slammed into it.

The Royal Engineer nodded. "I saw. I'm guessing that to withstand an attack like that, I'm going to need to use my shield and not just trust in my armor."

Ebonshield’s grin widened. "Precisely. We shall conduct exercises in defending against such attacks later. But I note also that the Specialist Sparkshower is distinct from the ordinary pegasus soldier in the weight and the size of her weapon, and the heaviness of her armor, and the fact that she has been trained not to break away but to fly straight through her target, the better to allow her great inertia to inflict the damage also."

Everything Eb said was absolutely true. Any pegasus short of a lightly-armed Air Superiority flyer carried a spear and knew how to charge with it just as the specialist did -- but they were trained to veer off at the last second, leaving the weapon stuck in the enemy and grabbing another one from their back, or switching to hooves if they ran out. With all the plating Artemis had on, it was easier to just bowl right through -- and on a pony-sized enemy, the collision with her bronze-plated body was almost as damaging as the tip of her pole-arm.

The Sergeant turned towards Glamerspear. "And now, Specialist Glamerspear, will you demonstrate for us the properties remarkable of your attack?"

Lily confidently stepped up into the sand pit. "Sure, Sergeant."

As she trotted off to the left edge of the circle, the two attendants maneuvered the wicker target back into the center. It wasn’t long before Artemis’ unicorn comrade was in position and the batponies had retreated back down to the safety of the trench. Artemis saw Glamerspear's horn light up, and the unicorn planted herself securely in the ground. A second later, a pair of shimmering green spears materialized above her head.

“All right! One pony in the open! DPICM - two rounds! Shot!"

With a sharp double-crack, the two shimmering weapons -- Dual-Purpose Improved Conjured Munition rounds -- screamed forwards with blinding speed, slamming into the upper torso of the wicker target and sending it tumbling sideways over itself.

"Splash!"

After three careening spins, the wicker pony hurtled right out of the ring, teetered at the edge, and then fell into the trench.

The Royal Engineer began to clap politely, and Artemis followed along, as did Sergeant Ebonshield. Despite her success, Glamerspear looked a bit embarrassed, and called over to the group of spectators with a shrug.

"Honestly, it's a lot more impressive against a moving target. Shooting at static dummies is filly's play."

Ebonshield nodded and beckoned her back over. "Of course, Specialist. We understand that your training focuses on the enemies which fly rapidly. But the Royal Engineer is not such a target, of course."

Anonymous cleared his throat and spoke up. "I have a question, actually."

The Sergeant turned back to him. "Certainly, Great Lord?"

The Royal Engineer glanced over at Artemis. "Who wins in a contest between Glamerspear's telekinetic spears and Sparkshower's heavy armor?" Turning to address himself to Lily as well, he continued. "Does your magical spear penetrate her bronze, or would it be deflected?"

That was a good question. But, Artemis thought, Glamerspear was such an accomplished anti-air unicorn that she would surely be able to shoot her down if it came to that.

The unicorn shrugged. "Honestly? I don't think I can do much more than scratch her armor."

‘Tornadoes!’

Artemis blurted her disbelief. "What! Lily, how can you say that! I've never even heard of anypony doing anything like what you did to Lieutenant Kilfeather!"

Glamerspear just grinned. "Yeah, and look what it cost me." Turning back to the Royal Engineer, she continued. “But volume of fire isn't what counts against an armored foe. I'm a conjurer, sir. The spears I shoot emulate real ones, and just as bronze plate is pretty much immune to piercing weapons, so Sparkshower's heavy armor is immune to my spears, as well."

Gesturing with a hoof, she summoned up one of her DPICM rounds. "Conjuring isn't the only way to shoot; there are other unicorns who can bring down armored warriors more easily. Illusionists use weightless force-field bullets that aren't based on reality and can pierce through armor, but each of their rounds is tiny and comparatively much less powerful -- they need to put a lot more ammo into a target to actually injure and wound."

Sitting down, Glamerspear plucked the glittering weapon out of the air with her forehooves and waved it around as if it was actually real. "Elementalists don't really send up anything like traditional projectiles at all -- unless you think a moving ball of fire or electricity is a 'traditional projectile.' That kind of stuff doesn't care much about armor, unless maybe if the target's wearing an insulating suit, but they fly a lot slower than anything else and cost a lot more mana than even an illusionist's bullets or a conjurer's spears, so there's drawbacks whichever school you go with."

Planting the shaft in the ground, Glamerspear curled a foreleg around it like she was standing on guard, and the spear appeared to become slightly more solid and less transparent. “Conjuring was what I excelled in at the 'Schola,' so that's what I do. It takes a lot of study of real-world physical weapons to make a good conjuration."

The Royal Engineer narrowed his eyes and held out his hand. "I see... May I take a closer look at one of your spears?"

Glamerspear nodded. "Sure. Be careful, though -- the edge is sharp."

Seizing the weapon in two hands, Anonymous carefully inspected the tip, rotating the shaft to get a good look at the 'business end' of the spear. Even from over there, Artemis could tell that it was almost impossibly well-honed.

Almost.

"Specialist, let me understand this correctly -- if you studied a different weapon, you could produce that one instead on demand?"

Lily nodded. "Sure, sir. I have a couple of different designs I can conjure up already -- a few smaller dart-like weapons for when speed is more important than mass. And of course I have lightweight blunt rounds for training, too."

As she spoke, an assortment of different spear-like objects started to semi-materialize above her head, including one with what looked like a bag of sand tied at the front, then winked out as she kept her focus on the single weapon in the Royal Engineer's hands.

"What determines the muzzle velocity -- how fast each spear leaves your grasp, I mean?"

Glamerspear shrugged. "Practice and power, really. We're not trained to hold anything back."

The Royal Engineer dipped the spear-tip in the sand and traced a line, then licked his lips. "This is indeed a sharp spear, Specialist. But sharpness isn't what will get you through thick armor. What you need is density to penetrate, and soft material to support the tip so the round doesn't deflect."

Their unicorn seemed taken aback by his declaration at first, then looked genuinely interested as he continued on. "Equestria doesn't have capability to work steel or tungsten yet, and we're ages away from doing anything with uranium, so I'm not sure how to get you an example to study, but I can certainly describe it and sketch it out, and then maybe you could try imagining it yourself."

With a friendly smile, he handed back her shimmering green spear. "Just some food for thought. After all, if I'm going to be keeping bodyguards around me, I might as well make sure they're the best they can be, right?"

Still a bit in disbelief at her VIP's apparent knowledge about weaponry, Glamerspear took the spear and started to tuck it under her foreleg, then realized that she didn’t need it any more at all. As it vanished in a puff of green glitter, Anonymous looked over in Artemis’ direction.

"Anyways, that's all I was curious about. And if I can make case-hardened steel, Specialist, you'll be first on the order list for a new set of plates."

Better armor than what they had now?

Was such a thing even possible?

Artemis already felt pretty invulnerable, but then again, if Glamerspear started tossing around spears made of 'tungsten' -- whatever that was -- maybe she’d need an upgrade!

Glamerspear took her place back in the line, and Ebonshield waved a forehoof to the batpony attendants, ordering them to bring both targets out. "Bueno. Now, the Corporal Bound will demonstrate the attacks of the regular infantry of Equestria: the spear thrown, the spear thrusted, and the attacks with the hooves. Corporal, please to use the target of wicker for the javelin and spear, and the other for the sabots."

With a deep breath, Honour Bound stepped up into the sandpit and snapped together one of her javelin-spears. Rearing up on her hind legs, Corporal Bound raised up a javelin, took two quick steps forward, then chucked her weapon up at an angle towards the target with a cry of exertion.

"Hurh!"

After sailing a moment through the air, it landed neatly in the flank of the wicker pony, knocking it over sideways. Honour stepped up as the batpony attendant pulled the weapon out, scurried over to the place the weapon just in front of the target, and then raised the wicker creature once more.

Picking up the same javelin and checking that it was still intact, Honour sat down and couched the base against one of her forelegs while using the other to direct the motion, and stabbed several times up into the wicker pony's face and chest.

"Hup! Hup! Hup!"

Each time, the target reared back from the blow, but then was pushed down again from behind by the batpony attendant. Stepping back, their quaternion's leader reared up on her hind legs again, holding the javelin above her head, and thrusted down from above right into the target's head, drilling the spear down right through the neck and out the chest.

"Hurgh!"

Her chest heaving from the exertion, she received a polite applause for the performance.

Ebonshield continued to clap her forehooves together even as Honour gathered up her weapon and folded it back up onto her back. "Bueno, and now the kicking if you please? Bring the target close so that the Great Lord may see -- this is the demonstration most critical."

While the attendants dragged the burlap target right in front of them all, Ebonshield looked over her shoulder at the Royal Engineer. "Most ponies fight with the hooves. Even in the infantería, holding the spear can be awkward so the hooves are the weapons more common."

Corporal Bound, looking a bit glum as she trotted over, nodded. "Sir, a spear thrust is a lot more damaging when it's a whole platoon of us doing it in a line or square. Same thing with the javelin throw -- it's supposed to be a mass attack."

‘That's strange, she almost sounds embarrassed.’

What's to be embarrassed about?

Did she do something wrong?

Nothing that Artemis could see. Even though Honour failed to knock the target out of the ring as Artemis and Glamerspear had, they were still mighty blows! The pegasus definitely wouldn't want to be on the receiving end of that overhead thrust -- not without her armor on, certainly!

The Royal Engineer nodded. "I understand, Corporal."

The two batpony attendants stood just beside the target, holding it with their forehooves to keep it in place, and the quaternion leader stepped up to face the static foe. After getting the measure of the target -- and catching her breath a bit -- Honour quickly spun around in a small leap and brought her hind legs to bear, kicking outwards with a harsh whinny and a spray of sand.

"Brrhnn!"

The burlap target took the twin bronze sabots right in the flank, and bucked upwards, only to be brought down again by the sandpit batponies. After demonstrating her rear kick, Honour turned around again, facing the target and raising herself up on her hind legs, then delivered a quick one-two punch with her forehoof sabots.

"Hup! Hup!"

Each hit jostled the target, though it once again stayed upright. Honour collapsed back down onto all fours, then turned around to face the group.

"... Well... that's it, I guess."

‘Gosh, she doesn't seem enthusiastic about this at all.’

Artemis thought Honour was completely on board with the Sergeant's idea for training the Royal Engineer; was she having second thoughts about this as well? Maybe she needed some cheering up, afterwards…

Regardless, everypony gave the corporal a brief applause as she rejoined the line.

Ebonshield stepped out into the sandpit and addressed the group once more. "Excellent. Now, Great Lord, that you have seen to your satisfaction the attacks standard of ponies, we may begin your training regimen. Please to step up with your shield and weapon."

Before the Royal Engineer could even bend down to grab his equipment, Glamerspear took a step forward and burst out with a frown on her face. "Hey! What's the big idea claiming the show's over, Sarge?"

‘What did she mean by that?’

Their batpony sergeant raised a quizzical eyebrow and looked over at the unicorn, who pointed an accusing hoof. "We ain't seen you fight, yet!"

‘Oh!’

‘That's right!’

And that was something Artemis had really been looking forward to, as well! Surely Sergeant Ebonshield wasn't planning on skipping over herself, was she?

Chapter 70

Lily Glamerspear

If that batpony sergeant of Lily’s was going to drag her, her quaternion, and her VIP all the way down into this cave under the mountain, past a Royal Guard Military Ponice checkpoint and a group of vile, shadow-stalking Night Guards, then by Celestia, she was going to get a show out of it! And that meant seeing what this 'Seventh Rank of the School of the Shining Stellar Dance' could do!

"So, come on, let's see what you've got, 'Estelar'!"

Yeah, she was picking up on their language a bit. ‘It ain't so tough.’

The middle-aged batpony mare looked dismissively at her. "There is little chance that the Royal Engineer should ever have to fight against someone from my school. More useful would be to have an ordinary Night Guard soldier demonstrate their techniques, but sadly, none is available at this time."

‘What a cop-out!’

The Royal Engineer shuffled his feet slightly, agitating the mini-kilt around his armor. "'Little chance,' Sergeant, but not impossible?"

Heh, of course the VIP, who was dressed much as Lily was -- although her skirt was more for comfort than for protection -- backed her up. 'Same clothes, same foes,' as the saying goes.

Eb put on the charm for Anonymous. "Almost impossible, Great Lord. In fact, I think improbable in general that any Child of the Stars should wish to challenge the Royal Engineer, particularly in his current position. We do not have the same rules about duelling as the nobility of Equestria does. Far more likely that you should face again one of their number in combat, as you almost did with the Lieutenant Kilfeather."

Lily had no way of knowing if Eb’s assertions about these cave-dwellers were true, but since she was trying to deflect the demonstration this way, Lily could think of another way to get her to step up.

"Sure, Sarge -- but if that creep comes trotting around for more trouble, we're gonna clobber him as a team, ain't we?"

The unicorn specialist looked down the line and received an enthusiastic head-bobbing from Sparkshower, as well as a single nod of acknowledgement by Honour. Turning back to the batpony, she continued. "Which means we've all got to know how you fight."

Lifting up a forehoof and nonchalantly examining it, Lily drilled the point in a bit further. "And, since you didn't have to follow through on your threat to take out those 'hatch-a-door' bats back in the tunnels -- not that some of us weren't ready to jump right into battle with you -- where better to arrange a demonstration than right here in the Night Guard training pit?" She nodded in the direction of the two servile batpony attendants. "I bet they've got at least twelve target dummies stashed away down in that trench for you to 'dance' with."

Sparkshower piped up helpfully. "I counted sixteen!"

Of course she did, that sweet little armored scout pegasister of hers.

The Sergeant took a moment to reflect on -- or maybe to recover from -- Glamerspear’s verbal assault. Finally, she sighed. "If the Great Lord wishes this, I will perform."

Anonymous rolled his shoulders around, frowning slightly. "I'd like to see what you can do, Sergeant. But you make it sound like you're not exactly in the mood for a demonstration."

Ebonshield sighed a second time. "Eh! I came prepared to demonstrate as the others did, of course. The reception provided by my people has given me 'mala leche' -- a bad mood."

As she stretched out her hind legs, Lily heard one of Ebonshield’s knees crack. "But, in my school there is the expression: 'I fight when I must fight, no import my mood.'"

She took a deep breath and stretched the other leg. "To properly demonstrate the technique of the Shining Stellar Dance requires great exertion, and I admit I was hoping to avoid a work-out this morning. Of course, this was pure selfishness on my part."

Their batpony sergeant raised one forehoof and, in a single swift motion, threw off the black cloak that had concealed her ever since she emerged from her room that morning.

A room that she’d left still occupied, too! Visions flashed through Lily’s head of Ebonshield's latest one-night-stand breaking into their bedrooms and rifling through their stuff. There was a lot of fine jewellery, nice makeup, and sweet fashions in the unicorn’s dresser!

Well, at least the single most valuable and important thing she owned -- her Silver Ram -- was right there with her, safely around her neck.

"I shall impose my selfishness upon you no more. I will demonstrate. Director!"

Lily snapped out of imagining herself returning to a ransacked room as one of the pit attendants scurried forward to gather up Ebonshield's cloak, carefully bundling it up and hustling it out of the ring, while the now uncovered batpony herself cantered away towards the outer edge closest to the musicians. Seeing her approach, they lowered their instruments.

"Where is the Balladeer of Gh-” The music-director squinted at Ebonshield, but before he could utter that same 'kay' thing he kept repeating before, she cut herself off with a dismissive snort and switched to the batpony tongue.

"...¿Dónde está el Baladista de Fantasmas?"

The musicians all glanced up at the funny raised wooden... gazebo?

Watch-tower?

Litter-on-stilts?

Lily wasn’t quite sure what to call the small, black wooden structure with the red curtains, but before she could make any more guesses, a loud, coltish voice with a sharp batpony accent crackled out from inside it.

"He is RIGHT HERE! And he is also trying to SLEEP!" A withered old hoof appeared from behind one of the curtains, hooking a grey foreleg onto the edge of the gazebo-tower's wall.

“Puta mierda, do jou have any idea of what time this is?"

A second hoof appeared, and they rose to part the red curtains of the raised box, which was barely larger than Lily’s own single-pony bed back in the barracks.

Finally, the speaker's dark grey head appeared. It was an ancient-looking batpony colt, with white whiskers and a beard, and a short white mane to match, framing a face covered by a large black sleeping-mask fringed with long red strips that swayed and bounced as he spoke.

Ebonshield called up to him, bowing her head. "Just after nine o'clock, oh Balladeer of Ghosts."

Still keeping his mask on, the old colt's upper lip twitched and he sneered down at her, baring his teeth. "After nine! Joder, what is the meaning for all this racket jou are making at such a late hour, then? Now is the time for the good batponies to be sleeping, damn the shadows!"

Their sergeant took the torrent of abuse in stride, keeping her head held low. "I am training with Children of the Sun, and we have need of your music."

After a long delay, the old colt in the gazebo shouted back down to her. "¿Qué? ¿Qué?" He thrusted one of his hooves in her general direction. "Lift your damned head when jou speak to me, or else speak up! Difficult to hear things all the way up here, cabrón!"

Doing both, the Sergeant exited her bow and hollered up at the 'balladeer' in his little pulpit. "We have need of your music!"

The old colt's upper lip and whiskers twitched for a few moments while he processed what she'd said, then he sniffed deeply, before spitting what appeared to be a loogie down into the trench.

‘Gross!’

"You need my music? I will give jou music, gilipollas!"

With a hesitant step -- probably owing to his refusal to remove the damned sleeping-mask, he moved over to the side of his balcony that looked down on the musicians, then leaned over to harangue them.

"Stop with all this horrible shit jou have been playing until now! The noise burns my ears! The 'estrela' says that she wants music, so I will give her music!"

Baring his teeth, he barely avoided clonking his head into one of the pillars that held the little roof above his head as he turned back to Sergeant Ebonshield.

“Prepare yourself, Estrela Siete! I will give you music worth dancing to, you mequetrefe!"

Before he could get to it, she called back up to him, with a somewhat angry tone to her voice.

No surprise, given how he'd been cussing her out!

"Just play something standard, if you please!"

Shouting back down at her, he lowered his forehooves to pick something up from the floor of his pulpit. "Hah! Standard, jou say? Standard!? What would jour Old Colt of the Mountain say to jour 'standard'?"

Before she could reply, he leaned out over the trench. "¡Que te folle un pez! Do not wake me up at such a profane hour of the day and then pretend also to give me orders!"

Turning away, Lily saw him place something small in his mouth -- a small pipe, perhaps? -- as he fussed over something larger with his hooves, muttering away to himself.

"I will give jou 'standard,' all right."

Frowning, Ebonshield retired to the center of the arena. Now that her exchange with the strange old colt in the little pulpit was done, Lily glanced around.

‘Hey -- those damned pit-attendants haven't brought out any more of the target dummies!’

As a matter of fact, they'd put away the two that were out previously!

‘Now what the buck is this?’

Lily hadn’t come all the way down into the Tartarean depths of Canterlot Mountain just for an abstract ballet show!

Scanning the 'Grand Hall of Stars,' she finally caught sight of the two sandpit-workers. They'd pushed one of the benches up against the inner wall of the trench, and were standing on it, their forelegs and faces just peeking over onto the inner rim.

Lily poked Honour in the shoulder and pointed them out. "Look at those two goons hiding over there!"

The corporal nodded. "Hmmm... Maybe we ought to climb down as well."

Lily looked around the room once more. Eb was posed like a statue in the middle of the arena floor, waiting, presumably, for her 'standard' music to begin. The musicians themselves, after a brief scurry to grab other instruments, were now perched at the edge of their ring, looking rather less relaxed and rather more formally composed than previously.

Something was going to happen for sure.

"Yeah, let's take cover."

Without waiting for an order either way, Lily materialized a whole triple-bundle of blunted spears to form steps. Honour gave her a nod as she trotted down them, but their VIP just jumped right down into the pit, landing easily on his feet. Sparkshower, of course, floated down on her wings. Lily was the only one left to make use of her makeshift magical staircase.

By the time she reached the floor, Anonymous had already laid down his equipment and grabbed one of the wooden benches in his arms, hauling it over to the inner rim.

‘Geez…’

Lily could have easily telekinesis'd it over, but still.

‘The muscles on this colt…’

As she moved to perch herself on her hind legs on top of the bench, resting her forelegs on the outer ring of the arena, Lily’s mind wandered a bit to the manaburn-induced fever dream she had in the coltswear store. No question now that her VIP would be able to scoop her up in his arms if he ever wanted to.

‘Unf.’

She felt a bit of a buzz in her horn as she momentarily imagined him hauling her around, one arm under her barrel, the other arm holding his shield. What a team they’d make!

Buff hairless monkey-colt doing all the exhausting legwork and protecting her with his colossal minotaur aegis.

Sexy young unicorn mare blasting everything in sight, giggling as she gunned down foe after foe, almost breathless from the excitement of battle and from his tantalizingly firm grip.

‘Mmmf.’

"Look, he's got something in his mouth."

‘Oh, he'll have something in his mouth, all right.’

‘My hor-wait, what did Sparkshower say?’

The old grey colt -- still wearing that stupid fringed blindfold-mask of his -- reappeared at the arena-facing window of his raised gazebo, clutching a small wooden flute-looking instrument in his forehooves.

The pegasus continued, peering at the distant batpony. “That looks kind of like an oboe, but with less holes and a bigger opening at the bottom."

‘How the buck does this pegasus pick out details at a hundred hooves away?’

Then Lily remembered -- two of them could play that game. Giving a sharp triple-tap to her helmet's optics button, she dropped down her magnifying viewfinder. Sure enough, zoomed in, she could make out the 'Balladeer's' apparent instrument of choice, and it did look a bit oboe-ish.

He waved his left hoof in the air -- with the other musicians watching him carefully from below -- and then, with a final jerk of his foreleg, a great low drone from one of the ordinary musician's horns fills the hall, accompanied by the occasional thrub of a great drum.

Strongly recommended background music: Paul Ruskay - 'Swarmer Battle Music', from 'Homeworld' [2000]
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FY1fVrI2NFQ

It was a little creepy how the atmospheric droning echoed around the room, but it sure didn’t sound like dance music to Lily. That's when the music-director batpony joined in, stoically tapping away on a pair of bongo drums.

Okay, it was a pretty slow and sensuous rhythm, but at least now there was a beat. She started nodding her head along, staring at Ebonshield and wondering when the show was going to start. Against the backdrop of the droning horns, the soft patter of the bongos, and the occasional thud of a massive kettle-drum somewhere further back, Lily heard a low, guttural singing voice join.

It was that old colt, up in the pulpit!

‘Bizarre.’

There was another sound, too...

‘Sounds like... moving sand?’

Glancing left and right, Lily saw little dust-storms kick up here and there across the pit.

Strange; she didn’t feel any wind down there.

Quickly folding up her optics, she barely had the time to get a good look at the closest miniature cyclone before a powerful, sharp higher-pitched sound pierced the air. She looked up, and saw the 'Balladeer' had his oboe-thing held up to his lips.

‘Crazy sound that thing makes!’

But when she looked down, that's when her eyes really went wide.

As the music played, dark black spots appeared in the sandpit, enveloping and enlarging the miniature sandstorms, pulling them up out of the ground!

Lily heard a gasp from Sparkshower at the other end of the bench, and the rising black sand started to form itself into shadowy forms ringed with red auras. Within moments, they coalesced into the shapes of strange ponies who appeared to be made of charcoal. And not just any charcoal-ponies -- charcoal-ponies in ebony-black Royal Guard uniforms!

The Balladeer of Ghosts lowered his instrument and began to chant once more, and the shadow-sand ponies started to move, circling menacingly around the lone Sergeant in the centre.

Gaping, Lily saw weapons materialize out of the sand and into their hooves.

‘It's a whole buckin' conjured-sand army!’

Scanning left and right, Lily counted a unicorn, four pegasi, and four earth ponies -- nine opponents in all!

That's when she realized that Ebonshield wasn’t sitting still any longer -- she was stepping towards a gap between the approaching groups of shadow-ponies. As she darted towards the safe open space, Lily caught a glimpse of Eb’s equipment, and realized this was the first time she’d seen the sergeant fully decked out.

She wasn’t wearing much.

Besides the simple leather chanfron that she could see earlier, the batpony had a small leather peytral -- little more than a pectoral boss, really -- and four short leather greaves, one on each leg.

And that's it!

Protection rating: practically zilch!

But as Ebonshield hustled towards the rim, trying to keep the musically summoned opponents to one side of her, Lily caught a shiny, silver glimpse of the daggers attached to the greaves, on the insides of her legs.

‘How is she going to hit anything with them tucked in like that?’

‘Unless…’

Gears turned in Lily’s head, and just as quickly as they struggled to crank out the solution, Ebonshield turned around and flapped her wings, leaping towards the closest shadow-figure, an earth pony struggling to bring its short javelin to bear on her flank. Passing clear over the weapon, she thrust her left forehoof forward, and with a 'snik' noise just barely loud enough to hear, the dagger strapped to that limb sliced forward, neatly jabbing right into the creature's throat.

While the momentum of her sergeant's jump pushed the target over backwards, she withdrew her foreleg to the sound of another 'snak' noise as the blade snapped back into its previous position. She landed on the ground and ducked into a roll just as one of the other earth-pony simulacrums stabbed its spear down where she’d landed, while the target she'd stabbed collapsed in a heap before melting back into the sand.

‘What the buck is this?!’

More incredulous at the mechanical magic powering the batpony's daggers than the actual sorcery fuelling her targets, Lily followed Ebonshield’s roll and watched her flip around to crash into the spear-wielding pony's upper torso, stabbing her right-hoof's spring-activated dagger repeatedly into the base of its neck, where the main armor connected with the neck-guard. With an ethereal moan, this one, too, collapsed down into the pit, the shadow-stuff evaporating as the sand regained its usual brown color.

Now it was the conjured pegasi's turn to charge in, and two of them took to the air, setting the batpony up for a quick one-two perpendicular crossover charge. All the while, the remaining two earth ponies waved their spears menacingly, trying to herd their sergeant into the trap. The charcoal-figure unicorn, meanwhile, looked to be charging up a spell of some kind -- and he was flanked by the other two pegasi, floating in the air beside him.

Ebonshield extended her wings, and that's when Lily caught another flash of silvery metal.

Sparkshower blurted it out before Glamerspear could. "She's got blades on her wing-arms!"

Smashing one wing forward, Ebonshield used the metal wing-blade to knock one earth pony's weapon up just enough for her to duck underneath, and in a blink of an eye, administered another quick dagger-plunge up the black-sand creature's throat and into its snarling head. Quickly, as the first pegasus just came roaring in, his companion close beside him, Ebonshield grasped the dying creature's neck and rolled onto her back, flipping the disintegrating sand-creature into the path of her first flying foe. The spray of sand sent the black-winged pony off-course, though he pulled up with more than enough time to avoid any counter-stroke.

She was back on her hooves again, and the second pegasus had her flank dead to rights, his spear lined up in a charge just like Sparkshower demonstrated moments ago. But at the last second, Ebonshield fluttered to one side with unbelievable agility, narrowly avoiding being harpooned straight through as Lily’s pegasister had done to her own target. That second pegasus joined its temporarily-blinded comrade for another pass around, while the earth pony retreated slowly towards the mage.

‘Say -- just how realistic are these sand-creatures, anyways?’

‘If she got stabbed, would it even hurt?’

As if to answer her question, the unicorn's horn suddenly glowed with a red, arcane light, and an enormous conjured harpoon hurtled towards the recovering batpony. She raised her wing-blades and her forehoof-blades to block it, and there was a tremendous clong as the harpoon dissipated against her weapons, but nonetheless the sheer force of the impact sent her tumbling back, almost to the edge of the ring. It took Ebonshield a second to struggle back to her hooves, panting heavily, but she managed it just as the unicorn's horn lit up once more. This time, there was no chance of blocking, so she took to the air, sinuously wiggling up like a snake.

One of the airborne pegasi passed by and raised its weapon to slash at her, but she aerially tumbled out of the way even as the second black magic harpoon crashed into the ceiling, exploding in a fury of black sand and crushed stone.

‘Holy Celestia!’

There was a damn hole in the painted ceiling where it hit! That answered Lily’s question about realism. And it was definitely a good thing they’d all taken cover in the pit. The unicorn surreptitiously pulled her forelegs off the edge and lowered herself down so that her eyes were just peeking over the top, and she was not surprised to see the rest of her group doing the same.

Back up in the air, Ebonshield had somehow maneuvered herself around and above one of the pegasi, and wrapped her forelegs around his neck before slashing down and forward with her wing-blades, slicing off his means of flight. She kicked herself off of the falling target, who flailed his limbs in a panic before slamming into the arena floor with an explosion of sand.

The two pegasi floating by the unicorn tipped up their spears, and even the earth pony hurled a conjured javelin as the acrobatic batpony came fluttering down towards the dangerous unicorn, the remaining airborne pegasus still struggling to match Ebonshield’s tight turns and get on top of her. The batpony landed short, dodging the thrown projectile and rolling forwards into a slide before kicking herself up off her back and right into the last earth pony, her left forehoof-blade slicing open yet another charcoal neck. At close range, the pegasi slashed awkwardly with their long spears, while the unicorn abandoned its attack for a hastily-erected shield. Yet the sergeant just cantered away, satisfied for the moment with eliminating the last earth pony.

Five down, four to go.

The high-altitude pegasus came shearing down across the battlefield, spear held well out, but the middle-aged acrobatic batpony ducked down early, then sprung up above into a backflip when the shadow-creature lowered his aim. This time, there was no way for her to bring her foreleg weapons to bear, so she kicked out with a hind leg, and the same 'snik-snak' blade cut through the open face of the pegasus' helmet. By the time she'd landed on her hooves again, gasping for breath, her target had collapsed behind her into a pile of sand.

Just three left.

The unicorn had dropped its shield and decided to trade power for rate of fire, sending black dart after black dart crackling forward towards their target, while she zig-zagged towards the gunner. Puffs of sand flew up into the air as shots fell short, while darts that ran long clattered noisily against the raised wall of the outer rim.

‘Geez, if that thing aims any higher, the musicians might be in danger, too!’

‘Unless maybe there's some magical shielding at work to keep that outer ring safe…’

As Ebonshield worked her way closer, one of the pegasi guards broke to the left, while the other stuck with the unicorn, who took a second to reload for its next magical volley. Before the flanking pegasus could make a move, the batpony bolted straight up into the air, and the unicorn desperately dropped the fresh spell to try and raise a shield. It was all too late, though, because she came powering down on top of it, crashing hooves-first through the half-raised protective dome and right onto the surprised spellcaster, only to lash out sideways with a wing, slicing open the pegasus bodyguard's neck. Then she raised her forehooves up and brought them sharply down again, and Lily heard a double 'snik-snak' as the two blades did their work.

Just the one target left -- a lone shadowy pegasus keeping to the air, hoarding its kinetic energy against a target clearly more maneuverable than it was. For the moment, the batpony just followed it with her gaze, probably glad for the respite -- she was panting heavily, and flapping her wings gently to cool herself off. Her rest was cut short when immediately beside her, however, a black sand-pile rose up into a towering figure.

The 'Balladeer of Ghosts' had other plans, it would seem.

Ebonshield retreated as the shape coalesced into an enormous minotaur wielding a great maul. That thing was almost as big as Bronzehorn!

Their batpony sergeant cried out towards the musicians. "I said standard, Ignacio!"

Another black shape formed just behind her, and she had to change her direction of retreat.

'Ignacio,' the balladeer in the pulpit, lowered his instrument and hollered down to the sandpit. "There is no 'standard' in war! The only standard in war is death!" Snarling, he raised his instrument back up, but bellowed out before returning to his melody. "If jou have not yet learned this, then I shall gladly supply the lesson!"

With another haunting reprise of the strange melody, the second newcomer took shape -- and it was a dragon, down on all fours! Barely had Ebonshield trotted away from it that it inhaled and then lanced out a stream of shadowy, red-hot flame! The blazing jet flew right by Lily’s group, prompting everypony to duck, and poured against the back wall of the trench.

‘Holy buck!’

Lily could feel the heat even ten hooves away! Horrified by the attack, but desperate to see the end of the fight, she raised her head up once more, and so did everypony else.

The shadow-minotaur had Ebonshield up against the outer rim with its two-handed hammer raised above its head. She dodged away at the last instant as the maul slammed down into the sand, thudding angrily and raising a plume of yellow dust. Before she could dart in and administer the usual treatment, however, the minotaur quickly stepped right and swung the weapon left, clotheslining her chest with the handle. With a loud 'Oof!', Eb dropped to the ground, then rolled sideways to avoid another hammer blow.

Meanwhile, the dragon was circling the ring, moving closer for a larger target.

That pegasus was still up in the ceiling, too, waiting for a moment to strike.

Dodging yet another overhead slam from the minotaur by rolling away, the batpony finally spun herself up onto her hooves and launched onto its back, stabbing again and again with one forehoof-blade and one hindhoof-blade as she climbed up towards its neck. The conjured minotaur roared in pain, and dropped its weapon to try to grab her off, but all it managed to do was stagger forward as she continued her relentless assault, now shouting with every half-desperate strike.

"Hrah! Hyah! Hiyah!"

Finally, she reached his neck, and jammed both of her foreleg blades down into his collar-region. There was another roar of pain, but she once again failed to deliver a fatal blow, and the confused cow-beast stumbled further forward still.

... Right towards the dragon, Lily noted, who opened its mouth and sent a streak of flame right at the minotaur's head and shoulders. Ebonshield dodged back down to the ground as the two-legged cow's head melted right off, then she burst through the collapsing sand-creature's torso to strike the dragon head-on with a forehoof blade already extended. Slicing sideways, she caught it in the jaw, and as it tumbled over, she swept her hind legs forward to stab it through the chest. An abortive puff of flame was the final gasp of the dragon-creature, and now she was back down to the single pegasus in the sky once again. Standing on level ground, Ebonshield looked up, almost collapsing onto her forelegs, gasping for air.

Curiously, the pegasus came gently floating down on the opposite side of the arena, and dropped its spear to the ground. Even their batpony sergeant appeared confused, and then from the pulpit, Lily heard another moaning chant. The black shadowy pegasus bent forward, its body wracked with convulsions, and seemed to quadruple in size as its shape twisted and reformed itself. Then it reared up on its hind legs, and Lily saw hands -- hands! -- in place of forehooves.

A black disk materialized in its left arm, and as the pegasus' shadow-spear disappeared into the ground, a great mace with a geometric head formed itself in the creature's right hand.

Anonymous gasped. "Good grief, that's me!"

Retreating before it, Sergeant Ebonshield shook her head, stumbling towards the musicians. "No! No, you must not do this! Ignacio! Please, stop now!"

The thing's helmet finally took its proper shape, and from behind the thin 'T' cut into the face, Lily could see two burning, red eyes and glowing-white teeth. Heedless of Ebonshield's cries, the band played on -- and the towering conjured shadow-human spread its legs and clanged its weapon into its shield. Then it opened its mouth, and a roar emerged that sounded like Cerberus itself was tearing its way out of the Tartarean depths.

Sparkshower gasped, ducking down, and even Honour whispered out loud.

"What the buck is that thing?"

‘That is a good bucking question.’

But for now, it was all Lily could do to watch as the brimstone doppelganger of their VIP closed in, shield first, on their exhausted batpony Sergeant. Still panting, and stepping weakly, she circled around away from it, keeping space.

His creation fully-formed, Ignacio lowers his instrument and bellows out from the tower. "Since when does an estellar refuse to kill? Jou have been given a target -- dispose of him! This is the way of jour college!"

Almost stumbling, Ebonshield hollered back. "I tell you I am done, Ignacio! Send it back to the pit!"

"Pah! You are done when I say jou are done! Does this one have some special meaning to jou?" Without waiting for an answer, he grinned his old withered teeth and gums at her. "...Good! For I send him against thee wickedly! Haha!" Punctuating his statement with a cackle, he returned to his instrument with heightened vigor, directing the fight to continue.

Ebonshield took one final, deep breath, and then appeared to resolve to end the combat quickly, charging forwards and leaping up into the air towards the simulacrum's head -- only to crash into the shield which he raised to his shoulder just in time. Thrown back against the floor by the force of his push, it was all she could do to roll out of the way as the heavy mace crashed into the ground where she lay, showering everything with sand. This time, she avoided darting in again on the clone's weapon side, remembering the minotaur's earlier trick -- and, indeed, the shadow-Anonymous recovered from the missed attack just as quickly as that other combatant had, if not faster. Lily almost held her breath as the black figure hunched over, shield firmly in front, closing in on her escaping sergeant.

‘She just wasted eight ponies, a minotaur, and a young dragon!’

‘Surely she can take on a lone armored monkey, too?’

As Ebonshield darted to the far side of the arena, the shadow stood upright again, aggressively clanging its weapon into its shield. In the other corner, the batpony swallowed and then hunched down on her forelegs. With a loud grunt, she kicked her hind legs in the air, the blades snapping out -- and staying out, too, as she brought her legs back down and stood in the sand on the dagger-tips. She repeated the same motion with her forelegs, and she was standing on sharp metal stilts, raised up higher than before. A quick flap of her wings, and the blades on those snapped out to an extended length as well.

‘Get the buck outta here!’

‘Every single one of her friggin' weapons is spring-loaded?!’

Having traded surprise for reach, and a surer footing for height, Ebonshield closed back in. The shadow-human hunched back down, shield out front and weapon held level at the side, ready to deliver a forceful thrust. The batpony had an almost spider-like gait as she scurried in, more easily able to dart sideways with a higher center of gravity, throwing up sand as she sliced her weapon-hooves around. In moments, they were just in front of each other, and Ebonshield began to strike at the shield with her forelegs and wings. It was all pointless, though -- the shield easily deflected her slashes, and each attack puts her off balance.

‘Why is she even bothering??’

Lily’s answer came when the shadow-Anonymous swung his weapon overhead in a great arc -- she could see it clearly from where she was, but somehow Ebonshield knew it was coming, too, and ducked towards his weapon arm only to slice upwards with her blades at his wrist. With a cry of pain, the weapon left his grasp and tumbled to the ground, and the creature retreated, holding his wounded hand against his flank.

They must be pretty bucking sharp blades to cut through Bronzehorn's gloves -- but then again, it was just leather padding in that spot.

Now that her opponent had been disarmed, Ebonshield took the offensive, leaping up once more for the killing blow. But the shadow-human just leaned back and raised its shield -- she landed on top of it and tried to slash down, catching only the sides of his helmet before he shoved the shield forwards and hurled her off again. The exhausted batpony tumbled to the ground, and took a moment too long to recover, giving the creature enough time to raise and then slam the edge of his shield down at her exposed right leg.

"AAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!"

That genuine shriek of pain was enough to absolutely confirm that what happened in the pit was horribly real.

Before he could bring it down again, she lifted her left leg and reached down with one forehoof. In what surely must have been a desperation measure, she slapped her hoof against her raised leg, and the spring-loaded dagger flew out, burying itself in the shadow-human's exposed thigh. This time, there was no marely scream, but another Tartarean roar as the shield-slam missed its mark from the sudden injury. With her neck covered in white sweat-foam, Ebonshield spun around onto her chest and pushed herself up with her three good legs, grimacing in pain as she limped away.

The shadow-creature limped, too -- but towards her, crouched behind his shield, eager to finish the fight. Trotting as fast as she could, she tried to circle around to his exposed right side, but having only three legs to work with, it was far more difficult than it was before. She had him almost spinning in place, then suddenly she flapped her wings and reversed direction. The abrupt need to twist the other way forced the shadow-creature to unintentionally put weight on its bad leg, and it roared again, almost toppling over sideways from the excruciating pain.

That was her moment to strike, and Ebonshield leapt in, latching onto his shield and punching forward again and again with her foreleg-daggers. They clanked and clattered against his helmet as he bobbed and weaved, and then there was a terrifying moment when that injured right hand reappeared from below -- holding her own launched dagger in a fist! He thrust it forward around his shield, and she barely launched herself away in time to avoid it.

‘Damn, now he's got a weapon again!’

That was probably what Ebonshield was thinking, too. The shadow-human's right hand was still injured, but it could hold a dagger -- and that short, swift weapon was a far better tool against the lightly-armored, agile batpony.

What to do?

Lily could see Ebonshield floating in the air before her target, spittle dripping from her open mouth and an exhausted look in her eyes. In her place, Lily would probably go for broke.

Apparently, the batpony had the same thought, and she darted to the right -- towards the shadow-creature's shield-arm instead of the menacing dagger -- juking low before turning away, only to slash at his eyes with her left wing-blade. This time, she either punctured through the bronze or managed to find the gap, and, with another horrifying roar of pain, the shadow creature tumbled over sideways. Ebonshield landed, her right leg tucked up tight against her torso, panting heavily and apparently relieved to be done with the fight.

Except it wasn't over, because the charcoal figure, rather than collapsing down into the sand, lifted itself up onto its knees and tried to stagger back up to its feet. Hearing the clattering of metal instead of the expected pouring of sand, the batpony hustled over.

"¡Sombra maldita! ¡¡¿Por qué no mueres?!!"

With a toothy snarl, she launched herself onto its back, and then stabbed down at its neck again and again, snarling and shrieking with every blow. The Grand Hall of Stars, in the Rookery of the Night Guard under Canterlot Mountain, was filled with a terrifying, otherworldly howl as the shadow-creature collapsed first to its knees, then onto its chest... and then finally, as the howl was reduced to echoes, it melted back into the sand.

Purity Ebonshield, having defeated the final foe, toppled over sideways and sprawled out on the sand, utterly exhausted, her chest heaving so hard that her ribcage rippled against her fur.

As the arcane composition finally ended, the musicians lowered their instruments, and Lily felt at last able to lift her head up past eye-level -- but then she spotted 'Ignacio,' the ornery colt in the parapet, flip a ramp down behind his perch and start to trot down it.

"Step aside, miscreants! Put out the plank! I want to get down to the arena!"

Hurling insults at the other musicians, the 'Balladeer of Ghosts' ambled back towards the edge of the outer ring as four of the chastened batpony orchestra-members brought forward what looked like another ramp -- one long enough to bridge the trench between the sandpit and the elevated observation area.

Lily’s blood instantly boiled.

This bucking colt, after trying to kill her squadmate with magic apparitions, thought he could just trot down and finish her off in person?

‘Not the buck on my watch!’

"Hey!" With a cry, Lily leaped up onto the fighting stage and galloped towards her fallen comrade, reaching her and raising a magical shield over her crumpled body just as the old colt hobbled his way down the plank towards her.

Literally hobbled -- he had a crutch under his left foreleg. And he was still wearing that bucking black night-mask blindfold with the red fringe! How the buck did he even see where he was going!

Lily heard hoofsteps and footsteps hustling towards her from behind, but it was all up to her to stop this batpony mage before he did what those bastards at the checkpoint tried to do.

"That's far enough, buster! Stand the buck back!"

Craning his head sideways, the old dark-grey colt bared his teeth and spoke in a raspy tone. "Oho? Who is this, then? Jou have a stalwart defender to come to jour rescue, estelar?"

Nothing came but a pained groan from Lily’s comrade on the floor, in-between weak breaths. "Uhnnnn..."

The colt took a step forward, but she threateningly expanded the shield-bubble.

"I said that's close enough!"

Ignacio snarled angrily at the unicorn. "Step aside! I will inspect my subject!"

‘Pfft, as if!’

"Yeah? You wanna see what you did to her? You don't gotta get close! Just take off that blindfold and look with your eyes, you jerk!"

From below, Lily heard another weak moan -- it almost sounded like words.

"... Glamerspear... do not..."

But it was drowned out by a loud cackling from in front of her. "Oho! Ohohohoho! Ahah! Jou want I should take off my blindfold, jes? Ahaha!"

Still giggling, she saw him sit down and reach his forehooves up behind his head, leaning on his crutch. "And if I should do this, unicornio, what... exactly... do jou think..."

He untied the blindfold, and allowed it to fall lazily to the sandy floor.

"... I will see?"

Just above two rows of withered teeth clenched in an amused grimace, two utterly featureless, milky-white orbs stare back at Glamerspear, freezing her in place.

‘What the buck!’

‘He's blind!’

‘This son-of-a-bitch performed all that magic... blind?!’

Chapter 71

Honour Bound

Getting into a fight with a batpony sorcerer was not in Corporal Honour Bound’s plan of action for this morning.

As she skidded to a stop with the Royal Engineer not two hooves behind her heels, Sparkshower landed on the other side of Glamerspear's protective dome. Now that the four of them were all there, and since nopony had started an actual fight, the corporal had a brief moment to size up the situation.

Before her, the old batpony colt was still cackling with amusement, his blind eyes looking aimlessly forward. Glamerspear had a look of utter incomprehension on her face as she maintained her protective shield. And sprawled out on the sand under Glamerspear's dome, still completely exhausted and out of breath, Sergeant Ebonshield struggled to maintain consciousness. There was a dark stain on the sand near her wounded leg, too, although Honour couldn’t see the injury itself.

The 'Balladeer of Ghosts' adjusted the crutch underneath his left shoulder, and his laughter slowly drew to a close. "Oho..." Looking slightly off to one side, he licked his lips, before speaking in a raspy voice. "Jour camaraderie is commendable, unicorn, but ill-founded. I did not charge blindly - hah! hehe! - down from the minbar just to assault my dancer. And besides, what do jou imagine I can possibly do to her?"

Punctuating his point, he re-shouldered the crutch, then flexed his wings slightly open. They were disgusting, gaunt, shrivelled things, and Honour couldn’t imagine they were the slightest bit useful for flying.

Glamerspear was still too shocked by the magician's blindness to do more than gape, but on the ground, Honour spotted Ebonshield swallow and whisper between pained breaths.

"Specialist.... it is alright..."

The unicorn specialist glanced down at her comrade, then over to the corporal. Honour gave her a nod, and the shield faded out. But, critically, her horn remained lit -- the sign of an active draw of mana.

She was staying alert to possible treachery; probably a good idea.

The moment her barrier winked out of existence, the withered old musician-mage stood up on all fours and hobbled towards the sergeant, sitting down again just in front of her. With her face damp with tears from pain and exhaustion, all she managed to do was whimper out his name.

"... Ignacio ..."

Laying down his crutch, the batpony sorcerer bent over and appeared to delicately inspect their comrade. "Tut-tut-tut-tut, shhhh, quiet now... Ah, mi angelita de la muerte, what have jou done to jourself?" He reached out a probing hoof, and after a few seconds spent blindly searching, laid it gently on her injured leg -- but not gently enough that it didn’t aggravate the wound.

"EEEEEEHH!"

After that painful cry, Ebonshield shut her eyes and her breathing became panicked.

Ignacio leaned in close to her snout, still keeping one hoof delicately on the site of the injury. "Shhh-shh-shhh.... Listen, listen..."

Placing his lips almost right up to her ear, he began to sing. "Estrellita, ¿donde estás? Me pregunto qué serás..."

The soothing, simple melody had the tempo of a lullaby, and the sergeant began to calm down.

"...En el cielo y en el mar, un diamante de verdad..."

Honour could tell that it was more than just a simple song, though, and even Glamerspear's eyes grew wide as they all stared down at the Balladeer's hoof -- a hoof which was glowing with a pure-white light.

"... Estrellita, ¿donde estás? Cuando nada brilla más..."

The glow intensified and spread, covering Ebonshield's injured leg.

"... Tu nos muestras tu brillar..."

Almost as quickly as it spread, it dissipated, and the sorcerer withdrew his healing touch, slowing the melody and bringing the song to an end.

"... brillas, brillas, sin parar."

On the ground, the Sergeant's breathing returned to a normal rate, and she opened her eyes, flexing her newly-restored leg. Ignacio said nothing as he gathered his crutch and sat up straight. Without further aid, Sergeant Ebonshield slowly got up onto her four hooves.

Honour spotted Glamerspear silently mouth 'No way!' beside her.

After dusting the sand off of herself, their batpony comrade turned and bowed to the strange old mystic. "Gracias, Ignacio."

The Balladeer just sat there for a moment, facing slightly the wrong way to be looking at her. Then he shook his head, speaking slowly and softly. "Mmmm... Have I ever tol' jou how beautiful jou are, Pureza?"

Ebonshield rose out of her bow. Her cheeks weren’t rosy, but something about her eyes told Corporal Bound that she was a little embarrassed by that comment.

But her reply was playfully friendly. "Only every time we meet."

He nodded, looking off to one side. "Ah! ..."

The nod changed into another shake. "... Not often enough."

Now there was a tiny bit of redness on her face.

The old colt grinned, as if realizing his success at having unsettled her. But before she could say anything, he continued on. "Now, who are these friends of jours, eh? Why jou take so long to introduce me? Come on!"

With a sigh, Ebonshield glanced back at the four of you. "Umbrío, these are-"

The blind batpony cut her off. "Tut-tut-tut-tut! I have descended down from here as Ignacio, not as a title." He curled his wrinkled lips up, exposing his withered teeth. "A title would have left jou in the circle to make jour own way out."

Ebonshield stared at him, then swallowed and continued. "Ignacio, there are first the members of my cuaternio: Corporal Bound, Specialist Glamerspear, and Specialist Sparkshower."

Again he interrupted, his head darting left and right as if he were trying to follow the meanderings of a housefly. "Which of them is the unicorn?"

"That is Specialist Glamerspear."

Ignacio nodded. "Ah!"

His head swiveled to point straight at the unicorn in question. "Jou can see that we are all friends now, jes? There is no need to continue to channel in this way."

Honour looked over at Glamerspear, and she was just as startled -- again -- that he knew her horn was still lit up. As her horn dimmed, she leaned over towards Ebonshield.

"How'd he know that?"

Before she could answer, Ignacio barked out. "I am blind, not deaf! And I could hear that ridiculous buzzing noise jou were making."

Now it was Sparkshower's turn to scrunch up her snoot in confusion. "I didn't hear anything!"

Ignacio turned to the newest source of sound. "Jou are the pegasus, jes? Jou have not the ears to hear the noise of which I speak."

Glamerspear squinted and shook her head. "But I didn't hear anything either."

Ignacio turned back towards her, arching his eyebrows. "Then that is a shame, as jou do have the capacity, if not the skill."

Clearly, 'ears' was a metaphor for some aspect of magical abilities. Could this withered old batpony mage somehow sense magic in a way that unicorns like Glamerspear couldn't?

Licking his lips and twitching his nose, the Balladeer resettled himself on his crutch. "I understand jour defensiveness, of course. But I am surprised at jour eagnerness to escalate. Are we viewed so disfavorably on the surface?"

Ebonshield answered. "I think her reaction is not so much the attitude of the surface as it was the reception we received outside the Cave of Pillars."

The old colt arched his bushy white eyebrows, nodding. "Ahh... Of course, now is the morning shift -- València, I think?"

"Yes."

"Hmm... A poor hostess indeed. In this case then, I welcome jou, señoras, into the Rookery of the Canterlot Mountain. Nuestra casa es su casa -- our home is jour home. Figuratively -- and literally also, given this location."

Leaning on his crutch, he gave a crude approximation of a bow. Ebonshield just stared at him in utter disbelief. Ignacio collected himself, waiting for her to continue. When he realized the silent gap, he turned his head towards her. "... What?"

The Sergeant just shook her head. "Nothing... I just thought... Never mind."

The Balladeer furrowed his brow, drawing himself up. "What?"

Ebonshield shook her head. "I thought you were in a bad mood."

Ignacio pursed his lips as if wounded by an insult. "No, no. Why would jou think this?"

Nodding towards the musicians' perch, she replied. "The way you treated the poor director and his musicians, for one."

Sneering, Ignacio shook his head. "That banda de rocas? Jou are going to judge me in a bad mood because I do not enjoy being waken up rudely to their loud música moderna? Come now, Pureza -- be serious."

Laughing out of a sense of sheer incredulity, Ebonshield rolled her eyes. "Bof! Even in a good mood, I also did not expect you to act polite with the visitors."

Ignacio indignantly tapped his crutch on the ground. "What! I can be polite!"

"I have never seen you be polite, Ignacio."

At this, the old batpony grinned. "That is because jou have never brought me anypony worth being polite to! Haha!"

After a brief chuckled to himself, he squinted his blind eyes, sniffing the air. "Jou are upset with me, Pureza. Why? What have I done?"

The sergeant swallowed. "You made me kill the one I am supposed to be protecting."

Ignacio nodded. "Ah! Ahh... So there was something unusual about that one, eh? He put up quite a fight."

Ebonshield continued sardonically. "And he is here in person." As the Balladeer frowned, she pointed a hoof at their VIP. “I present to you the other member of my group, Anonymous, By Appointment to Their Majesties the Princess Celestia and the Princess Luna, the Engineer Royal of Equestria."

Still frowning, Ignacio turned his head left and right. "¡Caramba! I thought I heard somepony else over the clatter of the armor of the pegasus and the buzzing of the horn -- but this Be-Ay-Pee, he is not a pony?"

Anonymous spoke up for himself. "No, I'm not."

Frowning and squinting, Ignacio tried to orient his head towards the source of the sound. "Are you floating in the air? How high up are you?"

Ebonshield answered for their VIP, stepping closer. "He is approximately six hooves tall, Ignacio. A biped -- a distant relative of the monkey."

"Ah... I have never heard of such a creature. Strange."

Ebonshield stepped over to the confused-looking mage. "You made me execute him, Ignacio."

The old colt's confusion was almost instantly replaced with a wry grin, and he swiveled his ears toward the Royal Engineer. "Did I? Oh, well, there is no need to thank me for this service, señor."

‘This service?’

"Now jou will know what to do if the Madre-de-Estrellas ever decides that jou have outlived jour usefulness, haha! And although I was of course focused on the music, I am sure that the 'dancing' was quite entertaining also, hehe."

Glamerspear couldn’t take any more, and burst out. "Just how the Tartarus did you direct a fight you weren't even paying attention to? What the heck kind of magic was that?"

Ignacio turned his head towards Glamerspear. "Ahhh... We have only been introduced for a few minutes, and already the unicorn wishes to know my secrets, hehe."

Honour shot a disapproving glance at the loud-mouthed specialist. She had promised to keep her mouth shut under here.

Glamerspear lowered her head slightly, looking sheepish. "Sorry, Corporal."

Ignacio turned to the earth pony and waved a hoof in the air. "No, no, Caporal -- it is alright. The curiosity about such things, she is only natural."

Collecting himself again, he faced Glamerspear with a grin. "I will indulge jour questions, unicorn..." That same grin turned remarkably sinister. "... if jou will indulge me."

Honour did not like the sound of that.

If Glamerspear said 'yes', just what would she be getting herself into?

Suggested interlude music: Eric Serra - 'Akta', from 'The Fifth Element' [1997]
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4K-J1WSwvkQ

Chapter 72

Lily Glamerspear

There was only one thought on Lily Glamerspear’s mind.

'This is seriously bucked up.'

Everypony knew that when it came to ponies, a horn was an absolutely essential requirement for casting spells. Other creatures could channel raw mana without one -- dragons, for example -- but there’d never been a pegasus sorcerer, or an earth pony wizard. Magic was pervasive, and practically every creature had some connection to that source of power, but for whatever reason, those two pony species didn't get the direct hotline to mana that unicorns did.

They had other abilities, sure, and only a few, crackpot scholars doubted that a pegasus' ability to walk on clouds, or an earth pony's ability to accomplish tremendous feats of endurance, were anything less than magical. But when it came to spellcasting, the hornless races were shut out. Even those vile, verminous pony knock-offs, the Changelings, had a spellcasting leader with a horn!

So if batponies were merely a moon-dwelling, mutated blending of all three Equestrian species, how in the world was this creature standing before her capable of casting spells without the typical focusing equipment sticking out of his head?

And they were spells he had cast, Lily was certain of it -- a healing-touch lullaby and a sand-creature-conjuring ritual song were far too unrelated to be natural expressions of magical power.

Neither of them were unimpressive, either.

Glamerspear wasn’t a medic, but from her scream of pain it was pretty obvious that Ebonshield had suffered a broken leg. Ignacio, the batpony 'Balladeer of Ghosts,' had effortlessly healed it in a matter of seconds, which would be a considerable task for even a journeypone mage with a reasonable background in restorative spells. He looked plenty old enough to be beyond that level of experience, sure, and a master wizard could do it easily, but again -- no horn!

The shadowy, sand-creature battle opponents were a whole other story, on a whole other level, and that’s what was really eating the unicorn up.

‘Just... how!?’

All the ways Lily could think of would be tough, even for an archmage.

But as curious and as eager to learn as she was, she did come down there for a specific purpose. And that purpose was not to learn the secrets of batpony magic.

Ignacio was still staring blindly through Lily with a grin on his face.

"Er... I'd like to, but maybe some other time?" She glanced over at Honour, and then up at her VIP. "...We came here to train the Royal Engineer, after all."

The Corporal gave her a perfunctory nod of approval.

But Anonymous just lifted his eyebrows. "I don't mind a diversion, if it's brief." Folding his arms, he lifted one hand up and scratched at his chin. "To be honest, I feel like I've learned a considerable amount just from watching everything up until now. I have a lot of questions, and I could use a few moments to turn my thoughts over."

‘Yeah, he's not the only one who could use a time-out from all this weirdness.’

To say nothing of Ebonshield! That mare had a lot of questions to answer once they all got out of there!

The Balladeer of Ghosts nodded his head, then picked up his crutch and pointed vaguely in the direction of the Royal Engineer. "Ahhh... I like this one, Pureza. I can see - ehehe! - why the Madre-de-Estrellas requested for him a guardia de corps." Replacing his crutch, he twitched his lips and smacked his mouth. "Such a pity that her request for a volunteer was met with so little enthusiasm."

‘Wait, what?’

Princess Luna had had trouble finding a Night Guard member to serve as the fourth member of the quaternion?

What did that make Sergeant Ebonshield, then?

The dregs of the batponies?

A last-choice candidate?

Hell of a 'last choice,' though, considering how well she’d fought just now!

Lily glanced at the other surface-dwelling members of her quaternion and found them looking equally concerned.

Heedless to the confusion he'd sown, the old batpony colt continued. "And on that subject, Pureza, I should mention also jour brother, Marcos." Ignacio shook his head and grit his teeth. "He has been spreading the most vile calumnies about jou through the rookery, claiming that jou are bringing the shame most immense to jour family, to jour house, to jour temple, to jour race, that jou are abasing jourself, performing all sorts of grotesque and malevolent deeds with Equestrians, and revealing also the most sacred and forbidden secrets." Sneering, pounded his crutch repeatedly into the sand. "Jou must do something about him, Pureza."

Sergeant Ebonshield sighed and pawed a forehoof at the ground. "I know. He made these accusations to me in person last week." She flexed her wings, and as the folding metal blades mounted on them 'shninked' softly against themselves, the meaning of her previous threat to 'feed' Marcos her wings suddenly became quite obvious.

"I made my displeasure at his vulgarity quite clear then. But apparently I did not make the point forcefully enough."

The balladeer just fixed her in his sightless gaze. "There is no reaching a pony like Marcos with reason or threats." He leaned in closer, lowering his voice. "Jou will have to kill him, Pureza."

That was the third batpony death threat Lily had heard, and although it was still shocking -- she heard Sparkshower gasp, too -- it was starting to seem like that was all these cave-dwellers did! They may not actually suck blood, but they sure seemed to love threatening to spill it.

Sergeant Ebonshield didn’t have anything to say in response to that pronouncement, and Ignacio continued, leaning in even further. "He is a Crusader to the bone, Pureza. For him, the Reconquista is not cancelled -- only postponed. He will never accept the way that things are now."

Purity swallowed. "He should have stayed on the moon."

Ignacio leaned back. "Another would have taken his place. There is no shortage of Crusader conquistadores blind to the reality which faces them."

Lily’s batpony sergeant nodded, dejected. "I know. But at least he would not be my brother."

"Brother or no, this is the work for an estelar, and there will be more to come before matters in the Rookery -- to say nothing of the Moon! -- are finally settled."

Ebonshield said nothing, and there was a long pause where the only noises echoing in this 'Grand Hall of Stars' were the soft shuffling of the musicians in their seats. Lily was not quite sure she understood everything that was exchanged just now.

What was it exactly that Marcos didn't accept?

That Princess Luna had reconciled with her sister, Princess Celestia?

That there would be peace between the batponies and Equestria?

Maybe even that Princess Luna was no longer Nightmare Moon?

The thought of the last one made Lily shudder inadvertently, and Ignacio swiveled his head towards her. "Hmm... I have darkened the mood with my words. Allow me, then, to chase away the shadows that I have brought into this hall. Unicorn: jou wish to understand my techniques, jes?"

Lily nodded her head, forgetting his blindness. "I'd like to. It was very impressive, sir."

At this, he gave her a slight bow. "The unicorn thinks that my magic is impressive! And she addresses me with the term of respect! Ahh, I am most flattered, hehe!"

Licking his lips, he turned his head sideways. "Answer my little questions and perform my little tasks and perhaps jou will be enlightened. And the first task is this: retrieve for me my mask using jour magic only, and replace this on my head!"

Weird idea of an apprentice's job. Then again, some of those professors in the Schola Magia did have some weird requests…

He was standing not two hooves away from where he dropped his mask, but obviously, being blind, he would have to scratch around to pick it up. With barely any effort at all, Lily lit up her horn, lifted the mask up, shook the sand off of it, and then floated it over in front of his eyes.

The batpony mage felt the red tassels brush up against his snout. "... Jes... now tie the ribbons in the back, also using jour magic."

Stepping forward to get a better look, she telekinetically seized the two fabric straps, wrapped them around the back of his crest, then tied them into a neat ribbon. "Okay, done."

Ignacio lifted a hoof and inspected her work, adjusting the blindfold slightly. "Good. The mask is the mark of my station, after all..."

‘Seriously?’

‘His uniform is a black sleeping-mask with red leather tassels?’

‘Weird.’

"...Now, tell me, unicorn, could jou not have done with the sand as jou did just now with my mask, and thereby reproduce the effects 'impressive' which I performed?"

Lily had thought about that one already, and her answer came quickly. "I could use my telekinesis to shape blobs of sand, yeah, and coloring them black would be a simple illusion on top of that. But to make them move like actual soldiers, all at the same time?"

She shook her head. "I couldn't keep my concentration on them like that. At best, I could move maybe one or two, and it'd be pretty janky motions, too, like an amateur marionette show. Things like wings flapping or legs pushing wouldn't correlate with actual movement."

Ignacio nodded his head, agreeing with her. "Mm-hmm, but surely jou could get better at this, no? Perhaps I am merely an expert at the puppeteering?"

That was no explanation, and she furrowed her brow. "But... you can't even see what you're doing! How could you sculpt those creatures to look like things you'd never seen before? And how could you make those creatures react so realistically to what Ebonshield did? Their motions were so fluid, it can't possibly have been simple telekinesis."

Once again, the batpony mage hummed in agreement, grinning. "Very well, then, unicorn, if I did not use the telekinesis, then what did I use?"

Lily shook her head again. "I don't know."

Ignacio's grin widened. "Bueno. To admit ignorance is the beginning of knowledge. For today, I will say that jou are correct and that this was indeed not the method. Jour task for the next lesson is to do research and propose some other way or two..."

‘Guh!’

So much for getting answers! And was this strange old colt seriously giving her homework?!

Well… Maybe if she took a stroll through some of the books in the library, she could think of some alternatives. Even the 'De Magia Unicornis' might give her some ideas. It was worth a shot if it gained her some more insight into this batpony's magic.

Ignacio turned towards where Ebonshield was standing. "For when jou are done here today, jou all will be back again, no? One does not learn to be a warrior in a single day, after all."

The sergeant nodded. "We will be back, if we are allowed."

Yawning, Ignacio grumbled. "As the Mother-of-Stars wills, so things shall be. Only, come during the night instead, when we are all awake! Or at least the evening, when we are just waking up."

Ebonshield bowed to him. "I will see if this is possible, Ignacio."

"Very well. Now, is there anything else, or shall I return to what passes for slumber in this hall of the noises cacophonic?"

The Royal Engineer spoke up, glancing at Ebonshield. "I have a question, actually, although I'm worried it may give offense."

From beneath his mask, Lily saw a curious eyebrow rise up on Ignacio's face. "Ah? Yet these are often the questions the most interesting. I insist that jou ask this question, 'Ingeniero Real,' although I make no promises that I shall not be offended, ehehehe."

Anonymous cleared his throat. "It's about etiquette. Estelar Ebanoscudo bows to you, and shows you considerable respect."

Before he could continue, Ignacio interrupted, glancing over at the sergeant with a smile. "She does, does she? Surprising. I would have expected an estelar to profit from my blindness; their schooling drives them to seek such advantages. Perhaps I should not have been so rude, earlier..."

With Ebonshield looking a bit embarrassed by his comment, he turned back to the Royal Engineer. "... And jour question is what, then?"

"Are you simply a higher-ranking member of the Star caste, or do you belong to the Lunars?"

‘Star caste? Lunars?’

Lily was at a loss. Clearly, Ebonshield told Anonymous more than she’d told her.

The Balladeer of Ghosts turned back towards the sergeant, who looked mortified. "Aaaaahhhhh... Jou have indeed been sharing the secrets, Pureza."

Grinning, he waggled his crutch in her direction. "But I am not offended by this; the Mother-of-Stars would approve, I am sure. And jour brother is still in the wrong."

Replacing his stick, he tamped it on the sandy ground. "... What does offend me is that jou have told him of the Five Phases of the Moon, but failed to teach him of the Hidden Sixth!"

‘What the buck, how can there be a secret phase of the moon?’

‘It's right there in the sky!’

Ebonshield swallowed, no longer quite so horrified, but still looking quite concerned. "My Lord was inquisitive as to the social customs of the people in whose territory he was going to tread, so I informed him of the basics."

"Ehe! A curious Lord, and a bold one, also, to have asked this question of me instead of jou!"

Anonymous spoke up in his own defense. "I apologize, sir. I just felt as if you hadn't been properly introduced."

Ignacio licked his lips and then loudly smacked them together. "Jou are correct: I have not been properly introduced. Let us rectify this immediately."

Pausing a moment, he sat up. "... I am the Balladeer of Ghosts Ignacio Blazon, of the House Rima de Serenidad, and I wear the symbol of my Phase, which all Children of the Stars know, and which all pregnant mothers-to-be fear -- the halo of red around the centre of shadow..."

Leaning on his crutch, the batpony raised up his forehooves to his red-fringed black face-mask, then spread them up and outwards in a sweeping mystical gesture.

"... the Eclipse."

Suggested interlude music: Paul Ruskay - 'The Gaalsi Arrive', from 'Homeworld: Deserts of Kharak' [2016]
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bcgQLp7Oj3M&t=2041s Listen to 34:15.

Author's Note

No embed today; timestamped youtube links don't function correctly.

Chapter 73

Artemis Sparkshower

Specialist Artemis Sparkshower wasn’t sure what she should be doing. For a place without any weather at all, things sure were complicated underneath Canterlot Mountain! It seemed like there were an awful lot of rules to follow down there, and Sergeant Ebonshield really only gave her the tiniest sunshower of briefings about them.

For example: this magical musician batpony to whom she’d just been introduced. Sergeant Ebonshield bowed to him a little bit; did that mean she should, too, now that he'd introduced himself?

Before Artemis could glance over at Honour for what she’d hoped would be a reassuring look, Ignacio barked out a loud order. "Now: prostrate yourselves before me, Equestrian dust! Jou are in the presence of an Eclipse, one of the Red Umbras of the Children of the Stars! Show me the respect which I am due!"

Artemis instinctively started to lower her neck, but she glanced left and right and saw no pony else doing it. Then she saw Ebonshield give a very quick, dismissive head-shake. The Balladeer of Ghosts stood there, his forehooves still spread out, his upper lip twitching, and ears flicking -- Artemis got the impression that he was squinting underneath his mask, too.

A few awkward moments passed in silence, before the crippled batpony colt twisted his head towards Ebonshield. "I heard nothing. I should at least have heard the pegasus in all that noisy armor. Are they bowing?"

‘Hey, my bronze plate was extremely well-lubricated this morning! It doesn't get any quieter than this!’

The sergeant sighed before replying. "They are not bowing to you, Ignacio."

With a snort, he lowered his forelegs and settled himself back on his crutch. "Hmph! Jou should have told them that down here, they must bow to anypony to whom jou also bowed."

"I did."

Ignacio perked up. "Ah? Then if jou did truly bow to me, why do they not do so now?"

Ebonshield sighed again, a smile creeping onto her face. "Because I told them not to."

At this, he started to sneer and grumble, but she continued. "And also because they can tell the difference between somepony to whom I bow out of necessity, and somepony to whom I bow out of courtesy and respect."

That statement seemed to soften the grouchy old magical musician's attitude a bit.

"Hrmm." He huffed outwards from his nose, then brushed it with a forehoof. "... Very well, then. I suppose that will be sufficient for me."

Scrunching up his lip once more, he lifted his crutch and quickly poked it in Ebonshield's direction. "But jou, Pureza! Jou hav' some 'splainin' to do! You do jour comrades and jour B-I-P no good to teach them only half-truths and the información incompleta! They will all too easily get into the trouble down here otherwise."

Replacing the crutch once more, he grumbled incoherently, facing down at the sand.

Sergeant Ebonshield gave him a polite head-bow. "I will try to rectify the deficiencies in their knowledge, Ignacio."

‘Uh…’

As much as Artemis would like to know a bit more about what was going on, she wasn’t sure if that was a good idea. Frowning, she cleared her throat, raised one hoof to lift her visor, and spoke up. "But... won't that make your brother even more upset with you? If he's already complaining about what you've told us? You don't have to keep going if it's going to cause trouble."

She caught a rueful look from Ebonshield before Ignacio piped up again. "The pegasus speaks! She makes the noises other than the flutterings of the wings and the clatterings of the metal!" He grinned and continued. "Ehehe, I was beginning to think that perhaps jou were a mute. But to answer jour question, trouble is precisely that which Marcos intends to cause. This is no matter to him if the accusations he speaks are true." Ignacio shook his head, and the red tassels bounced and fluttered. "He knows that Pureza has the permission to share this information. And there is no great secret; whatever she has shared with jou, I am sure, is known to all Children, and should be freely given to those whom we have taken into our confidence."

Ebonshield nodded and looked Artemis in the eyes. "Please understand, Specialist Sparkshower: Marcos does not speak against me, his elder sister. He speaks against the whole entirety of this situation. I am merely the symbol that he can point to as he tries to deny the truth."

Almost at the same time, all four non-batponies -- including the one non-pony! -- said the exact same thing.

"What truth?"
"What truth?"
"What truth?"
"What truth?"

There was a moment of reflection and exchanged glances at the sudden quadruple-outburst, and Ignacio had time to chortle. "¡Jaja! Jou have brought an entire chorus with jou, Pureza."

Ebonshield sighed, then collected herself before answering. "The truth which Princess Luna has already shared with you: that the Children of the Stars have spent the last thousand years preparing to conquer Equestria. And that this is a conquest which now will come never."

She sighed again, slumping at the shoulders. "This is not a simple transition, even for the most open-minded of us. And the Mother-of-Stars, for all her holy intentions and all her divine strength, struggles greatly to bring the Children to embrace this new state of affairs. Ponies like my brother, Marcos, refuse to abandon the Crusader ideology -- an ideology which until two years ago was orthodoxy."

The Balladeer of Ghosts curled his lip up and grunted out an interjection. "And he is not alone. Jou have already met València, and she is but the least of his allies..." He trailed off, and neither of the two batponies seemed to know just what to say next.

That's when Corporal Bound spoke up. "Okay, then. Sergeant, let's get some quick basics down so there's no more surprises, then we can do some training, leave, and talk about the rest back 'upstairs' -- where it's safer."

Ebonshield nodded. "A wise suggestion, Corporal. Let me begin with social rules--Just a moment."

Realizing she was still standing on stilts from the three daggers extended from their mounts on her legs, she reached down her left forehoof and gave a quick tug on her left hind leg to retract its blade. With her hind hooves now evenly planted in the sand, she reared up and in a quick motion pulled back her twin forehoof-blade springs as well, the silvery metal appliances returning to their loaded positions with a satisfying 'click'. Then she lifted her head and called out to the two arena-attendants, who were still perched at the edge of the raised pit, watching the proceedings.

"... ¡Carto! ¡Águila! ..."

The instant she barked out their names, they scrambled up and hustled over towards their group. Once they were close enough she didn’t have to shout, the sergeant continued.

"Find the blade I launched and return her to me, then groom the sand and bring up two of each kind of target."

The young colt & mare wasted no time and gave her a hasty bow, before taking to the air and scrambling off to work.

"¡Sí, Siete!"
"¡Sí, Siete!"

Artemis heard the clinking of armour which wasn’t her own, and found the Royal Engineer twisting his head to watch the two young ponies go.

"Sergeant, I think I've got everyone here sorted into their 'phase' except those two. How about you tell me who they are, and then I'll see if I can regurgitate what you told me about your society."

‘So she really did tell him more than she told me!’

‘Well, he is the Very Important Pony, after all.’

And there hadn't been very much time to prepare, what with Artemis and Lily having been out on the town.

Ebonshield smiled warmly at Anonymous. "Certainly, Great Lord. Carto and Águila are initiates under my tutelage in the School of the Shining Stellar Dance."

Anonymous pulled the helmet up off his head. "So they're members of the 'Star' Phase, then?"

The Sergeant coyly turned her head sideways and looked off. "Not quite; children do not have a Phase. Assuming that they successfully complete their initiation and are apprenticed, then they will be Stars."

Artemis wasn’t really sure she understood any of that, but she looked hopefully up at her VIP, waiting for the explanation.

Anonymous nodded. "Makes sense..."

Holding up one hand with five fingers, he started to count them off. "Okay, so the gist of it is that batpony society has five classes, or Phases. At the top are the priests, brokers, and diplomats, the Lunars. Next are the warriors like Sergeant Ebonshield, the Stars. After that are skilled tradespeople and artists, like the other musicians in the outer ring, the Rocks."

He was temporarily interrupted by an irate grumble from Ignacio. "Skilled! Pah!"

Without missing a beat, the Royal Engineer continued. "Below them are common laborers, the Dust. Finally, there are the outcasts and those who work in ritually unclean professions, the Shadows."

Lowering his hand, he glanced between the four ponies of his bodyguard quaternion. "The whole 'Phase' system exists across the feudal houses of the moon, but you're not born into a Phase as you would be in the sense of being noble- or common-born in Equestria, you're bid on by representatives from each phase within your House, based on your performance in a public school. So your parentage doesn't matter -- or at least, if things are done impartially, it shouldn't."

‘Okay…’

That was a lot to take in at once, but it was not so dissimilar from Equestrian society -- from ancient Equestrian society, in particular -- that it was completely incomprehensible. And the batponies had been split off from Equestria in ancient times, so it made sense. It sure explained the sergeant's insistence on bowing to anyone she had to bow to -- those would be the batpony priests who outranked her!

Ignacio grinned and chuckled, leaning over towards Ebonshield. "Oho! Jes, I like this one very much. He sees even through the lies that jou did not tell, jes?"

‘Lies?’

Before Ebonshield could reply, Anonymous stared quizzically at the Balladeer. "And then there's you, O Balladeer of Ghosts..."

All eyes turned to the blind batpony, who grinned widely. "Ah, jes, there is me, ehehe."

Holding one finger up, Anonymous narrowed his eyes and licked his lips. "I don't know how one gets to be an Eclipse, but if I had to guess what you are -- you're the sorcerers."

The crooked-tooth smile got even bigger. "Ohohohoho!" Ignacio gave a small bow. "...Jou are correct, and I will share with jou now the circumstances of our existence..."

Suggested background music: Justin Bell - 'Conquest,' from 'Tyranny' [2016]
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=poVXGnOdyn8

Inhaling deeply and suddenly becoming grim-faced, he turned his head up to a nonexistent sky. Well, nonexistent unless you count the painted one on the ceiling. And it had a couple of new holes in it.

"All these things that jou have said are true, but there is an exception singular. When a child of the stars is born while the moon is bathed in the red light of the eclipse, this child will never be Shadow, Dust, Rock, Star, or Lunar. Such a child is inevitably... malformed..."

Licking his lips, a wry smile crept back onto his face, and he emitted a dry cackle. "... ehe -- or at least, malformed for any purpose other than the one which is now open to them -- the learning of the magic. A child of the eclipse may be born blind, mute, deaf, wingless, with warped limbs or a deformed body, with teeth that cannot chew or a jaw that cannot close, with a nose that cannot breathe or a tongue that cannot taste..."

Morose, he shook his head. "... Or some combination of all -- and always, always, without the ability to have children of their own."

‘Gosh, that's awful!’

Even Lily seemed to think so, and she blurted out. "You mean batponies can only cast spells if they give up... give up all that?"

With a sinister grin, Ignacio turned to face her direction. "Jes, exactly this! And jou, unicorn? What have jou given up for jour magic?"

‘What a bizarre question!’

Glamerspear scrunched up her nose. "Whaddya mean? I haven't given up anything!"

Chuckling, Ignacio nodded. "Ooohohoho, jes you have. One thing I have learned with certainty, unicorn, is this: we all give up something to be what we are. For the price of my magic, I have paid in many ways. But to be a unicorn, jou have also paid a price."

He gestured a forehoof vaguely in Artemis’ direction, then at Honour and Anonymous. "Jou do not have the wings of a pegasus, or the physique of an earth pony, or the... I don't know what he has, but whatever makes the tall one what he is. All these things are denied to jou, just as many things are denied to me."

‘That's…’

It almost made sense, but Artemis still exchanged weird glances with Lily, who tried to rebut him.

"But... I mean, it would be great to have all three, sure, but compared to what you had to give up, I barely paid anything at all!"

That elicited another chuckle from the old mage. "Ehehe. No, no, unicorn -- jou have paid just as much as I have. Where jou have been given natural strength in magic from jour horn, which is far beyond my own, by the way, jou have also been held back, for jou are blinded to things which cannot be accomplished by raw power alone."

Grinning, he adjusted himself on his crutch. "Which is not to say that every price once paid, cannot sometimes be traded for other things. Perhaps jou may find the skill to learn my technique -- I am curious to find out -- and so jou will overcome this weakness of jours, in exchange for something else -- such as the suspicions of jour comrades for jour strange magic, ehehe! But for me, I must content myself with my crutch to lessen the burden of my crippled limbs."

'...What? Did he just basically say that Lily's horn makes it so easy for her to cast simple spells, she’d find it difficult to learn complicated ones?'

Artemis could almost understand that. Although she’d trained hard to wear her heavy armor, her maneuverability had suffered, and even without her plate on, she wasn’t as agile as many pegasi. And if she were to take the time to train back up in that, what would she be giving up from not continuing to work in armor instead?

It was still a strange philosophy that this Balladeer of Ghosts was proposing.

‘And, hey -- isn't there another counterexample?’

"But what about an alicorn, like the Princesses?"

Ignacio turned towards the pegasus, grinning out of the corner of his mouth. "Ah, jes, the immortal alicornios, sister-goddesses of the Madre-de-Estrellas..."

He shook his head. "I cannot know what they sacrificed to become what they are, or what they still sacrifice, but I think that this must be a heavy price indeed."

He sniffed the air aimlessly. "I have not the eyes to see, but I have felt the burden which lies on the Great Mother while in her presence."

Ignacio's dark, strangely sincere words dug deep into her, and she could tell from the morose looks on her companions' faces that they'd wormed their way into them, as well.

He almost made Artemis believe that the Princesses were somehow suffering for what they are, and she didn’t like to think of Princess Luna -- or Princess Celestia and Princess Cadenza either -- being discomforted in any way. They're the best ponies in Equestria! The kindest, the most generous, the strongest and the smartest!

And they help everypony!

It just wouldn't be right if they had to somehow suffer for all the good they do.

While Artemis, Honour, and Lily ruminated on the strange magician's odd wisdom, Anonymous spoke up again. "Getting back to society, though... Ebonshield paid you respect, but on a personal level. And it doesn't appear that you're obligated to treat her as a superior, either."

Ignacio grit his crooked yellow teeth. "To be an Eclipse is not to be at the top of the mountain, nor the bottom of the mountain, nor anywhere inside or on the slopes, but to float beside." Licking his lips, he settled himself again on his wooden crutch. "No House can mistreat their sorcerers and expect to thrive, or even to survive. The Moon, she is a harsh mistress, and she can be tamed only with the aid of magic."

Shrugging his shoulders, he continued. "But this strength without the authority is not unique only to the Red Umbras. All of the phases must grovel to their betters, jes, but the Stars cannot wage war if the Dust refuse them food or the Rocks refuse them armaments. One cannot fight on an empty belly and with empty hooves, after all, ehehe! Always there is an amount uncertain of the tension between the Phases of a House, and sometimes even across the Houses, when a guild feels their members have been maltreated by superiors."

He cocked his head sideways, smirking. "Jou see now how things are not so simple, and how the Estelar has done jou a disservice by allowing jou to come in here with a picture incomplete?" Ignacio grinned blindly towards Ebonshield. "But I do not begrudge Pureza; not easy to explain things to outsiders when jou have been on the inside for all jour life. I have the advantage that the Eclipse have always been a little more outside than the rest."

One of the batpony initiates -- Carto, the colt -- came scurrying up towards their group, Ebonshield's shiny silvery-metal dagger in his mouth. He reverently placed it down on the sand before her.

"Your blade, mistress!"

Ebonshield seized it and began to re-attach it to her hind leg launcher.

‘Sure is a funny gimmick!’

"Muy bien, Carto."

As the young colt scurried off, Artemis heard the movement of plate armor again, and Anonymous took a half-step forwards. "Would you mind if I had a look at that before you put it away, Sergeant?"

She looked up, a quizzical look on her face, and he smiled in reply. "I'm a little curious about the blade which did in my black-sand doppelgänger earlier."

Removing it from the device, she lifted it up towards him. "Certainly, Great Lord. Only, please to be most careful -- the cutting edges and the tip will still be very sharp."

"Of course."

The Royal Engineer took the blade from her forehoof and stepped back to look it over, then Ignacio shuffled his hooves and grumbled. "We have wasted much time with all this talking. And jour brother will know jou are here -- València will have send him word as soon as you passed her outpost."

Ebonshield turned to the old mage, frowning. "It is almost ten in the morning; nearly everypony is asleep now. And even if he knows, what would Marcos do about this? Attacking me or confronting me now would not suit his purposes."

The Balladeer of Ghosts raised his head up, and seems to crane his head to hear something off in the distance. "I am not so much worried about what Marcos would do..."

He swiveled his head again, and the armored specialist saw his ears perk up and then twitch.

Ebonshield started to look concerned, and then Artemis picked out a noise as well...

Slow hoofsteps, echoing in from the entrance hallway...

A lot of them!

The Balladeer of Ghosts groaned out what sounded like a curse. "...¡Ay-ay-ay, bastarda madre de sombras! Here she is, that snake!"

The sergeant's face went pale, and she hissed out loud, staring up at the entranceway. "Everyone, make ready! The pony to whom we all must bow -- this is her arrival!"

Quickly fixing each of them -- and the two initiates -- in her gaze, she was about to continue, when she was interrupted by a loud cry coming from just beyond the Grand Hall of Stars' entrance.

"Make way! Make way for the Reverend Mother Superior!"

Chapter 74

Honour Bound

Just when things were starting to settle down under Canterlot Mountain, they went and got dangerous again.

If the old mage's curse and Sergeant Ebonshield's sudden panicked demeanor hadn't made it abundantly clear already, the herald's loud proclamation -- made from somewhere out in the hallway -- confirmed that this visitor was not to be trifled with.

Corporal Bound’s batpony guide quickly trotted out in front of her group. "Sheathe or drop your weapons and line up, here, behind me, flanking the Royal Engineer, facing the entrance. Quickly, now; we must be in position before her retinue enters!"

It didn’t take more than a few seconds to sort the positioning out: Anonymous in the middle, with Glamerspear on his left, Bound on his right, and Sparkshower on the outside beside the corporal. That was the traditional ordering for a quaternion retinue: the most experienced soldiers adjacent the VIP and the juniors further out.

Honour noticed that the two attendants, 'Carto' and 'Águila,' had already dropped what they were doing and scurried over to line up behind her, instantly prostrating themselves towards the entrance. Behind her, even the musicians appeared to have put away their instruments and bowed themselves in advance of the Reverend Mother Superior's arrival.

Once assembled, Ebonshield fixed her gaze at the moon-and-stars decorated opening, whispering over her shoulder. "You must all be silent unless specifically bidden to speak. You must also bow when I bow, and do not rise until commanded to."

Not really a big deal for Honour considering what VIP duty normally involves -- except that her tone gave her some very bad vibes. After a quick, worried-looking double-check to make sure that they were all in place, with hoofsteps sounding just outside the chamber, the Sergeant concluded: "...Treat the Reverend Mother Superior as if she was the Princess Luna herself, because in her mind, she is."

‘That's quite a claim.’

Just then, the noise of hoofsteps stopped, and Ebonshield snapped her head back forwards. "She's here! Everyone, down!"

In the blink of an eye, she was hunched down low on her forelegs, and the rest of them get down as well, with the Royal Engineer dropping to his knees and bending over forwards, his hands on the ground -- though not hunched over so far, Honour noticed, that he couldn’t look up and see what was going on.

‘Strange that the hoofsteps stopped, though…’

‘What were they waiting for?’

As if to answer her, a tremendous chant echoed into the room from the hallway.

Strongly recommended background music: Elliot Goldenthal - 'Victorius Titus,' from 'Titus' [1999]
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8tAT_A71WOs

Dressed in white robes with great pointed white hoods and carrying candles in their forehooves, two columns of batponies fluttered slowly into the Grand Hall of Stars, singing as they came. They scarcely reached the main staircase when the percussion section following them picked up as well: more batponies, hovering in the air, banging cymbals and beating huge drums like a parade band. And then the horns further back joined in, blaring out an anthem that would wake the dead, to say nothing of the sleeping ponies whose rooms had entrance off that hallway.

From underneath her helmet's short brow-visor, Honour watched the majestic procession of white-clad ponies proceed inwards, the singers floating down the stairs while the band split off to the left and right, the horn-players, cymbalists, and drummers taking up positions around the inside edge of the outer ring.

There must have been almost eighty of them in all, and it seemed like more of the robed figures were still coming, clad from head to hoof in what appeared to be just a white-colored version of the Night Guard cloak, but with a much taller peak to its hood.

As the music built and the choir kept coming, one particular pony fluttered forward to land at the top of the stairs, clutching a long silver rod topped with a half-moon crescent, and flanked by two candle-bearers separate from the main columns. And unlike the others, she appeared to have her hood thrown back, though there was scarcely any difference -- her muzzle, head, and mane were completely bleach-white, such that it was difficult to tell where the cloak ended and her body began.

While the music built to a crescendo, the unhooded figure landed, surveying the sand-pit below and before her. Finally, a great clattering of cymbals and banging of drums announced the end of the processional, and the exposed batpony forcefully clanged the butt of her rod against the floor, whereupon the entire group of musicians and candle-bearers landed, then sat at attention.

Never mind the Reverend Mother Superior thinking she was Luna -- she must think herself even higher, because not even Princess Luna had this much pomp and circumstance when she visited the Royal Engineer. In Equestria, this kind of ceremony would be reserved for truly special public occasions. Not just barging in on an unauthorized training session by an ostracized member of society.

Apparently satisfied with her retinue's performance, the white-on-white pony fluttered up into the air, her cloak billowing out as she silently flapped her wings and then coasted forwards, trailed from behind by the two mute hooded candle-bearers who had yet to alight on the ground, hovering just behind her like cherubs.

With an elegant grace, the white pony landed just in front of Ebonshield, and Honour found herself trying to squint up at the batpony’s face without making it obvious that she was staring.

There was something very strange about her white color, but she just couldn't put a hoof on it...

Meanwhile, the candle-bearers remained aloft.

After surveying the group before her, that same mare's face broke out into a slim smile, and she waved a forehoof in their group's direction, clutching her silver moon-rod in the other. "Oh, please, do rise; there's no need to bow. This is an informal visit, and we are here incognito."

‘'Incognito'?’

‘With a twenty-piece band and hundred-colt choir announcing her presence?’

‘Is that supposed to be a joke?’

Whatever it was, Honour saw Ebonshield lift her head up and then, after receiving an approving nod from the Reverend Mother, rise up on her forehooves to stand on all fours.

"...There you are, Stellar. And the rest of you, by all means, make yourselves at ease."

Honour waited a half-second for any sign either way from the sergeant, but when none came, she decided to just go through with it, and stand at attention.

Anonymous rose up too, and it was then that it hit her...

‘This white batpony has no accent whatsoever!’

‘She speaks perfect Equestrian -- with a slight Canterlot accent, even!’

Honour Bound could scarcely believe it, given the occasional difficulty that her assigned quaternion-mate had with the tongue, but there it was.

Once the corporal was on her hooves and able to look the Reverend Mother in the eyes, however, she had another revelation. She was completely covered in white face-powder! Her mane, her coat, her lips, her ears, her eyelashes...

Everything!

The only actual color visible anywhere on her was the black of her slit pupil and the faint violet of the iris around it. Even her mane was held back behind her head by a white-powdered headband. Honour didn’t wear cosmetics normally, but she could recognize when someopony had absolutely caked themselves in the stuff. She'd applied so much powder foundation that her blanched-white head reflected the room's lights like...

Well, like the full moon reflects the sun, the earth pony supposed.

And maybe that was the point, if she’s a 'Lunar.'

With a flutter of white-painted eyelashes and another gentle smile behind white-caked lips, the Reverend Mother Superior glanced up at the Royal Engineer, then looked around at the rest of the group.

Honour couldn’t help but notice that Ignacio had done absolutely nothing the whole time, neither bowing nor standing, simply sitting where he was, leaning on his crutch.

Her survey complete, the Reverend Mother fixed Anonymous in her gaze. "We apologize profusely for this interruption, Lord Engineer Anonymous of Equestria, but you understand, we could not simply allow you to depart the Rookery..."

She spoke sweetly, with a smile on her face, but something about her words still had Honour feeling on edge.

Tilting her head back slightly, the Reverend Mother looked down her muzzle at the Sergeant. "... Not without a formal introduction at the very least." The white priestess looked back up at their VIP. "After all, one favored by the Mother-of-Stars must be well-received by her most trusted advisers and attendants, the Lunars."

Closing her eyes, she gave the very slightest of bows, flattening her ears against her poll. "I welcome you to the Rookery of Canterlot, Royal Engineer Anonymous of Equestria. I am the Reverend Mother Superior Carmen, and these Children of the Stars are my flock, kept in trust for the Mother-of-Stars."

‘Well, that's a mouthful.’

It wasn’t the corporal’s job to respond -- and ordinarily, she’d be thankful for that. She was a bodyguard, not a diplomat, after all. But this whole situation was so unnerving that she genuinely wished to freeze time and take a moment to consult with her VIP. She didn’t know exactly what she’d want to tell him, but she had been around enough diplomats that maybe something useful would come out.

That wasn’t happening, though.

The best she could do was just stay firmly at his side, serving as silent reassurance that if anypony tried something, they wouldn't be getting through.

A quick glance up at her VIP showed him appearing to be calm and collected, though his delay in responding made it obvious to Honour he was probably a little flummoxed. His reply, when it came, was accompanied by a short bow at the waist. "Thank you, Reverend Mother Superior. I'm very honored by your welcome."

Before he finished speaking, she'd opened her eyes again and lifted up her head, accepting his words with a slim smile. "The honor is all mine, I assure you. And you may do me the privilege of addressing me as Mother Carmen."

Anonymous gave another short bow. "Of course, Mother Carmen."

The white-powdered Reverend Mother looked over the Royal Engineer’s panoply. "May I say that you are most impressively outfitted. Have you come to the Grand Hall of Stars here today for battle?"

"Only for the purposes of training."

"Ah, of course. And what an entourage you have brought with you! A Valkyrie, a sorceress, and an honor guard as well."

She was less right on that first one and more right on that last one than she realized.

Mother Carmen looked almost disapprovingly down at Sergeant Ebonshield. "...And, of course, our own renowned Purity Ebonshield, of the Stellar school. I take it was her idea to make use of the Rookery's facilities for your education?"

Anonymous nodded. "Yes, Reverend Mother... I hope there's no trouble with that."

Still staring sternly at the sergeant, Carmen shook her head. "Oh, no... No trouble at all..."

Abandoning her stare for a smile, she looked back up at their VIP. "...The honored guests of the Mother-of-Stars are welcome to visit the Rookery and to avail themselves of its services and hospitality at any time."

There was another respectful mini-bow from Anonymous. "I'm most grateful for your generosity."

Beneath the subtext of pleasantries, there was almost a cool sparring of words going on there -- a kind of jockeying for position, a situation which was both familiar and alien at the same time. Familiar, because it's what every other noblepony Honour Bound had been assigned to as a bodyguard seemed to do all day long whenever they weren't exclusively in the presence of brown-nosing toadies or colloquial chums. Alien, because it's a situation that she hadn’t seen Anonymous in. So far, he was handling it well, if perhaps being a bit terse and restrained. Still, as best Honour could determine, it was better to be a bit tight-lipped than to babble away incoherently.

And she’d realized something about the Mother Superior as well: she was old. As impossible as it was to see any wrinkles under all that white makeup, from the burble in Carmen’s voice alone, Honour had to imagine she was at least in her late fifties, if not her sixties.

That drifting-downwards-from-the-stairs act of hers was remarkably well-done for a sexagenarian. Most pegasi started to lose their flexibility by that age; this bleached priest must have been stunningly graceful in her youth.

The Reverend Mother Superior took a breath, her powdered mane bobbing slightly and releasing a few specs of white dust as she moved her head. "I hope you are finding the Stellar useful. It is unusual for a member of her school to serve in this capacity."

Before the Royal Engineer could reply, she gave another thin-white-lipped smile and looked down her muzzle at Ebonshield once more. "Still, one supposes a pony with their skill set is, perhaps ironically, uniquely qualified for such a role. I, for one should certainly prefer to have a Stellar's daggers at my side rather than the more traditional alternative."

There was a whole lot of subtext in that sentence that Honour was certain she didn't get. Anonymous, perhaps equally confused, didn’t seem to know what to say, either, and Carmen pursed her white eyebrows apologetically as she looked up at Honour’s alien colt.

"...At the very least, I hope your Lordship is finding the Stellar adequate in bed."

Honour barely resisted the urge to choke on her own saliva.

‘Have batponies no shame whatsoever about sex?’

‘Do they even have social taboos at all, or is everything permitted?’

Anonymous noisily cleared his throat, though thankfully Sparkshower and Glamerspear managed to keep their composure. From behind, Honour couldn’t see Ebonshield's face, though she could see her gaskin-muscles tense up -- not the sign of a relaxed pony.

Despite the fact that the sergeant herself propositioned the Royal Engineer, the corporal got the impression that Ebonshield was staring daggers at the Reverend Mother for making that comment.

Well, with a word like 'adequate,' it was hardly intended as a compliment.

Heedless to her fury, Carmen continued on. "I understand that the members of her school train in the art of seduction, but I was under the impression that the curriculum can be sadly deficient in the follow-through."

‘What kind of fighting school would teach sex?’

‘She must be just making things up now.’

The Royal Engineer stammered out a response. "I.. uh... I can't say that we've, er, interacted in that manner."

Scandalized by his answer, rather than by her own question, the Reverend Mother turned to the sergeant with a look of shock on her face. "Shadows! I cannot believe what I am hearing! Stellar Ebonshield, surely there must be an explanation for your failure to provide hospitality to the Mother-of-Stars' honored guest!"

The Sergeant bowed her head, and when she spoke, her batpony accent stood in stark contrast to the Reverend Mother's pitch-perfect Equestrian. "Reverend Mother, the offer of hospitality was made."

Carmen furrowed her brow -- at least, Honour thought it did; it was hard to tell under all the powder -- and she scowled down at their comrade. "Clearly, not well enough! This reprehensible act will reflect poorly on the Rookery as a whole!"

Anonymous cleared his throat again, and instantly the Mother Superior's purple eyes snapped up towards him. "Mother Carmen, the Stellar speaks the truth. I, um, appreciated her offer, but respectfully declined."

The same thin smile reappeared on her face. "A choice which was entirely yours to make, of course..." Carmen shook her head, looking at Ebonshield with a certain fondness reminiscent of a mother admonishing a young foal. "...But, since you declined her own services, the Stellar was remiss in failing to find you a suitable alternative."

‘Wait, because he turned her down, the Sergeant was supposed to find him someone else to buck?’

‘Just what kind of 'ancient traditions' do batponies cling to?’

"After all, a colt's strength can be measured by his appetites; indeed, a colt's strength flows from his appetites. And we should not wish an honored guest to go famished." Inhaling deeply, Carmen looks wistfully off to either side. "...Alas! It is as I advised the Mother-of-Stars: you should have been given one of the diplomatic Lunars as a retainer, and not a Star."

That actually didn’t sound like a terrible idea, especially if Princess Luna expected Anonymous to help serve as some kind of bridge between Equestria and the 'Children of the Stars.' And at least a batpony diplomat could have explained some stuff about what was going on down here in the Rookery!

Perking up, the Reverend Mother opened her mouth and smiled, and at least her not-quite-blindingly-white teeth provided some contrast to her bleached face. "The Stars are simply too single-mindedly focused upon the martial arts; it really is a scandalous shame how few of them volunteered for service when the Great Mother made her request. Her Majesty selected one of the finest of those who presented themselves, of course, but the offerings were slim."

The thin white lips closed up again, and Carmen looks up almost seductively at the Royal Engineer. "There are a great many fine mares in the Lunar Phase here in the Rookery, and among their number, I am sure, several nubile candidates could be found whom your Lordship would find appetizing." Lifting an eyebrow, she leaned slightly on her crescent-moon staff. "Please, will you allow me to make up for our past failure by presenting several of them to you at your earliest convenience? Tonight, perhaps?"

Talk about being put on the spot!

Anonymous swallowed, cleared his throat, and took a deep breath -- he did just about everything he could do to get himself a few moments of extra thinking time.

"That's very generous of you, Mother Carmen-"

Honour knew there was a 'but' coming after that, and she probably did, too, yet she interrupted him anyways. "Oh, no. Anything to efface the stain of dishonor which one of our own has sadly painted on us."

To his credit, the Royal Engineer managed to continue on. "-but I must respectfully decline, and I assure you that although I also declined the Stellar's offer, it was entirely for my own, personal reasons. Please, consider the matter settled."

Throughout his refusal, the Reverend Mother looked at him with wide, disbelieving, almost saddened eyes. The kind of look you would give a poor injured little puppy while waiting for a veterinarian.

Well, to be honest, a colt would have to be a bit crazy to turn down an offer like that.

Free sex, no strings attached?

If not with Ebonshield -- who, even if she was almost old enough to be Honour’s mother, was certainly in good enough shape to be her sister -- then with some young filly who believed that servicing one’s needs was a matter of honor, and maybe even a divine obligation, too? That was a far cry from saltines like Glamerspear, who at least expected a form of payment for their services. And, if Honour remembered her history books properly, the batponies wouldn't be the first ones to have 'religious prostitutes' as part of their society.

...They were just the only ones still clinging on to it.

Then again, after providing the Royal Engineer with such a 'gift' as part of their hospitality, wouldn't the batpony Lunars perhaps expect something in return?

Some kind of political influence?

Honour sighed internally. It was becoming obvious to the corporal that the Lunars weren’t just the diplomats and priests of the batponies -- they were the politicians, too.

The Reverend Mother took a moment to digest Anonymous' refusal, but that thin smile returned to her face fairly quickly, and she gave a faint bow. "Oh, of course, of course! I shouldn't wish you to feel pressured in any way..."

The way she said that made it seem like she absolutely would like him to feel pressured, and she was upset at being shut out.

That thought was further reinforced by what she said next. "... Although I must say, if my duties to the Rookery did not occupy so much of my time, I would have been overjoyed to make the initial offer myself."

‘Does that mean what I think it means?’

Carmen smiled at the quaternion. "But I can see that you have already selected a favorite among the previous gifts offered to you by Princess of the Sun. Equestrian attachments are so much different from those of we Children; it is a shame that so much of what is natural and healthy is considered taboo among their kind."

An interesting counterpoint to Honour’s shock that so much of what was private and personal was considered open and public down there.

Licking her lips -- and taking studious care to lick only the barest inside of them, lest she wipe off her white powder -- Mother Carmen seemed to examine the three of Anonymous’ guardsponies. "I must commend the Sun Princess for the selection; they are outstanding exemplars of their kind, and I do not begrudge any of them for having captured your heart before you could sample the Great Mother's finest delicacies."

Honour was really not sure how she felt about being part of that particular culinary metaphor.

The Reverend Mother looked back at Anonymous with her starkly-contrasted purple eyes. "But despite your polite refusal, I shall hold open the prospect that you may perhaps visit us again, desirous of some dessert."

Her almost invisible, self-satisfied smirk melted away into a collected visage of serious diplomacy. "And on that note, I understand that you encountered some difficulties in entering the Rookery."

Princess Luna's writ was literally batted out of Ebonshield's hoof, and they were collectively threatened with violence.

‘Yeah, you could say there were 'some difficulties'.’

Anonymous handled her question diplomatically. "There was a little confusion, which Stellar Ebonshield managed to clear up."

This time, Carmen didn’t even afford Purity a glance. "Of course she did -- but, alas, in the usual brutish way of a Star."

The Reverend shook her head, allowing a few more white flecks of dust to break free from her held-back mane. "Such dark and violent ways are alien to we Lunars, I'm afraid." Closing her eyes and bowing her head slightly, she continued. "I deeply regret that you had to witness such an unfortunate misunderstanding. You should know that the instant news reached my ears of that event, I issued appropriate instructions to ensure it will not happen again."

With her eyes open again, she surveyed the whole group of them. "Rest assured that the next time an honored guest of the Mother-of-Stars attempts to enter the Rookery, they will find themselves welcomed with opened wings..."

Turning to Ebonshield, she raised her eyebrows. "... If only your escort had thought to provide advance notice, this mix-up could have been avoided. Why, your visit is not even recorded in the schedule for the Grand Hall of Stars -- a sloppy omission."

Once again, the sergeant bowed her head and answered. "Reverend Mother, given that the Grand Hall is rarely used at this time of day, I felt this omission would best suit the Great Lord's desire for informal anonymity."

The white pony smiled. "A laudable goal, Stellar. I do not need to guess at where you obtained your assistants, but I am surprised you requested the orchestra's services outside of official channels. Despite being a Star, you must learn to respect the ways of the Rocks. The Guild of Musicians has rules governing their work, and this clandestine operation breaks several of them." Shaking her head, she frowned at the sergeant. "Did you not think of the undue burden you imposed upon them? The hour is late, after all."

Before Ebonshield could reply, Ignacio piped up behind the Corporal. "Not so late that jou could not be roused out of bed to come and preach to us, eh, Reverenda Madre?"

There was a momentary flash of anger barely visible under all that white powder, before the Reverend Mother collected herself and turned towards the heckler. "Ah, Ignacio, our noble Balladeer. I didn't see you back there."

Unlikely, given his exposed position and obviously distinct getup.

Looking the mage up and down, she lifted her eyebrows up high in disbelief. "I am surprised to see you up so late. You are so very fond of your naps."

With a grumble and a twitch of his upper lip, the blind old mage adjusted himself on his crutch. "I am willing to serve at any hour, if the need is genuine."

Carmen nodded disdainfully at him. "Indeed? I shall remember that for the future."

Turning back to Honour's group, she continued with a smile. "Rest assured that I will, of course, smooth over your bodyguard's breach of protocol. We cannot allow her unfortunate failure to affect relations between the Phases."

‘She's really laying into Ebonshield.’

‘And the sergeant is taking absolutely all of it.’

Are the lines between social classes really so clearly drawn that she could barely say two words in her own defense? If an Equestrian noblepony dared to talk down this way to a commoner on the street, they'd probably get a hoof to the jaw for their troubles. Only gentleponies could duel, true, but try and catch a commoner for an assault when the mob protected its own against one of society's upper crust. Not that anything like that happened with any kind of regularity 'upstairs' -- but it did still occasionally happen.

After a moment's pause to allow her words to sink in, the Reverend Mother casually changed her moon-staff over to the other forehoof, then smiled up at the Royal Engineer. "Nonetheless, I should encourage you to come and visit our blessed Rookery during our regular hours of activity -- the evening, and the night. You will find it a far more friendly and inviting place if you but refrain from arriving during the sacred hours of rest."

Anonymous replied with a nod. "I appreciate the offer, Mother Carmen, but I wouldn't want to disturb the Rookery's busy schedule."

Broadening her smile and shaking her head, the Reverend Mother was insistent. "It is no disturbance whatsoever. Why, since you are so enamored with our Grand Hall, I shall speak to the Majordomo of the Stars this very evening and arrange things to provide you with a regular time slot in the early hours of the night. Shall we say seven o'clock?"

That was about when the Royal Engineer usually went for an evening after-dinner jog. It would probably make a more convenient time slot for him than the early morning, which could be better-spent meeting with other members of the Court. And it was true at Sergeant Ebonshield preferred the evening shift, as well, which really lined things up nicely.

Still, Honour would be reluctant to accept anything the Reverend Mother had to offer, for worry of the hidden price tag that might be attached.

Standing next to him, the corporal could hear Anonymous swallow. "You are too generous, Mother Carmen. Seven o'clock would be extremely comfortable, and I cannot refuse your offer. But I fear I will be unable to make use of the time every day, so I beg you to allow the Majordomo to suggest a more relaxed schedule."

Appearing pleased -- for having gotten Anonymous to accept something, maybe? -- the Reverend Mother tilted her head back and resumed her thin smile. "Certainly; I'm sure he will be understanding of your situation."

Taking a deep, satisfied breath, she took in Honour’s group. "Well. This has been a most pleasurable visit, but I should not wish to further interrupt your calisthenics." Still smiling, she bowed. "I look forward to the joyous occasion of our next encounter, Royal Engineer."

Anonymous returned her gesture. "The feeling is mutual, Mother Carmen."

Exiting her bow, she looked each of them in the eyes. "In the exalted name of the Mother-of-Stars, I bid each of you good-day."

From underneath her white robe, she flapped her wings and hovered into the air, flanked by the hooded candle-bearers who elevated themselves above her. Halfway through turning to leave, however, she twisted back around and looked down at Ebonshield.

"...Oh, and Stellar Seven -- it is still only Seven, isn't it?"

‘'Only' seven?’

Didn't Ebonshield say that the only rank above her was the master of the school?

The Sergeant bowed. "Yes, Reverend Mother."

From above, the white-powdered, white-robed old batpony mare smiled down at Honour’s dark-purple escort. "I trust you will take my admonishments in stride, and strive to improve yourself accordingly."

Ebonshield bowed again. "I will, Reverend Mother."

With a polite nod and another smile, the religious, diplomatic, and political leader of the batponies of the Canterlot Mountain Rookery fluttered delicately away towards the staircase. When her shadow left the sandpit ring, the enormous choir and band suddenly stood at attention, then took flight to hover in place.

Out in the hallway, Honour could hear the herald's cry: 'Make way for the Reverend Mother Superior!'

Then, once the painted mare reached the staircase, the choir repeated their 'flying march' entrance in reverse -- except in a dead silence that was almost more impressive than their thunderous entrance.

It really was startling just how quiet these ponies were in flight. Honour hadn't really noticed Ebonshield being particularly loud or quiet, but then again, any noise she might have made around her would surely have been drowned out by Sparkshower's heavy plate.

In a few moments, the Grand Hall of Stars was emptied of the whole mass of candle-bearing, white-cloaked, white-hooded figures, and the herald's repeated cries echoed off in the distance, becoming faint and indistinct. It's when they finally became completely inaudible that the sergeant collapsed to the ground with a heavy sigh.

"Bendita Madre de Estrellas!"

She turned around to face Anonymous, and written across her face was utter exhaustion mixed with complete defeat. Shaking her low-hanging head, she looked up at the corporal and sighed again. "I must apologize for this. I had hoped to shield you, Great Lord, from the necessity of conducting the interactions of this kind. My belief was that by entering the Rookery at this time of day, we could avoid the confrontations."

Sighing one more time, Honour saw her even allow her wings to droop down to the ground -- dragging the sharp silvery blades in the sand. “But clearly I have been most mistaken. And I should have foreseen this interference from the Reverend Mother."

One final sigh, and she continued. "...After all, I have disobeyed her instruction when I selfishly accepted the request of the Princess Luna to enter into your service."

‘What?!’

Author's Note

Sorry about that folks, we were missing the first several paragraphs when I hit the "Publish" button. Fixed!

Chapter 75

Purity Ebonshield

Estelar Siete Pureza Ébanoscudo had drunk her fill of the oil of failure.

All of her plans had come to nought -- or the nearest thing to that, at the very least.

Defeated, she faced the colt whom she was sworn to protect, but had instead led into the deepest trouble.

To his credit, the Engineer Royal maintained his calm and collected stature, his hands resting just above his armored leather skirt on the crimped waist-rim of his cuirass. While the other members of his retinue looked at Ebonshield, each with wide-eyed surprise, furrowed-brow confusion, or what in the case of the Specialist Glamerspear appeared to be a fury most cold and righteous, their VIP spoke with a voice forceful yet dispassionate.

"What do you mean, disobeyed? Is that why she doesn't seem to like you?"

There was much to answer for; the orders of the Reverend Mother Superior were as good a place as any at which to begin. She bowed her head to the one who held her key to the surface world in his hands.

"Yes, Great Lord, partially this is so..." Remembering that his people's customs more closely resembled those of Equestrians rather than the Children, she rose back up again before continuing. "...You heard the Reverend Mother say that she advised the Princess Luna to select a Lunar instead of a Star to be the fourth member of your quaternion; this advice was given with the energy and forcefulness considerable."

She shrugged, and she couldn’t help but smile halfheartedly as she remembered the incident in question, having been present for the whole thing. "But, as the legends tell us, the Mother-of-Stars is headstrong, and not easily swayed from a chosen course of action. She refused the Reverend Mother, insisting that a Star, a soldier, must be found to match the Royal Guardsponies already in your service. And so, shortly after the Mother-of-Stars made her request for volunteers to the masters of the Stars, inviting them to present their finest from which she would select, Mother Carmen commanded them all in secret that none must be found willing, available, or able."

Anonymous nodded. "So that Her Majesty would be forced, in the end, to select a Lunar anyways."

Ebonshield gave a small bow in return. "Precisely, Great Lord."

Sighing, she looked wistfully off towards the entryway. "But, avaricious of the prospect for free access to the daylight surface, and also resentful of her attempt to thwart the Princess, I defied the command of the Reverend Mother. And thus, when the Mother-of-Stars returned to choose her candidate, she found only one presented to her: myself."

From just past the group of the VIP and his Equestrian bodyguards, the Balladeer of Ghosts angrily tapped his crutch on the sand for attention. "A display most shameful! The 'masters' of the Stars, feh! Stars ought to have the spine to stand up to her machinations!"

With that outburst complete, the Engineer Royal turned away from Ignacio and back to Ebonshield, and she nodded towards her admirer. "That they did not should tell you, O Great Lord, the power which wields the Reverend Mother. You handled her well, I think, and gave little ground, but beware if you should deny her anything of substance. She does not enjoy losing."

Anonymous stroked his chin with one hand. "You make it sound like a conflict is inevitable."

The Estelar shrugged and shook her head, remorseful. "I have known her long enough to say without a doubt that there will be, Great Lord, unless you are prepared to bow to her will completely. This was the reason that I wished to delay your introduction and give you time to habituate yourself to our ways. But in this, I have failed you completely and absolutely, and I must render to you the apologies profuse and sincere."

Getting down on her forelegs, she bowed, and this time, she brought her head all the way down, and remained there. "Please forgive my mistake, Great Lord Anonymous. Although I have come to serve you partially out of my own greed, I scheduled your entrance here out of altruism, to better fulfill the wish of the Mother-of-Stars that you may come to know the Children. I will understand, and will ensure that the Her Majesty the Princess will as well, if you wish no longer to employ my services as the result of this failure. I will also understand completely if you should wish to never again set foot inside the Rookery."

Surprisingly, Anonymous laughed. "Haha! Sorry -- I shouldn't laugh while you're apologizing, Sergeant. But I absolutely cannot dismiss you now and, especially since we have permission, we absolutely will be returning to the Rookery -- tonight, even."

Confused, she looked up at him, keeping her head down low. Corporal Bound and Specialist Glamerspear beheld him with silent incredulity, but the Royal Engineer just smiled down at the sergeant, beckoning her up with a wave of his arm.

"Come on, get back up. I accept your apology, and I want to get some training done so we can have a rest before coming back down in here tonight."

The batpony started to get back up to her hooves, when Specialist Glamerspear instantly snapped up at Anonymous. "You can't be serious, sir! They nearly tried to kill us when we came in this time!"

The Royal Engineer nodded. "Sure, but we have permission from the Reverend Mother, now -- and that means something, doesn't it, Sergeant?"

Still puzzled, she nodded. "Yes, having come to an agreement with the Mother Carmen, we shall receive no more than perhaps dirty looks from the Righteous Hatchets at the gates -- and I imagine that these will be directed at me exclusively."

At her answer, the Engineer Royal redoubled his smile. "Perfect. Because I want to know everything there is to know about this."

From behind, he pulled out her dagger -- the one which she had launched into his shadow-clone. He held the knife by the thin, cylindrical grip which attached the weapon to the spring mechanisms on her legs, and all three Equestrian ponies looked up at the dagger, scrunching up their faces in confusion, but they seemed unable to see anything of significance -- the same with Ebonshield.

After a brief inspection, Corporal Bound turned to him. "I don't understand, sir. It's just a polished iron dagger."

Smirking, he pointed at the blade. "Look closer, Corporal. See the minuscule, irregular bands of light and dark across the surface? Ever seen that in an iron weapon before?"

The corporal shook her head.

Anonymous looked at Ebonshield and raised an eyebrow. "That's because this is crucible steel -- and I want the recipe, Sergeant."

Ebonshield could not have been more confused than she was at this moment now. "No comprende-- pardon, I do not understand, Great Lord. While true that this is a weapon particularly fine, most of the blades of the Children have an appearance similar."

That just made him smile even wider, and he laughed from deep in his belly. "Haha, of course! Not much copper and tin on the moon, is there? But there's plenty of iron -- and carbon, too. And when your people got banished up there, they had to make do with what they had." Shaking the weapon in his hand, he looked down at everypony else. "While Equestria's never been forced to give up bronze, the batponies faced the same challenges as my people did when their favorite material ran short -- and came to the same conclusion: creating steel."

Chuckling to himself, he turned the blade over and admired the weapon, running his fingers along the narrow fuller from the guard up to the point. "Except, where my people still had enough bronze around for comparison, I bet you batponies are so deprived of the stuff, you don't even know how wondrous a material you've got."

Nodding at Specialist Sparkshower, he waved the blade in her direction. "Why, I bet you could gouge up her armor by slashing it with this dagger, and you wouldn't even chip the blade. Wootz steel! Damascus steel! My people crossed mountains and oceans to trade for the stuff; conquerors claimed it as a prize, preferring it to gold and silver."

After having mesmerized everyone with his story, the Royal Engineer crouched down and held the dagger up in front of Ebonshield’s face. "If there's someone in the Rookery here who knows how to make this from the raw ingredients, I want to meet them. Tonight, if possible. I need the formula and their expertise -- and, a bit like your Reverend Mother, I won't take 'no' for an answer."

Flicking the blade around, he presented the dagger grip-first to her, and she hesitantly reached up to take her weapon back. "There is a farrier -- a blacksmith -- in the Rookery, though they work from bars imported from the Moon which already have this pattern... But I am sure that by speaking with them we can find the additional contacts which you require."

The instant she lifted the blade from his grasp, Anonymous balled his hand up into a fist and jerked the appendage back towards his head. "Perfect! Sergeant, you're going to save me weeks -- or even months! -- of trial-and-error experimentation." Looking around, beaming with confidence and energy, he slammed that fist into his free hand.

As Ebonshield deftly reloaded her hoof-blade device, she was reminded of the power and the resilience of the shadow-creature which nearly bested her. No wonder Ignacio was able to conjure a beast so mighty, if the Great Lord was so energetic!

"A working steam-car, and a shortcut to steel in the same week! Fantastic, absolutely fantastic! Now, let's get to fighting! Forget building things for a moment, I want to smash some stuff!"

Still dazed from the most rapid shift in emotions, she looked up at her present employer. "You have no more questions for me, Great Lord? About the things which have happened just now?"

Smiling, he looked her over, then glanced at the rest of the quaternion. "Oh, I certainly do -- and I'm sure your comrades do, as well. But let's take care of those later. I've got too much energy to stand around and talk any more! Come on, have your apprentices bring those target dummies out here!"

Crouching down, he picked up his mace. "Bronze isn't dead quite yet, and I want to see what I can make it do!" Without waiting for a reply, he stepped away and pulled his shield off his back.

‘Shadows below!’

The batpony still felt deeply confused by what had happened. Still, it was as Master Draxon had told her: 'Life is never stagnation.'

‘Certainly there is no stagnation here!’

With her battle-sisters appearing just as perplexed, she regained her confidence and called out to her initiates to resume the training.

‘After all, when the music calls one to dance, one must dance!’

Chapter 76

Purity Ebonshield

Estelar Siete Pureza Ébanoscudo was most thankful that there were the four of them training just the one Engineer Royal. Educating him was like to teach a young, strapping colt, full of boundless energy and enthusiasm, yet with none of the lazy ignorance of youth or the obnoxious petulance of adolescence. He had a good physique, yes, but also he learned from his mistakes, and he listened attentively when anyone spoke to him.

After Ignacio had retired back to his minbar, the initiates Carto and Águila brought up training dummies and held them fast as Anonymous demolished them with repeated blows of his mace. That was a heavy, brutal weapon, and Ebonshield could see how wielding the lump of metal tired her VIP. As his shadow had made clear earlier, the mace was too slow to catch a nimble fighter like herself, but he demonstrated now just how destructive the Minotaur's "twenty blows mace" was against whatever he could hit.

After reducing the dummies to scraps of wicker and burlap hanging off wooden frames, he concluded by obliterating the frames themselves by learning to strike with the edge and the central boss of his shield as well. Though he seemed to enjoy greatly this destruction, this did not occupy him for long; he demanded shortly after that he be assailed in turn, that he might learn to defend himself.

The Specialist Glamerspear was first; she launched her ‘training’ projectiles at a distance, teaching him to dodge and to guard with the most protected parts of his body, and also to angle his shield properly against strikes. These principles he grasped quickly, and soon she was shooting at him as he jogged around the arena, avoiding or deflecting many of her attacks. And even when she hit something other than sand, armor, or shield, he did not need long to recover.

But this was not enough for him either.

He demanded next that the Specialist Sparkshower charge at him with practice spears, teaching him to brace and dig in as necessary. This she did, with charge after charge that held fast against with his shield, until twelve lances lay broken on the arena floor, the splinters hastily brushed up by the initiates. When Ebonshield asked, he complained that his shoulder was a little sore, but even this was solved simply by discarding the shield.

Now comfortable against a pegasus' charge and a unicorn's projectiles, and with the magic of that unicorn spent and the wings of that pegasus worn out, then came the turn of the Corporal Bound to don soft padded horseshoes and lash out against him, without his shield. Again, he proved himself agile and durable, taking blows and learning quickly to weave his body to avoid or deflect them with his armor. This went on for some time, until the earth pony of considerable fortitude was exhausted, panting, and drenched with white sweat-foam.

Ebonshield was next.

After the Engineer Royal redonned his shield and she exchanged her blades of metal with ones of wood instead, they began to spar. With her, at least, he was not on top of things, and she exploited opportunity after opportunity to find a way past his defenses. Yet her employer most demanding still commanded that she give him more, and cast down his shield and mace to seize two more of the wooden practice daggers for himself, ordering that she continue to fight him in mock, and teach him the technique which had bested his shadow.

For certain, in the art of duelling he did not know the proper ways, and there were many times of many rapid ends, as she found easily the areas undefended against which to place her own wooden blades. But, if the attributes physical demonstrated thus far had not sufficiently impressed her, then the ability of the Engineer Royal to learn from his mistakes was additionally surprising. Each opening she exploited and exposed was soon closed once explained, and though the batpony soon found new ones or reopened the old ones, the Engineer Royal did at least manage to make her work to find them.

And that work was exhausting.

By the time her body was almost ready to give up, the two practice blades were sufficiently his own that he was able to draw the match out long past the time when things should have been over already. And the end came unexpectedly: seeing an opportunity to strike from behind, the sergeant leapt over him and twisted onto her back as she flew.

This was a good idea, and she was certain of striking his exposed rear. Yet she executed the maneuver too slowly, and as she sailed over his head, her long-armed enemy simply reached up and seized her with a grip most firm, before tumbling over backwards and driving them both into the sand. The strange grab-and-throw was itself inefficient action, ill-suited for a real fight, but he performed well nonetheless by quickly bringing a wooden blade up against Ebonshield’s throat even as she lay there, stunned from the surprise, the impact, and the firmness by which he held her body.

"¡Cedo!"

"Hah! Whoo! Gotcha at last..."

Breathing heavily, and even choking a bit on his own saliva, he unhooked his arm and released her from his grasp, removing his hand from the sweat-soaked fur of her abdomen as he tried to sit up.

She felt the sensations most conflicted.

On the one wing, she was disappointed to have failed to find her mark.

On the other, what a thrilling end to their dance mutual!

"... Welcome to -- cough -- suplex city, Sarge."

All she could do was lie on the sand and try to recover her breath, her body drenched in white sweat-foam. A batpony ought to beat her wings to cool herself, but to beat her wings at this point would do little more than drain the last drops of energy in her; for now, she simply had to 'shut down' her body and wait out the heat.

Sitting beside her, their VIP pulled off his helmet and shook his head with vigor, spraying his own salty moisture everywhere. Coughing again, he brushed the strands of hair out of his eyes, then placed the helmet down on the ground.

"Alright. I think I'm done for today. Did I do alright?"

Ebonshield was far too tired to answer him, but thankfully, she was not alone.

The Specialist Glamerspear waved a hoof angrily at the Engineer Royal. "’Alright’! After five hours down here, and four ponies KO'd to show for us, he asks us if he did alright!"

Slowly and lethargically, the three Equestrians approached, and Ebonshield felt strong enough to at least roll over onto her belly.

Specialist Sparkshower, her visor locked up, floated down and picked up the helmet of their VIP as he struggled to his feet. "You did great, sir! This was awesome! I'm tired too, but I can't wait to come back!"

With a tremendous grunt that left Ebonshield at least a little satisfied that the Engineer Royal was perhaps just as tired as she was, her VIP heaved himself up and took back the head-piece.

Suddenly regretful, the pegasus looked down as Ebonshield, too, painfully got to her hooves. "... Oh... But maybe I should bring my own practice lances next time. I feel a bit bad breaking all of the batpony ones down here."

Shrugging the sand off, the weary batpony shook her head at her. "While considerate of you to think this, Specialist, your concern is unnecessary. There is no shortage of such items in the Grand Hall of Stars. And the Rocks who made them will be satisfied to know that they were put to such good use."

This pleased the pegasus, who smiled eagerly.

The moment Ebonshield was back on her hooves, the two initiates rushed forward, carrying a water-jug and a number of metal cups, which they immediately proceeded to dispense amongst the group. She’d lost count of the number of times now that refreshments had been distributed; as the Specialist Glamerspear said, they had been down in the Rookery for five hours, and a long five hours as well. The fighting had not been continuous by any means, but still!

After taking a sip of water, Anonymous dusted the sand off of his helmet and kilt. "Well, I'm disgusting under this armor. Are those showers in those alcoves around the ring, Sergeant?"

She nodded. "Yes, Great Lord. For washing away the sweat and sand."

He sighed. "And of course, I was so excited that I forgot to bring a change of clothes. Something to remember for next time. You all go ahead and rinse off if you want to; I'll wait until we're back in the palace."

Ebonshield was confused momentarily before realizing that the Great Lord did not wish to return to the palace in only his undergarments, particularly if these were soaking wet from the shower. And re-donning the sweaty armor would, after all, be counterproductive.

Oh well!

She had hoped perhaps to be able to get a better look at the creature who had, in the end, wrestled her forcefully to the ground. A shame the arena did not have proper walls against which he could have pinned her instead!

Rolling his shoulders and then stretching out his arms sideways, the Engineer Royal grimaced in pain. "...After the workout you four gave me, I need a nice, long hot bath and a nap... and maybe a massage, too."

Perking up again, the Specialist Sparkshower lowered her water-cup, which has already been twice refilled by the eager Águila, and exclaims brightly. "Oh! Lily and I know where you can get a great massage! -- I mean, a great massage, sir!"

For her impetuous outburst, she received a tired scowl from the corporal and a smile from Anonymous. "Have a favorite spa in town, do you? I imagine it's this place you went on Sunday?"

The pegasus nodded enthusiastically. "Yes, sir! Tell him, Lily!"

For her part, the unicorn appeared less enthusiastic. "It's, uh... Well, it's a nice little place, sir. Clean. Large baths. Good service..."

She scratched one forehoof at the nape of her neck, underneath her helmet. "... Just maybe a bit low-brow for somepony of the Blue Chamber, that's all."

Anonymous took another sip of water. "Oh? I imagine there's a private members-only club or something I ought to be going to instead?"

Glamerspear forced a smile. "Something like that, sir. The kind you'd need an invitation to."

Sighing, he laughed. "Heh. Well, I could use a spa afternoon now, to be honest. No time for an invitation and an application and vetting process and all that. Let's try this place of yours. I'll take a quick rinse and then we can drive over there in the steam car. How about it, Corporal? My treat."

At the mention of that vehicle, the cheeks of Corporal Bound changed from a dark brown to a color much lighter, and Ebonshield could see her swallow nervously.

"Yes, sir."

Anonymous turned to the batpony. "You too, Sergeant. If we're done here, I mean."

She took a moment to think if there was anything left to clean up. Ignacio was asleep in his minbar -- she could hear him snoring. No sense in waking him up just to give thanks and to say good-bye. Her initiates had done their duties and could now be dismissed to tidy the arena before retiring to bed. The Reverend Mother had said her piece, and departed. Her accounts with the band and its music-director were already settled, as well.

Quite contrary to everything that Carmen had said, Tonino had stated categorically that he and his 'band of rocks,' as Ignacio had affectionately disparaged them, were quite happy to play for her and her colorful comrades, as well as their alien VIP, at any hour of the day whatsoever. Provided, of course, that she continued to supply them with contraband materials 'borrowed' from the palace storehouse such as tobacco and alcohol.

On that front there was no difficulty -- the storerooms were trivial to break into for someone who already had access to the palace, and they were also so amply supplied that she doubted her unauthorized requisitions would ever be noticed.

But perhaps it would still be best to obtain the payments officially for next time.

That was something which could be discussed later, when her VIP felt enthusiastic once more to return for a second training session -- if there would even be such a thing. She looked up at the strange bipedal creature, with the smile infectious, the endurance incredible, the movements agile, and the grip strong and firm...

"If you are satisfied, then we are finished here today, Great Lord. And I am pleased to accompany you to such a place."

"Great! What did you say it was called again, Specialist?"

Ebonshield did not hear the answer. Frowning, she continued to examine her VIP.

He did beat her, in the end.

That was significant. None of the sixes had yet managed this, and not for the lack of trying. She had been exhausted, but he had been tired also. And his shadow had put up a considerable fight. Could this creature be the one to satisfy the command of her Master Draxon? It would remain to be seen if the Engineer Royal truly wished for additional lessons. But if he did...

Allowing herself a few moments more of the daydreams, she headed to one of the shower-alcoves and quickly rinsed herself off, then prepared to escort her VIP out of the Rookery, reloading her blade-devices with their weapons lethal.

She knew Mother Carmen well enough to think that merely because she said that they would not be molested on the way out, that did not mean that this would be true. There might still be a fight waiting for them before they could reach the attractive young Lieutenant Rapid and his little Royal Under-mountain Constabulary border-post inside the orchard shed.

After all, Carmen had said nothing about Marcos...

Chapter 77

Purity Ebonshield

Estelar Siete Pureza Ébanoscudo had ascended to heaven -- the sixth, at least.

Or perhaps even the seventh.

She took another bite of the delightful pleasure which the menu had the audacity to describe as merely a 'sandwich.'

Such an understatement!

True, there were two slices of bread -- each a rich, fluffy thing with a fine crust and a taste sharp and tantalizing. 'Sourdough,' they called her, and the word did not seem to do the wonderful thing justice. Ebonshield could have sat there and devoured a whole loaf alone, but no -- better still was to come. For, smeared all across this fresh bread was a green spread of a richness unfathomable. Each bite, a texture different, a taste novel! There were other ingredients, to be sure: a few leaves of the spinach, an egg poached, even some shavings of what was perhaps cheese. And these were valuable additions, yes, though to her, they were but decorations upon the ingredients primary.

‘Ahhh!’

Some said that the Princess of the Sun favored the cake as the pinnacle of the arts gastronomical. For certain, they must be grand affairs indeed which please Her Majesty; but Ebonshield, humble servant of the Moon, would satisfy herself with the delights offered to her by the 'Avocado Sourdough Sandwich.'

Savoring another bite, she looked around at the baths of the 'Spa Dalecarlia.' She lay, luxuriously enveloped by a bathrobe of cotton, upon a stretched-out chaise made of wood and wicker, facing the great warm pool in which even now Specialist Sparkshower frolicked like a veritable fish. Specialist Glamerspear was beside her, reclining with her forehooves hooked over behind her, sitting inside the edge of what Ebonshield had been told was called a 'yacuzzi' -- a pool very hot, where the water is also pumped forcefully in through pipes by some machinery unseen.

The affair sounded delightful; she almost could not wait to finish her sandwich to enter. Yet she was treasuring each mouthful far too much to wish to see the end.

‘What a place fantastic this is!’

And what a generous Great Lord she served to have paid their entrance fee!

The day had not gone as she had planned. The brutally cold welcome by the hachadores, the embarrassing and disconcerting use of her employer's shadow by Ignacio, the showdown between him and her own comrades, the embarrassing revelations which resulted, and, worst of all, the interruption from the Reverend Mother Carmen. On top of all this, add also the exhaustion of training her master indefatigable.

And yet, there she was, in the early afternoon, enjoying the food most delicious in a place of the relaxation supreme, with a Great Lord who was not only pleased with how the day in the Rookery had gone, but eager also to return tonight! By the grace of the Mother-of-Stars, their exit had been uneventful; Carmen, it seemed, had at least been truthful in her promise of free passage. And the Engineer Royal had been so excited that he hustled back up the mountain passage and over to the palace at a speedy jog, before throwing off his armor and taking a quick shower while simultaneously devouring a croissant left over from breakfast. Then, a quick ride in his 'automobile' and they arrived at this place enchanting with the symbol of the little wooden pony painted in the bright red, accented with delicate white and blue.

That was over an hour ago; Ebonshield had taken some refreshment in the baths and then ordered lunch, while the Specialists were both too famished to wait before eating. Sparkshower had commanded an omelette nearly as big as her head, and finished the plate almost in a single gulp, while Glamerspear took only a small salad, and looked a little upset as she forced herself to eat, looking wishfully over at the plate of her comrade.

‘Tut-tut-tut!’

The unicorn had perhaps taken the playful barbs of the farrier Ironhoof too seriously, and now made to slim herself down. That was a silly thing, since she was hardly much larger than the batpony was. Ebonshield resolved to have a talk with her later; to remind her that plentiful are the colts who appreciate ‘cushioning.’

‘Ah... but there is the Gala which approaches rapidly.’

Perhaps she was simply being very cautious not to outgrow the dress which she had already ordered? Regardless, how unfortunate that after a morning of difficult work in what must have been a taxing and alien environment, she suffered from an empty belly also.

Well, that was an hour ago and at least now, she seemed to be enjoying herself in the 'yacuzzi.'

Instead of joining them for lunch, the Great Lord had gone off to receive a massage to soothe his muscles; the Corporal Bound had insisted upon remaining with him. In her own words, she would stand by him if not inside the room, then at least outside. Ebonshield sensed that perhaps there was something more than duty only which drove her stubborn insistence upon following rules 'to the letter.'

Although, she had gotten a look at his masseuse, and that was a brown-feathered griffon of considerable size. Conceivably, he could need the security of an escort after all! Ebonshield could not imagine how such talons could give a massage, but her Great Lord had not seemed concerned.

‘Eh!’

As his massage was only scheduled for half an hour, and this was an hour ago, perhaps he had been massacred by the claws of that feathered beast, and rushed to the hospital… ‘Aha!’ Now this would be a story to tell -- impervious to the intense training of four ponies, but having fallen victim to a griffon masseuse!

Ebonshield took another bite of her slice of what she had decided was indeed the seventh heaven, and considered more reasonable alternatives as to why he had not yet joined the rest of them at the pools.

‘Hmm…’

Perhaps he so enjoyed the experience, that he asked for more?

Or perhaps he had needed more, so deep were his aches?

Or, perhaps even, he had needed more of something a little extra 'especial'?

With a griffon!

Well, there was something to be said for their feathery tuft.

Still, to have refused the offer of Mother Carmen for the services of a comely batpony Lunar, and yet to also partake of another creature on the same day -- that would be something indeed! But, no, she determined there must be something else.

Perhaps he had simply wanted another shower afterwards.

Ebonshield looked longingly down at the final mouthful of her sandwich. Oh, she would have the monkey for this delight again soon. She must find out if the palace pantry had these 'avocados' and this 'sourdough.' They might make for even more valuable contraband with which to bribe favors from her fellow Children.

With a mixture of delight that there was one more bite and regret that the next bite was the last, she licked her lips and tenderly savored the end of her lunch. The last chew and final swallow moved her almost to things that would not be polite to do in the public, even if the 'Spa Dalecarlia' was not very busy at this time of the early afternoon.

The batpony looked around -- in addition to the two other members of her quaternion, there were a few scattered ponies swimming slowly back and forth in the hot and cold pools, or relaxing in the chaises, reading or dozing quietly. Every now and again, the wooden door of the sauna at the back opened with a squeak to allow one or two ponies to enter or leave those steamy premises, before springing back closed with a muffled 'bom.'

Making up her mind to once again enjoy the warm embrace of the hot pool before trying this 'yacuzzi,' she dusted the final crumbs from her forehooves and undid her bathrobe, before standing up and shaking the garment off onto her seat. Quietly, she trod forward on the wet tiles -- they were not unlike those of the Cave of Pillars, but square, and of course evenly set. When she reached the edge, she tucked her wings tight in and plunged in, aiming to make as little of a splash as possible. Returning to the surface, she spotted the Specialist Sparkshower reclining on her back, floating on the surface with her wings outstretched and eyes half-closed.

‘Sleeping on water!’

‘As if sleeping on the clouds themselves was not incredible enough!’

And taking to water as easily as she did...

On the moon, only in the greatest halls of the most wealthy Rocks could be found such pools of water. Or else in certain of the Schools of the Stars, where they were used for training, or in the Temples of the Lunars, where they were a thing to be respected and kept sacred -- not swam in for pleasure and relaxation!

With a sigh, she turned on her back and tried to stretch out her wings as well, seeing if she could manage to find a way to float as the Specialist did. This was a struggle; every time she thought that she had some one part of her body now held up, another seemed to sink dangerously back down.

Ebonshield could swim, so there was no terror, but there was certainly frustration.

Her comrade with the mane and the heart of gold turned her head towards the batpony-- and she was shocked to realize just how closely she had floated without her notice.

Clearly, she was still tired.

"You've got to just let yourself sag down a bit, Sarge."

"¿Qué? Eh..- I mean, what do you say, Specialist?"

She raised a leg and a forehoof, and Ebonshield saw her torso sink down deep into the water. "You're trying to stay on top of the water, Sergeant. That won't work. Use the buoyancy of your body to hold the rest of you up. See?"

Attempting to emulate her, she took a deep breath and watched her belly disappear into a blur. But her hooves -- and her head -- remained up, as she said.

Interesting; to accept a little failure in exchange for a greater victory. It was the kind of lesson that Master Draxon might have taught, if he had been an instructor of swimming.

"Aha!"

With a smile, Ebonshield looked over at the pegasus, and she smiled likewise back at her. Now able to relax a little, she found her senses returning to her -- and heard the unmistakable slip-slap of two feet walking along a tile pathway towards the pool.

Accompanied, of course, by four hooves with sabots upon them.

Shortly thereafter, the Engineer Royal entered the room, wearing a cotton bathrobe which was so large in the shoulders and so slim in the hips that it clearly was meant for a minotaur.

And right behind him is Corporal Bound. She had left her armor, helmet, and spears in the change-room locker, but still wore her sabots. 'Just in case,' she had said.

The Specialist Sparkshower flapped her wings to push herself close to the edge. "Hello, sir! Did you enjoy your massage?"

With a yawn, he nodded his head as he selected a chaise for himself. "Yes, so much so that I'm afraid I dozed off afterwards. That 'Nina' played my muscles like a grand piano."

"Ooh, yeah? She gives great wing-massages, too!"

‘Wing-massage?’

Seeking to join the conversation, Ebonshield tried to flap herself casually closer as well, but instead of propelling herself forwards, she found her head pushed suddenly underneath the water. This ended her attempt at the floating upside-down, and, sputtering a bit, she re-emerged on the surface, with her hooves properly underneath herself.

"Pfft, cough-cough. To sleep after such a morning is nothing of which to be apologetic, Great Lord. Indeed, resting well would be wise before undertaking activities tonight."

"Sure, sure... But I can do that back at the palace. While we're at the spa I might as well make use of the pools and the hot tub."

Removing the enormous white robe, he placed it on his chaise and turned to face the pool.

‘¡Oye, chico!’

What clothes remained left quite little to the imagination! And on a mare -- even a batpony mare -- that small triangular piece of fabric would be considered most provocative. But, for a creature with bare skin, he should, alas, probably conceal his genitals in this manner. The stretchy red material covering his front was joined by a similar patch at the back which covered his rear.

With a small chuckle, he caught Ebonshield -- and Sparkshower and Glamerspear, too, though the Corporal Bound was forcing herself to look away -- admiring his outfit. "...Heh, it's a good thing I had a couple pairs of Speedos made last year for my initial wardrobe. Otherwise I'd have to be skinny-dipping in here."

Stepping forward, he slipped his long, powerful legs into the warm pool and sat himself down at the edge.

"... Everyone enjoy their lunch?"

In reply, he received one enthusiastic nod from Sparkshower, one casual nod from Glamerspear, and merely a smile of deepest satisfaction from Ebonshield.

"Good to hear. Corporal, now that you're not on the clock, why don't you get something off the menu for yourself?"

"Yes, sir." She turned to walk over to one of the tables, then stopped and looked over her shoulder. "Didn't you want something to eat as well, sir?"

He shook his head. "I had that snack on the way here. if I eat anything now, I'll fall asleep immediately. I plan on having an early dinner and then going to bed until around midnight."

This seemed to frustrate the corporal. "Well... Then I'll do the same, if that's all right with you, sir."

He shrugged. "Whatever you please, Corporal."

Reaching down, he cupped some of the water in his hands, and splashed against his firm chest.

‘Mmm…’

Ebonshield was most definitely correct in her earlier appraisal of his physique: 'all the way up the wall,' indeed! If he had the mental skill to match it -- and this certainly seemed plausible -- then considering the energy which he displayed in the Grand Hall of Stars, he would make a fantastic lover. A shame that he appeared to treasure his celibacy!

From over at the 'yacuzzi,' the Specialist Glamerspear twisted her head to face the rest of them. "So, I know this isn't exactly super-private, but when are we going to talk about the elephant in the room?"

When she received confusion in response, she turned her body around to hug the edge, then raised up a forehoof and pointed it at Ebonshield. "I think we've all got some questions for Sergeant Speechless over there, yeah? Lotta stuff to talk about after this morning, ya know? Kinda like to get some of it in the open before we head back down under the mountain."

Sparkshower and Honour nodded in agreement, and the drowsy Engineer Royal showed no signs of objecting.

Ebonshield glanced around. There were less than five other ponies in the room, and most of those seemed to be clustered underneath the windows of the Southern wall, enjoying the rays of the afternoon sun. Although it was quiet in this room of waters, they might still hear their conversation -- at least, if they remained all separated like this and had to speak up.

With several questioning eyes upon her, she glanced over at the 'yacuzzi'. "Perhaps if we were to gather in the 'hot tub'?"

Without waiting for any acknowledgement, Anonymous pulled his feet out of the water and slowly got up. "Don't have to tell me twice."

He stepped over, followed closely behind by Corporal Bound, while Sergeant Ebonshield and the Specialist Sparkshower both swam towards the edge.

Squatting down to place his hand against the inside wall, he looked around. "I wonder how they power the pumps for this thing? A windmill and a camshaft driving bellows, I'd imagine. Elaborate construction." As Ebonshield pulled herself up out of the warm pool, the Great Lord slipped slowly into the 'yacuzzi,' adjacent the Specialist Glamerspear, who seemed pleased to receive him. "... Ahhh, but worth it."

Once the Corporal Bound, the Specialist Sparkshower, and herself all entered the steaming pool -- which was heated almost to burning, but still she forced herself to enter -- then things were quite crowded, and she was satisfied that at least nopony else would try to join them for lack of room.

So scaldingly hot was Ebonshield that she was tempted to extend her wings to cool down -- but this would defeat the point of the experience, and also reveal her more obviously as an outsider who should not belong here. She resorted instead to closing her eyes and taking several deep breaths, and when she felt able to continue, she found herself facing four curious faces.

"Very well... What may I explain first?"

She was not surprised to hear the Specialist Glamerspear speak before anyone else. "How about you start with yourself? I mean, what kinda combat training involves all that crazy jumping around? Not to mention learning seduction?"

Ah yes, of course.

Before she could answer, the Specialist Sparkshower added also her own question. "And did you really mean it when you said you could have single-hoofedly beaten all those batponies in the entrance?" Eyes wide, she looked down at the bubbling water before her. "... I mean, it looked like they believed you. And you fought really well against the sand-shadow things -- but still, one-on-twelve?"

The Corporal Bound looked Ebonshield in the eyes with steady conviction and added the final point. "Just what is the 'School of the Shining Stellar Dance,' Sergeant?"

It was a little difficult to focus while she was still adjusting to the tremendous temperature in the 'yacuzzi,' but she managed to think of a good place to start. "This is not the easiest thing to explain. Please allow me to teach you some culture and history first, yes?"

There were no objections, so she began.

Suggested background music: Cobla Mediterrània - El Testament de N'Amèlia
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Vwa4a8NjXJw

"... I have told you of the Phases, which are the layers of batpony society, and of the Houses, which are like the city-states and the extended families. But there are also the Guilds and the Schools -- the associations of professions particular which reach across the Houses."

Ebonshield took a big gulp of air, as much to cool herself down as to continue speaking.

“A Rock-phase blacksmith of the House Catena-of-Vapors will have some communication and some camaraderie with a blacksmith of the House of Sea-of-Foam, because both are members of the Guild of Blacksmiths, even though these two Houses are bitter enemies who have quarrelled and fought wars for centuries on end. For the Guilds of the Rocks, there is a professional respect which extends mostly to the political pressure mutual against the Lunars and Stars above, as well as against the Dust and Shadows below. But for some among the Stars, Lunars, and the Eclipse, close bonds are forged across Houses in the semi-independent schools which teach special skills."

She shrugged, lifting her forehooves and her shoulders out of the heat. “These temples of learning sit apart from the never-ending feuds of the Houses, by necessity and by design. By necessity, because some information must be shared for us to survive on the Moon. By design, because to join the Mother-of-Stars in retaking Equestria, we knew that we would have to co-operate on some level."

Taking a chance, she raised her wings up and relieved her temperature problem with a quick flap. "The Most Holy Church of the Sacred Victorious Canon is where Reverend Lunars receive instruction, for example. And the Honorable Order of the Hatchet is a famed Star-school for the investigation of crimes and the guarding of borders. The School of the Shining Stellar Dance is one such Star-school, or more properly a Star-temple."

She leaned in a bit, encouraging everypony else to do the same, so that she did not need to speak so loudly over the rushing of water. "The Temple of the Shining Stellar Dance is an institution ancient, founded in an age where matters of faith and society were still undecided. There were few guilds, and no Phases. There were still ponies who clung to their Equestrian high-born roots and demanded the fealty of those beneath them. There was no single, central church -- and, more importantly, there were many unanswered questions."

Raising her hooves up to her head, Ebonshield looked up wistfully towards the steamy tiled ceiling. "'What have we become?' 'Why has the Mother-of-Stars made us so?' 'What does She wish of us?' 'Shall we return to Equestria, or is this now our home?'"

Lowering her hooves back down, she allowed them to slip into the water -- and she realized that the pool felt burning to the touch.

"Many ponies believed they had the answers, and were willing to fight anyone who thought differently. There is, after all, a reason for the 'Victorious' in the name of the Church -- and this victory was not earned without blood."

She swished a forehoof in the water, drawing a spiral in the foam. "In this age, a spiritual colt, known now as Maestro Romà de Balj, believed that through ascetic studies and the practice of an artful 'dance' one could achieve enlightenment and a glimpse of the will of the Mother-of-Stars. I say 'dance' because this is the word which he used to describe the thing, his 'Shining Stellar Dance' -- but the dance was actually a style of fighting; a practice of graceful combat against one or more foes, but always performed alone, so that one could 'lose' oneself in the divinity of the moment."

Leaning back, Ebonshield started to relax. "He gathered and trained a small number of followers, and, deciding that his group was now above and separate from the raging holy wars, he declared that they shall build their temple-fortress at the top of 'El Monte Esbelto' -- The Slender Mountain."

She shrugged again, and emitted a chuckle. “In that age so chaotic, there was no shortage of enemies eager to eradicate even the most insular nonbeliever or heretic. So the Maestro Romà and his Shining Stellar Dancers found their Slender Mountain threatened or besieged on several occasions, by forces far greater than their own. Of course, they were very capable fighters, and more than willing to die for their sincere faith, but they were not numerous enough, nor trained and equipped to fight side-by-side! To give battle to an orderly army in the field would be suicide."

She raised her eyebrows as well as a forehoof. "Maestro Romà knew this, and knew also that in this age such enemy forces, much like his own temple, survived mostly on the charisma and personality of their leaders. In the darkness of night, one or two skilled 'dancers' might easily slip away from the mountain and into the enemy camp, passing themselves off as soldiers or servants, and, with a quiet dagger, eliminate such leaders. Even if they were caught and killed afterwards, which happened frequently, the death of a noble commander led to the inevitable dispersal of the army."

She took a moment to look each of her comrades -- and her VIP -- in the eyes before continuing. "By the time the Most Holy Church of the Sacred Victorious Canon emerged as the dominant orthodoxy, everypony on the Moon had heard of the terrifying 'Old Colt of the Mountain' and his band of fanatics who would manage even in the face of certain death to vengefully carve out the heart of anypony that dared to oppose them."

The Specialist Sparkshower gasped, while the Specialist Glamerspear raised her eyebrows. Ebonshield was not surprised to see that the Engineer Royal and the Corporal Bound both remain interested, but detached.

“This was over nine hundred years ago. Somewhere along the way, the Shining Stellar Dancers established a truce with the Church, agreeing on several points of doctrine and bowing to the supremacy of the orthodoxy, while retaining their mysticism and independence. Possessed of the skills of infiltration and murder, they soon found the newborn Houses eager to engage their services in the new never-ending feud -- not over doctrine and religion, but power and wealth. Not even Maestro Romà could refuse the share that they offered him if he but directed his students at targets particular, according to their wishes. With the blessings of the Church, Maestro Romà saw a bright future for his order in the wallets of the Houses, and insisted only on certain ritual rules for the execution of such contracts."

Lowering her hooves and her voice, Ebonshield summarized this little history. "Thus was founded the Temple of the Shining Stellar Dance, the batpony school of assassins."

The Specialist Sparkshower stared at Ebonshield, open-mouthed. Corporal Bound closed her eyes and lowered her head into one forehoof. Anonymous looked at the batpony with the corporal’s same aloof interest.

Beside her, the Specialist Glamerspear furrowed her brow and curled up her lips. "You're- Are you bucking kidding us, Sarge? Princess Luna gave us... she gave us... gave us..."

Before she could stutter further, the Corporal Bound lifted up her head and completed her sentence. "Princess Luna assigned an assassin to the Royal Engineer's VIP bodyguard quaternion."

The voice was not welcoming or encouraging. And this was no surprise to Ebonshield, for there was a reason that she had kept this fact concealed.

‘Well, ‘s'ha acabat el bròquil’ -- there is no more broccoli, as the Rocks would say.’

Now it remained to see if anything would happen.

Somewhat surprisingly, the Specialist Sparkshower was the first to rise to her defense. "Well... Why not, Corporal? I mean, the Sergeant is a great fighter, and if the Royal Engineer's life is really threatened, then who is going to know better how to stop an assassin than... an assassin... right?"

The Corporal Bound sighed and gave her a dismissive look, and even the Specialist Glamerspear turned and shook her head, rolling her eyes.

There was a long and uncomfortable delay, and then her VIP -- who had been giving Ebonshield the look so casual until now -- shrugged his shoulders. "Makes sense to me."

Instantly, the three Equestrians turned towards him, and Glamerspear burst out. "You're okay with this, sir?"

He shrugged again. "Sure, why not? Sparkshower's argument makes sense. I trust Her Majesty's wisdom. And I know I'm not in much of a position to judge, but the sergeant certainly seems to have some pretty serious moves."

She allowed herself to smile. Oh, and what moves she could show him also, if he but wished it!

The Specialist Glamerspear appeared deflated. "I mean... Yeah, okay, she does. But... why do you learn 'seduction'?"

Now it was Ebonshield’s turn to shrug. "Sometimes this is an easy way to a target."

Grumbling, the unicorn splashed a forehoof into the bubbling water. "Figures."

Sparkshower spoke up, somewhat meekly. "Uhm... But why did the Reverend Mother say you don't learn the 'follow-through'?"

‘Ah, this little chica inocente.’

Ebonshield smiled and leaned towards her. "Because, Artemisa, once we are in bed together, then there is only the time for the stabbing, yes?"

The look of concern in her eyes was just precious, as was the monosyllabic response. "Oh."

Across the pool, Honour nodded in the batpony’s direction, her eyes narrow underneath her thick braided mane. "Speaking of the Reverend Mother... It seemed like she really wanted to put you in your place back there."

Ebonshield nodded, her smile disappearing. As uncomfortable a topic as revealing the nature of her profession had been, this one was even worse. "Yes, she made her disapproval quite clear."

Keeping her voice level and her mood composed, she continued. "Was that all just because you disobeyed her order not to volunteer for this job? It almost sounded... personal."

‘Ah, she is very astute, the Corporal Bound.’

Well, she’d drunk the oil of failure this morning. She might as well now finish the bottle. Suddenly feeling exhausted once more, Ebonshield sighed deeply. "No, there was not merely this most recent defiance which angered her. I have disappointed her on several occasions prior also, so that I think her antipathy for me is personal by now."

Sighing again, she looked down at the bubbling water. She felt uncomfortable, but not any more from the heat, at least.

“And this is particularly likely since the Reverend Mother Superior Carmen Ébanoscudo is my mother."

Author's Note

And so we reach the end of our heroes' first foray into the depths of bat pony society! It's been an exciting journey, and I hope you've enjoyed it as much as I have! :twilightsmile:

Alas, between difficulties with pastebin and the sheer length of several chapters, its been difficult to keep up with things, and my work buffer has been severely worn down over the course of this arc. With apologies to everyone who appreciates the daily updates, we'll be returning to an every-other-day update schedule for a little while to rebuild that buffer.

Chapter 78

Honour Bound

It'd been a headache-inducing kind of day for Corporal Honour Bound. Lifting her left forehoof out of the bubbling pool, she dribbled some of the steamy-hot water on her muzzle, then rubbed her forehead.

It was all a little too much to take in.

The fourth member of her quaternion, assigned to protect the dignity and, if necessary, the life of Equestria's Royal Engineer, Anonymous, was in fact the top-ranking batpony assassin in Equestria. She'd led them all into the rookery under Canterlot mountain, the local colony for a race which had, until recently, been sworn to overthrow Princess Celestia and the entire Equestrian order.

And she hadn't mentioned her station.

Or the fact that she'd disobeyed her religious superior's orders by accepting this VIP assignment. Or the fact that said religious superior was her own mother.

Ebonshield might have a black shield stamped on her flank, but when Honour looked at the 'sergeant' now, visibly sweating white foam around her neck from the heat of the jacuzzi, all she could picture was a 'blue falcon.' The batpony might as well just have thrown them all underneath the wheels of the Royal Engineer's carriage. Including the Lord himself.

Dropping her forehoof back into the water, Honour looked lazily around the hot-tub circle.

Unsurprisingly, Glamerspear appeared shocked. Equally unsurprisingly, she immediately vocalized it. "That white-powdered would-be princess who marched in with a whole battalion of cultists was your mom!?"

Ebonshield nodded.

"Yes..."

She trailed off and looked evasively down at the water, shaking her head. "... But, please to understand, Specialist. Among the Children, a family does not work the same way that it does for Equestrians."

That was cryptic -- just like so much of what else she'd said and done that day. Honour was not in the mood to ask more questions, though, because every one of those just seemed to result in more troublesome answers.

Glamerspear had no such hesitation, however.

"Whaddya mean, not the same way? She's your mother, ain't she?"

Her Manehattan accent slipped in a bit there; Honour noticed she did that a bit when she was upset. The quaternion's fashionable unicorn mostly tried to keep herself sounding Canterlot-proper, but she'd let enough words blurt out that anypony paying attention for long enough could place her as a 'Hattan native. Despite spending a few months up there on assignment, Honour wasn’t well-versed enough to pick out her specific borough.

The corporal tilted her head forwards, scrunching her eyes closed. Exhaustion from all the work -- and all the stress -- must’ve been hitting her hard, if all she could focus on right then was Glamerspear's accent. Bringing up both forehooves, Honour dribbled hot water down her shoulders, rubbing the soothing liquid into her sore muscles.

Somewhere across the hot tub from her, the batpony kept talking. "She gave birth to me, yes -- and I drank of her milk; but that is the extent of our intimacy. Among the Children, the rearing of young is given over entirely to the communal crèche."

With her muzzle almost against the surface of the pool, Honour inhaled the vapors. There was a mineral tinge to them -- it smelled a bit like the Fillydelphia shoreline, after a fresh spring rain had come and thoroughly rinsed away all the city's grime. The smiling ponies in the white jackets at the front desk did say that the water here was drawn directly from a natural hot spring, rather than Canterlot's glacial canals.

And didn't Anonymous mutter something about Canterlot Mountain having been a volcano?

Because of the presence of that strange 'cave of pillars'?

‘That would explain it.’

To Honour’s right, Sparkshower continued the conversation. "But what about your father?"

The earth pony slowly straightened her neck in time to catch Ebonshield shrugging. "I do not know him. He was probably from a different House. This is the way of the Lunars, you see -- diplomacy is conducted through trade, and sometimes the 'merchandise' being offered is not always physical."

Glamerspear couldn’t let that one get away. "They use sex to sweeten deals? Sounds pretty physical to me." The unicorn specialist looked over at their VIP. “I guess that's why the 'Reverend Mother' was so keen on making sure you were taken care of as well, sir."

Beside the corporal, Anonymous held his eyes closed, and had somehow managed to sink himself almost up to his chin in the hot tub. "Mm-hmm."

‘How is he in so deep?’

‘Is he even sitting on the bench?’

Frowning, Honour leaned back and glanced behind him to figure it out. Beneath the bubbles, she made out that he'd slouched himself down so completely that only his shoulders were, just barely, on the bench -- the rest of his body was floating out in front of him. Sure enough, one of his feet breached the small mountain of bubbles in the middle of the circular pool.

‘Damn, that actually looks pretty comfortable.’

Although it was made abundantly clear during the morning's training that Anonymous' body was more flexible than the average pony's, Honour stretched out her hind legs and tried to get into a similar position. This was her first time in a jacuzzi, so it took some doing.

Glamerspear, meanwhile, continued her interrogation. "So, if you were the result of some kinda trade agreement, what does that make your brother Marcos, then? Re-ratifying the treaty?"

The sergeant chuckled. "Perhaps; I do not know. He may have a different father; Carmen has never said, and in any case, there is the likelihood that she may not know with precision, either -- only enough to tell him which mares are not a suitable earth for his seed."

There was a splash as Ebonshield dropped her outstretched wings into the water. "I have many younger brothers and sisters like him on the moon, and many of them entered the Lunar phase. I think that Carmen wished this for me, her first-born, as well."

Just when Honour thought she was getting the hang of the position, her hind legs abruptly floated up from underneath her, propelled by one of the jets pumping water into the pool. She had to turn over in a scramble, lest she detach herself from the wall. Hooking one hoof over the edge, she pulled herself back to the submerged bench. Thankfully, everypony else seemed too interested in Ebonshield's revelations to have noticed the corporal’s momentary struggle.

"By the time I came of age, she had risen far in the Lunar ranks of the House of Vapors. My scores were favorable, and she made sure that I was offered the same path behind her."

Slowly twisting around, Honour went for attempt number two.

"But I was more interested in the activities physical, and I selected instead the bid of the Stars, who offered to allow me to select my own school of choice. I chose the Shining Dance, and, almost thirty-three years later, here I am. And I do not think that she has ever forgiven me this refusal."

As Honour got her hind legs in position and began to float that entire quarter of her body, it started to dawn on her just how long Ebonshield had been at this. She started training to be an assassin at age ten. No wonder she was still such a superb fighter even now, in her early forties.

When Honour was ten, she was just a knobby-kneed youth aimlessly roaming the dockside streets of Fillydelphia. Both Honour and Ebonshield had been raised by a single parent, but at least the corporal still had a mother to call her back home for supper after a day spent mostly in search of the boat which would carry her off to some distant land of her dreams...

Or at least see the return of her absentee father.

Losing her grip on the bench, Honour’s head started to dip beneath the surface, covering her ears as Glamerspear asked the cordial middle-aged assassin some new question. Whatever relaxation the earth pony was supposed to have achieved with the Royal Engineer's state of maximum hot-tub immersion was overshadowed by a deep-felt sense of disappointment in her own achievements, frustration as to her ultimate direction, and exhaustion from everything that had happened today. Maybe that's why she’d retreated into the formal execution of her orders 'to the letter,' going so far as to follow her VIP into a private massage.

As Honour felt herself slipping further down, she swung a foreleg back to get a hoof hooked on some firmament.

Nothing had happened between Anonymous and the griffon 'nurse,' besides a very thorough back-rub, but the point was nopony in Equestria, no matter how high-placed, needed an honor guard in a bucking spa. Unlike the batponies, Equestria didn't have assassins slinking around looking to stab dignitaries while they were having a rub-down. Insisting on following protocol was just her escape from reality.

Her hoof slipped against the smooth porcelain tiles decorating the bench, and the waters rose past Honour’s eyes, heading for her nose and mouth.

Why had he let the earth pony get away with such stubbornness? Any other VIP would have told her to sod the rules and hoof it.

There was a splash beside Honour’s muzzle, and she felt the braid of her mane tumble into the water from where she’d left it coiled up on the deck. Now she’d have to untangle it and give it a wash before leaving, or else she’d smell like minerals and salt for the rest of the day. She threw another forehoof back and just barely caught the edge of the bench. Immediately, instinctively, she tried to haul herself back out of the water, only to find that same hoof slip right out from underneath her. She took a breath and shut her mouth as the waters closed up around her head.

Did Anonymous just not care about having her in the room while that griffon worked him over? Or was it that he was so unsure of his own footing in Equestria that he trusted in her completely to do what was correct? Like the incident with the movers on Thursday?

Unable to figure it out as she sank below the bubbling waters, Honour finally decided to throw in the towel and twisted around once more, flipping over onto her belly so that she could push down with all four legs and scramble back up to the surface. Emerging from the water with a gasp, she hooked her forehooves over the pool's edge, sputtering as she faced the tiled wall.

"You look as if you're holding on for dear life, Corporal." Anonymous spoke quietly to her from underneath her right shoulder, still floating where he was before, now with little more than his face and ears poking out from the water.

Perfect. Not only did she embarrass herself by being present for his nude back massage, listening in on the private grunts and moans elicited by that griffon's firm talons, now she’d shown him that, like a typical dockside Fillydelphian, she couldn’t swim worth a damn, either.

Honour took a moment to catch her breath, before answering him in a similarly low voice. "I, uh... You seemed pretty comfortable, sir, so I thought I'd try the same thing."

Behind her, Glamerspear and Sparkshower were loudly continuing to pepper Ebonshield with questions, but the corporal managed to focus on their own conversation.

Anonymous' face wobbled above the water as he nodded his head from underneath, like some kind of strange iceberg. "The trick is to let it all go, Corporal." He shut his eyes and lowered even his ears into the water, inhaling deeply through his nose before tilting it, too, under the waves, leaving only his mouth and chin above. "In order to float, get rid of what's trying to sink you."

That was easier said than done. Did he have any idea how much heavy baggage she was carrying around?

As if to refute her, the Royal Engineer lowered his whole head, but spread out his arms and legs, and within moments, his whole body rose to float serenely on the surface, right in the center of the circular pool.

Turning around, Honour stared in astonishment. It couldn't really be that easy; not for somepony with all the anchors she had weighing her down. Just look at what her hang-ups had made her do that afternoon, drowning herself in duty.

Anonymous drifted away, buffeted by the gentle jets of water; the other three ponies were so deep in their conversation they hadn’t quite noticed the creature heading towards them.

As Honour watched him go, she realized that the Royal Engineer probably had some chains of his own. Stranded on another, alien world -- who knows what he’d been forced to leave behind?

A career?

Friends?

Family?

And he was a workaholic; as bad as any she’d ever seen, except that he seemed to at least enjoy himself. But immersing himself in his job -- was that him shutting out his own personal daemons, in the same way that Honour coped with her own?

"Hey, whoa! Foot!!"

"Oh, sorry, Specialist."

While Honour was lost in thought, Anonymous managed to float all the way to the other side of the circular pool, his toes nearly slapping into Glamerspear's cheek before she noticed and ducked backwards out of the way. With a little splash, he quickly pushed himself back with his hands and then abandoned his floating pose to stand up straight, smiling and adjusting his bathing suit before stepping back over to his seat.

"Got a little carried away by the flow there."

Glamerspear eyeballed him as he sat back down. "Of course, sir."

Their VIP put a fist up to his mouth and closed his eyes into a yawn so large that it nearly tempted the corporal to copy him. "I'm just about ready for that nap, but if you all want to stick around a while longer, we don't have to head back to the palace. It's kind of cozy here, and I can just as easily get my winks in one of those poolside loungers."

‘It is cozy in this place.’

Something about it -- not just the facilities, or the decor, or the quiet-but-friendly staff -- made it inviting. Maybe that was just a property any good spa had; it’s not like Honour was any kind of expert.

Around the hot tub, four ponies nodded and muttered in agreement.

Glamerspear, now free of face-foot, looked to Corporal Bound to summarize. Acknowledging the specialist’s silent request, she glanced up at their VIP. "If it's all right with you, sir, we'll stay a while longer. Did you want anything before you settle down? And would you like us to wake you to return to the palace for supper?"

Anonymous slowly pulled himself up and then sat down on the edge, dangling his legs and feet in the pool, a groggy look on his face. Another yawn -- both arms outstretched, this time -- and then he shook his head at Honour. "If I need something, I'll talk to the staff. Dinner here or there doesn't matter to me, either. Wake me up if you decide you need to go back; I won't mind."

She nodded, and he pulled one of his legs out of the pool, but before he could stand, Sparkshower swam forward, her wings out of the water, and piped up. "Um, sir -- Could I ask you a personal question first?"

‘What now?’

‘Must be related to whatever they were talking about with the sergeant.’

"Sure, Specialist. As long as it's a quick one."

The doggy-paddling pegasus reached the edge of the pool, looking her VIP in the face. "I just was wondering, sir -- why did you refuse the Reverend Mother Superior's offer?"

That was personal, and it wasn’t their place as bodyguards to ask those kinds of questions.

Or to stand watch during sensual massages, for that matter.

Honour glared at the young, cream-colored Specialist, shaking her head slightly to indicate her disapproval, but before Sparkshower could retract the question, Anonymous chuckled, swishing his foot in the water. "Heh, you mean her offer of 'free hot sex, no strings attached'?"

Torn between backpedaling and carrying on, and looking more than a little scandalized by his blunt phrasing, the pegasus hesitantly nodded. "Yes, sir. I'm just asking because... Because I didn't think there were a lot of colts who would say 'no' to that sort of thing. Who could say no..."

With the interested gaze of a batpony and a unicorn at the back of her head, and a human and an earth pony to her front, she elaborated. "...Not if they were single, I mean."

The saltine unicorn couldn't resist getting a word in edgewise of her own. "M'yeah, and maybe not even otherwise."

Anonymous dipped his other foot back in the water, then pulled it out and bent forward to rub and squeeze the water between his toes. "Well, first of all, as the sergeant has made clear now, I could see that there were strings attached -- just not the kind that usually binds lovers together. I'm sure Carmen would have expected something in return."

He looked over at Ebonshield, who nodded. "Yes, Great Lord. Although if we return into the Rookery again, as you plan, it is likely that she will still expect to be rewarded for even this minor act of hospitality."

The Royal Engineer folded his now squeaky-clean foot underneath him, and then lifted the other out to attend to it. "I'm not surprised. And, who knows? It may have been a pointless exercise if I need her help to accomplish things later anyways. But I wasn't about to go getting myself immediately into her debt for a 'piece of tail.'"

With his other foot clean, he lowered it and sat at the edge of the pool, cross-legged, his hands resting on his knees. "Mind you, I probably would have gone for it when I was younger. Just not any more."

With another yawn, he unfolded his legs and got to his feet, stretching his arms high up into the air, drawing his skin taught against his body. "These days, I'm of the opinion that the 'strings' are what make love special."

This surprisingly frank and wholesome admission pleased the pegasus, and she smiled broadly. On the other side of the pool, Eb looks intrigued as well, and even Glamerspear snorted at the corniness of his statement.

"That answer your 'personal question,' Specialist?"

A few yellow locks, still curly despite being soaked with water, bounced up and down as Sparkshower enthusiastically nodded. "Yes, sir! Thank you, sir!"

"All right. I'm going to take a nap. Wake me if you need me. Like I said, I won't mind."

Honour watched as the tall, bipedal, alien VIP strolled over to the lounger holding his white cotton, minotaur-sized robe, put it on, laid down a few towels to use as padding and pillows, and finally settled in to rest, one arm draped across his eyes.

A studious worker, a friendly gentlecolt, an athlete and a scholar, and he even professed not to be out to score a quick buck?

This couldn’t be real; VIPs like Anonymous were one in a million -- maybe even a billion. And there hadn’t even been that many honored guests in Equestria.

Luckily, Honour had Glamerspear to bring her back down to earth. "*Snort* Geez, Sparks, if your coltfriend back in Berry saw you making those starry eyes at the Royal Engineer, he sure wouldn't be happy about it!"

That earned the unicorn an irritated splash of water from the pegasus, and within moments, the two young specialists were back at it again.

‘Oh, well.’

Most of Honour’s troubles, she didn’t think she could float away from quite so easily as Anonymous seemed able to manage. But those two impulsive junior guardsponies, at least, she could handle. After letting them splash it out for a bit, she ordered them to settle down, punctuating her words with a splash of her own.

"Knock it off, you two. This is a spa, not a water park."

"Sorry, Corporal."
"Sorry, Corporal."

She nodded her head back at the loungers. "You're going to need some rest before we head out tonight; might as well do it now while the Royal Engineer doesn't need all of us. Go hit the showers and then find somewhere to curl up."

Both of them were looking a little sleepy -- sleepier than Honour felt, and she was pretty ready to hit the sack herself.

Glamerspear nodded at Sparkshower. "C'mon, Sparks. There's a quiet room with plush cushions and a fireplace near the entrance."

"Ooh, sounds great!"

They headed off, and that just left Honour and the blue falcon in the hot tub together.

With a sigh, Ebonshield licked her lips. "If it would be acceptable, I think perhaps that I should also rest while the opportunity is in front of me."

Honour nodded as she stepped out of the pool. "Sure. Just one thing, Sergeant-"

Looking the batpony in the eyes -- a batpony who was not only almost twenty years her senior, but formally outranked her and outclassed her in combat to a degree that was almost frightening -- Honour furrowed her brow. “I don't want us going into the Rookery blind again. You told me on Thursday that I'm really in charge of this quaternion, so before we head out, I want a briefing. And if you need time to prepare one, then let me know, and I'll be the one to tell the Royal Engineer to cancel his plans for tonight."

There was a momentary look of confusion in the batpony's eyes, but then it disappeared into a friendly smile, which she followed up with a bow. "Of course, Caporal. And I will not need time to prepare -- only some little time to present."

Looking pleased, the dark batpony trotted off, and Honour slouched back down into the jacuzzi.

Did she, a lowly Corporal, just order the second-in-command of the batpony assassins to give her a bucking briefing?

Talk about ‘retreating into your work.’

Staring at the bubbling water, Honour made up her mind. Twisting herself around and trotting up and out of the Jacuzzi, she tossed a towel at the lounger next to her VIP. A quick shower -- including redoing her braid -- and then she’d curl up on the lounger next to the Royal Engineer.

At least she’d be nearby if, Celestia forbid, anything did happen.

And if it didn’t, then she’d be well-rested for tonight.

Suggested interlude music: Oscar Araujo - 'Waterfalls of Agharta', from 'Castlevania: Lords of Shadow' [2010]
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GmUZ8B2pgAc

Chapter 79

Lily Glamerspear

Celestia help anything that got between Specialist Glamerspear and her bed -- including the door to the quaternion’s shared apartment, which the unicorn roughly threw open using her telekinesis only a moment before stepping in.

It felt good to be back there, almost a full day since they’d left, and although Lily’s bed beckoned, she found herself pausing to sit for a moment first.

"Finally."

As she removed her helmet in the common room, Artemis and Purity trudged in slowly after her, looking equally worn down.

Once Lily’s head was liberated from its bronze enclosure, she shook her mane and scratched her scalp with a hoof. Blinking her eyes to keep them awake a little while longer, she sighed and vented her frustrations to nopony in particular. "Who'd have thought it was even possible to talk about iron for six bucking hours straight?"

Ebonshield passed Lily and headed straight for the water-jug to pour herself a cup, tipping it back into her mouth with a miserable expression on her face. "*cough* By the shadows, not I."

Having served for that entire period as the two-way translator between the Royal Engineer and the members of the Rookery's guild of blacksmiths, her voice was raspy and thin. As soon as she finished one serving, she immediately took another.

Standing beside Lily, Artemis looked up at the clock. "Gosh... We were gone so long that the mess hall's almost about to start serving morning chow."

‘Damn.’ Lily knew they’d been down there for most of the night -- the red, rising sun peeking through all the eastern windows told her that -- but for it to already be chow-time? Strictly speaking, one of them was supposed to go on duty in less than two hours! Though maybe Honour would have something to say about that when she got up there; after all, the Royal Engineer must’ve been just as worn out as they all were, right?

Then again, maybe not, considering how energetic he seemed throughout that whole incomprehensible discussion.

Lily looked over at the batpony, who had cup-of-water number three currently swishing in her mouth while she rubbed her throat with one hoof to soothe her aching vocal chords.

Artemis stepped over to her. "Maybe you'd ought to go to the infirmary, Estellar--I mean, Sergeant? They can probably give you something to help."

With another wince of pain, the batpony swallowed her drink and then cleared her throat, speaking in a hoarse whisper. "ahem, It is alright. I will be well after a rest. By the blessed Mother, how the Rocks can chatter when the mood takes them."

As Ebonshield shook her head in frustrated exhaustion, Sparkshower generously poured her another cup. "How come the blacksmiths didn't speak Equestrian, anyways? You said all batponies were learning it."

The sergeant nodded. "Starting to, yes. For the Rocks, it is less important than for the Lunars and Stars."

Unbuckling the chest straps of her cuirass, Lily interjected. "Makes sense. Nopony expected them to have to deal with anypony outside of the Rookery, right? Whereas the Stars have to speak it to serve as guards for the palace. And the Lunars are diplomats, so they've got to know it even more."

Ebonshield nodded and took another drink, licking her lips when she’d finished. "Yes, this is so."

Halfway through removing one of her foreleg greaves, Sparks piped up. "Oh yeah, I was going to say, Sergeant: your mother sure speaks Equestrian very well." Returning to her armor, she continued in a voice which was impossibly excited considering the late hour. "Why, to me, she sounded just like a Canterlot native!"

Despite her injured voice, Eb managed a slight chuckle. "Heh. If we should meet her again, be sure that you tell her this. She will appreciate the compliment, I am certain."

"Oh, I will!"

Poor innocent Sparks, not picking up on Eb's sarcastic joke. Although, maybe it wouldn't hurt to lay down some covering-fire compliments if they crossed paths again. Thankfully, the Reverend Mother hadn’t bothered them at all during their midnight expedition to the surprisingly busy Rookery, but if the Royal Engineer wanted more meetings with those blacksmith-ponies, who knew what she might do?

During the pre-mission briefing, Eb had said that there wasn't a thing going on in the Rookery that the Reverend Mother Superior didn't have a hoof in. And although Lily had zoned out for a considerable portion of his six-hour chat with the blacksmiths, it certainly seemed like her VIP was trying to start something big.

Lily nodded towards Purity. "Did you actually understand what they were talking about, Sergeant? It got pretty technical, didn't it?"

The batpony shook her head. "They spoke at length about metal, but the words did not make sense to me. The translation was most difficult. There was the necessity to go back and forth several times to make things clear between them, though I was still confused. This is perhaps why the discussions were so lengthy."

"Yeah."

It had taken a while to get past basic introductions; as Ebonshield had predicted, the Rocks were flabbergasted by their visit, but also pretty curious about the Royal Engineer -- and the rest of them, too. The same could be said about everypony else they’d walked by on the way there, really.

First, there was deference mixed with horror from seeing the master assassin in the vanguard. Then, shock and surprise when they realized what was following behind her. Finally, an insatiable curiosity as to what they were all doing under the mountain, in 'their' forbidden Rookery. By the time they'd even reached the blacksmith's building in the marketplace, there was a sizable following of gawkers.

Lily had to do some actual crowd-control by the end of it, flexing a bit of telekinetic muscle to hold them back.

Sure were a lot of them...

As Eb mulled over her fifth cup of water, Lily eyeballed the batpony in the room. "Just how many of your kind are down in the Rookery, anyways, Sergeant? I mean all of them, not just the soldiers."

She'd said there were three hundred Stars on station at the Rookery. And that all their food was imported, some from the Moon, but most of it straight from the Royal Guard's only logistic network. But she hadn't given a number for the mass of civilians supporting them -- tradesponies, mostly, like the blacksmiths, but also household servants as well. Probably their family-members, too. Not to mention the Reverend Mother and her battalion of moon-worshipping batpony cultists!

Ebonshield eyed Lily warily. "In total, there are almost three thousand."

‘Hot bucking damn!’

Never mind a nest, it really was a whole village of batponies down there!

Even Sparkshower sat up in shock. "Three thousand? Gosh. That's more ponies than live in all of Berry County." Lily didn’t have the energy to snarkily inform Artemis that there were a lot of places bigger than Berry. "And just six blacksmiths between them? No wonder some of the Stars went to visit Bronzehorn for extra work."

Pausing at the final buckle for her cuirass, Lily squinted over at Sparkshower. "What are you on about, Sparks?"

She'd barely gotten two of her greaves off, her coat all matted underneath them; Lily felt itchy just looking at it. "Oh, don't you remember, Lily? Mister Bronzehorn said he'd done work for a batpony or two."

‘He did?'

All Lily could remember was his quip about her hip size.

Sparkshower continued eagerly. "But it makes sense; a battalion of 300 ponies normally needs five to ten armorers for daily field operations, while those six in the Rookery have to handle not just the soldiers, but probably all of the civilian metalworking jobs, too!"

‘How in Tartarus did Sparkshower know logistics numbers like that?’

"... Although I suppose maybe the ratio is lower for the Stars, since you don't use a lot of metal armor."

Ebonshield shifted within her leather cuirass and put down her mug. "I am not an expert in such things, but there is still much metal to be maintained." Sighing, she yawned and leaned back. "May I use the washroom first? I promise that my shower will be brief."

She was really wasted -- Lily was just tired from being up all night, and a little bored from being unable to converse. Purity had to actually work the whole time.

Lily nodded at the bathroom door. "Sure, Sarge, go for it."

Slowly, she trundled over and entered, lightly tapping the door closed with a hind hoof. Almost immediately thereafter, Lily heard the sound of running water.

Behind her, there was a loud clunk as Artemis finally removed her main plate. "I'm glad the blacksmiths were so friendly. They sure seemed to like the Royal Engineer's funny gifts, didn't they?"

At the sergeant's suggestion, they’d all carried down a selection of tobacco products, some coffee, some tea, a couple of bottles of rum, and, of all things, a basket of avocados from the palace pantry, to serve as a sort of diplomatic lubricant with the Rocks. That canny bat had actually smuggled in some stuff herself earlier, to bribe the musicians in the Grand Hall of Stars! Kind of an underhoofed way of doing business, but if that's what it took to get stuff done among the batponies...

Well, Lily could think of plenty of places in Equestria where greasing a few frogs would get her things normally forbidden.

Lily scowled a bit. "Yeah, they sure smoked up a storm in there with that box of cigarettes. Gonna have to wash that all out of my mane once the Sergeant's done."

The smithy-shack had been unpleasantly smoky, steamy, and hot, and the atmosphere was not improved by the eager puffing of tobacco, but thankfully, once the conversation really started to take off in what felt like the second or third hour -- Lily couldn't be sure without seeing a clock or the sun! -- everypony moved across the street, setting up in the courtyard of that 'horchateria' place. It meant being in public and having to deal with an endless supply of walk-by gawkers, but at least it smelled better.

Lily looked over at her pegasus comrade. "Say, what'd you think of that 'horchata' stuff they served us?"

Artemis was lying on her back with her legs kicked high up in the air, working on her hind greaves. "Oh, I thought it was really tasty! Kinda like a sundae. Did you like it, too?"

The unicorn nodded. "It was all right. I think I prefer actual ice cream, though."

The cream-coated young mare flapped her wings on the ground as she struggled to get the final strap undone, her tongue sticking out of her mouth. Finally, she managed to liberate herself from her bronze encasement, and rolled over to stand up, before shaking herself out as if she'd just emerged wet from the pool.

"Purity told me that the owner, mister 'Hosay,' which is spelled J-O-S-E, makes an even better one with almonds, but they're not in season just yet, so he has a limited supply and runs out early every day."

Lily must've been zoned out when that conversation happened.

"And mister Esautomático, the blacksmith, told the Royal Engineer to send advance notice before coming next time, so they could arrange for a proper reception."

Okay, she definitely zoned out.

"When did that happen? I just remember them talking about... metals and crystals and temperatures and stuff."

Sparkshower fluttered up into the air, and was about to gather up her armor pieces when Lily decided to lend a hoof and just levitate them up for her, directing them towards her bedroom.

"Thanks, Lily! And that was near the end, when they were done talking about smelting and metalworking techniques, but were instead talking about the Royal Engineer's plans." Trotting into her room, Artemis quickly got all her pieces hung up on the little stand that lets them air-dry. "Aren't you excited, Lily? Imagine being able to be part of such a historic event!"

‘What the buck did I miss?!’

"What historic ev-"

Before Lily could finish, the door opened and Corporal Bound trotted in wearing her usual dismissive frown. For some reason, the Royal Engineer had asked her to stick around after dismissing the rest of them. That was a bit curious, but it was even more curious with the way she'd seemed to stick to him like glue ever since the morning's training exercise.

Yesterday morning's exercise, rather.

Buck, it was late.

"What are you two still doing up? Hit the hay, we've all got duty in the afternoon."

Lily nodded towards the door, where the sound of running water had just stopped. "Just waiting our turns to rinse off. What'd the Royal Engineer want with you, anyways?" Deciding to have a little fun, she pursed her lips and wiggled her hips. “He need you to check for bogeyponies under his bed?"

It was a little shocking how big of a scowl that earned her. Honour really must be just as worn out as Lily was.

Sparkshower seemed to be the only one who still had energy. "Ooh, I bet he wanted to talk about his plans to work with the batponies! Did he say when we're going back under the Rookery?"

The Corporal's expression softened, and she looked over at the pegasus. "No. He wants to start the ball rolling up here before meeting with them again. And that means work for us -- starting today."

With a click, the washroom door opened and Ebonshield emerged, but Lily paused before stepping in for her turn. As tired as she was, she still wanted to hear this.

Honour looked over the three of them. "This afternoon, we're going to begin practicing for a private demonstration for Princess Celestia, to be executed A.S.A.P." Pulling off her helmet, she nodded towards the washroom. "So, get cleaned up and then get some rest, because we won't just be sitting around while he does paperwork or hobnobs with dignitaries. We're going to be doing more combat training."

The Corporal pointed a hoof in Lily’s direction, then jerked it back towards herself. "You and me, Glamerspear, are going to serve as the demonstration crew of Equestria's first 'Self-Propelled Air Defense Weapon.'"

That same hoof got pointed at Sparkshower and Ebonshield. “And you two are going to be our target dummies."

‘What the buck is this now?’

Suggested interlude music: Andreas Waldetoft - 'Ride Forth Victoriously', from 'Europa Universalis IV' [2013]
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ycl0vpbMfWw

Chapter 80

Lily Glamerspear

Suggested background music: Bill Elm & Woody Jackson - 'The Shootist', from 'Red Dead Redemption' [2010]
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Bz8JdBidRqs

Specialist Lily Glamerspear, VIP bodyguard to the Royal Engineer of Equestria. Formerly, Gunner first class, 86th Honorable Artillery Company, 79th Anti-Air-Unit Brigade, first platoon, section A.

Inducted into the Order of the Ram at the rank of Centurion, Lily wore the Silver Ram, and her Changeling Invasion campaign medal was decorated with the 'Mentioned in Dispatches' silver oak leaf. She even had the gold 'Excellence-in-Competition' marksponeship badge!

But right now, Lily Glamerspear felt like a shaved-mane recruit fresh into horseshoe camp with no idea how to handle herself or her horn -- because for almost three full laps of the Royal Eastern Cottage’s one-mile racetrack, she had completely and utterly failed to hit her target.

As the Royal Engineer's steam-powered dogcart rounded the home turn of the triangular track, with Lily sitting in the back seat, she took aim once more at her infuriatingly elusive target. Sparkshower floated menacingly above and behind the unicorn, kitted out not just in her full bronze plate, but with a lancer's kite shield strapped to each of her forelegs as well for extra defensive safety. As Honour straightened the cart back up again, the armored pegasus turned in for another mock strafing attack run.

Lily lined her up in her sights and waited another moment for Artemis to roll through.

"Shot-shot-shot!"

With a chuka-chuka-chuka noise, Glamerspear sent three glittering green, blunt-tipped spears up at her armored comrade. But all three of them missed, passing a yard or two ahead of her actual position.

‘Damn it!’

"Strike!" Passing overhead, the pegasus declared yet another successful mock attack on the car.

"Hrrrrggg!" Lily grumbled to no-one in particular as she prepared for another go.

Up front, the Royal Engineer's armor clattered slightly as he turned around in his seat. "Is there a problem, Specialist?"

Lily replied through gritted teeth. "No problem, sir! Just getting my bearings in this carriage!"

This time, Sparkshower went for a frontal attack, swinging around to cross the car's path in a figure-eight. Lily spun around in her seat and, trying to compensate for the sway and bounce of the dogcart, took aim.

"Shot-shot-shot!"

Another three spears head out, and those same three went flying past Sparkshower, barely brushing against her tail.

"Strike!"

‘GUH!’

‘What is going ON?!’

It wasn’t as if Sparkshower was dodging -- far from it: she was simply doing standard diagonal attack runs, barely varying her altitude at all! The only way she could be an easier target was if she flew straight and level beside them!

‘Why the buck can’t I seem to slap a spear into her flank?!’

Still twisted around in his seat, Anonymous lifted an eyebrow beneath the grim 'T'-shaped cutout of his blackened-bronze helmet. "Steady, Specialist."

The unicorn snapped back at him as Sparkshower lined up for an opposite-side frontal sweep. "Yes, sir."

With a barely-visible smile underneath that helmet, he continued to distract Lily from her job. "Don't fight the carriage. Take your time. Watch your sight. Lead your target. And above all, relax!"

Oh, great. Not only was she flunking Gunnery 101, she had her VIP giving front-seat lessons.

Lily growled back at him. "I am taking my time, sir, and I am watching my sights, sir, and I am pulling lead, sir."

Honour took her eyes off the road for a moment to turn around and glare angrily at her. Duly chastised for venting her frustrations at their VIP, Lily gulped and tried to soften her voice.

It wasn’t easy.

"... And I am relaxed, sir."

Sparkshower rolled through and began her run.

"Shot-shot-shot!"

Three more misses, and again the pegasus zoomed by overhead.

"Strike!"

"Damn it!" Lily angrily slapped a forehoof against her helmet's lens button, hoping that a change of magnification or optical filters would alleviate the problem.

Sighing, her annoying VIP piped up again. "Specialist, I--"

Lily was not in the mood to argue with her commanding officer right now.

"I'm on it, sir! Just give me time to get this figured out!"

‘How the buck am I always missing Sparkshower?’

As Lily’s battle-buddy took her time swinging around and setting up for another run, the flustered unicorn tried to mentally analyze the situation so far -- a pattern of miss after miss after miss. Sparkshower wasn’t dodging, so it must be Lily’s aim -- but she wasn’t consistently either over-leading or under-leading her target. In fact, now that Lily thought about it, whenever Artemis attacked from the front, her rounds went short, and whenever the pegasus came from the rear, they went long.

‘Hmmm…’

In front, the Royal Engineer had lifted up his helmet, hooked his arm over the back of his seat, and leaned over even closer towards her.

"Specialist."

‘Guh, there goes my train of thought!’

"Sir, I'm working on it!"

Shaking his head, he held his left hand straight up high, the pre-arranged signal for Sparkshower to hold off on attacking. This she duly did, veering off and entering a holding pattern.

‘No avoiding him, now.’

Lily clasped her forehooves together pleadingly. "Sir, I just need more practice -- please, let Specialist Sparkshower resume her attacks."

"I will in a moment. Just listen to me for a second, okay?"

Lily sighed in defeat. "Yes, sir."

It seemed he was determined to give her a lecture as they trundle along in that bouncing contraption-carriage of his.

"Glamerspear, you're pulling lead based on Sparkshower's position, distance, and angle of attack, yes?"

‘Yep, it's welcome-back-to-Gunnery-101 time.’

Lily had aced the buck out of that class, and she had no interest in repeating it again.

Substituting her frustration for exhaustion, she answered him. "Yes, sir, I am."

Anonymous nodded. "Okay, but what about the car?"

In an instant, exhaustion turned to confusion. "The car, sir?"

He nodded again. "The car. We're moving, Specialist; doing almost sixty kilometers per hour, by my reckoning. And that forward speed gets added to whatever you shoot out."

With his free arm, he pointed forward, then angled it up as if indicating an airborne target. "You've got to include the car's motion in whatever deflection calculation you're doing."

Lily furrowed her brow and went over the shots in her mind's eye.

‘The car?’

‘The car.’

‘The car!!’

‘That was what was going wrong!’

Seeing the look of realization on her face, Anonymous continued. "I know you shoot at moving targets all the time, but have you ever shot from a moving platform? A train or a regular carriage, for example? Or maybe even a boat?"

Lily shook her head. "No, sir..."

‘Wait a moment, though!’

"... But boat gunnery... I remember that. I've had a little training in firing anti-ship projectiles. Those fly slowly enough that we have to take into account not just the other boat, but our own as well."

Lily squinted and tried to think back to PAIT, her post-'shoe-camp Pony Advanced Individual Training. The Royal Guard preferred to have multi-purpose unicorns, so anti-air gunners got some basic instruction in ground fire, bombardment, and ship-to-ship combat. There was something about extra deflection based on angle relative to direction of motion...

It was coming back to her. "... The same principles should apply..."

‘That's it! That's what I need!’

Lily nodded enthusiastically at the Royal Engineer. "... Okay, sir! I remember! Let Sparkshower come at us again, please?"

He looked a bit skeptical, and Lily had to curl her eyebrows up pleadingly with that last request.

Ultimately, he acquisced. "Okay. Let's wait until we're around this turn. Sharply now, Corporal! Hit the apex and keep our speed up!"

As he lowered his hold-arm, Honour cranked the tiller to the left and the car turned in to the right.

Eagle-eyed Sparkshower had already spotted the end to the pause, and began to overtake for another attack run. This time, Lily was not letting her pretty bronze plate emerge unscathed! Using the reticle in her visor to adjust the deflection for her angle relative to the car's motion, she fired off another burst.

"Shot-shot-shot!"

CLANG CLONG CLUNK

"I'm hit!"

"... Splash!"

Three hits! One on the shield, another in the helmet, and the third right in the peytral.

Up front, Anonymous pulled his helmet back down over his face. "There you go, Specialist! See if you can do it again!"

This time her answer was enthusiastic and prideful, instead of glum and snippy. "Yes, sir! Come on back and get some more, Sparks!"

True to form, Lily’s naive battle-buddy called out over her shoulder even as she turned. "Okay, I will!"

‘How the buck does she even hear anything in that heavy bronze box her head is stuck in?’

‘Whatever, time for another pass.’

This time, Lily was really going to let her have it - no more pissy little three-round sounding bursts. Time for a full barrage! Just of training missiles, of course, but she deserved it -- she’d boasted beforehoof that she could take whatever Lily could dish out.

The obliviously proud pegasus came around again for another run.

"Weapons hot!"

When Lily saw the sun glint off Artemis’ bascinet helmet in her reticle, she knew it was time.

"... Burst!"

CHUKA-CHUKA-CHUKA-CHUKA-CHUKA-CHUKA-CHUKA-CHUKA-CHUKA-CHUKA-CHUKA-CHUKA

Twelve satisfying spear launches were quickly followed by ten metallic thunks as all but two of the rounds crashed into her target. Sparkshower thrashed about with her forelegs, swatting away several of the spears with her shields as the rest bounced off her armor.

"Hee-hee! That tickles! You got me again, Lily! Good job!"

"Yeah, and I'll get you again next pass, too!"

If it were anyone other than her best buddy Sparks up there, Lily would almost be upset at her happy-go-lucky attitude to being hit. As it was, her foalish giggle and playful actions relieved and reassured the unicorn that she’d gotten this figured out.

Anonymous lifted up his helmet again. "Looks like you've got her number, Specialist."

Lily beamed with pride. "Yes, sir!"

"Good. Corporal, give us one more lap, then let up on the steam and pull over at the starting line so we can swap targets."

He grinned at the unicorn specialist. "Have a few more tries with Sparkshower, then let's see how you do against someone who can actually dodge."

‘Ulp.’

Suggested viewing: US Army Air Forces Training Film I-3366: 'Position Firing', featuring B-17 waist gunner voiced by Mel Blanc [1944]
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mXbCbpPQPVc

Chapter 82

Honour Bound

So much for the Royal Engineer's big plans for bypassing the bureaucracy.

As with Sergeant Ebonshield yesterday, it seemed any attempt to get things done while avoiding paperwork or politics was doomed to failure. At least this time they only had to deal with Equestrians, though. And they had Lieutenant Temper Violetta to guide things, as well. She could be gruff, stiff, and overly formal, but Honour had served in the VIP section for long enough to know she was an officer more than worth the silver bar on her lapel.

Sitting in front of the Royal Engineer's desk, Violetta went over the manila file in her hooves. "Just a moment, sir... Ah, yes, here we are..."

After vacating the race track and putting away the steam car in the garage, the quaternion had gathered in their VIP’s office for further discussion, while Lieutenant Vi had gone to dig around the Canterlot Palace Military Office for Hoofstrong's file. Like any officer who achieved the rank of colonel, regardless of their birthright or background, Hoofstrong had been granted a personal affinity and issued with a VIP escort for the standard three months, courtesy of the CPMO. Beyond that, she would have been expected to hire her own retainers, if she wanted them. That was on top of whatever guards, drivers, or other operational aides the military itself assigned to her.

"The Major-General, then a colonel, had just been commissioned as commander of the First Air Division, having previously been promoted from commander of the 27th Air Superiority Wing. The Privy Council authorized a single affinity, and the CPMO assigned two guardsponies to serve in alternating shifts as required."

Honour actually didn't know very much about Hoofstrong, but it certainly seemed as though she had risen properly up through the ranks.

Behind his desk, Anonymous scribbled a few notes, then looked up. "Just a moment, Lieutenant. I'm not quite clear on the rules concerning 'affinities.' What exactly are the conditions entitling someone to a personal escort?"

As Violetta continued to riffle through the pages, trying to find the relevant notes and looking a bit upset at having to field a basic question, Honour stepped forward and nodded to her.

"Ma'am, I can field that one for you, if you'd like."

"By all means, Corporal."

Honour looked up at the Royal Engineer. "Sir, ultimately an affinity can be granted by the Privy Council to anypony, but there are three situations where it's commonly done." Holding up a hoof, she continued. "The first is when a member of the nobility requests it. They need to justify themselves a bit, but it's not hard, so long as they're only requesting the right to have a single retainer. For more than that, they have to demonstrate why a personal escort is necessary to ensure their dignity or safety, usually done by comparing themselves to other nobles. A baron can easily claim a single retainer on the basis that most other barons have one, and a count can just as easily claim two on the same basis, and so on."

The corporal glanced around and looked at the rest of her quaternion members -- not a lot of ponies could claim the privilege of a full four-count quaternion affinity. And it sure seemed like they’d been together on this assignment for a lot more than just two weeks.

"Whatever the reason, if the affinity is granted they won't be getting anything free from the Royal Guard; it's on them to hire their own. Often, those ponies will be minor members of the nobility themselves; landless gentlecolts looking for a respectable career without the hazards of the military or the indignity of ordinary servitude."

Anonymous nodded. "I see."

Honour continued. "The second case is for foreign dignitaries and diplomats. When residing at the palace they're automatically given a VIP escort for the duration of their stay, but even if they're living elsewhere, they're still often given a standard three-month assignment for free as a sort of 'Welcome to Equestria' gift, which can be extended at the Privy Council's discretion."

Glamerspear piped up beside her. "It also lets the Royal Guard keep a close eye on important newcomers. Those guardsponies' weekly reports go straight to the 'diplomatic corps.’"

That was a common euphemism for the Canterlot Intelligence Agency, but the Royal Engineer didn't know that.

"By 'diplomatic corps,' sir, Specialist Glamerspear means-"

"The spy agency, yes, I figured. If Equestria keeps tabs on newcomers like that I'm half surprised I wasn't assigned an escort earlier, to be honest."

That was unusual. A hairless bipedal monkey-creature suddenly appeared in Equestria, and he wasn’t placed under diplomatic observation? Then again, Honour didn’t actually know the circumstances of Anonymous' arrival. Maybe he was spied on in other ways.

Still reviewing her papers, Lieutenant Violetta looked up and cleared her throat. "Ahem, actually, sir, the CPMO did originally receive a request to issue you an escort when you arrived in Canterlot, but it was withdrawn shortly thereafter without an explanation. I was responsible for your file back then as well."

‘They made a request and then cancelled it?’

‘That's even more unusual.’

Glamerspear scoffed. "Huh, weird. I wonder why they changed their minds."

Violetta returned to her papers. "I couldn't say, Specialist."

Shrugging, Anonymous waved a hand towards the earth pony. "Whatever the reason, please continue, Corporal."

Honour nodded. "The third case for granting an affinity and issuing guards is when somepony achieves a 'high station' in Equestrian society. The definition of 'high station' is flexible, but can include major celebrities, local heroes, military officers who are promoted to command of a division or a particularly prestigious regiment, elected politicians, and important bureaucrats like yourself."

"Hmm. I never really thought of myself as a bureaucrat before now..." He trailed off, and Honour wasn’t quite sure what to say. Considering that just moments ago she was herself complaining about the bureaucracy, lumping Anonymous in with them almost felt mean.

Luckily, Honour had Lieutenant Vi there to dryly state the facts. "As a member of the Privy Council, m'Lord, you are technically not a bureaucrat, as you are not a part of any bureaucratic organization." She closed the manila folder and continued on. "You are an appointed member of the government, serving directly at the whim of Their Royal Majesties. And it is for this reason that you are entitled to an affinity."

Anonymous nodded. "I see. I suppose Their Majesties didn't think I needed one while I was cooped up in here working on writing my theory-book." He grinned and looked around the room. "It's a strange feeling, having been surrounded by these four walls for the past eight months. Besides an evening jog, a visit to the library, or the occasional meeting elsewhere in the palace, I really hadn't left here at all until two weeks ago."

Shrugging, he looked over at Temper. "But enough about me. What can you tell me about Major-General Hoofstrong, Lieutenant?"

‘Time for the real reason she’s still here.’

"Yes, sir. I see here that Georgia Hoofstrong enlisted in the Royal Guard air corps thirty-four years ago--"

Once again, Glamerspear interjected. "Wait a minute, enlisted? She's a mustang, ma'am?"

Temper gave her a curt nod. "Yes she is, Specialist."

Anonymous furrowed his brow and squinted. "I'm sorry, she's a what?"

Honour piped up. "A mustang officer, sir, is one who was promoted up from the enlisted ranks."

The Royal Engineer nodded. "Ah. So I take it she's not a noblepony, then?"

Surprisingly, Violetta didn’t shake her head. "Actually, sir, 'Hoofstrong' is a minor Cloudsdale noble house, and the Major-General is a gentlemare. I don't have the details, but she either could not or chose not to purchase a commission, and instead enlisted into the Guard as a common soldier."

After scribbling a bit on his notepad, Anonymous looked up. "The purchase of commissions -- that's what this is all about, isn't it? Lieutenant Kilfeather said as much when he came by last week to collect the remains of his helmet."

Violetta nodded. "I would imagine so, sir. The Major-General is in a unique position to criticize the practice, having risen first to sergeant before being commissioned as a lieutenant during a time when such exceptional cross-promotions were the only alternative to purchasing one's rank -- the Royal Military Academy, the officer training school, is itself just twenty-five years old."

Honour knew a bit of history about the RMA herself, and elaborated on the Lieutenant's answer. "The only exception is the Royal Artillery School, which has existed for almost a century, and has accepted officer candidates from any background since its founding."

Temper lifted an eyebrow, surprised by her interjection. "Corporal Bound is correct, m'Lord, but the Royal Artillery was seen as unglamorous by the nobility, and the requirement for such a formal, mathematical education caused its officers to be looked down upon by the rest."

Anonymous sighed. "This sounds complicated. I suppose Kilfeather was right again when he said I didn't really understand what was going on with his 'Pas de Sabots.'"

The lieutenant tilted her head. "It is rare for a noblepony like the Major-General to be against the purchase of commissions, but Georgia Hoofstrong would hardly be the only one. A largely uninterrupted period of prosperity in Equestria has led to the elevation of a large number of nouveau riche entrepreneurial families, and the gradual impoverishment of the landed noble houses. That, combined with repeated examples of mismanagement from noble officers who bought their way into a rank far beyond their skill to handle, has turned the general public, and even the competent members of that group, almost entirely against the practice." Arching her eyebrows, she shut the folder and tucked it under a foreleg. "Why, I even count myself among their number."

Honour turned towards the Lieutenant, surprised. "You're a gentlemare, ma'am?"

She nodded. "Yes. The Violettas are a cadet branch of the Rosettas, who control significant amounts of property north of Canterlot. My family could afford to purchase me a captaincy in an infantry regiment, but I wanted a formal education as well, and they refused to pay for both." Pursing her lower lip, she shrugged. "I chose to attend Canterlot University for three years, earning my Honors Bachelor of Arts with a major in history, then enrolled in the Academy -- which is free for qualified candidates possessing such a degree -- to graduate as a ordinary Lieutenant Junior Grade."

Honour had never gotten the unmistakable 'vibe' from Violetta of somepony who'd gone through the Academy, but then again, the lieutenant had never had to command them on a battlefield and thereby exposed the rigidity of her training. The Academy didn't really teach running a bunch of VIP quaternions from the Canterlot Palace Military Office. The work involved in getting a degree in history, though -- that might actually be good training for what the Lieutenant was doing now. Lots of reading, researching, and writing.

Anonymous nodded, smiling. "Oh, really, you majored in history? What was your minor?"

Violetta didn’t skip a beat before replying in the stiff tone of a committed servant. "Musical theater, sir."

‘Seriously?’

‘This stick-up-her-plot mare studied singing and dancing?’

It must've just been a bunch of bird courses for her; something to pad out her curriculum.

Glamerspear immediately vocalized what Honour was thinking. "Pfffft, seriously... ma'am?!"

That last little important piece of courtesy came a little late, but the lieutenant let it slide, instead shifting slightly in her place and puffing out her tuft. "Yes. I happen to adore the theater; I have season's tickets to The Sardinia, you know. Wouldn't miss a single show." Cocking an eyebrow, she turned to the Royal Engineer. "I trust your Lordship enjoyed the performance of 'The Magician' two weeks ago? I studied at C.U. alongside James Broadbarrel, who played the title role in that production."

‘She's serious!’

Glamerspear's eyes went incredulously wide, and Honour had to stop her own from doing the same.

Anonymous smiled and gestured with his free hand. "Oh, he was fantastic. Such a powerful voice. Specialist Sparkshower, you enjoyed his performance as well, didn't you?"

The armored pegasus nodded loudly, her armor clattering as she did so. "Yeah, he was great! You could feel the whole theater reverberate when he sang. Gosh, and you know him personally, ma'am? Wow, friends with a star!"

Honour’s blue-blooded and cold-blooded commanding officer nodded, and the corporal spotted the creeping start of a smug smile on Violetta’s face. "Indeed. We sang together in the school production of 'The Barons and the Breezie.' I'd be happy to arrange for a backstage introduction the next time your Lordship visits The Sardinia."

‘Spoken like a true socialite urbane noblemare.’

‘And what's this about her actually having a singing voice?’

Glamerspear's jaw hung open briefly in shock before she shook herself back to normality.

Honour had never really chatted up the Lieutenant, not that fraternization between officers and enlisted was encouraged, but after that exchange, she was glad she’d never tried -- it hadn't been obvious at first, but now it was clear that they had very little in common. Manners and social status being at the top of the list of differences.

The Royal Engineer brought things back on track. "That sounds lovely, Lieutenant. But let's get back to the matter before us. What else can you tell me about the Major-General?"

At this, the lieutenant pulled the folder back out from under her shoulder and opened it up again. "A few things, sir. Hoofstrong has a reputation as a 'no-nonsense' commander, having been responsible for the demotion or dismissal of several officers under her command for offenses that ordinarily would merely have gotten the perpetrators transferred to another regiment. Under her command, the 27th Air Superiority Wing cemented its status as the premier air combat group in the Royal Guard, with a particularly spectacular performance in the MXP Games, then known as the Grand Tournament. She's a veteran of several conflicts, and a decorated Legate of the Order of the Ram."

"That's a military honor, I take it?"

Violetta looked over at Glamerspear, who was wearing her Silver Ram on its white-and-blue ribbon. As a Legate, Hoofstrong would have a gold one herself, along with a blue mantle for ceremonial occasions.

"Yes, sir. Your own Specialist Glamerspear is a Centurion of the Ram, herself."

Anonymous followed the lieutenant’s gaze over to the unicorn, who suddenly looked uncomfortable in the spotlight. The Royal Engineer spoke up with some surprise. "I had no idea. Is that the medal on you now, Specialist? I don't remember seeing you with it before, though I remember Kilfeather muttering something about it."

The pink-and-teal pony swallowed. "Yes, sir. I wasn't accustomed to wearing this openly until a week ago, when I returned to your service."

Honour knew this story already, but she supposed the Royal Engineer had been kept in the dark. Still, he hadn't asked -- until now.

"Did something change after your injury?"

Glamerspear took a deep breath, but the look of worry was replaced by a steady smile. "Yes, sir. I found some more self-confidence I didn't know I had."

Cocking an eyebrow, Anonymous nodded. "It sounds like I'll want you with me when I visit the Major-General, then."

Violetta piped up in agreement. "Yes, sir. That would be my recommendation as well. Though I would also recommend bringing a second for protocol reasons. Corporal Bound would be my suggestion; a higher-ranking bodyguard is more prestigious."

"If that's the case, maybe I should bring Sergeant Ebonshield? Though, I suppose DADT might make her more of a liability."

"I'm afraid it would, sir."

Tapping his quill on the pad, Anonymous shifted his jaw sideways and furrowed his brow. "If I'm going to call on her with two armed guards, and if Hoofstrong is a career military officer, you have me half-wondering if I ought to show up in my suit of armor, rather than my formal wear."

Violetta shook her head. "I'd advise against it, sir, unless you have any military or combat achievements to your name. Although your particular set isn't nearly as garishly ornate as is the present fashion, nobleponies trotting around in elaborate armor while shying away from actual battle is another irritant for meritocratic reformers like the Major-General."

Anonymous scribbled down some more notes, then nodded. "Fair enough. All right, so I know what to wear, who to bring, and a little about who I have to talk to. Now the question is -- how do I set up the meeting?"

Violetta tucked the manila folder back under her foreleg, raising her eyebrows. "Ordinarily, a request to use Canterlot airspace would be directed to the Office of the Air Controller for Canterlot, which is under the First Air Division. The authorization form would eventually land at the desk of Major-General Hoofstrong, where either she or her adjutant would have to approve it on its own merits. For a request like this, the testing of a prototype weapons platform, there would doubtless be numerous questions about the device in question and the risks involved -- questions which would surely attract the attention of the Ordnance Division, and others, too."

She cleared her throat before continuing, looking a little uncomfortable with what she was about to say. "...Since your Lordship expressed a desire to avoid such... 'bureaucratic entanglements,' I would suggest instead a direct approach. Request a meeting directly with the Major-General, and make your case to her in person."

The Royal Engineer nodded. "All right... but how do I do that? Don't I need an introduction from someone else, first?"

As the Lieutenant stifled back an uncomfortable sigh, probably flustered by Anonymous' ignorance of social customs, Honour piped up again. "Sir, you're a member of the Blue Chamber, and well within your rights to directly contact a government official like the Major-General, particularly for activities within the purview of your position."

Violetta nodded in the corporal’s direction, looking relieved, but Anonymous still appeared confused. "All right, but surely I don't just show up at her door, unannounced?"

For someone who could be so well-mannered -- Honour still remembered how gracefully he received Princess Luna -- he sure could miss some obvious clues.

"No, sir, of course not. You send a calling card politely requesting a meeting and proposing a time, just as you've received several yourself while we've been in your service. One of us can deliver it for you."

Finally, a light turned on in her VIP's head, and he tapped his free hand on his chin. "Ahhhh, yes, of course! Have to pay a visit to a stationery shop first, then, I suppose. I actually haven't got any of those -- all of the formal meetings I've been at so far were arranged by others."

He really had been shut in there for eight months if he'd never had to arrange his own meeting. Then again, while working on a book consisting of dumping out his own knowledge, when would he have ever needed to set up an appointment of his own? Ponies have wanted to meet with him to pick his brain, not the other way around.

With a smile on his face, he tore off the page of notes from his notepad and slipped it into one of the trays on his desk. "We can take care of that tomorrow. Anything else to add, Lieutenant? I suppose this is my first real foray into politics; I could use any other advice you have to offer."

Before she could answer, something caught his eyes elsewhere on his desk, and he picked up a sealed envelope from his 'in' tray, then pulled open a drawer and withdrew a small letter-opener. Today's mail, Honour supposed -- they’d all been either out or asleep for most of it, so he was only just now getting to his correspondence.

"No, sir. Though, if I might venture, it would be uncharitable to refer to Major-General Hoofstrong as a 'politician.’"

Anonymous looked up from cutting open the letter, as Violetta continued.

"She's a reformer; an aggressive one, certainly, given the recent events, but I sincerely believe she's acting out of a genuine desire to improve the Royal Guard, rather than operating on behalf of somepony else."

He nodded. "Of course... I'll have to be careful if the subject comes up in discussion. Thank you very much for the help, Lieutenant."

"At your service, my Lord Engineer." With a simple salute, Lieutenant Violetta stuffed the file envelope into her saddle bags and turned to leave.

"Ten-shun!" Calling out, Honour brought the quaternion to attention and made sure their commanding officer was given her due on the way out. Even Sergeant Ebonshield, who was a silent observer to this whole exchange, gave a respectful bow.

Honour was developing a new level of appreciation for her stiff and stuffy Lieutenant Violetta. She was a desk jockey, but the corporal already knew she was a competent one. The new light for Honour was seeing Temper put her VIP's best interests before her desire to obey common protocol; that counted for something in Honour’s book. After all, why even serve in the VIP section if you weren’t going to put the VIPs first?

Sparkshower held the door open, still saluting, as Temper Violetta left, having brushed-over a serious breach of Canterlot airspace security and, possibly against regulations, given him some preparation for what could escalate into a fight with a powerful figure in the Royal Guard.

As the door closed behind the lieutenant, Honour turned her attention back to the desk, where Anonymous held the opened letter in his hands, looking over at her.

"I guess we'll call it a day for now. Corporal, you might as well let everypony get some rest. Just leave me whoever's scheduled to be on duty -- I'm heading out into the city." The Royal Engineer got to his feet before she could answer, waving the paper around with a smile on his face. "This is from the Bridle Path Clothiers -- my Gala suit's ready for the final fitting, and they're open late tonight. Who's coming with me to see how they've done?"

Honour looked over at the group's pegasus. "Specialist Sparkshower's on duty this evening, sir."

"Perfect! Let's go, Specialist! I'll just grab my sash before we step out."

"Yes, sir!"

Their Very Important Pony, who isn't actually a pony, stepped over to the rack by the door and donned his jacket.

‘Guess that's my cue to get everypony else to bed.’

"Good night, sir."

Anonymous shot her a smile as he neatly bundled up his red sash into a bag. "Good-night, Corporal, and thanks for your help today." Flipping his top hat onto his head, he grabbed the brim and nodded at Glamerspear and Ebonshield. "And the same to you, Specialist and Sergeant."

With that, he exited the room, the four of them following after him.

It was just down to Honour to lock the door.

Funny end to a strange day, though...

Chapter 83

Artemis Sparkshower

Artemis was feeling a little under-dressed. Which was not a common feeling for her; not when she was trotting around with forty pounds of polished bronze armor hanging on her back! But there in the 'Bridle Path Clothiers,' among the elegantly-dressed salescolts in their neat suit jackets adorned with crisp shirts and ties, starched cuffs and collars, and ornately-folded and flared pocket squares, the pegasus felt a bit oppressed by the quiet, formal luxury of it all. While they silently glided around the store on flat leather-soled shoes that somehow barely made a creak in the floorboards, the best Artemis could manage, no matter how much she tried to make herself inconspicuous -- or at least, less conspicuous -- was still a thunderous clatter of plate and jingle of mail. It was like trying to tip-hoof around a library!

Most of the staff were colts, but there were a couple of mares as well -- and what they were wearing… It reminded Artemis of the kinds of dresses Lily and Purity wore out on the town, all high up in the dock and low down on the shoulder. Snug in the barrel, too, with a stretchiness to the fabric that seemed to make even the act of breathing something sinuous and... provocative.

But these mares weren't going out to dance indecently with random colts in a dark and smoky night-club! They were just standing like posed dolls at a podium outside the entrance to this brightly-lit coltswear shop. And how they fawned over every new customer -- 'Welcome to the Bridle Path!', they said, with broad smiles and little shakes of their manes or wiggles of their tails. Still, though, the customer-colts coming in seemed to appreciate the reception. The mares who sometimes accompanied them, perhaps less so.

Artemis supposed she had to count herself in that group. And that was a bit ironic, because from what Honour and Lily had made clear to her, the usual role for a bodyguard was to serve as 'eye candy' for their VIP, just as those mares at the front were there to give this store in Canterlot's fashionable Poole Street district a little more 'street presence' ahead of the Grand Galloping Gala.

Artemis didn't doubt that several of the nicer dress shops Lily had visited with her on Sunday probably had the same setup going on in reverse. A few colts of assorted sizes and tempers, wearing clothing perhaps a half-size too small, serving as receptionists in front of oodles of salesmares dressed up to show off the store's finest fashions. The mere thought of such a gaggle of overbearing, tightly-cropped stallions was enough to make the pegasus feel a bit flushed underneath her gorget.

But what really got up Artemis’ bascinet-helm was how poorly everypony around here seemed to be treating the Gala itself! It was as if it wasn't a revered holiday, a Canterlot-specific celebration of the vernal equinox which also marked the founding of Equestria's capital. Instead, they seemed to be treating it as a commercial fashion expo!

Well, Artemis supposed it was Canterlot. This is where Equestrian high fashion came from.

And, now that she thought about it, she’d bet probably every major social event around here was treated as a kind of ‘flaunt-your-money’ pageant. If she was really honest with herself, that's how a lot of ponies treated the equivalent 'First Fruit Festival' back in Berry. The wealthier Berry ponies would try to catch a ride into Canterlot a month or two ahead of time to grab themselves a new outfit -- or at least see what styles were hanging on the ponnequins in the store windows. As for the ones who merely liked to pretend they were rich, they had to make do with just trying to gussy up their old threads.

‘Oh, hailstorms, the one-upponeship that went on before, during, and after Berry's F.F.F.!’

Artemis sighed, and her armor clattered on her shoulders. Neither the commercial exploitation of the Gala nor the seasonal pretentiousness of her hometown's inhabitants were the thing that was actually upsetting the armored scout. She couldn't even claim to be uncomfortable anymore for standing out; in the time since the Royal Engineer had arrived, a few other colts had walked into the store, accompanied with armored guardsmares of their own. Though, of course, Artemis still had half again as much bronze on herself as they had between the two of them. But, at least there was a bit more ambient noise to mask her thunderous motions.

No, her current frustrations could be boiled down to just one particular colt. Not the Royal Engineer, of course -- he was standing on a small podium in front of a set of mirrors, while one of the shop's unicorn tailors made some final adjustments to his suit, pinning back the trouser-legs and cuffs for the finishing hems. The salespony waiting on her VIP gave a thin-lipped smile as he waited for the needle-worker to finish their business.

"And I hope that sir is satisfied with the appearance of his suit so far?"

Anonymous nodded. "Oh, certainly, certainly. I think you've done an excellent job of capturing my intentions." The Royal Engineer glanced over in Artemis’ direction. "What do you think, Specialist? Fancy enough for the Gala?"

‘Now there's a flash-flood of a question!’

How would she know?

She’d never been!

And Lily previously derided her idea of what exactly constituted 'fashionable' dress...

It sure was a shock to find out that puffed sleeves were wholly unsuited to Canterlot.

Thinking back to the outfits Artemis had seen other ponies trying on so far, she tried to make a snap judgement. "Er... Uh... Well, sir, it certainly seems to be in the right class..." Narrowing her eyes, she scanned her VIP up and down. "...But shouldn't you have something for your lapel? A flower boutonnière?"

He glanced down at his collar, then nodded. "You're right, I should. And after I specified a stem-holder, too." Smirking, he bobbed his head sideways before looking back at the salespony. "And I suppose that's something I should see a florist about now, because otherwise they'll all certainly be sold-out on the day-of?"

The salespony nodded. "It would certainly be advisable to make arrangements for a fresh-cut arrangement ahead of time, sir. As the Gala is fundamentally a festival of the spring, sir, I note that corsages are considered almost mandatory for mares."

‘Finally, somepony gets it!’

‘The Gala is a festival of flowers and fruit and everything else that comes along with spring!‘

"But for the gentlecolts, I may note that lapel pins are also considered quite appropriately fashionable."

‘No, no, no!’

"I might suggest several fine jewellers capable of supplying jewellery to sir's taste, such as for example The House of Cards." The salespony trailed off, but her VIP looked interested in hearing more -- so there was no time to lose!

"No!"

Artemis’ sudden outburst garnered her more attention than the clattering of her armor ever did. "... I mean, no, sir. It's important that you wear a flower -- a real one."

Both the salescolt and the Royal Engineer looked at the pegasus with one eyebrow raised, waiting to hear her explanation. She swallowed and took a second to make sure she had the right words to speak -- and that she had them in the right order, too.

"Sir, the Gala is a festival celebrating not just the renewed life and new growth brought on by spring, but the rebirth of Equestria as a whole after the tragic sundering of the Twin Crowns a thousand years ago. Canterlot Palace itself is a memorial to that awful event -- and its gardens in particular..."

It felt strange telling these kinds of legends in a coltswear store, but there was no getting around it; her VIP had to hear them!

"...They say that Princess Celestia planted a rosebush for every pony who was lost when the Castle of the Two Sisters fell. Since the first Gala, guests have worn flowers to remember." Turning her head left and right, Artemis beheld the racks of expensive clothing, fancy materials, and luxurious accessories on display. “If you care about the real meaning behind the event, then you should honor tradition and wear a flower boutonnière."

After a tense moment where she was left breathlessly waiting for a response, Anonymous finally nodded his head. "All right, Specialist Sparkshower, I'll do as you ask." Shaking his wrists at his hips and shuffling his feet to feel out the suit, he smiled at his reflection in the mirror, then glanced down at the salescolt. "What do I know, after all? I'm still a stranger here."

With good humor, the salescolt brushed over Artemis’ emotional outburst. "Sir's attendant speaks of legend, but is correct as to tradition. Tulips are the preferred flower for this occasion. If sir is interested in additional ornamentation, then a decorative lapel vase may be used as an accent as well."

‘A lapel vase?’

‘Gosh, there are levels of fanciness I didn't realize were even possible.‘

Anonymous laughed. "Hah, the best of both worlds; I like it. I'll speak to my florist about the idea."

The salescolt courteously nodded in agreement, as Artemis breathed a sigh of relief.

‘Hurricane dodged.’

With the tailor having finished with measurements, the Royal Engineer headed off to one of the private rooms to change back into his ordinary dress, and Artemis was left alone with her thoughts for a moment. Her VIP really was a perfect gentlecolt, just as Honour had reassured her after that unpleasant misunderstanding when he’d taken her to The Sardinia Theatre. She barely stifled a shudder when she thought of just how miserable she’d felt the moment Glamerspear loudly proclaimed that she’d somehow sold her body by accepting his invitation.

To say nothing of how the debacle put her own home-front problems in focus, too.

‘Oh, thundershowers!’

What was Artemis going to do about her Huckleberry Pudding? It was almost a week ago she’d told him about the Gala ticket waiting for him in Canterlot -- yet still nothing. And she knew that the Canterlot-Berry mail route only took a single day. She specifically checked up on that before accepting her VIP posting! She wasn’t about to be shipped off somewhere with a two-week delay in correspondence to her coltfriend, not if she could help it! But that just meant he must have received the letter and hadn't yet figured out how to respond to it.

Artemis sighed again. Didn't he know how important this was to her?

When else would she ever have the chance to dance the Maypole at The Grand Galloping Gala?

Not that she was denigrating the First Fruit Festival or anything!

...Well, maybe she was, a little bit.

Still, though, what an opportunity!

How could any pony possibly permit passing it up?

But the pegasus knew exactly what kind of pony could, and his name started with 'Huck' and ended with 'LeBerry' -- that is, if he were a Prench 'Poulenet de Terre.' He was stubborn, and set in his ways, and even though there was a world of possibilities open to him, he still kept his blinders on. Artemis knew now, just as she’d already known when she penned the letter that, if he even wrote back, it would only be to say 'no.'

She’d just lied to herself and pretended the answer might actually be 'yes.'

Suddenly, Artemis found herself sniffling back tears, and she had to bring up one forehoof to wipe them away.

‘Sleet and hail, it isn’t fair!’

Or… Maybe it was her who wasn't being fair. For putting her Puddin' on the spot like that. Forcing him to spell out his reasons for doing something she already knew he wasn't going to do.

‘I shouldn't have pushed him like that.‘

‘Shouldn't have sent him the letter.‘

It was her own selfishness, her own maybe-foolish desire to experience the magic of Canterlot's Grand Gala. Maybe Artemis didn't deserve it, after all.

The Royal Engineer stepped back out of the change-room and hoofed -- handed, rather -- the folded-up, incomplete suit to the tailor, pausing only for a moment to adjust his jacket.

‘Hmmm…’

Maybe there was a way she could have what she wanted, without pressuring her Puddin,' or dishonoring either of them...

Maybe...

Suggested interlude music: Jennifer Rush - 'The Power of Love' [1984]
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b_zHQ6kFuQ0

Chapter 84

Lily Glamerspear

Somewhere, buried in this massive tome, were the answers Specialist Lily Glamerspear sought.

'De Magia Unicornis,’ the great-granddaddy of old books of unicorn magic, sat open before her on the card table. At first, she was reading it to try to bone up on her own skills and avoid a repeat of the massive case of manaburn that left her out of commission for a week. But now, she was also looking through it hoping to find some explanation for the batpony balladeer's strange abilities.

What sorcery had he used to conjure up those sand-creatures and animate them with such skill? And all without a horn, too!

Well, that last puzzle probably wouldn’t be solved in a book exclusively about unicorn magic, but you never know. The ancient Equestrian philosopher-poet who wrote it, Titus Wealthwisher, was pretty clever for a colt who lived before the invention of running water or mini-saddles, and it was also required reading at Canterlot's magical university, the Schola Magia. Not that Lily had a degree under her collar, but knowing that the thing had a serious pedigree helped to make her headache seem worth it.

She’d probably have less of a migraine if her sergeant, the batpony assassin Purity Ebonshield, wasn't pacing repeatedly back and forth across the living room, right in front of her. Wearing a long maroon bodycon maxi dress and clearly ready to make herself up to go out, Ebonshield was waiting for their tight-lipped Corporal Bound to finish whatever business she was up to in the washroom. And Honour had been in there for a long time, now. From what noises Lily had heard, it wasn't an 'overdosed on hayburgers in the chow hall' kind of stay, either.

Looking up from the archaic text, Lily watched as the dark purple batpony reached the far wall and turned around with a sigh. Finally, she gave up and stepped over towards the unicorn. "Do you suppose there may be a problem with the corporal?"

That was actually a little hard to tell. Lily looked over at the closed door; there were shower noises before, but now there was just the occasional sound of running water. Was Honour simply worn out and treating herself to a kind of mini-spa in there? She hadn't complained after waking up that afternoon, but sleeping during the daylight hours after that midnight shift in the Rookery had thrown everyone for a steeplechase. And even with heavy, royal-blue curtains, it was tough to make their bedrooms dark while the sun was out.

If it wasn't that, maybe driving the car had worn her out? Did she even like piloting that thing? The Royal Engineer seemed to always be putting her in the driver's seat.

Lily herself was still feeling a bit tired from her struggle to hit Sparkshower. But then again, she also got to ride a bit of a high after she did figure it out. With the Royal Engineer's help, of course.

Even if Honour was tired, though, what was she doing in the washroom?

Lily shrugged. "I dunno, Sarge. Why don't you knock and ask?"

Ebonshield rolled her eyes and glanced towards the mysterious portal. "I have done this last Thursday when the corporal was brooding in her room; I would prefer for it not to become habitual." Turning back to Lily, Ebonshield lowered her voice. "You do not know any secret reason why she may be preoccupied?"

The unicorn chuckled. "Heh, not unless she's planning on going out."

‘Now that'd be something!’

‘Fat chance, though.’

Ebonshield sighed. "Well. I suppose it will be no trouble if I am a little late."

Lily glanced at the clock; the sun was down, but it was only seven o'clock in the evening. Kind of early to be going out clubbing, but then again, it was also a Wednesday. Maybe she was going to a concert or something?

Glamerspear nodded at her. "Going to 'The Stables' again?"

Ebonshield stepped over and shook her head, her big back-combed mane waving left and right. "No... The young unicorn colt that I met two nights ago at 'Earthquake,' he has invited me to a private event at the university of magic, a 'Party of Brotherhood,' he called it."

‘A 'Party of Brotherhood'?’

‘At the univers--Ahhhhh.’

"Oh, a frat party..."

Figures she'd pick up a university colt at 'Earthquake.' Cheapest drinks in Canterlot's clubland -- perfect for broke students. And that place seemed to always be in the newspapers, getting fined or even raided for having failed to properly check everypony's ID before letting them in -- or serving them booze. The owners probably thought of it as free marketing for the thirsty and desperate.

Lily raised an eyebrow. "So your latest conquest is a frat-colt, huh? Which one is he from, Mu Lambda Pi? Phi Iota Mu? Those are two of the big ones at the Schola Magia, I think."

The batpony furrowed her brow. "He told me the Brotherhood in question was named 'Rho Gamma Mu.’"

‘She hooked up with a dork from ΡΓΜ?’

Lily couldn’t help but chuckle. "Hoo-boy, you got deep in with the nerdbros on that one. Hope you're ready for an evening of cheap beer, popped wizard collars, and arguments about 'HyperSpace HyperWars' or whatever else geeky crap they're into these days."

Ebonshield sidled up to her, looking pleased that she seemed to know about it. "My chico said that the event may be 'rowdy,' but that it would be fun and well-attended and, if I disagreed, that we could find entertainment elsewhere as well." She bobbed her head sideways, looking aimlessly around the room. "And as for the imbibing, I have a small box of the 'Maestro Cazador' which I will bring as a gift..."

Turning towards the specialist, she shoved her snout uncomfortably close. "... It is polite to bring a gift to an Equestrian party, no?"

Lily snorted. "You're bringing a case of that stiff batpony liquor to a frat party? They're going to love you for that. Just make sure they don't chug it down in a single gulp." Lifting a hoof, she shook it side to side hesitantly. "And later in the night, watch out for anyone getting a bit too hoofy-muzzley with their telekinesis. Most young ponies can't handle as much liquor as they think they can, and in a frat house full of cocksure unicorns they probably all think they can handle a whole lot."

Still keeping her nose right in front of the pink mare -- she’d regressed a bit back to those weird batpony manners of hers, it seemed, where getting up close was 'polite' -- Ebonshield nodded. "Do you think it is a mistake to attend? I do not wish to cause a disturbance."

Shrugging, Lily placed her forehooves down on the chair seat in front of her.

‘The second-in-charge of the batpony assassins, versus a bunch of nerdy young drunk frat unicorn colts?’

‘Yeah, right.’

"Nah, you'll be fine. Whatever a bunch of mostly-minors get up to on a school night in the Schola is gonna be nothing compared to the kind of 'buck-buck' games a company of bored-outta-their-brains guardsponies will manage to do in a barracks while waiting for weekend libo."

Suddenly suspicious, Lily leaned back and glanced down at Purity’s hind legs. The batpony caught her looking -- no surprise, with her face still right in front of the unicorn’s -- and she silently spread one of her hind legs out a bit to reveal that underneath the maxi dress, she was wearing one of her spring-loaded daggers.

"... I was gonna say you're maybe a bit overdressed in that, but I guess you've got a good reason to go long in the back." Chortling, Lily sat back up and shook her head. "I can't blame you for being prepared, but I really doubt you're gonna need to stab anypony."

Eb nodded and stood back up. "I likewise hope not."

Just then, there was the sound of a toilet flushing, and the washroom door opened. Both Lily and Eb turned to look.

Honour Bound stepped into the living room, wearing her red Royal Guard dress jacket with gold double-chevrons on her sleeves; the mark of a corporal. The fabric was in excellent condition, and all of the brass fittings appeared to be freshly-polished.

‘Is it uniform inspection day tomorrow or something?’

She was even wearing the white belt and tall calf-height black boots -- all she was missing to complete the formal outfit was the cap with its crisp chin-strap! But it was the lipstick and the eyeliner Honour was wearing that told Lily that something was definitely up.

Ebonshield likewise gave her a quick once over. "Good evening, Corporal. You are dressed well; is there an event tonight?"

There was a noticeable delay before Honour replied, and she looked embarrassed to be put on the spot. Clearly, she didn't expect the two of them to pay any attention to her when she stepped out.

"I'm... just going out to meet with a friend."

‘Oho, what's this?’

Lily couldn't resist a smirk. "A 'friend,' huh, Corporal?"

That got her some sharp cut-eye from the brown pony in the red suit, but she didn’t reply.

Instead, it was Eb who pressed the issue, with an amused grin on her face. "Ahh, yes... Would this perhaps be the same 'friend' who escorted you back here late at night on the Sunday?"

‘What in the buck?’

Did their batpony sergeant, who seemed to find a fresh colt to bonk every night -- except maybe tonight, when she was going back for seconds -- catch their earth-pony corporal in the act?

Honour's eyes briefly flashed wide open, then narrowed back down to slits as she furrowed her brow. "How did you... I'm not sure I want to know."

Purity smiled. "I heard your voices in the hallway. He sounded friendly."

‘Wait, was Eb waiting up in her room for Honour on Sunday night?’

‘And just how good is her hearing?!’

Lily vaguely recalled waking up and going to the washroom pretty late, and noticing that Honour's door was still open, and -- ‘guh!’

Suddenly, she remembered clearly -- too clearly. Eb was up in her room all right, but she sure wasn't alone in there.

‘Double-guh!’

The Corporal's brow furrowed up even more, but without prompting, Purity shrugged her shoulders and continued. "My little chico that night, you see, he was enthusiastic and noisy also, which are of course desirable qualities, but he was also strong-headed and eager to apply his own 'technique' which, I must admit, was not terribly satisfying." She giggled a little bit. "So as a result, I was somewhat easily distracted."

Honour looked as flabbergasted as Lily felt scandalized.

‘Really?’

‘This batpony just lays it all out there?’

No innuendo, and no shame; just pure, unfiltered and raw. She didn’t even have the excuse of having had a few drinks first! Lily shook her head and tried to put her nose back to her book.

'On The Spacing Of Horn Ridges And Their Effects Upon Magickal Abilities'

Eye-wateringly dry, but anything was better than hearing about the sexual misadventures of their forty-something-year-old batpony sergeant.

Honour wasn’t done, though. "How much did...?"

Eb stepped forward and headed for the washroom. "All of it, though you both said and did very little. It was what was left unsaid and undone which I found most interesting." With a sly smile, she stepped right inside and looked herself over in the mirror, still talking. "I fear I strained so much to hear what was going on outside that my pollito became aware of my loss of interest, and this soured his mood." Chuckling, she reared up and tossed her head back, then hunched over forward to attach her earrings. "...It was necessary to take some remedial actions before he was enthusiastic once more."

‘Sweet Celestia, I do not need to know these kinds of details!’

Why couldn't Lily have gotten a regular Sergeant First Class, a thirty-something who was old enough to know what was what, but not so old she felt she could say whatever the buck she wanted! Then it'd be kinda cool -- maybe -- to swap stories. But not somepony in their forties banging foals barely old enough to drink!

Exasperated, Honour stepped towards the center of the room, speaking to nopony in particular. "Look, he's just a friend, okay?"

‘Aha, the classic denial.’

Lily couldn’t help but snort with amusement as she tried to look busy reading about unicorn horn shapes. "Pfft, of course he is."

Appearing suddenly upset, Honour marched over to her and slapped a forehoof down on the table, looking the unicorn intensely in the eyes. "He's a friend. We're just meeting for some drinks in the canteen. There's nothing wrong with meeting a friend for some drinks in the canteen."

‘Now this is new.’

Whoever this colt was, he sure must be something to have her wound up like this.

Or maybe the wind-up was all her, just because it was a colt. Still, Lily didn’t want to get her so upset she’d have to run back into the washroom and redo the makeup around her eyes -- she’d taken long enough in there as it was already.

While the sergeant put the finishing touches on herself, the pink unicorn relaxed and glanced between Honour's hoof and her face. Then Lily nodded, slowly.

"Sure, whatever you say, Honour..."

As the corporal hardened her gaze, the specialist just tried to look innocent.

"... Have a good time tonight."

The hard stare melted away, replaced with a mix of regret and apprehension. With a heavy droop of her shoulders, she sidled up into one of the card-table chairs, staring down at angle, off towards something a thousand yards away.

Lily leaned across her book towards the corporal, lifting her eyebrows sympathetically.

"... First time going out with somepony in a while?"

Honour lifted her head up as if just realizing that Glamerspear was there, then nodded absentmindedly. "Two years... Not since the divorce..."

‘Oh, Celestia, I’ve heard this kind of story before.’

A fresh recruit, straight out of 'shoe camp, thinks they've hit the jackpot when they meet a nice young colt or mare at the off-base bar who's just looking to settle down and have some foals. In comes the marriage and out goes the guardspony, leaving the bucking chaos of the barracks for the quiet life of a cheap two-bedroom apartment paid for by the family housing allowance.

But ninety times out of a hundred, that thoroughbred in the stable turns into a 'dependaponymus,' and suddenly there's foals running around that the young private didn't realize they couldn't handle or afford. Suddenly life doesn't seem so easy or so fun, and the same goes for their partner. It's a struggle to keep it all together.

And those other ten times out of the hundred, things go sour even before that.

Since the corporal hadn't shown any indication of having kids, Lily guessed Honour fell into the latter category. And it must've done a real number on her if she came galloping all the way into the VIP corps, and staying in it so long that she was still sitting at corporal when she ought to be a sergeant.

Not a lot of room for promotions in here -- that's why Lily only planned to stay for half a year or so. It would only be a couple of assignments in total, but she had places to go and targets to shoot! This was just a fun distraction -- well, it should have been, if it weren't for how surprisingly busy the posting with Anonymous had turned out to be.

Pushing that to the back of her mind, Lily looked her world-weary corporal up and down. "You look good. Are you nervous?"

Honour shook her head, still facing away. "No... I just..." Sighing, she looked up at the unicorn. "... I just don't know what I'm doing with him."

‘That’s kinda weird, but not too crazy.’

‘Relationship-advice Specialist Lily Glamerspear to the rescue!’

"Well, what do you want to do with him?"

"I don't know."

‘Guh, okay…’

"Okay, so what about him? What does he want to do with you?"

"I don't know."

‘Sheesh!’

Lily couldn’t imagine how awkward this date -- and it was blindingly obvious that it was a date -- was going to be. Putting her thinking cap on, she tried to run through the colt's mind. That was easy; colts were always pretty easy to out-think, if one knew how they thought.

Which Lily did.

"This 'friend,' does he know about, y'know, how it didn't work out for you last time?"

Honour nodded. "Yes."

‘Aha, that explains it!’

"So there you go. He's playing it slow, 'cause he knows you had trouble before. You know the saying -- 'foals rush in.’"

Honour looked up, picking her back up a bit and sitting straight -- well, straighter. "I guess. I just... I miss..."

Lily knew what she was going to say before she stammered it out. "You miss being told at first glance that you're beautiful, that you're gorgeous, that you're the love of somepony's life."

The Corporal's eyes went wide with shock.

‘Puh!’

Did Honour really think that Lily didn't understand what happened to her? Just 'cause she’d taken a different road herself, didn’t mean she hadn't watched it happen to others -- and seen the carnage lying in the ditch as she rolled by. Lifting one eyebrow, the unicorn laid it all out for her.

"That's just the card the fast colts play on every mare, and believe me, Corporal, I know how seductive it can be -- especially if you aren't used to it." Lily shrugged and shook her head. "You're not the first pony to fall into that trap. But just because a colt isn't free with the compliments doesn't mean he's not interested. He just can't -- or won't -- lay the charm on thick, not like the pick-up artists at the bar or club."

Nodding, Honour put a hoof up on the table. "I guess so..."

It seemed she was still in a funk, so the specialist-cum-relationship counselor continued. "If you want things to go faster, then make a move, mare! You don't gotta leave it all up to him, ya know!"

"I know, I just... I don't know if I'm ready to."

Lilly spread her forehooves wide. "Okay, then don't! But then there's no reason to be upset about it. He's okay with playing it slow, you're okay with playing it slow -- so play it slow together! No problem! Have a nice night out and don't think about the 'greater meaning' or anything like that. Go have some drinks with your colt-friend -- or your colt 'friend,' however you want to put it -- and have a good time."

For the first time, Lily saw a smile grow on the corporal’s face. It wasn’t much of a smile, but it was there, at least.

‘Sure is a lot of work cheering up this mare, though!’

"Yeah... Thanks, Glamerspear."

The two of them exchanged smiles as Honour got up to head out, and then Lily suddenly realized what the corporal was wearing. And that's when she cleared her throat.

"Ahem. Corporal, about the outfit, though...?"

Honour looked at Lily over her shoulder. "I thought you just said I looked good?"

The unicorn grinned. "Good for a date in the canteen, sure. But for the Grand Galloping Gala, ehhhh..." Squinting, Lily shook her head. "Put a helmet on and grab a spear, and you'll look like every on-duty guardspony there. Don't you have something else?"

Honour’s mood started to sour again, but before she could complain, Lily ran right over her. "I know you don't want to make a big deal out of it, and that's fine. But just listen: I saw a bunch of nice stuff for pretty cheap when I was out with Sparks on Sunday. Come out with me tomorrow -- it won't even take half a day! -- and I'll get you into something a little more presentable for only a few bits."

Pleading, Lily raised her forehooves, trotting over any possible objections. "We're going to be there with the Royal Engineer, for Celestia's sake, and he's dressing to the nines! The least we can do to thank him for the tickets is to look good with him when we walk in and get announced, ya know? But we gotta hurry, 'cause stock is selling out fast! Things'll be on clearance soon, and then they'll really fly out of the paddocks."

Honour swallowed, her red-painted lips sucking inwards, but then she nodded. "All right. Tomorrow morning -- if somepony agrees to cover your shift."

‘Great!’

Lily immediately hollered towards the washroom. "Hey, Sarge! Since I told you all about frat parties, could you do me a favor and take my shift in the morning? I gotta take Honour to get a dress for the Gala! You shouldn't be too worn out unless you let one of those nerds try to explain the HyperSpace HyperWars rules to ya!"

The sergeant first class poked her now-made-up head out. "Oh, of course! You two should go out and find something elegant for the Corporal Bound! It will be no trouble at all; I will make sure not to be out so late that I will be sleepy tomorrow."

‘Perfect!’

Lily and Honour exchanged some thank-yous with Eb, which she returned with a half-hearted nod of acknowledgement before heading out to meet her mysterious gentlecolt.

'Now, if I could just wrap my horn around this damn book…'

As Lily flipped the page, the pink mare propped one elbow up on the table and slumped her head into the same limb's forehoof.

'Another boring night as the on-call backup.'

She wondered if Mailedhoof would drop her a card tomorrow. His family was probably heading out to the country estate in the morning; prime opportunity for some more quality time with her current salt-lick. With thoughts of another fun evening with the captain on the unicorn’s mind, she absently flipped over another page.

Chapter 85

Honour Bound

Corporal Honour Bound wasn’t sure if this could be any more awkward.

It was Thursday morning, and she, along with Glamerspear, Sparkshower, and Ebonshield, were sitting at a table in the mostly-empty servants' dining hall in Canterlot palace, finishing off breakfast before Sergeant Ebonshield went on shift.

... Except that the sergeant had last night's 'dessert' with her.

"Would you like another tortilla, mi pichoncito?"

The young colt -- a pale-blue unicorn wearing the grey cloak of a novice wizard -- patted his barrel with one forehoof, smiling. "Oh, no, Miss Purity, thank you, but I'm stuffed."

With a grin, she leaned over and patted his barrel, too. "Not as stuffed as somepony else was last niiiiight."

She giggled, he chuckled, and then her hoof wandered a little lower down and ‘yeah that’s enough looking in that direction for now.’

Honour’s only consolation (if she could really call it that) was that, as awkward as this all was for her, it seemed to be affecting Glamerspear and Sparkshower much, much more. The cream-coated pegasus wasn’t really cream anymore -- she was beet-red, and trying her best to bite her tongue and look away from the public displays of affection without appearing rude to the sergeant's 'guest' -- all while trying to finish her own second plate. Meanwhile, the pink unicorn's snout was so scrunched up, the scullery mares could use the wrinkles as a washboard. Honour was half worried Glamerspear’s muzzle was just going to just implode inwards.

Meanwhile, at the 'bring your foal to work day' part of the table, more kissy-kissy nonsense ensued, with Ebonshield nipping at the neck of her young lover of less than half her age. Daring another glance, Honour saw the colt tremble a bit, his ears twitching as she continued to flirtatiously assault his nape. It was questionable if he’d ever laid hooves on a mare before last night -- or Monday night, if this was in fact the same colt who’d invited Ebonshield to the frat party at the Schola Magia; Ebonshield hadn't really taken the time to introduce him, so who knew.

His probable recent virginity redoubled the apparent awkwardness of the whole thing, but it also put Honour’s own frustrations in focus; as bad as this breakfast was with its uninvited guest, last night's date with Castlerook had almost been worse.

The corporal had gone through the trouble of dressing up, but once again, just as on Sunday night, she had lost her nerve somewhere along the way. As a result, she’d ended up with an evening full of noncommittal pleasantries. At least Castlerook stopped telling her stories of what was going on with her old friends in Fillydelphia -- which meant she stopped being tempted to drown out the memories with liquor. And he’d also managed to subtly make it clear that he was looking forward to heading back there when his Gala-specific posting was done. Back outside Honour’s quarters, even though it was obvious that -- once again -- nothing was going to happen, he'd also less-subtly made it clear that he wanted her to come with him.

That was the biggest can of worms he'd opened so far.

One thing Honour had been certain of for a long while was that she never wanted to go back. But lately, with how she’d been feeling, she was starting to waver on that point. Either way, she hadn't committed. And Castlerook hadn't insisted. So it was another frustrating night; just Honour and her pillow, alone with her thoughts.

‘What am I doing with my life?’

‘What do I want -- from Castlerook, or anypony else?’

"... All right, mi chico y mi cuaternio. I can see that it is time for duty with the Engineer Royal..."

‘Oh, thank Celestia, it's just a few minutes to eight.’

Ebonshield got to her hooves and nodded to everypony at the table, with a special muzzle-to-muzzle goodbye for her foal-toy. "Please do not stand up because of me. Enjoy the breakfast. I will see you all in the afternoon. And, chico, you have all your things, yes?"

The young unicorn nodded. "Yes, Miss Purity."

That earned him a reassuring hoof-pat on the back. "Good. I look forward to our next encounter, mi amor."

As Ebonshield left the room, swishing her tail, Glamerspear leaned over to stare, wide-eyed, in Honour’s direction. With her snout still about to pop back into her head, she nodded sharply in the direction of the enraptured colt.

‘Well, what does she want me to do? Flush him out of here like a receding tide?’

Honour nodded right back at Glamerspear’s half-eaten breakfast. "Finish your plate, Specialist."

‘She's got to learn to hold her damn temper.’

‘It's just one little wizardling colt, what's he going to do?’

"So, uh, about Miss Purity -- have you mares known her very long?"

‘Oh, Tartarus, he's going to try to chat us all up.’

And after happening to swing into a mare who definitely did buck on the first date, he must’ve thought he was the cock of the trot.

Glamerspear blinked at Honour and somehow sucked her face in even more, before silently going back to her breakfast, as she barely stopped her eyes from popping out of her head. Sparkshower was still far too rosy-cheeked at all the making out she’d just witnessed to even think about replying.

That left the corporal to answer the colt's question, which still hung in the air.

"Only for a couple of weeks."

He lifted his eyebrows up, perhaps surprised by the answer. "Ah."

Or maybe he just had no idea what to say next to a group of three mares.

Honour glanced down at what was left of her own meal, pushing a couple of cherry tomatoes around with her muzzle. Glamerspear had insisted that she take the corporal out dress-shopping that morning, but what was even the point? The Gala would be over almost as soon as it started, and nopony would notice the brown mare drinking in the corner, no matter what she was wearing. Castlerook would be too busy on duty to hang out with her. Was he ready to make a real move on her if he wasn't, though? The Gala took up a lot of the palace rooms, but not so many that rumors didn't always swirl about couples disappearing for an hour or two.

Ebonshield's colt of the hour let out another question. "... And, uh, what are you guys, like a platoon or something? Palace security?"

Honour could see Glamerspear's eyes go even wider, and she could practically hear the specialist’s teeth grinding against each other. Sparkshower, at least, was returning to a normal color, though she was still pointedly paying all attention to her plate.

The group may have been in public at the moment, but Eb and this colt had not been quiet last night. As much as Honour was glad to not be hung over this morning, a little booze might've actually allowed her to sleep through her own frustrations -- and her neighbour's noisy emanations. Sparkshower shared the other wall with the sergeant, so she must've heard every grunt and moan, too. Maybe that's why she took off somewhere early that morning before anypony else woke up.

With one of the tomatoes in her mouth, Honour lifted her head back up and looked over at the colt. "We're VIP bodyguards for a palace dignitary."

He nodded, happy to at least have an answer, however terse. "Oh, that's pretty cool. Who is it?"

Honour shook her head. "Can't say."

Smirking as if he was in on the joke, he lifted a hoof and tapped it on his muzzle. "Ahh, heh, yeah, I get it, top secret stuff, heh." Apparently pleased with her answer, he took a moment to glance around the dining hall.

Honour left him to his inspection and looked down the row at Sparkshower. "Hey, Sparkshower..."

With just small patches of red left on her cheeks, Artemis silently looked up, mouth full of omelette.

"... Where did you scurry off to earlier this morning?"

Honour’s question erased the final traces of scandalized shock and allowed something resembling a smile to show itself. "Oh, I went to the post office, Corporal. I wanted to catch the first mail delivery of the day."

She didn’t volunteer any more, so the earth pony just replied with a knowing nod. Must've written another letter to her coltfriend. She seemed chipper enough about it, but Sparkshower seemed uncharacteristically quiet. If she really was happy, she would have gone on to talk about the letter a bit.

A few moments passed in relative silence, with just the background hum and buzz of a few dozen other palace servants and a couple of guards who, like their gang, were a little too sleepy-faced to make the trek all the way over to the barracks mess hall, and had chosen to grab a quick breakfast closer by. The place had a calming effect on Honour, which was a bit strange. A regular pony would be excited. New dress! Big gala! Getting back in the dating scene with an old flame!

Not her, though. And it just didn’t feel right.

Nothing really seemed to excite Honour any more -- except when she was on duty. The Royal Engineer was probably the strangest Very Important Pony who'd ever been served by the Royal Guard -- and he wasn't even a pony. But, despite being almost completely focused on his own affairs, he was still a surprisingly considerate employer. It would even be fair to call him charming. Who else would send flowers and an apology to a guard after an argument that she started? Or ask his retainers to do anything more than just stand around and look tough, or maybe intimidate some plebs on his behalf?

"Hey, so uh, heh, maybe this is a long shot, but..."

Ebonshield sure picked a talkative colt. Didn't she say she liked it when they were noisy, though? Last week during that drink-and-meet?

It was all a bit hazy.

With a dung-eating grin on his face, the novice wizard waggled his hooves out in front of him. "...Do any of you mares also play Hyperspace Hyperwars?"

Before Honour could reflect on what that implied about Eb's activities at the frat party last night, Glamerspear burst up in her seat. "Oh for Celestia's sake! NO, we don't play Hyperspace Hyperwars, or Ogres & Oubliettes, or Dragons & Dragons, or Friendship: The Conclave, or any of that nerdy crap!"

Gritting her teeth and sitting up high, she loomed maniacally over the shocked young colt. "You aren't mister magic-hooves with the mares, you're not our friend, you're not even supposed to be eating here in the servants' mess! You're just our sergeant's latest stud. And we don't wanna hear about it, okay?! So just lay off!" After that rant, she took a deep breath, and her snoot seemed to finally unscrunch itself a little bit.

Honour lifted an eyebrow and leaned over. "You know, for someone who's not into 'nerdy crap', Glamerspear, you sure seem to know the terminology pretty well."

The specialist shot her an incensed glare. "I have three brothers. And they were all into that stuff when I was growing up." Shaking her head, she rolled her eyes up and stared at the ceiling. "You would not be-lieeeve how often I got told to 'play nice' with them and join in whatever flavor-of-the-week nonsense game they were into."

Eb's colt-toy proceeded to say precisely the worst thing he could possibly say at that moment.

"So you have played Hyperspace Hyperwars? We actually run regular campaign sessions on Friday nights, and we have some free tables that could use a few more players, if you're interested..."

Honour swore she could see smoke starting to come out of Glamerspear's ears.

‘Forget awkward, this is hilarious.’

"...If you don't have an army, I know Chad -- Chad Thunderhorn, he's graduating this year -- is looking to sell some of his collection. I think he's got-"

"SHUT UP, DWEEB!"

Cringing, the pink unicorn threw her hooves up to her head. "... Just, stop talking already! Celestia, I've got a bad enough headache as it is from last night without you upgrading it to a migraine with your crap."

‘A headache from last night?’

Glamerspear’s room wasn't adjacent to Sergeant Ebonshield's, so she shouldn't have been too bothered. Besides, if she really wanted to shut out the noise she probably knew a spell to shut out sound. It was one of those common utility spells every unicorn seemed to pick up for when they needed a moment of peace, or some time to commiserate in private.

Honour couldn’t help herself but ask. "What happened last night?"

Glamerspear scoffed. "Guh! What happened was me wracking my brains to try to figure out how that Ignacio guy pulled off his trick back in the you-know-where. You saw me with that 'De Magia Unicornis' book out, didn't you? I was up reading that thing until after midnight."

'Oh, so that's what this is all about.'

She was probably not actually all that frustrated about Sergeant Ebonshield getting laid or having the sarge's leftovers hanging around past their welcome. Just like when she’d tried to power through the manaburn, it wasn’t the personal, but the professional problem that was driving her up the wall.

Releasing her head, Glamerspear gestured in frustration with her forehooves. "It's infuriating! I've almost finished reading that thing from cover to cover, but I'm still coming up empty on how he managed that sorcery. Gah!"

Honour didn’t really know what to say; sure, she knew a bit about unicorn magic, but not enough to have any kind of real discussion on spells. What the batpony 'Balladeer of Ghosts' had done was unlike anything the Royal Guard's unicorns performed, at least as far as she knew.

The other horny-pony at the table, apparently still not quite getting Specialist Glamerspear's unsubtle 'hint' to keep quiet, piped up. "Uh, what -- what was this sorcery?"

Honour had to give the colt credit -- he was tenacious. Probably explained why he was able to overlook "Miss Purity's" bat-wings, foreign accent, and alien grasp of Equestrian culture. Then again, despite her age, she was a good-looking mare, and probably a pretty aggressive pick-up artist, too.

Glamerspear scrunched up her face, her horn glowing, and seemingly half ready to blast Eb's colt-toy out of his chair. "Grrr..."

Suddenly, her horn-light winked off, yet somehow it felt like things had just gotten more dangerous.

"OKAY, college colt, you wanna hear the details? Try this brain teaser on for size:"

She tried to put on a mean smirk through her angry-face, which only resulted in a really strange-looking grimace. Wearing it all the same, she laid everything out for the colt who didn't know when to quit.

"... A blind sorcerer stands in front of a big sandpit in an arena. A creature, of a type and example that he's never encountered before, walks into the room, and within just a minute or two, the blind sorcerer magically sculpts a pile of sand to not just look like the creature, but to move gracefully just like they would. All without touching or speaking or interacting or even getting closer than a hundred hooves to the subject. How'd he do it?"

The young Schola student tilted his head sideways, frowning. "Is the sand-pit magical in any way?"

Glamerspear shook her head. Somehow, restating the problem out loud for another mind seemed to have brought down her temper a bit.

"No -- not as far as I could tell, anyways, and I'm pretty good at aura-sensing." Grinning, she wiggled her eyebrows. "...Oh, and not only has the blind-sorcerer never encountered the creature before, but the creature is just standing there the whole time -- the sorcerer makes his sand-pile move in ways that the creature could, but hasn't, know what I mean?"

Tapping a hoof against his chin, the colt nodded. "Yeah, yeah, I get it... This really happened?"

Glamerspear almost managed a smile as she pointed at Bound and Sparkshower. "Uh-huh. They were there, and so was 'Miss Purity,' too. So what's your answer, mister college colt?"

After a few more moments of hemming and hawing, the young wizard let out a sigh. "I... I dunno. Building a golem that looks like a subject usually takes a lot of time and preparation, and requires the mage to examine the subject to be copied. To make it actually behave like a subject requires that the mage collect a piece of them, too -- usually a bit of hair or fur."

Shrugging his shoulders, he shook his head. "... I dunno, maybe there's some way even a blind mage could use magic to shape a copy of something. But when you say the golem 'moved' like the creature, what do you mean? Did it talk like the subject?"

"No, it just howled and groaned. It was combat training -- 'Miss Purity' duelled with the sand-thing, and it moved and fought like the real one could have."

The colt narrowed his eyes. "'Could have,' hmm... Almost sounds like Method Magic."

‘Like what now?’

Even Glamerspear seemed confused. "What magic?"

"Method Magic; they teach it in first year. It's the idea that magical spells should work 'as if' they were the real thing." Smiling, he continued. "You know, like how a magical fireworks spell behaves as if it was real fireworks going off."

Honour’s unicorn squadmate scowled. "Well, duh, it's a magical fireworks spell."

The colt shook his head. "Yeah, but it's more complicated than that. Look, I'm not really -- I did okay in that class, but I'm maybe not the best pony to explain it. In Constantine Gloriousson's 'The Method,' a mage uses their own life experience to create spells. The goal is to recall real things similar to what they desire to create, and then mentally import that reality to craft the finished spell." Raising an eyebrow, he laid one hoof on the table. "So, even though your blind mage had never met this creature before, maybe they had encountered -- or just been described -- something similar enough to base the sand-copy on?"

Glamerspear thought for a second, then dismissed him with a dry tone. "Except that the mage is blind. He didn't even really realize the creature was in the room -- we all entered as a group along with it -- and later, when the mage met the creature afterwards, he was surprised to realize its actual height."

‘There goes that theory, then,’ Honour supposed.

"Oh, hmm... Uh... Maybe he used Ray Casting, then? Though I'm not sure how..."

Glamerspear didn’t look optimistic. "This another first-year-university abstract magical theorem? The sand-sculpting mage wasn't fresh out of the Schola, ya know."

Before she could shut him off, he protested. "No, no! This is really interesting stuff! You haven't heard of Ray Casting? It's really cool!"

She scoffed back at him. "What, like an elementalist's Scorching Ray? Kid, I'm in the Royal Guard. I might be a conjurer who never attended mage school, but I know how the Schools of Magic work -- and I've seen plenty of Scorching Rays get let off; even tried it once or twice myself."

That got a chuckle out of the colt. "No, it's not like that at all. Maybe it's not the best name, but Ray Casting, as described by Bearapple, is the idea that we can't observe anything directly; we can only observe stuff by bouncing something off of it." He tapped his hoof on the dining table. "Like, when we look at this, we're not directly observing the wooden table, because the table isn't actually doing anything itself. His proposal was that we are really just seeing the sunlight coming in from the window and bouncing off of it."

‘That's an interesting concept.’

Intrigued, Honour interjected. "Like an echo?"

Leaning over to look past Glamerspear at the corporal, the colt smiled even more. "Just like an echo! But with light in this case, instead of sound. Anyways, the idea is that if you want to make someone believe there's a table in front of them, you don't have to actually make a table, you just have to make something that reflects light, echoes sound, and pushes back against pressure like a table would."

Glamerspear rolled her eyes. "You're just using fancy words to describe what an illusionist does anytime they cast a spell. How'd the blind mage know how the creature 'reflected' light, if the mage couldn't see?"

‘And there goes the young wizard's smile.’

"Oh, right..."

It seemed that Glamerspear's puzzle probably wouldn’t be solved by a first-year Schola student with just a bunch of introductory classes under his saddle. Honour couldn’t really fault his trying, though. Most ponies in the Royal Guard came out of 'shoe camp thinking they knew everything and that they could fix anything if they put their mind to it, too. Herself included.

Scritching awkwardly at his crest, the colt shook his head. "... I guess... none of the things I can think of really work if he's blind. But, I mean, if he's blind, and didn't use magic to overcome that blindness, then maybe he got help from somepony... or some-thing, like a spirit... that could see the creature?"

In a final blow, Glamerspear shook her head again. "That still doesn't explain how he made the sand move without seeing the creature move."

The colt looked defeated. "I... yeah. Even the spirit animating a golem needs a link to the original creature to make it act like the original. I guess I'm stumped, too. Sorry."

Glamerspear chuckled amiably.

Honour wondered if she didn't really just need somepony to talk to about this -- even if it was somepony who maybe knew even less than she did.

"Aw, don't whip yourself over it, kiddo. An old mage like that one has got a ton of tricks up his robes, ya know. You'll start picking up some tricks yourself, too, when you graduate." Taking a deep breath, she leaned back in her chair. "Anyways, I need to get my mind off of that problem for a bit. Corporal, you all ready to go dress shopping? Stores'll be opening in an hour or two. Didya want to get your mane done up or anything first?"

‘Excuse me?’

"Something wrong with my hair, now?"

Smirking slyly, Glamerspear squeezed her shoulders together. "Well, not wrong, just, a braid is kinda plain. You've got all that mane, but you just keep it bundled up all the time. Don't you want to do something more extravagant for the big party? And if you do, then we should get a sampler done of it now so it'll be easier to pick a dress that goes with it."

Honour shook her head. "Just the dress and some makeup will do fine. I'm not looking to win a pageant."

The specialist just waggled her eyebrows. "Not with that attitude. I keep telling ya, Honour, a little effort'll go a long way. Look at Sparkshower, over there, she's gonna have her mane done up special and Canterlot-like even though her coltfriend's from country-town Berry."

The pegasus in question leaned forward to look down the table with a smile on her face. "Oh, no, Huckleberry Pudding won't be coming to the Gala after all."

‘What!?’

It was genuinely disturbing that Sparkshower seemed pleased to say that, after how upset she was about him not replying before. ‘What's going on?’

Glamerspear frowned and turned around. "Whaddya mean ‘he's not coming’? You invited him, didn't you? Did that lame-o turn down a ticket to the Gala?"

Still smiling, Sparkshower shook her head. "He didn't turn it down, no -- but I knew he would, so I told him he didn't have to worry about trying to figure out how to tell me 'no,' and that I understood. That was what I mailed to him this morning!"

‘Awfully generous of her.’

Glamerspear scoffed. "Whaaa? But what about wanting to dance around the Grand Galloping Gala's Great Maypole, and stuff like that? You're just gonna let this chance slip you by, because your colt won't make the trip up to Canterlot?"

Sparkshower shook her head again, still smiling. "Of course not! I knew he wouldn't come, but I still wanted to do those things, so I asked somepony else!"

‘Uh-oh.’

Honour had a bad feeling about this.

Beaming broadly and bouncing happily in her seat, Sparkshower dropped the bomb. "I asked the Royal Engineer if he would like to dance the Maypole with me, and he agreed!"

Glamerspear's chin hit the table just as Honour slowly brought a hoof up to her forehead.

"Isn't he a generous gentlecolt?"

Of course. After an awkward evening and an awkward night and an awkward breakfast, why not finish it off with an awkward social catastrophe.

Glamerspear was so shocked that she actually went quiet. And Sparkshower was so completely unaware of what she'd done that she didn’t even recognize the sudden silence as a possible clue that maybe she'd made a mistake.

‘Looks like it's up to me.’

Rubbing her forehead, Honour started to check the facts. "Artemis. You asked the Royal Engineer to dance the Maypole with you, and when he accepted, wrote a letter telling your long-distance coltfriend that he didn't need to come because you found another dance-partner?"

She received an eager nod in response. "Yup! Everything's so much simpler this way, isn't it?"

‘No, you foalish young mare, everything's just become much more complicated.’

‘Especially since it's too late to stop the seven-thirty mail from going out.’

"You do realize that the Maypole is normally danced by lovers, Sparkshower?"

The faintest hint of concern appeared on her face. "Yes, but... you said the Royal Engineer wasn't interested in that! And he didn't make a big deal out of it, either."

Honour looked Sparkshower right in the eyes. "Did you tell him it's normally a dance for young couples?"

Her smile disappeared, and she licked her lips. "Not... exactly. I told him it was a traditional Equestrian spring tradition. He was worried he would mess up the dance steps, but I told him that it was very easy and that they always began the dance slowly with instructions for first-time participants!"

She knew she bent the rules a bit, but she still didn’t see the real problem.

"And did you tell your coltfriend you were going to be dancing the Maypole with your VIP?"

Sure enough, she nodded. "Yeah, of course!"

Honour really didn’t know what to do in the face of Artemis’ incredible innocence.

Glamerspear picked up the slack.

"SPARKS! You just sent a letter to your coltfriend telling him that you don't need him to come to Canterlot for the Gala, because you have a new lover now!"

The pegasus' brow dropped, and she looked puzzled. "I... no, I didn't write it like that, and Huckleberry won't think that -- I made it clear that Anonymous was a gentlecolt and--"

Glamerspear stood on her hind hooves and leaned over across Ebonshield's colt-toy to get up in Sparkshower's muzzle. "EVEN WORSE! Not only is he richer than your Huckleberry, more important than your Huckleberry, more available than your Huckleberry, he's also more considerate than your Huckleberry! Sparks, you just dumped your coltfriend by mail!"

Honour saw tears start form at the corner of Sparkshower's eyes.

"But... but..."

Glamerspear relented when she saw the pegasus start to turn, but, unfortunately, Honour couldn't leave it at that. There was an even bigger problem she wasn’t seeing.

"Sparkshower, the Royal Engineer may not be well-known yet, but he's still a member of the Blue Chamber Privy Council, and the Grand Galloping Gala is heavily covered by the press. If he innocently gets you a ticket to the opera as a partner instead of making you stand in the hallway as a guard on a cheap Thursday night revival, nopony will really notice. If he gets you a ticket to attend the Gala, that's not really a big deal either since everypony will just think him eccentric or generous for having invited all of his guards."

The pegasus’ teary eyes went wide when Honour plunged the dagger in. "But if you dance the Maypole with him, at the Gala, in full view of everypony else, then ponies will assume you're a committed couple."

Sparkshower's jaw started to quiver, and Honour was forced to twist the knife. There could be no half-measures with something this serious.

"And what's worse: he won't even realize it, because you knowingly concealed the truth from him."

The waterworks started on schedule.

"BUHHAHWAAAAAAAAAaaaa! No-n-n-nooooo-I-I-I-Ididntmeaaannnitlikethat. I jus- I jus- I jus thought that- that- that- this wuh-wuh-waaayyy my Huckleberry wouldn-wouldn't have to- to-Oh, my Huckleberry! Buhwaaaaaa!"

Brusquely shoving Ebonshield's hapless colt-toy out of the way so hard that his chair fell backwards onto the floor, Glamerspear clambered over in a rush to comfort her pegasus comrade. The pink unicorn gently patted Sparkshower's crest as she sobbed away.

".... I muh-muh-muh-miss hiim sooooo much an-an-an I jus- I jus- I jus- wanna make him haaaaaapppyyyyyy-wuhuhuhahaaaa..."

Honour would have gone over and comforted the distraught pegasus too, but she was too stunned by Sergeant Ebonshield’s sudden return to the dining room.

‘The Tartarus?’

‘It's a quarter after eight! She's supposed to be on duty right now.’

"Sarge? What are you doing here? Is something wrong?"

Surveying the scene of carnage before her -- an overturned dining chair, a young wizard colt sprawled on the ground not understanding what was going on, and Sparkshower bawling against Glamerspear's tuft -- Ebonshield was momentarily at a loss for words.

"I... ah. I have just come from the office of the Engineer Royal..."

Everypony looked up at her -- even Sparkshower managed to hold back her tears for a moment.

"...He said he was actually hoping that the Specialist Glamerspear would be on shift this morning, as he would greatly value her advice in the selection of a fashionable calling-card design. And he hoped that the Corporal Bound would accompany him and provide advice as well."

That wasn’t actually very surprising. Glamerspear, having already served as the Royal Engineer's fashion consultant, should probably have considered that Anonymous' number-one priority would be the situation with Major-General Hoofstrong before swapping shifts with Ebonshield. And Honour had been serving as the Royal Engineer's etiquette coach, too.

Still unsure of what exactly had just happened, the sergeant continued. "I informed him that you two were planning to make purchases for the Gala today, and he was most appreciative of the need to properly outfit the Corporal Bound. But he wondered if he might accompany you so that the trips might be combined, provided you would not find it intrusive." Lifting her eyebrows, Ebonshield looked at Honour. "This is what I have returned to inquire."

‘Well.’

‘It seems 'awkward' isn’t quite done with me yet.’

Suggested interlude music: Ariana Grande - 'Problem' [2014]
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iS1g8G_njx8

Chapter 86

Purity Ebonshield

Estelar Siete Pureza Ébanoscudo was not quite sure what had just happened. Her current lover, a young unicorn colt from the Schola Magia of Canterlot, had been knocked out of his chair and was only starting to recover. The Specialist Artemisa Sparkshower had been raining tears against the tuft of the Specialist Lirio Glamerspear. And the Corporal Honouria Bound looked somewhat displeased at the Engineer Royal's suggestion of combining the shopping voyages.

That last one, at least, was perhaps understandable.

Honour turned to exchange silent glances with Glamerspear, so Ebonshield attended to her poor, bowled-over colt. "Are you alright, Gilberto? Do you need help?"

Sitting up, he brushed off his grey cloak. "No thank you, Miss Purity. I'm all right."

Such a polite young colt. She’d done well to pick this example out of the crowd at 'Earthquake.' But now was really not the time to be thinking of play -- it was time to work.

"Chico, have you finished your breakfast? Perhaps this would be best if you left us mares to our business now, yes? You can find your way in the palace, I think?"

He nodded with a broad smile. "Sure thing, Miss Purity... I'll see you around later?"

She smiled back. "Of course, Gilberto Corazón-de-León. I am not finished with you quite yet..." Oh, indeed. There was much still that this young colt must be taught. And these are things which the 'Schola Magia' will surely not have in their curriculum. "... I will be in touch."

With his head in the stars, he trotted out of the breakfast hall of the servants, and Ebonshield watched him go. He did not have quite the fittest of plots, but he was clever and he did not lack for enthusiasm. Good material for the molding into a fabulous colt. Fortunate and overjoyed indeed will be the mare who eventually takes that hoof after his time under her tutelage.

As she turned around again to face the quaternion, Ebonshield found Glamerspear shaking her head at her. "You have him call you 'Miss Purity'? Seriously?"

What names Ebonshield and her pet gave each other was really not worth talking about at this moment, so she merely batted her eyelids and smiled. Glamerspear rolled her eyes in response.

Artemisa, at least, had stopped crying and had released herself from her comrade's grasp, whereupon the unicorn turned towards Honoria, waving her forehoof. “Anyways, it's your call, Corporal. You'll be the one trying stuff on for an audience."

Honour shook her head, sighing. "What choice do I have? If the Royal Engineer wants to come along, then he comes along."

This answer did not please the unicorn. "Whaddya mean, 'what choice do I have'? You and I aren't on duty -- we're just backup, in case he needs the full squad to represent. It won't take long, either -- we can reply that we'll go calling-card-shopping with him in the afternoon."

Honour sighed again. "It doesn't work that way, Glamerspear. When you're in the VIP service, what your VIP wants from you, they get."

There was a certain tone to her voice which suggested to Ebonshield that Equestria of today had not entirely abandoned the hospitality ways of the times ancient. However, Glamerspear was taken aback by the suggestion.

"Oh, come ON, Corporal! We're his bodyguards, not his friends or his slaves."

It seemed to Ebonshield that they had been much more than mere bodyguards to the Engineer Royal. Perhaps acknowledging this, Lily shrugged and softened her expression.

"I mean, don't get me wrong, I like our VIP -- I like him a lot. He's the reason this job has been way more interesting than the snooze-fest I thought it would be! And I know he's the whole reason we're going out shopping, too, 'cause without him we wouldn't have Gala tickets at all! But that doesn't mean we have to let him stroll right into our private lives if we don't want to."

The sergeant decided that her present employer needed to have his intentions reiterated. "Corporal, the Engineer Royal will certainly understand if you decline. He was very humble in that he did not wish to be an 'inconvenience.’"

Strangely, her attempt to give Honour an easier time for saying 'no' seemed only to make her more upset. "It's not like that, Sergeant. Just by having asked for this service, we're not technically allowed to honorably refuse him..." She shook her head again, more rapidly this time, and lightly banged a forehoof on the table. "... Damn it! This is like when he had the movers in without any of us around. He just doesn't get how Equestrian society works."

Sniffling back her final tears, the pegasus Sparkshower raised her head. "Isn't that why he needs us in the first place?"

Glamerspear shrugged, but Corporal Bound fixed their young comrade in her gaze. "Sparkshower. You need to come up with a proper way to apologize and explain the Maypole situation to Anonymous." The Corporal got out of her seat and stood on her four hooves, admonishing the Specialist. "Deceiving like that could get you thrown out of the VIP corps, and knocked down to Private on the way out, for Celestia's sake -- so you'd better get things cleared up before Temper Vi hears about it. That means this evening, during your next shift. I don't know what you were thinking."

Full of remorse, the pegasus sniffled again. "I- I guess I wasn't."

‘Curious.’

What exactly had she done? Lied to Anonymous? Or, perhaps, failed to tell him something?

And what is this Maypole?

Questions for later.

Honour sighed again. "If Anonymous wants to come along while I buy a dress, then he may as well. It'll save us all some travel time, at least."

The corporal turned towards Ebonshield. "Sergeant, you're relieved. Take Sparkshower back to our quarters, will you? Glamerspear and I will take this shift with the Royal Engineer."

She did not seem pleased with her decision.

"Corporal, I do not understand -- you say with one face that you cannot refuse Anonymous despite his own wishes because of certain rules, and yet with the other you have admonished me for making certain proposals of service to him which you called archaic. What is the matter?"

She took a deep breath. "It's simple and complicated at the same time..."

Stepping close so that she didn’t have to speak up, she continued as she beckoned them all to gather together. Even Sparkshower and Glamerspear were paying attention.

"... You propositioned Anonymous, which, like I said before, is something that's not done in the Royal Guard VIP corps any more -- it hasn't been done in I don't know how long."

She swallowed. "But, technically, the way the rules are written in the supplementary contract that we all signed when we took this posting, if a VIP wanted that kind of 'service' -- or anything else -- we're obligated to give it to them."

Specialist Glamerspear interjected immediately. "That's mino-shit, Honour. You know damn well nopony would get punished for refusing sex to a VIP."

A curious attitude from one who deliberately desired to be the mistress of the rich and powerful. Exactly the kind of Equestrians who are entitled to such a service as they were presently engaged.

The unicorn chuckled before continuing. "... Not that I'd probably refuse, heh... And it's not like there'd be any real consequences if one of 'em tried to pressure a guard into it, either. But while Lieutenant Vi may be 'by the book,' she's not that by the book. She knows the difference between rules that can and can't actually be enforced."

Lifting her eyebrows, Lily laughed awkwardly. "You can't seriously be afraid of getting ninja-punched -- or even court-martialed! -- for turning down sex."

Honour was collected with her reply. "Of course not. But what about something more innocent -- something like this?"

Glamerspear continued to be dismissive. "Maybe if he reported it -- maybe. But he's the one asking politely if we wouldn't mind letting him tag along! Why would he complain to the L-T if you say no?"

Even though this was not how things were among the Children, what the specialist said did make sense to Ebonshield. She was not intimately familiar with the laws of Equestria, but clearly there was a divide considerable between what was inked on paper and what was true. A paper with words is only as binding as the wills of those who wish to enforce this as truth -- and when those wills no longer care for them, they are as good as stricken. Why, then, did the Corporal insist on following only what was written?

Their unicorn comrade shrugged her shoulders and waved her forehooves comically around her head. "What, d'you think he's gonna suddenly turn heel like some kind of pantomime villain? Slap on a big novelty mustache so he can twirl it with his hooves -- his hands, I mean?"

This was clear from how she looked away, deflated, that Honour had no strong answer to this. "Maybe not, but he's not the only one watching."

‘Hmm…’

To Ebonshield, the Corporal Bound seemed afraid of the shadows; a common fear among young Children of the Stars -- and even many adults. Except that perhaps for her, the shadows did not attend in the dark tunnels beneath the surface, but rather within the hearts of those around her. Yes, the pieces were beginning to fall together for the batpony, now. For such a pony, there is no convincing with words; experiences alone will allow them to trust again. The sergeant decided to take a chance and force the issue while the others were too baffled by Honour’s response to say anything.

"It seems to me that what the Corporal Bound says has merit. Specialist Glamerspear, you and the Corporal must without delay attend to the Engineer Royal so that a dress and calling-card both of excellent quality can be procured today." Turning towards Specialist Sparkshower, she extended a wing-tip to point. "I will escort the Specialist Sparkshower back to our quarters and see that she prepares also an excellent apologia for her misdeeds. Mother willing, we may be forgiven the delay imposed by this discussion most frivolous."

Ebonshield received very strange looks from her three comrades, but she maintained her composure, and eventually they all nodded and agreed to do as she said. Though clearly for the Specialist Glamerspear, there were several things the sergeant had forced her to leave unsaid. Despite this, she left with her Corporal in tow.

Which left only Sergeant Ebonshield and the Specialist Sparkshower.

The batpony stepped up beside the young pegasus and extended a wing over her back as she led her out of the dining hall after her other comrades. "Now, then, Artemisa. What is this matter so serious which requires an apology to the Engineer Royal?"

She swallowed, following along. "I asked him to dance the Maypole with me, because I was afraid my Puddin' wasn't going to come to the Gala... and I didn't tell Anonymous that it's a dance for young ponies in love."

‘Ah!’

‘This seems a day for the mending of hearts.’

For the Specialist Sparkshower, perhaps something more immediate may be done. For the Corporal Bound, Ebonshield thought, this would require more skillful work.

‘May the Mother of Stars bless my endeavours!’

Artemis Sparkshower

‘Thundershowers, hailstorms, hurricanes, and tornadoes!’

Somehow, none of the profanities of the civilian Airborne Weather and Climate Service Artemis Sparkshower commonly relied on could match the enormity of what she’d done. And what a stain on her old unit's honor, too! Equestria's illustrious First Pegasus Division: 'No Mission Too Difficult, No Sacrifice Too Great. Duty First'. She certainly hadn't put duty first last night. And what about her particular group, the Fourth Armored Regiment?

'Prepared and Loyal.'

‘Loyalty! To my own selfish desires, maybe! Oh, blizzards!’

‘How am I going to make this right?’

‘Can I even make this right?’

The grand corridors of Canterlot Palace seemed to close in on Artemis, like physical manifestations of her guilt. Lavender-and-gold wainscoted walls, usually reassuring and mystical, now felt cold and stern. Red-carpeted marble floors, opulent and serene, now carried whispers against her. And the vaulted ceilings loomed overhead like her guilty conscience.

Sergeant Ebonshield's leathery bat-wing, draped reassuringly over Artemis’ withers as she led the pegasus along, did help a bit. It let her know that the batpony wasn’t just going to leave her out to soak in the torrential downpour she’d caused. But the setup must look a bit silly to anyone who watched them go by, with the batpony being an inch shorter than Artemis in the shoulders, and considerably more slenderly-built.

Then again, isn't that how she looked when she was comforting her big, strong, Huckleberry Pudding, extending her own wing to cover his grassy-green back and blue overalls as she helped him deal with another one of life's problems? His pumpkin-orange mane bobbing against Artemis’ cream feathers as he brought his head up high with her support? His legs finding solid hoofing and a steady stride in even the thickest mud? His powerful croup bobbing up and down with -- ‘Oh, my.’

‘You're not supposed to be thinking about your Puddin' right now, Artemis!’

‘You're supposed to be thinking of what you've done to your VIP!’

Taking a breath, Artemis opened her eyes wide and tried to turn her thoughts away from how empty her bed had felt without her big, green cuddle-Huckle in it.

"It has been some time since you have been with your lover, has it not?"

‘Sleet-storms, was Lily right about batponies after all!?’

‘Can they actually read minds?’

Or... perhaps Artemis’ feelings for her absentee coltfriend were simply that obvious. She glumly nodded her head, and felt the sergeant readjust her wing to wrap them even more around her.

"Oh, mi pobre Artemisita, how you have suffered." Rubbing her cheek against Artemis’ neck, she led the lonely specialist up the final staircase to their quarters. "Come now, let us make correct the pieces which have fallen apart at your hooves."

Artemis lifted her eyebrows and looked over at Eb. "Do you really think the Royal Engineer will accept an apology?"

She smiled and patted Artemis’ flank with her wing-tip. "Of course, jaca! So long as you give the apology sincerely and with contrition, he will accept -- of this, I have no doubt."
Reaching the hallway door to their shared quarters, Eb depressed the handle and pushed it open with one forehoof. "This problem is not the one which troubles me, Artemisa, but the source of your mistake, instead." Still leading her with a wing over her back, Ebonshield flapped its free counterpart and in a single swift motion swept the door shut again. "Come now and sit on the sofa, yes? And tell to mamá Ébanoscudo the story of you and this colt."

‘Trowal!’

After Artemis was just kicking herself for thinking of Huckleberry instead of Anonymous, there was the sergeant dismissing the latter and insisting she concentrate on the former!

The Sergeant released Artemis from her wing just in front of the center cushion of the three-pony sofa, and waited with a gentle smile while the pegasus hesitantly took a seat. Ebonshield stepped over to the sideboard, filled a pair of cups from the water-jug, and set them on the coffee table before cozily curling up in the club chair herself. Still wearing the smile, she nodded and motioned for Artemis to begin.

The pegasus was still feeling too depressed and confused to know what to do.

"Uhm... Where... where should I start?"

The sergeant chuckled. "Why, at the beginning, of course! This 'Huckleberry Pudding,' he is your first and only lover, yes?"

The specialist nodded, her hooves in her lap and her shoulders rolled inwards.

"Y-yes..."

"And where did you meet this colt, then? Did he live always in your village?"

Nodding again, Artemis rubbed her hooves together awkwardly. "Uh-huh. We, uhm, attended classes together. In Miss Magnolia's one-room schoolhouse. He was two years older than me. He still is."

Eb rolled her eyes and nodded knowingly.

‘What does she read into that?’

"Ahh... And sometimes you played together also as children, yes?"

With a furrowed brow, Artemis nodded again. "Uh-huh."

Ebonshield licked her lips and paused before asking her next question. "And... when did you first see him as not just another child with which to play, hmm?"

‘Oh, rain-squalls…’

Sitting there and answering the sergeant's questions may wind up being more uncomfortable than sitting before Lieutenant Temper Violetta and explaining why she thought it appropriate to dance the Maypole with her VIP at the Grand Galloping Gala. But, at least here the Sergeant had her best interests at heart.

Artemis had to really think back to remember when she first saw Huckleberry as more than a school-room playmate. "Uhm... I think... I think it was the year after I had my last, uhm, 'growth spurt'..."

Swallowing, she tried to relax a bit.

It wasn’t easy.

"... Heh, momma said I turned from a little cumulus into a big cumulonimbus over the summer break." Artemis chuckled awkwardly. She really had said that. It was only a joke, but at the time, when Artemis was already one of the tallest ponies in the class, and by far the tallest pegasus, it made her feel like a real odd pony out.

"...I was kinda feeling awkward and big and a little bit strange, and I was getting teased by the other fillies who were my age but hadn't yet grown as I had, while the older mares thought I was too young & childish to play with them."

It was hard to remember that far back. Sucking in her lips, Artemis picked out the little strands that did come to mind, and gathered them together to form a coherent thread. "Huckleberry Pudding was the tallest & biggest earth pony in the class, and he was a bit picked on by the colts for it, too, and I guess I kinda... I kinda saw him as a sort of kindred spirit, you know? And I guess he did, too. We started sticking together more and more."

What happened after the school year, however, was more clear. "That summer, I barely left his flank. I did everything he did and went everywhere with him." Remembering a poignant moment at a late-summer festival, Artemis sighed. "It was for a whole sky full of reasons. I liked him, and he made me feel small again because he was even bigger, and he didn't mind me hanging around, and he was kind and gentle, and I liked helping him in the fields, and his family was nice, too, and I think I did it also just because it drove my mom and pop a bit crazy me wanting to be only with him and his kin for the whole season."

The second school-year together, however, was a step further. "...That fall, the second year, I learned how to let him go a bit, because I needed some time alone or in the sky to do my own things. But I still had him in my thoughts, even high up pushing the cirrus clouds around working on the weekends. And I think that's when I started to stick on him, too."

Artemis smiled as she remembered that year's Hearth's Warming. "He saved his bits and got me an awful big present for Hearth's Warming Day -- a camera, a 'Little Ludwig' number 2, model D..." Clasping her hooves together up in the air, she gushed a bit. "... Thirty-five millimeter film, integrated viewfinder and rangefinder, screw-thread interchangeable lenses, with thirty-five and one-hundred-and-five millimeter ones in the box. Oh, I must've taken a thousand photos a month with it, and I spent every last bit I had on film and development supplies."

He'd thoughtfully -- and bravely! -- asked her dad for a gift suggestion in September, she’d learned later. Knowing that Huck wasn't from a wealthy family (not that Artemis’ was particularly rich, either), her dad had made several cheaper suggestions. But her stubborn Puddin' had managed to scrape enough bits to get the latest model, with all the important accessories. There was a photograph of her and Huckleberry on his graduation day in her room. Artemis’ father took it, using her camera, after she’d taught him how. She developed the film and printed the photo herself. Huckleberry had a print of it as well, in a frame she bought for him.

That wasn't all that happened that year, though.

Still feeling the same exhilarated rush she felt when she first got her hooves on that camera, Artemis tried to relax a bit.

"... And that summer... After he'd graduated..."

She gulped.

"... On a hot, muggy July evening... after he'd been working the whole day cutting and bailing hay in the fields... and I'd been up in the sky pushing around clouds for bits and taking aerial photographs for fun..." Licking her lips, Artemis took another breath. "I saw him relaxing in the shade behind the barn, and swooped down to say hello."

It was getting a little difficult to stay focused. "... And... uhm... He was happy to see me, and I was happy to see him, and... uh..."

She stretched out her hind legs and swallowed again, breathing heavily. "... Uh... and..."

‘Jeepers, it's hot in here for May.’

Extending her wings, Artemis fanned herself a bit.

‘Ought to crack open the windows in the bedrooms and bathroom.’

"... aaaand... Uhm, he, uh, he-he leaned in close, and he, uhm, he kissed me, and uh, I kissed back, and I hugged him... and he hugged back... and... and..."

Somehow, just thinking about that hot, steamy, sweaty day had caused the weather to manifest there in the common room. And Artemis was feeling just as awkward and aroused as she did on that day four years ago.

"... And... And then... we took each others' virginity... With maybe a few, uhm... 'technical difficulties' along the way."

‘Whew.’

Artemis felt like a red-sun evening after an afternoon rainstorm. Worn out and kind of clammy. Sergeant Ebonshield had been sitting in the club chair the whole time, listening calmly, while the pegasus told the story of her first opposite-sex best-friend who turned into her crush who turned into her coltfriend who turned into her lover.

Feeling a bit spent from the ordeal, Artemis looked over and wondered what she was going to make of it all. "... Does that... answer your question, Sergeant?"

She nodded. "Oh, yes. It has given me a picture most clear of how your relationship began. And the next summer after this, when you yourself left school -- this is when you joined the Guardia Real?"

Artemis nodded. "Yes... I'd already been working part-time as a weather-pony in the AWACS, but I'd decided I wanted to do something more exciting. My dad had served a tour of duty in the Guard, and looked back on it fondly, so he supported me enlisting."

Looking away, the pegasus remembered some of the details of that process. A lot of evenings were spent poring over fliers, glossy brochures, testimonials, and contracts. There were a lot of stories told of glory days in the Royal Guard. And a lot of mom crying tears of worry and a little bit of dad crying tears of pride, too.

"I enlisted to become an armored scout because I was interested in it, and because there was a big bonus for pegasi -- they usually can't handle all the armor. But I had played offensive tackle in regional hoofball, the only pegasus on the fillies' team, and I won second place in the Hark County Aerial marathon the year I graduated and first place the year before, so I wasn't worried about bearing the weight or having to fly long distances."

Taking a deep breath, Artemis found herself able to relax again. Focusing on the job instead of her relationship problems did that to her. "And the Fourth Armored Regiment has its headquarters just outside Cloudsdale, which is so close to Berry that I could fly home every weekend in just a couple of hours, if I hurried and if the wind was favorable. And I did get home every weekend, to see my family and my Huckleberry, whenever we weren't out on campaign."

Ebonshield bent over out of her comfy curled-up position to pick up her cup of water, and took a sip. That made Artemis’ throat feel pretty dry, too, so she did the same. After a good long drink, she felt like she could finally relax a bit, so she slouched down a bit on the sofa, tucking her hind legs up behind her. For servants' quarters furniture, it was pretty comfy.

"What made you wish to join the VIP service instead of remaining in the 'First Pegasus,' which are so much closer to your home?"

That was an easy one to answer, at least.

"The Fourth Armored Regiment HQ is just outside Cloudsdale, but it's still in the clouds, which means that it's not very accommodating for Earth Ponies. If we were married..."

It hurt a bit to say that word, wondering if it would ever happen.

"... then we'd have access to a small on-base house, but there wouldn't be a lot of work for him there. He'd have to get a lift to Cloudsdale or back down to the ground for his job. And there aren't a lot of opportunities for laborer earth ponies in Cloudsdale that aren't hazardous or back-breaking. Even just being an earth pony in the city can be dangerous; the clouds aren't always solid underhoof."

She was pretty sure Huckleberry Pudding was afraid of heights, too, but at least his objections to avoiding Cloudsdale she could understand -- it was his avoidance of the pegasus’ second choice that really confused and upset her.

"Canterlot is a lot easier. After serving the required time in my original regiment, I thought that taking a posting here would let us live together for whole weeks at a time, instead of just visiting on the weekends. And although it's a bit further, it's only a temporary posting. He was supposed to come and find a job and get comfortable with the city. Then I could try to transfer permanently to one of the regiments based here. There are armored units in Canterlot, so it wouldn't be too hard. But it hasn't worked out..." Artemis trailed off, not sure where to take the story next. This is where the trouble really started.

The weekends back in Berry when she was in the First PD may have been inconsistently scheduled, and their contents unplanned and spontaneous, but they worked. It wasn't ideal, but she was happy. He seemed happy, too. This time, Artemis had come up with a plan for each of them and a way to satisfy all of their needs, or so she’d thought: hers, to stay in the Guard, a job which she genuinely enjoyed, and to be with her Puddin' at the same time. His, to have meaningful work in a safe, terrestrial environment and, she thought, to be with his 'Sparks.' He'd agreed to the scheme, too -- or, at least, never expressed any doubts. Surely not every mare had the same trouble with their own colt?

The pegasus looked over at the batpony Sergeant First Class twice her age. "Did you ever have a problem like this with your... with one of your colts?"

Sighing, Ebonshield glanced away. "Ah... No. I do not think so. But then again, for such relationships, there are great differences between those on the Moon and here in Equestria." Shaking her head, she continued. "Among the Rocks and the Dust, love of this kind is common, and among the Shadows even as well, but for the Stars and the Lunars, thought to be the finest examples of our race, love is more a matter of breeding."

Ebonshield shrugged her eyebrows. "I have had many mates, and I have even loved a few of them, and sometimes been loved in return, despite the brevity of our encounters. But for the rest -- we were performing only our duty to our Houses and to the Children of the Stars as a whole. I have no regrets as to the results, but neither do I endorse the practice."

‘That sounds horrible!’

Being ordered to mate with somepony -- somepony she maybe hadn't even met, or even heard about, and wouldn’t ever see again! Was her reason for going out at night to find young colts half her age some kind of rebellion, then? The same as when she defied her mother -- twice? Or maybe she was just trying to have something she couldn't have before?

"Is that why you do what you do, now? Go to Canterlot clubs to find young colts? To try and have a real relationship?"

Ebonshield laughed at Artemis’ suggestion. "Ohoho, no, no... 'Real' relationships, I should think, are built on strong foundations and take many months to construct." With a sly smile, she lifted her hind hooves up into the chair and turned sideways, curling herself up into a sort of ball, with her wings wrapped around her. "I am not completely past the age of physical breeding, but I am past the age where my House may demand my service, and anyways I have already given them plenty already. So, I am free to partner with whom I please."

Bobbing her head sideways, she chuckled again. "And as for my selections, I think that because I am trying to be a teacher in the School of the Shining Stellar Dance, then I should also strive to be a teacher of all other subjects in which I am learned and proficient." Giggling, she rolls her shoulders and re-wrapped herself in her wings. "Which includes those arts practiced in the bedroom. And who better to teach than the very inexperienced, that they find success later in life?"

‘She's picking up young colts just to teach them how to please mares in bed?’

‘L-lewd…’

Straining to keep her wings in check, Artemis took another drink from her cup, then returned the empty vessel to the coffee table.

"So what do you think I should do? About my Puddin'?"

Emptying her own cup, Ebonshield unfurled herself and placed it down next to hers. "Ah, what I think, Artemisa..."

With a smile, she got up and trotted over before sitting down beside her, taking the pegasus’ forehooves in hers. "... What I think is that your love for this colt has endured for several years now, and it will survive a few weeks or months apart. Do not become discouraged. Do not give up. And do not panic. You are a soldier; you know that the greatest menaces on the battlefield are not the blades and the hooves of the enemy, but the fear and the panic within one's own ranks."

That was true. During the Battle of Newstirrup bridge, Artemis was more afraid of what 'Joker' might do to her, than what he was actually able to do. And in the end, when she overcame that fear, she defeated him.

Releasing the pegasus’ hooves, Ebonshield looked her in the eyes, her muzzle directly in front of Artemis’ in her batpony fashion. "Therefore, prepare an apology and an explanation for the Engineer Royal, which you shall deliver tonight. And prepare also a letter to your querido saying that you shall not dance the dance of lovers without him, and that you wish very much for him to come to Canterlot, but otherwise you shall see him when your posting is complete, though your heart aches to say this."

Lifting an eyebrow, she spread one wing open and away from Artemis. "You have tried to reason with him, yes? And I wonder if you also have tried to cajole him, perhaps gently?"

She nodded. Reasoning was where she’d started. Cajoling was where she’d sort of arrived.

Although Glamerspear's suggestion that she deliberately broke up with Huckleberry was completely false, Honour's pointing out that ponies might take Artemis and Anonymous for a couple hadn't completely escaped her mind when she’d sent the letter. A part of her -- a mean, cruel, vengeful, part of her -- had wanted Huckleberry to read it that way, and to react accordingly. That, more than anything else, had made her feel especially guilty about the whole affair.

Artemis’ head drooped down with regret, but Sergeant Ebonshield brought her outstretched wing around and placed its tip against her down-turned chin, lifting her snout back up. "...What I wish for you to do, Artemisa, is try a new approach with your lover. I wish for you to try not for his mind, or for his jealousy, but instead to seize his loins..."

‘Uh…’

"... I propose that in this letter, you must also inflame his passions, his desires, his lust for you. For he does lust after you, does he not? And you him?"

Hesitantly, Artemis nodded her head.

Ebonshield licked her lips and continued. "This is the emotional center which you must attack; there, his defenses will be weak, and his shield will break. You understand what I mean, yes?"

‘I think I do…’

"I think so..."

Ebonshield narrowed her eyes, sensing correctly that Artemis actually didn't. "Chica. You will write to your lover a letter so provocative and salacious, so steamy with suggestion that the mail-ponies will have to deliver her with pliers lest she give them 'the little death' by her merest touch. ¿Comprende?"

‘L-lewd…’

Artemis nodded her head, wondering what she was about to get into.

Ebonshield smiled broadly. "... And I will help you with this, of course! The pillow-talk, you see, she is a speciality particular of mine."

‘Oh, my…’

Suggested interlude music: Salma Hayek - 'Siente Mi Amor', as featured in 'Once Upon a Time in Mexico' [2003]
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-ezI0h1ewJA

Chapter 87

Lily Glamerspear

Finding a good dress for Corporal Bound was turning out to be harder than Specialist Lily Glamerspear had thought it would be. It wasn’t for lack of availability -- there was still plenty of stock in the stores they were visiting. And the prices weren’t bad, either. The Corporal hadn’t actually balked at any of the digits on the price tags so far. No, the problem was... she's so brown. Ponies usually wore colors that matched their mane or their coat, or at least their eyes. But Honour was just brown, brown, brown -- and nopony seemed to make brown dresses!

Or, at least, not nice ones. But even if Lily could find a brown dress, she was worried it'd just blend right in.

A number of perfectly good and reasonably priced dresses had been tried and rejected, and any of them would have worked for Glamerspear, or Sparkshower, or Ebonshield, or just about anypony else with an ordinary, brightly-colored coat (well, it was just a bright mane in Eb’s case, but at least she had some violet going on with her coat). But set against Honour's triple-brown combo, they just looked... 'noisy.' Like she was trying too hard to catch everypony's attention -- at least in Lily’s opinion.

It wasn’t even so much that the outfits looked bad, it's just that, well, it's the Gala. Outfits for the Grand Galloping Gala weren’t just some clothes to throw on; they should be a statement about who wore them -- and about their place in Canterlot. For example, take Lily’s little black cocktail dress from that year's Louis Valise summer catalogue, paid for by her wealthy benefactor, Captain Mailedhoof. It said, 'Here is a well-kept mare with exquisite taste in both gentlecolts and in fashion; you can't afford me, darling, but look all you please.' Lily’s Silver Ram, if she chose to wear it -- it was traditional to wear those kinds of honors to the Gala, but she wasn’t sure if it would really 'go' with her outfit -- also said a thing or two about her position in society, too.

Meanwhile, Sparkshower's satin-and-tulle, tea-length, boat-neck dress in blush-pink from last year's fashions said, 'I am a modest mare of modest means, simple in wants and graceful because of it; I'm more than my dress.' Artemis didn't know it yet -- because Lily hadn't quite finished altering it to fit her brawny frame -- but she was going to be a knock-out at the Gala.

Heh, if she wasn't careful, she'd have young gentlecolts swarming all over her. Maybe even more than would be flocking to Lily! After all, Captain Mailedhoof would be there with his wife; the unicorn’s role to play was as the little piece of candy, tempting him for an after-dinner snack.

Lily licked her lips as she waited for Honour to trot out in the next selection. Bored, she glanced over at the Royal Engineer, sitting quietly with one leg crossed over his knee. Though Lily still considered his presence an intrusion, at least he wasn't getting in the way.

Anonymous was just wearing his 'everyday' suit with his red sash of office, but the one he ordered for the Gala said a thing or two about him as well, even though it followed the traditional three-piece pattern: 'On the surface, I am much like any other colt, but look closer and you'll see that I'm not; I have a fine eye for detail, a sharp sense of style, and a healthy respect for tradition.' An excellent statement for a colt to make, particularly at an event like the Gala. Lily would help him pick out a suitable calling-card that would make a similar impression later today. Just as soon as she could get Honour into something the specialist liked...

And that Honour liked as well, of course.

Over on the right, a brown hoof pulled back the dressing-room curtain, and the corporal stepped out wearing the latest selection. It was a fairly simple number in gold satin, with a little bit of ruching at the back, a waistband, and then considerable ruching at the front to give it some texture and a nice dark/light sheen as she moved around. Honour stepped up onto the podium and looked herself over in the mirrors. She didn’t look thrilled. Not that she'd probably show it if she were, but to be honest, Lily wasn't particularly excited about it either. It worked, but, again, it didn’t quite seem special enough.

Lily decided to test the waters. "That's a good color on you, Corporal. How do you like the design?"

Twisting her head sideways, the earth pony examined her flank in the mirror, stepping and stretching her back legs. "I don't know... It fits all right, I suppose..."

‘Yeah, she doesn't like it.’

Then again, maybe she did -- Honour seemed to be having a little fun bobbing her backside to and fro, watching the material swish around. She continued to twist and turn, looking it over. Well, if she didn’t like it, at least she’d paid it more attention than any of the others so far. Or maybe she was just starting to have her anti-dressing-up defenses worn down, now.

Good thing Lily had saved some of the better stuff for later.

Frowning, the corporal looked back at the Royal Engineer, who so far had sat patiently through the whole series of dress-up & look-overs. "What do you think, sir?"

Surprised to be addressed after all this time, Anonymous lifted his eyebrows and uncrossed his legs. "Me? You want my opinion, Corporal?"

Honour replied with a shrug, wearing a neutral expression on her face.

‘Well, she might as well get a third opinion while she's up there. Provided he doesn’t screw this all up by saying something inappropriate!’

Anonymous looked her over. "...I-I don't really know what to say."

Lily chuckled and waved a hoof up at the Corporal. "It's not a trick question or anything, sir. Does she look good enough to walk into the Gala alongside a member of the Blue Chamber? After all, we're all going together, aren't we?"

He smiled. "I suppose we are, but I don't know much about Equestrian fashion."

Lily scoffed. "That's surprising to hear considering how you've got classical colts' style down pat." He gave Lily a confused look, so she continued on with a smile. "I remember how you effortlessly rattled off that order for your very fashionable Gala outfit, sir. You must know more than you think."

Curiously, her statement seemed to dampen his mood.

"That was a special case, Specialist. I've bought that exact suit before."

Lily furrowed her brow. "Wha..? I thought this is your first Gala?"

He licked his lips and sat back in his chair, his mood darkening. "It is. But that was my wedding suit. Back in my world."

‘Oh, crap.’

Corporal Bound's jaw and shoulders dropped, as she blurted out. "You were married, sir?"

‘Bucking Tartarus! She's supposed to be the one to tell me to shut up when I’ve opened my mouth too wide! And there she goes, digging into Anonymous' past on another world!’

Lily may not remember every single boring detail Lieutenant Temper Violetta had said in her briefing about the Royal Engineer, but she sure as buck remembered her admonition not to bring up that sort of thing! Involuntary exiles in Equestria usually didn't like talking about their homelands much, especially when there wasn't much hope of them getting back -- and in Anonymous' case, the L-T had said there was practically no chance at all.

Surprisingly, the Royal Engineer shook his head. "No. I was only engaged."

He got zapped to another world before he could even get married? Separated forever from his sweetheart? Celestia's tears, that's tragic -- and Lily wasn't the mushy type, either. Sparkshower would probably already be bawling if she was there for this.

The corporal's eyes went wide. "You left a fiancée behind?!"

‘Oh great, way to step deeper into it, Honour. Really mash your hoof in there.’

Anonymous swallowed and adjusted himself in his seat. "No. It didn't go through. I, uh..."

He smacked his lips and stared down at the ground for a moment.

"... I called it off."

‘Wow.’

‘That's not the kind of thing that's very frequent around here.’

And from the way he said it, it was obviously not frequent over there, either. As much as it contradicted the Lieutenant's instructions, Lily wasn’t sure her curiosity would let her go on without hearing the rest of this story. And Honour, standing in utter shock, looked unable to continue as well. Hesitantly, Lily opted to see if the Royal Engineer was willing to part with the rest of the details.

"What... happened, sir? If you don't mind us asking?"

Anonymous cast his eyes around the room, then shrugged. "I don't mind. It was a couple of years ago, now..."

Lily got the sense that, even after two years and getting dumped on another world, he wasn’t really completely over it yet.

Anonymous cleared his throat, placing his hands together in front of him. "...There was a breach of trust."

Honour took a step forward, wearing a concerned look. "She cheated on you?"

That was Lily’s first thought as well, but Anonymous shook his head. "No. It was a different problem."

Now it was Lily’s turn to blurt something out. "Money."

Both the Royal Engineer and Corporal Bound looked over at her quizzically. And looking at his face, Lily knew her guess was right.

She shrugged. "Infidelity or money; it's almost always one or the other that breaks up couples."

Anonymous nodded. "In this case I suppose you could say it was about money, yes..."

He paused a moment to take a deep breath and clear his throat. "...She was fairly heavily in debt when we first met. Student loans from school, credit bills from a spendthrift post-graduate life, that sort of thing. Myself, I'd been in the black for a while, living at home with my parents, but her debts didn't really bother me. She had a decent job and a good career ahead of her which would easily let her pay things off. And she was taking care to do just that."

Dipping his head, he lifted one of his hands up in a dismissive gesture, then let them both drop down onto his knees. "...At least, that's what she always said. And when money ever came up, she acted like things were going well, too -- buying expensive things, like a brand-new pricey car instead of a used or simpler one, making it seem like her previous debt was down to almost nothing."

Sucking on his lips, he lifted an eyebrow. "After a year and a half of dating, I proposed. She was thrilled. We were happy. She wanted a big, extravagant wedding. I decided I wanted a fancy bespoke tailcoat, so I did my research and came up with that wedding ensemble."

A fleeting smile appeared on his face, then disappeared just as quickly. "About half a year before the wedding, the housing market was getting pretty hot in our city. I thought it would be a good idea if we tried to get in on some property sooner rather than later. A nice condo midtown, or maybe a house in the suburbs. We made an appointment to get a mortgage pre-approval at the bank; she still pretended like everything was going well and that her credit rating was doing fine."

Shaking his head, he started to look a bit depressed. "But when we got there, it became clear that it wasn't."

Puffing his cheeks, Anonymous blew out a breath and looked down. "She didn't want to admit the truth. She said she was afraid I'd get upset. And in the end, I suppose I did. Not about the debt, which was bigger than she'd ever admitted, and being paid off far more slowly than she'd claimed..."

He looks up, fixing each of them in his gaze, one at a time.

"...I got upset about the lies. The constant claiming that her finances were completely under control. The attempts to cover things up by spending big, when small would've done fine, and when she couldn't really afford it. And how she didn't even say anything before the mortgage meeting."

Anonymous looked wistfully off away from them again. "Face to face with a banker who knew everything about her financial situation, but couldn't spill the details in front of me without her permission, even then she couldn't bring herself to tell me the truth -- not until the car ride home, where she broke down in tears."

Finally, he shrugged. "What choice did I have? I couldn't trust her after such an extended, concerted deception, no matter her apology. Two years of fakery and lies. You can't marry someone you don't trust. So I called it off, and bid her farewell."

The Royal Engineer slouched back in his chair. "I forfeited the deposit on my suit, but that wasn't important. It was the build up and let down of the whole thing; it took something out of me, something much more significant than just money."

A sly smile crept back onto his face. "You know the punchline, though? Half a year later, the bottom fell out of the property market. If we'd bought back then, our mortgage might've wound up uncomfortably underwater. As it was, I made a move and picked up a nice house in a good neighbourhood, all on my own."

The smile disappeared.

"... That was a few months before I wound up here."

‘Damn.’

Lily didn’t really know what to say to all that, and from the look on her face, the corporal didn’t, either.

There was a long, awkward pause, broken only when the Royal Engineer clapped his hands on his knees. "Sorry. I hope I haven't knocked down the mood too much. Anyways, that's why I was able to 'rattle off' the order for that suit so easily, Specialist Glamerspear. I'd spent a considerable amount of time researching things and learning a lot about traditional suits." He chuckled. "Since I never wound up using or even getting the original incarnation, I'm looking forward to wearing it to the Gala here."

Shrugging, he spreads his palms. "As for 'coltish fashion' in Equestria, I think I'm just fortunate it happens to be so much like the traditional formal menswear on my world. It's startling, really. But, when it comes to female attire... Well, I suppose there are a couple of similarities in techniques, but the styles are quite different. Equestria seems to prefer much more big, flamboyant outfits than were common where I come from."

Smiling, he looked Corporal Bound up and down, and the Corporal stood stark, appearing almost embarrassed by the attention. "I think that dress looks good. The gold color works well."

‘Interesting!’

‘And what will Miss Bound do with this third opinion, now that she's finally gotten it?’

Honour nodded, then turned to look herself over in the mirror again. "Let's... put it as a 'maybe', OK?"

‘Really?’

‘That's the first 'maybe!’’

Lily still wasn’t one-hundred-percent satisfied, but it was growing on her a bit. And a lot could be done with accessories, after all.

Honour glanced back at the unicorn. "There's still a few more to try on."

Lily thought quickly.

‘If she liked this one, which one's the next best bet?’

Something came to mind.

"Why don't you try on the red one? With the lace?"

With a nod, the Corporal trotted off to the changing room, drawing the curtain shut.

Lily took the opportunity to lean over and whisper at her VIP. "Psst... Sir, can you do me a favor?"

Anonymous hunched over and down to her level and whispered back. "Certainly. What is it?"

Lily nodded towards where Honour was changing. "It's the corporal, sir. I don't think she's got a lot of self-confidence about her looks, if you know what I mean? And I could use your help with that."

The Royal Engineer arched his eyebrows. "What do you need me to do?"

Lily grinned. "Just now, you complimented the outfit -- that's great, and I'm sure she appreciates it. But next time, if you like the way she looks, make sure to phrase it so it's about her, ya know?"

Waving a hoof around for emphasis, the unicorn continued. "... Like, instead of, 'That dress looks good', say, 'You look good in that dress,’ get it?"

The Royal Engineer nodded and sat back up. "Sure, I'll do that."

‘Great!’

Because that red thing was something special, and Lily really wanted Honour to like it.

Funnily enough, she’d managed to strip off the gold one and get suited up in the red much faster than any of the previous costume changes. The look on her face when she opened the curtains, and the way she opened them -- slowly, like she didn’t want to be seen -- told Lily that she had an uphill battle ahead of her to get Honour into that particular outfit.

"I don't know about this one, Glamerspear."

‘For Celestia's sake! She hasn’t even stepped out of the change-room!’

Lily rolled her eyes. "What, did your 'drinks-with-just-a-friend' friend happen to walk into the store? Don't want to spoil next weekend's surprise in case he sees you in here?"

That earned her a nasty frown.

‘Touched a nerve with that one!’

‘Guess Mister Mystery Colt still played it slow last night.’

Regardless, Honour grumbled, found some courage, and approached the podium.

‘Now, this is a pretty one.’

The red color, Lily felt, wouldn't really work on a lot of mares -- though it definitely worked on a brown one, now that she saw the corporal in it. The fabric was very nice: a darker red floral lace on top of a lighter beige, translucent backing material. That was all reasonable, but it was the cut that was probably making her the most uncomfortable. The cut at the back, to be specific.

Suspecting that Corporal Bound preferred more conservative choices in outfits, this was the only mini dress Lily had picked out for her, but so far, she liked what she saw. Sleeveless, low-cut for a sizable amount of exposed tuft, and with a stiffened chest to form the body, the back ended in lacy frills that just barely covered the curvature of her plot below her tail. The effect would be striking on any pony, but the red color went perfectly with Honour's brown coat and mane 'n' tail -- the backing layer seemed to blend right into her body, so that only the lacy outer layer was really visible. It was almost as if she were wearing the lace alone! And that's part of what made it look great, in Lily’s mind.

Corporal Bound hesitantly looked herself over in the mirror. "It's... pretty short back there. I don't know if this is really appropriate for the Gala."

The specialist scoffed. "Pfft, are you kidding me? Take a look at last year's Canterlot Match magazine; some mares wear dresses cut so short you can almost see everything they've got going on in the rear. You're well above that crass level."

What Lily said was absolutely true. The Corporal didn’t look that convinced, though, so she kept going. "Look, if you feel that uncomfortable, just wear some beige panties underneath it. They'll blend in with the underlayer fabric, the lace'll hide any panty lines, and you won't have to worry about any 'accidental reveals,' ya know?"

That seemed to help; Honour didn’t look quite so skeptical about it anymore. Lily decided to stand up and close the sale, stepping up behind the corporal and watching her go over her reflection in the triple mirrors. Like with the gold one, she bobbed her plot around a bit -- except this dress had a lot more bounce in the back, with the way the bottom splayed out playfully. And that extra bounce in the fabric seemed to be encouraging her to let loose a bit more with her derrière. She was even grooving with her shoulders, too!

‘Damn, maybe the Corporal wasn't always such a grim-faced killjoy.’

‘If so, could this derby-downer brown mare still tear it up on the dance floor?’

Lily was getting a bit curious to find out. Honour wasn’t quite ready to say 'yes' to the dress, though...

The corporal looked up at the Royal Engineer's reflection in the mirror. "What do you think about this one, sir? Compared to the gold one?"

‘C'mon, VIP, don't let your quaternion down. Give Honour the final push over the edge!’

Anonymous took just the right amount of time to appear to be giving a measured response. "I think you look good in it. The color works well against yours, and the lace print has an attractive texture. It looks like you can dance in it, too -- there's dancing at the Gala, isn't there?"

He looked over at Lily as the authority on the G-G-G, and she grinned. "Oh yeah. They start off with the old-fashioned stuff first, but once that's done the DJ lets loose with modern club tunes. The party goes aaaallllll night -- and sometimes night can go on a little longer than usual, too! 'Cause sometimes Her Majesty is a bit late in raising the sun the next day, ya know?"

He smiled. "I think it'd work very well for high-energy dancing. But if you're worried about dressing too aggressively for the rest of the gala leading up to that, why not get something else to wear on top as a layer? Like a shawl or cape?"

‘Buck, that's a good idea.’

Lily looked slyly over at Honour, who was nodding -- with her usual frown on her face, but at least she was nodding.

"I saw a few over in the accessories section, Corporal. Wanna trot over there and take a look?"

She nodded once more. "Yeah, okay."

‘GREAT SUCCESS!’

As she headed out into the main room, Lily gave an appreciative nod to the Royal Engineer. "We'll be right back, sir." Winking at him, she whispered as soon as Honour was out of earshot. "...And thanks for helping seal the deal."

Anonymous smiled. "Any time, Specialist."

‘Yeah, any time you want, big colt.’

‘Heh, maybe the batpony had the right idea about him after all...’

Lily stepped out of the changing area after Honour.

Oh, this was gonna be the best gala ever; her VIP and the quat' were kitted out like a full-on squaaad. They were gonna kill it on the red carpet. Anon in his sharp custom tailcoat. Sparks in that cute little sweetheart dress. Honour's dressing up to party hard. Lily rocking the LV badge with a black summer dress and some killer pumps. And Eb...

‘Wait, what was the sergeant planning to wear?’

‘Oh, well. Questions for later.’

One she’d consider once she was done with the corporal. After all, this is the military! Things've gotta go up the chain of command properly, haha!

Suggested interlude music: Madonna - 'Vogue' [1990]
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GuJQSAiODqI

Chapter 88

Honour Bound

It'd been another long day. By the time Corporal Bound and Specialist Glamerspear actually arrived back at their palace quarters, it was almost six o'clock, and once again, Sparkshower had been left hanging, wondering when her shift was actually going to start. Well, she could wait a few minutes longer while Honour put away her purchases; the corporal planned to escort Sparkshower on-duty herself. Glamerspear could wait a bit downstairs, too, before she was relieved.

Picking out Honour’s dress, and the matching cape and fascinator, had taken the better part of three hours. Pulling the set delicately out of her saddle-bag, she removed the purchases from their paper boxes and laid them out on her bed to look them over. How Glamerspear had managed to get Honour to stuff herself into that tiny little scrap of red fabric, she honestly didn't know. It was the kind of thing a glittering pop star performing at a Los Pegasus casino in front of thousands of underage, whinnying fans would wear.

Or maybe a riverside Manehattan street-trotter...

At least the cape provided some modesty, though it too was a bit 'saltine,' as was the headgear. Honour figured it was the natural consequences of shopping with an ardent practitioner of the custom. And she would definitely be wearing panties if she didn't want to just be waving her plot in everypony's face on the dance floor.

If she even decided to get up and dance. She hadn't made her mind up about that quite yet.

Despite the time investment involved, the Royal Engineer had been polite and discreet about the whole dress-shopping thing. He'd even taken the both of them out for lunch afterwards, at one of Canterlot's innumerable canal-side patio cafés. It was a good thing, too, because as long as it had taken to pick out the corporal’s dress, designing his calling card had taken even longer. Although she’d delivered and received plenty of them, Honour really had no idea how much work and thought could be put into the little paper things.

Should the card be rectangular or oval? 'Fan-shapes' were also popular this season, he'd been told, and shown several examples before declining and settling on rectangular. That raised the question of the edges: should they be straight or scalloped? And would he like ribbon or thread sewn in? Should there be printed designs around the edges? Then it was time to look at the thousands of options for stock printed pictures of flowers or doves. Would the gentlecolt like his photograph on each card? And would sir like his name hoofwritten or in one of the standard typefaces (ligatures extra)? And of course that ink could be black, blue, red, silver, or gold...

Even the paper itself was a thing to be carefully picked! The color could be bright white, classic white, bone, ecru, eggshell, cream, ivory, sand -- and that was just the 'off-whites', never mind all the actual color-colors.

Meanwhile, the salespony had pushed the deluxe heavy-weight paper. 'Less prone to bending and turning up at the corners,' he'd said. 'Easier to prominently emboss,' he'd added, before also presenting the options for that little extra.

Sweet Celestia, they'd even talked about watermarking!

Glamerspear hadn't seemed quite as prepared for the Royal Engineer's card-shopping as she'd been for Honour’s dress-shopping. She was knowledgeable, and provided some decent advice, as well as feedback, but mostly it had been the salespony and Anonymous going back and forth on various design options with the salespony and the card-company's in-house graphic designer. When asked, Honour had given some opinions as well, but frankly she felt completely out of her depth. She’d almost wished she was being forced to drive the Royal Engineer's automobile instead, at break-neck speeds down some narrow, winding, Canterlot alley.

In the end, after two hours and the approval of both of his attendant guardsponies, he'd settled on a rectangular card, eighty-nine by sixty-four millimeter, with straight edges in the luxury three-hundred-gram eggshell cardstock. The corners were emphasized by border art in strong black ink: a curly design centred around three stylized rose blooms in the top-left, and the same curly design but with the rose-blooms replaced by cogwheels in the bottom-right. Offset slightly to the left in a retro 'Centaur' typeface was printed simply 'Anonymous, Royal Engineer of Equestria' with 'Canterlot Palace' beneath it. And to the right was embossed the Royal Seal of Equestria, a stylized sun with a crescent and star inside it, which he was entitled to use as a member of the government.

It would take a few days to prepare the three hundred copies he'd ordered, but the printer rushed out a few quick proofs for him to use in the immediate future. And, of course, a true gentlecolt couldn't simply carry cards like this around in his pocket -- he also purchased a small silver case for them as well.

At the end of it, the elated (but exhausted) salespony declared the design 'crisp, clean, and professional.' Glamerspear said she thought it was 'avant-garde' in its simplicity and use of firm pen lines instead of softer watercolors. As far as Honour could tell, it did what it needed to, and it got the point across -- but even she was surprised by the stark black on white. Not a common combination in colorful Canterlot.

Honour looked over her very red outfit for the Gala. It was slinky, coquettish, and outgoing. All attributes which she’d resolutely divorced over two years ago, and yet, here they were again. Maybe what Glamerspear had really succeeded in doing -- not that morning, but the previous night, with her little speech about 'taking it slow' with Castlerook -- was convincing the corporal that she could still have fun herself, even while being serious. With a sigh, Honour grabbed a hanger and gently put away next week's outfit. Even Anonymous, who'd suffered a heartbreak not unlike her own, yet worked a very serious job in a serious manner, managed to enjoy himself now and again. Including during combat training, of all times, but there was something invigorating about physical activity.

Well, if he could let loose, then so could she.

And if she couldn't, well, then that's what the Gala's open bar was for.

Stepping out of her bedroom, Corporal Bound found Sparkshower waiting at the door like a puppy-dog anxious to be let out for a walk. "I'm ready for duty, Corporal! Are you finished with what you needed to take care of?"

Honour nodded, but when Artemis reached for the door-handle, the earth pony cleared her throat. "Hold up, Specialist..."

The pegasus froze in place, and Honour stepped up next to her. "Have you prepared your apology to the Royal Engineer?"

Sparkshower nodded. "Yes, Corporal. The Sergeant helped me sort everything out. I'm ready to set things right... and to take what punishment may be coming for me."

Honour was really not sure what Ebonshield could have done to help Sparkshower give an appropriate Equestrian apology. Still, she seemed contrite enough. With another nod, she bid her open the door and the two of them walked silently downstairs.

She hoped that Sparkshower's apology went over well. It was true that the Royal Engineer had been extremely forgiving of her own various mistakes -- the Battle of Newstirrup Bridge and her blow-up a few days later, for example -- and had even laughed Ebonshield off the hook when she’d tried to apologize for messing up the day in the Rookery. He'd been sympathetic to Glamerspear's mana poisoning injury, as well.

But this was a different kind of situation. It wasn't just a professional mistake; Artemis had lied to him, and concealed the truth for her own, selfish interests. And that really struck home for the corporal.

Anonymous, their Very Important Pony who wasn't actually a pony, had been through a romantic betrayal very much similar to Honour’s own. She had wondered if she should tell Sparkshower about his experience -- she hadn't been in the dress shop to hear it earlier today -- but decided against it, at least until after she'd given her apology. If she was nervous, it would only make her doubly so. And it shouldn't change what she needed to say.

Honour sighed, internally. It was just up to her to step in if a disaster was about to unfold.

The two of them came to a stop before the Royal Engineer's double chamber doors and Sparkshower looked over at the corporal expectantly. Motioning with her head for Artemis to proceed, the pegasus knocked, and exchanged the traditional Royal Guard refrain with Glamerspear on the inside.

"By the glory of the Morning Dawn, I hereby relieve you at this post."

"By the peace of the Evening Dusk, I stand relieved."

However, although the armored pegasus left, Glamerspear stayed put, and Honour entered the room as well. She wanted everypony here to hear this, just in case. Ebonshield left a note saying she was making a quick trip to the Rookery, so she'd have to get the debriefing from someone else later.

Anonymous was at his desk, reading over a sheet of handwritten paper.

Honour cleared her throat. "Sir, could we have a moment of your time?"

He looked up and realized there were three of them in the room, and lowered the paper onto his desk. "Certainly, Corporal. Is there something wrong?"

She looked over at the wayward pegasus. "Specialist Sparkshower has something she needs to tell you, sir."

The heavily-armored pony stepped forward. "Sir! I... wanted to apologize for something I did yesterday. I made a mistake..."

Anonymous cocked an eyebrow but said nothing. Honour couldn’t see Sparkshower's throat behind her gorget, but she did hear her swallow.

"When I asked you if you wanted to dance the Maypole with me at the Gala, which is something I shouldn't have done in the first place, I neglected to mention something very important, about the nature of that activity, which would probably have changed your answer." She shrank down in her helmet, her head almost disappearing beneath the bronze. "...It's actually a dance normally reserved for lovers, sir." Even as the specialist recoiled inside her armor, Honour could still make out a pair of very rosy cheeks.

Frowning, the Royal Engineer got up out of his seat and walked around his desk, then leaned back up against it, half sitting on it, his arms folded in front of him. He took a moment to process what Artemis had said, before he replied, still looking confused. "Are you saying that you were propositioning me last night, Specialist?"

Glamerspear stifled back a snort. Well, it wouldn't have been the first time one of his bodyguards had done that.

Sparkshower's face had gone completely red. "Oh, goodness, no sir!"

Realizing the impact of that phrasing, she started to babble. "...I ...I mean not that I wouldn't, sir, you understand, but that I wasn't. I didn't intend it that way. And that's why I shouldn't have asked..."

She shook her head, unable to look him in the eyes. "...I just wanted to be able to say that I'd once danced the Maypole at the Grand Galloping Gala."

Anonymous walked over towards Honour’s group, stepping around the sofa to stand just a few hooves away from Sparkshower.

The corporal could hear the nervous pegasus gulp again, but the Royal Engineer looked sad, not angry. "Specialist, I don't mean to pry, but you're still having some trouble with your long-distance coltfriend, aren't you?"

With downcast eyes, she nodded her head, and spoke quietly. "Yes, sir."

The Royal Engineer casually slipped his hands into his trouser pockets. "You were hoping to dance the Maypole with him, but he won't be attending the Gala."

As she shook her head, the bronze pieces of her head armor gently brushed against each other. "No, sir, I don't think he will."

Looking sympathetic, he sighed. "Well, for your sake, Specialist, I hope you can manage to sort things out on that front. Although, I have to admit, I'm a little disappointed." With his hands still in his pockets, he nonchalantly brushed his leather-shoed foot back and forth on the carpet.

Before he could go on, Sparkshower clattered forward and launched into an apology. "I know, sir. I'm ever so sorry to have let you down like this. And I know my personal troubles are no excuse for deceiving you, sir."

Surprisingly, Anonymous shrugged. "Oh, no, I'm not really disappointed about that, Specialist. There's been no harm done -- it's only been a day, after all. I suppose this is one of those situations like the Opera? There may have been some gossip afterwards?"

He looked expectantly past Sparkshower, over at Honour and Glamerspear, so the corporal nodded. "There would have been talk, sir, yes."

Anonymous nodded in turn. "Too bad... No, I'm disappointed because I was actually really looking forward to it."

‘He was?’

Sparkshower lifted her head so quickly that her visor slipped its catch and slammed down in front of her face with a loud clang.

Honour couldn’t help but blurt out in surprise. "You were?!"

The Royal Engineer shrugged and bobbed his head sideways. "Sure. Maybe I've mentioned this before, but although I've been here for almost a year, it feels like I've been living at Equestria rather than in it."

Pulling his hands out of his pockets, he casually gestured in front of him. "I was a little excited about actually starting to immerse myself in the culture a bit. Get my feet wet. Start to understand Equestria as it is -- so that I can help build it into something better with the knowledge I have from my world."

Anonymous placed one hand on his hip, held the other up in the air, and playfully dance-stepped around in a circle. A biped's steps for the Maypole, undoubtedly; Sparkshower must've already worked them out with him last night.

"A traditional folk dance seemed like an easy first step. But I wouldn't want to jeopardize your existing relationship." Pausing, he narrowed his eyes. "...You haven't told your coltfriend that we were to dance together, have you?"

The armored pegasus chuckled awkwardly as she squeakily lifted her bascinet visor back up. "I did, actually. But I'm going to send him another letter right away!"

The Royal Engineer smiled. "Oh, good. Wouldn't want a jilted lover showing up at my doorstep, ha ha. No, I suppose I'll have to find something else."

‘He wants an easy 'in' on Equestrian culture?’

Honour wasn’t sure what to suggest. Glamerspear just shrugged when Bound looked over at her, hoping for inspiration. Well, maybe she could figure out something later. At least the situation was resolved for now.

Honour was about to take her leave when Sparkshower unexpectedly spoke up again. "Actually, sir, if you really wanted to dance, there is another one we could do. It's always played at the Gala. And it doesn't have any romantic implications any more, either!"

‘Oh no, mare, what are you doing?’

Horrifyingly, the Royal Engineer perked up, apparently interested by whatever hackneyed plan she'd come up with. "Really? Which one's this, then?"

Honour waited to find out herself, before she’d step in and shut down yet another foalish enterprise.

"It's called the Lipizzaner Waltz! It's a beautiful and stately pairs' dance; it used to be scandalous but now it's considered a classical ballroom performance. It's got an easy basic step, too!"

Honour knew what a waltz looked like, though this particular one was unfamiliar. Clearing her throat, she looked at Sparkshower and nodded towards their VIP. "Specialist, it might be a bit difficult for the Royal Engineer to actually dance with a pony owing to the height difference from walking on four legs versus two." She glanced back at Anonymous. "The Maypole is an exception because the dancers just circle around each other holding a ribbon."

Before Honour could gauge his reaction, Sparkshower interjected. "But that's just it! The Lipizzaner Waltz is danced entirely on the hind legs! Even the bits where you have to let go of your partner for a few steps! That's what makes it so tricky to do right -- for a pony, anyways. But it's beautiful when executed properly, and I bet you could learn the steps in a snap, sir."

Anonymous chuckled. "And you know them already, do you, Specialist Sparkshower?"

The pegasus nodded. "Yes, sir! I attended a Griffonese dance school in Canterlot during the two-month summer break three years ago!"

That got her a surprised look from everypony, and she went rosy-cheeked again. "... It was my mom's idea. I think maybe she thought learning something dainty like dancing would discourage me from wanting to join the Royal Guard."

Honour’s mother had a very different idea of 'discouragement.' And from the bewildered look on Glamerspear's face, she imagined the unicorn’s parents were the same. Just how the buck did such a sweet, innocent mare with loving, caring parents wind up joining the Royal Guard?

Believing the hype, probably. Or, who knows, maybe it was somehow all completely different when you're a pegasus. Things could look a lot different from up in the air.

Looking a bit embarrassed, Sparkshower concluded. "But I think, if anything, learning under Mister Tanetsov helped get me ready for army life. He was a very strict instructor. And the Lipizzaner dance was always my favorite!"

Over by the sofa, Anonymous nodded. "All right, I'm game. But we've only got a week, Specialist -- and I'm going to need you to deliver my calling-card to Major-General Hoofstrong nice and early tomorrow morning so we can get things sorted out on that front." Stepping back towards his desk, he grabbed the sheet of paper he was holding earlier, and waved it around in the air. "As soon as I've figured out exactly what to write on it and have you say to her representative, that is. Let's see if I can get this cleared up before it gets too dark, then you can show me this 'Lipizzaner Waltz' on the balcony, yes?"

A heavy bronze sabot clanged into an equally heavy bronze helmet. "Yes, sir!"

Their VIP smiled and started back towards his chair, before pausing and turning to look at Honour. "Was there anything else, Corporal?"

She felt like she’d just dodged one spear only to find three more heading her way. Still, though, Sparkshower was right, as far as Honour knew. Nopony was going to say anything about a known bachelor VIP having a single, courtly dance with one of their guardsmares -- provided it wasn't around the Maypole with ribbons in their mouths. Worst-case, a photograph winds up in the gossip rags making some easily-dismissed suggestions.

After a moment with her thoughts, Honour Bound shook her head at the Royal Engineer and waved a forehoof at Glamerspear to beckon her back upstairs. "No, sir. We'll be upstairs if you need us."

He nodded. "Very good, Corporal. Although I may perhaps send up a draft of this letter with Specialist Sparkshower later tonight. I'd appreciate an honest opinion on it in the morning."

Bodyguard, cultural guide, automobile-driver, sparring partner, and now proof-reader? If she wore any more hats on this assignment there wouldn't be any left for all the nobleponies at the Gala.

Honour saluted before exiting the room. "Yes, sir. Good night, sir."

Suggested viewing: "Vienna's Famed Lipizzaner Stallions", by Viking River Cruises
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OeTPKllPtlE

Chapter 89

Artemis Sparkshower

Specialist Artemis Sparkshower really wasn’t sure about this. It was just after breakfast, and on the card table before her sat the final, pencil-written draft of her letter to Huckleberry Pudding. Her follow-up letter, that is -- the one that was going to undo the mistakes of the one she’d sent off yesterday morning. If she posted this one before noon today, it should arrive tomorrow or the day after. That should be plenty of time to solve the problem she’d created in Berry.

'But only if it works.'

And Artemis wasn’t entirely certain it would.

The washroom door opened, and Glamerspear emerged with a towel around her head and another one draped over her back, fresh from a shower after that morning's Pony Physical Training. Since she’d opted to use bath towels, Artemis figured she mustn't have been in the mood for one of those quick 'WC-40' unicorn-magic drying maneuvers. With a smile on her face, Lily settled down onto the sofa, lying on her back, and telekinetically picked up one of her Cosmoponitan magazines.

‘Maybe a fresh set of eyes will settle things.’

Artemis cleared her throat. "Ahem, Ah, Lily? Could you lend me a hoof for a few minutes?"

The unicorn turned her head around to face the pegasus. "Sure, Sparks, what's up?"

Tapping her hoof on the table, Artemis slid the paper towards her. "It's the letter to my coltfriend; the one that's supposed to set everything straight. Do you think you could look it over for me before I put it in ink?"

Lily smiled and, as quickly as she put the sleazy magazine back down on the coffee table, her teal magical aura moved to envelop Artemis’ piece of foolscap instead, and she quickly spun around to sit up on the sofa.

"Oh, are you already working on that? Why, what's the rush?"

‘What's the rush?’

‘This is my relationship on the line, here!’

"I just don't want to have this hanging overhead like a bad storm-cloud for too long."

Lily shrugged. "Ho-kay. Personally, I would've let him simmer for a bit beforehoof. I mean, what's he gonna do? Come to Canterlot and confront you for having another dance partner? Pfft, fat chance if he wouldn't even come when you gave him a free ticket to the Gala. Anyways, let's see what you've got."

She paused for a moment to re-wrap the towels around herself, then leaned forward and began to read. "'My dearest Pudding' -- really, Sparks? You're on a last-name basis with him in letters?"

Artemis protested. "But I like his last name! It's cute! And he sometimes calls me his 'Little Lightning-Shower,' too!"

With a snort, the unicorn grinned and continued reading. "'I'm so sorry for what I said in my previous letter. I had to apologize to the Royal Engineer as well when my friends pointed out what I had done. You know that I could never dance the Maypole with anyone else but you, and if you can't come to Canterlot for the Grand Galloping Gala, then I shan't dance it at all'..."

Glamerspear shook her head. "There's gonna be a thousand handsome colts waiting at the Gala, Sparks. You sure you wanna put that commitment in writing?"

Artemis frowned. Surely Lily wasn’t suggesting she abandon her coltfriend now, in the middle of trying to undo the damage she’d caused? "Yes, I'm sure, Lily. I'm still committed to him, and you were the one who previously scolded me yesterday morning for breaking up with my colt by mail!" Lifting her head, she sat up straight in the chair. "If I ever do want to change anything between us, Celestia forbid, I'll do it in person like a proper gentlemare."

Lily just shrugged in reply, still grinning. "Your choice. I'm just sayin', the field'll be wide open, and why not prepare him for the letdown when you find a real Stud Charming next weekend? Anyways, what else we got here... 'You must know how much I miss you, my Pudding.' -- Eh, it's all right, I'm still not sold on the last-name-talk, but whatever. 'The weeks we've spent apart have felt like an eternity to me, and I am desperate to see you again.' -- Wow, Sparks, melodramatic much? Or are you quoting a poem or something? -- 'I ache to be in your warm embrace once more, to feel our bodies pressed together against the cold of the world.' -- That's nice, but getting a bit clingy here, I'd say -- 'Oh, my Huckleberry, when next we meet, I need you..."

Lily trailed off, her mouth dropping open. After a moment's pause, she lifted her eyebrows, licked her lips and restarted the aborted sentence. "... 'Oh, my Huckleberry, when next we meet, I need you to buck me in half.'"

Eyes widening, she cleared her throat and continued.

Artemis hung on every word, trying to gauge her reaction.

"...Ahem, 'I want to ride you wildly from dusk to dawn, and then back to dusk again. We shall make the bugbear with two backs, my gossamer wings wrapped around your firm haunches, until you have so filled me with your seed that your stones ache and the hay is drenched in my liquid heat. Then you shall recline on fresh bedding and take your rest; I will lie at your hindquarters and devour your hot poker like the delicious lollipop it is...'"

She broke off and looked up at Artemis, confused. "... Sparks, did you write this all by yourself?!"

The pegasus eagerly shook her head. "Oh, no! Sergeant Ebonshield helped me with this part yesterday."

It really had been nice of her to lend a hoof. For someone whose first language wasn't Equestrian, the sarge sure helped her put things in the right words.

Glamerspear nodded slowly, but that answer didn’t seem to have satisfied her. "Oooo-kayyy…”

“'... I will lie at your hindquarters and devour your hot poker like the delicious lollipop it is, licking and sucking at it, and enveloping your walnuts in my feathers, until I have extracted every last savory drop'..."

As she read, appearing more and more surprised with every word, Artemis held her hooves in her teeth, nervous.

"... 'By then, I shall be so ravenous for dessert, but your loins will be so completely emptied, that you will have no choice but to hold me down with your mighty forehooves, press your snout against my alley and, with your long pink taster, delve into the ocean of my flower and give me the release I so desperately crave. If my shrieks of pleasure should inflame your passions once more, then I will not object even in the slightest if you flip me over and find yourself at my cellar-door. Knock stoutly and enter inside with rough abandon, my love, and I will greet your firmness with open-mouthed delight as I agonizingly welcome you into the cramped depths of my ecstasy.'"

Glamerspear took a deep breath before reading the final paragraph. "... 'Oh, Huckleberry, my sweet beloved, how wickedly and how gluttonously I crave you, how I wish to gorge myself and feel all of you inside me. Please, do not let me starve without your stout attentions for much longer. Let us rejoice in each others' company before my passions drive me mad. With the tender kisses, your dearest little Lightning-Shower.'"

‘Well?’

‘Did she like it?’

The look of shock on Lily’s face told Artemis nothing, nor the way she slowly, almost reverently, floated the letter down onto the coffee-table before her.

"... Wow. I think that was the filthiest love-letter I've ever read."

‘Oh, no!’

"So it's no good?"

Glamerspear laughed. "Oh, it's good, all right. Tartarus, you had me buzzing at the horn a bit, and I'm not even the target audience." She looked over at Artemis. "This thing is so sordid, Sparks, I can't believe you're not nursing at least a half-wingboner right now."

The pegasus’ wings were still comfortably folded against her body, and she shrugged, almost embarrassed at not feeling aroused. "I guess I've read and re-read it so many times it doesn't really have that effect on me any more."

The pink unicorn chuckled. "Well, any colt'd have to be six hooves underground for it not to have an effect on 'em, but I mean, if you asked me how to prop up your long-distance-relationship, I woulda suggested something different."

‘She would have?’

‘Am I going about this all the wrong way?’

‘Was Sergeant Ebonshield mistaken when she said that a raunchy letter was the best way to patch things up with Huckleberry?’

"... I mean, don't get me wrong, the letter's great..."

‘Oh, good!’

"... But colts are kinda... visual, you know? Words can evoke the kinda mental images they need to get their Jennets rustled, sure, but actual pictures can go a real quarter-mile further, ya know what I mean?"

‘Pictures?’

Before Artemis could ask for clarification, Lily threw off her body towel and scrambled over to where the pegasus was sitting, placing one foreleg down on the card-table as she leaned over almost sideways in front of Artemis, wearing a sinister smile.

"You know anypony who owns a camera, Sparks?"

The pegasus was feeling a little confused. "Sure... I know me, and I own a camera, a 'Little Ludwig' number 2, model D."

Glamerspear's smile broadened. "Perfect. Take some photos, then."

Artemis furrowed her brow and turned slightly away, unsure of what Lily was going to propose. "What do you mean? What kind of photos?"

The unicorn leaned in close, almost muzzle-to-muzzle, just like Ebonshield did when she was talking seriously. "Photos of you, silly Sparksy."

The hapless country mare was even more confused now than ever, and she recoiled a little, if only to get away from Lily’s imposingly pointy snout. "But... Huckleberry already has photos of me... and photos of us."

Glam just laughed. "Oh, sure! Photos of you in your Royal Guard parade dress, or together at the county fair, or at school graduation, or sitting down for dinner, things like that, in nice pretty frames hanging on the wall or propped up on his bedside table?"

The laughter stopped, and she shook her head. "I'm not talking about those kinds of photos, Sparks. I'm talking about the kind of hot pictures he'll keep hidden away at the bottom of his bedside table's drawer, underneath an old sock with a musty smell to it."

‘That's uncanny!’

‘How could she know Huckleberry had one of those in there?’

Before she could ponder the question further, Lily leaned sharply in even closer, taking up the slack space Artemis had created. From the force of her movement, Lily’s towel head-wrap partially unraveled itself and draped down next to her cheek, waving side-to-side at the edge of the pegasus’ vision.

"I'm talking about you, Sparkshower, on your bed in there, facing away from the camera, muzzle down, plot up, tail to the side, wings spread, forelegs spread, hind legs spread, and wearing nothing but a smile."

‘Oh, hurricanes!’

Her eyes went wide as Lily carried on. "Or maybe lying on your side, from behind, with your back slightly arched and your wings splayed out, looking back at the camera with smouldering eyes."

Artemis felt a sudden heat in her cheeks, and there was a muffled thud as one of her wings bumped into the other card-table chair.

"Or on your back, everything completely wide open and your forehooves gathered up at your chest, with a look on your face that says, 'please be gentle' and a confidence that says, 'but not too gentle.'"

‘Tornadoes!’

It was all too much; she had to take a few deep breaths and shut her eyes for a moment.

When she opened them again, Glamerspear was sitting beside her at the table, with the letter lying back in front of her.

"...Those are the kind of photos I'm talking about..." Lily tapped a hoof on the paper. "... Include a few scandalous prints in the envelope with this, and I guarantee you that your colt'll come galloping to Canterlot with a package so stiff he won't be able to sit down on the Friendship Express without poking himself in the eye."

‘Goodness!’

‘That's... actually... kind of exactly what I want.’

"But... if I'm in the photos, then who'll operate the camera? The model D hasn't got a timer."

She certainly couldn't ask her father to take photos like that! Or any colt at all, actually!

Glamerspear waved a hoof dismissively in the air. "Oh, I'll help you out, marefriend. I've done this sort of stuff before."

‘Really?’

"Gosh, Lily, thanks a lot!"

The unicorn grinned. "No problem, Sparks. Why don'tcha trot into the shower and get yourself looking all nice and pretty while I finish toweling off."

"Okay!" Artemis got up, nearly knocking over the empty chair with her wings before she forced them to fold back up.

As she headed towards the washroom, however, the hallway door opened. Corporal Bound stepped in and fixed the pegasus in her gaze. "Sparkshower. Get suited up in your armor, you're on deck."

Reaching into her saddlebag, she pulled out a small envelope. "This is the Royal Engineer's calling-card, along with some notes on what to say. You're going to deliver the card to Major General Hoofstrong at the Canterlot Sector Air Defense Headquarters and set up the meeting to discuss his airspace needs."

‘Snow-squalls!’

Looks like her photo session with Lily would have to wait a little longer...

Chapter 90

Artemis Sparkshower

Specialist Artemis Sparkshower, former 19D Armoured Scout, present VIP bodyguard, now on special assignment as an armored message courier!

... She wasn’t sure what service code that counted as. Maybe there wasn’t even one.

Regardless, with the Royal Engineer's calling-card in her saddlebag and his instructions memorized, she was in the air and on her way to the headquarters of the First Air Division. Unlike the Household Division that was based on the palace grounds, the First Air had its HQ out in the city proper. Their home was the tallest building in Canterlot, when measured in terms of elevation above the ground surrounding it.

The Watchtower.

Capped with a spartan 'helmet' dome instead of the more elaborate 'onion' style used for the Palace and so eagerly copied by other capital buildings, The Watchtower was a monumental fortress-spire at the outer rim of one of the city's middle tiers with a commanding view; not just of the entirety of the metropolis, but of Cloudsdale above and the surrounding countryside below. In effective vertical elevation, the structure was exceeded by several towers on the upper tier, most of them part of the Palace complex, but none of them exceeded it for sheer bulk.

The Watchtower's colossal volume had room for two full regiments of two thousand pegasi each, plus the headquarters and support units of the First Air Division. And those stalwart defenders could take off at a moment's notice to defend the capital from the three great and five lesser landing platforms that jutted out from the building, or sally forth from any of a dozen simpler portals. There were even arrow-slits for unicorn and earth pony defenders to fire missiles from, and the upper landing platform, facing away from the city, had been modernized to mount a battery of cannon as well.

Nearly a thousand years old, The Watchtower was one of the few structures included in the city's original plan, though that was not to say it was still in its original state. Wars, treason, and disasters, magical and mundane alike, had all taken their toll on the old bastion. Even today, there were still patchwork bits of scaffolding around the spire, hosting crews still hard at work repairing the extensive damage The Watchtower had suffered during the Changeling Invasion. Only the Palace itself had been more thoroughly wrecked.

Artemis knew all this not just because she’d taken a flying tour of the city, and read about the illustrious First Air Division's history in the Royal Guard archives, and walked into the small visitor's center on the ground floor in her civvies and taken photos of the mural depicting the fortress' many sieges. She knew all this because she’d thought that The Watchtower would eventually wind up being her home.

Yes, Artemis was in the VIP service now, and as thrilling and rewarding as it had been so far, she had never thought it would be a permanent assignment. Once she’d finished a tour of duty serving as a dutiful bodyguard to noble ponies, and even noble non-ponies like the Royal Engineer, and once she’d settled into Canterlot life with her faithful Huckleberry -- ‘Oh, Huck!’ -- the First Air Division was where she’d truly be headed. Not that Artemis would say 'no' if the illustrious Household Division at the Palace accepted a request for transfer, of course! She was just setting realistic goals. Those being, a posting somewhere with solid ground underhoof and job opportunities for her partner.

The pegasus would miss Berry, but it was hardly so far away that she couldn't visit. The train ride was just a couple of hours, and ran twice a day! And besides, Canterlot's city life held so much promise, so much wonder and excitement! After that eye-opening class trip five years ago, she knew she eventually wanted to end up there, regardless of where her first posting was.

Putting her personal thoughts at the back of her mind, Artemis came in to land on the uppermost of the three great oval 'balconies' that served as the mustering grounds for Canterlot's stalwart defenders. And it was also the closest pad to the actual headquarters, which she knew was just two more stories upstairs. Four lookouts and a traffic coordinator barely took notice of her, but the two pegasi at the doorway into the tower stopped her, and one of them stepped forward.

"Identification, ma'am?"

She dug out her ID card from her saddle bag and hoofed it over. "Specialist Artemis Sparkshower, Canterlot Palace Military Office, VIP Section."

Once the guard had looked it over, he lifted his head, still holding the card. "What's your business here today, Specialist?"

"Message delivery for Major General Hoofstrong."

The guard nodded and hoofed her back the ID. "HQ is two floors up. Staircase is on your left once you step inside. Ask for Lieutenant Cloudhunter." Finally, he gave her a salute, and she returned it before making her way in.

Definitely a bit more order and regulation here with these 1AD pegasi than with those diamond dogs from the Princess-Cadenza's 'Peregrines' regiment! Artemis didn’t need a repeat of that encounter at the gate… Or the mishap that had her speaking to the regimental commander instead of merely the Officer of the Watch!

Stepping inside, the pegasus trod her way upstairs, her armor clattering the whole way. There really wasn't anything else to do for it -- the tight staircase winding around the outer edge of the tower was far too narrow to risk flying in, at least while dressed in full plate. And there were no taunting griffons to follow in the hallway this time, either! Not that Artemis was against a little fun, of course... but it was nice to see the Royal Guard at its most well-drilled and brightly polished.

Then again... the First Air Wing was a part of the First Air Division. That meant Lieutenant Kilfeather, and his crony Lieutenant Joker, if they weren't both still on medical leave, were somewhere within this tower. With that sobering thought in mind, Artemis turned the corner onto the first landing up, only to bump almost straight into another soldier.

"Oh, good morning to you, Specialist!"

"Guh!"

‘Thundershowers, it's an officer!’

A captain, by the look of it.

‘Quick, the greeting of the day!’

"Good to go, I guess I don't rate a salute either, huh!?"

‘Too slow!’

Artemis quickly tried to snap a hoof up to attention. "Uh, I'm sorry, sir, good day to you. It's just that I didn't see you coming around the corner."

The officer just kept walking, though, hiking a hind hoof back towards where he came -- and where she was going. "Carry on, Specialist! You're late enough already without fumbling for excuses!"

‘Late?’

How could she be late if nopony knew she was even coming? Regardless, she broke into a sharp hustle -- and it was so loud that the captain would still hear it even if he was already two floors down. Huffing and puffing, Artemis wound her way around and up the second set of stairs. Hopefully there were no officers at the top of this one, waiting to ambush her with the requirement of a formal greeting and salute.

She nervously cleared the open doorway out of the staircase, then immediately darted across the hall to the open door labelled 'HEADQUARTERS, 1AD'. But Artemis didn’t get two galloped steps inside before a glasses-wearing sergeant sitting at the reception desk looked up from the papers he was reading and scowled at her.

"You're daggon' late, Specialist! Get your bronze-coated barrel in the briefing hall, stat!"

‘Another pony claiming I’m late!’

‘What is going on here!?’

Unwilling to argue the point further with an irate sergeant -- and a staff sergeant, at that! -- she waved a hoof-salute in his direction as she took to the air, following the direction given by his hoof-gesture.

And she didn’t forget to give him the greeting of the day on her way past.

"Good morning, Staff Sergeant!"

As Artemis headed towards the indicated briefing hall, she just barely heard him mutter angrily behind her.

"Daggon' valks, ain't got no daggon' discipline or sense o' time..."

‘Wait, what was that?’

She didn’t have time to figure it out, because by the time it fully registered in her mind, Artemis had already reached the double doors labelled 'Briefing Room,' and she found herself automatically pushing one of them open.

The scene inside, however, shocked her back to her senses.

In a long, high-ceilinged rectangular room with wood-paneled walls, what seemed like an entire battalion was seated, listening to an officer speak up on a raised stage. Suddenly self-conscious, Artemis gingerly closed the door behind her and snuck as quietly as she could up behind the final row and sat down on her haunches.

The officer on stage -- a full colonel, presumably the commanding officer of this battalion in particular -- continued as if they hadn't even noticed her late entry. "...And that concludes the assignments for this weekend's watch. Remember, soldiers, if everything goes smoothly, we'll be repeating the same thing next weekend for the Gala. Any problems with the enhanced duty roster are to be reported immediately to HQ, is that clear? Any questions?"

There was a soft murmur among the crowd, and then a forehoof went up near the front.

"... Yes, Captain?"

The inquisitive captain stood up on their hind hooves. "Sir, do we have any real information about the nature of this supposed threat to the Gala?"

That earned more murmuring from the crowd.

‘What's this about a threat to the Gala, though??’

The Colonel raised his forehooves, and the crowd went silent. "Unfortunately, Captain, no we do not." That got some more murmurs going, but the colonel spoke over them. "That is why headquarters has come up with this plan to cover all our bases. And until we do get more specific details, that's how it's going to be."

There was a further buzz of conversation, but nopony else puts up a forehoof.

"If that's all, the division commander would like to say a few words to all of us. Ma'am?"

A pegasus with a short white mane and a red coat got up from the rightmost seat at the very front row of the audience, beating her wings once to reach the stage.

‘So that's Major General Hoofstrong.’

‘She certainly strikes a distinctive figure.’

Unlike the Colonel, who was in his armor but with a hat instead of his helmet, the Major General was wearing her blue Air Service Dress jacket, sleeves down, with the standard lighter blue collared shirt underneath and a neat black tie sealing everything up. There were a considerable number of ribbons on her breast, too, all crammed in between the foreleg and the lapel, and framed with the air service badge at the top and the Air Service Cross medal, with oak-leaf clusters, beneath it. Sitting above all that, on top of her head was a blue uniform peaked cap with two rows of silver 'scrambled eggs' leaf embellishments on its black visor, and a row of silver lightning bolts around the band.

The room quickly went quiet as the Major General took her spot on the stage.

Behind her, the battalion colonel called out. "Ten...HUT!"

The whole room snapped up to attention, and the Major General saluted, while from the left side of the room, a bugler played an honor call.

Suggested background music: The United States Army Band - 'To the Color'
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6EsUvNz_i60

A moment after the bugle finished, Hoofstrong began to speak.

"At ease."

There was a shuffling of bodies and armor as guardsponies settled back down again, then she continued.

"Guardsponies, there's some apprehension going around about what's going to happen next week. About who we're going to have to fight, and when, and where. I don't want any of you thinking about that garbage, because none of it matters. What matters is who we are, and what we do, and when we do it."

She took a moment to look around the room. "You are here today for three reasons. First, because you are here to defend your homes and your loved ones. Second, you are here for your own self-respect, because you would not want to be anywhere else. Third, you are here because you are real pegasi, and all real pegasi like to fight."

‘They do?’

‘I do?’

‘Well, maybe.’

"When you were foals, you all admired the swiftest fliers, the best hoofball players, the big-league boffyball stars, the MXP champions. Pegasi love a winner and will not tolerate a loser. Pegasi play to win all the time. That's why Equestria has never lost and will never lose a war, because the very thought of losing is hateful to us pegasi."

It was true that Equestria had never lost a war. As valuable as the Guard had been, though, Artemis had always sort of pinned things on individual heroes -- famous soldiers & generals, powerful mages -- that sort of pony. Her Majesty the Princess of the Sun being foremost among them. But, even growing up in an overwhelmingly Earth-Pony town like Berry, Artemis had to admit that what Major General said hit home for her. She’d always felt that way about sports and games, always looking up to the champions.

Including herself when her hoofball team had won the annual cup.

Or when she’d come first in the Hark County Aerial Marathon!

Up on stage, Hoofstrong continued. "Now, we have the finest equipment, the best spirit, and the best soldiers in the world. You know, by Tartarus, I actually pity any poor bastards who come up against us, by Tartarus I do."

‘She cursed!’

‘Are officers allowed to curse?’

‘Maybe it's because she's a mustang?’

The Major General took a step forward. "Whoever dares to strike at our nation's capital, we're not just going to spear the bastards, we're going to cut out their living guts and give 'em to the earth ponies to fertilize the fields. We're going to murder the bastards by the bushel, until it rains blood down on the soil below."

‘Gosh, that's an awfully visceral image.’

‘Almost worse than the foul language earlier.’

"Now, there's another thing I want you to remember: I don't want to get any messages sent to HQ saying that we are holding The Watchtower. The Watchtower has never, in the history of Equestria, fallen to an enemy force. You don't need to hold The Watchtower. Let the enemy try to do that; they'll fail. We are advancing through the city and through the sky and we're not interested in holding onto anything except the enemy. We're going to hold onto them by their snouts and we're going to buck them in the plot. We're going to kick the Tartarus out of them all the time and we're going to go through them like crap through a goose."

That last vulgar line drew a few chuckles from the audience.

"Some of you foals and fillies, I know, especially the ones who weren't around here last year, are wondering whether or not you'll Breezie out if a real invasion comes. I can assure you that you will all do your duty."

'Last year' would be referring to the Changeling Invasion...

The First Air Division lost a lot of good soldiers that day; all of the units defending the Canterlot sector did. The Major General had good reason to want to pump up the confidence of the fresh recruits who hadn't been tested in that epic battle.

Artemis herself felt a moment of pride to have kept her head during the border skirmish that was her experience of the war.

"One day, thirty years from now -- you may thank Celestia for it, thirty years from now -- you're going to be sitting around your stable with your grandfoal by your flank, and they ask you, 'What did you do during the Battle of the Gala?', you won't have to say, 'Well, I shoved around clouds in Cloudsdale.'"

Artemis suppressed a gasp.

‘Was she putting down the Airborne Weather And Climate Service, the AWACS?’

‘That was every pegasus' duty to perform!’

Swearing, grotesque imagery, and now outright sacrilege? This was not the kind of behaviour Artemis had expected from a modern major-general!

"No, sir, you can look them straight in the eyes and say, 'Grandfoal, I flew with the great First Air Division and that foal-of-a-nag named Georgia Hoofstrong!"

‘Foal-of-a-nag!’

‘Well, she said it, not me.’

The Major General nodded. "All right, now, you foals-of-nags, you know how I feel. Oh... I will be proud to lead you wonderful foals & fillies into battle anytime, anywhere. That's all."

With that, the Major General gave another salute, and, as the colonel called the room to attention once more, she glided off the stage and, joined from behind by another pony who was sitting in the front row -- her Aide-de-Camp, most likely -- together they strode down the central aisle towards the rear doors.

‘Oh, hurricanes!’

Artemis couldn’t be seen by them, or else it would make delivering the message pretty awkward!

Making sure to respectfully salute with her eyes forward and her chest puffed out, she inched her way forward to try to blend in with the soldiers in the row in front of her. Except it's not exactly ideal camouflage, because none of them were in heavy armor like Artemis was.

When the Major General's sharp hoofsteps passed her by, she held her breath.

But as she heard them continue their trot all the way to the door, Artemis sighed in relief.

Once the general was out of the room, the colonel dismissed the troop, and guardsponies started to file out, the buzz of discussions filling the air. Artemis let a bunch of soldiers pass ahead of her, before clustering up with a crowd of fellow heavily-armored pegasi, the better to blend in.

Trowal, delivering messages sure was complicated! Armored Recon ponies were just supposed to skirmish along the front and drive off enemy scouts, not operate commando-style behind enemy lines like this!

And all this from having to let an officer (and a desk sergeant) boss her around.

Which, to be fair, was their job, but they didn't have the faintest clue who she was or what she was doing! She didn't even report to them!

As Artemis headed out the door at the back of a herd of similarly-attired guardsponies, she silently resolved not to let anypony else distract her until she had done her duty. If there was a complaint, they could take it up with Lieutenant Violetta and the CPMO!

That's when she felt a pair of hooves clasp her on the shoulder.

"That's far enough, soldier."

‘Tornadoes!’

The Major General's aide-de-camp, a lieutenant, stood before her, with a gruff sergeant holding her beside.

"Come this way."

Suggested background music: Basil Poledouris - 'Rasczak's Roughnecks', from 'Starship Troopers' [1997]
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rkBGjLfVbIY

The ADC turned on his heels and the sergeant released the specialist, brusquely motioning for Artemis to follow after the lieutenant. The two pegasi led her deeper into the headquarters office, away from the bulk of the Royal Guardsponies who were making for the stairs.

She passed desk after desk full of weary-looking divisional staff, their tables covered with what seemed to be personnel files. From what Artemis heard, it was an awful lot of paperwork, managing a division properly. At the back, huge rows of cabinets flanked a pair of double doors, which a private opened ahead of the Lieutenant, saluting as the ADC passed by.

‘Hailstorms, what have I gotten myself into?’

Past what was clearly the First AD's Equine Resources department, Artemis headed into what was equally clearly the strategic planning office. The room was dominated by an enormous raised table on which sat a miniature representation of the Canterlot Air Sector.

‘Gosh, it's even got Canterlot Mountain to scale!’

And Cloudsdale was hanging in the air, suspended by wires from the ceiling, too! Artemis could think of more than a few Hyperspace HyperWars players back in Berry who would love to set their miniatures up on this board! Not that they'd get a chance, however -- dozens of pegasi in service uniforms were buzzing around the room like bees, moving markers and updating charts on the walls. With organization like this, it was little wonder that The Watchtower had never fallen...

Unfortunately, Artemis couldn’t stop and watch -- the lieutenant and his surly sergeant led her around the table and to another pair of double doors at the back. The lieutenant pulled the door open himself, and inside she saw a big, brown wooden desk.

And behind it sat Major General Hoofstrong herself.

‘Well…’

‘This is one way to deliver a calling card, all right.’

It just wasn’t necessarily the best way.

The sergeant pulled the doors shut behind the specialist, and she noticed that there was another pony in the room as well. Unlike the others, she wasn’t in a service uniform, but instead was armored from head to hooves in heavy bronze plate, almost identical to Artemis’, with the notable exception that her helmet had a pair of decorative wings attached at the temples.

‘Hurricanes, thunderstorms, and hailstorms!’

‘It's an actual Valkyrie!’

Hoofstrong glanced at Artemis, then looked at the Valkyrie. "Well, Growler, is this the one?"

The armored figure nodded. "Yes, General; she snuck in at the end."

‘That's not fair!’

Considering the noise her armor made, she could hardly be said to have snuck in.

The General looked in her direction again. "Stand at attention, soldier."

Artemis snapped into a salute. Georgia Hoofstrong stepped around her table to sit in front of it, crossing her forelegs in front of her chest. "You're not one of my Valkyries. Who are you, and what were you doing in my briefing hall?"

"Specialist Artemis Sparkshower, Canterlot Palace Military Office, VIP section, ma'am! I'm here to deliver a message, and I was directed there by mistake."

The Valkyrie scoffed, but went silent when the Major General shot her a glance. Then she turned her eyes back onto Artemis again.

"Are you making an accusation against a member of my staff, Specialist?"

‘Oh, Celestia, I’ve got to be awfully careful about how I word this.’

"No, ma'am, but... Given my attire, I believe the desk clerk may have mistaken me for a tardy Valkyrie late to the briefing. A captain in the staircase just before that may have done so as well."

One of the Major General's white eyebrows lifted up. "A tardy Valkyrie? Now there's a thought. Who could possibly have cause to accuse a Valkyrie of tardiness?"

There was a funny tone to her voice, but it was when the actual honest-to-Celestia Valkyrie in the room straightened up in her armor and opened her mouth to speak that Artemis got the impression that Hoofstrong may have been speaking sarcastically.

"General, I-"

The division commander lifted a hoof. "Don't interrupt, Growler; I'm asking the questions here. Now, why are you in heavy armor, Specialist? Was it your intention to be misidentified?"

Artemis shook her head. "No, ma'am. This is my standard combat outfit; I'm a 19D Armored Scout originally from the Third Pegasus Regiment."

The general licked her lips and shook her head, sighing. "All right, I've heard enough."

She nodded at the Valkyrie, Growler. "Major, take better care that your troops show up to meetings on-time and maybe random guardsmares in heavy armor won't be mistaken for one of them."

As the general turned back to the specialist, Major Growler frowned, and Artemis could tell the frown was directed her way as well.

"As for you, Specialist, go on and deliver your message. Sergeant, please direct the specialist where she needs to go."

The general waved a hoof and then began to step back behind her desk.

‘Whew.’

But before the sergeant moved forward to come up beside her, Artemis spoke up, maintaining her salute. "Ma'am, with respect, the message I'm carrying is actually intended for you."

Hoofstrong paused and looked up, curious. "Oh, is it? And what does the CPMO VIP section want with the 1st A-D? No, no, don't tell me, let me guess..." She took a deep breath and, stretching her wings out slightly, sat up in her chair, then leaned forward, placing her forehooves together and her elbows on the table. "... This is about the unauthorized aerial training exercise on the palace grounds two days ago, isn't it?"

‘Celestia, she's sharper than a January cold front.’

Artemis nodded. "Yes, ma'am. The Royal Engineer of Equestria sends his apologies, and his calling-card."

Major General Hoofstrong nodded and swept out a hoof, motioning for Artemis to continue. Dropping out of her salute, she pulled Anonymous' card out of the small letter-pocket in her saddle bag and hoofed it over to the Major General, who pulled the card forward across the desk with one hoof, before flipping it over to look at the back.

The specialist continued. "He would like to arrange a meeting at your earliest convenience to present his apologies in person, and also to obtain an authorization to resume the aerial training exercise in question as soon as possible. He's available at your discretion."

Hoofstrong leaned back in her chair and exchanged an exhausted glance with her ADC. "Now? Really? The Royal Engineer wants to conduct live-fire exercises on the palace grounds a week before the Grand Galloping Gala?"

Artemis shook her head. "With respect, ma'am, it wasn't live-fire. I was being shot at by practice rounds only."

That raised eyebrows all around the room.

‘Well, what?’

‘You were!’

The Valkyrie, Major Growler, grumbled out a question before anypony else. "You were serving as a living target yourself? You weren't just towing one in the air?"

"I was the target, ma'am. I was performing mock strafing runs against an armed mobile ground unit."

Growler scrunched up her snout. "Armed? Armed with what, a cannon?"

"No, ma'am. An anti-air unicorn member of my quaternion; a Centurion of the Ram."

Her answer just confused the Valkyrie, and she fell silent.

Major General Hoofstrong leaned forward again. "Specialist Sparkshower, what exactly were you testing out on Her Majesty's Royal Eastern Cottage racetrack?"

"The Royal Engineer's new Self-Propelled Air Defence Weapon, ma'am. It's an awfully clever machine."

Her answer only seems to have confused the two-star general of the Royal Guard, so she pressed on. "I'm not too familiar with the workings of it, but I'm sure the Royal Engineer would be happy to tell you all about it himself, General. He says it's going to revolutionize Equestrian warfare."

Hoofstrong frowned and looked back down at the calling-card for a moment, then began to shake her head. "Specialist, I've got almost the entire First Air Division working double shifts patrolling the Canterlot airspace between now and the Gala, and my headquarters staff is waiting on the tips of their hooves for any new information about the supposed threat that Intelligence has signalled. It's really not the best time."

Sighing, she pulled the card off the edge of the table and into her hoof, holding it up. "...But, let me see if I find a spot in my calendar for your VIP. Return to the Royal Engineer and tell him I'll send a messenger of my own with the meeting time later today. Got that?"

Artemis saluted once more. "Yes, ma'am!"

With a grin, Hoofstrong nodded at the Valkyrie. "And if anypony else mistakes you for a tardy Valkyrie in the Watchtower, blow them off and tell them to bring it up with Major Growler, understand?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Right. Dismissed."

With a final salute, Artemis turned around and found the sergeant had already opened the door for her.

‘Well, sunshine and rainbows, that wasn't too hard in the end!’

‘Though it certainly looked stormy at the beginning…’

Artemis hoped the eventual meeting with the Royal Engineer went just as well...

Suggested watching: Opening scene from 'Patton,' [1970]
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CCA6uxQE-bw

Chapter 91

Honour Bound

Corporal Honour Bound was looking forward to a nice, quiet day. One with no unpleasant surprises from the junior enlisted under her charge. And no nearly-underage batpony coltfriend on display. And no pressure to try on scandalously high-cut dresses for the Gala. Just her, her armor, and her spear, on guard beside the Royal Engineer's doors. And the Royal Engineer himself, sitting on a stool at one of the recently-installed workbenches in his quarters, working on some mechanical thing or another.

And Specialist Sparkshower on the other side of the doors, just in case anypony came for a visit. Artemis deserved the extra shift to make up for her mistake -- to the Royal Engineer, for having deceived him, and to Honour, for having embarrassed the quaternion and given her a headache.

As much as the corporal knew that Anonymous wanted to get things sorted out for his 'Self-Propelled Air Defence Weapon' demonstration, she’d much prefer a nice, quiet day. Nothing but some tinkering with his tools, maybe a quick trip down to the carriage-house for some adjustments to the vehicle, possibly even yet another driving lesson -- which was stressful, but becoming less so, at least -- and then an easy hoof-off to Ebonshield for the night shift.

Easy-keeper little-hay-eater.

Provided Glamerspear hadn't somehow managed to start some utter nonsense upstairs, things might just wind up going that easily.

Honour was just starting to feel relaxed when there was a knock at the door.

This interruption, she hoped, was just an expected delivery. Cracking open the door, Honour saw a pair of brightly-coloured unicorn colts in dark grey frock coats, with brown waistcoats underneath, and matching bowler hats on top.

They were a bit overdressed for a simple delivery.

"Yes?"

The older colt's horn glowed orange as he floated off his grey hat. "Mister Henry Fortstable to see the Lord Engineer, ma'am?"

It was a surprise to hear the gentlecolt himself at the door. The Royal Engineer told her only that he was expecting a delivery from Henry Fortstable & Co., renowned Canterlot coach-builders, not that the actual Henry Fortstable would be making the trip.

From behind her, Honour heard the Royal Engineer call out before she could relay the greeting.

"Did I hear Mr. Fortstable himself at the door, Corporal? Please show him in."

It sounded like her employer was equally surprised.

As Corporal Bound and Sparkshower pulled the double doors open wide and allowed the two unicorns to enter, Honour noticed to her relief that the other colt was quite clearly an assistant, as he had a pair of heavily-laden saddle-bags slung over his haunches. Since it was just a package delivery, she hadn't even thought to check on Mr. Fortstable's affinity.

Anonymous put down his tools and stood up, wiping his hands on his leather work-apron. "Ah, Mister Fortstable, you really didn't need to attend to me personally like this. Surely your business must be bustling with the Gala coming up."

The older colt smiled. "My Lord is too kind. But my faith in my employees is surpassed only by my desire to satisfy my most valuable customers."

Anonymous chuckled. "I'm not sure how I managed to reach that lofty height with just two orders under my belt."

‘Two orders?’

Henry Fortstable & Co. built the base chassis for the Royal Engineer's steam-powered 'automobile.' Had he ordered a second one already? Maybe so, but Honour’s VIP had said that today's delivery would be relatively small; just a few parts he was looking for. What could they possibly have brought?

As if to answer her question, the younger assistant, at Henry Fortstable's beckoning, trotted over to one of the workbenches and telekinetically hoisted the bags off of his back. Then her Very Important Pony (who isn't actually a pony) grabbed the floating bag and placed it on the table, flipping open the cover to pull out...

A large black metal coil?

Fortstable watched as the Royal Engineer looked the thing over. "I hope it meets your specifications, m'lord."

Anonymous squeezed the coil at its ends, squishing it almost flat, and then let go with one hand. The coil expanded itself back into place.

‘It's some kind of spring?’

"Seems about the right stiffness. Sorry I couldn't be more precise in my instructions -- I assumed I'd have to do a bit of tweaking myself, possibly cutting it down to size. What did you make of my other proposal?"

Now it was Fortstable's turn to pull something out, and his horn lit up as a folded-up piece of paper appeared from underneath his coat. "I think I've grasped the concept, m'lord. Here's the design we've produced. With your approval, we can begin work as soon as the Gala is over. I'm afraid for this more involved task I can't spare the workers until then."

Putting down the coil-spring, Anonymous unfolded the sheet and looked it over, then nodded again. "Seems correct to me. And I understand perfectly about the timetable, of course..."

He handed back the paper and picked up the spring once more. "I'll use this for the accelerator for now, and if the brakes work out on your end, then we can hook them up as well. Here, let me show you what I've got in store."

‘Accelerator?’

‘Brakes?’

The carriage already had brakes, though the experience almost running over Lieutenant Vi at Royal Eastern Racetrack had made it plainly obvious that they were both far too easy to accidentally leave on, what with the surprising puissance of Anonymous 'steam-engine,' as well as difficult to reset in an actual emergency. 'Accelerator' also made her think of the awkward little screw valve used to adjust the engine's power.

Maybe he was planning to rectify those problems?

But how would springs help?

All Anonymous had told Honour was that he was planning some enhancements to his 'automobile,' and she, feeling a bit exhausted and overwhelmed that morning from everything that had happened up until then, declined to press him for the details. She knew he would freely tell her his ideas if she asked, and she probably would inquire about them later.

But she was not really in the mood to ask, today.

Today, she just wanted quiet.

The Royal Engineer led Fortstable and his assistant over to another workbench and unrolled a blueprint. Honour let her attention wander, shutting their conversation out of her mind; there were already too many things galloping around up there already.

Sparkshower's impropriety.

Glamerspear's repeated outbursts.

Ebonshield's stand-out difference.

The Gala.

Honour’s dress for the Gala (‘How did Glamerspear manage to con me into that one,’ she’d thought, after looking herself over in the mirror again later in the evening).

And then there was Castlerook. And Castlerook's offer for her to return to Fillydelphia. The way he phrased it, in his usual easygoing style, it was something like a casual invitation. But something told her he intended to pursue it as a solid plan. Which meant at some point he'd stop leaving things at an awkward goodbye outside her door.

Honour still wasn’t sure how to feel about that.

And with that feeling came all the rest: her personal despair at having failed to achieve success in life, the ongoing exceptional experience of working for the Royal Engineer, the whole strange situation with the batponies, the embarrassing and exhausting training of her VIP in combat, Glamerspear's feud with Kilfeather, Anonymous' incredible flowers after her gaffe, Bitsmount somehow getting away with blaming everything on a subordinate, her alien employer's naivete about Equestrian society...

There was another knock at the door. Honour pulled it open a crack and peeked out.

It was another colt dressed in ordinary day wear -- a plain brown suit with a rough-looking bowler hat, but worn by a big earth pony, this time. Must be another one of Fortstable's employees, maybe come to check up on his master. Anonymous and the businesscolt had been chattering away at his desk for quite a few minutes, now. The Royal Engineer was trying to explain something to Mr. Forstable about springs and wheels and brakes and such, but Honour just didn’t have the concentration to follow along today.

She nodded at the new visitor. "Yes?"

He didn’t remove his hat. "I'm here for the Royal Engineer. It's a delivery."

'Must not be with Fortstable after all.'

‘Well, whatever.’

The Royal Engineer didn’t have to tell her about every package he was receiving. With that particular carriage-parts delivery, he must have suspected it could turn into a meeting.

Honour cleared her throat. "Another delivery for you, sir."

Anonymous barely looked up from where he was still discussing plans with the carriage-builder. "Sure, sure, let them in, Corporal."

She nodded at Sparkshower and they pulled the doors open in unison.

It was a bit annoying, having them open inwards. Honour always felt like her view of the visitors was always completely obscured until they stepped well into the room. Most noticeably with Her Majesty Princess Luna.

The corporal wondered when -- if -- she would visit again. Would she want a debriefing on the quaternion's experiences with her batponies, her 'Children of the Stars'? Maybe an opinion or two on where to go next with integrating them into Equestrian society? Right now, all they seemed to have was a small colony underneath Canterlot and a little work guarding the palace walls at night. Though the minotaur smith, Bronzehorn, insinuated that he'd met some of them before, and his shop was all the way out in Newcastle-upon-Mare, so some of the batponies must have permission to roam a little more widely...

Or maybe they didn't. That would be an interesting report to give.

The big, young-looking green colt in the brown suit stepped forward into the room and paused a moment before clearing his throat. "Mister Anonymous? Royal Engineer of Equestria?"

He mumbled the line a bit, the sign of an amateur delivery-pony. Same with failing to remove his hat -- not a polite thing to do. Honour also noticed he didn’t have any saddle-bags. Must just be a letter-courier. Strange to see an earth pony working that gig instead of hauling heavy cargo, though. Then again, right before the Gala was the second-busiest period of the year for the postal service -- and for every private delivery company as well. Plenty of invites being sent out, plans being made, orders being placed, after-parties and before-parties being set up. No surprise a private firm would pull their big haulers off of low-profit bulk work to put them on higher-margin letter jobs.

Anonymous looked up with a smile. "Yes, hello, that's me. Do you need me to sign for something?"

The big colt shook his head and sat down on his haunches, putting his forehooves together and fussing with them for a moment. "No, sir. To answer for something."

In the blink of an eye, there was a sharp PANG noise as the visitor absolutely whipped one of his horseshoes down at the carpeted floor between him and the Royal Engineer. The metal U-shape ricocheted up in the air before falling back down just a few hooves in front of her VIP.

‘Throwing down a horseshoe at the Royal Engineer?’

‘Now what in the violet Tartarus is this?’

Honour had her answer when there was a clattering of heavy bronze armor from the other side of the open door.

"HUCKLEBERRY?!"

‘Oh, buck.’

Reaching back for one of her javelins, Honour pushed her door closed and saw Sparkshower stepping forward. Her previously-long-distance-but-now-uncomfortably-close-distance coltfriend didn’t so much as make a single glance in her direction, keeping the Royal Engineer fixed in his gaze.

By now, Fortstable and his assistant had looked up and turned around as well. But while they were shocked by the interruption and the challenge, their VIP just looked perplexed, staring down at the iron horseshoe with a furrowed brow.

He couldn’t possibly have any idea of what just happened.

Honour hastily closed the other door as Sparkshower approached her apparently jilted lover.

"... Huckleberry, what are you doing here?!"

He just kept on ignoring her, speaking to their VIP instead. "Well, Mister Anonymous? This here's a matter of honor. Are you an honorable colt?"

Sparkshower answered before the Royal Engineer could. "Huckleberry, speak to me! What's this all about? Why are you here?!"

Finally, as Honour also stepped up behind him, he deigned to briefly look over at her. But he equally quickly snapped his eyes back up at her employer.

With a loud sniff, he licked his lips before speaking again. "You know what this is about, Mister Anonymous: you've taken somethin' that don't belong to you. I'm here for satisfaction -- that's what I want."

There was some hesitation in his voice when he spoke the second line. No surprise somepony idiotic enough to issue a challenge like this may not have entirely thought things through.

Honour sidestepped the furniture and circled around to get closer to her employer. Formal challenge or no, she was not going to take any chances with this big colt.

Sparkshower continued to harangue her beau. "What do you mean 'taken'? Is this about the Maypole? That was my mistake, Huckleberry. I asked the Royal Engineer to dance, and I didn't think through the consequences. But I changed my mind and was just about to write to tell you so."

Honour saw the green colt's jaw clench and unclench, but he maintained his firm stance, even as he finally addressed the pegasus in the room. "This don't concern you, Thunder. This is between me an' Mister Anonymous here."

Having thus been acknowledged, she stepped out in front of him, interposing herself between her angry colt and her baffled employer. "What do you mean it don't concern me?! It's about me, isn't it?"

She let a bit of her country Berry accent slip out when she sent Huckleberry's words right back at him.

"I said it's a matter of honor, Thunder. Mine, and Mister Anonymous' here." Standing up on all fours again, he lifted his head above hers and once again called out to Honour’s VIP.

"...Well, what's it going to be, Mister?"

But Sparkshower flapped her wings to get back up in front of his face. "Don't just dismiss me like that, Huckleberry! I'm not some piece of your personal property!"

Instantly, he snapped back. "Oh, so it's true, then."

Just as quickly, she reverted to pleading her case. "No, it isn't, Huckleberry, but how can I explain it when you aren't listening to me?"

He shook his head. "You don't have to explain anything. You're free to make your choice; free as a bird, if you please."

She threw her forehooves up, almost dropping her spear in the process. "But I didn't change anything! You didn't say you were coming and I made a mistake!"

Huckleberry managed a halfhearted scowl, but it became grim when he peeked around his estranged marefriend in Honour’s direction. "Not as big a mistake as your new coltfriend just made. He accepted my challenge! And I got witnesses!"

‘Oh, no, please Celestia please don't say that Anonymous picked up the horseshoe.’

Honour glanced behind her and, sure enough, the Royal Engineer was holding up the curved piece of iron like a delicate flower -- albeit at a distance from himself, as if it were a particularly foul-smelling one.

"I'm sorry, I think there's been a terrible misunderstanding here. Mister Huckleberry, is it? What's the meaning of this? What exactly are you accusing me of having done?"

The colt replied plaintively, raising his voice even more. "You know what you did, you damn dirty mare-stealing ape! Otherwise, you wouldn't have picked up my horseshoe, would you? There's witnesses here, too! It's a challenge good and proper!"

Sparkshower was too shocked by her coltfriend's name-calling to interject, and Huckleberry continued on. "Come on, you there, Mister unicorn, what's your name? This is a matter of Equestrian honor!"

Fortstable stepped forward, a weighty frown on his face and a pair of 'pince-museau' reading glasses on his muzzle. "My name's Henry Fortstable, foal. But I'm not witness to anything -- not anything legitimate, at any rate."

Huckleberry appeared confused and infuriated. "What?! You were right here, Mister Fortstable -- You heard me call him out and saw him pick it up! That means it's a duel!"

Fortstable shook his head. "Foal, I may disapprove heavily of the ancient barbaric tradition of dueling, but at least I know the rules for it."

He turned to Anonymous and nodded. "Lord Anonymous is a member of the Blue Chamber of Equestria; Celestia's privy council. I don't know your exact station in life, but I'm guessing he's well above it, and therefore within his rights to dismiss your challenge out of hoof."

Huckleberry stamped his four hooves on the ground angrily. "Yeah, maybe he can -- but he didn't! He picked it up anyways! Come on, Mister Anonymous! Are you going to rob my honor and spit in my face at the same time?"

For a green pony, he was getting pretty red in the face. This could easily escalate into a fight; Honour readied her javelin, but Sparkshower was on top of the big colt before she could do anything else.

"Your honor! Your honor?! Is that all you care about now, Huckleberry? Your honor? Since when did you get so callous?"

Huckleberry looked her straight in the eyes and deadpanned his next words. "Since you came flying away here."

The words pierced straight through Sparkshower's armor, and she dropped out of the air down to her hooves with a loud metallic clatter. "I... I came to Canterlot for you, Huckleberry! I wanted to find somewhere we could both live and work and not be so far apart all the time! Somewhere safe for a pegasus and earth pony alike!"

Huckleberry didn't reply, save for hardening his face, while his jaw clenched.

"... Why won't you answer me?"

Huckleberry looked down at Sparkshower, then up at Anonymous, then back and forth once more, before muttering to himself. "If that's the way it is, then that's the way it is..."

Finally, breathing heavily, and with a sharp sniffle to begin, he addressed himself to the Royal Engineer -- but looked at his marefriend while speaking. "...Have a care with this one, Mister Anonymous. My momma always told me not to fall in love with a pegasus, 'cause one day she'd surely fly away and break my heart. I guess she was right."

Honour heard, rather than saw, Sparkshower's jaw drop against the inside of her bassinet helmet.

"You... You..."

Her wings trembling, Sparkshower shouted up at Huckleberry. "You came all the way to Canterlot to defend your supposed honor, when you wouldn't come for your marefriend or for a career or even a golden ticket to the Grand Galloping Gala itself!" Panting heavily and with tears streaming from her eyes, she continued. "... I send you letter after letter after letter pleading to see you again, and I get nothing in reply! And when I do see you again, you won't even say hello to me?"

Even the large earth pony's imposing iron jaw seemed to be softening from the withering verbal assault. "And Lord Anonymous! He offered that Gala ticket to you and me both out of the kindness and generosity in his heart! He never treated me as anything other than a valued bodyguard -- never as a piece of property! And you come in here and throw your horseshoe down at his hooves just like that?"

Gritting her teeth, Sparkshower launched herself up into the air, twirled her spear around in the air, then dived down and slammed the butt loudly against the ground, before finally brandishing the weapon aggressively at the colt, hovering in place. "Do you want a duel with the Royal Engineer that badly? Well, I'm one of his bodyguards, and, Mister Pudding, let me tell you that you may be a big colt, but I'm still a persimmon well above your huckleberry!"

"But Thunder, he picked up my-"

She instantly prodded the spear closer towards his face. "Don't call me that when you're not acting like a friend should, Huckleberry! And don't make this about you and Anonymous when it's really about you an' me!"

Still furious, she paused her rant to wait for a reply.

Huckleberry swallowed and sniffed, but continued to scowl. "You can say what you want, Artemis, but ponies are talking back in Berry. I've been made the town fool 'cause of you an' him!"

He pointed a forehoof at Anonymous, but all Honour could think was: 'Wrong answer, buddy.'

Sparkshower shook her head, sniffling but still holding her spear steady.

"Huckleberry Pudding, I don't know if I care to see you ever again."

For once, her words seemed to have the same effect on him as his words had had so far on her, and the green colt started to lose some of his nerve.

He lost a lot more of it when she nodded her visor down across her eyes and poked her spear towards his sternum. "...In the name of Anonymous, by Appointment to Their Majesties Princess Celestia and Princess Luna, Royal Engineer of Equestria, I order you to vacate these premises immediately!"

Finally, Huckleberry yielded to the bronze armored pegasus and backed up a few hooves, followed closely by Sparkshower, before turning to grab the door handle. Facing the room one last time, he paused for a moment as if to give some parting words, but either couldn’t think of anything or decided, wisely, to keep his mouth shut.

The latch clicked softly back in place behind the big colt.

Sparkshower just floated down to the ground in front of the double doors.

Honour glanced back up at Anonymous, who nodded knowingly in Artemis’ direction.

Replacing her javelin, the corporal headed over to Sparkshower. She was panting heavily and still holding her spear at the ready.

"Artemis? Are you all right?"

There was a sniffle from within the helmet, and she raised a hoof to lift the visor. Her eyes were bloodshot and her muzzle was soaked with tears, and she spoke in a quivering voice.

"Permission to be relieved of duty, Corporal?"

Honour nodded. "You're dismissed for today, Specialist. Report to the barracks."

Sparkshower nodded, then tried to wipe the tears from her face with a foreleg -- but bronze armor wasn’t exactly the most absorbent material, so all she managed to do was smear it around. Despite that, and with nothing more than a deep breath, she leapt into the air with a surprising energy and spread her wings, twirling her spear dramatically around above her head once again. Floating above Honour, she spun around, rearing back to clang her off-hoof sabot into her visor, addressing their VIP.

"Specialist Sparkshower retiring from duty, sir. I'll be upstairs if you need me."

Anonymous nodded. "I'm sorry about what happened, Specialist. Why don't you take it easy for a while?"

Honour pulled the door open for her, and she flapped her way out of the room without so much as another sniffle.

For what that just was, she seemed to handle it pretty well. And despite lacking confidence at the beginning of the Battle of Newstirrup Bridge, Sparkshower was a pretty tough mare.

She could make it through this rough break-up, Honour was certain.

Artemis Sparkshower's theme song: Adele - Set Fire to the Rain [Thomas Gold Remix]
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1xJ76LMOg7s

Chapter 92

Lily Glamerspear

Ordinarily, two spa days in a single week was a real luxury. But it didn't feel very luxurious to Lily Glamerspear, as she lay at the edge of Spa Dalecarlia's warm pool, dangling a forehoof down the side into the water and watching her heartbroken comrade float aimlessly on her back in the center, as still as a corpse.

Sparkshower had been quiet when she’d come upstairs earlier -- too quiet, heading straight to her room with barely a hello. Sulking in her room, Lily had had to get the story from Corporal Bound at lunchtime. Honour had agreed to allow the unicorn specialist to haul her comatose comrade out of bed and straight to the spa -- provided they both stuck around until two o'clock to see if Major General Hoofstrong would call a meeting that day. When the hour had come and no messenger had yet arrived, Lily gently barged into Sparkshower's room, spa membership card floating above her head, and ordered Artemis to accompany her.

She hadn't so much as uttered a peep in complaint.

Or, any peep at all, for that matter.

‘Is this even doing anything for her?’

Sparks didn’t want a massage or preening, she didn't want the hot tub, and she didn’t want the sauna. Apparently, she just wanted to... float.

...in the pool.

It was a bit concerning. If there was anypony else around, they might be worried, too. But it was a Friday, and the Gala was next weekend, and Celestia was still holding the weekend day court sessions that pulled in the masses from across Equestria. As a result, anypony who could get out of Canterlot had gotten out of Canterlot, and anypony still in the city probably had something better to do than to sit at the spa in the early afternoon.

Heck, on a day like this, even in the Canterlot Royal Guard, half the officers who didn't have weekend duty were already out the door. The other half would tell their sergeants after lunch to let everypony waiting on standby go for libo at four o'clock sharp, while they themselves promptly headed for the nearest family villa, private club, upscale saloon, or theater-slash-bawdy-stable well before then. So, no surprise they were alone and in private within the bath-halls of the public spa. Things were likely to pick up in an hour or two, though, when most ponies closed up their businesses for the evening -- or the weekend.

Suddenly, there was a tiny splash from the pool, and Lily saw Sparkshower lift one of her wings a few inches, before dropping it down again.

‘Well, it's a start.’

"How you doing over there, Sparks?"

There was no reply but a deep breath. That was a bit of a snub to her, but considering everything that's happened, Lily could hardly blame her.

First love and first break-up -- and what a break-up!

Previously incommunicado coltfriend makes sudden, unannounced arrival and challenges the Royal Engineer to a duel for Sparkshower's hoof! It'd almost be romantic if it wasn't so wrong-headed. And if, according to Honour, the colt hadn't seemed more intent on fighting than on winning back his marefriend's love.

Lily swished her forehoof around in the pool.

"... You wanna talk about what happened at all?"

Again, there was nothing but another deep breath in response.

It was maybe a little more of a sigh, though, so Lily lifted her head up a bit and carried on. "It can help to talk about it, if you want."

There was nothing from Artemis -- not even a pointed breath.

The unicorn shrugged and splashed her hoof around some more, like a fishing cat. "But if you don't wanna quite yet, that's fine, too. I'm just sayin' I'm here for you, Sparks -- ya know what I mean?"

There was a pause, but then she heard Artemis speak -- though the pegasus didn’t move a single other muscle. "I know. And I'm glad you're here for me, Lily. But I don't want to talk about it yet..."

Without making even the slightest ripple in the surface, she turned her head towards Glamerspear.

"... I'm still trying to come to terms with it myself."

Lily nodded. "Sure, of course..."

Sparkshower looked back up at the ceiling, again seeming to do so without disturbing the water at all.

Semi-unintentionally, Lily found herself thinking back to a long time ago. ...Well, it was actually just five years, but hey, that was almost a quarter of her life; she’d done a lot since then, and it sure felt like that was a long time ago. But this particular memory still stung on those occasions when it bubbled up to the surface.

With a sigh, Lily spoke up. "The first break-up always hurts the most, I can tell you that."

She hadn't been as deeply involved with her colt as Sparkshower had been with hers. Nor had her relationship gone on for nearly as long. But she didn't think those details really altered the pain very much. It was just the ending that hurt; the ending of something that could've lasted forever. The ending of innocence, maybe.

There was a tiny splash from the water as Sparkshower pushed one of her hind hooves out slightly.

‘Ah, so that's what she's doing.’

Looking up at the ceiling, Artemis was using the patterns in the mosaic tile to align herself in the pool, keeping station in the absolute dead center, regardless of the subtle flows of water from the recirculation pumps or from Lily’s aimless splashing. A kind of mind-clearing exercise, the unicorn supposed. Focusing on a simple task to forget about her troubles.

Despite that meditative focus, however, Artemis spoke up. "What was your first time like?"

‘Well, painful awkward memory or no, I asked for this.’

Thankfully, there wasn’t much to tell.

"It was a high school crush. He was a senior, I was a junior. We started seeing each other in the fall." She tried to force out a chuckle, but it didn’t sound particularly authentic. "...Heh. I was foalish, and I thought it meant more to him than just the kissing in-between classes, or the snuggles after school, or the trysts in Central Park -- at lunchtime, after supper, and almost every weekend."

Lily shrugged. "But it didn't -- or maybe it did, for a while, and he just changed his mind about it or about me. Either way, after a steamy fall and a tender winter, he chilled on me in the spring."

Swinging her free forehoof back and forth, Lily sent some more ripples Sparkshower's way, giving her something for her to think about other than just her own problems and her comrade’s foalish first romance.

"I thought it was just his nerves from prepping for the exams, and maybe it was a bit of that. But while he started increasingly cancelling our meet-ups, he also started hanging around the senior mares as well."

Sure enough, Lily’s minute, watery vibrations forced Sparkshower to pick one of her own wings up and then drop it down again to compensate.

"The exams came and went, but he got frostier than ever. Things finally came to a head when he told me a week before the senior prom that he'd be bringing somepony else."

Perhaps sensing that this was the really juicy bit, which it was, Artemis turned her head in Lily’s direction once more.

The unicorn swallowed and pulled her forehoof up. "...There was an ugly fight between us that night, and if I'm being honest, I did most of the fighting and most of the uglying."

Smiling awkwardly, she snorted. "He didn't wind up looking so good in his prom photos with that black eye that took two weeks to heal up... But I'm still the one who ran away in tears from him. And it took me the same two weeks to bring myself to show my muzzle around school and talk to just about anypony again."

And thus began her long and exciting descent into a career in the Royal Guard! All because she managed to win a dirty high-school mage-duel -- well, mage-brawl, really -- against a unicorn colt a year older than her.

Sparkshower was still looking in her direction. "Did your older brothers do anything?"

‘Of course she remembered my outburst yesterday morning.’

But, it was good to know the break-up hadn’t ruined Artemis’ powers of observation and memory.

Lily shook her head. "No. My ex had suffered enough at my horn; they knew he didn't need more punishment, and anyways they weren't really into fighting like that."

She thought back to how, before the breaking point, they'd kept pushing her to stay home and join in their stupid nerdy table games instead heading out to call on her love when he'd already told her he was busy and to stay away. It had seemed like obnoxious interference at the time, but in retrospect...

"... I think they saw the break-up coming, though. And they'd tried, in their own clumsy, ways, to make it so I'd get out easily."

Lily chuckled, and this time, it was genuine. "Heh. It didn't really work, though. I don't think they quite realized until then what a Tartarean fury their little sister could be." Nodding, she continued. "But they respected my need for some private time, and they helped me out -- in the small, tender ways that tell you when somepony really cares for you."

"What're those?"

‘Ooh, that's a loaded question.’

Lily probably shouldn't have started to talk so much about her own family. Sparkshower didn't have any immediate siblings to lean on as Lily did -- well, not outside of her brothers & sisters in the Equestrian Royal Guard, anyways. Hopefully those would do, though.

The unicorn shrugged. "You know, little things. Bringing water and food when it wasn't even asked for. Taking care of my laundry and cleaning up my room when I was out -- again, without asking. Even showing up at my school and getting homework and notes from my teachers."

Sighing, Lily started to think fondly about those three dorky brothers of hers. She did love those freakin' dweebs.

‘Oughtta take a trip back to Manehattan and visit them again soon…’

"...Just... making sure I didn't fall completely apart, ya know? Making it so I could deal with my heartache without losing my place in the world." Once again, Lily chortled to herself. "Heh, ya know... I know I'm not the most fastidious mare in Equestria at the best of times; I know my quarters aren't as neat as they could be, but mare, when I'm feeling down the dumps, you can really see it... and you can smell it a couple of days later, too!"

That actually got a little chuckle out of Sparkshower, too. It was good to hear her project a little emotion.

Glamerspear nodded in her direction. "Some ponies, I know, are the opposite, though. Something bad happens that they don't want to deal with, they get all fussy about the little details as a way of coping. I knew a mare who rearranged all the furniture in her room twelve times in almost as many hours when she was going through a breakup." Smirking, she dropped her forehoof back down into the pool and sent a splash Sparkshower's way. "...Some of 'em stare up at the mosaic ceiling in Spa Dalecarlia's warm pool and count the number of tiles that're up there, even."

Artemis didn’t miss a beat in replying. "I lost count at ten thousand one hundred and fifty-three, and I didn't even get out of the main spiral. I didn't feel like restarting."

‘Damn.’

‘No wonder this mare earned herself an early promotion.’

While everypony else was hollering about getting overrun by innumerable hordes of changelings, she probably managed to scout a whole swarm of them and report back with their exact number -- minus casualties inflicted, of course.

Lily smiled. "It's okay. So long as you don't ask to come back again every day until you can manage the exact count."

Artemis snorted, and Lily chuckled, but then the sauna door at the back of the room swung open with a creak. Three pegasus mares stepped in and looked like they were heading for the pools.

‘Darn, and just when I was starting to manage a connection.’

Oh, well; an interruption was bound to happen anyways.

As the winged ponies stepped over to the shower alcoves to wash the sauna-induced sweat out of their coats, Lily couldn’t help but notice one of them staring in her direction. She seemed to discreetly point the unicorn out to her companions.

‘Now what the buck is this?’

Friends of Lieutenant Kilfeather, on the lookout for her, maybe? Not that Valiant really had 'friends,' but he did have a crew. And that included a pack of mares who were every bit as awful as he was. Whoever they were, Lily resolved to ignore them for now. If they wanted to start something in the baths, well, three pegasi against one unicorn with a shell-shocked comrade in the water wasn't exactly fair odds. But with low ceilings and slippery floors, nopony was going to get the drop on her.

Still, the calm and friendly moment was ruined -- for Lily, at least. She tried to think of what to say to Sparkshower once the three gawkers finally got on with their own business. Would it be better to analyze the past, or focus on next steps first? Did she feel undesirable as a result of the breakup? Lily had sure felt that way five years ago, and it's partly what led her down the path of a saltine, but then, Artemis’ situation was different. Maybe she should take her out tomorrow night? See if Mailedhoof would help her get the pegasus into the Officer's Club as well, as a filly-friend?

...Eh... probably a bit too full of drunken officers. It could get uncomfortably hoofsy in there.

Should they go see a show? It wasn’t really Lily’s thing, but before the implications were explained to the pegasus -- and after it turned out there weren't actually any intended implications at all -- she’d said she'd had a good time with Anonymous at the Sardinia. A good comedy could help cheer her up. Ooh, or how about something a little more punchy and in-the-moment? Several music-halls and taverns did run little comedy revues in the evenings...

Or did she want to think about next weekend, the Gala? Lily barely had any time to shop for accessories with her! Artemis’ dress just needed a teeny-tiny bit more adjusting before it was ready, which she could easily finish that night and tomorrow morning, and then she could take Sparks out with it and find the last touches that would make her filly-friend a proper Gala mare? Even if she didn't want to shop, though, Lily really ought to finish her dress soon.

"Pardon me for interrupting, but would you be Specialist Artemis Sparkshower of the Royal Guard?"

‘Son of a three-headed Tartarean hound, it's those three pegasi from the sauna and the showers!’

They were all standing at the opposite edge of the pool; it was the oldest-looking one in the middle who had spoken, a mare in her mid-thirties, with a distinctly Canterlot accent.

Sparkshower turned towards the newcomers, still floating in solitude. "Yes?"

The speaker smiled pleasantly, while her companion on the left grinned and nodded, and the one on the right just stared at Sparkshower, looking her over like a butcher might look at a piece of meat.

"I do apologize, Miss Sparkshower, but when Captain Goldenfoil pointed you out to me, I felt compelled to come over and speak to you. Could you possibly spare me a moment of your time?"

‘Captain Goldenfoil?’

‘What are they, the ponice?’

Did Sparkshower's ex file charges of assault against her for how he'd been driven out at spear-point?

Lily rose to her hooves, indignant. "And just who are you supposed to be?"

The mare gave Lily a slight bow, pressing a forehoof to her chest. "Major Amberline Growler, Lady of House Growler, commander of the Royal Guard First Air Division's Third Armored Battalion, 'Valkyries.'" Rising up, she smiled down at Sparkshower, whose mouth had dropped open to match her wide eyes. "I believe we met earlier today, Miss Sparkshower."

This time, there was no little splash, but a full tidal wave as Lily’s floating comrade instantly flipped over and thrashed her way airborne out of the pool to render a mid-air hovering salute. "Major Growler, ma'am!"

‘Sweet Sun-raising Celestia, Sparkshower, the major's in civvies and this is a spa, not the Canterlot Palace parade grounds.’

You can take every pony out of the uniform, but some, you can't take the uniform out of...

Growler and her entourage politely returned Sparkshower's salute, but then the Major smiled. "Please, Specialist, there's no need for formalities here. We're all civilians at the moment."

Lowering her salute, Growler waved a hoof towards the loungers. "But, I would greatly appreciate it if you could grant me the privilege of a brief audience?"

‘She's reached levels of politeness that shouldn't even be possible.’

A Major -- and a noble one, at that; she did say Lady Amberline -- requesting the privilege of an audience with a lowly specialist? As Sparkshower flapped over to solid ground, Lily went and joined her.

Artemis seemed to be just as confused as Lily was by the situation, as the befuddled pegasus spoke up. "Uhm... Of course, Major. What can I do for you, ma'am?"

‘Well, she met the mare earlier, didn't she?’

‘In the Watchtower, presumably?’

‘Did something weird happen there?’

Lady Growler bowed her head again. "Miss Sparkshower, I have come to realize that this morning I did you a great disservice by accusing you of espionage. My plan was to send you an appropriate card expressing my regrets, but finding you here, I thought I might render my apology in person, if you'll permit it."

Lily blinked and did a double-take.

‘What kind of noblepony major apologizes to a specialist?’

Sparkshower actually glanced in Lily’s direction, but she didn't have any answers for her. "Oh... There's really no need to apologize, Lady Growler. I completed my mission to deliver a message, after all. And I'm sorry for having intruded on the Major General's briefing."

Growler frowned amiably. "Nonsense, Miss Sparkshower! A gentlemare always settles her debts. And, after I made some enquiries into your personnel file, I realized that I owe you rather considerably, as do my Valkyries."

‘Things just get weirder and weirder.’

Sparkshower screwed up her eyebrows. "Ma'am?"

The noble major continued with a smile. "Of course, I doubt you knew it at the time, but by defeating Lieutenant Kilfeather and his associates at Newstirrup Bridge, you all but guaranteed that my top squadron of Valkyries would be the shoo-in favorites to win this summer's MXP Games."

‘Ah, so that's what this is all about.’

It wasn’t an apology for a military mistake, but a noblepony's tribute to an ally. Those, at least, could cross social boundaries. Heck, it was the most common way for non-noble ponies to become officers in the Royal Guard, before the Royal Artillery School and, more significantly, the Royal Officer Academy was founded.

Growler looked in the unicorn’s direction. "May I take it that you, miss, are Specialist Lily Glamerspear?"

She nodded. "That's me, ma'am."

Sitting down, she extended her forehooves wide. “'Nemo nisi per Amicitiam cognoscitur', Centurion. Embrace me as your Tribune."

'No one learns except by Friendship,' the motto of the Order of the Ram. And this old-fashioned noblemare was a Tribune, the next rank up from Lily -- and one reserved for nobleponies, at that? Well, it was hardly a surprise that the commanding officer of the famed Valkyries would be a member. As required by the order's rules, Lily stepped forward and put her forelegs around her in a hug, retiring only when she released her.

"Ah, Centurion. By plucking Kilfeather's wings you have tilted the golden scales of justice in our favor. I salute you."

Lily knew that this was exactly how nobleponies behaved -- or were supposed to behave, at any rate. But it was still really, really, really weird to see it in person -- and in a public spa's pool-room, to boot.

"If you'll excuse my asking, Tribune... what are you doing in the Spa Dalecarlia?"

Growler cocked an eyebrow. "You mean, as opposed to one of Canterlot's more exclusive establishments?"

Exchanging knowing glances with her associates, she continued. "I'm afraid that as Equestria's grand capital city is run by the five-limbed variety of pony, facilities here often do not cater appropriately to those ponies with four or six."

It was true that unicorns, the ponies with 'five limbs,' basically ran Canterlot. But she surely couldn't be saying that a private club would refuse a 'six-limbed' pegasus, could she? Lily felt certain she'd have heard about it if it were true. She must have some other complaint.

"I have a membership with a private club in Cloudsdale, of course. And it provides me with associate access to its exclusive partner here in Canterlot. But the staff at these otherwise excellent establishments simply do not understand how to give proper massages to a pegasus, nor how to properly preen a client. Whereas here... Miss Sparkshower, I do hope you've engaged the services of the resident griffon masseuse, miss Pogranichovna?"

OK, now, her presence made a lot more sense. Elite ponies being picky about the quality of their servants? Everyday occurrence in Equestria. The Major probably similarly pooh-poohed most restaurants here as well.

Sparkshower nodded her head. "Yes, I had a massage from Nina on my first visit. She's very skilled."

The three pegasus mares nodded almost in unison as Growler carried on theatrically. "And that's why you've come back, isn't it? The griffonese masseuse? Goodness, but she knows how to wring every last drop of exhaustion out of you, doesn't she? Having one's wings attended to by her expert claws and beak is akin to being in the tender loving embrace of the Sun-Princess herself, I imagine."

The Major composed herself, putting on a stern face. "You know, Miss Sparkshower, since the Valkyries were first founded, one rule has been kept above all others: 'Everypony fights. No-one quits. Anypony who breaks formation to flee will be speared by the commander herself.' I say this to you only to make it clear that I, too, require her attentions. Why, I recommend the Spa Dalecarlia to all of my soldiers -- officers and enlisted alike." She gestured at the pony on her left with a wing. "Otherwise, Sergeant Major Treechopper wouldn't know about this place either, would you, Morgan?"

The indicated pegasus shook her head and answered in a heavy lower-class Cloudsdale accent. "Nae I wouldn't, Growler."

With her intonation, it sounded a little more like 'Growl-Ah' when she said the major's name.

Turning back to Sparkshower, Growler paused for a moment to look her over. It was strange -- Lily had never really seen Sparkshower in the company of several other pegasi without her armor on. The chow hall, literal zoo that it was, didn’t really count, because everypony was bustling around instead of standing still. Plus, they were mostly sitting down in there.

But standing inside before these three Valkyries, it became apparent once again just how tall Artemis was for a pegasus -- and how well-built she was, too. It'd been obvious when shopping for dresses, of course, but a mare being frustrated that sizes didn't fit right was hardly a novel experience. Sometimes it seemed like nopony made clothing that fit any mares at all. But seeing Sparkshower towering a full head over two of these pegasi, and half a head over the third, really put her dimensions in perspective. The Valkyries were, after all, some of the strongest pegasi in the Equestrian Royal Guard. A whole battalion of mares, all flying around in heavy bronze plate armor.

Growler lifted an eyebrow and nodded at Treechopper. "Well, Morgan, what do you think of Miss Sparkshower now that you've had a look at her? I trust in your discerning eyes."

Treechopper nodded, looking up at Lily’s big pegasus comrade. "Absolute unit, Growler. I'm in awe at the size o' this mare."

Sparkshower's cheeks turned a bit red, and she seemed to hunch down a bit to try to lower her height, but the noblepony didn’t seem to notice, and carried right on. "I wonder, miss Sparkshower. Why become a 19D Armored Scout, instead of a 19K Armored Infantry? And to have requested a posting in the Fourth Armored Regiment? We would have been pleased to have you swear the 'Immaculate Pledge' of the Valkyries, I should think."

Awkwardly scratching at one foreleg with the other forehoof, Sparkshower replied. "Er, well... I enjoyed photography, and I didn't really know how I felt about being in heavy combat... and I wanted to be stationed closer to home... and the signing bonus was a lot bigger for a 19D."

The major nodded approvingly. "Sensible, sensible... Of course, we have a few 19Ds in the Valkyries as well, but they're in such demand that we don't often get first crack at new recruits unless they specifically request to try for us."

Sighing, she collected herself. "The reason I ask, besides my interest in the betterment of my battalion, is to ensure I repay my debt to you properly. It's a matter of honor, you see."

Instantly, Sparkshower rolled her head and slumped her shoulders. "Not another matter of honor!"

Her outburst shocked the three Valkyries, and while Lily’s comrade nearly crumpled to the ground as the weight of this morning's events crashed down on her, her unicorn comrade stepped up to lend a hoof in pulling her back up.

"It's kinda a long story, Tribune. A personal thing came up this morning. Coltfriend problems, you understand?"

Once Sparkshower was back on her hooves, albeit looking much less collected than before, Growler spoke up again, frowning. "Well, I certainly don't wish to pry into your personal affairs, Miss Sparkshower. But I suspect I may know what may be ailing you. May I offer some words of advice, from a senior pony to a junior?"

Swallowing deeply and still a bit shaky, Artemis nodded, and Growler continued. “It is often said among nobles -- by colts, of course, but by many mares as well -- that only colts have 'honor.' That this abstract attribute is exclusively masculine, and that although mares may also serve in the Royal Guard, only colts may gain honor by valorous behavior on the field of battle and by proper behaviour in society, as they may lose it by cowardice and impropriety."

Sparkshower lifted her head a bit as the Major continued. "Mares, by contrast, are said to have only 'shame' instead, a property which is given to them at birth and may never be increased but only reduced, either by the machinations of lechers or by their own supposedly sinful impulses. And it is a property which must be defended at all costs by those colts who do not wish to lose 'honor,' whether they are linked to the mare by blood or merely by love."

Growler shook her head. "I suppose that perhaps your coltfriend subscribes to the same theorem, and this is why you recoiled at my mention of the word 'honor.' But, as the commander of one of the fiercest battalions in the Royal Guard, and as a member of the Cloudsdale noble House of Growler, I say that it is utter, utter nonsense."

Sneering, she looked around as if the targets of her scorn were present and heckling. "Those who believe and promulgate such beliefs are the same ponies who, if asked to name Equestria's greatest mage, would reply immediately with 'Starswirl the Bearded,' as if Her Majesty Princess Celestia, the immortal sovereign who has guided and watched over our great nation for over a thousand years, simply did not exist. It is sheer folly."

To be honest, Lily might've named Starswirl as well. Nothing against Princess Celestia, of course; and, upon reflection, her accomplishments were incredible. Nopony living in Equestria was as good a mage as she was. But it was hard to tell epic stories about somepony who was still alive.

Starswirl, by contrast, was dead, and maybe that's why he was such a big name.

Plus, the Princess wasn't just a great sorcerer -- she was also a great ruler! That made it hard to think of her as just a 'mage.' Though Lily could probably think of a few famous generals who might beat her out on a list of Equestria's greatest leaders, again from ancient history.

On her left, Sparkshower seemed to have regained her composure, and Growler looked her up and down. "Do not allow others -- be they colts or mares -- to use prevailing customs to define you, Specialist. Rise above and meet their challenge. You are an honorable mare who deserves to be treated as such. Do you understand?"

Sparkshower nodded hesitantly, and Growler smiled knowingly at Captain Goldenfoil on her right. "Well, now. This has been a pleasant conversation. Having rendered my apology and spoken with you for a while, I now think I have some idea of how to make the remainder of my amends. You are billeted in Canterlot Palace, are you not?"

Artemis licked her lips before replying. "Yes, Major Growler."

The noblepony officer nodded approvingly. "Capital, capital. May I ask if you have ever found a noblepony indebted to you on some prior occasion?"

Sparkshower shook her head, and Growler indicated Captain Goldenfoil with a wing. "No? Then, as you are not noble-born, I shall ask the good captain to explain some matters of etiquette to you, and take my leave. The three of us have prior appointments with Miss Pogranichovna, you see, and I should not wish to miss mine for all the clouds in the sky! Farewell, Miss Sparkshower and Miss Glamerspear."

Sparkshower snapped to attention like she was still in bucking 'shoe camp. "Major, ma'am!"

Lily supposed she owed Growler a salute as a Centurion of the Order as well. "Tribune."

The Major gave a polite curtsy and, followed closely by her senior NCO, exited the pool-room, leaving only Captain Goldenfoil behind. She immediately launched into a hasty brief.

"Specialist Sparkshower, Major Lady Growler has authorized me, as her chief of staff, to ensure that you receive a token of her appreciation. This gift will satisfy the debt of honor that Her Ladyship owes you. Such gifts are common among nobleponies when the deficit has been caused primarily by the receipt of a good deed rather than the giving of an offense, as with the present case. I will arrange for the Major's gift to be delivered to your quarters tonight."

The captain lifted an eyebrow. "You should know that this object was selected specifically for you, after I reviewed your file with the major. It is of some considerable value, perhaps even in excess of the debt owed, but it is being given in the hope that you will repay the kindness by favoring the major in the future. However, if you are discomfited by the magnitude of Her Ladyship's beneficence, it would be proper to return the gift to her, via my office, within a reasonable time frame -- on the order of a month or two, with your profoundest apologies and thanks. Beyond that point, you may return the gift only if you feel the major has given offense or if Her Ladyship's name brings shame upon your person; otherwise, you would cause offense yourself. These are the rules of correct behavior. Do you understand what I've just said, Specialist Sparkshower?"

Artemis nodded, but spoke up. "Yes, but may I ask a question, Captain?"

"Certainly."

"Why did the major have me arrested as a spy as soon as the briefing was over? I know I wasn't supposed to be in there, but it seemed to be a low-security meeting, with no guards at the doors, and I did have permission to be in the Watchtower."

Goldenfoil flexed her wings and flared her nostrils, but it seemed to be borne out of frustration rather than anger. "Because the Watchtower has been infiltrated, Specialist. We don't know who or how, but the reports of missing documents, suspicious personnel lurking in restricted areas, and unexplained noises and shadows are too numerous to be ignored. Somepony, or someponies, are sneaking in, and doing so with worrying regularity." Sneering, she shook her head. "That's why the Major sent me to contact the General's ADC as soon as the meeting was over. And why you were hauled in as soon as you exited the room; we had guards watching you inside as well. With the Gala coming up, and with the unspecified threats to it, we weren't taking any chances."

Sounded like somepony's playing pranks in the Watchtower to Lily. Maybe one of the all-unicorn 'corn-field' battalions stationed in the Watchtower decided to have some fun messing around with the First Air Division's pegasi. There were an awful lot of illusionists in Canterlot's anti-air gunnery brigades, and they were all mischief-making rascals, every last one of them.

What was that about a threat to the Gala, though?

Before Lily could think about it, Captain Goldenfoil turned to her. "Centurion Glamerspear, the Major also authorized me to provide you with a small token of her appreciation as well. I am the executive coach for our MXP Games team, so the job you did on Lieutenant Kilfeather puts you in my good book too, and I insisted upon a reward when we saw you here with Miss Sparkshower. However, we were at a loss to determine an appropriate recompense on such short notice. Her Ladyship the Major therefore requests that you consider her able to perform for you some small favor of your asking, at the time of your choosing. I have noted this in her records, and you may come to me directly if you believe that your request will not require her personal attention. Is that understood?"

‘Neat, a noblepony's get-out-of-trouble-free card.’

Lily had always wanted one of those.

Smiling, she saluted the captain. "Yes, Captain. Thank you."

Goldenfoil smiled. "No, thank you both. With 'Icepone' and 'Joker' out of the way, the Valkyries will sweep the skies at the MXP Games. I'll make sure you have tickets to the event -- on top of the gift and the favor, of course."

Returning her salute, the Captain turned to leave, but then paused and looked back at Glamerspear and Sparkshower. "...Oh, and Miss Sparkshower. Do take care with the major's gift. It can have a temper of its own. Under no circumstances should you experiment with it inside Her Majesty's palace, is that understood?"

"Yes, Captain!"

Lily turned to Sparkshower once the Captain left, her comrade's final answer echoing around the tiled room. "A temper of its own? And don't use it indoors? What the buck is she sending you, a barrel of gunpowder from the Watchtower's magazines?"

Artemis frowned. "I... I don't know. Unless..."

Suddenly, her face brightened up. "... Oh, clear skies and sunshine... I think I do know! Let's get back as soon as we can, I want to be there when it arrives!"

Chapter 93

Lily Glamerspear

Specialist Lily Glamerspear was pretty confused about what, exactly, Sparkshower's coping mechanisms were. At first, after the big break-up, she was comatose, arriving upstairs without a word, skipping lunch, and remaining incredibly quiet even as Lily insisted on taking her out. Then, she seemed to lose herself in minutiae, counting the tiles in the mosaic ceiling above the Spa Dalecarlia's indoor pool.

But, with the promise of some kind of gift from the pegasus noblemare, Major Amberline Growler, commander of the Valkyries, she’d swung completely over to the hyperactive side.

Artemis had hustled Lily out of the spa faster than anyone had ever been hustled out of a spa before. She'd immediately booked it back to the palace, alighting at every corner only just long enough for the unicorn to catch up before she burst ahead once more. By the time they arrived back at the complex of buildings Lily presently called 'home,' she was more worn out than after one of Anonymous' late-night 'jogs.'

‘Is this what Sparkshower can do when she’s not laden with the burden of armor?’

Anyways, after all that double-quick marching to get back to their quarters before Major Growler's mysterious gift arrived, what did Artemis go and do, her heartbroken pegasus fillyfriend? She declared that she was absolutely famished! ‘No duh, Sparks, that's what happens when you fly around all morning, and then skip lunch, and then race back to the castle at warp speed!’

Before Lily even got to rest her plot for ten seconds on the sofa, it was another race to the chow hall, which was surprisingly busy -- lots of guardsponies looking to get a quick, early snack before leaving on libo. It wasn't so busy that they had to push or shove, but it still took a few minutes to find a table, even with a wildmare recon pegasus floating overhead.

When the unicorn did finally seat herself, relieving her aching hooves, Lily’s pegasus quaternion-mate sat down as well with a plate so full she could have sworn Artemis had just grabbed the whole buffet stand. And then she ate it all, too! A filly who could stuff all that down her gullet oughtta... well, never mind. Now was definitely not the right time for that kind of playful innuendo. Lily was following her comrade around in order to provide emotional support, after all.

Finally, after the gallop to the palace, and the other gallop to the enlisted mess, and the metaphorical gallop to stuff her face with a meal, and the third, actual, real gallop out of the mess hall, Lily was finally, finally, back in her quarters at their shared apartment.

It was almost four o'clock, too; time for the shift change.

Sparkshower blasted through the door so fast that Lily didn’t even see her work the handle, and as the white-painted, elegantly-decorated wooden slab clonked angrily into the rubber stop on the inside wall, the unicorn was half-worried Artemis had knocked the thing completely off its hinges. Lily hustled up to catch her and stepped inside the common room, finding the pegasus zipping around.

"Is it here? Did it come yet?"

Before anypony could answer, she darted into her own bedroom, blowing through that second door like a hurricane. Seconds later, an unusually startled-looking Sergeant Ebonshield, dressed for duty, stepped out of the washroom.

"¿Qué? Is what here, Specialist?"

Eb barely managed to get the last word out before Sparkshower came screaming out of her room again like she'd been lit on fire. "The package! The delivery! I'm expecting something very important from somepony just as important! Did anything come for me, Sergeant?"

Ebonshield shook her head, still confused. "No, nothing has come, and I have been here since just after mid-day."

Defeated, Artemis finally started to calm down from her frenzied pace, dropping to her hooves. "Oh, trowal! I thought it'd certainly be here and we could go out and try it before the sun sets tonight... But I guess testing it may have to wait until tomorrow."

Lily narrowed her eyes. "Testing it? Sparks, you don't even know what it is."

Instantly, she brightened back up again. "Yes I do! Or, at least, I think I do!"

"Oh, yeah? What is it, then?"

Sitting on her haunches, the eager pegasus tapped her forehooves together. "Well, Major Amberline Growler is the leader of the Valkyries, and she's from the Cloudsdale Growlers -- you know who they are, right?"

Lily shook her head. "Never heard of 'em. Though, I tend to pay more attention to Canterlot noble families than ones from Cloudsdale."

Not that Lily had anything particularly against pegasus nobleponies, or even pegasi in general, but when it came to her choice in salt-licks, thrifty Cloudsdale colts couldn't compare to free-spending Canterlot elite or even the landed earth pony gentry. Besides, everypony knew Canterlot was the style and fashion capital of Equestria, with Manehattan coming in second. Cloudsdale barely even made the list.

Sparkshower pointed a hoof in her direction. "You may not have heard the family name, Lily, but I bet you'd recognize their property; you served us some last Wednesday, when we got to know Sergeant Ebonshield over some bottles of 'Maestra Cazador.' The Growler family owns the Dragoon brewery in Cloudsdale -- as in Dragoon Pale Ale."

LIly raised her eyebrows. "Really? Huh. I wouldn't have figured Major Growler for a brewery heiress."

Sparkshower nodded. "That's because the Growler family is more famous for their soldiering; every generation of Growlers has served with distinction in the Royal Guard. The Dragoon brewery was founded by Barclay 'Blondie' Growler who was wounded and honorably discharged while serving in the Princess' Dragoons almost two hundred years ago, hence the beer's name."

‘Hmm…’

That made Lily wonder what she would name her drink if she retired and founded a brewery -- or a distillery, or maybe even a winery. She could do without the heroic injury, though. Just the heroism would be good enough for her.

"Okay, okay, so they're a big name. What does that have to do with Lady Amberline's gift to you?"

Sergeant Ebonshield perked up a little bit upon hearing the reason for Sparkshower's excitement, but she didn’t interrupt, allowing the pegasus to answer Glamerspear.

"As a result of such a long history of service, the Growler family is also famous for having amassed a considerable collection of arms and armor. And it was a Growler -- Griselda 'Ginny' Growler -- who petitioned Princess Celestia to found the mares-only Valkyries battalion, donating some of the Growler family collection of weapons for use by their top soldiers."

Sitting up straight, she continued, a look of awe in her distant expression. "All the Valkyries of the elite First platoon of 'A' company, Major Amberline Growler included, are equipped with an heirloom ancestral spear and magic helmet."

"Spear and magic helmet?"

"Spear and magic helmet!"

"Magic helmet?"

"Yes, a magic helmet! And if that's what she's given me, I'll give you a sample! Valkyrie magic helmets are said to be able to control weather with the merest thought, or to ward off the most devastating blows, or even to suppress other spells around them..."

Wings spread wide, she gestured with her forelegs. "...And the spears are no less impressive, either, said to be capable of shooting lightning, or of instantly returning to your hoof after being thrown, or are even capable of aiming themselves at targets and never missing."

She clapped her forehooves together and inhaled deeply, looking up reverently at the ceiling. "That's what I think Major Growler is giving me, or else why make such a big deal about it like she and Captain Goldenfoil did? And that's why I'm so excited! Joining the Valkyries was a childhood fantasy. This'll be like being an honorary member!"

Turning back to the unicorn, Artemis quickly got back down on all fours. "Lily, do you know how to use a camera? If it's still light out when the gift arrives, I want to go outside to take some photos to send to my family!"

Lily shrugged. "I mean... Sorta, yeah. Look in the window, make sure you're in it, push the button, and then twist the windy-thing, right?"

Her answer seemed to dismay the pegasus somewhat. "Well, it's more complicated than that, at least with a nice camera like I have. There's focus and aperture and shutter speed and... Oh, but I can set that all up for you ahead of time. Yes, all you'd need to do is just what you said! Let me go get it ready right now."

Without waiting for a reply, she zipped into her room and shut the door. "Nopony come in while I'm preparing! I'll be handling film, so I don't want any stray light!"

‘How long is she gonna be this energetic for?’

Lily wasn’t sure if she could keep up. Maybe Honour could tag her out if it kept going late.

Standing beside the beleaguered specialist, Ebonshield cleared her throat. "Well, this is interesting. I am now curious about this gift, and the circumstances behind it. But it is time for me to go and relieve the Corporal Bound; I will have to find out tomorrow, or perhaps later tonight, if anyone is still awake when my duties are finished."

Something about Valkyries and their magic hats and super spears made Lily think back to the fantastic performance that the batpony 'Balladeer of Ghosts,' Ignacio Blazon, gave them with his animated sand-creatures. How he did it was still a frustrating mystery to her, but maybe the sergeant could give her a clue with that...

"Sarge, can I ask you a question before you go?"

She stopped and politely turned to face Lily, but -- thankfully -- didn’t get all up in her snout. "Of course. What is it?"

The unicorn raised her eyebrows pleadingly. "Do you know anything about the kind of magic that Ignacio used? He asked me to try to figure it out, but I'm kinda stumped."

Ebonshield smirked. "Oh, you are? Interesting. I think it will amuse him to hear that you, a unicorn, could not comprehend his magic."

Lily frowned at that. "Why's that? He's, like, twice my age; there's plenty of older unicorn mages trotting around Canterlot with tricks I'd have trouble figuring out on my own without some more experience under my yoke, or at least some clues."

The batpony nodded. "Yes, of course. But you must understand, although the Children of the Stars have been taught that our form is the most superior out of all the kinds of pony, we have also been taught to beware the unicorn magic most powerful. It is said that even the spells of our Eclipse can compete with the speed and the power of the unicorns only through the preparation most thorough."

‘What?’

"I don't get it. Batponies think they're the best pony, except they're not?"

Ebonshield shook her head. "No, no, we do think ourselves best, but it is because of our combination of traits." Extending a wing, she elaborated. "We are not as swift as the pegasi, but we are agile, and we do not tire as easily -- though we cannot endure as long as the earth ponies, though against them we have the advantage of flight."

Ebonshield folded up her wings and looked up at Lily’s horn. " ...Against the unicorns, we are taught to pit our guile and cunning, to confuse and terrify and scare them away. But if one of the Children is caught by a unicorn out in the open, and this is not part of some greater plan of the Child, and the unicorn does not run from fear, then, even if that Child is of the Eclipse, the unicorn will almost certainly triumph. The rapidity of the magic, and the power brutish of it, we cannot match head-on."

Lily nodded. "Okay, I guess that makes sense. Your average unicorn has been practising telekinesis for about as long as they've been able to walk, after all."

Eb shrugged. "Yes, exactly... But as for explaining the magic of Ignacio to you, this I cannot do. Nopony understands the magic of the Eclipse besides the Eclipse themselves. What Ignacio said to you about his kind being held apart from the rest of the Children is true; they interact very little with the other Phases. I have never heard of them having ever shared this knowledge outside of their own circle."

‘Damn.’

Looks like Ignacio was just yanking her reins when he asked her to try to figure it out. The sergeant was right; that old coot would probably get a real kick out of hearing she failed.

‘Well, damn it, I’m not giving up yet!’

There were still books in the library she hadn't consulted, and pages in the 'De Magia Unicornis' she hadn't studied! Lily would show that creepy old batpony that unicorn magic really was the best in Equestria!

Perhaps seeing the frown on her face, Ebonshield spoke up. "... Specialist Glamerspear, I must say also that I do not think Ignacio set you this challenge in order to mock you." Lifting her eyebrows, she grinned and spread her bat-wings. "Like the rest of the Children, I am certain that he has heard many stories about the power fantastic of the unicorns. You are probably the first one he has ever met in person, and I think he simply wishes to know if the stories are true. Your curiosity inspired his own; if the challenge is impossible, do not take it as an insult."

‘Hmm…’

‘Maybe.’

Lily nodded. Ignacio did heal Ebonshield, and for a cranky old nag, he had been somewhat pleasant, if cryptic. Even the sergeant had expressed surprise at his supposed 'good' manners when they’d all been down there.

Squinting, the unicorn looked her local batpony up and down. "Say, what's the deal with you and Ignacio, anyways? He called you something strange in your language when he healed your wound."

Ebonshield sighed. "He called me his 'little angel of death,' yes..."

Inhaling deeply, she glanced anxiously at the clock. "...It is complicated, our relationship; too complicated to explain at this moment. Let me say only that between us there is a bond of admiration mutual." Turning back to Lily, she pleaded. "Ask me this question again, when there is more time."

‘What a weird answer.’

Well, whatever, it was two minutes to four, and now really wasn't the right time for more chit-chat anyways. She nodded. "Sure, Sarge. Talk to you later."

"If you are not awake when my shift is ended, then I bid you goodnight, Specialist." Receiving a casual nod from Lily in response, the batpony Ebonshield headed out the door.

With Sparkshower still fussing over her camera in her room, Lily profited from the moment of quiet to finally, finally, lay her back on the sofa.

‘Ahhh…’

‘Damn mare had me running around for almost two hours straight.’

‘Damn, heartbroken mare...’

With a sigh, she looked over at the enormous 'De Magia Unicornis' tome on the coffee table, and the skimpy pair of 'Cosmoponitan' magazines next to it. Mailedhoof hadn't sent her a note yet, which probably meant he didn't need -- or maybe 'want' -- her around tonight.

Tomorrow, probably. He couldn't go a week without having a little of the Glam, she was certain.

She could take it easy for tonight -- watch Sparkshower wave around her fancy new whatevermajig, snap some photos of it for her folks, maybe head to the commissary to pick up a six-pack of 'Dragoon' Pale Ale in tribute to Her Ladyship, and then just relax on the sofa, before splitting the bill and sharing the booze with Honour and Artemis.

As Lily dreamt of a simple evening, Corporal Bound stepped into the common room. Pulling off her helmet, she gave the specialist a nod.

"How's she doing?"

Lily jerked a forehoof in the direction of Sparkshower's door, speaking quietly. "She's all excited. We ran into the commander of the Valkyries, of all ponies, at the spa. Apparently, us wrecking Kilfeather and company two weeks ago did them a big favor for the MXP Games, so she promised me a favor and Sparkshower a gift, which Sparks thinks is gonna be some ancient magic stick or hat from the Valkyries' collection, on account of her being warned not to use it indoors."

Honour stopped and screwed up her snoot. "The buck? Just for winning the pas-de-sabots we didn't even really want to fight? And where's my favor or gift, then?"

Lily shrugged. "Sorry, Corporal. Her Ladyship said I wasn't due to get anything more than a thank-you card, originally. Seeing me there changed things. But I guess she also had something to make up to Sparkshower this morning, too -- something about her being arrested for espionage?"

Honour's snoot went from 'scrunched' to 'mega-ultra-scrunched' in no time flat. "What? Arrested? She didn't say anything about that when she came back from delivering the calling-card."

The unicorn shook her head and snorted. "Apparently they're paranoid about infiltration over there at the Watchtower. Misplacing papers and chasing shadows and thinking it's super-secret spies. It sounds like just a bunch of bored-but-creative illusionists to me, but it was enough for them to accuse Sparks of trying to impersonate a Valkyrie."

The corporal looked over at Sparkshower's door. "Whatever. I just hope it doesn't screw things up for us tomorrow. Major General Hoofstrong sent her message -- she's invited the Royal Engineer to her office in the morning."

Honour looked down at Glamerspear. "We're on deck, you and me. Me, because I'm the senior member of the Quaternion, and you, because you're a decorated Centurion; we'll leave the batpony and the Valkyrie impersonator back here, got it?"

Lily nodded. "Sure, Corporal. Makes sense to me."

Lifting her head up from the sofa, she peeked over the back of the seat at Sparkshower's door. "...I'm still worried about Sparkshower, though. She hasn't... y'know... cried or anything. Wasn't she with this colt since, like, high school? She hasn't said one word about the breakup since she came upstairs. Heck, I barely got a little laugh out of her before Major Growler came and swept her off her hooves. You don't think it's unhealthy for her to hold it in?"

Honour shook her head and exhaled, puffing out her cheeks. "Maybe, but don't bring it up unless she does. Let her handle it her way."

Just then, there was a knock at the door. Before either Lily or Honour could answer it, Sparkshower whipped her bedroom door open and launched herself towards the hallway passage, nearly knocking the sofa over in her wake.

"Yes! Coming! I'm here!"

The door slammed open, shuddering against the rubber stopper, revealing a well-dressed unicorn deliverycolt levitating a small clipboard in front of him and a long box behind him.

"Good afternoon, I have a delivery for Specialist Sp-"

"YesThat'sMeWhereDoIsignIsItHereOkayDoneThereYouGoBringItRightInPlease."

Having yanked the clipboard out of the colt's telekinetic aura, she signed her name in a flash and thrust the papers back towards his chest, eyes on her prize. Momentarily dazed by her speed, the unicorn took a second to find his bearings, then stepped inside and lay the package on the ground. From her spot, Lily could see that it wasn’t actually just some shipping crate, but a glossy case with an elegant wood grain.

"Have a good even-"

"YesThankYouGoodEvening." Once again, Sparkshower slammed the door, this time narrowly avoiding the hapless deliverycolt's face.

As she scrambled over towards the delivery, Lily placed her forehooves down at her sides and pushed her back off the couch. "Come on, Sparks, this isn't the barracks, don't go slamming Her Majesty's doors like that."

Sparkshower paid no attention to her, and immediately proceeded to set her hooves opening the case's five latches -- only to be immediately stopped by Corporal Bound, who placed a hoof down on top of hers, to the pegasus' shock and indignation.

"Negatory on opening this up in here, Sparkshower. Whatever this is, you were told to play with it outside."

Before Artemis could protest, Honour looked over at Lily and continued. "Come on, Glamerspear. Pick this thing up and let's take it to the drill field. At this hour, on a Friday, it'll be empty."

That had Sparkshower happy again. "I'll get my camera! Oh, this is going to be amazing! I can't wait to see what it is!"

A little voice in Lily’s head told her this wouldn’t be the quiet, relaxing evening she’d hoped for. Another little voice piped up and said that thinking those kinds of thoughts was a sure sign she was getting older and wiser and, probably, slower.

With Sparkshower loading her camera into a saddle-back and Honour looking wary and tired, but interested, Lily picked up the wooden case in her teal aura.

And she told both little voices to shut the buck up.

Suggested watching: Bugs Bunny & Elmer Fudd - excerpt from "What's Opera, Doc?"
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5kH0Bag0akc

Chapter 94

Artemis Sparkshower

Specialist Artemis Sparkshower was so very, very excited!

Yes, okay, Corporal Bound had made her wait while she wrote a note saying where the three of them would be, in case an emergency arose and the Royal Engineer needed any one of them.

Or all of them.

And then there was the moment, just as they’d all started to step out the door, when Honour pointed out that if Artemis was going to be 'foaling around' with a 'probable weapon,' then she and Glamerspear had better put on their combat armor. But golly, had Artemis ever donned her barding quickly. Quicker even than Lily had put hers on, and she didn't even have as many pieces! Or needed to rely solely on her hooves and teeth to suit up!

Still, the pegasus could hardly accuse Lily of being laggardly. She seemed just as interested -- if, perhaps, not as excited -- as Artemis to learn what was in the very long box from Her Ladyship, Major Amberline Growler.

Artemis looked up at the package floating beside her in Glamerspear's teal telekinetic grasp as the three of them walked in the late afternoon sun towards the palace barracks' firing grounds and drill field. Surely the gift couldn't be a Valkyrie helmet; the case was far too large for that. And yet it seemed too short to be a spear -- shorter than the pegasus’ current longspear, at least, which was so big that it unscrewed into four pieces just to be able to fit on her back. Artemis’ current weapon was, in fact, twice as long as one of Honour's javelins or Lily's conjured munitions. But the mysterious gift was scarcely longer than those short weapons; far too small a weapon to wield in a pegasus' hooves.

Could it perhaps be an accessory? An antique caparison blessed with some magical property? Or even something as simple as an ensorcelled banner to be affixed to her own spear? A Growler family version of the ancient Pegasus Aureaflamma war-banner?

Perhaps it was an enchanted piece of armor? A well-sized banded criniere would fit in the case, if taken apart.

"Sparks, you can stop staring up at the box, we're here."

‘Oh, sunshine and rainbows, so we are!’

It looked like Corporal Bound was right; the place really was empty. The wide open square field, with thirty-hoof-tall safety berms around three sides, was completely devoid of anypony else. There wasn’t even a sentry or range officer! It wasn’t like there were any weapons about, though. Just the straw targets in the walled-in corner, shaped like bulls-eyes or pressed into bales for general use.

"Why don't you set the case down there on the commander's podium, Glamerspear?" Honour pointed a forehoof at the small raised wooden platform which allowed even an earth pony or unicorn to have a good, clear view of the field.

Lily nodded. "Yeah, sure thing."

‘Oooooh, it's aaaaalmost time to ooooopen iiiiit!’

Artemis was as happy as an early duck in an advanced spring!

Stepping up on the platform next to where the pegasus landed, Corporal Bound fixed Artemis in her gaze. "Okay, Sparkshower, crack it open and let's take a look -- but hooves off the merchandise until we figure out what it is."

She barely heard Honour’s admonishment in the back of her head as she flipped up one latch, then another, then the other three, and then slowly opened the hinged case.

"Ooooohhhhhhh!"

Artemis was transfixed by the sight. It was like nothing she could have expected! It was like nothing she’d ever seen! It was…!

It was…

‘What is it?’

Lily was the first to speak. "What the heck is this? It looks like some kind of antidequusian torture device."

Artemis doubted it was that old, but Glamerspear did have a point about recognizability. Before her, sitting in the folds of the plush, dark burgundy satin that lined the box, and held in place by several boiled-leather hard straps, was a royal-blue thing that could perhaps be described as 'polearm-esque.' The front -- if it was actually the front -- of the supposed weapon was shaped like a jousting lance, with a narrow, conical shape that tapered to a point, painted with a spiral blue-and-white pattern. But the 'rear' side of the cone, rather than widening into an ordinary-sized hoofguard, instead flared out into an asymmetric shape. It was big and broad on one side, gently curving outwards and back, but on the other side the hoofguard came to a thin bar, curving back only slightly. The thin side was almost like some kind of hook.

Maybe for driving it into the ground?

Was this a magic-shooting lance, intended to be emplaced and fired?

Beside the pegasus, Honour offered up her own opinion, her snoot scrunched up in confusion. "I've never seen anything like this. What's that thing on the left?"

Behind the main guard, the pole was straight and thin, as would be expected of a jousting lance, but that regularity lasted for scarcely a single hoof-length before another confusing appendage stuck out. This time, it was a somewhat long, leather strap with, of all things, an arched brass stirrup at the end. Not that Artemis was going to say that word out loud! She’d been embarrassed enough when she’d half-drunkenly blurted out one detail of her actual private life. She wasn’t about to let out a fictional detail, now of all times.

Anyways, the strap with the... 'hoof-rest' -- if it was a hoof-rest... extended a few hooves just to the left side of the box, where it was joined by yet another protrusion, this time in the form of some kind of 'rear crossguard' -- a short perpendicular bar placed at the butt of the pole, scarcely two hooves wide on either side.

All in all, the lance-ish looking weapon was about four hooves of conical lance, and maybe two hooves of grip. Not only was it short, but it was extremely lopsided, too. Artemis figured she’d learned just about all she could from just staring at Her Ladyship's gift.

Clearing her throat, she looked over at Honour. "Well, uh, Corporal, may I draw arms?"

With a wary look on her face, Corporal Bound nodded, and Artemis lay down to set about unhooking the stiff leather straps holding the 'lance' firmly in the case. As she undid the first one, she noticed there was a tiny bronze plaque, surrounded by satin, in the middle of the inside of the lid. Leaning in close, she could just make out the shallowly-engraved words...

'Bradamante Growler'

That would be the original owner, surely. It must've been made specifically for her, whoever she was -- and whatever this was. There were another couple of lines beneath it, in smaller text.

'A. Theolonicus'

Instantly, Artemis recoiled back from the case in shock, falling onto her back, and her mouth hanging agape. "Holy hurricanes!!"

Honour and Lily both stared down at her like she’d lost her mind.

Artemis pointed a hoof at the plaque. "... It's a Theolonicus!"

The Corporal lifted her eyebrows knowingly and turned to squint at the plaque.

Glamerspear, however, screwed up her snout like Artemis had just spoken in another language. "It's a what?"

Getting back to her hooves, the pegasus explained. "It's a Theolonicus! You know, as in made by Anthony Theolonicus? The famous unicorn armorer?"

Lily shook her head, lip curling up. "Who?"

Honour lifted her head up from the case. "I thought you liked paying attention to the luxury market, Glamerspear. Theolonicus lived around three hundred years ago, and he's said to have been one of the finest armorers Equestria's ever seen. All of his works have a reputation for being just flat-out better than anything else around. Today, his most famous works can sell for literal boatloads of bits at auction."

Glamerspear snorted. "I pay attention to luxury fashion, Corporal, not historical oddities and curiosities. And I don't mix business with pleasure." Placing a hoof on her chest, she curled her shoulders inward playfully. "If my salt-lick wants to show off his latest painting or statue or whatever, I'll fawn over it, but I don't pretend like I know what the buck it's about or who the buck made it."

Corporal Bound sighed and rolled her eyes, turning back to the weapon.

Artemis looked down at the last line on the plaque.

'712'

‘Hurricanes!’

This was a two-hundred-and-ninety-year-old weapon!

The pegasus specialist tried to suppress her exuberance as she explained things for her unicorn comrade's benefit. "The plaque inside the case says Anthony Theolonicus made this two hundred and ninety years ago for a 'Bradamante Growler.'"

Sitting up, Artemis crossed her forelegs and tapped one forehoof on her chin. "...Usually, Theolonicus weapons are named for their original owner, so I guess that makes this the 'Bradamante.' But I've never heard anything about that particular Growler; I guess they weren't very famous."

Honour nodded. "That would probably explain why Lady Growler was willing to part with it as a thank-you gift."

Artemis went back to undoing the leather straps -- more carefully and reverently, this time. "I suppose so. But even the less-famous ones are still very valuable; it's a piece of Equestrian cultural history!"

Bobbing her head left and right, she undid the final strap. "Captain Goldenfoil, her aide-de-camp, did mention that if I thought it was too great a present, then I was welcome to return it in a few weeks."

Artemis heard Corporal Bound mutter under her breath. "Where's my buckin' too-great-a-present..."

Ignoring her superior's indignation, she flapped her wings to hover in mid-air and gently tried to pick up the strange weapon. It was heavier than her greatspear, which was heavy enough as it was, and hoisting the strange Theolonicus weapon into the air was made doubly awkward by the fact that it was so front-heavy -- the thing was all lance and no shaft. There was almost nothing to tuck under her torso and hind legs! And Artemis couldn’t just grab it higher up the point -- the strange, lopsided hoofguard got in the way of her... well, everything.

Glamerspear looked up at the pegasus. "Genius armorer, huh? He must've been having an off day when he made this one."

She smirked as Artemis struggled to get a grip on the thing. "Or maybe this 'Bradamante' was, like, missing a couple of hooves or something?"

As the pegasus wrestled with the weapon, it started to seem like her unicorn comrade might be right.

Honour narrowed her eyes and stared at the strange device. "How about you try putting your forehooves behind the lance-guard, and then put your hind hooves on that crossbar thing just behind it?"

Artemis frowned as she considered the corporal’s idea. "If I do, though, my hooves'll all be pressed together. I won't have hardly any grip, and I won't be able to tuck it up against my body!"

Regardless, she gave it a try. It was awkward, but it did seem to be manageable. However, the weapon was utterly useless like that, unless it spat magical fire -- and even then, it was hardly ideal, because her grip was so loose that she was worried about dropping the antique. Also, she definitely didn’t have a firm enough grip to aim it very well. Artemis was left just sort of hovering in the air with her back up vertical, struggling to support the lance's weight in her forehooves alone.

Honour nodded and pointed at the specialist’s hind hooves. "What happens if you try to pull your hindlegs back?"

‘Pull my legs back?’

‘There's nowhere to pull my legs back to.’

"Okay, Corporal, but I don't want to damage what could be one of Lady Growler's priceless heirl-"

ka-CHONK!

"-ooms... Oh."

As soon as Artemis applied firm pressure with her hind hooves while still holding the guard with her forehooves, the rest of the shaft -- which was apparently tucked up inside the lance-point -- came dropping out into place with an angry metallic crash. She now held a lance of proper point-to-shaft proportions, with a haft long enough to tuck under her and a reasonably-sized 'business end'.

It was still shorter than her great spear, however.

And it was still bizarrely accessorized.

Tucking it up underneath her body as she would any other polearm, Artemis realized that the crossguard at the butt end of the shaft was now perfectly positioned as a rest for her hind-hooves. And the strangely-shaped front guard seemed to be encouraging her to place both of her forehooves on the grip, with the wide flared part serving as a kind of built-in jousting shield on her weapon side, and the narrow, spike-like protrusion acted as a bar to allow her to rest some of the weapon's weight on her crossed foreleg.

After another moment or two of fiddling, Artemis settled into a reasonably comfortable pose with the weapon. It still looked bizarre, and the need to use all four of her hooves to hold it is still very unusual -- and very limiting, too, as she didn’t think she could swing it around at all, not like her current great-spear. She was basically stuck in place like this; only her head and wings could move. But... with a little practice, Artemis could see using the 'Bradamante' lance in a charge, at least. Not very versatile, and she imagined it would also stick in whatever she lanced, but still, it was a weapon.

"Hmmm... I guess this is it, then. It doesn't seem very useful. Maybe it was a ceremonial weapon, for tournament jousts?"

Glamerspear just shrugged, but Honour shook her head. "Maybe, but that doesn't really make sense. I don't think anypony was running serious tilts even four hundred years ago, never mind only three. By the 700s, they would've just been for show, as they are now. Strange to order a custom weapon from Theolonicus merely for play-jousting. And why bother making it collapsible? That's something you'd want more on a weapon to carry into battle..."

Artemis didn’t have answers to those questions, but then Honour nodded at the stirrup. "And what's that thing, down there? A sling attachment, for carrying it casually? Is there a shoulder-strap still in the case?"

The corporal peeked into the box, but Artemis knew she wouldn’t find anything in there. That stirrup-on-a-strap could be only for one purpose -- holding one of Artemis’ hind hooves. The only question was, why? What could the stirrup do that the crossguard hoofrest couldn't?

She looked down at the rear of the lance. Just slightly ahead of the rear crossguard, the stirrup was hanging neatly against the shaft. Funny enough, the strap holding it in place was actually held up against the shaft by a series of small, brass hoops only slightly larger than the strap itself. And rather than being fixed to a stud, the cord appeared to actually go up into the body of the weapon through a small hole. What in Celestia's name could it all be for?

Artemis turned around in the air and nodded at Glamerspear. "Lily, can you tell if this weapon is magical at all?"

Scrunching up her snout a bit, Lily shrugged. "I dunno. I don't feel anything, but, like, lots of magical stuff doesn't really radiate magic unless it's being actively used, ya know? It takes a certain skill to detect those kinds of dormant energies -- and I haven't got it. Sorry." She lifted an eyebrow. "... Did this Theolonicus colt even make non-magical stuff? So wouldn't this one have to be enchanted, too, if it's not a knock-off?"

There were plenty of Theolonicus imitations and fakes, but it seemed unlikely that the Growler family would have kept something non-genuine in their famed collection.

Artemis nodded, feeling uncertain of just what she was supposed to do with this gift. "Yes, all of Theolonicus' weapons are supposedly magical, but often the magic was just to keep the blade very sharp, or to make the weapon lighter than usual."

Feeling the lance's weight drag her down a bit, Artemis adjusted her grip and flapped herself a bit higher off the ground. "... I think we can rule out that last one; it's heavy. But this, uh, 'sling attachment' seems just big enough to rest a hoof in. Let me see what happens if I take one of my hind hooves off of the crossbar and place it i-"

KURR-FFWWWWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOSSSSHHHHHH!

Chapter 95

Artemis Sparkshower

‘Huh.. wha..?’

The cream colored pegasus was lying sideways on what Specialist Artemis Sparkshower -- that’s who she was, right? -- was hazily presuming to be the drill yard's well-worn turf. Everything was a blur, except for the memory of a deafening noise, a sudden jerk of movement, and then seeing sky-ground-sky-ground-sky-ground-sky-GROUND. That last one being accompanied by a spray of earth and another forceful blow.

CLONK-CLONGGGGGgg

Somewhere off in the distance, it sounded like a metal flagpole just toppled over.

"SPARKSHOWER! SPARKSHOWER, ARE YOU OKAY?!"

"SPARKS!! HOLY BUCK! PONE DOWN! MEDIC!! MEDIIIIIC!"

There were familiar voices off in another direction, but all Artemis could think about was when she was going to take her next breath. Something earthy and grassy seemed to be impeding her ability to breathe. Involuntarily, she convulsed in a cough, and a mouthful of dirt and grass came out.

‘Oh, that'll be wh-’

Before she could think another thought, her lungs, aching for air, started Artemis furiously retching and choking.

"COUGH HURH KUH KUHUHUHHHR huuuuuu-haaaaa huuuuu-haaaaa huuu-haaa"

Regaining her breath, she scraped together enough concentration to bring a hoof up to her muzzle to clear away some of the muck that was encasing her face.

"Sparkshower! Sparkshower! Talk to me!"

As the haze lifted from Artemis’ eyes and she spat out the last bits of earth from her mouth, she managed to turn her head slightly to see Corporal Bound standing over her, a worried look on her face.

"Uhnn... Hello, Corporal."

Before answering her, Honour hollered back over her shoulder in the direction where Lily was still calling for help. "She's conscious! Glamerspear, get over here!"

The corporal looked down at the pegasus. "... Are you hurt? Can you see? I can't believe your helmet's still in one piece after that landing."

Scrunching up her snout, Artemis shut her eyes and brushed a hoof around again to sweep more dirt away. There was the sound of galloping hooves nearby.

"I... I think I'm okay. What happened?"

Glamerspear's face appeared in her line of sight. "What happened? What happened was you took off like a buckin' firecracker! And I guess you weren't holding on too tight either, 'cause about a half-second later you let go and slammed into the ground!"

Artemis flexed her legs and rolled over -- slowly -- onto her front. Honour leaned down and put a hoof to her foreleg’s shoulder "Take it easy there, Sparkshower. That thing launched you halfway across the drill field. You might've broken something."

"I think I'm okay. Nothing really hurts."

Honour did not appear convinced by her statement, but Artemis struggled to her hooves anyways, flexing her wings as she went.

Glamerspear broke into a big smile when she saw her stand up, apparently unharmed. "Sweet Celestia of Equestria, Sparks! If you'd shot off into the sky instead of hugging -- and then slamming into -- the ground, all of Canterlot would've thought the Gala was starting a week early. What'd you do, put all your weight in that hoof-sling? You've gotta take it easy your first time, filly."

Now that Artemis was upright and no longer eating dirt, she did start to recall some of the details. And, yes, she did remember being perhaps a bit heavy on that one hoof.

"I guess I might've stepped in it too hard, but... who knows if it even has multiple speeds, like the Royal Engineer's automobile? Maybe it only has 'go'?"

Lily grinned and laughed. "Well, if you actually manage to hold onto it next time you make it 'go,' then we're gonna have to come up with a new MOS code for you." Rearing up on her hind hooves, she spread her forehooves wide. "So long, Specialist Sparks, Armored Scout -- Hello, Specialist Sparks-ter, Rocket Knight!"

Honour stepped up and looked the pegasus in the eyes. "That was a pretty big hit you took just now. Don't push yourself too hard; we can test your new toy some other time."

‘Absolutely not!’

Artemis was determined to figure out the 'Bradamante Lance' that evening. "I'm okay, Corporal. I want to try it again... Where did it land, actually?"

Glam jerked a forehoof in the direction where she'd heard the 'flagpole' fall over. Clearly, that was the lance itself, crashing back to the ground.

"As soon as you let go, it tipped upwards and flew in the air for a little while longer before falling just at the edge of the berm. I can go and grab it, if you want."

Artemis nodded. "Sure, I'd appreciate that, Lily."

As she trotted off, she shouted back at Sparkshower over her shoulder. "And this next time, I'll have the camera ready, too!"

Artemis looked over at a frowning Corporal Bound. "Am I cleared hot?"

With a grumble, she nodded. "Yeah, okay, you can try it again. But this time, climb to a higher elevation first, so you have enough time to recover under your own wingpower if you have to let go. Angle the lance upwards a little before triggering it, too, so you're not rocketing straight into the ground. And lower your visor this time, if you don't want another face-full of dirt."

She turned her head and looked around the drill grounds. "Keep the first flight short; release the hoofrest as soon as you're comfortable doing so. Try to stay within the bounds of the practice area if you can, though I guess it'll be pretty difficult if that thing can sustain its speed for any length of time. Stick to the barracks boundaries at the very least -- we don't want to be raining Royal Guards or pointy heirloom Theolonicus weapons down over the civilian areas of the palace or city."

Artemis jumped to attention and nodded at her respectfully. "Yes, Corporal!"

Honour rolled her eyes. "And knock that off. I want you paying attention and being careful, not sticking to protocol for protocol's sake. Launch that 'Bradamante Growler' lance -- with or without you attached -- at anypony who isn't wearing heavy armour, and I doubt they'll be getting back up again." She gave Artemis a final stern look as Glamerspear came trotting back over, with both her camera and the lance in her telekinetic grasp. "All I'm asking is that you treat that thing with the respect that a very dangerous and lethal weapon deserves."

The pegasus specialist nodded. "I will. Captain Goldenfoil did say that it had a 'temper'... I can't imagine what would've happened if I'd tried to use it indoors."

"Canterlot Palace would've had a buncha new hallways drilled into it, that's what!" Glamerspear smirked as she lowered the lance in front of Artemis. "And I don't think Their Majesties would've been too pleased about you turning their palace into a block of Einsiedler cheese, either, ha!"

Artemis looked at the Little Ludwig camera in Lily’s grip. "Let me get things set up for the photograph first?"

"Sure thing. You gonna pose before taking off, too?"

Sitting on her haunches, Artemis shook her head as Lily lowered the camera into her forehooves. "No, let's do the portraits another day. My armor's all muddy from the failed test-firing, now. I'll set the camera for you to take a few 'action' photos."

Thinking on it, she should have brought one of her telephoto lenses in addition to the portrait 35mm, but it'll do if she could stay within the boundaries of the drill field. It was late afternoon, but there was still quite a lot of sun, so she set the focus to infinity, aperture to f/4, and shutter speed to 1/500th of a second. That should be fast enough to capture a good snapshot of the lance -- and herself -- in motion.

Artemis hoofed the camera back to Lily. "Okay, here. Hold off if a cloud casts me in shadow, if I'm too small in the viewfinder, or when I'm closer than twenty hooves -- the photo will be either too dark or too blurry. Otherwise, it should be fine. There's a full roll of twenty-four shots in there; go ahead and use them all if you can."

Glamerspear nodded and telekinetically lifted the camera viewfinder up to her muzzle. "Sure thing, Sparks! I'll getcha, don't worry!"

As the pegasus picked up the lance, Honour tapped Glamerspear on the shoulder with a forehoof. "Come on, paparazzo, let's get behind the commander's podium before this rocket blasts off again."

Artemis lowered her visor and took to the air while her comrades sought cover below. It was a bit of a struggle -- the 'Bradamante Lance' really was heavy. And this from somepony who flew around in thick plate armor nearly all the time!

‘Hmmm... it'd be a lot easier to climb to a safe altitude if I used the lance itself to propel me upwards…’

Something to try later, lest she earn Corporal Bound's ire.

Eventually, Artemis reached what she considered to be a safe height, and Honour and Lily reached the relative safety of the sturdily-constructed wooden platform. Angling the weapon generously well above the horizon, Artemis lifted her right hind hoof off of the crossbar hoofrest and placed it just above the activation stirrup.

‘Here goes attempt number two -- may Bradamante Growler guide me in using her weapon!’

Artemis gently flexed her right hind leg back.

There was an audible CLICK from inside the pole, and then-

FWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOSSSHHHHH

Recommended video: S-400 'Triumf' [NATO reporting name: SA-21 'Growler'] anti-aircraft missile launch - skip to 1:10
https://youtu.be/NE-jW5Hg-pw?t=69

‘Holy Coriolis, Mother of Hurricanes!’

The deafening noise, the tremendous power, and the incredible rush of wind! Her wings were pressed tightly against her flanks from the force, and it was a real struggle just to keep her hooves in place. The hind hoof-rest 'cross-guard' now made perfect sense -- not just as a way of expanding the weapon, but it was an essential requirement for riding while the 'Bradamante Lance' was thrusting forward. And the strange cross-foreguard was clearly not intended to help in holding the weapon, but again a necessary aid for simply holding on.

Artemis looked down, and realized she’d not just completely cleared the drilling ground, but was almost at the edge of the barracks complex itself. Bracing for the sudden deceleration, she lifted her hoof out of the stirrup.

TSSSSSSsssssssss

An angry hiss accompanied the abrupt slowdown, and the front-heavy lance immediately tipped downwards -- with Artemis attached to it. She spread her wings to arrest the descent, then stopped to hover in place.

‘Incredible!’

Flying from the drill grounds to here would have taken her almost a full minute even without her heavy armor on. This thing flew her there, fully suited up, in a matter of a few seconds! How quickly could it take her all the way to the other side of the Canterlot Palace Barracks?

Only one way to find out...

Aiming herself above the horizon at the opposite side of the barracks grounds, Artemis moved her right hindhoof just above the stirrup again. She’d really have to be quick on the release this next time, because while on her present side of the complex there was just another one of the palace's innumerable gardens -- Her Majesty's Tulip and Daffodil Nursery -- the other side of the barracks abutted the Palace itself. And Artemis definitely didn’t want to be making a hole in Their Majesties' official residence.

Tilting the lance up even higher than before, so that if she did release late, at least she’d clear the first few low buildings, Artemis braced herself and applied hoof to stirrup once more.

KURR-FFWWWWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOSSSSHHHHHH

Suggested background music: Yoko Kanno - 'Fly up in the air' [excerpt], from 'Macross Plus' [1995]: http://recochoku.jp/song/S20237268/

Alternative full length soundtrack: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q2LQCGinySc

On her third trip, the terror started to diminish, and Artemis found herself wearing a smile on her face. Not that anypony could see it, with her visor down, but it was there.

‘This thing is incredible!’

Lady Major Amberline Growler really had given Artemis a wondrous gift. A fine example of Anthony Theolonicus' unparallelled abilities as a master armorer!

And Bradamante Growler, the original purchaser and owner? Why, she must have been a ferocious warrior if she managed to make good use of it! Artemis felt privileged to merely touch her lance. ‘And now it's mine!’

Artemis’ to keep, if she wanted it, though she imagined that Lady Growler would probably expect some favors in the future. But until then, the Bradamante Lance was propelling her across the sky so fast that even the Royal Guard's Wonderbolts stunt racing team might have trouble keeping up. Just another five seconds, and she’d let go to stop short of the palace proper...

TSSSSSsssssssssss

‘Wait, what?’

Although she still had her hoof solidly in the stirrup, the weapon's thrust started to taper off. Reflexively, she spread her wings to arrest the fall, as she looked down at the weapon couched under her body.

Was that all the lance had to give before it ran out?

Twenty or so seconds of thrust?

It was twenty ferociously fast seconds, to be sure, but it didn't seem like a whole lot. Artemis wouldn't be crossing Equestria with just the 'Bradamante Lance' alone, that was for certain. Still, though, it would be enough for one heck of a combat charge. Or a great emergency tactical withdrawal, too!

‘Hmmm…’

‘But how am I supposed to know when the Lance is ready to-’

CLICK

KURR-FFWWWWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOSSSSHHHHHH

‘Buck!’

Jerking her hoof off the stirrup, Artemis struggled to keep her wings open just enough to serve as control surfaces, rolling over to one side to pull away from a violet-painted bulbous onion-dome -- Canterlot Palace's Royal Library.

TSSSSSsssssssssss

Not ideal to be making big noises just outside of what was supposed to be a place for quiet study! Artemis decided to proceed away from it under her own power for a little bit before engaging the 'Bradamante Lance' once again.

CLICK-AHHhhh

That noise was probably to let her know the Lance was fully charged again.

Hmm, she had managed to open her wings for a little bit while the thing was running. It must be possible to perform some course corrections while it was in powered flight. Maybe if she only opened her wings a tiny bit, leaving them swept back, she could have just enough surface to aim herself properly. It was a theory worth testing out -- and now that she was well clear of Her Majesty's book repository, she aimed to do exactly that!

KURR-FFWWWWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOSSSSHHHHHH

‘Yes!’

It was incredibly tough to do, but with a little effort Artemis could climb, dive, and even roll over to bank! Nopony would be confusing her for a member of the supremely agile First Air Wing, but with speed like this, who cares? By the time her target heard the ear-splitting howl of the 'Bradamante Lance,' it would be too late -- she’d be on them already.

As Artemis came up on the drill field, she released the stirrup, to the now-familiar TSSSSSsssssssssss noise, and prepared to line up for a run on one of the larger, elevated hay-bale bull's-eyes. Hitting things in the air was all good and well, but there were always going to be targets on the ground, too!

Heck, Honour could chuck javelins up high if she wanted to, as well! And even Glamerspear could hurl her anti-aircraft spears at enemies on land!

Artemis spotted the unicorn in question snapping photos of her as she flew over, diving down low, and then stopping to hover at a comfortable twenty hooves above ground.

CLICK-AHhhh

Perfect; she’d be able to give it everything the Lance had to give. Gonna have to mind the shock when she slammed into the target. The only question was, should she lift off the stirrup before impact, or ride it straight through like a hammerhead? She’d definitely have to pull off immediately afterwards, lest she crash into the berm fifty hooves behind it.

Well, there was nopony there but her quaternion, and nothing behind the berm but another two hundred hooves of open field with nopony else there either. Heck, the barracks building opposite the field was probably half empty, according to Glamerspear, with most of the garrison away on weekend liberty. And Artemis wasn’t injured, and she was wearing her armor.

When else would she be able to push it to the limit like this?

With a grin of glee on her armored face, Artemis slammed her right hind hoof into the stirrup.

KURR-FFWWWWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOSSSSHHHHHH

Squinting her eyes against the strands of hay she was worried would poke through her visor's slits, she made only the slightest of corrections to stay on course. The big round target went from a small far-away circle to a huge disc in almost no time flat, and Artemis doubted if she even could have lifted off in time to avoid it.

She barely felt the contact, as the light straw objective neatly split in two, one half brushed aside by the large forward guard, and the other by her own shoulder armor. Releasing the stirrup to a satisfying hiss, Artemis unfolded her wings wide, making use of the forward momentum to launch herself up high, then rolling off at the top to come around and glide back towards the commander's podium.

Lily and Honour stepped up out of their cover when they saw her coming around to land.

Artemis picked her hind hooves up off the crossbar and tilted the lance up above her head to free her hooves for the ground, but with a neat shrrr-CLACK, the haft automatically retracted itself into the lance-point. That left one forehoof free to lift her visor up so her quaternion-comrades could see just how happy she was.

Glamerspear was all smiles when Artemis landed. "Nice going, Sparks! I think I got a good one or two of that attack run you made!"

She was still breathing heavily from the thrill of it all. "Thanks, Lily. Did you use the whole roll?"

Glam nodded. "Yeah... I'm not so sure about some of the early ones, though. You zoomed by so fast overhead I think all I managed to do is get a blurry speck at the edge of the shot. Sorry."

Artemis shrugged. "That's okay. I can always get more film. And we can always come out again and take some more."

Honour stepped up. "Don't be too sure about that. I'm starting to wonder if we haven't just hurt the Royal Engineer's prospects for talking to Major General Hoofstrong tomorrow with all this loud flying around. At least you stayed entirely within palace grounds and didn't fly too high up; so hopefully nopony from the 1AD's Canterlot Air Patrol noticed. Hopefully nopony calls in to complain about the noise, either..."

She nodded at the Bradamante Lance in Sparkshower's hooves. "...I suppose the fact that it was a gift from Major Growler will help, as will the fact the exercise had nothing to do with the Royal Engineer himself. In any case, it's something to be aware of when you're there with me tomorrow morning, Glamerspear."

Artemis sat down to strap the lance back in its case, and Glamerspear floated the camera over. "Sure thing, Corporal. And here's your Ludwig, Sparks. You gonna send these pictures back home to your folks?"

Strongly recommended background music: The New Queen's Hall Orchestra - 'Fantasia on a Theme by Thomas Tallis', as featured in 'Master and Commander' [2003]
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oS8Sd8amxcU

‘My folks?’

It'd been a little while since Artemis had actually written to her parents. She normally saw them often enough, taking her weekend leave back to Berry. Being in the VIP section changed that, though -- no weekend leave meant they hadn't heard from her in over two weeks. Three, actually, since she didn't get the weekend off beforehoof.

A lot had happened.

Artemis had a lot to tell them.

About the Royal Engineer, and about everything else that came with him. Seeing that wonderful musical at the Sardinia theatre, fighting the battle of Newstirrup Bridge, meeting the batpony Ebonshield -- no, that would get censored by the Royal Guard, she’d have to skip over it. Meeting Princess Luna, making the trip to Fort Newcastle-Upon-Mare and placing an order with the minotaur blacksmith Bronzehorn...

The trip under Canterlot Mountain to the Rookery would have to be left out, again due to DADT.

After that, there was experiencing the Royal Engineer's new steam-powered automobile, discovering the Spa Dalecarlia, buying dresses with her new best friend Lily...

And then there was Huckleberry. How was she going to explain Huckleberry? What was she going to tell her parents? Her friends back in Berry? Not that she had a lot of them...

Artemis looked at the lance, running a hoof reverently down the striped tip.

Where would she be now, if it wasn't for Huckleberry?

"You okay down there, Sparks? All that flying around wear you out?" Glamerspear was beside her, still waiting for her to finish so she could trade Artemis her camera for the lance-case.

"I'm all right. Just... thinking."

"'Bout the weapon? It's a real wonder, all right -- and a wonder you didn't hurt yourself trying it out. I guess she wasn't going to dole it out to anyone who didn't wear heavy armor. If you decide to keep it, I'm sure Lady Growler will have some expectations that you'll do her more favours, intentionally or not." She shrugged. "At the very least, I'd expect her to make another push for you to join the Valkyries, probably with the promise of getting one of those magic helmets to go along with the lance."

Artemis remembered looking over all the possibilities when she got her Equestrian Services Vocational Aptitude Battery scores back. There were a lot of offers that she’d had to rule out because of Huck. Including the Valkyries.

Shaking her head, she spoke aloud to nopony in particular. "I couldn't. There was too much travel."

Glamerspear nodded. "Yeah, I guess the Valkyries do travel a lot, what with every other unit needing heavily-armored fliers to play OPFOR for their training exercises."

Turning away from the priceless heirloom that had been so casually given to her by somepony for whom it was merely saddlebag change, Artemis looked off at the setting sun, dumbstruck, muttering aimlessly.

"I did it all for him."

Glamerspear lifted an eyebrow. "Huh? Did it all for-hey!"

Honour had stepped over and elbowed the unicorn in the shoulder, just underneath her armor. "Shut up for a minute, Glamerspear."

Artemis took a deep breath, just watching the sun play among the clouds on its way down to the earth. "With my ESVAB and fitness scores, I could've gone straight into the Valkyries, or any of the armored units... Maybe even the Hussars or the Household Cavalry..." She took another breath. "... But it would've meant being away from him, immediately. Long train rides to Berry making for little time at home, or long flights and I'd arrive too tired for us to enjoy the time. So I went with the First Infantry Division, Fourth Armored Regiment..."

A cloud passed in front of the sun, becoming shadowed and dark, while orange rays splayed out in all directions from behind it.

"... I took the Armored Scout MOS, because the signing bonus would make our down payment on a stable almost anywhere we might've wanted to live."

She sighed, lifting her eyebrows. "And I visited him every weekend, and I fought for him to get a raise at the Strawberries' farm, and I pushed away the bullies in Berry who teased him and called him names, and I tried to help him every way I could... And then I realized maybe Berry was the problem, so I paid for him to visit Canterlot with me, thinking it'd do him good to try another life."

Something was blurring her vision, collecting in her eyes. "When I was promoted, I transferred to the VIP service, figuring it would be the easiest way we could try Canterlot out together. A short service period, with not much travel, and easy liberty off-duty..."

Instinctively, she put one hoof up to her muzzle to wipe the clear fluid away. "... I didn't... I didn't come here to be invited to the Grand Galloping Gala, or to be taken to musical shows, or to learn about secrets under Canterlot mountain, or to have nobleponies lavish gifts on me..."

She found her breathing becoming irregular, erratic. Something dribbled out of her nose, and she tried to sniffle it back up. "... sniff... I did everything for him..."

Her jaw started to quiver. "... And... And now he's gone... And... I'm the one who told him to leave..."

Artemis brought her other forehoof up to her muzzle, as if it would stop the impending flood. But it was like trying to plug a dam that had sprung a leak with just a few stray leaves and twigs.

Inevitably, it burst.

Tears poured out of her eyes and collected in the base of her bascinet-helm and dribbled out the breathing holes whenever she jerked her head forward, falling onto the wooden platform and into the Bradamante Lance's silk-lined box. She felt a pair of forelegs wrap around her torso just underneath her shoulders, and a metal-clad chest scraped against her own.

Corporal Bound held Artemis up, as she bawled her misery out on her shoulder. The Lance, the Spa, the sitting awake in the bed trying not to think about what had happened... she’d thrown every available distraction up like a bulwark against that morning's meeting. None of it could compete with the years of memories that all came pouring in.

After a while, Artemis’ eyes and cheeks drenched, she lifted her head up again and looked into Honour's calm, knowing face. "...Do... Do you think I'll ever see him again?"

She shook her head. "I don't know, Artemis... Do you want to?"

Artemis felt emptied, and she looked away from Honour, off towards the setting sun once more. "I don't know. But... I just don't know what to do without him."

She nodded. "You start by taking it one day at a time, Artemis. One day at a time... until the day when you find yourself again."

Her lips quivering, another flood on the way, Artemis tried to hold it back by swallowing and taking a deep breath. Then she asked the question for which she dreaded to hear the answer.

"...How long will it take?"

Honour blew out, puffing her cheeks, and gently shook her head. "I don't know. But you'll make it."

The pegasus collapsed in tears onto her shoulder again.

Chapter 96

Purity Ebonshield

Sergeant Purity Ebonshield’s eyes snapped open in the darkness. It was still night outside.

Good.

She crept stealthily out of her bed -- leaving it empty, alas. Her Leónito, that young stallion full of life, she’d had to refuse company for tonight, because tonight was not a night for pleasure. Tonight, Ebonshield was going to work.

Slowly pulling open her bedroom door, the batpony peeked out and glanced up at the clock on the wall in the common room. One-thirty in the morning.

‘Bueno.’

She had slept the ninety minutes as she planned.

Without pausing, she shut the door silently, crossed her room, threw on her cloak, and opened her window. She took to the air and pushed the window closed, leaving only a fluttering of leathery wings barely audible against the gentle mountain breeze blowing across Canterlot. She needed only a few minutes to arrive at the orchard garden-shed which served as the border post run by the Royal Undermountain Constabulary, the Military Ponice who guarded the secret gates between Equestria and the ponies of the Moon.

Ebonshield’s favourite RUC Lieutenant, the handsome young Rounds Rapid, had just arrived on duty, and he quickly cleared her for transit into the undermountain as he had done so many times before. However, as he floated over her papers in his unicorn-grasp, he looked up with an air of curiosity.

"By the way, is it business or personal this evening, Sergeant Ebonshield?"

She took the Royal Warrant which granted her full and complete access to both the surface and subterranean worlds and placed it back in one of the small concealed pockets sewn into the inside of her cloak. "Tonight, señor Rápido, this is business."

The unicorn appeared concerned, and tensed up in his chair. "Business for your VIP, I trust?"

Her other kind of business, she knew that he did not endorse. And he was certainly not alone in this.

"Yes, it is for the Royal Engineer. I am conducting some diplomacy on his behalf."

'Diplomacy' was a word which could mean a great many things. Either the lieutenant had not yet learned this, or else he trusted her perhaps too much, for her answer appeared to reassure him. She saw him relax, his back slouching almost imperceptibly.

"Very well. Good night, Sergeant."

Bowing, Ebonshield backed away towards the Rookery entrance. "Buenas noches, teniente. I will return shortly, I hope."

He nodded, and the other RUC guards pulled open the doors to let her in.

Unsurprisingly, Ebonshield did not encounter any checkpoint on the other side. Which was not to say that there were no guards -- she spotted two Righteous Hatchets, lurking in the stalactites just before the Cave of Pillars, carrying on idle conversation by whispers. They saw her too, but far too late, when she had already flown them by.

‘Slothful, slothful, slothful!’

Still, nopony would have expected an incursion into the Rookery at night -- without torches or lights, or even the sound of hoofsteps. The Hatchets were more vigilant during the day, and when the Night Guard shifts changed. But at almost two in the morning, long after the Night Guard midnight meal? No, the guardians were as sleepy as the rest of the Rookery would be.

After coasting around the waterfall, soaring through the Cave of Pillars, and then flapping her way to the bazaar, Ebonshield was unsurprised to see the caverns almost completely empty of any Children. Many of the stalls were even closed for the after-midnight, to reopen in the evening when the contingent of Night Guard returned for supper -- their most valued customers, paying in Equestrian bits and often in smuggled Equestrian goods. However, after flying past a few sleepy rows, she could see that her destination was still open, to a degree.

She landed silently just in front of the store-front’s counter. Behind it, sitting on a stool with his back slouching against the wall, his head propped up in his hooves, and his wings wrapped around himself, the middle-aged proprietor of the establishment was snoring gently.

Ebonshield addressed him in her native tongue.

«Good after-midnight, Joseph.»

With a startle and a snort, José woke up, looked at her, glanced around to see that she was alone, then coughed twice as he got off his stool. «Good after-midnight, Madam Star-Phase. Welcome to Horchateria Joseph. What may I serve you tonight?»

She slithered up one of the raised chairs at the counter and looked the square-jawed batpony colt in the eyes. «What dost thou have?»

José licked his black-mustached lips and reached down for a rag, then proceeded to idly wipe the counter, shaking his head. «The horchata is made fresh this evening, with tiger nuts delivered only yesterday. I also have some small breads and pastries left-over from breakfast.»

Ebonshield nodded amiably. «Then I shall have a small horchata to begin with.»

The proprietor turned around towards the drink-jar, picking up a ladle in his hoof, his heavy black mane brushing against the top of his red-embroidered black vest. «Certainly, madam.»

As he returned to face the sergeant, placing a small glass of the thick drink on the counter with a cork coaster underneath, José looked her warily in the eyes. Looking him right back, she picked up the glass and took a tiny sip of the cool, refreshing beverage. She licked her lips and placed it back down on its little saucer, withdrawing her forehooves into her cloak.

«... Is it to Madam's liking?»

Frowning playfully, she tilted her head back. «It requires some accompaniment, I think.»

José rolled his head to the side slightly. «Would Madam care for a pastry? Or a biscuit to dip in it, perhaps?»

Ebonshield shook her head, lowering it down again. «No... But I understand that conversation goes well with drink.»

The black-maned colt sat back on his stool, folding his forelegs in front of him and his wings behind him. «Ah. And about what subject would it please madam to converse?»

She sat back in her seat, placing one forehoof confidently on the counter. «I think, perhaps, I should enjoy it if we could speak on history.»

His eyes narrowed. «If Madam Star-Phase is curious of history, then she should seek out a Lunar. Rocks such as myself are not permitted authority in these things outside of our own professions.»

She took another sip from her glass. «This is true. Yet I believe thou art an expert in the particular item of interest to me this night.»

José licked his lips. «And what item might that be?»

Ebonshield fixed him in her gaze. «The Reconquest.»

There was a long pause before he answered.

Doubtless, he wondered why she had come today to ask this question. Was this her motive which concerned him? Or, perhaps he was merely considering how to answer her while keeping his obligation to his Phase.

José shook his head. «This is a very old subject, Madam. She is not a very current event.»

An evasive answer; she pressed on. «Dost thou deny having familiarity with her?»

His obligations to his own Rock Phase required him not to speak with authority on the subject of historical events. But his obligations to Phases above his required that he be obedient to his betters. The horchateria-tender chose to fly with his wings held close to his chest.

«This is a horchateria, Madam. I serve horchata, baked goods, and omelettes. Not lessons in history.»

Ebonshield leaned in to force the confrontation, placing her brow close enough for him to easily butt hers, if he dared to. «I have questions about the Reconquest, Joseph. And I am not leaving here until thou answerest them.»

José met her brow, but did not challenge her. Instead, he glanced down at her half-empty cup.

«In that case, I fear madam will be drinking rather a lot of horchata tonight.»

‘Ay!’

The reputation that this colt was stubborn and witty was well-deserved.

Picking up her glass, Ebonshield took another small sip and then put her forehooves down on the table quickly and with some force, so that her blades clattered against the counter. A cheap tactic to draw attention, but José did not even bother to look down at her weapons. He only shook his head, his brow inches from hers.

«...I know nothing worth somepony paying for my name to appear in your famous book, Madam of the Shining Stellar Dance.»

She raised her eyebrows. «Do you not? Why else art thou kept around here, then, Joseph?»

Her insult garnered her a swallow and the beginning of a frown. «Madam would have to consult with the Reverend Mother for the answer to this question.»

With a grumble, he leaned away from her, then got off his stool and stepped out from behind the bar, heading to one of the tables behind her with a cleaning-rag in his wing-arms. «... If madam will excuse me a moment, I must prepare for the morning business.»

Surprised, she turned and watched him go.

Just like that, he backed out of her challenge?

It was certainly his right, as a Rock engaged by a Star. However, this was not in keeping with his previous reputation. Not that Ebonshield had ever known him personally, but there was disappointment to see how far he had fallen.

She decided to try a compliment to offset her earlier insult. «I do believe that the Engineer Royal enjoyed thy hospitality on Wednesnight.»

In the middle of wiping down a wooden chair, José nodded. «Then madam may convey to him my deepest thanks for his generous business.»

Frustrated, she took another drink of the horchata, emptying the glass but still holding the container in her hooves. She may as well get some other business out of the way while she was there -- and while he continued to block her efforts.

«Wouldst thou be willing to host another conference between him and the ferriers?»

«Certainly, Madam. Though, a little advance notice would be appreciated.»

‘All right, then, good.’

‘Now, enough games.’

«Joseph, I want to know what happened to thee during the Reconquest.»

He did not even lift his head up from his work cleaning a table and setting its chairs. «That story is known to the public already.»

Pawing over the empty glass in her hooves, she swung around one of her wings and batted it up into the air behind her. The glass landed heavily on the counter, rolling on the base before settling down.

«There are certain details which have been kept private.»

A degree of anger crept into his voice -- or was this merely frustration? «Those details are now the property of the Mother Superior. Seek her out if you wish them.»

That would be an interesting conversation, to say the least.

Ebonshield shook her head, grinning, though he was still turned away from her. «I fear that I am not on good terms with the Reverend Mother any more.»

That comment, more than anything else she’d said so far, seemed to give him pause, and he stopped cleaning tables for a moment.

José squinted and looked her up and down, then nodded. «That is surprising, considering the debt Her Reverence owes you.»

‘So, he thinks that Carmen owes me for what I did?’

‘Or, perhaps he thinks I am still her stooge?’

«Names are written in the Book only with payment -- and this payment, he was received long ago...» With nopony about, she decided to relax and speak freely. After all, such free speaking is no less than she was asking from him. «... To the Reverend Mother, the Temple of the Shining Stellar Dance is a tool to be used like any other -- and to be discarded when the tool no longer serves her purpose.»

José narrowed his eyes further, and frowned with his heavy black eyebrows, stepping closer. «Such words are not what I would have expected to hear from the daughter who is most responsible for the present position of her mother.»

In his admission she saw an opening to further shatter his expectations. «Neither is thy misunderstanding of the situation what I would have expected from a colonel of the Howling Wolves.»

His eyes opened wide again, and she could see the fire-red color which was once so famous and so widely admired. With a brief ferocity, he took a strident step towards her, then stopped and glanced, with a certain bitterness, at the cleaning-rag on the table.

His cleaning-rag.

And his table.

«Madam has perhaps forgotten that her humble servant is a colonel of the Wolves no longer.»

Curious, accusing her of doing what he himself had just done.

Still, he clearly held misconceptions that must be dispelled if Ebonshield was to have her answers. «And has demotion of rank and Phase diminished also thy intelligence? Dost thou think I am sworn in allegiance and servitude to the Reverend Mother Carmen, because of blood and milk, and because also that my Temple once provided her a service?»

José grit his teeth.

«That was a service considerable.»

She hopped off her chair and stepped forward, nodding. «And the cost to the House of Vapors was equally considerable; I understand that the Lunar treasury is still empty, the debts to the Rocks still being repaid.»

He marched forward, his thick black mane bobbing against his neck. She met him, and stood, muzzle-to-muzzle and brow-to-brow.

Facing each other as two Stars should.

José growled. «You are still her daughter.»

The argument was so ridiculous that this was almost insulting. Unlike the laconic soldier, the obedient dog who was sworn to howl upon command for his Great Mother, Ebonshield had no attachment to brevity, and poured out her own defenses against him.

«Do such ties truly matter to the Children? Did you obey your parents? Do your own progeny obey you? And this accusation, after I disobeyed her in front of the Great Mother! While my brother cries against me from the bottom of every crater since!»

The heat of passion in his red eyes smoldered. «You disobeyed her? How?»

Ebonshield inhaled, flexing her wings. «The Great Mother wanted a Star to serve as bodyguard to the Engineer Royal. Carmen demanded we force her to choose a Lunar. I chose one Mother over the other.»

José had no answer to this, though she could see the little hooves of thought galloping away behind his eyes.

She pressed her final attack in his confusion. «I do not serve the Reverend Mother Carmen, Joseph, not any more, not since I have come to know her heart. She has forced me to choose to serve the Mother-of-Stars alone.»

Finally, Ebonshield took a step back, deliberately ceding ground before him. «I do not require that thou bowest to me or even that thou 'you'-est to me, but I do need to know what happened to Colonel Alcazar and his Howling Wolves on the night when the Mother-of-Stars returned to her Children.»

José Alcazar, former colonel of the Howling Wolves, demoted to Rock Phase for his failure on the night of the Reconquest, took a deep breath, before neighing the air out softly.

«What dost thou wish to know?»

‘Finally.’

Ebonshield had not participated in the Reconquest; she had remained on the moon. With the great defeat, the nature of the batpony assault on Equestria was known only to Princess Luna, the inner circle of Lunar councillors who had advised her, and the Star-soldiers themselves.

And most of those had been killed in the invasion.

Before her stood one of the only survivors. And of them, the only one who had not been banished to the Shadows darkest and deepest by the Reverend Mother Superior, her mother.

«Where, exactly, did your Howling Wolves strike on that night? How did you fail? And what happened afterwards?»

Sighing, he nodded at one of the chairs.

«Take a seat, and I will tell thee.»

It was just before ten in the morning. Sergeant Purity Ebonshield had woken late; she planned to be up an hour ago. Was she too tardy to deliver her message? Charging down the hallway, the sergeant stopped before the doors of her Royal Engineer, and knocked.

The Corporal Bound answered within moments. "Sergeant? What are you doing here? We didn't need you for the trip to the Watchtower."

Somewhat short of breath, she spoke quickly. "I have a message urgent to deliver to the Engineer Royal before he leaves."

Frowning, she drew her head back in confusion, then nodded and opened the door. "Sergeant Ebonshield, sir. She's got something to report."

Ebonshield stepped inside, and saw her VIP was standing just inside the door, putting the finishing touches on his necktie in front of his mirror.

‘Ay, I have cut things very close indeed.’

Behind him sat the Specialist Glamerspear, looking confused as well.

The tall biped looked down at Ebonshield. "What is it, Sergeant?"

She sat down on her haunches and folded her wings. "Great Lord, this is imperative that, during your meeting with the General Hoofstrong, you make no mention of your plans to work with the batponies."

Anonymous shot a confused glance at Corporal Bound, then back at Sergeant Ebonshield. "To be honest, I wasn't planning on bringing them up. Wouldn't she be subject to this 'Don't Ask, Don't Tell' rule, anyways?"

She shook her head. "Not with you, Great Lord, for you are not in the Guard Royal. She will undoubtedly know that you have a batpony in your quaternion. So she may ask you about me, or the rest of the children. You must not admit to having visited the Rookery, or to having learned of their past, or to having had any dealings with them at all besides me, and even with me you must not mention your training in the arts martial. To do otherwise may cause you difficulties in your negotiations."

His tie half-done, he lowered his hands to his sides. "Why? I gather that batponies may not be well-liked, but your people are still trusted to guard Canterlot palace half the time, aren't they? The Night Guard?"

She nodded. "Yes, but this trust is most fragile; only by the will of the Princesses does the Royal Guard allow this sharing of duties."

The Engineer Royal shrugged. "All right. So what's the problem with Hoofstrong, then?"

Ebonshield took a deep breath. What she was about to say may exceed even the openness desired by the Great Mother.

"The reason there is the 'D-A-D-T,' Great Lord, is because when Princess Luna returned to Equestria as Nightmare Moon, she was accompanied by batpony soldiers. And while our then-leader sought to neutralize the Elements of Harmony which had beaten her before, her Stars assaulted the Royal Guard. On that night, between ponies there was a violence without compare."

He looked suitably concerned, and she continued.

"But after Nightmare Moon was defeated and Princess Luna took her place, this was decided that the only way to begin reconciliation between the two races was to make secret all the horrors of that assault. So the combatants were sworn not to speak of the night, and the casualties concealed, and the battlefield cleansed of any evidence."

The sergeant pointed her hoof at the door through which her VIP intended to step momentarily, unaware of this latest danger which opposed him. "But that battlefield, he was The Watchtower of Canterlot. And the commandant who led the defense of that place, the Equestrian who defeated the attacking batponies but lost so many of her soldiers in the doing, she was the Major General Hoofstrong."

Suggested interlude music: Denez Prigent - 'Gortoz A Ran', as featured in 'Black Hawk Down' [2001]
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5nl1WK-uKxw

Chapter 97

Honour Bound

Corporal Honour Bound was feeling pretty winded. Not even a hike up Canterlot Mountain could hold a candle to the effort required to scale the capital's impregnable bastion, The Watchtower.

Thirty stories tall and designed to house pegasi almost exclusively, it had no elevators, no cranes, and an arcane block against magical teleportation. In brief, there was no quick way up or down unless you could fly. And what amenities were provided for those ponies whose only means of locomotion were hooves -- or non-ponies with feet -- had been built with security in mind first and foremost, and ease of access absolutely dead last. Each single-story staircase traced half the circumference of the great tower itself, but getting to the next set up involved crossing, at each floor, a mini-labyrinth full of blind corners and easy ambush spots.

The Watchtower had never fallen in the history of Canterlot, and it wasn't for lack of trying. Even the batponies had made a go at it, according to Ebonshield -- and they'd failed, despite having wings.

As Honour reached the twenty-fourth floor, she was really starting to pant. Glamerspear, on her left, had been doing that for the last ten floors, and already had some sweat-foam accumulation around her collar and hips. Her horn was lit up, and a teal aura under her barrel told the corporal the unicorn was cheating a bit, using her telekinesis to remove some of the load on her legs.

Honour still hadn’t pointed out to her that she wasn’t in an all-unicorn regiment anymore and that she ought to share her utility spells. Things got a little busy after the last time in the Rookery; it had slipped her mind. But if this was Pony Physical Training, that mini-levitation cantrip she was using would get her a sharp rebuke from the sergeant in charge of the exercise. Since it wasn't, though, Honour was just satisfied she'd found a way to not completely collapse once they reached their destination.

By several hooves, both of them trailed the Royal Engineer, who’d started off with a fast walk, and kept it up the whole way. Of course, as a tall biped, a fast walk for him was a racing trot for the two ponies. The relatively cool air temperature inside the keep was probably the only reason he didn't appear to be sweating up a storm under his black wool suit. That same cool air, plus her earth pony lineage was also the only reason Corporal Bound wasn’t doing as poorly as Specialist Glamerspear.

As they made their way to the second-to-last staircase on the journey up to the major general's twenty-sixth-floor office, Honour passed by the fortress's uppermost landing pad. She paused for just a moment to look it over. For all the terrors it held, Her Majesty's Flying carriage would have gotten them up there a lot faster...

"Don't say it!" Glamerspear shook her head angrily at Honour as she resumed her march.

"What?"

Leaning in, the unicorn hissed angrily. "You were thinking about how much less tired we'd be if we'd ridden that death-trap up to that platform. Well, no ma'am. You couldn't pay me to get in there again, Corporal!"

Honour raised an eyebrow. "The Royal Guard is paying you, Glamerspear. Or are you having problems with Finance?"

Squinting at the corporal, she pulled back. "You know what I mean. I'll take anything over Her Majesty's Flying Terror-iage any day of the week -- even this mountain climbing expedition and the Royal Engineer's land carriage with you at the tiller!"

Honour lifted her eyebrows. "Got a complaint about my driving, Specialist?"

Glamerspear scoffed. "Oh, your driving's fine, Corporal. Managed to get us here without running into or over anything you weren't supposed to." With a wry grin, she chuckled. "It's the look of dread always plastered over your muzzle while you're at the helm that gives me the creeps."

It was true that Honour Bound didn't exactly enjoy being in the driver's seat. She wasn’t afraid, just... tense. Controlling Anonymous' 'automobile' was a real hoof-full, and one that, even after all the drilling and practice she’d done with it, she still didn't feel ready for. Especially not on a busy Saturday morning in Canterlot. Particularly when it was the last shopping weekend before the Grand Galloping Gala. Ponies were walking around everywhere and carriages were darting to and fro, making the city's grand boulevards seem like tight alleys. It could only have been by the will of Princess Celestia herself that she had avoided hitting anypony.

"Here we are, twenty-fifth floor. Just one more to go. Whew, quite a climb!"

‘Oh, thank the blessed sun.’

At the top of the staircase, Honour’s Very Important Pony, who wasn't actually a pony, and who had, so far, made the climb with barely even a grunt of effort, at last paused and pulled a handkerchief out of his trousers pocket, wiping sweat from his forehead.

"Maybe I should have asked to borrow the Royal Flying Carriage again, as when we travelled to Newcastle-upon-Mare."

Honour exchanged a glance with Glamerspear, who appeared absolutely horrified at the suggestion.

With a smile, the Royal Engineer turned around to look back at his two somewhat laggardly guards. “Then again, maybe not, unless the garage can also lend us some parachutes."

Her unicorn comrade sighed with relief, and Honour took the opportunity to give her legs a quick break. "That'd make me feel a lot better about climbing into it, sir. But I think we're better off sticking to solid ground."

"For now, I agree. But you may change your mind if I can put a good aeroplane together later."

This was not the moment to ask what an 'aeroplane' was, so Honour remained silent.

Folding up the cotton square, Anonymous put it away, then tugged at the chain of his pocket-watch and pulled it from his vest. "Fifteen minutes to climb up; looks like we'll be right on time. Okay, let's get this last staircase done with; I don't want to keep the Major General waiting."

The Royal Engineer took off, and Bound and Glamerspear followed right after him.

‘It's only been fifteen minutes?’

Fifteen minutes of a steep and steady ascent, though. The only thing on the corporal’s mind most of the way up was what her VIP was going to do or say when pressed by Major General Hoofstrong.

First, there was the whole issue of his request -- a series of training-fire exercises on the palace grounds less than a week before the biggest annual event in Canterlot, attended by nobleponies from across the nation. Then there was the mistake of having failed to ask permission for that first test, when Glamerspear was getting the hang of pulling lead on a target while Honour was getting a better feel for how the carriage handled at speed.

Beyond those, there was politics and optics. Politics, in how Lieutenant Violetta had sent a complaint, at the Royal Engineer's request, regarding Kilfeather's behaviour during his 'Pas de Sabots' at Newstirrup Bridge -- an event that Hoofstrong herself had orchestrated to further her political aims. Best-case, she did it without knowing about Kilfeather's personal proclivities and is (or will be) disappointed to hear what he tried to pull. That would lend some sympathy to the court-martial case. Worst-case, Hoofstrong didn’t care if the Lieutenant was a bastard, and didn’t like the resulting interference in her objectives.

Bigger questions might be raised about whether the Royal Engineer was, perhaps, an obstacle in her goal of eliminating the purchase of commissions. He was, after all, a noble himself, though not a hereditary one. But then again, the Major was nobility as well.

What was her position, really?

Lieutenant. Vi's report on Hoofstrong's history, as well as Sparkshower's story of her brief encounter in delivering the calling-card, didn't give very much to go on. It painted the picture of a professional warrior, but did that mean she would be politically ruthless? Giving a speech to the troops about pegasi always being ready for a fight didn't sound very diplomatic, but it was the kind of booster speech to be expected from a general.

Then there was the batpony problem. Ebonshield wasn't a part of this visit, but the major general might know about her regardless. Her air patrol might've spotted the sergeant sitting in the stands during that first exercise, perhaps. Or maybe she’d heard about the lunar character from Lieutenant Kilfeather himself; he did meet her, briefly, when he came to demand the return of his scrap-metal helmet.

Would Hoofstrong then also know that the Royal Engineer had been inside the Rookery? The setup at the orchard shed was pretty covert, and it was run by a special unit of Military Ponice. But the pony in charge of the general air defense of Canterlot would probably know all about batpony operations in the area. She might even have a source of intelligence within the 'Royal Undermountain Constabulary' service.

Or if, as Sergeant Ebonshield had suggested, Major General Hoofstrong was bitter about having had to fight the batponies who were now nominally allies, if not full Equestrian citizens, then she might even have operators of her own watching the entrances and keeping track of comings and goings. The powers at the disposal of the major general of the First Air Division were considerable; in the absence of an actual ongoing conflict, she was effectively Canterlot's chief Air Marshal, reporting only to the Grand Marshal of Equestria. And the Grand Marshal only reported to two ponies: Her Majesty's Secretary of Defense, and Her Majesty Princess Celestia herself. Honour’s VIP was, by virtue of being a member of the Blue Chamber, just under Her Majesty as well; two steps above the major general.

And he wasn't even a pony.

If Hoofstrong resented him for that, it could make things very complicated.

"Lord Anonymous, sir! Good morning, and welcome to the Watchtower!"

In the time Honour had been reflecting, the three of them had reached the twenty-sixth floor of Canterlot's ancient defensive bastion, and the headquarters of its premier defenders. Behind the reception-desk, a sergeant major stood up and snapped to attention, as did a dozen other functionaries and clerks in the front office. The guards at the entrance hadn't bothered to give them a military escort; after all, the Royal Engineer already had one. They'd just pointed up and told them that Hoofstrong was on the twenty-sixth floor.

Anonymous politely removed his top hat, now that they were no longer in the bastion's corridors. "Thank you. I'm here to see Major General Hoofstrong, please."

The sergeant lowered his salute. "Of course, sir. She asked that your Lordship be shown right in; if you'll please follow me."

To a nod from the Royal Engineer, the sergeant major stepped out from behind his desk, which was almost immediately re-occupied by another one of the staff so as to not leave the reception vacant. A private pulled open the small fence-door that separated the reception area from the office proper, saluting in the process, and the three of them followed the sergeant major into the depths of the First Air Division's headquarters. It didn’t escape Honour’s notice that the rest of the pegasi in the office maintained their salute until her VIP was well through the double doors at the back of the room. She didn’t see them get back to work, but she did hear the din of paperwork abruptly resume.

The next area, past all the filing cabinets and work-desks, was the map room, with an enormous, to-scale terrain map of the surrounding areas on a table, complete with miniature buildings for Canterlot and Cloudsdale, as well as the villages of the surrounding counties. Pegasi flitted through the air and trotted around on the floor, adjusting small figures and markers representing Royal Guard forces and who-knows-what else. Honour tried to get a close look at Canterlot Mountain; it seemed like it might be hollow and open, but only on the far, eastern side, opposite of where the sergeant major was leading them. Without being able to see it, the corporal couldn’t know for sure what the First A.D. knew about the Rookery and the ponies inside it.

Glamerspear leaned in and whispered to her out the side of her mouth. "Mare, what my brothers wouldn't give to be able to play Hyperspace Hyperwars on that thing... It'd blow their nerdy little minds."

Probably true. However, now wasn’t the time to be making snide comments.

"Cut the chatter until we're back in the carriage, Glamerspear. I don't want us to be responsible for this going wrong."

She nodded, somewhat insincerely. "Yeah, I know. I wasn't going to say anything in front of Hoofstrong."

Honour tapped a forehoof on her helmet, by her ear. "This is her HQ; we're as good as in front of her right now."

Glamerspear didn’t say anything, but after a moment, she nodded, more knowingly and appreciatively.

The sergeant major knocked at a set of double doors to the left of the main map area, and from within Honour could hear a reply.

"Enter."

Pushing open the doors, he stepped aside and allowed their party to pass. "Major General Hoofstrong, ma'am... His Lordship Anonymous, Royal Engineer of Equestria."

Behind a large wooden bureau, in a large, high-backed chair sat a pegasus mare with a scarlet-red coat and a stark white mane cut conservatively short in the front and on top, though hanging a little longer at her withers. She was wearing the full Air Service Dress uniform, with its dark blue jacket, lighter blue shirt, and black tie. There were two silver stars on each of her shoulders, and a hat bearing two more was on the desk, just off to the side. As the Royal Engineer entered the room, she spread her wings and got to her hind hooves, extending a forehoof across the desk to gesture at the chair opposite hers.

"A pleasure to meet you, sir. Won't you be seated?"

"Thank you, Major General. The pleasure is all mine."

As Honour and Glamerspear took up positions flanking the door, Anonymous politely sat down, and one of the major general's aides fluttered over and took his hat and white gloves, placing them delicately on a sideboard.

Once everypony was all settled in, Hoofstrong sat herself back down and looked calmly across her desk at their VIP. "What can I do for you today, sir?"

Anonymous adjusted himself in his chair, then opened as Honour had discussed: with thanks and a mea culpa. "Well, General Hoofstrong, first I would like to thank you for agreeing to meet with me on such short notice, and secondly I would like to apologize for the disturbance I caused earlier this week. In my eager haste to get my work done, I failed to properly investigate the rules around that sort of exercise. I'm sorry for any disturbance caused to your division's normal operations."

It was difficult to read anything in the major general's reserved, sky-blue eyes, or in her flat, almost deadpan voice. "There's no need to apologize for that, sir. Handling disturbances is part of First Air Division's normal operations. And I wouldn't have expected somepony with your background to be aware of Canterlot air control rules."

She glanced over at Honour Bound and Glamerspear, pausing a moment to look at the corporal's epaulets on her shoulders and the Silver Ram around Glamerspear's neck. "You're not in the Royal Guard or even from Equestria, after all. The rules ought to have been made clear to you by your Royal Guard escort, instead."

Honour didn't actually know the Canterlot air control rules; it certainly wasn't something they taught in the VIP Section training course, which dealt entirely with etiquette, and she’d never had to worry about something like 'do not fire rounds up into the sky' given that you couldn't do that.

Glamerspear, however, did admit after the training exercise that she had known.

Honour saw her unicorn comrade tense up slightly, but Anonymous spoke up before anypony else could. "I take responsibility for that failure, Major General. I pressured them to conduct the exercise before they even had the opportunity to consider the rules."

That wasn't in the script they’d discussed this morning. In fact, Honour had volunteered to take the blame if that sort of question had come up. What made him change his mind?

Hoofstrong took his statement without showing any emotion. "I see. And now that you've given your thanks and your apologies for having conducted exercises without authorization, I suppose you'd like to obtain permission to continue those same exercises?"

Very matter-of-fact and to-the-point.

Anonymous folded his hands in his lap. "Yes, General. I'd very much like to resume those tests as soon as possible."

The major general paused, then nodded. "Would your Lordship be able to explain the details with me? The reports I received were inconclusive as to what, exactly, you were trying to accomplish."

Smiling, the Royal Engineer unfolded his hands. "Certainly, General. I was conducting tests of my new Self-Propelled Anti-Aircraft Weapon platform. This consists of a steam-propelled carriage, piloted by Corporal Bound, with Specialist Glamerspear serving as the actual weapon, and myself as their supervisor. Specialist Sparkshower, who delivered my calling-card yesterday, was serving as the target."

Tilting his head sideways, he gestured towards the door. "The vehicle itself is parked outside at ground level, actually; we drove it here to the meeting. I'd be happy to demonstrate it for you."

That got a raised eyebrow from the officer; her first visible reaction. "Thank you, but perhaps another time." Glancing at the aide-de-camp sitting to her left at the long end of the desk, she remarked. "It must be pretty fast, though. I received a report that you had left Canterlot Palace only moments before being notified that you had arrived at the Watchtower's front gate."

‘So she was watching us.’

That didn't really mean anything, though; it was almost literally her job.

Anonymous smiled and leaned back in his chair. "It'll make sixty kilometers per hour without a fuss, Major General, and in spite of its present rather primitive controls, Corporal Bound has become quite skilled at maneuvering it. I'm actually a bit anxious to see what she can do after some improvements I've got planned."

Honour felt a bit flush in her cheeks. He hadn't mentioned giving her a glowing endorsement in front of a two-star general that morning, either. Hoofstrong looked over at the corporal, and even Glamerspear shot a quick glance in her direction. She felt the flushness getting a bit more intense under the sudden scrutiny.

"Interesting. And what provoked your creation of this speedy armed vehicle?"

An uncomfortable question.

Anonymous gestured at Glamerspear as he sidestepped the question. "I had the opportunity to witness Specialist Glamerspear in solo combat." As the Royal Engineer continued on, the general's gaze shifted to Honour’s unicorn comrade. "It seemed to me that her greatest vulnerabilities were her immobility and her need to switch spells between defense and offense. I was already planning to build a self-propelled vehicle as a demonstration of the power of scientific engineering; combining the two requirements was only natural."

Hoofstrong looked back at their VIP. "And this demonstration you're planning... it's for who, exactly?"

Anonymous licked his lips. "Her Majesty Princess Celestia, of course."

With a frown, the major general leaned back in her chair, her forehooves crossed in front of her chest. "Just to summarize, sir. You want to conduct maneuvers involving a Royal Guard infantry NCO driving a carriage around at high speed, with a Royal Guard Air Defense Specialist firing training rounds up at a Royal Guard Armored Scout. And you want to do these on Her Majesty's Royal Eastern Cottage racetrack, on the Palace grounds, less than a week before the Grand Galloping Gala, with the city full of nobleponies, the palace full of laborers, and security on high alert."

She uncrossed her forehooves and placed them on her desk. "You understand, of course, that I have some concerns."

Anonymous nodded, slowly. "I do. But I'm trying to capitalize on a time-sensitive opportunity with the completion of my book, and I'm not aware of any other suitable venue."

Hoof and carriage racing weren't hugely popular in Canterlot; Lieutenant Violetta had pointed that out when the possibility of relocating had come up. The next closest public track was halfway to Ponyville. But when Canterlot was founded, Princess Celestia wanted the capital palace of Equestria to be welcoming to all ponies and to promote all of their cultures, even if it was in a city of unicorns, so the Eastern Cottage track was put in. To Her Majesty's credit, it saw regular use, with a race most weekends in the summer and fall.

The major general loudly breathed in and out, staring at the Royal Engineer. Finally, she seemed to make up her mind.

"You have me in an uncomfortable position, sir. I have enough load on my wings managing the city and the Gala that I don't want to have to worry about something else. But if I say 'no,' you have the power to take it over my head. You sit in the Blue Chamber; you could talk to the Grand Marshal and have the order sent down from on high."

Raising her hooves up, she placed them together, resting her elbows on the table. "The question is, would that be worth your time to do, and how long would it take, and how long would I then need to stall to push it past the Gala, and what would it cost me?" Raising an eyebrow, she continued. "Or is this so important to you that if you fail to get approval, you'll do it anyways and deal with the consequences later?"

Anonymous didn’t have an immediate reply, and even Honour was flabbergasted by the directness of Major General Hoofstrong's question -- or was it more of an accusation? She’d all but said flat out that she expected him to disobey rules to get his way, and that she would disobey a direct order to have her way, too. What kind of reply was she looking for with a statement like that?

The Royal Engineer clasped his hands together, meshing his fingers into each other with a tight grip. "Major General, shortly after arriving here I made it my mission to bring scientific advancement to Equestria. I know from my own world's history that it will inevitably involve ruffling a few feathers and stepping on a few hooves."

Relaxing his wrists, he lowered his hands slightly, still coupled. "But I'm not going to run roughshod over Equestrian institutions and regulations without serious cause. I'm still a visitor here, and I won't offend my hosts' hospitality. If I have to leave your office disappointed, then I'll just find something else to do for the next week."

Hoofstrong pushed her chair sideways. "Maybe there is a way, if you could do something for me."

‘Ah, now we’re back on track.’

‘After the blunt impasse, here comes the political request.’

"I'd be happy to, Major General. What would that be?"

This is the part where she’d ask for the charges against Lieutenant Valiant Kilfeather to be dropped. Lieutenant. Vi had already drawn up the paperwork if that was the price Anonymous was willing to pay. He hadn't been enthusiastic about it.

"I want observers at your exercises, and an invitation for myself and for anyponies of my choosing to attend the final demonstration."

‘What?’

Glamerspear scoffed out in surprise a little too loudly, attracting the attention of the two-star General. "... Is something wrong, Specialist?"

Quickly resuming a formal posture, Honour’s unicorn comrade saluted. "No, ma'am! Sorry for the disturbance, ma'am!"

Ignoring Anonymous, the major general continued to look down her muzzle at Glamerspear. "Nothing wrong, really? Nothing wrong with my request? Were you expecting a different one, maybe?"

Lily went wide-eyed, like she'd just gotten stuck on the tracks with the Friendship Express hurtling towards her. "Like dropping the court-martial challenge against Lieutenant Kilfeather, for example?"

Honour was dumbstruck by the forcefulness of her questions, and the Royal Engineer was completely lost as well.

Glamerspear was completely on her own.

"Maybe I ought to file my own court-martial for the piece of work you did to my star air superiority pegasus' wings. What would you say to that, Specialist?"

Flummoxed, the unicorn didn't know what to say.

"Well? Where's your answer?" Hoofstrong sneered, her words bitingly sharp. "You weren't so tight-lipped about your actions back when you were speaking at the Canterlot Palace Officers' Club last weekend, were you, Centurion?"

‘Oh, buck.’

‘Did this just get personal?’

Glamerspear finally managed to find her voice, though it was a bit lacking. "I... Ma'am, if you... If you..."

The officer instantly snapped back. "If I'd what, Specialist? Stuttered like an epileptic nag?"

Glamerspear inhaled sharply and pulled herself together, almost growling in reply. "No, ma'am. If you knew what Lieutenant Kilfeather was capable of, and if you had heard what he'd said that morning about Specialist Sparkshower, my comrade and my friend, and if you knew what he had planned to do with her if we'd agreed to his 'Pas-de-sabots' surrender demands, then you would've done exactly what I did, ma'am. I don't regret grounding him until his next molting one bit, Major General, ma'am. You can court-martial me if you want, ma'am, but I'll fight it every step of the way." By the end of her rant, Glamerspear was panting and her horn was glowing.

To everypony's surprise, Hoofstrong leaned back in her chair. "Good. I won't tolerate a coward in the Order of the Ram."

Tilting her head back, she brushed a hoof against the side of her mane. "But you should still be more careful when you speak about an action you knew was political in nature. Giving Captain Mailedhoof and his high-society friends a good laugh is all well, but be mindful who's the real butt of the joke."

Nodding, she concluded. "Because in this case, it was me."

Glamerspear, thus diminished, nodded back. "Yes, Major General."

Tilting her head, Hoofstrong looked over at the Royal Engineer. "I'm surprised you let her fight Kilfeather in the first place. You allow your bodyguards a lot more freedom of action than most Canterlot VIPs ever do, Mister Anonymous."

He shrugged. "Who am I to tell them how to handle a social situation? They're the experts here, not me. Kilfeather's demands were outrageous, and maybe even criminal."

She nodded. "That'll be up to the Judge Advocate General to decide." Rolling her head sideways, she smirked. "I don't actually care that your bodyguard trashed my premier air superiority fighter's wings. He achieved the political goal of humiliating Equestria's idle nobility, despite any subsequent mockery at his defeat."

Lifting her eyebrows, the smirk turned into a somewhat creepy smile. "I don't even care that you have a batpony bodyguard, or that you were seen entering their Rookery on multiple occasions, despite my personal history with them."

Now it was Honour’s turn to blurt out in surprise. "You don't? Ma'am?"

Major General Hoofstrong shrugged, relaxing her expression. "No, I don't, Corporal, because even though I personally don't like them and don't personally trust them, I know that your VIP had no say in the assignment. Also, since you went to the trouble of politely asking for a meeting instead of just going straight over my head, I assume you have good reason to go visiting them under the mountain." She turned to Anonymous. "...You do have a good reason, don't you?"

Anonymous rubbed his hands on his knees. "The first time, it maybe wasn't the best reason, General, though I think Princess Luna wanted it to be done. But since then, I've had very good reasons to go, and to continue to go."

The major general nodded, and Honour finally felt like she could start to read the emotions in her eyes. Despite the little theatrics, she’d been calm the whole time.

"I appreciate your honesty, sir, I really do." Yawing her chair to and fro, she lifted an eyebrow. "I also appreciate how you hauled in Lord Bitsmount on charges he should have faced years ago. If I'm sorry about anything related to Kilfeather, it's that he interfered with that operation. It's a shame Bitsmount managed to shake things off onto his underling; I hope you haven't given up on pursuing him."

Anonymous sighed. "No, but I can't do much without any direct evidence."

She nodded. "Of course. And that's another honest answer that I appreciate as well."

Licking her lips, the major general leaned forward again, looking almost eager. "Okay. You want to run your drills on a racetrack which sees little use this time of year at the outer edge of the Canterlot Palace grounds. Doing it now means a bigger headache for me and my staff, but you're pressed for time; okay, fine. It's a prototype of military hardware, so I want to have some involvement -- observationally, at least."

Turning her chair sideways, she tapped a forehoof on the table. "You're talking about a device for shooting down flying things, and I run a division with twice as many wings as brains, so I think you'll agree that I have a vested interest in the matter."

Anonymous chuckled at her joke. "Of course. It was never my intention to keep it a complete secret. I just didn't know who to invite. If you know who will be interested, then by all means bring them along; I'd be happy to have them see the demonstration."

Hoofstrong smiled, turning her chair straight again. "Be careful what you wish for, Lord Anonymous. If I bring along everypony who might want a look at it, then even if your Centurion over there manages to shoot the stars themselves out of the sky while your driver dodges lightning bolts from the heavens and jets of flame from the earth, you'll have twenty contradictory opinions on how you ought to improve it."

Their VIP laughed again. "Heh. To be honest, though, the demonstration is more about proving that engineering can do wondrous things, rather than necessarily leading to the construction of that exact device."

Hoofstrong looked a bit confused, so Anonymous continued. "It's about convincing Princess Celestia to begin the important investments in manufacturing as soon as possible. There's so much more I can do with access to better materials."

The major general licked her lips. "I see. That brings up one more question I have. I've already signed your authorization papers; Lieutenant Cloudhunter will hoof them to you at the front desk. But since you've been honest with me so far, I'd appreciate it if you could be honest with me one more time."

She already knew about the batponies, about the Rookery, about Kilfeather, about Bitsmount… Even about Glamerspear blabbing to all the nobleponies in the Canterlot Palace Officers' Club in order to score herself a rich salt-lick in Captain Mailedhoof! What else could she possibly want to know?

Anonymous folded his fingers together again. "What's the question?"

Hoofstrong leaned back in her chair, lowering one foreleg onto the leg-rest.

"Why does Her Majesty Princess Celestia trust you so much?"

‘What?’

‘What kind of a question is that?’

As if to answer the corporal’s thoughts, she elaborated. "You're a creature of a kind nopony had ever seen before, and you hadn't been in Equestria for more than two months before Princess Celestia and Her Majesty's Privy Council created a new station and elevated you to the second-highest political body in the land: Lord of the Blue Chamber. Why?"

Anonymous took a moment to reflect, then slowly shook his head. "I don't know, and that's the honest answer."

Hoofstrong wasn’t quite finished with him, however. "Did you show off some other engineering invention? Or was it something you said?"

The Royal Engineer shrugged. "I didn't have anything to show off; I arrived with barely even any clothes on my back. All I had was just what I knew: my world, its wonders, its history, its culture. All I did was talk; to both of Their Majesties, and to experts they selected as well. I'm glad they believed me, and I'm honored by what they gave me, but I was surprised when they told me where they wanted to put me."

He frowned. "Why does it matter to you, General?"

She shook her head. "I suppose it doesn't. I just like to know who I'm dealing with."

Getting to her hind hooves, she extended a forehoof. "That's all from me, sir. Everything will be cleared for your exercises. Notify the CPMO at least two hours before you begin; they'll pass the word on to my division so I can have somepony there to observe, if I can spare them."

Anonymous stood up and shook the proffered hoof.

"Thank you, Major General. I appreciate it."

Chapter 98

Lily Glamerspear

Specialist Lily Glamerspear hadn’t been dressed-down that badly by anypony since… Well, not since her mom caught her out on the street stumbling home blind drunk after a party in high school.

She'd trotted Lily right up the apartment stairs to the third floor, sat her down on the sofa, woken up the whole family (maybe even the whole building), and then proceeded to give her the business. All in front of her four older brothers, who’d kept quiet, and her hungover dad, who didn't.

The bucking hypocrite.

In the end, mom had failed to scare her straight off of booze, though the experience of that night -- her shouting, plus the voluminous amounts of vomiting she’d later underwent in the washroom -- did at least lead to a change in Lily’s behaviour, and she never again left a party so completely hammered. At least, not while her mom was working day shifts at the hospital.

When she was rotated to the night shift, on the other hoof...

Well, even then.

Her brothers got the hint when she'd laid into them for failing to keep watch over her, and they stepped up their supervision, though they mostly kept it subtle and hooves-off. For a pack of dorks, they could be pretty sneaky when they needed to.

That was almost five years ago, and nopony had berated her quite so severely since, though that fight with Sparkshower over the Gala ticket came close. And, sure, the 'shoe camp drill sergeants could shout pretty loud, but that didn't count either; they were SUPPOSED to ride everypony rough in order to break in the foals and turn 'em into warriors. Even if the perfect soldier stepped in through the paddock gates, they'd still find something to complain about, and 'shoe camp drill-sergeant insults bordered on rear-up comedy.

No, Major General Hoofstrong's criticism had stung, and it was for the same reason her mother's words had stung, too. Both of those old mares were right, and Lily knew it. It wasn't proper for a teenage filly to be blundering into Manehattan trashcans, staggering around in a stupor at three in the morning. And it was a dirty deed to gloat about shredding Kilfeather's wings to a room full of noblepony officers, too.

Though it certainly had achieved Lily’s short-term objectives: access to Captain Mailedhoof's loins, and through them, his wallet as well. But it sure put her Very Important Pony, who wasn't actually a pony, in a bit of a tight spot with the major general. Hoofstrong was trying to put a horseshoe to nobleponies just like Mailedhoof, who bought their way into the fashionable palace guard and pretended to serve their country, all while slacking at their duties with the knowledge that their regiments were seldom called upon for anything beyond pomp and circumstance.

Lily had to respect a mare like that; especially one who, despite her own noble heritage, had enlisted as a common soldier first, then prestiged as a mustang into the officer corps. Much like she had to respect her own mother, who worked long, awkward hours at a tough job to put hay on the table and help four of her foals through college, and all while saddled down by a roving, alcoholic, miscreant tramp of a husband.

It was something for Lily to ponder, alright, as she telekinetically opened the Royal Engineer's chamber-doors ahead of him.

‘What’s next for today, though?’

‘More exercises, as he wanted?’

Lily was game to put some more rounds into the sky, and into Artemis' shields. Whether the pegasus would be up to receive them in her current, miserable state, however...

"I think that went rather well, don't you?" Anonymous spoke up for the first time since the meeting with Hoofstrong ended, besides the little guidance he gave Corporal Bound on maneuvering his automobile through traffic.

"Yes, sir."

Honour had been pretty quiet, too, though that was hardly out of character for her.

As Lily and the corporal took up their places astride the double doors, the Royal Engineer turned to face the unicorn, his hands on his hips. "What do you think, Specialist?"

‘What, Honour's answer wasn't good enough for him?’

She shrugged. "Yeah, it went well. You got what you wanted, didn't you, sir?"

He nodded. "I did, didn't I? More than I wanted, even."

Suddenly energetic, he smiled and loosened his tie. "I think I'm still a little shocked by how easy it was, after all the dire warnings there'd been. I was almost hoping one of you would point out that it had actually gone badly after all." He laughed, unbuttoning his collar and cuffs.

Lily chuckled along, but it was Honour who spoke up, furrowing her brow. "Actually, I was thinking about that on the way back, sir..."

Anonymous grinned. "Daydreaming while driving, Corporal? You must really be getting comfortable behind the tiller."

She swallowed. "Yes, sir. A little. But, as to Major General Hoofstrong... Divisional appointments are subject to Her Majesty's approval. In Equestria's history, plenty of aspiring field commanders have been shunted into desk jobs in the Great General Staff instead -- not that that's a bad place to be, of course, but Princess Celestia is often said to have had a hoof in it."

The Royal Engineer cocked an eyebrow as he hung up his jacket. "What are you saying, Corporal?"

Sucking on her lips, she shook her head. "I don't know exactly, sir. Maybe we should have recognized that Her Majesty wouldn't have put Hoofstrong in command of the First Air Division if she didn't think she wasn't good at handling ponies, both those under her command and those outside of it. Like the nobles of the city, or yourself, for example."

She wasn't spouting crazy talk. As much as Celestia was held up as a sort of all-loving mother-figure of Equestria, she was also often considered to be kinda... eccentric. Her obsession with cake, for one, often made the tabloids and gossip rags, though it was rarely scandalous, and the Princess always laughed off anypony who approached her about it. A couple of times a year 'Canterlot Match' would manage to snap a photo of her halfway into some unbecomingly enormous mouthful of cake, for example. 'Princess Celestia spotted gobbling down thick chocolate roll,' that sort of thing. But the interesting stuff came from ponies who regularly attended Day Court, where Celestia had a reputation of being 'playfully cryptic,' in the words of Canterlot Match's political correspondent. Exerting a little influence like selecting general staff versus field officers based on sociability would be just the kind of decision she might make.

Rolling up his sleeves, Anonymous nodded his head. "In other words, if she really was obstinate and hard to deal with, Her Majesty wouldn't have allowed the appointment. I suppose it's possible, though I certainly don't know Equestria's sun-sovereign well enough to say for sure."

That brought to mind something else Hoofstrong said during the meeting.

"Is it really true what you told the Major General, sir? About your appointment?"

The Royal Engineer looked over at Glamerspear, suddenly no longer quite so energetic, as she continued.

"... You really don't know why Princess Celestia appointed you to this post?"

It was a bit hard to believe that somepony appointed to the Blue Council wouldn't know why. Lily felt certain Hoofstrong knew why Celestia agreed to her appointment as commander of the First Air Division.

Anonymous turned his head sideways and licked his lips. "I really don't, Specialist."

She cocked an eyebrow. "And you never asked why?"

He shook his head. "No. It was so much of a shock to me at the time that I didn't think to question it. Since then, it's still been a bit of a mystery, but not enough for me to feel it was worth bringing up." Shrugging, he slipped his hands into his trousers pockets. "I suppose I could ask the next time I see Her Majesty, but it almost feels like I'd be questioning the trust she placed in me if I did."

Lily looked over at the corporal, hoping for a little backup from Ms. Understands-the-Inner-Workings-of-the-Officer-Corps, but she appeared lost in thought.

‘Guess it’s down to me and my rumors, courtesy of the Officers' Club and the 'Canterlot Match' gossip pages.’

"I mean... I doubt Her Majesty would be offended. I've never heard of her being offended about anything, actually -- and believe me, she's had to deal with some real bozos at Day Court." Lily’s eyes bulged open when she put a few numbers together. "...Probably a lotta bozos, when she's been holding Court for over a thousand years."

It was kind of a weak argument, and Anonymous' disbelieving expression told her as much, but the corporal sent some supporting fire her way. "Her Majesty also runs a private school for gifted unicorns here in Canterlot; the classes are mostly taught by other ponies, but Princess Celestia takes a personal hoof in tutoring particular students and even in teaching one or two of the courses."

With the Royal Engineer's attention, she continued. "Some of Equestria's best mages graduate from that school, and they almost universally praise Her Majesty for opening their eyes to questioning everything around them."

Anonymous nodded. "All right, I'll think about it. But the next time I see Princess Celestia, I want first and foremost to impress her with our little demonstration. It's crucial that I show her what I can do with just bronze and brass while I talk about what I could do with steel."

He looked Lily in the eye, and she beamed a smile. "I'm game for another exercise this afternoon, sir."

Honour managed a thin-lipped equivalent when he turned his attention towards her. "I'm good, sir. I'm not so sure about Specialist Sparkshower, though."

The Royal Engineer took a seat on a stool in front of his workbenches. "Yes, I'm not surprised that she needs a little more time to recover. That was quite a break-up; give her my best when you break for lunch, won't you?"

"Yes, sir."

Picking up one of the random brass gizmos from the table, he turned it over in his hands. "To be honest, I was actually thinking of working some more on the mechanicals of the car today. I've got some changes that should make you happier in the driver's seat, Corporal."

To his surprise, she interrupted him. "Like a steering wheel, or brake and accelerator pedals, sir?"

Anonymous' shock turned to delight, and he laughed. “Ha! You have been reading my book, Corporal! Yes, exactly that; the delivery yesterday was springs, pedals, and linkage for a system of inboard brakes that won't be so easily left on by accident -- or cooked off if they are. The steering wheel needs gearing, which is a bit complicated, so I'm leaving it for later. You're not having difficulty with the tiller, are you? I figured that stopping and going was the more pressing problem."

Corporal Bound's thin smile turned into something a little more legitimate. "I'm managing the tiller just fine, sir. But I would certainly appreciate more control over acceleration and deceleration."

He nodded. "You'll get it. The only other thing on my mind is, after a day spent underneath the wheels of that carriage, I'm going to want to stretch my legs and get some exercise in the evening. I was hoping we could maybe visit the Rookery again tonight, try some more moves in the Grand Hall of Stars."

‘Oh, buck.’

Lily didn't have anything against sparring with the Royal Engineer. It was tiring, sure, but he was an entertaining target. And she was looking forward to speaking with Ignacio, the 'Balladeer of Ghosts,' again. The problem was, she’d gotten a calling-card from Captain Mailedhoof that morning. He wanted to meet for dinner and cocktails, and she knew what would happen afterwards. She didn't want to disappoint her wealthy benefactor -- at least, not until she’d picked up her Gala dress from Louis Valise!

Waving a hand, Anonymous continued. "But then I realized what day it is and decided against it."

‘Oh, thank Celestia.’

"What do you mean 'what day it is,' sir?"

‘Damnit, Honour!’

‘Don't buck this up!’

Lily needed Mailedhoof's saddle-purse, and to be honest, she appreciated the flank it was attached to, as well. For a blue-blooded noblepony who'd been born to a silver trough endlessly full of hay, the Captain sure knew how to plow her fields. ‘Unf,’ she was getting a bit hot under the collar just thinking about his mighty stroke...

Anonymous put on a wry smile. "It's Saturday, Corporal. I may not have much of a social life going on right now, but I do remember what it's like. I'm not going to steal away your Saturday evening just so I can have some fun swinging wooden swords in the sand."

‘Wow.’ Lily really did luck out on the lottery with this Very Important Pony.

And he wasn't even a pony!

Corporal Bound shook her head. "Sir, you really shouldn't be-"

‘DAMNIT HONOUR!’

Anonymous just held up a hand. "I've already made my decision, Corporal. I'll work on the car today, jog around in the evening, then tomorrow we can all sleep in, conduct another exercise in the early afternoon, and visit the Rookery later at night. Makes sense?"

With a rueful look, she nodded. "Yes, sir."

Passing the gadget from one hand to the other and back again, the Royal Engineer glanced between the two of them. "Two young Royal Guardsmares in the capital city, in early spring? Don't tell me neither of you can get a date on a Saturday night."

Lily puffed out her tuft a little bit. "There's a calling-card upstairs from a gentlecolt inviting me out later, sir."

He looked over at Honour, who sheepishly fessed up as well. "I've... got a dinner date tonight, too."

‘AHA!’

Wait, was she so nervous about seeing her slow-playing coltfriend again that she wanted their VIP to override her plans? ‘This mare, I swear.’ Her view was so screwed up she needed a good, eye-crossing rutting just to straighten her out again.

"Well, I hope he's a gentlecolt, too, Corporal. Now, who's on the evening shift today?"

Honour took a deep breath, settling back down after her embarrassing revelation. "Sergeant Ebonshield, sir."

Anonymous held his hands up, palms forward. "Just an idea, Corporal, but... I wonder if it would be good for Specialist Sparkshower to instead assist me in working on the automobile tonight. Maybe it's just me, but I find that simple physical work helps me refocus when I'm stressed." He chuckled awkwardly. "You should've seen how quickly I finished changing all eight damn spark plugs in my Mustang after my break-up, when I'd been angrily sitting on fixing the thing for most of the summer after breaking two of them off in the engine."

‘A what plug?’

‘For a Mustang?!’

It sounded like some kind of bizarrely personalized pony sexual accessory...

Shrugging and waving one hand dismissively, he continued. "Anyways, she's also a good jogging partner, so that works out well, too. See if she's interested, maybe? But only if you think it's a good idea for her, Corporal. It doesn't really matter either way if it's her or Ebonshield helping me wrench in the evening; I just need somepony to pass me tools and help me check alignments. Simple work."

Honour nodded. "Yes, sir. I think it might be good for her, but I'll check first... Which reminds me, sir, I wanted to ask you something else about the meeting."

The Royal Engineer dropped his hands to his sides. "You too? Sure."

‘Now what mustard's gotten up her snout?’

"Sir, how come you took the blame for failing to look up regulations? That was my duty, and we agreed I'd admit responsibility for it."

Anonymous sighed. "I know we talked about it before leaving, Corporal, and I did remember the discussion. It was a bit of a spur-of-the-moment decision; after our talk, I decided that I ought to try to be more answerable for my actions here. I can't go on playing the 'newly-arrived-alien' card forever, and I do still feel responsible for rushing into the exercise without considering things. You certainly couldn't drive around a racetrack firing rounds up into the air in my world without jumping through some legal hoops first."

Standing up, he put the metal doohickey back down. "The way Hoofstrong seemed to be eyeing the two of you also put me on the defensive; I don't really know why. But I thought taking responsibility for ignorance of the rules would cost me nothing on top of what I'd already said, anyways."

It made sense to Lily, but she knew exactly what Corporal Bound was gonna say.

'We're your guards, sir, you're not supposed to cover for us, we're supposed to cover for you.'

"But we're your guards, sir. You're not supposed to protect us; we're supposed to protect you."

‘Damn, Glam, you should've seriously considered a career in telepathy.’

The signing bonus for enlisting as a 35PSY was huge. Lily was sure she could only do personal interrogations, though; one-on-one, up-close and personal. Maybe with a little bit of conjured physical persuasion for uncooperative subjects, heh. She’d definitely never survive sitting in one of those sensory-deprivation chambers they used for long-range empathic scanning, that's for sure.

‘Ah, who am I kidding, I could never be a 35PSY, or any other Pony Other than Grunt.’

‘14E Air Defense all the way; screw those fat-plot POG jobs.’

The Royal Engineer raised his hands. "Yes, Corporal, I know, but I'm not going to make you take a hit that wouldn't so much as scratch me. Admitting responsibility cost me nothing -- in fact, it may have even put Hoofstrong more on my side, given how pleased she was with my honest approach overall. I'm sorry I went back on our agreement, but I won't apologize for my snap decision. It was the right call in the end."

‘Jeez.’

‘He almost sounds a bit upset.’

Honour must've pressed him on this kind of stuff before, and he seemed tired of hearing it.

‘Well, he's the boss.’

Corporal Bound was appropriately contrite. "Yes, sir."

Taking a deep breath, Anonymous looked around his room. "Okay, then. Let's break for lunch; I'm going to change into my coveralls, gather up my tools and parts, and call for a porter to haul everything to the carriage-house. See you after lunch, Corporal. And have a good afternoon, Specialist."

Following Honour’s example, Lily spoke in turn. "Yes, sir."

She pulled open the door and saluted as Corporal Bound left the room. Still saluting towards the Royal Engineer, she backed out and shut the door behind her. Honour had already started walking down the hall, and Lily scurried up after her.

"Hey, Corporal?"

Appearing frustrated, she didn’t even look in her direction. "Yes, Specialist?"

"How many times have you given him that whole the-guard-dies-and-does-not-surrender spiel?"

That got her a sharp glare. Then the corporal inhaled sharply and looked forward again.

"A few."

Lily trotted up so she could look back at her. "Yeah? And how many more times you gonna give it before he finally tells you to shove it up your plot?"

‘Ooh, foal, the look she's giving me right now -- smoldering!’

"Until he understands that we're supposed to be disposable, and he isn't, Glamerspear."

Lily laughed.

‘This mare is crazy, all right.’

"Come the buck on, Corporal! You want to fall on your spear so badly -- why? Just to prove that you can?"

Honour just stared silently at Glamerspear, so she continued. "Look, I know you've been a VIP bodyguard for a while, now-"

"Yes, I have, Glamerspear."

‘Yeah, okay, sure, mare, just buckin'... listen for once.’

"Yeah, but I don't get how you don't see that we're just supposed to be window dressing for VIPs like the Royal Engineer. And if he wants to hang us up one way, then who are we to say no?"

This time, she stopped. "We are not window dressing, Glamerspear. Disposable, yes, but window dressing, no." Before Lily could fully screw up her eyebrows, Honour prodded a hoof into the specialist’s chest armor. "While you were outside gunning down Changelings, I spent the invasion piling furniture in front of windows and doors and fending off bug scouts while my terrified VIP cowered in their palace chamber's washroom." She stamped that same hoof down on the carpeted floor. "And the Royal Engineer is doing good work for Equestria. Important work. If you'd read that book of his or listened to him talk about his inventions, you'd know that he deserves every bit of protection we can give him, even if he doesn't want it."

Sitting down on her haunches, Lily pleaded with her stubborn Corporal -- was there any other kind? "Okay, sure, yes, I like him and his automobile is pretty cool and if he needs somepony's muzzle caved in with a conjured spear or two all he's gotta do is point and tell me 'go;' I get it. But when it's a minor detail like this business of apologizing to Hoofstrong, why are you going after him like this? It's as if you're trying to pick a fight! Is this what happened when you told him off for having his furniture moved around without a bodyguard escort, too?"

She didn’t answer, so Lily chuckled. "I mean, what, are you one of those mares who starts an argument just for the make-up bouquet of flowers afterwards?"

"Buck off, Glamerspear."

‘Ha!’

‘Touched a nerve, there!’

"Well, what is it, then?"

Honour just shook her head. "I don't owe you an explanation for my actions any more than I've already given you, Glamerspear. If you don't like it, you just sit there with your mouth closed the next time it happens. But I'm sure as buck not trying to start an argument for argument's sake."

Resuming her walk toward the stairs, she grumbled. "Now, drop it and let's go grab Sparkshower for lunch, see how she's doing."

Sighing, she turned the corner with Lily at her side. "You want to talk about a personal problem, forget the one you're imagining I have, and instead focus on the quaternion member who's just broken up with the only coltfriend they've ever had, in just about the roughest way it's possible to have broken up."

Well, Honour was right about that. Hopefully, Sparkshower would take to light work with the Royal Engineer like... like the Royal Engineer took to spark plugs on a mustang?

That still sounded dirty to her.

Chapter 100

Lily Glamerspear

Specialist Lily Glamerspear had a headache. And it was entirely her own fault.

She was back in her quaternion's quarters on the second floor of Canterlot Palace. She’d drunk until she was blued at the officers' canteen -- on Captain Mailedhoof's dime, of course. Then that same colt blue-beaned her with a quick pump-and-dump in his 'guest room.'

And what did she decide to do after she unhappily, and unsoberly, half-staggered her way back home? Why, she sat down at the card-table and pulled open 'De Magia Unicornis' to wrack what few brain cells were left still functional in order to try to figure out -- yet again -- how the batpony 'Balladeer of Ghosts' had managed his trick at the sand pit. It was like trying to cram for an exam at the literal last minute, but Lily didn't have anything better to do. Besides, she’d probably run into Ignacio on tomorrow night's planned expedition. And she didn't like the idea of showing up empty-hoofed, with no answer to his puzzle. So, 'De Magia Unicornis' it was.

"Guh." Lily expressed her frustration aloud to no-one in particular.

Her brothers, who were in a position to know, all called that book 'the only textbook a university-bound unicorn would ever need,' and she’d even had some exposure to it beforehoof. Back when she was too young to even know what a good party was, let alone sneak out to get blind drunk at one, she did used to -- ‘ugh’ -- hang out with her brothers. Lupin, the oldest, liked to give nightly 'lectures' from 'De Magia Unicornis'; picking a section and then explaining the basics. He wasn't in university at that point, but he'd practically slept with the tome ever since their mom had scraped together the bits to buy it for his 14th birthday. Given how familiar the sections felt to her now, a decade later, he must have done a good job.

Flipping the pages aimlessly, scraping her hooves and her mind to try to find an answer, she found herself staring at a familiar section title.

'On the Debilitating Effects Caused by the Overuse of Magic'

Bored, Lily read over the symptoms that had afflicted her just a week ago.

'Nausea and vomiting'

That had come immediately after firing off that enormous burst at Val.

‘Diarrhoea’

That had taken a little while to come in, and -- thank Celestia -- it hadn't been too bad.

'Headache'

‘For sure.’

'Fever'

‘Yeah, and fever-dreams too.’

'Dizziness and disorientation'.

‘Yep.’

'Cognitive impairment'

‘Oh yeah.’

Every single symptom -- Lily’d had it.

With a sigh, she absentmindedly kept reading.

'Effects Upon the Unborn Childe'

"Eww, ick."

But morbid curiosity kept her reading along anyways. 'If the mother should overuse magic while a foal is still within her wombe, then that childe will be borne suffering from effects both severe and permanent. The childe may suffer blindness of the eyes...'

"Oh, come on! 'Blindness of the eyes' -- where else are they gonna be blind, old colt who wrote this thing?"

Lily shook her head. It was bad enough that she had to deal with 'Ye Archaic Languagee,' to have to deal with crappy formatting and awful grammar, too. Did they pay by the word back then or something?

'... or they may suffer from limbes twisted and gnarled as if from leprosy...'

"Gross!"

'... and in all cases it is assured that the childe shall be sterile.'

Lily scrunched up her snout for that one.

‘So if mom gets hopped up on mana while she's pregnant, baby pops out blind, sterile, and deformed?’

‘That sure buckin' sucks.’

Lily stared at the page for a few more moments, the letters blending into each other.

‘Wait a minute…’

In the haze brought on by six griffonese vodka shooters and one abortive orgasm, Lily thought back to the batpony mage, who’d said that any batpony born during an eclipse would become one of their sorcerers...

... and be cursed with blindness, sterility, and crippled limbs.

"Foal of a b-"

Lily dropped her outburst when the hallway door suddenly opened. In stepped Honour, wearing her mess dress, the top buttons undone. She didn’t look too happy. Lily glanced at the clock.

It was barely nine-thirty.

"You're back early, Corporal."

Honour stopped and shot the unicorn a tired, dismissive glance. "Something wrong with my arrival time, Specialist?"

‘Oh, that's right, I’m dealing with extra-grumpy Honour today.’

‘Sheeesh, I thought a date would have cheered her up.’

Lily just shrugged. "No, but weren't you out with Mister Slow-Play tonight? What is this, date number five? Or six? Talk about not bucking on the first date..."

Honour’s only response was to grumble and look away, so Lily carried on. "I thought you liked him? When's he gonna make a move on you? Or you on him?"

The corporal took a deep breath, then fixed Lily in her gaze. "Not that it's any of your business, but as a matter of fact, he did make a move on me tonight."

‘Buckin' finally!’

"That's good to hear. So why are you here instead of boinking each other in a hotel bedroom?"

She rolled her eyes. "Believe it or not, Glamerspear, I like colts for more than just what they've got slung below their saddles. It wasn't that kind of proposal."

‘Now there's an interesting word to use.’

"Oh? What kind of 'proposal' was it?"

Honour lifted her eyebrows. "He asked me to come live with him. Back in Fillydelphia."

Now it was Lily’s turn to lift her own brow up. "Really? You like this colt, right? I mean, really like?"

Honour nodded. "Yeah, I've known him for years. He's a good colt, and a good friend. A good soldier, too."

Lily leaned over a bit. "So you said 'yes'?"

Honour nodded again. "I did."

Glamerspear smiled and leaned over some more. "Great... So why aren't you boinking him right now?"

As the corporal rolled her eyes, Lily found herself leaning dangerously far over, and had to stamp a hoof down on the table just to keep her balance. "... I'm just sayin', if a colt I liked, I mean really liked, popped the big question on a Saturday night, I sure wouldn't be walking back to barracks all depressed looking at nine-bucking-thirty." With a chuckle, she struggled a bit to sit back up straight again. "I'd be spending the night trying to suck his brains out through his loins, and getting bucked so hard my grandma'd feel it. I'm talking put-quintuplet-foals-in-me levels of deep."

Honour scrunched up her snout. "You're drunk, Glamerspear."

Lily giggled. "Yeah, a little. Gotta have some booze in me to look over this damn thing." She gestured her forehooves at the book spread open before her.

The corporal nodded at the text. "Still trying to figure out the batpony's spell?"

Turning to the tome, the unicorn nodded along with her. "Yeah... Think I figured somethin' else out. Buck if I can see the use of it, though."

Lily looked back in her direction, hooking a foreleg over the back of her chair. "That 'Balladeer of Ghosts' colt, he's got all the symptoms of his mom having had acute mana poisoning. Maybe it's got to do with being born under the eclipse, I dunno. Doesn't really help me understand his magic, anyways."

Flipping the cover closed, she threw her free foreleg up in the air. "And as for why I'm back here already, I guess you could say that after just one week of 'dating,' I seem to have already exhausted the good manners of his Lordship, the honorable Captain Montgomery Mailedhoof." Lily shrugged. "By which I mean he got his and then told me to scram. All after having showed me off in the canteen to his well-heeled friends, of course." Pushing the book away, she slouched down in her chair, feeling deflated. "I'm a bit drunk and more than a bit unsatisfied. I was just wondering if you'd suffered a similar fate, that's all... Sorry if it was crass, Corporal."

Honour sat down on her haunches and ran a forehoof back and forth over her chin and under her muzzle. "Yeah... Okay..."

Then she nodded at the cup in front of Glamerspear on the table. "...What are you drinking, there?"

Lily glanced down at it. "Just water."

Standing up again, Honour stepped over to the table and pulled back one of the empty chairs. "Pour me some, would you?"

In the time it took Lily to brusquely levitate over another one of the copper cups and fill it from the water jug -- spilling only a little bit! -- Honour got herself situated in the chair to her left.

Honour lifted up the cup in her forehoof as if making a toast, so Lily followed along.

"To colts, Specialist -- and to the problems they cause."

‘Weird toast, but okay.’

"To colts, Corporal."

Lily tipped her cup back and took a good mouthful, but Honour drained the whole tumbler in one go. Almost slamming the empty vessel down on the table, she motioned with one forehoof for Lily to pour her another.

‘It's just water, Corporal.’

‘Celestia, she must be as hammered as I am.’

‘Maybe even more.’

Lily seized the jug in her aura and took her time tipping it over. She didn’t really want to waste any more from spillage, because if the earth pony was still thirsty when it was empty, she knew exactly who Honour would send to fill it up again. And Lily wasn’t sure she wanted to stagger around in Her Majesty's palace corridors any more tonight.

"Why do you do it, Lily?"

The sudden question disturbed her gentle telekinetic grip, and a bit of water sloshed out onto the table.

"Huh?"

"The whole saltine-and-salt-lick arrangement. Why do you hook up with jerkwad noblecolts? Is it just for the money?"

‘Geez, she must really be smashed.’

‘She used my first name, too!’

"The money, sure, a little. Then there's the gifts -- the fancy clothes, the nice jewellery-"

Honour interrupted before she could continue, jerking a forehoof behind her at the unicorn’s door. "Mino-dung. Have you seen your wardrobe? The doors don't close and the drawers don't either -- the thing is full to bursting. The jewelry boxes, too. If I thought the Royal Engineer was ever coming up here for an inspection, I'd have made you throw half that stuff out -- or tucked it away in a chest in the palace cellar, at least. You don't need some noblepony giving you any more."

Picking up her water, she took a sip before continuing. "Besides, you know how to get good stuff for a bargain. You found Gala dresses for Artemis and me both, with accessories and within the budget of a couple of Equestria's enlisted mooks. Is it worth going through all this just for some jewels and silk?"

‘This is getting a bit personal.’

‘Well, those who live by the gossip…’

"There's the society, too. The fancy clubs, the gourmet restaurants, the opening-night shows... Places I would never be able to go otherwise."

The corporal narrowed her eyes. "Griffon-guano! You've got good looks, Lily. You're wasting it on these temporary arrangements. Why don't you find a real colt who's actually interested in you? You've got talent -- you're a bucking war hero, for Celestia's sake. And if you can read that thing and understand it--"

She gestured at 'De Magia Unicornis.'

"--then you could probably read anything else you put your mind to, too! Why the buck did you enlist in the Guard? How come you didn't go to University? You could almost be commissioning as a lieutenant by now."

Lily scoffed. "Because I didn't want to, that's all. I wanted the glamor, and I didn't want the responsibility or that kind of workload. And if we're gonna talk about reading big books, I think you've got me beat -- I'm just trying to figure out one or two puzzles. You're the pony who's sucking straight from the Royal Engineer's brain-hose with that 'Theory of Science and Industry' book of his."

Slouching in her chair, Honour grumbled. "It's written in modern, easy to read Equestrian. He wanted it to be accessible to the everypony. Not like your archaic treatise on magic."

Lily leaned an elbow on the table and pointed a hoof at the corporal. "Yeah, but you've got it so memorized you buckin' know what he's gonna do to his carriage before he announces it! Come the buck on, if you can memorize random crap like that, you're the one who oughtta be an officer, not me!"

After a moment in silence, Lily reactivated her telekinesis and lifted the water jug up to fill Honour’s cup. "Anyways, if you just accepted a colt's proposal, then we should be celebrating, shouldn't we? I still have some leftover liquor from last week, if you want."

The corporal shook her head. "No. No more liquor for me tonight. I've had enough."

Lily shrugged. "So what's the problem between you and him? You think I oughtta settle down, why don't you tell me how come you can't, first?"

Honour took a deep breath and slouched even more in her chair. "There's nothing wrong between us. I probably would be sleeping with him right now -- if he hadn't also given me some news that spoiled the mood. That's all."

"What kinda news?"

She shook her head again. "The kind where the less said, the better. Nothing to do with him, either. It'll blow over after the Gala is done with, anyways."

‘Strange attitude to have, but whatever. Must be some kinda weird news from home.’

Lily tried to stare down at the cover of 'De Magia Unicornis,' but the cover was a bit blurry. Lowering her snout, she rubbed her eyes with her forehooves.

‘Damn, did somepony steal half my liver or something?’

Six drinks used to mean nothing; Lily used to be able to slam them back and be ready for six more, with zero hangover the next day.

Honour glanced over at the wall clock. "I guess we won't be seeing Ebonshield tonight."

Lowering her hooves, the unicorn snorted. "Yeah, she said she was going to play 'Hyperspace Hyperwars' with that university-frat dweebling she's got tucked in her saddlebag."

She grinned. "You wanna talk about settling down, Honour, talk to 'Miss Purity' over there, preying on colts young enough to be her foals."

That got her an affirmative snort, and Honour twisted her head towards Sparkshower's room, where the door was open. "Did Artemis go out for a late-night snack? Working in the carriage-house with Anonymous tire her out?"

Lily shrugged. "Beats me, Corporal. I haven't seen her, and I've been here since eight-thirty."

The earth pony frowned, and the unicorn tried to focus on the wall clock herself.

‘Buck off, it's almost ten.’

Sparks had the metabolism of a pegasus, all right, eating three times as much as Lily did, but she also had the appetite of a bucking timber wolf, gobbling up her enormous meals before Lily would get barely halfway through hers. So there was no way she’d spent two hours at the canteen after her shift.

"Maybe they're still in the carriage-house?"

Honour scrunched up her snout. "This late? Even the Royal Engineer needs his sleep. And after he insisted on not spoiling our evening plans with a trip to the Rookery, it'd be weird of him to keep Sparkshower working this late."

A thought entered Lily’s mind, and she shrugged her eyebrows. "Maybe they're not working."

The corporal slowly turned her head to face the specialist’s, her eyes narrow like slits. "What do you mean, 'not working'? What else could they be doing?"

Lily snorted. "Gee, Honour, I dunno -- a rich, attractive, successful VIP stud and his sweet, young, tragically-recently-separated guardsmare..."

As Honour’s jaw started to open, revealing grimacing teeth, Lily continued on.

"...Sweating in the carriage-house all afternoon, her without her armor, him peeling down to his underwear, panting and heaving as they labor together..."

Lifting a hoof to her chin, Lily rolled her eyes. "... What-EVER could they possibly be doing with each other at nighttime?"

She was interrupted by a sudden hoof-poke to her barrel.

"That's not funny, Glamerspear. She's your comrade."

Lily waved a forehoof dismissively. "Ah, come off it, Corporal. I'm only joking because they might be doing what I wish we were both doing. I mean, probably they ain't, but if they are, well, the Royal Engineer's all right, and I can imagine worse colts to have scored her on the rebound -- a lot worse."

Honour snorted dismissively. "They're not even the same species, Glamerspear."

Lily blew a lip bubble right back. "Pfffft, like that matters. Every couple of months 'Canterlot Match' breaks a scandal where some depraved unicorn noblepony turns out to be banging a griffon servant, or maybe a dragon, or even a diamond dog."

Smirking, she continued. "Heck, there's ponies out there who think unicorns 'n' pegasi 'n' earth-ponies shouldn't mix. I bet they'd have something to say to Sparkshower's ancestors, with all the earth-blood she must have in her -- and they'd probably be shocked to see what Ebonshield was up to right now, too."

Honour grumbled. "Well how come you're all for the Royal Engineer, now? You didn't think so much of him when you first met him."

Lily shrugged. "I changed my mind. We've been through a lot together, haven't we? I mean, I still think the no-fur thing is pretty weird -- that thin little patch of hair on his chest doesn't make up for all the bare skin -- but, y'know, when you've seen what that body can do, it ain't so unattractive." Chuckling, she shrugged again. "And I guess I've kinda got a thing for colts who know how to take command of a situation, y'know? Like he did at Newstirrup, or just today with Hoofstrong. That's probably why I like licking officer-colt salt the best, heeheehee."

Honour snorted and shook her head, joining in Lily’s chuckle with one of her own. "Sweet Celestia of Equestria, Glamerspear, hahaha..."

The two of them, half-drunk and clam-jammed both, giggled like school-fillies as the hallway door swung open and in walked Sparkshower.

Instantly, Lily burst out, barely managing to get the words out in-between laughs. "Ha-ha! Sparks! Where the buck have you been! The corporal and I have been worried sick!"

Corporal Bound, teary-eyed and still chuckling, joined in admonishing her. "Specialist! You'd better have a bucking good explanation for being late!"

Wide-eyed like she'd just been caught violating curfew by her own mother, their pegasus comrade barely managed to push the door closed before freezing in place. "I... uh..."

Honour doubled over laughing in her chair, slumping her head onto the table and pounding it with a hoof. "Oh, buck me, Glamerspear, you were right."

Lily extended a comforting foreleg over her corporal's shoulder. "Now, now, I'm sure there's a perfectly reasonable explanation for this..."

Barely managing to stop herself from cracking up, Lily tried to put on a stern expression for Sparkshower. "... Isn't there, Specialist? Explain yourself to Corporal Bound this instant!"

"Uhm... Well, you see the thing is, Corporal..."

Honour wearily lifted her head from the table, and they both stared as the pegasus stammers out an answer.

"...When we put down our tools for dinner at around seven, the Royal Engineer asked if he could offer me a meal and some advice in his chambers, and I said 'yes,' and we got to talking about relationships -- he told me all about his engagement and his break-up back in his world..."

The laughter stopped, and Lily and Honour found themselves staring in disbelief.

"... And he said a few things about that, and I asked him some questions, and then he asked if it would be alright if he asked a few questions about Huckleberry 'n' me, and I said 'yes' again, so we kept talking about relationships and life and stuff..."

Lily sat, transfixed in place, waiting with her foreleg over her corporal for the other horseshoe to drop.

Sparkshower sheepishly shrugged and shook her head. "...And I guess we sorta lost track of time, is all. Sorry for keeping you up, Corporal, but Anonymous told me that you and Lily both had dates tonight so we shouldn't worry about disturbing you."

It was a strange mixture of relief and disappointment that Lily was feeling. "Sparks, are you telling us he took you back to his chambers, and you two talked for three hours straight?"

The pegasus nodded her head. "Yes."

Beneath Lily’s foreleg, she felt the corporal breathe a heavy sigh of relief. "Phew. And he didn't try to make a move on you at all?"

The recently heartbroken pegasus glumly rubbed one forehoof against the other foreleg and looked down at the ground. "No, I'm afraid he didn't..."

Lily felt Honour sigh again, and heard her whisper. "Thank Celestia..."

Then, all of a sudden, Honour jolted her head up, flinging Lily’s foreleg away as she cried out. "Wait, what do you mean, you're afraid he didn't?!"

‘Buck!’

Lily clenched her teeth and raised her forehooves defensively. "Honour! He's right below us, for buck's sake!" And the floor was thin enough that her manaburn-induced shouting match with Sparkshower last week managed to go through loud and clear, according to Ebonshield.

Suddenly looking terrified, the corporal apologized. "Sorry..."

Then she turned to Sparkshower, teeth clenched. "Specialist, what do you mean you're afraid he didn't try to make a move on you?"

Licking her lips, the pegasus awkwardly wrapped her wings around her barrel. "I... kinda... stuck my tuft out at him."

Lily blinked and tilted her head in disbelief. "You kinda stuck your tuft out at him?"

Artemis stepped forward, refolding her wings and performing the act in question.

"Okay, so I did stick my tuft out at him, after dinner..."

Lily heard Honour's jaw hit the table, and Lily felt hers about to slam into place right beside it as well.

‘Holy Celestia, she's got a lot going on out front.’

The mare was completely stacked; she could hide a whole other pony in there. Did she keep all that fluff hidden under her armor the other ninety-nine percent of the time?

The pegasus lightly stamped a hind hoof down behind her and sat. "But he didn't pay any attention to it at all! The whole time I had my tussock on display, his eyes stayed right up here!" She pointed both forehooves at her own baby-blue orbs, and she almost seemed angry doing it.

But that anger quickly shifted to anguish, and those same forehooves moved to cup her muzzle. “How am I going to find somepony if I can't even get another colt to look down at my tuft even for a moment!? My life is ruined!! Oh, Huckleberry..."

Sparkshower was about to burst into tears, so, ignoring her own advice about volume, Lily cried out before the showers could start. "Sparks! The Royal Engineer isn't a bucking colt!"

She lowered her forehooves and stared at Lily for a moment. "Anonymous is a mare?!?"

‘Buck!’

Corporal Bound clonked her head repeatedly into the table, grumbling beside Glamerspear. "Sweet Celestia, Sparkshower..."

Ignoring the exhausted earth pony, Lily thrust her forehooves down on the table and barked down at the idiot pegasus.

"Bucking NO, Sparks! He's a male, yes, but he's not a colt, you understand?"

Glancing around in confusion, she screwed her face up. "He's a gelding?!"

‘Forehoof, meet brow.’

Lily took a deep breath, but before she could lay things out, Corporal Bound recovered from her stupor. "Sparkshower, what Glamerspear is trying to say is that the Royal Engineer is an alien male -- not a pony male. His species could have completely different standards of beauty, and he may not have paid any attention to your tuft simply because females of his species don't have tufts to look at. A stuck-out tuft maybe doesn't mean anything at all to him, no matter how impressive it would normally be in Equestria. How many other colts have you shown your bush to?"

Sparkshower shrugged. "Just him, I guess."

Honour waved a hoof dismissively. "Then, for buck's sake, don't go drawing conclusions yet. You've got a wonderful tuft, okay? You show it to an actual pony colt and they'll look, believe me. Tell her, Glamerspear."

As Honour elbowed the unicorn, Lily tilted her head sideways and chortled. "You've got a bangin' tuft, filly. You could give griffons a run for their feathers with that thing; I wouldn't mind borrowing some of it myself from time to time."

That brightened the young pegasus up again. "Really? Oh, good." With an excited sigh, she refolded her wings. "Is it okay if I take a shower now? I'm still kinda sweaty from working in the carriage-house with the Royal Engineer."

The earth pony corporal nodded, and Sparkshower headed for the washroom door. Once it shut, the two of them breathed a deep sigh.

Lily looked over at Honour. She was starting to understand her NCO’s general attitude towards her underlings.

"I'm not that bad, am I, Corporal?"

Honour looked at her with tired eyes. "You can be, Lily; you can be."

She started to laugh, and the specialist laughed along with her.

Corporal Bound shook her head. "...I have to herd two horseshoes and a batpony, along with an alien VIP, and I told Alexander that I wanted to see this assignment through to the end... I must be crazy."

Now it was Lily’s turn to shake back, bringing up a forehoof in mock salute. "Buck you, Corporal."

Honour got to her hind hooves and gave Lily the same mock salute. "Buck you, Specialist. And good bucking night. I'm going to go try to sleep off all this friggin' nonsense."

Chapter 101

Purity Ebonshield

Sergeant Purity Ebonshield was enjoying the show.

"GET SOME! GET SOME! GET SOME!!"

Shouting at the top of her lungs while the carriage self-propelled of the Engineer Royal cruised around the racetrack of the Princess of the Sun, the Specialist Glamerspear conjured practice-spear after practice-spear and propelled them with force up towards the pegasus Specialist Sparkshower.

FWWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOSSSSSHHHHRRRRRRRCCCHHH

However, that same pegasus, propelled by the power fantastic of her magic lance, roared across the sky far too quickly for any of those spears to connect.

"... BUCK!"

Clearly, the missing was not pleasurable to the unicorn.

From Ebonshield’s vantage point in the grandstands, she could see everything that happened on the field below. And on today, the wind had chosen not to blow strongly, so, with her ears swivelled forwards, there was much she could hear, as well. The carriage rounded the corner and arrived once again on the final straight channel of grass and mud. At the controls sat the Corporal Bound, and beside her, the Engineer Royal.

The bronze armored human lifted up his hand. "Okay, that's enough of that. Corporal, bring us up at the start line. We're done."

With the order to halt, Glamerspear protested immediately. "But sir!"

The Corporal Bound pressed a pedal with her hind hoof, and the carriage lurched to a stop not far from where Ebonshield was seated. She got to her hooves and headed down to greet the rest of her quaternion and her VIP.

Sliding down the side of the vehicle, Anonymous lifted up his helmet, resting the armor piece on his brow. "Specialist Glamerspear, Sparkshower's new toy is very impressive, but I'm trying to show off the self-propelled carriage, not your ability to target a briefly-supersonic pegasus."

The unicorn removed her helmet as well, levitating the item just above her as she grumbled. "Aw, mare... Sparks is never gonna let me hear the end of this."

The Corporal Bound sat in the driving-seat, her hind hoof on the pedal for stopping, and spoke down to her junior soldier while leaning on a lever. "Don't exaggerate, Glamerspear. You know Sparkshower's not the kind to boast."

The unicorn grumbled again. "Yeah, okay... But I won't be able to live it down, either. A decorated anti-air unicorn getting dodged out by a pegasus riding a fancy rod now, and almost losing to Kilfeather two weeks ago. It isn't right."

Honour smiled. "Guess you'll just have to up your game, then."

Stopping, the unicorn threw her forehooves up. "With what?! I can't chuck spears that fast! And she maneuvered well enough to avoid my attempt to box her in with shots, too."

The Engineer Royal, who until now was bent over the underside controls around his wondrous 'engine of steam,’ stood up and nodded to Honour. "Okay, Corporal, it's shut down."

Then he turned to face up at the sky, waving both of his arms back and forth at the Specialist Sparkshower. "SPARKSHOWER, COME DOWN, WE'RE ALL DONE!"

‘By the Mother, what a tremendous voice!’

The batpony’s ears instinctively flattened against her head, as did also the ears of the Corporal Bound and the Specialist Glamerspear. Up in the sky, Ebonshield saw the Specialist Sparkshower in her bronze armor descending towards the earth.

‘Loud, but certainly effective.’

Lowering his arms, the Engineer Royal turned to face Ebonshield as she arrived at the carriage. "Sergeant Ebonshield, I hope you enjoyed the performance just now."

Coming to a stop, she bowed with respect. "Yes, Great Lord. Your vehicle is most impressive."

He nodded. "You were paying attention the whole time, I hope?"

Rising from her first bow, she repeated the movement once again. "Sí, of course, Great Lord. And also the previous time, when we were interrupted by the Lieutenant Violetta."

"Good. Because I think I've got a favor to ask of you..."

‘Oh?’

"... But let's wait for everybody to get settled first."

‘Ah.’

"Certainly, Great Lord."

The Corporal Bound dismounted the carriage with a short leap, while the Specialist Glamerspear conjured for herself a small staircase to descend. There was a fluttering of feathered wings, and then a clattering of metal as the Specialist Sparkshower arrived as well, clutching her magical weapon in the collapsed form.

"Wooo! I told you that you wouldn't be able to hit the wielder of the 'Bradamante Lance,’ Lily!"

The unicorn frowned and bit her lip as the pegasus carried on, smiling and happy but also out of breath. "I've got to look Bradamante Growler up in the archives later! With this lance, she must have been BUCKING INVINCIBLE!"

The Corporal Bound cleared her throat. "Ahem. At ease, Sparkshower."

And the pegasus suddenly remembered that she was a soldier in the presence of a Great Lord, whom she was sworn to serve. Instantly, she snapped to attention and raised up the visor of her helmet. "OH! Sorry, sir!"

Anonymous merely chuckled. "It's all right. I suppose I'd be pretty enthusiastic, too, if I could rocket around like that."

The batpony heard Glamerspear grumble once more, but the Great Lord merely wiped his hands and regarded the four of them, sitting in a half-circle before him.

"Let's have a quick debriefing first. How do we feel about everything so far? Corporal? How do you like the new pedals?"

The earth pony nodded her head. "Much easier to use than the valves, sir."

The Engineer Royal tilted his head. "Do you feel comfortable in the driver's seat? Ready to give a performance for Her Majesty and the General Staff?"

Ebonshield could see Honour swallow with nervousness.

"Around this track, and on a calm, dry day like today -- yes, sir, I'm ready."

‘She is too humble!’

‘And perhaps also too fearful.’

She had seen the corporal drive with skill, and heard of how she navigated the roads busy and full yesterday as well.

Anonymous nodded. "Good. How about you, Specialist Glamerspear? Disregarding the part where Sparkshower opened up the taps on her little rocket-ship, I mean -- that was just for fun; we won't be including it in the real demonstration."

With yet another small grumble, the unicorn also nodded. "I'm ready, sir. I was hitting her most of the time before she went to warp speed, ya know."

The human pointed a black-bronze-armored finger at Glamerspear. "How do you feel about your seat? Do you feel you can focus on your gunnery without worrying too much about the motion of the carriage? Ideally, I'd want to get you strapped into some kind of a swivel chair, but I'm not sure how easy that will be to do."

The unicorn looked around, her head swaying slightly. "I think a swivel chair would help, sir, but I managed. To be honest, after going around Her Majesty's Royal Eastern Cottage racetrack's three left turns umpteen-hundred times each, it feels like the whole world is still trying to turn right."

Anonymous nodded. "Understood; I'm feeling a little dizzy myself, and I wasn't looking up at the sky the whole time as you were. The real demonstration won't be nearly so long."

Extending a hand towards the final member of the performance troupe, he continued. "And you, Specialist Sparkshower? You're holding up well under Glamerspear's barrage?"

The armored pegasus nodded with enthusiasm. "Oh, yes, I'm doing just fine, sir! The practice rounds don't hurt at all!"

Ebonshield saw the Specialist Glamerspear scrunch her snout up a little more, as if this were an insult against the abilities of which she was so proud.

"Okay, good. So now here's where things get complicated."

Their VIP had the full attention of his quaternion.

"When we next practice this, and when we perform it live for an audience, I can't sit in the commander's chair, directing things."

He lifted up a finger. "The whole point of this demonstration is to get the audience excited about the power of industry -- to get them excited about steam power, and steel, and electricity, and all the things I wrote about in my book. And although I personally think it's a good show on its own, it needs a narrator and a 'Master of Ceremonies' to pump up the audience and make it clear why they should be interested in it."

That same finger turned to point at his chest. "And that MC has to be me. Which means somepony else has to be in command of making sure everything goes well -- inside the vehicle, and out."

The Corporal Bound raised a forehoof in salute. "Sir, I'm more than--"

Instantly, Anonymous waved her off. "No, Corporal. I know it's a track with only three turns, but believe me when I say that from the experience of my world, it's a terrible idea to multitask driving with anything else, even on a simple route like this and for a relatively simple job."

He gestured at the carriage behind him. "The worst thing that could happen is that you crash the carriage. It doesn't matter if Glamerspear actually hits Sparkshower, or if Sparkshower flies in an unrealistically simple pattern. Their interaction isn't the point of the show, though it certainly helps and should impress soldiers like Major General Hoofstrong. Tell me -- how many ponies would you need to pull a carriage like this, with Specialist Glamerspear sitting on top of it, around for an hour or two on a battlefield?"

The brown earth pony furrowed her brow and thought for a moment, then answered. "Four at the very least. Maybe even six, since they'd get tired otherwise. Plus you'd still need somepony to command them."

Anonymous nodded. "And they'd also have to be well-trained to trot all in unison in order to make the turns that this carriage can make, wouldn't they?"

Honour nodded, so he continued. "That's the point of the demonstration. Yes, it takes time to build a machine like this, but once it's built -- suddenly you need six less ponies, because you have a machine that doesn't get tired and doesn't need as much physical coordination."

Smiling, he gestured with enthusiasm. "Six less ponies who can be doing something else more useful -- like piloting more of these vehicles, armed with crossbows or unicorns of their own. Automation is a force multiplier, whether it's on a battlefield or on a farm or in a factory. That's what I need to drive home during the demonstration."

Calming himself, he extended his hands towards the two Specialists. "And even though your aerobatics, Specialist Sparkshower, and your gunnery, Specialist Glamerspear, are really only the sideshow, they're still an impressive piece of the whole demonstration, so they need to be coordinated for maximum effect."

Then Ebonshield’s VIP pointed at her. "That's why Sergeant Ebonshield will have to take my place on the carriage as commander."

Instantly, three voices burst out in unison.

"She will?"
"She will?"
"She will?"

Four sets of eyes looked at the batpony, so she bowed graciously. "If the Great Lord wishes it, it shall be done." When she raised her head again, Ebonshield saw expressions ranging from confidence, to surprise, to confusion, to concern.

The wise earth pony with the concerned, brown eyes was the one to speak first. "Sir, with respect to Sergeant Ebonshield, you're the only one who understands what you've built here. Ordering around Sparkshower and Glamerspear, I can understand, but if anything goes wrong with the controls or the machine itself--"

Anonymous interrupted her. "If anything goes wrong, you stop the vehicle, that's all. A halt is better than a disaster. You know where the brakes and the main power valve are, Corporal. Keep your hooves on the tiller and ask Ebonshield to shut off the power if the pedals don't respond; we'll show her how at the next practice session. She's in charge of coordinating the demonstration, but you're responsible for the carriage itself."

Ebonshield’s VIP faced her. "Sergeant, you've seen what Corporal Bound, and the carriage, and Sparkshower and Glamerspear can do. All you really need to do is to watch for my directions, to act as Glamerspear's spotter and direct her fire, and send signals up to Sparkshower to ensure she flies in the right pattern. Like a conductor of an orchestra -- or an officer in the military."

He lifted his eyebrows. "You said you were the second from the top rank in your school of the 'Shining Stellar Dance.' Surely that means you've been in command of other 'dancers' before, haven't you? You must work together sometimes on larger operations, right?"

The batpony bowed slightly. "We do work in groups on occasion, Great Lord, and I have been in command of such groups."

He returned to face the Corporal Bound. "So, there you go. We'll have a practice or two with her in the command chair before the big show. Any other concerns?"

The Specialist Glamerspear scoffed. "Yeah, I've got one. I mean, I know we've already trotted all around Canterlot, and all the way to Newcastle, with the Sergeant in tow but, uh..." She laughed awkwardly, looking at Ebonshield. "...Heh, but she's still a batpony, sir. And there's gonna be ponies at your demo who'll still be subject to Don't-Ask-Don't-Tell, won't there? You asked Hoofstrong to invite anypony else she wanted, after all."

At this, the Engineer Royal frowned. "Hmmm. You're right. I hadn't thought of that. Do you think it'll really be a problem? Nobody's seemed particularly shocked to see her so far."

Glamerspear spread her forehooves wide. "That's 'cause we've been to, like, high-end stores and stuff, sir. Even if anypony was shocked, they'd be too polite to say anything. But this'll be different."

Ebonshield extended a conciliatory forehoof. "Fear not, Great Lord. If it is required that I do not appear as one of the Children, then I shall appear otherwise."

Seeing confusion in the face of her master and her comrades, she continued. "To hide plainly in the sight of the enemy is one of the arts of the Shining Stellar Dance. I will costume myself so that your audience shall never know my true nature."

There was a moment’s pause, but eventually the Engineer Royal nodded in agreement. "OK, you'll put on a disguise. It shouldn't be too hard, I suppose -- I won't have you come up and speak to the audience, and you'll mostly be at a distance, so whatever you do won't have to hold up to the closest scrutiny, though some of the guests may bring binoculars or the like. I imagine Lieutenant Violetta can get you a suit of Royal Guard armor; I'll trust you'll take care of the details."

Ebonshield bowed again. "I will not disappoint you, Great Lord."

To her left, the Specialist Glamerspear had raised a forehoof as if in anticipation. Anonymous pointed at her. "Specialist, what now?"

The unicorn lowered her hoof only to point at the carriage. "Just one more question, sir -- what are we calling this thing?"

Everypony turned to look at the vehicle in question, and she continued. "I mean, I know you said we're supposed to be a Self-Propelled Air Defence system, but that doesn't exactly roll off the tongue, if you know what I mean."

As the Engineer Royal turned back to Glamerspear, she shrugged. "Plus, I mean, it just looks like an ordinary dog-cart carriage right now. Can't we, like, paint it or put some shiny armor on it or something? Chances are, you're gonna be addressing a crowd of nobleponies with memories of the grandest event in all Equestria still fresh in their minds."

This was true that the appearance and name of a thing could have a great impact. The Rocks knew this all too well; even the Stars used intimidating names and bold dress when appropriate. What was a Star's black cloak but a tool to cow their enemies?

The Engineer Royal puffed out his cheeks. "Well... I did think about slapping some armor on it, but I think it'd have to be just a few planks of wood; I don't trust this suspension to handle anything too heavy. I guess we could paint those up in some kind of military colors. As for a name, I don't know. 'SPAD' is the type of vehicle it is, but in my world, particular models of vehicles -- military or civilian -- were named for all sorts of things: people, places, mythological figures..."

He put one hand up to his chin. "...I suppose in its current state it's really a sort of war-chariot -- with Corporal Bound as the driver, you as the archer, and myself as the shield-bearer and commander. Did Equestria ever use war-chariots? Maybe there's a famous one with some name we could borrow."

Nopony had any answer, and neither did Ebonshield. The Children, who fly, and fight only rarely on the surface itself, had certainly never used such things.

The Specialist Glamerspear shrugged. "If we did, ages ago, they'd probably be depicted in the Champions' Hall -- along with that linen armour Gunther Bronzehorn gave you for underwear but claimed ancient Equestrians used all the time in battle."

Sparkshower shook her head also. "The only chariot I can think of is the one Epona Iomaghaoth pulls, and I don't know if it's supposed to have a name."

This person was not familiar to the batpony.

Anonymous spoke up. "Epona Iomaghaoth? Who's that?"

The pegasus expressed surprise. "Oh? You never learned about -- Oh, of course. Sorry, sir..."

She laughed awkwardly. "...You fit in so well that it's easy to forget that you're not from around here."

With a gentle smile, she continued. "Epona Iomaghaoth is the First Pegasus, in the legends of the pegasi. It's said that she pulls a great chariot tethered to the sky, and in so doing creates the winds and the weather. Pegasi across the world serve in her image by moving individual clouds around as well."

The Engineer Royal nodded appreciatively. "Interesting. Maybe we can reference it somehow? Care to tell the tale?"

Sparkshower took a deep breath. "I can tell it, sure. The legend goes that the Mother of Creation, Llamrei, had already made the world and the heavens and all of the creatures in it, and finally needed to manage the sky, whose thousand cords were lashed to a single great, blue chariot."

The pegasus extended one wing to the right. "First, Llamrei harnessed a dragon to the Azure Chariot, believing that strength was what mattered to pull such a heavy load, but the dragon was lazy and irritable, so half the time, when it rested, the world was scorched from lack of rain, and the other half, when it was angry, the world was flooded and wracked by terrifying hurricanes, with scarcely any middle ground."

Closing that wing, she extends her left wing. "Thinking that it was a mistake to choose such a great beast, Llamrei instead harnessed a gust of breezies. They pulled the chariot slowly, but steadily, and were able to bring some rain as needed, but they didn't have enough power for real speed and real wind, so the trees complained that their leaves stayed on in the autumn, while the plants complained that their seeds would never be sown."

She closed both wings. "Llamrei then harnessed a hive of flash bees, but magic of their stingers caused thunder and lightning to follow behind them, and the creatures of the world complained to Llamrei that they were always afraid of being struck."

She shrugged. "Llamrei hitched up a roc next, mighty and steady, but since they can fly almost endlessly without becoming tired, the bees complained that on account of the constant winds they could never land on flowers, while spiders complained that they could never rest in their webs."

With a frustrated look on her face, she cleared her throat. "...There's... a lot of other races Llamrei tried, too. I don't remember all of them. Whoever's telling the story usually comes up with flying creature after flying creature and a reason why they weren't quite right. Anyways, what happens in the end is that after trying it with every other winged creature in the world, Llamrei finally decides that a new species must be made in order to pull the chariot of the sky -- one that will bring the rain and the wind and even the thunder, but in just the right amount."

Turning her chin up proudly, Sparkshower finished her tale. "And so, Llamrei created Epona, the first pegasus, and when Epona pulled the chariot across the sky for an entire day, and then an entire month, and then an entire season, and then an entire year -- without any of the other creatures complaining that the weather was completely unsuitable, Llamrei dubbed her 'Epona an Iomaghaoth,' Epona the Whirlwind. With that final creature tending to the sky, the world was complete, and at last Llamrei could rest."

This was a curious thing, to think that the Equestrian ponies have only legends of their beginnings, while the origin of the Children could not be more clear. Though this was also true that, technically, the Equestrians of a thousand years ago were also the ancestors of the Children of the Stars. In a sense, this legend of the pegasi was also Ebonshield’s history as well.

Before the batpony could reflect further, the Engineer Royal clapped his hands. "How about 'Whirlwind'? As a name for the vehicle." He looked into the faces of each of his four guards -- Ebonshield included -- and saw no objections.

The Specialist Glamerspear nodded. "I like it, sir. Gives the impression of blowing things right out of the sky."

Sparkshower nodded also. "Yes, that's true! And I'm sure any pegasi present will get the connection immediately. Especially if we decorate it with Epona's triskelion -- it's three pegasus wings, in a circle."

Glamerspear looked around the group. "Anypony good at painting? Or know somepony good at it?"

There were only shrugs and shaking heads all around.

Ebonshield spoke up. "I have no skill with the brush..." Then she nodded sideways, remembering last night's activities. "...Although, I have been considering engaging the services of the Rocks for some painting of my own. There are several gifted artists in the Rookery. Perhaps we could investigate this further tonight, before or after the sparring?"

The Engineer Royal nodded. "Sure. I'll measure out the boards we'll use to make an 'armored box' around the upper carriage so we have an idea of how big the canvas will be."

Clapping his hands together, he smiled. "Whirlwind! All right, now I'm really excited for tonight. Let's put the carriage back in the garage, have lunch, and then get some rest before heading to the Rookery."

Everypony nodded in agreement, and while Anonymous busied himself re-lighting the engine, they all mounted the vehicle in their own ways. Moments later, the machine 'pffsht-pffsht-pffsht'ed to life, and their VIP climbed up as well, then turned in his seat to look back at Ebonshield.

"By the way, Sergeant, if you don't mind me asking -- what were you going to have painted yourself?"

She smiled awkwardly, a little embarrassed. "Oh, it is nothing, Great Lord. Some small figurines used in a game that I am playing with my paramour. It is called 'Hyperspace Hyperwars,' and they represent warriors."

There was a groan from the Specialist Glamerspear beside her, but Anonymous did not seem to notice. "Ah, I see. Hmm, painted figurines of soldiers? We had games like that on my world... Wouldn't mind seeing that game, when we have a little more time."

A second groan, more pained this time, was emitted from the unicorn.

This was ignored also.

"I am sure that my Gilberto would be more than pleased to present to the Engineer Royal the details of the game. I could not yet claim myself sufficiently experienced to introduce such play to somepony else."

Anonymous nodded. "Sometime later, sure. Let's start with the real combat first."

Turning back to the Corporal Bound, he pointed the way ahead. "Okay, Corporal, take us back to the garage."

The earth pony seized the tiller and placed her hind hooves on the pedals. "Yes, sir."

‘Ah!’

‘How interesting the coming days will be.’

Ebonshield must find a painter, teach her VIP the art of combat, learn to command his 'Whirlwind'... And to steal for herself an item particular not from the unwatched pantry of the Palace of Canterlot, but instead from the well-guarded armory of the Children of the Stars. After all, her VIP deserved only the best from her, and she must not disappoint him.

When she performed for the audience of Her Majesty the Princess of the Sun herself, with the aid of that item particular, perhaps even She would be deceived, and see sitting in the 'Whirlwind' only three of Her Little Ponies!

Suggested reading: Flakpanzer IV 'Wirbelwind'

Chapter 102

Honour Bound

‘This certainly is different.’

The first time Corporal Honour Bound went down to the Rookery, it almost felt like she was sneaking around. Aside from being accosted by a few guards in the cave full of stalagmites and stalactites, almost everypony had been asleep. The second time had felt quiet as well, arriving early in the evening with the Royal Engineer in his dress suit while most of the batponies were just barely waking up. His conversation with the Rookery's metalworkers had gone on for so long that the streets were quiet again by the time they’d left, as well.

But now, having passed the Royal Undermountain Constabulary's orchard gatepost at almost the stroke of midnight, it was like walking into a completely different world. And Honour understood perfectly why Sergeant Ebonshield had arranged for that first visit completely outside the normal waking hours of the batponies, and the second one skirting the edge.

There were, quite simply, batponies everywhere.

In the 'Cave of Pillars,' that strange hall full of what Honour’s VIP had said were natural hexagonal rock formations, there was a small lineup of the leather-winged creatures gathering water from the underground river, all flapping about and chattering to each other amiably. Of course, that chattering ceased the second that Ebonshield had put her hooves down on the small iron bridge leading into the Rookery, and the fluttering ponies dropped like stones to the ground to bow at her passing. The sergeant, for her part, had walked past them as if they simply didn't exist, and so had the rest of the group.

The way Ebonshield had explained it before was that class differences among the 'Children of the Stars' were extremely sharp, and all must bow in respect to a member of a higher 'phase.' Which had included all of them on that first visit, when the Reverend Mother Superior arrived to interrupt the training to welcome Anonymous, and to sternly admonish the sergeant herself. Of course, it only came out later that those words might not have just been between a member of a higher 'phase' and a lower one, but also between a disapproving mother and her disobedient daughter.

That was a pretty hefty omission on the part of the corporal’s batpony sergeant.

As was the fact that she was no ordinary soldier! The black-cloaked, forty-three-year-old batpony presently leading them towards the main 'marketplace' section of the Rookery was, in fact, the number-two ranked batpony assassin.

‘How many other secrets is she hiding?’

‘And how many other secrets is the Rookery hiding, as well?’

Honour looked behind her at Glamerspear, who had been apprehensive about once again meeting the batpony sorcerer, Ignacio Blazon. The existence of nocturnal bat-winged ponies was something of an open secret among the guards in Canterlot Palace, with the infamous Don't-Ask-Don't-Tell rule only leading to an abundance of rumors and speculation. But most of those same rumors -- besides idiotic 'shoe ideas about blood-sucking supernatural creatures -- speculated that the batponies were little more than just pegasi of the night. The idea that any of them had any kind of actual sorcerous powers was a real shock, and of Honour’s group, nopony had been more shocked to find out than the chief rumor-monger herself, Specialist Glamerspear.

It was almost worrying the way she’d said she couldn't understand how he accomplished summoning those shadowy sand enemies for Ebonshield to fight.

Worrying, too, was how Glamerspear mentioned that even the healing spell Ignacio used on the injured sergeant was impressive in its own right. Ebonshield claimed that the batpony mages were outclassed by unicorns, and in fact knew that they were outclassed, but Honour still had to wonder -- if the 'Children of the Stars' had not just martial power but magical backup as well, how had they failed to take the Watchtower? Was it simply a stubborn defense which went on so long that when Nightmare Moon was herself defeated, the attacking batponies simply gave up? Since Sergeant Ebonshield knew about the Watchtower being under the command of Major General Hoofstrong during that Nightmare Night, maybe it's something the corporal could ask her about later. For now, the Rookery's marketplace had her full attention.

In contrast to the shuttered windows, folded-down awnings, and near-empty streets of before, tonight there was a vibrant, colourful, noisy scene before them. Hundreds of batponies in civilian dress walked or flew around the great domed cavern, stopping at stalls that displayed all manner of wares. From one simple wooden shack up ahead labelled 'Herrero,’ Honour heard the working of a bellows and the banging of hammers on metal. Passing by, she glanced through the window, and saw rows of shining metal items on angled display tables -- horseshoes on pegs, nails in boxes, hinges piled up, and all manner of tools, from axes and picks to knives and spears.

‘Ah, so it's a blacksmith's shop.’

The smell of smoke and flame wafted out as well.

Wait -- if there was a smelter and a forge down here, not to mention fires for cooking or other uses, how did they avoid the cavern filling with smoke? Honour glanced up, but even with the reasonable amount of lighting illuminating the marketplace, she couldn’t make out any details in the cavern ceiling. Except maybe the ventilation wasn’t in the ceiling at all; as she passed by the shop and entered an open square, she felt a steady, soft breeze coming from her left. Some kind of forced ventilation, maybe like the gadget powering the pools and hot tubs in the Spa Dalecarlia? She supposed it doesn't really matter -- the batponies had been living under here for almost two years; If they were going to choke on their own smoke, they'd have done so already.

Glancing around, Honour saw that the bowing had hardly let up. Everypony in a fifty-hoof radius who caught even a glimpse of the sergeant stopped whatever they were doing and bowed their head, though they kept their eyes on her. And then on the rest of them as well, staying bowed as Honour walked along behind her.

‘Hmmm…’

To the corporal’s right, she heard Anonymous clear his throat. "Sergeant, I get the sense that tonight these people seem to be bowing not just to you, but to me as well, or to our whole group."

The batpony assassin turned her hooded head sideways, allowing Honour to see her mouth and only a sliver of her eye. "The Great Lord is most perceptive. Yes, they bow to all of us now. By the proclamation of the Reverend Mother Superior, all of your quaternion are to be treated as full members of the Star Phase, and you yourself a member of the Lunar Phase."

Facing forward again, her hood bobbed too and fro as she glanced both ways down an intersection, then led them straight through. "Therefore, the Great Lord need no longer bow to anypony here in the Rookery, save the Reverend Mother herself."

‘Huh.’

‘Good to know.’

And that certainly explained the extended bowing -- something Honour herself was wondering about as well. It felt a bit one-sided, though. Even during Day Court, Princess Celestia acknowledged bows from Equestrian citizens with polite nods of her own.

Their VIP seemed to still have questions about the practice, as well. "Am I supposed to do anything in return, Sergeant? Nod or wave?"

At this, Ebonshield brought their small marching column to a halt, and turned fully to face her VIP and Corporal Bound, with Glamerspear and Sparkshower peeking around from the rear.

The Sergeant gave a small bow of her own, acknowledging her VIP's elevated status. "If the Great Lord wishes, he may nod in return. Most of the Children here in the marketplace are of the Rock or Dust phase, and therefore such a reply would be an unusual honor. I suggest that it be reserved for the individuals of distinction, or with whom there is already a relationship particular."

Anonymous gave a brief nod back. "I understand. Let's carry on."

‘So, the batponies aren't really so dissimilar from the ponies of Equestria after all…’

They were just a little stricter about some things than the Equestrians were. Or a lot stricter, in some cases.

The Sergeant led them on, and besides the four of the non-batponies looking around at every sight, listening to every sound, and sniffing at every smell, nothing of particular note occured. If anything, the constant bowing made it impossible to get a sense of the place or to try to pick up on the batpony language -- all activity and conversation ceased when they passed by.

Honour was sure she’d spotted somepony haggling with a merchant in front of a selection of ceramic wares, and she was almost eager to try to pick out the words they used -- there was something about a 'burro,' and she caught 'ka-brone' being said repeatedly, before the buyer and seller stopped what they were doing when they caught a glimpse of Ebonshield's black cloak.

Which brought up another point -- for all the association with the night-time and darkness that the batponies had in Honour’s mind, there was an awful lot of colour down here. Where the Reverend Mother Superior and her entourage were dressed in all white, from their tall pointed hoods to the caparisons that extended down past their hooves, and Sergeant Ebonshield and her star-phase warrior kin seemed to dress exclusively in black, open-faced hooded cloaks, the ordinary batponies around them had no such fashion rules. Instead, matching the brightly-painted stalls and dazzlingly-patterned awnings, the batpony civilians were dressed in all manner of colors, from scarlet-red, to earthy brown, golden-yellow and navy-blue. Even when a pony was wearing something predominantly white or black, it was always accented with another color. Although, perhaps that was as much to avoid confusion as anything else.

And what was also surprising was the amount of clothing they wore, too. The average market square in Fillydelphia saw merchants in colorful hats, maybe, while longshorepones favored heavy coats as protection against the wind and the spray of water, to say nothing of the rain, but for the most part, Equestrians didn't dress up much unless it was a special occasion or they were particularly well-to-do. After all, nopony wanted to sweat doubly from their clothes as from their labors. Meanwhile, here were hundreds of batponies wearing colorful, elaborate costumes that wouldn't look out of place at a smaller village's Maypole festival.

An older mare to Honour’s left gave a broad bow and curtsy in a red dress, and she saw three layers of fancy white ruffles around her legs. Maybe she was somepony big herself -- or married to somepony big, at least. Either way, it put what passed for market-day dress upstairs to shame.

And it emphasizes just how narrow of a view Honour’d had of the batponies on her first visit.

Her second visit, she might've picked up on some more, if she hadn't been quite so bored and exhausted. For an ordinarily quiet colt, the Royal Engineer sure could talk up a storm when he wanted to...

There was still something bugging the corporal, though. As they exited the marketplace and entered the far emptier corridors which she assumed to be the residences of the 'Star Phase' warriors of the batponies -- most of whom would now be on night duty topside -- Honour cleared her throat.

"Sergeant, why didn't you mention the Reverend Mother's proclamation earlier?"

Once again, Ebonshield kept walking as she answered her. "Such an elevation carries only as much weight as the individuals may respect it, Corporal. I wished for the Great Lord and for the rest of you to continue to treat the soldiers down here with great caution. This is true that the Rocks and Dust do bow, of course, but I think that any Stars whom we encounter will not be so accommodating."

"That sounds dangerous."

"Indeed. With this proclamation, visiting the Rookery, while free from petty hassles at the border, is perhaps more dangerous than before."

Anonymous piped up beside Honour. "Are we likely to encounter many Stars at this time of day? Aren't they all on the surface, guarding the Palace?"

"Most of them, yes, Great Lord. But there are still enough Stars in the Rookery to cause trouble if they should so wish. And I doubt that the Grand Hall will be unoccupied completely..." She trailed off as they rounded the final corner.

Ahead of them stretched the final, long corridor with its rows of sleeping cubicles going down its length, and at the end, the batpony emblem -- an upwards-facing crescent moon, just like the one on Princess Luna, with seven small eight-pointed stars beneath, and a single larger star above in the shadow of the surface.

This time, there's no soft drone of snoring coming from the small curtained chambers -- it was eerily quiet. But there was some noise, emanating from the end of the hall...

Behind the corporal, Sparkshower piped up in a whisper. "I hear drums! And something else -- castanets, I think? Somepony's playing music up ahead!"

As Honour got closer to the Grand Hall, she could make it out as well.

Recommended background music: Gregory Alper & Jeehun Hwang - 'Kill or Be Killed / Golden Spade', from 'Mechwarrior 2' [1995]
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PAQxocc8BMc

As she passed to the right of the batpony logo and entered into the Grand Hall proper, an alien scene awaited her. There were dozens of batponies gathered around the inner edge of the gallery, looking down on the sandpit.

And it's what was down there that was truly surprising.

Two batponies, in their black cloaks and leathers, danced in the air some distance away from each other in the circular pit, brandishing steel-tipped long spears that crossed in the center. The rest of the quaternion entered the Grand Hall behind the corporal, and there was a sudden flash of excitement from the sandpit.

"KI-YAAH!"

"RYAAAAH!"

cling-a-cling-a-cling-CLANG!

Faster than Honour’s eye could quite follow, the two batponies screeched and then clashed excitedly with their weapons. But after a moment or two they both retreated back to a guarded stance, each one toying with their weapon and testing it against the other.

SkrrtttCHhh

And they were using real weapons, too, because she could hear the metal blades scrape against each other.

What a strange way to fight, and a dangerous way to train -- if it even was training...

Instead of descending straight into the pit, this time Ebonshield led them around the outer edge, apparently heading to one of the open and unoccupied areas in the raised gallery.

Some things in the room were familiar, at least. Tonino and the other musicians were still dressed in their colorful clothes and seated in what must be their usual spot, next to Ignacio's little pulpit, though they had different instruments out. And the cranky old batpony sorcerer himself was there, too, though he sat in silence, wearing his black, blindfold-mask with its distinctive red fringe. Curiously, he appeared as much as anypony to be intently watching the scene with his blind eyes.

As they approached the edge and Honour got a better look at the fight going on down below, a few of the other spectators turned to notice their arrival. She didn't hear any whispers or murmurs when they turned around again, but from the expressions they shot her, she could tell that her group's arrival had already caused a stir.

Ebonshield came to a halt at the edge, and turned to wave them all forward with one forehoof. There was enough space for them all to spread out -- Sparkshower on the left, then Honour, then Anonymous, followed by Ebonshield, and finally Glamerspear. All of them were seated except for Anonymous, who wasn’t really built to sit on his haunches. Instead, he stood quietly, his 'twenty-blows-mace' head-down on the floor, and his hands resting on top of the handle.

The batpony Sergeant put one hoof up to her muzzle and looked both ways, being sure to make eye contact with everypony. She didn’t need to say anything to make it clear that they were all supposed to keep quiet.

Down in the sandpit, the combat continued.

"RYAAH!"

"KIIIYAAAAAAAH!"

clang-clang-skrrrrtch-clang-THWACK!

It was truly unlike anything Honour had seen in the Royal Guard. Equestrian Royal Guardsponies drilled to fight in teams, or at least in pairs. On the ground, earth ponies would assemble into lines or squares to dominate the battlefield. Up in the air, pegasi would fly in wedge formations before breaking up into furious tail-to-muzzle pursuits. Even all-unicorn platoons used formations to make it clear who was supposed to be casting what.

But this solo one-on-one, floating in the air, testing the enemy, then sudden lunging and striking with blinding speed were totally unlike Royal Guard training. In fact, it resembled, more than anything, a kind of duel.

skrrtch-clink

Again, the two batponies flapped around slowly in circles, testing their spears against each other, occasionally lightly batting their opponent's blade away.

And then, in the blink of an eye, the furious assault began again.

"HYEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEHH!"

"RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHH!"

clink-a-clink-a-clank-a-thock-a-clink-a-shrrkt-a-SKRUTCH!

"HuuurGHHHaaa!"

Their entire section gasped as one black-clad batpony drove their spear home, piercing the other one's shoulder, causing the victim to drop their spear, and spattering the sand with red blood.

On the other side of the gallery, one of the cloaked figures shouted down.

"¡Alto!"

The music stopped, and so did the fight.

To the approving stomp of dozens of audience hooves, the victorious competitor bowed first to the apparent master of ceremonies, then to the musicians, and finally to the rest of the audience.

On the other side of the corporal, Glamerspear piped up. "Those were real weapons? And now what, are they just going to let the loser bleed out on the sand?"

Ebonshield's answer came in a sharp whisper, staying strategically quieter than the applause. "Yes, we often train with real weapons. And no, Ignacio will see to the wounded shortly, once their Master asks it."

The clopping noise died down, to be replaced with murmurs in a language Honour didn't understand.

In his little raised box, Ignacio shifted on his hooves, possibly waiting for a signal, while the losing batpony shivered in agony on the sandpit floor.

"¡Silencio!"

The same cloaked figure on the far side of the gallery put an end to the muttering, and then the colt threw back his hood and pointed an angry old hoof towards Honour’s group.

"... Hhwhat ees de meaning of this intrrusion? Estelar Siete Pureza Ébanoscudo, the Grrrand Hall of Starrrs ees a place suitable only for the Childrren of the League of Stars..."

That same hoof slashed sideways dismissively. "...Not for theese... surrface-born Prisioneros de la Sol."

‘Prisoners... of the sun?’

Honour recalled Sparkshower mentioning something about that being a batpony insult. 'Surface-born' was probably another one. On the moon, batponies must be born exclusively underground.

Ebonshield looked about ready to reply, when another voice called out from one of the closer sections. "Oyé, do not prretend that jou forget already the proclamation, Alfonso."

Alfonso, the Master of the combat that had just come to a brutal end, cried back. "Ay forrget nothing, Ramon. Eet is hwee who habe forrgotten what eet means to be the Childrren of the Grreat League of Starrs!"

Ramon snorted. "¡Oscuridad! Jou cerrtainly habe forrgotten about jour soldier in the sandpit, cabrón. Forr how long will jou harangue us with jour retórica while her insides spill out onto the sand?"

That got chuckles from around the audience, although Ebonshield stayed silent. Alfonso grumbled, but ultimately refrained from replying, and instead turned towards Ignacio in his pulpit, cupping his forehooves together in reverence -- but keeping his head held high.

"Een the name of the Moon, Balladero de Phantasmas, will jou bless the Starrs with jour probidence and restore our fallen Champion, that she may live to fight ourr enemies once more?"

Ignacio nodded his head, and Honour heard his familiar voice echo through the chamber. "¡Sí, and it is past time! Any longer, and it is for the Shadows we should have to send, instead."

There was a look of relief on the face of the injured combatant, though her neck was covered with sweat-foam, and the tip of her opponent's long spear was still stuck deep in her shoulder, the wound weeping blood. Honour heard the scraping of metal on metal as Sparkshower turned her head away, having trouble bearing the gruesome sight.

But then Ignacio picked up his oboe-like instrument and put it to his lips, bringing a strange melody to a room that is utterly silent but for the strained panting of the losing fighter. It was an eerie tune, and it was pointedly not what he sang to heal Ebonshield. Though in that case, he also had descended into the pit to see to her personally.

After playing for a few moments, he pointed down into the sand-pit. "...Remove the weapon."

The victor flapped slowly up, wrapping their forehooves on the spear, and then gave a sharp tug to pull it out. To her credit, the loser took the ordeal with little more than a muffled grunt.

"Oh, merciful skies..."

Sparkshower was clearly still watching -- and was shocked by what she saw.

Ignacio began to play again, still unaccompanied. Honour squinted, but she couldn’t make out any visible sign of magic on the loser's shoulder. There was no glow, no aura, no noise, nothing.

‘Is he even doing anything at all?’

With the spear removed, the wound must have been bleeding faster than ever. The music stopped, and Honour watched Ignacio lower his instrument.

"Apply the sand."

‘Sand in a wound?’

‘That's no way to treat an injury.’

If anything, the sand would just have to be cleaned out later before the injury would heal properly. Nonetheless, the victorious soldier approached their victim and brushed some sand onto the wound with a hoof. Then, Ignacio began to intone a low, guttural moan -- and this time, Honour did see some signs of magic. The light in the Grand Hall, reasonably bright to begin with for an underground cave, dimmed noticeably, and the poor injured batpony on the sandpit seemed to be swallowed up by the new shadows. As the Balladeer of Ghosts continued his solo note, the darkness passed, and when he warbled the tone with an outstretched hoof, the illumination returned to normal.

And so, too, was the injured batpony, who got to her hooves almost as if nothing had happened. Stepping over to her weapon, she floated into the air and picked it up with her hooves, then turned to face the magician who healed her.

Now silent, Ignacio blindly received her forehooves clasped in thanks. "Thank-you, O Balladeer of Ghosts."

He nodded her towards her master, Alfonso. "Go now, and rrrejoin jour Stars."

Thus dismissed, the two combatants -- winner and loser -- took flight and swooped out of the sand pit into the trench surrounding it, before darting up the closest staircase to head back to their Master.

It seemed strange that they didn't simply fly straight up. Maybe there was an unseen barrier between the gallery and the combat floor.

With the blindfold still covering his useless eyes, Ignacio turned his head to and fro as if surveying the gallery. "...The pit is empty. Eighth of the Ashen Eagles, from among jour group, are there more who shall trrain today?"

Honour heard an angry whinny from Alfonso, the elder batpony. "My Eagles do not trrain een the prresence of unworrthy outsiders."

The students surrounding him emitted murmurs of approval as their Master gathered them to leave, but Ignacio only grumbled. "Well, then, if the Eagles will not fly, perhaps the Vipers shall slither? Eh, Ramon?"

She saw the one who dared challenge Alfonso's outburst turn and confer with his own students.

Ebonshield leaned over and whispered to their group. "That is Master Ramon, Eighth Rank of the Iron Vipers. They fight with blades attached to the hooves, similar in some ways to the style of the Stellar Dance."

Anonymous muttered back. "This 'Ramon' seems to be on our side, as well."

The sergeant shook her head. "No. He is unopposed, at best. But the Iron Vipers and the Ashen Eagles have a famous and long-flying feud. It is a matter of dogma -- whether it is better to fight up close, like a viper, or to soar slowly only to swoop in for the kill, like an eagle."

She nodded towards the group of Vipers. "Watch. He will not do us the honour of bearing witness to our training. He will find some excuse to leave as well."

Anonymous shuffled his feet and bent over slightly. "Do your Stellar Dancers have no friends here in the Rookery?"

Ebonshield sighed. "It is a situation most complicated. As we are not soldiers ordinary, we are not well-liked by the other Stars."

She looked up at their VIP. "Until recently, however, we enjoyed the protection absolute of the Lunars. That protection is now less certain."

Honour felt a lump in her throat. For all the similarities, it really was different down here.

And in a dangerous way, too.

Never mind all of her foalish hangups about moving to Filly' with Castlerook -- down here, there were blood oaths, and duels to the death, and training with lethal weapons, and all sorts of factional politics. The Generals and Admirals upstairs competing for a few extra bits here or there for their pet project, or vying for the MXP Games trophy, were laughably low-stakes by comparison. Only Anonymous' grand project to forever change life in Equestria seemed to be as great in her mind, though it lacked the severe brutality of the life led by Ebonshield and her kin.

Ramon and the rest of the Iron Vipers turned back to face the sand pit, and the Balladeer of Ghosts. "We habe finished our trraining forr today, and shall rretire."

With that, the only other remaining group of batpony soldiers turned and headed for the exit. Leaving her, in short order, all alone with her quaternion, her VIP, the musicians, and the Balladeer of Ghosts in the Grand Hall of Stars.

From his pulpit, Ignacio whinnied. "¡Caramba! What a pack of spineless Shadow-spawned maggots. How happy it makes me to hear the beating of their wings and the clopping of their hooves receding in the distance, like the dissipation of a foul odor."

Ebonshield cleared her throat. "It is good to see you as well, O Balladeer of Ghosts."

Ignacio licked his lips and turned in her direction. "Ahh... And jou are back once again, mi murciélagita? Shall we put on another show for jour Equestrians, hmm?"

She shook her head. "We are here only to spar in the pit -- we should have no need for your music tonight."

The Balladeer grunted dismissively. "¡Hunh! Then I shall rest my voice, for now." Turning, he disappeared behind the curtains that enclosed his pulpit.

Sergeant Ebonshield turned to Honour Bound. "Corporal, I wish for you to take the lead in sparring with the Engineer Royal tonight."

‘What?’

‘She's’ the bucking second-rank assassin, not me!’

‘What am I going to teach him? How to lamely chuck a spear or to weakly buck a target with his hind legs?’

"Me? Sergeant, I don't understand."

From underneath her cloak, the batpony pointed a wing-tip at her. "The Great Lord last time expressed a desire to grapple, and this was with such a maneuver that he eventually won against me."

Anonymous chuckled. "Heh. I still can't believe that worked."

Turning to him, the Sergeant smiled. "I admit that this was to me a move quite original and unexpected."

Then she looked back over at Honour. "...Which is why I wish to study your repertoire of such attacks against the Corporal Bound, that I may devise for you a plan to use them more capably. And as she is a member of the Royal Guard, she will have been well-trained in the art of escaping such holds."

It was true that part of 'shoe camp involved grappling -- with other ponies, and with real and simulated creatures that had claws or hands. But that was years ago. She was going to be rusty as all buck...

Anonymous lowered the shaft of his mace down to lie flat on the ground, then rubbed his hands together and flexed his neck. "I guess I won't be needing this to start. What do you think, Corporal? Ready to get up close and personal in the ring? I'm no professional when it comes to wrestling, but don't hold back just because I'm your VIP. Let's give the sergeant here a good show."

Honour took a deep breath and looked down at the sand pit, then back up at the colt she was sworn to guard with her life.

Well, one thing was for sure: Training exercise or no, she was still going to give him everything she’d got.

"Let's go, sir."

Suggested interlude music: Kenny Loggins - 'Playing with the Boys' [1986], as featured in Top Gun [1986]
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4QAsFnzJ-xU

Chapter 103

Lily Glamerspear

‘This is actually kinda hot.’

"HRAAAGH!"

"GRNNFH!"

With a diving attack, the Royal Engineer managed to get his long, powerful arms wrapped around Corporal Bound's barrel, and the two of them went tumbling down into the sand. The brown pony then proceeded to buck and thrash like a wild weasel, even as the larger biped clambered partially on top of her.

"...HNnnnnfggh!"

"Hurhhh!"

The struggle continued, accompanied by yet more, animalistic grunts on both sides.

Meanwhile, Ebonshield clopped her hooves together from the sidelines. "Yes, good! Shout with force! The shout will focus your energy, and also ensure that you breathe properly while fighting!"

Somehow, Honour managed to get her torso free, and kicked herself back up onto all fours, leaving Anonymous in the sand.

"HUP!"

... Only to flop right back down when he grabbed her left hind leg at the last second.

"... GRRrrr! Foal-of-a-bitch!"

It was nice to see the corporal on the verge of losing her temper for a change. To be fair, though, their Very Important Pony -- who quite obviously wasn't a pony at all -- was one slippery customer in the sandpit. Even weighed down by that bronze armor, he was fast on his hooves -- his feet, rather -- and he had a long reach, too. And when he did grab something, he had enough strength to hold on pretty good, too.

Which was not to say that the corporal was letting him off easy.

Behind the T-shaped slit in his helmet, Specialist Lily Glamerspear could hear Anonymous panting heavily, and the exposed parts of his body were absolutely glistening with sweat. It was so slick that he had to remember to wipe his hands in the sand every now and then to regain his grip.

"...Buck! Off! HRRAH!"

With three ferocious kicks, the fearless leader of their quaternion lashed out at the Royal Engineer's blackened-bronze armor, knocking the wind out of him and escaping his grasp yet again. Shaking his head, Anonymous paused a moment on one knee to regain his breath. A few hooves away, the brown earth pony, her chest heaving, and her neck covered with sweat-foam, waited for the next attempt on her physical liberty. After almost twenty minutes, Anonymous still hadn't managed to completely wrestle her into submission.

And that's what was kinda hot about this whole setup.

The spectacle gave Lily the thrill of combat and challenge -- combined with an impressive display of power, agility, and speed. And the air was full of animalistic grunts, moans, and shouts. The whole thing was semi-sexual, but the tension of wondering who would break first was what really pushed it over the edge. Would Corporal Bound end up in his grasp, immobilized under his firm, muscular body? Or would the savage predator finally wear from the hunt? The unicorn had to admit she was nursing a bit of a horn ante-glow from the whole thing. And it wasn't just because of those manaburn-induced fever dreams she’d had about her VIP! Though they certainly didn't help.

Neither did remembering just how much he could fill out a pair of swim shorts.

As Anonymous got to his feet, rolled his shoulders, dusted his hands with sand, and then flexed his arms impressively to ready himself for the next round, Lily ‘unf’ed internally.

"Unf."

And maybe a little externally, too. Well, at least Lily was being a little more subtle than Miss Rocketfeathers next to her.

"Ooooh!"

Sparkshower’s wings were out at full mast, and even through her bascinet-helm visor, Lily could hear her heavy breathing. The unicorn swore she could even see some of the pegasus’ ample tuft peeking out between the joints of her bronze full plate.

‘Cripes, next thing you know this mare is going to have her tongue wagging out like a dog.’

Lily decided to lean in and try to settle her down. After all, even though Anonymous and Honour were currently occupied with each other, and Ebonshield was focused on the combat, there was still the chance that somepony would notice her over here! The musicians of the Grand Hall of Stars' little orchestra were having coffee and chatting amongst themselves, but they were watching the fight, too. And Ignacio…

Well, he said he was going to take a nap, but that old goat seemed to be able to 'see' a whole lot for a blind bat!

"Psst... Sparks, you wanna settle down a bit?"

"Huh? Oh..." She lifted her visor, and Lily saw just how wide that poor, broken-hearted, thirsty mare's irises had grown. "...Uhm... Sorry. They've got a mind of their own sometimes."

‘Yeah, 'mind of their own.' Sure thing, mare.’

Lily rolled her eyes. "Well, at least try not to blurt out your excitement too much, you know what I mean?"

It's at that moment that Anonymous decided to make an energetic lunge at Corporal Bound, who had been circling around away from him.

"HRAAAAAAHH!"

"HUUUU!"

He managed to get his left hand on her left-flank armor, and Lily dropped her conversation with Sparkshower to watch the grapple unfold.

"...Raaaah!"

Honour shouted and tried to scramble forward away from him, but he managed to swing his other hand around and slap it noisily into her right flank.

"Mmmf!"

Lily bit her lower lip, while Sparkshower swooned.

"OOOoohhh!"

As Honour bucked and kicked, Anonymous' fingers struggled to find a piece of armor to grab onto, but in the meantime Lily had the sight -- and the sound! -- of that tantalizing little flank-clap to think about.

Yeah, she wouldn't say 'no' to receiving something like that while a colt was mounting her -- maybe not quite so hard, though.

The unicorn’s fantasy was interrupted by the scraping of oiled bronze on oiled bronze as Sparkshower leaned over towards her. "You know you're showing a bit at the horn too, don't you, Lily?"

‘Damn, is it actually visible?’

She glanced upwards and sure enough, there was a little bit of glistening, teal light at the top of her horn. Probably not enough for anypony who wasn’t sitting right next to her to notice.

Lily nodded. "Thanks, Sparks. But it's got a mind of its own sometimes, too, ya know?"

Artemis chuckled a little awkwardly. "Yeah..." Licking her lips, she looked back towards the combat. "...They're really going at it, aren't they?"

As she said that, Anonymous managed to get one of his hands on Honour's back armor, and with a ferocious shout, he pulled and flipped her over into the air.

"They sure are."

However, that impressive maneuver came at a cost, when the impact of her body into the sand caused him to let go with both of his hands, and Honour scrambled away from him once more.

Sparkshower took a deep breath and then whispered even more quietly. "You know... Anonymous is actually into... tackplay."

Lily was a bit too busy watching admiringly as the Royal Engineer got to his feet while facing away from her. She’d had a good look underneath when his armored kilt flared open just then. There was the same bulge she remembered from the Spa Dalecarlia. And filly, did he ever have some muscles on those thighs… a colt like that could buck her right in half.

‘Wait, did Sparkshower say something?’

"Sorry, Sparks, what'd you say?"

Breathing heavily, she repeated herself, staring at the spectacular hairless ape in the sandpit before her. "He's into tackplay. He told me yesterday."

‘What's this now?’

"Huh? 'Tackplay'?"

Licking her lips again, she explained breathlessly. "You know... tackplay. Saddles, stirrups, bits and bridles, that sort of thing?"

Lily had no idea what she was talking about. "You've lost me, Sparks."

Sparkshower sighed as the Royal Engineer started running after Honour, waiting for a moment to strike, shadowing her whenever she juked and dodged.

‘Yeah c'mon colt, get your big arms around that brown flank again…’

"I mean, when you wear a saddle and stuff... in, uhm, the bedroom."

‘The buck she just say?’

‘A saddle in the bedroom?’

The unicorn shook her head in confusion, forced to look away from Anonymous and Honour.

"What?"

Sparkshower stamped one forehoof awkwardly, shrugging her shoulders in frustration. "Come on, Lily, you... you don't know about tackplay? I know it's not exactly mainstream, but I thought you would know about it. With what you do and all. As a saltine, I mean."

‘What in the buck is she on about?’

Furrowing her brow, Lily shook her head. "Mare, I don't know what you think I do with my salt-lick colts, but it sure doesn't involve whatever you're talking about."

Artemis shrugged her shoulders again. "Haven't any of them ever, y'know, worn any tackle? Or asked you to?"

Lily shook her head again, as her confusion lingered. Tackle was for hitching up and pulling a cart; shouldn't a country mare know that, even if she was an airborne pegasus?

Looking embarrassed, Sparkshower scraped one armored forehoof against the other armored foreleg. "...No? None of them ever asked you to, uh... To call them 'master' or maybe to treat them as a... uh... a slave? Just in the bedroom, I mean?"

Lily shook her head again, slowly this time. "Listen, Sparkshower, when I'm rolling in the hay with a colt, it's about his long, stiff, you-know-what and getting that meaty thing into one of the two available places in me..."

She tilted her head a bit. "...Maybe three, if it's a special occasion." Rolling her eyes, Lily wiggled her butt involuntarily as uncomfortable memories came to mind. "Some colts get pushy about wanting that one, on account of how it feels for them, but I prefer to be able to stand up and walk around afterwards, ya know?"

Now it was her armored pegasister's turn to furrow her brow. "Really? It hurts that much?"

Lily answered as she turned her attention back to the fight -- nothing had happened yet, but she was sure it was about to, and she didn’t want to miss it. "If the colt is big, yeah. And I'm not really into it much myself."

A sly grin crept across her face, and she glanced sideways up at Sparkshower. "...Your old Huckleberry never tried to get in through your backdoor?"

Artemis shook her head. "No. He never really tried to get in at all. I had to start things, guide him. I mean." With another sigh, she shrugged. "...It didn't bother me; not really. I had fantasies, you know? And I would have loved to see them come true, but I was happy with him even if they didn't."

‘Geez.’ Feather Fally over there was kinda killing her ante-glow vibe from all that sweaty, grunty, close-combat violence.

Lily tried to switch her back onto some different tracks. "And this 'tackplay' stuff, it's one fantasy?"

That brightened the pegasus up, and the unicorn saw her eyes open up wide again. "Yeah. You really don't know about it?"

When Lily shook her head, Artemis continued. "Tackplay is when you use harnesses and saddles and stuff in the bedroom. One partner wears the tack, or maybe even both, and then it's like... one of the partners is more in charge than the other, you know what I mean? And they use the tackle to control the submissive one."

She started to get breathy, her irises dilating and her wings spreading further. "...I always fantasized about being strapped up, with a bit and bridle, saddle and stirrups, and, uhm..."

Sparkshower licked her lips before continuing. "...Forced to do what my colt wanted."

‘What the buck?’

Lily scrunched up her snout. "You want to be raped?!"

Instantly, Artemis’ armor clattered as she waved her forehooves dismissively in front of her. "No, no! It's not like that, Lily. It's..." She swallowed deeply. "...It's like acting, you know? Everything gets agreed on beforehoof. It's just playing out a fantasy."

The unicorn semi-unscrunched her snout, but she still had one eyebrow cocked in confusion. "And your fantasy is to be bound up with cart-tackle, and have the colt pretend to... force himself on you?"

As Lily tried to regurgitate what Artemis was telling her in her own words, a look of satisfaction crept onto the pegasus’ face. "Yeah..."

With another breathless sigh, she stared as Anonymous lunged, unfortunately ineffectively, at the corporal. "...I want to feel small, and maybe even helpless. I want to feel like my colt is so big and so strong and so dominant that he's completely in control and I couldn't resist him even if I wanted to -- not that I want to, I mean."

Sparkshower slowly heaved her shoulders up and down as the Royal Engineer let out another animal roar and recovered from his failed lunge into another just-barely-missed grab at Honour's hind leg.

"...And... I want to be told I'm a bad filly and that I have to be punished for being bad."

‘Okay now this is a whole new flavor of weird.’

"You? A bad filly? You're the most upstanding pony I've ever met, Artemis."

Sparkshower drooped her head down a little bit and raised her eyebrows pleadingly. "I know! I always look both ways before crossing the cold front, and I always say 'please' and 'thank-you,' and I always salute officers in the hallways."

Then she firmed up and the supplicating expression turned into a dark grin. "But what if I wasn't? What if I was actually a bad pony, not just for disobeying the rules of society -- but for disobeying my colt? My master?"

The grin turned into a kind of smile Lily had seen before -- usually plastered across some colt's face as she looked up from taking her first eager slurp of his meat.

"...And he'd have to correct my bad behavior. By pulling on my reins, or spanking my flank, or switching my plot, or even climbing on my saddle and riding me around. And then I wouldn't feel like such a big, strong, invincible heavily-armored Royal Guard pegasus any more."

Artemis heaved a sigh so big that Lily could even see her breastplate move.

The unicorn really didn’t get it.

"Sparks, you're scaring me a bit here. After all the excitement you got from being 'bucking invincible' with your fancy new lance and heavy armor, now you say you want to feel the exact opposite when you're with a colt?"

Lily’s poor, heartbroken, confused filly-friend just shook her head and shrugged. "Yeah. I guess it sounds pretty strange when you put it that way."

Now it was Lily’s turn to shrug. "Eh, I dunno... I guess I've heard of weirder stuff."

Her attention turned back to Anonymous, who was hunched down with his arms spread wide, having backed the Corporal up against the edge of the ring.

"...And you say Anonymous is into it?"

Artemis licked her lips again. "Well, I mean... I don't know how much, but he said yesterday he had experimented with saddle-play before he came here, at a 'tourist ranch.'"

‘What?’

That sounded like the kind of depraved thing you'd find on the outskirts of Las Pegasus.

"Hunh. I guess that makes the fight look a bit different to you, then."

Sparkshower nodded, and replied in a breathy voice. "...Yeah. Just imagine..." There was the sound of scraping metal as she tilted her head sideways. "...What if Honour was actually attracted to Anonymous, and she actually wanted to be captured, and that the chase was all a game they played, and that once she was good and caught, struggling helplessly but immobilized, that he'd mount her and..."

‘Okay, yeah, there's my anteglow going again.’

Lily thought she understood where Sparkshower was coming from now, but since she trailed off while biting her lip, Lily spoke up and finished the fantasy the way she’d want it to end.

"...And after satisfying himself, and pleasing her, too, they'd lie exhausted together, cuddling in silence, as lovers do?"

Artemis licked her lips and sighed. "Yeah..."

‘Nice.’

Just then, Honour broke to the left, and Anonymous lunged at her with outstretched hands. He got one arm around her torso, and managed to lock the other one together with it, driving the corporal down into the sand. She was kicking and bucking furiously, but the Royal Engineer managed to maintain his grip, enduring the blows to his chest all while tightening his bear-hug.

‘Buck, is he actually going to do it this time?’

Glamerspear and Sparkshower were both on the edge of their hooves watching the scene unfold, when suddenly there was an outburst from above. "Enough! I cannot take any more of this!"

Everypony -- including the previously idle musicians, to the clatter of coffee cups -- looked up to see Ignacio, the blind Balladeer of Ghosts, shouting down from between the curtains of his pulpit.

"...It is as if there is a hive full of ten thousand bees all living inside of my head! Sleep is impossible with that incessant buzzing jou are making!"

He angrily thrusted out his forehoof, and it was pointing straight at Lily.

‘Oh, buck, I forgot.’

The blind old bat could somehow 'hear' when she had her horn ready to go.

And now everypony was looking over at her, and her lit-up horn.

Anonymous had even let go of Honour and was getting to his feet, dusting the sand off of his armor. He looked around and saw Sergeant Ebonshield looking just as confused as anypony else, while Honour was still regaining her breath, so he nodded in Lily’s direction.

"Is something wrong, Specialist?"

‘Hoo-foal.’

This was almost as bad as being caught in her bedroom with a conveniently shaped cucumber.

Except it was by her studly employer, instead of her own mother.

"Uhm. No, nothing's wrong, sir."

The Royal Engineer shrugged. "Well, what's the meaning of Ignacio's complaint, then? Why is your horn lit up? Were you influencing the fight with magic?"

‘Wow.’ Okay, he must not know about unicorn horns.

She shook her head. "No, sir, I wasn't influencing the fight. Uh... my horn's lit up for the same reason that Sparkshower's wings are outstretched, ya know?"

The cream-colored pegasus in question went beet red. But she still didn’t quite have the willpower to lower her wings.

Corporal Bound, having regained her hoofing, looked between Glamerspear, Sparkshower, and a still-confused Anonymous, then grumbled and shook her head. "He doesn't know what that means either, Glamerspear. He's not from here, remember?"

‘Buck, that's right.’

He didn’t know about pony tufts, or pegasus wingboners, or unicorn anteglows.

Ebonshield cocked an eyebrow, and Lily got the sense that she'd cottoned on to the situation. She still stayed quiet, though -- which meant the spotlight was still on her and Sparkshower.

"Uhm, sorry, sir. It's just that, uh --"

‘Oh, Celestia, how can I put this in a not-too-embarrassing-for-anypony way?’

"...It's just that your, ah, wrestling match, with the Corporal has been pretty, uh, stimulating, you know what I mean?"

He didn’t look like he did.

Before Lily could think of a new phrasing, Sparkshower spoke up.

"Sir, you're a very powerful and handsome colt, and watching you chase the athletic and attractive corporal, and try to grab her and wrestle her to the ground, with all the grunting and panting and sweating you're both making--" She sighed, her outstretched wings bobbing up and down as she did. "...It's really very provocatively arousing, sir. Which is why my wings are outstretched and Lily's horn is lit up. It's an involuntary reaction, sir, but you should take it as a compliment."

There was the subtle way of explaining it, and there was the blunt way of explaining it, and then there was this 'bucking-invincible'-with-a-two-ton-bronze-hammer blunt way of explaining it.

Anonymous didn’t say anything, and Lily couldn’t read anything into his reaction other than maybe shock. Honour, meanwhile, had actually started to blush underneath her frown. Ebonshield just looks faintly amused. The musicians seemed to just be shrugging and going back to their coffee.

‘Thank Celestia their Equestrian isn't so good.’

‘I may as well wrap it all up now, then.’

Swallowing, Lily turned up towards the blind batpony who called her out. "Sorry to have disturbed your sleep, Mister Blazon, sir."

Ignacio whinnied and lowered his forehoof. "Hunh. All this magic, radiated for no purpose other than to show that the loins are excited?"

He shook his head, and the red tassels on his black face-mask jangled to and fro. "...Jou fascinate me, unicornio. Wake me when jou are all done, and we shall speak together." With a dismissive wave, he retired behind his curtain.

And yet, Lily still felt like she had that cucumber half inside of her with her mother staring down, aghast.

Anonymous cleared his throat and dispelled the silence.

"Ahem. Maybe we should take a little break."

On cue, the sergeant strode out into the sandpit. "An idea most excellent, Great Lord! This has been a display most invigorating and enlightening. I believe now that I may be able to teach you certain tricks additional to improve your technique."

When she reached the two in the pit, she gave a small bow. "But for now, yes, let us rest. I can see that you were close to catching the Corporal Bound by exhaustion alone, if nothing else."

Anonymous shuffled his feet uncomfortably, looking down at Honour, who was still pretty red-faced from Sparkshower's blatant admission of adulation. "I don't know... You weren't giving me a lot of openings, Corporal, even just now before the interruption. I was running out of steam."

Honour swallowed and shook her head. "No, sir -- but the sergeant is right. You pretty much had me at the end."

Ebonshield smiled. "Of course, of course. But I shall also give you some advice as well, CaporalCabo Honoria, privately -- so that the next time, even if our Great Lord has learned new tricks, you will be able to match him still. The scales must be balanced evenly for a contest true and fair!"

Still grinning, she waved a leathery wing out from underneath her black cloak in the direction of Glamerspear and Sparkshower. "...And perhaps afterwards, is there some other technique with which you wish to experiment? Possibly with one of your other attendants? I am open to teaching whatever skills the Great Lord desires."

That was a pretty explicit innuendo there that served just to embarrass Lily and Sparkshower further.

But, mercifully, the Royal Engineer either missed it or ignored it completely. "To be honest, I had a lot of fun fighting with daggers last time we were down here. The 'Icosapligi' mace that Bronzehorn made for me is very impressive, and I doubt I would need even close to all twenty of its blows to beat someone, but it is quite heavy for me -- and I think it would be good to have a backup weapon."

Ebonshield beamed, gesturing excitedly with her wings. "Yes, certainly! And the art of plunging something into the heart of another is one which I am most intimately familiar. I shall solicit Toledo on your behalf for your own pair of blades -- or a brace, even, for you could easily throw them also."

The sergeant glanced in Lily’s direction, and the enthusiasm suddenly drained from her face. When it was replaced with a stern look, the unicorn realized Ebonshield was not looking quite at her, but rather above her.

And above and behind her would be the main staircase for descending into the fighting pit.

Anonymous and Honour followed her gaze as well, and Sparkshower and Glamerspear both turned around to see what had their sergeant's attention. Lily realized it was a who, not a what, when a hooded figure at the top of the stairs spoke out.

"Pureza. First you deeshonourr yourrself, then you deeshonourr yourr house, now you deeshonourr the Gran Salón, and then you prropose to deeshonourr even los Rocas."

It was almost impossible to make out one black-cloaked batpony from another, but Lily would recognize that voice anywhere, and instantly she lit up her horn -- for real, this time.

Sergeant Ebonshield calmly spoke her brother's name.

"Marcos..." Throwing her hood back, she stepped out, interposing herself between the Royal Engineer and the new arrival. Then, with a sneer, she kicked up a shower of sand. "... If you have something to say to me, Marcos, come down into the pit and speak to my muzzle."

The new challenger threw back his hood as well, and there was a soft clattering of hoofsteps as a dozen more of his black-cloaked kin spread out from behind him, taking up positions in the gallery.

Marcos nodded. "Sí, Pureza. Ay theenk that ay shall."

‘Oh, buck.’

Suggested interlude music: Bill Elm & Woody Jackson - 'El Club de los Cuerpos', from 'Red Dead Redemption' [2010]
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gzks5cZK71c

Chapter 104

Artemis Sparkshower

Specialist Artemis Sparkshower didn’t like the look of this storm one bit.

Like dark clouds gathering on the horizon, the twelve black-cloaked batpony soldiers surrounded her, waiting at the edges of the viewing gallery above the combat arena. They were barely forty hooves away from where she now stood, gathered up with her quaternion in the middle of the sand-pit, surrounding the Royal Engineer for his safety -- Eb in front, herself and Honour on flanks, and Glam in the rear.

What really put Artemis’ ears up was the singular, big black storm-cloud still standing at the top of the main entrance staircase, almost eighty hooves away. Marcos, their Sergeant's brother, was exactly the kind of cyclonic depression that Equestria AWACS Command would send a whole brigade of weather-ponies to break up before it could cause any real damage.

Unfortunately, right then it was just her quaternion plus her VIP.

And the menacing batponies had them outnumbered twelve to five.

To say nothing of them commanding the high ground!

Marcos' great black cloak slowly lifted up at the sides, and then with one lightning-quick wing-pump, he shot up into the air like an arrow, arcing towards the apex of the domed ceiling in the Grand Hall of Stars, over a hundred hooves up.

Artemis made to ready her lance in case he dived down, but before she’d barely even laid a hoof on it, the batpony disappeared in a blur, and she flinched involuntarily when there was a sudden blast of sand before her. Glamerspear, Honour, and even the Royal Engineer all turned away and threw up forelegs or arms to shield their eyes, but Artemis’ bascinet-helm visor saved her from most of the spray.

And when the dusty sand-cloud dissipated, she was stunned by what she saw.

Suggested background music: Paul Ruskay - 'Captain Soban', from 'Homeworld 2' [2003]
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Txflz0Z_CA0

Marcos was standing in a shallow hole right in front of Purity, surrounded by a small raised rim of sand.

‘Whoa, h-he's fast!’

Behind and slightly to the side of the Royal Engineer, Glamerspear gasped out in shock.

"What?!"

Despite her outburst, Marcos paid no attention to the rest of them, staying focused on his sister before him.

Surprisingly, it was the sergeant who spoke first, stepping back closer to the rest of them, allowing Marcos room to emerge from his small impact crater and face her on an equal footing.

"There is no need for theatrics, Marcos. I know well the techniques of the Swarming Meteors." As he approached to meet her, muzzle-to-muzzle, she continued. "And I know you are more than worthy to be a Sixth, my brother."

Marcos stopped and regarded his sister straight in the eyes for a long time. Still without so much as glancing away from her, he opened his mouth, speaking slowly. "Thees deymonstrration... Thees 'tee-atrrics,' as you say... Eet was not for yourr ayes dat I do thees..."

Throwing back his hood with a single sharp backwards head-shake, Artemis saw his nostrils flare as he took a deep breath. "...Eet was sso that yourr 'battle-siblings' would know also hwhat they face."

Then he nodded in the Royal Engineer's direction. "...Tell heem."

With her attention fixed on her brother, Ebonshield spoke up, addressing the rest of them while facing away. "This is my younger brother, Marcos Ébanoscudo. He is a Sixth of the Temple of the Swarming Meteors, a school which focuses on the dives sudden and violent, as you have seen."

Delicately licking her lips, she continued more quietly. "...And he has said very many rude things about me, and also about all of you."

With what almost felt like a shrug, Artemis saw her bob her head slightly. "I threatened to kill him the last time he confronted me with these insults. Apparently, this message has not been understood."

At that, Marcos smiled. "No, Pureza, eet has been underrstood. Thhat ees why ay am heerre with battle-siblings of my own."

Sergeant Ebonshield whinnied. "You needed such a large escort just to hurl more insults at me, Marcos?"

He shook his head in reply. "To insult, no. The tayme to dissuade you frrom deeshonourring yourrself weeth tallk ees ober." He inhaled sharply before finishing. "...Now, eet ees time to errase yourr shayme."

To Artemis’ surprise, Ebonshield growled. She hadn’t heard her do that since she had to face the Royal Engineer's shadowy sand-clone almost a week ago in this very pit.

And that had seemed like a real battle of life and death.

"My shame! My shame! Your foolish and outdated ideas have no place anymore, especially not on this world, Marcos!" Snarling, she spattered his muzzle with spittle as she carried on. "Everything I have done, I have done at the will of the Mother-of-Stars herself, commanded in Her presence by Her very flesh and blood!"

But the darker-colored batpony standing in front of her didn’t so much as flinch or move to wipe his face. Instead, he waited, breathing slowly, a drop of spit running down his leather chanfron.

Then, at last, he opened his mouth, and spoke words full of loathing. "That surrface-dwelling abomeenation ees not ourr Grreat Motherr."

Inhaling deeply, he narrowed his eyes almost lazily. "No trrue Child of the Starrs hwould eber follow that eempostorr."

Artemis was almost shocked that the Sergeant hadn't given him a head-butt as she did when he first showed up in her quarters. Back then, he was just insulting the three of them, her quaternion-mates.

But now he was disparaging Her Majesty Princess Luna!

Glamerspear whispered from behind. "Bastard."

Glancing behind her, Artemis saw her horn was fully lit up, and there was a teal outline of a spear, half-materialized above her head. Then Honour turned around as well, and gave the zealous unicorn a stern head-shake. With a barely-audible grumble, the partially conjured spear disappeared, but Lily's horn stayed lit. After all, there was de-escalating a situation, and then there was letting your guard down!

Wanting to avoid violence or not, Artemis wasn’t going to let these 'Swarming Meteors' get the drop on their group.

In front of her, she saw Ebonshield swallow. "If not for the Edict of Blood, I would have slaughtered you..."

She leaned in closer, almost pressing her brow against his. "...Instead, I must pity you, Marcos..."

With a sigh, she raised her eyebrows, staring into his dark eyes. "...You have never felt Her presence. You have never seen Her open up the heavens above, raining down the stars like Her tears. You have never felt them envelop you, filling you with Her warmth..." For a moment, Ebonshield closed her eyes and reveled in the memory of Princess Luna's powerful presence. It had been an incredible experience, and Artemis was reminded of the beautiful scene herself.

But what a risk to take with her murderous brother standing right there!

"... You have never accepted Her star-dust, bathed in Her spirit, breathed in Her passion..."

Opening her eyes again, she met Marcos' impassive gaze with a kind of tenderness. "If you had, you would never speak such blasphemy."

Marcos barely showed any emotion. "Eet ees no blasphemee to rreject a false God."

The Sergeant pulled her head back slightly, relaxing her stare. "Our own mother has affirmed also the Edict of Blood."

He just shook his head. "Worrds spoken by a false God rremain always false, no matter who rrepeats them. Eet ees ourr duty to deesobey."

Ebonshield snorted. "Carmen will be upset nonetheless."

"Ay weell endurre herr temperr..." Marcos curled his lip up into a sneer. "... Een the end, eet will be worth eben her angerr to errase the stain you habe mayde."

It seemed like there was just no stopping this storm with words. Was this going to come to blows after all?

Purity surveyed the forces ranked against them in the gallery. "Thirteen Swarming Meteors against the five of us. These are odds quite slim, Marcos. Are you so certain of victory?"

Marcos tilted his head slightly.

"No. Not thirrteen against fibe, Pureza. Thirrteen against one."

‘What?’

Is he suggesting that they won't fight alongside their quaternion's sergeant? As if that was going to happen!

But Marcos only nodded towards the Royal Engineer. "You arre sworrn to prrotect heem with yourr life, Pureza. Eef he fights weeth you, he dies weeth you. But eef you fight alone..."

The menacing batpony looked to one side. "...Then he may leabe herre, alibe."

Ebonshield stiffened. "And the others?"

"Tweested as you arre, you arre still hwan of the Childrren, one of us. And they..." He nodded towards the quaternion. "... They will neverr assept you, neber lub as we deed, Pureza. Thees ees your mistake, to habe forrgotten yourr true Motherr, and to habe shunned yourr people for these surrface-born."

Marcos licked his lips. "Fayce us alone, and they may all deparrt alibe."

Glamerspear had had enough, and angrily stamped her hind hooves on the ground, swaying her neck left and right. "Buster, if you think for one instant that we're going to abandon our sergeant and hoof her over to be executed just because she's a batpony, you've got another thing coming."

Artemis’ helmet rattled as she gave a sharp nod. "That's right! Equestria is the land of 'From many ponies, one,' and we don't give up our own!"

Looking to her corporal for reassurance, Artemis saw her hesitate for a moment, but then she forcefully stamped a forehoof down as well. "You won't take the sergeant without fighting all of us."

‘That'll show him!’

Sure enough, Ebonshield smiled as she glanced back. "I am glad to hear your support, mi cuaternion. Never have I been made to feel unwelcome among you."

The smile turned into a menacing grin when she faced her brother once more. "Do you begin to see how mistaken you are, Marcos? You are wrong about the Equestrians, you are wrong about the Mother-of-Stars, you are wrong about me, and you are wrong to think that you can win. There is still the time to reconsider."

But it didn’t seem their show of solidarity had impressed her brother very much. "Thees chaynges nathing. Eben with the many treeks and applayances that yourr school so lobes, you will not ween. Thirrteen against fourr..."

He shook his head dismissively, and Artemis had to admit, the numbers were not in their favor. But if they worked together, after what they saw of her last week, Artemis had no doubt that Sergeant Ebonshield could eliminate these aggressors all by herself -- provided they kept the others at bay long enough for her to face them one or two at a time. Even Lily could probably shoot most of them down, if Artemis only held them off her long enough to manage it. It was just a matter of coordination...

"... Surrenderr and sparre yourr compañeros, my seester. Thees ees more than thrree against wone."

Artemis heard a voice from above and beside her. "Not when there's five of us fighting you."

Peeking out the side of her visor, she saw the Royal Engineer menacingly pound his right mailed fist into his open left gauntlet.

Instantly, Honour looked up at him. "Sir, this isn't your fight. We're the soldiers, let us take care of it."

Pulling his helmet down to cover his face, Anonymous shook his head. "I'm not going to stand by and watch others fight to the death on my behalf, just because I wanted to do some combat training."

‘That's not really fair!’

He wanted to learn to fight, sure -- but it was the sergeant who chose to hold the training down here. Not that Artemis was blaming her, of course, but if it wasn't for that decision, then they wouldn't be in this situation.

Although, her brother would probably still be trying to kill her...

But at least the Royal Engineer wouldn't be involved.

Corporal Bound pleaded with their VIP. "You can't blame yourself for this situation, sir. And we're sworn to defend you, not the other way around."

Even Ebonshield dared to look away from her brother to speak back at the Royal Engineer. "The caporal is correct in this; we are here because I thought to use this Grand Hall. Your concern is appreciated, but you have no responsibility to join us in this fight."

To Artemis’ surprise, Marcos chuckled. "Heh. And eben eef you join, hwhat can you do weethout yourr club and yourr sheeld?" He nodded up towards the section of the gallery where the Royal Engineer's equipment still lay from before they began this exercise, watched over by one of his Swarming Meteors.

It hadn't seemed like an unsafe place at the time, but now they were dangerously out of reach. Even powered by the thundering speed of Bradamante Lance, Artemis doubted she could grab them and bring them back before the fight began in earnest. It probably wouldn't be worth trying, not until at least a number of the attackers had already been dealt with.

Anonymous banged both of his armored fists against his blackened-bronze breastplate with a loud CLUNG.

"You and your 'Swarming Meteors' don't scare me, Marcos."

He pointed a menacing finger at the batpony. "This doesn't have to end in violence, but if it does, I've got everything I need to fight you right here. And you'll be thirteen smashed meteorites lying in pieces on the ground if you think otherwise."

Then he clenched his hand back into a fist, and let out a growl. All Artemis could see in the shadow of the T-shaped slit of his helm were the whites of his eyes and his big, sharp teeth.

‘Gosh, that's a little unnerving.’

Who knew their VIP could be so intimidating?

From the back row, Glamerspear laughed. "Bucking right! You want to go up against Their Majesties' Royal Engineer and his quaternion, you'd better bring a whole buckin' army!"

As Marcos sneered disdainfully, Ebonshield got up in his face again. "You see? You should have brought more Meteors, Marcos. Or could you find only twelve who were willing to violate their oath to protect the Palace at night?"

He angrily barked back his reply. "Ay found morre than enough who werre weelling to do hwhat needed to be done!"

Artemis heard hoofsteps coming from the outside hallway, and Marcos' anger turned back into a sinister grin. "... And ay have not brrought only twelbe... Ay have brrought fourteen."

Two black-cloaked batponies, indistinguishable from the other twelve already in the room, entered through the doorway and, after a brief pause to nod to each other, they fanned out to join their comrades in the gallery above and around the pegasus.

"Theese two arribe late only because they werre mayking cerrtain that yourr other students would not interferre weeth us."

‘He doesn’t mean that little foal and filly who helped rake the sandpit and set up the targets last time, does he?’

Ebonshield looked sharply at the two newcomers. "What have you done with them?"

Her brother settled back into his detached stance. "You Estellares habe too many treeks and secrrets; eet would be too easy for them to eenterrupt and spoil ourr plans. My Meteors deed what needed to be done, queek and payneless."

Artemis’ heart sank when Ebonshield reared her head back, her eyes wide with shock. "They were children, Marcos! Initiates! Not even of the first rank! Shadows take you, murderer."

But her brother just looked down his muzzle at her. "Theirr blood ees on yourr hooves, Pureza, not mine. You filled theirr heads with blasphemies, and you filled their hearrts with corruption. Ay am merrely cleaning up yourr mess."

‘Oh, no.’

Their batpony Sergeant, who had been such a good friend as well as a good soldier ever since Artemis had met her, stood aghast, speechless. Then her expression hardened, and she lowered her head once more, meeting her brother brow-to-brow once more.

"I will avenge their deaths, Marcos."

He gave a slight nod. "Then ay weell die, but ay weell have done my duty to the Cheeldrren."

Marcos tilted his head slightly, still looking into the Sergeant's eyes. "Eef yourr conscience botherrs you, then choose to fayt us alone instead. My offerr to let these others leabe still stands. Ees that not what yourr Maestro Romà de Balj prreached as his 'Trruth Stellarr'? That therre was no goal higherr than to die forr the Grreat Motherr?"

Taking a step back, he used one wing to brusquely fling his cloak aside, revealing that he, too, had blades on his wing-arms. But unlike Purity's ensemble, his outfit actually had normal-looking metal sabots, with no complex spring-loaded blades strapped to his legs. He had a metal peytral, too, styled not unlike those worn by ordinary Royal Guard.

Now that Artemis could see him without cloak or hood, she saw that his chanfron head armoring was heavier, too, with blackened metal plates riveted to the leather strips, though it was still not up to Royal Guard standards. No doubt the heavier armoring was required for the 'Swarming Meteors' to endure their diving attacks. That was something to keep in mind in a few moments, when she had to fight the rest of them as well.

Still stepping away, Marcos called out. "Die forr the Grreat Motherr, Estellar Siete Pureza Ébanoscudo, mi hermana, eef that ees who you trruly believe the wone who walks on the surrface to be. Yourr temple weell rememberr yourr sacrrifice fondly, meesguided as eet ees."

Suggested background music: BenDanProductions - 'Battlefield Theme, Acoustic Cover (Mariachi Style)' [1993], original composition by Joel Eriksson
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MbC5mUU_z8s

As Ebonshield stood there, shocked, Artemis looked over at Corporal Bound.

‘She won't let Marcos' final words change things, will she?’

Honour exchanged glances with Artemis and Glamerspear, then whispered. "Everypony, protect Glamerspear and the Royal Engineer. Glam, get ready to gun them down, but watch out for Eb in the crossfire."

Glamerspear's grin grew twice as large, and she tapped the side of her helmet to lower the visor with a close-range targeting reticle. "'Bout buckin' time."

As Honour pulled a javelin off her back and snapped it together and Anonymous raised his fists up in a fighting stance, Artemis turned her body to face outwards from her VIP and her Anti-Air unicorn, eyes darting between the six cloaked batponies in front of and above her. Her armor was heavier than theirs, she was certain, and their diving attacks should be unable to penetrate it. It was just a matter of making sure they didn't bludgeon her anywhere important, like her head.

They couldn't possibly know what the 'Bradamante Lance' was capable of, so that was an advantage as well.

Expanding the weapon with a loud ka-CHONK, and partially mounting it with her hooves on the ground, Artemis resolved to let them make the first move, then harpoon them once they had given up their mobility by landing in the sandpit. Ideally, she should be able to spear one and body-check another in the first charge, if she could line them up properly.

To her right, Artemis saw the musicians finally decide they wanted no part of what was about to happen, and they scrambled to take refuge at the outer edge of the gallery. Artemis hoped Ignacio would be okay, sleeping up in his wooden pulpit...

If he was even still asleep.

Maybe Honour should have told Lily to watch out for him, too.

To Artemis’ left, she saw Marcos pull back the other side of his cloak, exposing both of his wings, and the shining 'steel' blades on them. He and Ebonshield both raised their wings up, and the pegasus could hear the scratching of metal on metal as the blades slowly extend.

‘It must be some kind of batpony ritual way of starting a duel…’

The pegasus didn’t think Ebonshield was going to be tackling any of the other batponies until she dealt with her own brother.

In the galleries around her, the other Swarming Meteors all started to lift their cloaks up with their wings, preparing for their ballistic ascent and subsequent dynamic entry into the sandpit.

‘Any moment now…’

Suggested background music: John Barry - 'Inflight Fight', from 'The Living Daylights' [1987]
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fEwkcIJkgf8

Suddenly, two foalish voices shouted in unison from above, ahead and behind.

"¡Gran Madre!"
"¡Gran Madre!"

In the blink of an eye, one of the batponies located in the middle of the group -- one of the two foal-killers to have arrived late -- whipped a forehoof out from underneath their cloak. To the shock and surprise of the other Swarming Meteors, the batpony -- whom Artemis now noticed had two bed-pillows strapped to their flanks -- slammed that same forehoof back down on the stone floor.

BANG-BANG-POOOOOFFF

There were a pair of deafening blasts from in front and from her back, accompanied by a blinding flash of light. Momentarily stunned, Artemis only heard Marcos cry out to her left.

"¡Trampa! ¡Mata el unicornio primero!"

Shaking her head, Artemis cleared the haze from her eyes, only to see the gallery level and the ceiling above her completely engulfed in thick, black smoke. She heard coughing and choking noises coming from where the Swarming Meteors had been standing, but she could see nothing through the impenetrably dark cloud. Then, a moment later, the same shouting batpony tumbled out from the darkness and opened her wings to coast towards their group, letting out another battle cry.

"¡Estelaaaaaareeeees!"

‘Wait, isn't that 'Stellar' in the batpony language?’

Just when Artemis put it together, she heard Glamerspear shout out one of her own in reply.

"SUCK ON MY SPEARS, BATPONY SCUM!"

Still facing forward, Artemis threw out a preventative foreleg towards her overeager comrade.

"Wait, Lily, they're on our side!"

Glamerspear scrunched up her snout in confusion, and she turned to see the same scene repeated on the other side, including the arrival of another, small-looking batpony. Both new arrivals threw off their cloaks and landed, revealing the rest of their outfits. Standing somewhat awkwardly on sabots that had been padded with what looked like bedsheets, the two had bed-pillows strapped to their sides to bulk up their bodies. And, although Artemis was no expert in batpony wing-blades, she was certain the ones they were wearing were several sizes too large. Once they discarded those clumsy devices and kicked off their padded horseshoes, Artemis recognized the two newcomers as 'Carto' and 'Águila,' the foal and filly students of Ebonshield.

‘Oh, thank Celestia -- they must have overcome their original attackers and then decided to impersonate them!’

As the two enterprising students bound their way towards Artemis’ group, no longer disguised, Carto, the foal in front of her, spoke up. "Today these Meteoros Idiotas taste two smoke-bombs of the Estellares! Her fumes shall strangle them to sleep, but a few may escape, so we must guard!"

Honour nodded in acknowledgement, and Artemis and the corporal both expanded the defensive formation to admit the two extra participants. "Okay, Glam, you heard them -- strafe the gallery."

Anonymous interrupted the increasingly-agitated unicorn before she could start firing. "Wait! We can do this without bloodshed -- Specialist, shoot up the place, but use your training rounds instead. We'll aim to knock out anyone who resists the smoke."

With nobody else objecting, and with an enthusiastic shout, Lily started to step around in a small circle, rotating in place as she let fly spear after spear without further delay.

CHUKA-CHUKA-CHUKA-CHUKA-CHUKA-CHUKA-

From inside the cloud, Artemis heard some of the dull-headed training rounds impact on flesh or armor instead of rock, accompanied by grunts of pain -- and all overlaid over the continuing sounds of coughing and choking.

"¡Uf!"

"¡Ay!-COUGH"

-CHUKA-CHUKA-CHUKA-CHUKA-CHUKA-CHUKA-

"¡OH!"

Keeping her ears up and facing forwards, Artemis waited anxiously for any sign of movement inside the obscuring gas.

-CHUKA-CHUKA-CHUKA-CHUKA-CHUKA-CHUKA-

"¡Yaa-Aaaa!"

With a high-pitched scream and a glimmering green, blunt-nosed spear ricocheting off his helmet, one of the hostile batponies tumbled in confusion over the gallery-edge, collapsing into the trench around the raised sandpit.

-CHUKA-CHUKA-CHUKA-CHUKA-CHUKA-CHUKA-

To Artemis’ surprise, Carto immediately ran forward and leapt into the trench, heading for the rack of wooden weapons, and seconds later, she heard the sounds of somepony getting thoroughly thrashed with a wooden stick.

SMACK WHACK SLAP

-CHUKA-CHUKA-CHUKA-CHUKA-CHUKA-CHUKA-

"¡Ayaaa!" One of the Swarming Meteors came flying out of the cloud, screeching with rage, eyes shut but forehooves held out in front of him and wing-blades extended to the sides.

-CHUKA-CHUKA-CHUKA-CHUKA-CHUKA-CHUKA-

Glamerspear was busy shooting up the other side of the gallery, so it looked like this one would be up to the pegasus; she lined up the target with the guard-side of the Bradamante Lance before stomping a hind hoof into its stirrup.

CLICKA-FWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOSSSHHHHH

In a split second, Artemis slammed the lance's hoofguard right into the blind charger, and she braced for the inevitable impact with him against the wall--

BONK-FWOOOOOOSHHH

--Only to be completely dizzied when, immediately after the pegasus flattened her target into the wall, instead of crashing right into him afterwards, there was a flash of blue light all around her, and the pegasus suddenly found herself hurtling at full speed in almost the exact opposite direction. Releasing the stirrup and flipping her visor up, she dry heaved from the nauseating experience.

TSSSSSSsssssssss

Accompanied by the now-familiar noise of the deactivated Lance, Artemis struggled to regain her senses.

‘What just happened?’

One moment, she was about to slam into stone at full speed, the next, she was heading for the exact opposite side of the ring. Slowly turning her head, she saw her target behind her, still plastered against the vertical slab of rock. After a moment, they slowly slid down it and crumpled into the trench.

-CHUKA-CHUKA-CHUKA-CHUKA-CHUKA-CHUKA-

Glamerspear was still filling the smoke-obscured gallery with spears, and Artemis resolved to figure out just what happened some other time. Surveying the scene, she saw another two knocked-out batponies down in the circular ditch, with Águila, the other initiate of the Stellar Dance, floating over them, gleefully rapping their wing-arms, knees, and shins with a stick held in her forehooves, to a small duet of moans and groans.

-CHUKA-CHUKA-CHUKA-CHUKA-CHUKA-CHUKA-

Looking over towards the main body of her group, Artemis saw that there was another batpony still standing, currently struggling to bring his wing-blades to bear on Corporal Bound, who was holding him at bay with one of her javelins. But while the cloaked attacker was occupied with Honour, the pegasus watched the Royal Engineer dodge around behind him.

-CHUKA-CHUKA-CHUKA-CHUKA-CHUKA-CHUKA-

Before the Swarming Meteor could react to being swarmed himself, Anonymous fearlessly seized the batpony's right bladed wing-arm in his left gauntlet, and then delivered a punishing body-blow punch to the exposed flank with the other.

"¡Huuf!"

With the wind completely knocked out of him, the batpony collapsed to the ground, and the Royal Engineer jumped on top, wrapping a left arm around the wheezing pony's neck.

-CHUKA-CHUKA-CHUKA-CHUKA-CHUKA-CHUKA-

From within the now-clearing smoke, Artemis heard a gasping cry from a collapsed Meteor in the gallery.

"¡Rendimos! ¡Rendimos! Wee surrender! Wee surrender!"

-CHUKA-CHUKA-CHUKA-CHUKA-CHUKA-CHUKA-

Whether she couldn’t hear the cry of surrender, or whether she didn’t care about it, Glamerspear continued to fill the gallery with shimmering teal blunt-nosed DPICM training rounds, laughing maniacally the whole time.

Anonymous delivered one forceful knock-out punch to the back of the Swarming Meteor's head, and then another, and Artemis saw the batpony's limbs go completely limp.

-CHUKA-CHUKA-CHUKA-CHUKA-CHUKA-CHUKA-

Finally, Honour called Glamerspear off.

"Cease fire! Cease fire! They're half dead and giving up, Glamerspear!"

-CHUKA-CHUKA!

Panting with excitement, Lily finally let up her barrage.

Floating back down to the sandpit, still feeling disoriented from whatever just happened with the 'Bradamante Lance' and that wall, Artemis turned to look over at Sergeant Ebonshield. She was quickly joined by Honour, Lily, the Royal Engineer, and the two Stellar initiates as well.

Twenty hooves ahead of the pegasus, Marcos was lying on his back, with Ebonshield on top of him, their wings and legs locked together in a clash. While the Swarming Meteor tried to twist the blades inwards to strike his sister, Purity struggled to bring one of her forehooves up to his face.

"You have lost, Marcos! Your Meteors have surrendered or been defeated! Give up!"

Marcos answered in a snarl. "Ay am not yet een the shadow! Geeving up ees how we lost our trrue Motherr!"

The struggle continued, but while the wings barely moved, Ebonshield managed to get her forehoof almost to his neck.

"My blade is soon at your throat -- give up!"

He only growled in reply, but that quickly changed when the rest of their group surrounded the pair. With his limbs tangled up in the Sergeant's own, Marcos soon found Honour's spear levelled down at his head, followed quickly by Artemis’ own lance. Even the two initiates took to hovering in the air, their two training sticks raised high. Then Glamerspear summoned a trio of spears -- real ones, with glittering sharp tips -- even higher up above him, and pointing straight down.

Faced with weapons on all sides, Artemis saw the fight drain right out of him. When he let up with his wings, Ebonshield quickly slammed them aside, pinning them with her hind hooves as she stood menacingly over him. Marcos looked wordlessly up at his sister, who remained furious.

"You were my brother, Marcos! I loved you, as family should!"

He didn’t reply, and she snarled down at him. "Curse you to the Shadows for breaking your oaths to the Great Mother, and curse you twice again more for making me wish to break my own!"

The defeated Meteor only swallowed. "Leabing me alibe weel end nathing."

Gritting his teeth, he raised his neck. "...Do hwhat must be done."

"Never!"

In a flash, Ebonshield slammed her brow down into his muzzle. When she lifted it up again, Artemis saw a trickle of red running down her face.

Marcos spoke, his mouth full of blood as he spat fury and a few loosened teeth up at her. "Do eet! Eet es our way! The only way!"

Ebonshield lifted her right forehoof, and with a sharp jerk, extended the blade attached to it.

‘She's not really going to kill him, is she?’

‘After everypony else has already surrendered or been knocked out?’

‘With barely a scratch on any of us!’

The sergeant shook her head. "No, Marcos; I obey the Edict of Blood -- I will not kill another of the Children, here in the Rookery." She grit her teeth and nodded, slowly.

"...But I will make sure you cannot threaten us again."

Jerking the foreleg forward, Purity Ebonshield jammed her blade into Marcos' left eye, then slashed outwards in a savage attack. Like a lightning bolt against a dark sky, bright red blood sprayed across the sandpit, accompanied by a thundering scream from the victim.

Suggested interlude music: Klaus Doldinger - 'Inferno', from 'Das Boot' [1985]
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5iOuxGT66vQ

Chapter 105

Honour Bound

Corporal Honour Bound’s adrenaline was still up.Ebonshield had just sliced her brother's left eye to shreds, and Honour knew he was screaming, but it was muddled and distant.

All she could hear was her shallow breathing and racing heartbeat.

There was blood spattered across the sand in a jagged line, with more pouring from the gaping wound in Marcos' face, but that didn’t seem to faze her, either. Honour was just holding up a foreleg under her barrel, with her javelin tucked dutifully under that shoulder and its lethal tip pointing at the howling batpony who was frantically trying to staunch the flow of his vital essences.

Lying on the ground, partially wrapped up in his black cloak, hissing and howling, Honour only saw one of the Changelings she skewered during the invasion.

In place of Marcos' screams, she heard its insectoid shrieking. She saw it thrashing in its death throes. And she smelled the green abdominal fluids oozing from its carapace, stinking of urine and stomach bile. They were soaking into the plush Canterlot Palace carpet, turning its royal blue threads a sickly black.

Honour remembered frantically wrestling over whether she should try to administer a coup-de-grace.

But that wasn’t here, and that wasn’t now.

The corporal tried to raise her weapon back out of striking position.

It was a struggle.

She shut her eyes, and took deep breaths. The lifelike memory of the Changeling attack faded, and Honour heard a new voice carry over Marcos' moans.

"¡Ay-ay-ay! What a mess jou all have made in here!"

It was Ignacio, the Balladeer of Ghosts.

Waving his forehoof in front of him as if to dispel the remnants of the smoke-bomb cloud, he appeared between the curtains of his little wooden pulpit. "My lungs burn from the stink of ash and sulphur! And what is all this groaning and moaning?"

Brusquely knocking down his ramp with a swift swipe of his crutch, he hobbled his way down to the gallery floor, then sat on his haunches with his support under one foreleg, leering blindly down at Honour’s group.

Surprisingly, it was the injured Marcos who found the words to answer him first, raising his head up from the sand, both forehooves and a wing covering his horrific wound. "¡Balladeero de Phantasmas! Een the name of the Moon, bless me weeth yourr prrobidence, and rrestore me, that ay may leebe to fayght ourr enemies wance more!"

Ignacio sat up and sniffled, appearing to ponder the words, and Marcos dropped his head back down again, looking up at Ebonshield with a bloody, one-eyed grin. "Hhwhat a pointless theeng you habe done, my seester. You should habe keeled me! Ay weel emerrge from thees injurry unscathed, to challenge jou again."

But Ignacio shook his head.

"No."

Marcos rose up suddenly, enraged. Pausing only briefly to choke up a mouthful of mixed blood, saliva, and snot, he raved at the Balladeer of Ghosts. "Hwhat do you mean, 'no'? Ay am a Starr, and ay habe the rayght to healing of eenjuries frrom combat! Thees ees the law!"

Ignacio shook his head again, swaying the long red fringe-strips on his black mask to and fro. "No, Marcos. I am required to heal those who train in the Grand Hall and those who fight to defend our people..." He grumbled. "... Anything else, I do at my discretion. So, no, I will not restore jour sight at this time -- not until someone orders me to."

Marcos struggled to pull one forehoof off of his wound, in order to shake it angrily at Ignacio. "AY am orderring you to! A seexth of the Meteoros, of the Starrs! And ay am blinded and bleeding to death!"

The crotchety old Balladeer sniffed and tried to straighten up his back. "Jou do not order me, Marcos. And if jour sister had taken my advice, jou would be dead already, instead of merely dying."

With a sigh, he slumped back down again. "But, since she has foolishly spared jour life, I suppose I should at least stop the rest of it from running out."

Then he turned to look behind him at the musicians who even now were still cowering at the edge of the gallery, holding hoofkerchiefs to their muzzles and rubbing soot from their eyes. "¡Oye! Fetch me my bridge so that I can get down there and give him what he deserves!"

In response to his beckoning, a few of the Rock-phase ponies hesitantly stepped forward, wary of any remaining fumes. They made it to the edge in fairly short order, and then hoof-handled down Ignacio's plank to span the gap across the trench, between the raised gallery and the lower sand-pit floor. With a huff, the old batpony mage shuffled his way down the bridge, leaning on his crutch. The quaternion parted down the middle to allow him room to get to Marcos, whose breathing had grown shallow and pained.

Honour still hadn't quite figured out how Ignacio seemed to be able to 'see' so much when he wasn’t just blind, but wearing a mask as well. The Balladeer of Ghosts managed to come to a stop right in front of Ebonshield's brother, then he cleared his throat and began to mumble out a tune. It didn’t sound as gentle as the one he sang to the sergeant when she was injured last time down here, nor was it as strong as the one he used to heal the batpony who lost the sparring match at a distance, earlier. Nonetheless, Marcos relaxed at the sound of it, and within a few moments, the bleeding appeared to have stopped. The wound still looked appallingly bad, though.

Just as the victim of Ebonshield's mutilating attack closed his eyes and dozed to sleep, numb to any remaining pain, Ignacio suddenly swatted his forehead with the padded butt of his crutch. Marcos started up, fully awake and consumed by a mixture of shock and fury.

Ignacio just pointed the tip of his cane at the now-healed batpony. "That was for interrupting my nap with jour nonsense." Then he swiftly swung the device to one side, barely missing Ebonshield's chest as she dodged backwards. "And that was for disregarding my advice, Pureza! Do not come crying to me when Carmen asks me to heal his eye fully, and then when he returns to challenge you again!"

But the sergeant only scoffed. "If this happens as you suggest, then at least we will know where she stands."

Ignacio grumbled dismissively, and while Honour pondered her words -- ‘what did she mean by knowing where Carmen stood? Stood on what?’ -- they were interrupted by another voice, this time coming from the entrance to the Grand Hall, and without any discernible batpony accent.

"By all of the Great Mother's glittering stars, what has happened here?!"

Standing at the top of the main staircase was a young-looking, blueish-grey batpony mare dressed in flowing white robes, flanked by two more ponies dressed like the Reverend Mother Superior's attendants on their last visit, completely covered in white robes with tall, pointed white hoods. This new batpony sounded almost like she was from Canterlot, but her garb marked her for one of the priestly 'Lunar-phase' caste.

Ebonshield hissed as she lowered her muzzle. "Bow now, everypony but the Great Lord!"

Doing as she said, Honour bowed her head, and so did Sparkshower and Glamerspear -- the latter with a small grumble. Even Marcos struggled to turn over, coming to a rest on his belly with his head down low. Ignacio, the corporal noted, once again did nothing. Anonymous also remained standing, but he looked uncomfortable doing so.

The Lunar-phase batpony priestess began to make her way down the stairs, gracefully clip-clopping down them, still flanked by her hooded attendants. She must have flown in for none of them to have heard her coming down the hall or entering the room in the first place.

With an ashen face, she surveyed the Grand Hall. "Forgive my outburst, but this is the scene of a massacre! I see knocked-out Meteors up in the gallery and down in the trenches, and their Sixth lying wounded in the sandpit, itself covered in blood!" Pausing halfway down the steps, she looked over at Honour’s group. "Stellar Seven, what is the meaning of all this?"

The sergeant raised her head up to speak. "Reverend Sister, Marcos the Meteoric Sixth and his battle-siblings attacked our group, threatening us all with death if I did not agree to be executed by them. In the course of the battle which ensued, they were defeated. There are also two more to be found, I suspect, in the chambers of the Stellar initiates."

As Ebonshield cocked a proud eyebrow at her young students, the batpony priestess’ amber eyes went wide, and her jaw hung open. "You defeated all these in a direct confrontation? At more than two-to-one odds?" Gaping, she shook her head. "...This fight will long be remembered in the annals of your Temple, Stellar Seven. I'm sure that your Master Draxon would have saluted you, if he were still with us."

‘Wait -- 'still with us'?’

‘He's dead?’

‘Who's above Ebonshield in the batpony assassin's guild, then?’

A question for later, she supposed.

The Reverend Sister composed herself and turned to one of her white-hooded escorts. "Brother Louis, you must go immediately and summon a platoon of Righteous Hatcheteers!"

The hooded colt nodded and quickly hustled back up the stairs. Once he reached the entryway, Honour could hear him start to repeatedly call out something in the batpony tongue.

"¡Hachadores! ¡Hachadores al Gran Salón!"

Even with the little she’d heard of the batpony tongue, it wasn’t hard to figure out what he was saying.

Meanwhile, the Reverend Sister flapped her wings and fluttered delicately over to the sandpit, accompanied by her remaining escort. "This is appalling! O Honorable Balladeer of Ghosts, I trust you have already attended to the medical needs of everyone present?"

Ignacio glanced blindly around the hall. "Only Marcos received any open wounds. I have closed the injuries, but I have not restored him completely."

Sniffing the air, he turned and pointed with his crutch at the Meteor that the Royal Engineer knocked out with Honour’s help. "That one over there will need to rest for some time, I think. And jou must support his neck and be gentle in hauling him away, or else his situation will become dire."

Well, their VIP had administered a pretty forceful pair of blows to the back of the batpony's thin leather helmet. Even with armor, that was a potentially lethal strike zone for ordinary ponies; no surprise it was so for these ones as well. But, again, how did a blind batpony sorcerer know that just from apparently sniffing the air?

‘Maybe I should take a look at Glamerspear's book myself; see if I can figure anything out.’

The Reverend Sister nodded to Ignacio. "Thank you, O Balladeer. Great Mother bless you for your diligence."

The Reverend Sister next bowed towards the Royal Engineer, and the corporal noticed that the priestess’ cloak was more open at the front than the one worn by Sergeant Ebonshield. In-between the parted fabric and underneath her neck, Honour saw what looked like a considerable amount of blue-grey tuft.

"O Great Lord of Equestria, on behalf of the entire Rookery and all of the Great Mother's Children, I apologize for this intrusion into the safety of Your Lordship's person. I trust that Your Lordship is not seriously harmed?"

Anonymous hesitantly pulled his helmet up off his face, resting it on his brow. "Uhm, thank you, Reverend Sister. And yes, I'm fine now."

She lifted her head again, and her ample tuft was now on full display. For being a fairly slender mare, she could give Sparkshower a run for her bits with that voluptuous frontal plumage. It put her soothing vocal tone in a different, grating, light.

"It overjoys me to hear Your Lordship say that."

The way she emphasized 'overjoys' made Honour wonder about just what Carmen meant in sending, as her representative, this twenty-something, nubile young mare with a prominent tuft and a honeyed tongue.

Sighing, the Reverend Sister looked around once more at the scene of carnage. "Please, all of you, be at ease in the warmth of the Great Mother."

Ebonshield nodded to Honour, and that was her cue to exit her bow. The corporal’s neck was almost starting to hurt from having to look up like that.

"Great Lord, I have been sent here by the Reverend Mother Superior. Her Reverence has been in conference all evening, but when it became known that you had joined us tonight in the Rookery to practice your martial arts, I was sent here to extend an invitation for you to join Her Reverence for refreshments at your discretion, when your exercise and any other business was complete."

Glancing over at Marcos, who eyed her warily back with his mangled face, she sighed. "Now I wish only that the Reverend Mother's meetings had ended earlier, or that I had come here at a less leisurely pace. Great Mother willing, I might have prevented this confrontation."

There was the sound of hoofsteps from up by the entrance, and more black-cloaked batponies began to filter in, stepping down the stairs and fanning out around the gallery with purpose.

‘Black cloaks for warriors, and white cloaks for priests; pretty universally boring outfits.’

Only the 'Rock-phase' tradesponies had any kind of style, along with the 'Dust-phase' laborers to a lesser degree. Honour wondered what the 'Shadow-phase' outcasts had to wear...

The Reverend Sister pointed a forehoof out from underneath her cloak at Ebonshield's brother as she called out to the soldiers behind her. "Hatcheteers, place the Meteoric Sixth and all of these other Meteors under arrest. The charges are breaching the Edict of Blood, violating the Treaty of Canterlot, and disturbing the Mother's Peace."

As half a dozen Hatcheteers gaped at his injury while surrounding him, Marcos didn’t waste the moment. "Ay was only carrrying out the hweell of the Motherr!"

Most of the Hatcheteers leveled their spears down at him, while two of their number pulled out ropes and moved in to bind his wings flat against his flanks.

The Lunar-phase Reverend Sister stepped over to the defeated warrior. "That's enough, Marcos. Be silent. The Reverend Mother Superior will investigate this incident and decide your fate."

She turned and addressed the Hatcheteers. "Have caution and bring a stretcher for the one over there, but take the rest to the Catacombs immediately! The training of the Royal Engineer of Equestria must not be disturbed any further!"

She spoke with a surprisingly firm authority, for being so young. The sense of priestly superiority must be drilled into the Lunars from an early age.

In a matter of minutes, what passed for the ponice among the batponies had the whole scene cleared; those who weren't knocked out had their wings bound and were escorted out, while the unconscious ones were hog-tied and hauled away on Hatcheteer backs. The one their VIP knocked out was carefully strapped into a stretcher strung between two officers. In the interim, the white-hooded second Brother who was sent off to fetch the cops returned to sit at the Reverend Sister's side.

Appearing relieved when the Stars were all gone, the young mare bowed once more to Honour’s VIP. "I assure Your Lordship that Marcos will be punished severely for his transgressions. Please, allow me to interrupt these exercises no further."

Rolling her shoulders to open the front of her cloak wide, she stuck out her tuft even further. "Would Your Lordship be inconvenienced if we were to retire to the gallery and watch the proceedings?"

‘Oh, come on!’

So far, it was pretty obvious that the number-one threat to the Royal Engineer's life was these batponies themselves. Why in Equestria would he want one of them spying on him while he trained? And the Reverend Mother Superior couldn’t possibly expect to influence their VIP just by sending a silly young mare to flash some tuft at him. He wasn’t that kind of colt; he had his head screwed on straight.

Anonymous shrugged. "You can stay and watch, if you'd like."

‘What!?’

Before Honour could say anything, he continued. "...But to be honest, I think we're done here. We were just wrapping up when Marcos and his crew interrupted us."

The Reverend Sister beamed a smile that might've seemed genuine when she first walked in. Now it just looked fake to Corporal Bound.

"Oh, magnificent! Did Your Lordship have any other business to conduct first? Otherwise, I would be happy to escort you to meet the Reverend Mother Superior."

The Royal Engineer looked around. "No other business tonight, no. Since we're down here, I thought about dropping by to say 'hello' to Mister Esautomatico at the Guild of Blacksmiths, but that's just a brief visit we can do on the way out."

Sergeant Ebonshield nodded. "Yes, of course, Great Lord. I remembered to bring a small gift to represent your continued friendship."

The Reverend Sister continued her smile. "That sounds excellent. In the Lunar Sanctuary, we can ensure that Your Lordship is suitably freshened after these exercises as well, so as to meet the Honorable Guildmaster with due decorum. Are you ready to leave? Shall I conduct you there presently?"

Anonymous pointed up at his equipment in the gallery. "Let me collect my things first, and then we'll all follow you out. How about everybody else? The fight was pretty intense, there's no need to rush out if someone needs a moment."

He looked around to get confirmation from the four of them, but the sergeant looked warily over at the Reverend Sister. Before Honour could ask Ebonshield what's wrong, the Lunar spoke out, bowing her head.

"Oh, no, Great Lord. I apologize that this was not made clear earlier, but the Lunar Sanctuary is a hallowed place, unfit for the hooves of unclean ponies. Your retinue will have to await you outside, or elsewhere within the Rookery."

‘Seriously?’

The Reverend Sister rose up with an apologetic look on her face, but that sure wasn't much of an apology. Especially since there was no way the Royal Engineer would have known about the rule beforehoof. Anonymous stiffened, and nopony else seemed to want to reply, so Honour decided to take the lead.

"Reverend Sister?"

The Lunar turned to her, wearing a pleasant smile. "Yes, Corporal Bound?"

‘So she even knows our names.’ This was definitely not some 'last-minute' invitation. Carmen must have been planning to do this the next time they all came down here again.

Intending to one-up the Reverend Sister’s formal tongue, she stuck to Canterlot Palace Military Office VIP Section regulation verbiage as well. "You realize that the Royal Engineer was just attacked inside the Rookery? Surely you understand that much as His Lordship wishes to accept the Reverend Mother Superior's invitation, His Lordship might also be reluctant to give up his escort so soon after such an assault?"

The Reverend Sister licked her lips, then extended her wings to indicate her comrades. "Of course, Corporal. That is why we are here, present as escorts and guides. I assure you that no proper Child of the League would dare attack a true Lunar such as myself or my Brothers. You witnessed how Marcos put up no further resistance to my commands? Quarrelsome stars are not admitted within Lunar Sanctuaries, and a fight on hallowed grounds is absolutely unthinkable."

Ebonshield cleared her throat piped up with a sly smile. "However, such a thing is not unheard of."

There was a momentary flash of outrage in the Reverend Sister's eyes, and Honour was left wondering just what the Sergeant meant by that. It almost sounded like she'd had a hoof in whatever she was referencing.

Still, the diplomatic priestess recovered quickly. "The Stellar Seven is correct. Despite the ban and the severe consequences for doing so, there have, in our recorded history, been occasions where the peace of a Sanctuary was violated. I must stress that such occurrences are exceedingly rare, the last one being years ago."

Honour glanced up at the Royal Engineer, and he didn’t look very enthusiastic.

The Reverend Sister must have picked up on it, too, because she changed tack. "However, given the circumstances and the fact that three of Your Lordship's retinue are merely honorary Stars, perhaps some accommodation could be made. I'm sure the Reverend Mother Superior would understand completely your desire to keep one of your bodyguards with you at all times in the Rookery, particularly in light of this deplorable incident."

‘Damn straight he does.’

Anonymous nodded. "That's very accommodating of you, Reverend Sister. Corporal, why don't you accompany me, then?"

‘Oh, buck.’

‘Well, this is what I wanted, isn't it?’

‘The Royal Engineer fulfills his diplomatic objectives while still being escorted?’

Still, Honour thought, being honest, Glamerspear and Sparkshower were both more capable combatants than she was. Feeling a bit hoist by her own petard, she nonetheless nodded.

"Yes, sir."

The Royal Engineer turned to the rest of the quaternion. "I suppose the three of you should wait here for us to return? Unless there's some other business you wanted to conduct yourself, Sergeant?"

Ebonshield nodded. "I should like to have a few moments in private to deal with my initiates." She glanced over at Carto and Águila. "I believe with this excellent display of skill and resourcefulness, they have proven that they are initiates no longer."

If they looked happy before, when she slyly called them out in front of the Reverend Sister, now the foal and filly were absolutely beaming with pride.

Ignacio piped up next. "And if jou are going to crawl alone with jour initiates into that maze of tunnels in order to conduct jour strange Stellar ceremonies..." He waved one forehoof with what seemed like disgust, then licked his lips. "...Ehhhh... This means that the unicornio will remain here, and I am eager to hear if she has come up with an answer to the question I posed her earlier." The Balladeer grinned and, perhaps sensing Glamerspear's hesitation, even chuckled.

That just left Sparkshower without something to do. Honour nodded in her direction. "Specialist, stick with Glamerspear and keep out of trouble while we're in conference with the Reverend Mother Superior. Stay here in the Grand Hall, understand?"

Both of them jumped to attention in reply.

"Yes, Corporal!"
"Yes, Corporal!"

It was good that they remembered to show some professionalism in front of the batpony priestess. Despite having failed to take The Watchtower, effectively losing to the Royal Guard, Honour got the sense that most of these 'Children of the League of Stars' really looked down their muzzles at them.

'Prisoners of the Sun.'

'Surface-born.'

And the way they said 'Equestrians' like they were some kind of scum. It didn't sit right with her.

And here was their effective leader, the chief priestess of the religious caste, sending a plumed floozy to try to recruit the Royal Engineer as an ally. Maybe Anonymous choosing Honour as escort wasn't such a bad idea after all. If physical attacks really were rare inside the Lunar Sanctuary, then she was probably the best choice to defend her VIP's honor and integrity against what was sure to be a relentless sales pitch from Sergeant Ebonshield's mother, Carmen.

She looked up at Anonymous. "Ready when you are, sir."

He gave the corporal a small smile, then turned to the Reverend Sister while still wearing it. Honour got the sense that the one she received was genuine, while it was just a front he put on for the Lunar.

"Lead the way, Reverend Sister."

She bowed, and her escorts turned first to make the way clear.

‘Time to see what these batpony Lunars are all about.’

Chapter 106

Lily Glamerspear

‘A blind colt is staring at me.’

‘I don't know how he’s doing it, but he just is.’

And even though his mouth was closed, Specialist Lily Glamerspear felt like he was grinning at her, too. Ignacio Blazon, the old, hunched-over batpony Balladeer of Ghosts, sat idly on his haunches in the sandpit with her, leaning on his crutch.

Sergeant Ebonshield had already left for her chambers, accompanied by the two initiates that probably saved all of their plots with that daring little infiltration and smoke-bomb surprise attack. To say nothing of their unseen, two-versus-two against the 'Swarming Meteor' goons sent to kill them in their beds.

Corporal Bound and the Royal Engineer had also gone off with that 'Reverend Sister' who strode in there with her tuft sticking out like a bucking fresh-picked bouquet. Heh, maybe those 'refreshments' the Reverend Mother Carmen was supposedly offering would involve their VIP getting himself a little poon-tang with that particular young little piece of flank; she did try to serve him up one of her Lunar mares last time, and Celestia knows Anonymous deserved some R-and-R, the big hunk of colt-meat.

Despite being busy shooting, Lily saw the way he KO'd that Meteor by diving in and walloping the batpony in the back of the head. Even without that slick move, though, she respected her VIP's decision to stand and fight with the rest of them to start with.

Still coming off her gunner's high, Lily took a deep breath and looked anxiously over at the crippled old batpony next to her. It was just her, him, and Sparkshower left in the Grand Hall of Stars, with the musicians up in the gallery having also headed out for what passed for a midnight 'lunch' under the mountain.

Lily shot her fillyfriend a glance and turned towards the batpony who had been blindly eyeing her up. "So, uh, Mister Blazon..."

He tilted his head slightly, and she saw his long-haired ears twitch subtly. But he didn’t say anything; he just waited for Lily to continue.

"... About your abilities to shape and control sand-creatures..."

Ignacio sniffed the air, but still remained silent.

Lily took another breath. "...I, uhm, hit the books, spoke to an expert, thought long and hard about the problem..."

It was more than a bit of a stretch to call Ebonshield's collegiate foal-toy an 'expert,' but at least he had some formal training in abstract magical thinking -- unlike the heavily practical learning Lily had done. Still, she really did hammer away at De Magia Unicornis, the definitive magical theory-book, looking for a solution.

Clearing her throat, she delivered the disappointing conclusion. "... And I'm afraid I'm still coming up empty."

Shrugging, she tilted her head slightly, lowering her ears. "...Sorry. D'you think you could maybe give me another clue, or maybe another demo?"

After a moment, Ignacio snorted. "Hunh. That is all? The great unicornio, who laughs while she demolishes an entire swarm of the Meteors, whose horn buzzes so loudly even when idle that she wakes me from sleep -- she investigates my magic and yet she finds nothing?"

Lily sighed. "No, sorry. This kind of investigation isn't really my strong suit." She shrugged once more. "I'm a guardspony. I shoot stuff, I shield against attacks, I can even do a little healing and a few other useful things. But I'm not exactly trained in deep magical theory."

"Jou have nothing at all? No proposals, no theories?

Lily shook her head, dejected. "Nothing that fits what I saw you do."

Ignacio chuckled. "¿Oh? Let us double-check this, eh? What do jou think jou saw me do?"

At that, the unicorn frowned.

‘What's he on about now?’

‘I already talked about what he did last time, didn't I?’

Shuffling her hooves slightly, Lily cleared her throat, glancing at the sandpit around them. "You formed the sand up into shapes of ponies, and a dragon, minotaur, and even a human who you'd never met before that morning -- and then you made the shapes fight with Sergeant Ebonshield, just as they would have if they were the real deal."

Ignacio grinned, revealing crooked teeth. "Ah... I did this? All of this? Are jou certain?"

Now it was Lily’s turn to chuckle awkwardly. "Uh, yeah. I'm not blind..."

Realizing she may have misstepped, she stopped herself. But there was no reaction, so she went on. "... Er, I mean, we were right here. We saw it all, right, Sparkshower?"

There was an armored scraping as the pegasus nodded her head, but Ignacio just muttered dismissively, turning to step away from Lily.

"No, no, jou miss the point, unicornio..."

Grasping his crutch with the crippled foreleg it supported, he tapped it in the sand, then batted it left and right, splashing the yellow specs to and fro.

"...How do jou know that I have made all these things?"

Lily shrugged, and the armored tassels on her shoulders clinked together. "I mean, if not you -- then who else?"

Ignacio turned again to face her, and he was wearing a grin once more. "Ah... There she is, the question."

Placing his crutch back properly under his shoulder, he hobbled back towards Glamerspear. "... But tell me first of jour studies. Jou say jou are a simple soldier. Among the Children, even the 'simple' Stars are well-taught. Tell me of these books jou consulted."

Lily gulped. She hated having to show her work.

"It was just one book, I guess -- but it's a really important book, you understand? It's the definitive treatment of magic: a classical text that has yet to be surpassed in the field of magical theory. And it's required reading at any magical university. Even Princess Celestia herself was quoted as saying it's the first and last word when it comes to all things magical."

He seemed to perk up at her description. "Ah, jes? And what is he called, this book of the wonders?"

Lily straightened her back and head, out of respect for the ancient tome. "'De Magia Unicornis,' by Titus Wealthwisher. In Ancient Equestrian, the title means-"

Ignacio cut in before she could translate. "'On the magic of unicorns,' jes..."

Nodding his head, he explained as she sat there, jaw open -- and Lily could hear Sparkshower's visor scrape as she lifted it in shock as well.

"...We Children also remember the ancient tongue. And our language today is closer to her than jou may think; closer, perhaps, than jours..."

With a chuckle, he shifted his weight on the crutch. "But I think that a book about the magic of unicorns is not going to get jou very far in understanding a magic which was not done by one of them, no? Ehehehe, after all, I am no unicorn... So tell me about this 'expert' jou spoke with -- who were they?"

‘Ugh. What is this, an inquisition?’

Lily swallowed again. She was not going to tell him exactly who she consulted about this.

"He was... just a friend. But he's a unicorn in college, the Schola Magia -- that's Equestria's premier arcane university, up in Canterlot. He's had more training in magical theory than I have, ya know? Even though I have more practical experience. We talked about the problem a bit, workshopped the possibilities."

Ignacio tilted his head back, lifting his tattered, tufted ears. "Ah, and what possibilities were these?"

Lily shifted on her hooves again, shrugging. "We talked about them being some kind of golems, but those usually need time to prepare, whereas we'd barely been in the room for ten minutes before you did it. And you have to be able to examine the subjects being reproduced, but there's nopony like Anonymous in all of Equestria, plus you're blind, and you were asleep when we walked in. And you have to get a piece of the target for the golem to be authentic -- but you didn't have the chance to get any part of Anonymous, either."

After listening attentively, he nodded. "This was the only theorem?"

Lily tilted her head sideways. Remembering the blathering of Ebonshield's barely-post-pubescent dweeb gave her a headache, but she managed it.

"No, but the others made even less sense. One of them was that you had seen stuff like that before, and were therefore able to recreate it. Another was that it was enough to simulate, like, the magical 'reflections' of the guardsponies and our fighting VIP. But both of them needed you to have been able to see..."

A thought occurred to her, and she craned her neck forward, eyes narrowing and ears perking up. "...Which kinda brings up an interesting other question, Mister Ignacio. For a blind guy, you sure seem to be able to 'see' a whole lot."

The batpony cocked an ear. "Oh? How so?"

Lily looked slyly over at Sparkshower, who seemed to be just as focused as she was. "Like how you managed to get down here so fast, without really worrying about tripping or falling. You sure hustled your way over to Marcos pretty quickly, too..."

Lily’s wingmare chimed in as well. "That's right! And you also looked right at one of the injured batponies when you pronounced that his neck needed special attention."

The Balladeer of Ghosts nodded his head. "Jes, jes. These things I have done..."

The nod turned into a shake. "... I am blind to the world of light and darkness as jou know him. I have been blind in this way since birth; all Eclipse are so..."

Inhaling, he raised himself up a bit. "... But... I do have a sense which allows me to perceive these things, and others."

‘Jackpot!’

‘I knew there had to be some trick up this old batpony's sleeves!’

Not that he wore a shirt or anything, but still.

Grinning at Sparkshower, Lily relaxed a bit, glad to receive an explanation for some of this mystery. "And what 'sense' is that?"

Ignacio sighed. "This is a sense related to the magic, but one which is difficult to explain. I am not sure if jou can understand."

Lily frowned. "I may not be a college-educated pony, Mister Ignacio, but I've got my head on straight, and so does my fellow Specialist Sparkshower. Try us."

Chuckling, he licked his lips, and she saw him smile. "I do not mean to insult jour intelligence, unicornio, or jour abilities, or those of jour friend the pegaso. But jou have already demonstrated to me that jou do not have this sense. Imagine if jou were to explain to me the experience of 'sight,' knowing that I have never seen anything before."

Lily’s brow furrowed further as he continued. "I have been told before, jou know. That there is light and dark, and there are colors in-between. That the moon is grey, that grass is green, that blood is red, that the mirror shows a copy of whatever is in front of him."

He shrugged. "...But these descriptions are meaningless to me. Could jou explain to me what 'red' looks like? Eh?"

Lily was left a bit speechless, and Sparkshower took a step forward. "Well, red is the color of the setting sun, and of beets and tomatoes, strawberries and cherries..."

Ignacio turned towards the sound of her voice. "But I have never seen such things. I have never seen anything at all. How can jou describe what this is for something to look red, to somepony who has never seen? Jou do not need to understand that a thing is a beet or a tomato to know that this is red, no? They have an intrinsic appearance in jour mind, does they not? That is the nature of the sense, not a catalog of the properties of the objects."

As Artemis was also unable to find a reply, he slouched down and continued. "This is why I lie a little when I say that jour horn 'buzzes,' unicornio. There is not a 'buzz' like a sound in my ears; this is something I perceive with the other-sense. For the sake of communicating this to jou, I describe the sense as a sound, as the magic grabs my attention as a sound would -- and that, at least, is a sense which we share in common."

It took Lily a moment to parse what he was saying, but she thought she had the gist of it. Like trying to explain colors to a blind pony, he was saying it was going to be tough to explain to her this sense of his, since she didn’t have it. Except she wasn’t quite as blind as him in this regard, since as a unicorn she did have an affinity for raw magic. And there were legends of great unicorns who could shut their eyes and nonetheless see the world around them...

"I see what you mean. But why don't we continue with the 'sound' analogy, then? What is it exactly that you can 'hear'?"

Ignacio tilted his head back and took a deep breath. "This is not so much what I can 'sense,' as what can be recognized."

The tassels on his mask jiggled to and fro as he shook his head. "This sense... is like being in a very loud and noisy room, and trying to pick out the soft fluttering of wings from far away. There is much which I can 'hear,' but the problem is in recognizing the 'sounds.' This is what is difficult -- but great disturbances are easier to find than others, as when jou draw magic through jour horn."

Lily narrowed her eyes. "But what is it exactly you're 'hearing'? Spells being cast?"

Ignacio cocked his head sideways and wiggled the whiskers on his nose.

"...The magic, I think..."

‘'The' magic?'

He turned his head slowly to and fro.

"...Magic is everywhere, jou know. In the stones, in the sand, in the air, in each of us..."

Then he looked up towards the ceiling. "... Especially on this world. And particularly on the surface, during the day -- things are much quieter at night, and quieter still on the moon."

Mana -- the raw stuff of magic, the source of a unicorn's spellcasting powers, and a force that empowered earth ponies and pegasi in their own ways as well -- was generally thought to be spread just about everywhere, in fairly even quantities. It seemed to just be a natural part of the universe, an ethereal field that pervaded reality. There were some places where it was maybe a little stronger, and some places where it was a little weaker -- the latter, often the result of magic spells gone wrong.

But underground versus above-ground?

Daytime and nightime?

Lily had never heard of that being a difference.

And certainly nopony had ever ventured to sound out the force of magic on the moon -- besides Nightmare Moon, of course, or her batpony 'children,' but they weren't exactly an expedition from the Schola. What if mana wasn't so evenly spread around as everypony thought?

As Lily pondered that question, Ignacio smirked. "Have I lost jou already, unicornio? Shall we change the subject?"

Lily shook her head, brow still furrowed in thought. "No, I think I'm getting you. So how does it work -- what do you 'hear' when we're in the room?"

He shrugged. "This I cannot describe. But jou have been here twice now, and the impressions, they start to become familiar. Not as familiar as the walls, the floor, and the ceiling of this Grand Hall, but I can recognize jou more easily."

Straightening up, he called towards the ceiling in a proud voice. "I am a Balladeer of Ghosts; I watch over the Grand Hall of Stars, here in the Rookery of Canterlot today, and before this in the Great House Rima de Serenidad. To call forth such enemies as jou witnessed last time, and to heal the Stars as jou have seen twice now, these are my duties, and I know them well."

Sparkshower piped in again. "And with this magic-sense, when you identify something, you can tell how far away it is? And what direction?"

Ignacio nodded. "Sí, jes, I can. And often I turn to face the direction, for the sake of jou who can see me. This does not change anything for me, however."

He grumbled, tilting his head. "Hmmm... On jour first visit, I knew there were three of jou Equestrianos, but I did not know which was the unicorn, which the pegasus, and which the earth pony. Not until the horn was used to cast magic, was one of them made clear."

Lifting a forehoof, he scratched at his chin. "...Jour 'VIP,' however -- he is difficult to perceive. I did not notice him completely at first. Even tonight, he is faint and distant; he blends into the background more readily. I cannot pick him out from the cacophony; not quite yet."

‘So the Balladeer is blind to Anonymous?’

‘Interesting.’

And that revelation also completely demolished all of that college-colt's theories.

"I guess that explains why you can move around the arena here so confidently. But if you have trouble recognizing the Royal Engineer even now, that sure blows away all three theories we had about how you managed to create a sandy replica of him last time."

The batpony chuckled. "Perhaps. But I have given jou a hint already, now, unicornio -- the suggestion that I was not the one to make these things."

‘Not this again!’

"Yeah, okay, but I don't see anypony else around here who can do magic stuff. You said it was just your Eclipse Phase who could do any kind of spellcraft among the 'Children.' And neither the sand nor the sandpit seemed to be contributing to the spell in any way, either."

Lily concluded with a dismissive snort. "So I gotta ask, again: if you didn't do it, then who did? 'Cause I'm not seeing any other options."

Ignacio remained silent.

‘Ah, horsefeathers.’

‘I won't be getting any more out of this colt tonight, will I?’ Or maybe not ever, given how cagey he was about this 'mana-sense' of his.

To Lily’s surprise, the Balladeer of Ghosts opened his mouth.

"Tell me, both of jou, unicornio and pegaso -- What do jou know of our Great Mother?"

Lily exchanged confused glances with Sparkshower before answering. "Who exactly do you mean? Princess Luna? Or Nightmare Moon?"

He chuckled. "Ehehe. What is the difference? Is there a difference?"

Artemis answered glumly. "Ebonshield's brother Marcos sure seemed to think so."

Ignacio chuckled again, but shook his head. "Nightmare Moon wished to lead her Children in conquering the world, and Princess Luna does not. This is the only difference which matters to Marcos."

He grinned, exposing his crooked teeth once more. "But I am asking if there is a difference deeper than this -- deeper than what might merely be a decision or a choice."

Sparkshower looked at Lily and shrugged her shoulders.

The unicorn had to dig real deep in the back of her head to think of anything relevant. That was the trouble with Princess Luna -- the concern many ponies had in the immediate aftermath of her dropping the mantle of 'Nightmare Moon,' and the concern many ponies still had even two years later. Most Equestrian ponies were kinda like Marcos; they only saw what she tried to do before, and what she wasn't trying to do now. And they worried it was just a simple 'switch --' a choice she'd made that she might just as easily un-make.

It didn't help that few details had come out of her duel in Ponyville with the wielders of the 'Elements of Harmony.' All that was certain was that six ponies in the village had each individually made use of the magical artifacts that Princess Celestia had previously harnessed all on Her own. And one of those ponies was a personal protégé of Her Majesty, from her small private tutoring school for unicorns.

Then a while later that protégé had been knighted or something? Ennobled somehow? Lily didn't really pay attention to the goings-on of nobleponies outside of Canterlot, especially if they weren't rich, and doubly so if they weren't colts.

But when it came to rumors about the fight, hoo foal, did everypony go wild over that.

Even the newspapers and magazines got in on the action. Lily remembered reading one article that said after getting blasted by the Elements a first time, Nightmare Moon transformed into a strange mutant creature, with six smaller wings for legs, and a great big black wing in place of her midnight horn. Published in a pro-unicorn and somewhat anti-pegasus rag, the story went on to say that the Elements had to down that second form in order to defeat her once and for all.

Another tale claimed that before going down for the count, she grew to a giant five hundred hooves high, a titan that burst through the ancient Castle of the Twin Sisters and towered over the forest surrounding it. The writers outdid themselves describing that hypothetical battle against a shadowy colossus.

Yet another big news magazine ran as a cover story the idea that the first shot blew Nightmare Moon's black horn straight off and sent her hurtling to the ground, but then the detached horn itself began to pulsate with a twisted red energy that brought the crumbling ruins of the Castle back to life, sucking the energy from the surrounding forest and animating the dead as twisted masses of flesh and bone to assail the Elements. That one was dead serious, too, and the magazine's editors allowed ample space for the horrifying illustrations that accompanied it.

But in the absence of any details, Lily had to imagine that those more outlandish theories were probably wrong. If she really did grow five hundred hooves tall, for example, she ought to have been visible back in Ponyville. Heck, they might've even seen her from the Watchtower -- though Lily supposed they would have been too busy fighting off the batponies at the time. The multi-wing metamorphosis idea was just a racist fantasy, and the 'independent horn' idea, while engrossing, was just body-horror fiction. There were tons of other, smaller, lesser rumors, but one of them had stuck out to her at the time.

Witnesses in Ponyville described Nightmare Moon as looking different from Princess Luna, with a black coat instead of blue, and slit, batpony-style eyes instead of normal ones. They even said the same thing when Her Majesty 'pretended' to show up as Nightmare Moon a year later, too. But why would the real deal have gone to the trouble of putting on a glamor like that if she was still the same inside?

Lily licked her lips. "I've heard that... That when Nightmare Moon was defeated by the wielders of the Elements of Harmony, they blasted her with rays of overwhelming magic, and that they didn't just figuratively knock the fight out of her..."

Lifting her head, she looked at the Balladeer of Ghosts. "...But that they literally knocked something out of her as well. Something dark, and shadowy. Something that was inside of her before, and isn't now. And that's why she's different, in attitude and in appearance."

Ignacio Blazon sat quietly, then inhaled deeply through his nose.

Licking his lips, he started to nod his head. "Jes... Jes..."

All of a sudden, he picked himself up and started to hobble forwards, passing right between Glamerspear and Sparkshower.

"...Come with me, both of jou. There is a place especial for such discussions. A place where the noise is quiet."

Artemis shot Lily a concerned look. "But... Corporal Bound told us to stay right here until she got back."

The batpony immediately waved a forehoof in dismissal. "The Corporal and jour VIP will be occupied for some time by the Reverend Mother Superior, who loves the sound of her own voice. We will return before them, I promise jou. And before Pureza is finished with her initiates, as well."

Sparkshower didn’t seem convinced. "But... We're not supposed to leave, in case we get into any trouble in the Rookery."

Ignacio stopped, and Lily scowled at the junior Specialist.

"Come on, Sparks. We're going to be with the only mage here under the Rookery. And after we just swatted all those 'Swarming Meteors,' nopony's going to want to mess with us, right?"

With a confidence stemming more from her eagerness to find out what was going on than any true feeling of safety, she made a final pronouncement.

"We'll be safe. A batpony sorcerer, one of Equestria's finest gunners, and an armored pegasus with a rocket-powered lance that can apparently ping-pong off of walls."

She hadn't missed that little surprising incident either. And anyways what was going on with Sparkshower getting cold hooves all of a sudden? With how excited and eager she'd been to try out that 'Bradamante' Lance the other day, one would think she'd be willing to go on a little excursion with a harmless old batpony!

"With our firepower, we'll be safe from anything; probably safer than Anonymous and Honour are with the Reverend Mother, I'd bet. And you heard the Balladeer: we won't take too long."

Reluctantly, Artemis nodded. "O-Okay."

Standing at the edge of the ring, Ignacio turned his head to face Lily. "Build me some of jour stairs magical, unicornio, before I fall off the edge of this arena."

Then he grinned. "And then, when we reach our destination, perhaps I can open jour mind to these sounds which only the Eclipse can hear."

Suggested interlude music: Eagles - 'Journey of the Sorcerer' [1975]
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wZdZKolMIl0

Chapter 107

Honour Bound

This wasn’t at all what Corporal Honour Bound was expecting.

The 'Grand Hall of Stars' training arena was, aside from a few worn-looking cushions and faded rugs in the viewing gallery, fairly modest. Its walls were simply bare rock, as was the floor. While the pulpit of the Balladeer of Ghosts was crafted with some carved ornamentation, aside from that, the only real 'decoration' was the painted night-scape on the ceiling dome. Even that basic drawing was striking more for how it had apparently been flawlessly repaired after Ebonshield's duel with the conjured sand apparitions than its artistic merits.

Elsewhere in the Rookery, things were similar. The batpony marketplace, which was colorful and vibrant when busy, still felt pretty ordinary. Buildings were made of common materials: wood, fabric, and paint. Eye-catching and bright, but functional. Honour expected that this 'Lunar Sanctuary' she was heading to would be more of the same.

But it absolutely wasn't.

Suggested background music: Jami Sieber - 'Maenam'
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g6Bf8xKZqh4

Honour had just been following behind the 'Reverend Sister' in another one of the Rookery's ordinary, rough-hewn, round-walled corridors, and all of a sudden the drab grey rock gave way to a colorful tile mosaic. Then, rounding a corner alongside the Royal Engineer, it opened up into a long, opulently decorated, rectangular foyer that wouldn't be out of place in any noblepony's Canterlot mansion.

No longer rounded, the walls were straight and flat, and covered with a white plaster or thick paint that made them smooth and even. And innumerable tiny tiles covered the walls, arranged in tiers from the smooth marble floor up to the arched ceiling. First, there was a thick band of blue and green, arranged in zig-zags, stars, squares, and pyramid shapes, going up two or three hooves. Then, there was a blank space of creamy-white wall, followed by another ornate arrangement going up just beneath the ceiling, this time with turquoise and gold forming exotic shapes that resembled fabric or knotted string. At the top, the arrangement was surmounted with miniature buttresses and arches, with depictions of the phases of the moon repeated throughout.

And that wasn't all.

Water spilled out from a series of sixteen short copper pipes, eight in a row on each of the left and right sides. That water collected in a raised trough running along each edge, which then poured out from the near end into a gutter that ran off beneath the walls beside them. At the far end of this water-room, the entrance to the depths of the sanctuary was crowned by three horseshoe-shaped arches, as beautifully decorated as the walls around them, with two speckled pillars in support, and tapestries hung like curtains to block the view.

As Honour Bound and the Royal Engineer both stopped to take in the magnificent sight, the Reverend Sister turned and bowed to the two of them.

"Welcome to the Lunar Sanctuary, honored guests. This outer room is the Vestibule of Living Waters, beyond which is the Courtyard of the Houses, where all are welcome. However, before entering, I must ask you to leave your hoofwear or footwear here, and to wash your hands, feet, and hooves in the water of the basins..."

From underneath her white cloak, she gestured wings at the two sets of water-spouts. Honour was so shocked by the luxuriously-decorated room that she didn't even notice the racks placed just before the troughs, stacked four rows high with all sorts of hoofwear.

With a nod and a closed-mouth smile, she continued. "...For the Sanctuary is a holy place, and all who enter the outer Courtyard must ablute their extremities of impurities, lest they befoul it." She nodded at one of the white-hooded, white-cloaked batpony colts behind the corporal, and he clip-clopped forward on the tile floor. "Great Lord, Brother Stephen will assist you on the left. Corporal Bound, please come with me to the right."

With a little hesitation, Honour stepped over towards the indicated fountains, as the Royal Engineer headed over to his own. Behind her, the other Lunar who had accompanied the Reverend Sister, Louis, stepped to the side and took up a position flanking the entrance. As Honour approached the waters, she suddenly caught a salty, mineral smell. And she realized that it was a few degrees warmer in there, compared with the rest of the Rookery.

‘Is this water from a hot spring?’

It would hardly be the only one in Canterlot if so.

Just before the basin, Honour removed her four sabots and arranged them with the others, on the second level of the rack. The batpony priestess beckoned the earth pony over to one of the middle spouts.

"Here, sister Bound. Allow me..."

Sitting down, she took Honour’s left forehoof in her right and dipped it in the water-trough, passing under the water-spout's flow. It was warm -- very warm, in fact. If it wasn’t heated glacial meltwater, then it must definitely be from a hot spring. Seizing up one of the small, white-bristled brushes arranged on the back rim of the water-trough, the Reverend Sister began to scrub at the bottom and sides of her hoof, speaking a prayer.

"... Bless the Mother and Her Water..."

Continuing on, she lowered the corporal’s dripping-wet left forehoof to the floor and Honour offered the right in turn, which she cleaned in the same manner.

"... Bless the slumbering and the dreaming of Her..."

The earth pony turned to allow her to scrub her hind hooves as well, and Honour could see Anonymous receiving similar treatment from the hooded Brother Stephen -- including the intonation.

"... May Her Waking cleanse the world. May She keep it for Her ponies."

‘What a curious invocation to their creator.’

But that seemed to have completed her ablution, and the Reverend Sister smiled, leading Honour towards the triple-arched portal. Anonymous joined her moments later, his wet feet slapping noisily against the tiles. None of the Lunars seemed to have needed washing; it was obviously a ritual cleaning rather than a physical one. After all, on the way over there from the Grand Hall of Stars, their hooves would have stepped in the same things as hers.

With a small bow to the 'Great Lord,' the Reverend Sister turned and led them on, pushing aside one of the hanging rungs and passing under the central arch and into the 'Courtyard of the Houses' beyond.

A large room, perhaps two hundred hooves square, opened up before them, and it was a breathtaking sight. Bright light -- brighter than anything Honour had seen elsewhere in the Rookery -- shined out from another one of those iron-caged magical chandeliers, which dangled from four chains that splayed out into the ceiling. And it's that ceiling that really caught her eye -- literally, for she almost had to throw up a hoof to shield herself from its brilliance. A colossal dome arched over the great room, reflecting the light back down as only something made from a precious metal could. The whole thing was silver, and the metal had been worked and hammered into a dizzying pattern of repeating geometric shapes, all focused on a large central circle that has unmistakably been made to resemble the surface of the moon, as visible from Equestria.

It was so dazzling that Honour almost tripped over a carpet edge, and she had to catch herself before she muzzle-planted right into the ground. Although there was so much to look at, the Reverend Sister was leading them right through the hall, so she barely had time to take it all in.

After nearly falling flat on her muzzle, the second thing Honour noticed was that the tile had given way to what seemed to be two or three layers of thick, dark carpets, woven with abstract patterns and designs. They were laid out over the floor almost haphazardly, leading to an uneven surface that changed every ten hooves or so. But they were also so plush that they cushioned the corporal’s now-bare hooves and effortlessly soaked up the remaining water still dripping down her legs.

As they followed the Reverend Sister inwards, the third thing to catch her eye was the enormous marble fountain that dominated the near side of the Courtyard, at least thirty hooves tall and more than twice that diameter at the base. From a single bubbling font at the top, water cascaded down its four tiers, whole gallons at a time. There were even a few batponies fluttering around it -- and they seemed not to be Lunars, for they were not wearing all white.

A black-cloaked mare landed in the top bowl and began to splash herself. It looked like she was mumbling something -- maybe the same mantra as the Reverend Sister recited? Beneath her, and on the opposite edge, a colt in colorful wear hovered at the edge of the second-tier rim, dipping his forehooves in, and then throwing water on his muzzle.

Was each tier reserved for a particular phase, then? Black-cloaked Stars at the top, then colorfully-dressed Rocks beneath them? And then the Dust, and finally the 'untouchable' Shadows who have to make do with the soiled drippings of their betters?

One lonely pony seemed indeed to be sitting in the lower tier, near the central pillar, shrouded in the shadow cast by the bowl above him. That must be a Shadow-phase pony. But with only four tiers, where do the Lunars go to splash and pray? And what about the Eclipse? Ignacio said they were 'outside' of social rules, and showed it by refusing to bow to Reverend Mother Superior Carmen -- or to her big-tufted lackey who was presently escorting Honour Bound to another triple-arched gate on the right side of the room.

There were a few more batponies milling about in the room; Lunars, Stars, Rocks, and others whose castes she couldn’t yet place. Most of them seemed to just be appreciating the room as she’d like to be, though a few were having conversations or speaking to themselves while staring at the fountain or the roof. Honour noted that every actual conversation involved at least one Lunar -- and that while some of the white-clad Lunars were wearing hoods and others weren't, all of the bare-headed Lunars were mares.

‘Is the hood thing just for colts?’

Another thing to ask later. So much had happened lately in the Rookery, and with the otherwise tight-lipped Sergeant Ebonshield, Corporal Bound really needed to start writing her questions down before she forgot them.

Beside her, the Royal Engineer looked just as awed as she was by the enormous 'Courtyard of the Houses.’ But their little group of four soon came to the triple-arched exit, and as the Reverend Sister pulled aside the colorful tapestry to reveal the entrance, Honour saw another long, rectangular room beyond.

There was water in there, too, except this time it wasn’t pouring from spouts on the side walls. Instead, the floor abruptly ended halfway down the hall, giving way to a rimless pool filled by a curtain waterfall high up on the back wall. The carpet had given way again to a tiled white floor, and the walls were all tiled in white as well.

‘Now what the heck is this?’

‘Is the Reverend Mother Superior going to meet us here at this sectioned-off waterfall, like a secret lover's meeting in some silly Harlequin romance novel?’

‘There's not even another doorway out of here!’

Entering the room ahead of her, Honour’s guide stopped a few hooves back from the edge of the water, and she could see behind the Lunar that the floor actually sloped downwards, forming a kind of ramp deeper into the pool.

"I apologize for hurrying you through the Courtyard of the Houses, Great Lord, but the Reverend Mother Superior is extraordinarily busy and appreciates that Your Lordship's time is precious as well. She therefore informed me of the gaps in her schedule when she wished to meet, and one is fast approaching. If your Lordship wishes for a more detailed tour, I can happily supply one afterwards."

Anonymous nodded in response. "Of course, I understand. And I think I'd like that tour. The 'Courtyard of the Houses' was most impressive."

The Reverend Sister bowed with a smile. "Thank you, Great Lord. Several of the pieces within were moved here from the Moon by the power of the Great Mother herself."

If Princess Luna used her magic to help set up this place, it would certainly go a long way to explaining how they managed to build such a huge Rookery and particularly a Sanctuary in just two years.

Rising up, the fluffy-tufted batpony mare gestured a wing towards the far back wall -- the one completely surrounded by and covered with water. "This room is the Vestibule of Priests, and beyond the Curtain of Life lie the chambers of the Inner Sanctuary."

She looked Honour and the Royal Engineer both up and down. "It is beyond this point that the unclean are absolutely forbidden... except by Her Reverence's special invitation, as has been extended to Your Lordship and Your Lordship's Retinue. To enter the Courtyard of the Houses it was necessary only to make clean the extremities, but to proceed inwards it is necessary to make clean the body whole..."

She took a small breath, and Honour saw her lick her lips. "...All material dressings, particularly those of a martial nature, must also be shed, as these unclean items will prevent the achievement of a state of purity."

‘Wait, what?’

‘I’m supposed to remove my armor now?’

‘And leave my javelins?’

This fluffy-tufted floozy wanted her to just walk into the inner sanctuary of the priests of the batponies, the rulers of the same people who only minutes ago tried to kill all of them, without any way to defend themselves?

Honour looked around worriedly, as the Reverend Sister pointed to Brother Stephen.

"... Brother Stephen will secure your belongings until you return."

The brother in question, standing beside one of the long walls, pushed against it and, accompanied by a faint click, Honour saw a section hinge inwards.

‘A secret door!’

No doubt with a way around the waterfall and pool as well.

Anonymous cleared his throat. "Reverend Sister, when you, uh, say 'all material possessions,' does that mean clothing as well?"

‘Oh, buck.’

She’d forgotten -- the Royal Engineer was a biped. And he wasn’t covered in fur or hair, either. Well, not much, anyways; not enough to be decent without at least some shorts on.

The Reverend Sister gave another one of her bows -- Honour was starting to be a bit annoyed at this tufted-up tart's obsequiousness.

"Yes, Great Lord. But towels are available beyond the Curtain, and you may avail yourself of as many of them as you wish for the duration of your stay."

"I see..."

He turned to look down at Honour. "...Well, Corporal? Shall we go?"

Honour had a lot of objections. She even had a lot of objections to this meeting in the first place. But if she was being honest, they were both the same set of objections. And her armor and weapons weren't going to avail them anything in here, anyways. Neither was the heavier equipment worn by her VIP. If the Lunars decided they wanted her dead, with one secret door already revealed, who knew how many white-robed priests could come pouring out of the walls to overwhelm them, armor or no?

Honour swallowed. "Yes, sir. Allow me to lead the way."

She heard the clinking of bronze straps being loosened above her.

"Alright, Corporal. Can I help you with your armor?"

Now that was an awkward proposal; had he even seen her put on or take off her armor? The thought was almost embarrassing, somehow, even though for a pony it was hardly indecent.

"No, thank you, sir."

Trying to keep her composure, Honour began to remove her armor while focusing her attention on Mother Carmen's hussy herald. Her and her big flowing white robe, good for hiding who-knows-what underneath, but arranged just so to expose her huge fluffy tuft. Her and her flawless Canterlot accent, and her brown-nosing manners, and her smug face. The only thing Honour felt for her, as she pulled off her helmet and began to attack her chest-straps, was seething contempt.

Sure, she had had Marcos arrested, though she conveniently arrived just after his attempt to murder her VIP. And sure, she appeared to show Honour’s VIP the respect he deserved as a member of the Blue Chamber -- but it all felt so phony and affected.

Even the accent was grating; that wasn't her normal way of talking, Honour was sure of it. She had to learn to talk like a Canterlot courtier. And it was all the better to infiltrate and deceive and dissemble -- Honour was sure of that, too. The more time the corporal spent around the batpony before her, the more she understood Ebonshield's decision to defy her mother, the Reverend Mother Superior, and volunteer to be the Royal Engineer's bodyguard in place of some snake-in-the-grass Lunar.

Still, the fact that the sergeant hadn't expressed any real reservations about this meeting was enough reassurance, she supposed, to believe that nothing bad was likely to happen. Honour still couldn't shake her apprehensions about going in 'naked' like this, but at least that was enough to keep her confident.

And speaking of 'naked,' as she finished with the final belt-buckle holding on the last of her armor set, she heard the quiet 'plop' of something cotton onto the floor beside her.

Honour glanced up, and--

‘Oh, that's Anonymous there, completely naked.’

Instantly, Honour faced forwards again, trying to stop her cheeks from turning red.

Her gaze fell upon the Reverend Sister. And that blueish-grey batpony tramp had got her tuft on maximum power once more.

‘How dare she look at my VIP like he's some kind of... freshly-baked pie!’

There was no stopping the bat’s tufted-out staring but to press on and allow her VIP to follow. Honour immediately took a step forward, and then another, and when the Reverend Sister stepped aside to allow Honour to pass, she kept going into the water and didn't look back.

Once again, it was warm -- almost as warm as the hot tub in the Spa Dalecarlia, though that was probably given some supplementary heating. As she walked down the submerged ramp, she found the slope was gentle enough that the water would barely be up to her neck by the time she hit the waterfall. No doubt that moving water feature was intended to wash away the final 'impurities'.

Honour took a deep breath and shut her eyes as she pushed through the heavy curtain; it thundered down around her, and then a moment later, it was over, and she was in another hallway much the same as the last, except more dimly-lit and arranged in reverse. As she tramped up the ramp out of the water, Honour could see a pile of fluffy white towels arranged on a bench just to the left of another tapestry-covered triple-arch exit.

Well, at least she wouldn't have to walk around wet after that dunking.

She quickly headed over and snatched one of the towels in her mouth, and, turning around to face the back-side of the waterfall, she began to dry herself off. Honour could just make out Anonymous heading into the water, one hand held out in front of him. After having taken in his front-face, the Reverend Sister was no doubt getting a long look at his hind quarters as well.

Corporal Bound was struck with a strange mix of negative feelings about that. Contempt for her shameless gaze, indignity on behalf of her VIP, whose modesty she was violating...

As Anonymous' head contacted the waterfall, with the pool-water barely halfway up his chest, he ducked down to immerse himself fully. And then a moment later, he appeared by Honour’s side, wiping the water from his eyes as he emerged from the pool -- and exactly as naked as when he walked in.

‘Right -- I forgot that was going to happen.’

Turning away and swallowing, she finished drying herself off while facing the triple-arched exit. She heard wet feet slap against the tile behind her.

"Good to see she wasn't kidding about the towels. I'm drenched."

Honour didn't look back. "Yes, sir."

Her VIP propped one of his feet up on the bench beside her as he proceeded to towel himself off.

As if showing up just to watch, the nameless blue-grey Reverend Sister pushed through the central arch's hanging curtain. "Welcome, Great Lord Anonymous and Corporal Honour Bound of Equestria, to the Inner Sanctuary. Beyond this archway lies the Holy Place where only those invited may tread."

Turning to look at her VIP -- and not right in his eyes, Honour noted -- she continued. "I have just spoken with the Reverend Mother Superior's secretary, who informed me that Her Reverence wishes to do you the honor of receiving you in the Well of Life, the innermost chamber of our Sanctuary, where you may take of the most pure and sacred waters. Please, dry yourselves only to the point of making yourselves comfortable to walk."

‘Another bath?’

‘Just how 'clean' do these batponies need to be?’

Although it sounded like this one wasn’t so much an ablution as it was some kind of healing water. Which was exactly why some ponies travelled far and wide to visit Equestria's various natural springs. Including the ones in Canterlot -- the famous ones, like the Brythonic Baths and the Sulian Baths, both up against the mountain proper and both fashionable and grand, instead of being out-of-the-way and small like the Spa Dalecarlia.

"All right, I'm ready."

Honour glanced back to see her VIP, still dripping wet from the shoulders down, had wrapped a towel around his waist. It covered to just above his knees; more than enough to be modest, though his well-featured shoulders and chest were still on display.

The Reverend Sister gave yet another, shallow bow. "Excellent, Great Lord. Please, follow me... ...and kindly pay no heed to anypony else you may see or hear. You are not the only group enjoying Her Reverence's hospitality tonight."

‘What's that supposed to mean?’

What was the corporal going to see down there? Unicorns and pegasi? Maybe even members of the Royal Undermountain Constabulary, visiting the Rookery against their orders?

‘Fat chance.’

Pushing past the tapestry-curtain, Honour found herself at a four-way intersection, with the walls tiled as they were in the entryway 'Vestibule of Living Waters,' but with carpets laid down over each over just as in the great 'Courtyard of the Houses.' A curious mix of aesthetics, but then again, the carpet helped with wet hooves, and wet feet.

The Reverend Sister led them down the straight path, and Honour realized that she still didn't know her name.

Were all the Reverend Sisters supposed to be interchangeable, maybe?

Was that why she hadn't given her name when she introduced herself?

So that Carmen could send some other tufted-up tart in her place without anypony being the wiser?

Honour also noticed that both of her accompanying hooded colts had been shed. Were they simply too junior in the priestly hierarchy to enter here -- or was it something else, like a mareitocratic ban on colts in this most sacred place?

More questions without answers. She doubted that the meeting with the Reverend Mother Superior would do anything but raise even more.

As they passed another four-way intersection, Honour suddenly heard faint screams coming from down the left corridor. Except they weren’t screams, they were… Moans?

Passing the hallway turned the voices into dull echoes, but Honour was certain she made out a higher-pitched feminine voice moaning in ecstasy -- and a lower-pitched masculine one grunting with pleasure, too. That set her ears up on point.

What had Ebonshield said about her relationships? She had had to 'mate' with whatever colt her House told her to, up to a certain point in her life. It was some sort of batpony breeding program, to make sure the bloodlines of their finest warriors were passed on? And then what of the Lunars who sat above them? After directing the Stars in one eugenics program, did they also practice their own?

Or maybe, since they were the diplomats, they used sex for some other reason...

As Honour pondered the implications of what had pretty clearly been the sound of two (or more) ponies having loud and unfettered intercourse, she found that the Reverend Sister had brought her to another one of those triple-arched doorways. This time, however, the carpet was abruptly ended, and for the last few steps her hooves had loudly clattered against the floor. And instead of three separate hanging carpets covering each of the archways, there was just a single rod across the whole entrance, supporting two sheets of heavy, opaque white fabric curtains. They billowed slightly, and she could feel hot, wet air rush out in packets from within.

The Reverend Sister pulled back one of the sheets with a wing-arm, and a blast of warmth hit Honour full on. Beyond the entrance lay a steam-filled room with a squared pool of turquoise-tinted water that bubbled and fizzed like a freshly-poured carbonated soft drink. Twelve columns formed an inner square within the pool, supporting white-and-black-striped arches that came down from the ceiling. There were also what looked like three square raised pillars in the water, creating platforms just poking up above the surface, about five hooves on each edge. And the whole thing was fed by three great trough-spots that jutted out from high up on the walls and noisily poured water down just beside those shallow platforms, accompanied by a steady billowing of steam.

The Reverend Sister sat down in front of her at the water's edge. "This is the Well of Life, where the Living Waters first enter into our Rookery and are pure and full of their sacred essences. I invite you to enter the pool and bathe in their revitalizing powers. Make your way over to one of the falls and I will serve you their waters to drink as well. Her Reverence will join us shortly."

Honour wasn’t sure what made this particular hot-spring bath more special than any of the others topside, but Anonymous nodded.

"Thank you, Reverend Sister. We're very honored by this privilege."

She supposed she should be. The Lunar was certainly making this out to be a big deal.

Stepping to the edge and onto the staircase that descended into the water, Honour’s VIP unwrapped his towel and tossed it to the side. She got the same view that Miss Tuft got earlier as he stepped down before her. And the Lunar was looking at her while it happened, too, as if watching for her reaction. Honour stiffened her resolve and made her face impassive. The Sister and all her various baths and ablutions could go pound sand back in the Grand Hall for all she cared.

As she entered the pool after her VIP, Honour found that this water was, in fact, much warmer than the rest -- and warmer even than the Dalecarlia's hot tub. Those small square 'islands' in the pool made a lot of sense, now, as a temporary refuge from the intense temperature.

The water, however, was a little deeper than the pool in the 'Vestibule of Priests.' She was forced to stretch her neck up straight to keep the waterline below her chin, almost on her tippy-hooves, while her VIP just stood easily, with his abdominal area barely covered. The two of them stepped over to the spout on the right, where she could see a collection of copper cups and bowls. Their guide followed along the outside of the pool and grabbed one of the cups in both forehooves, then held it reverently out towards the descending pillar of water, filling it to the brim. Then she lowered it towards her VIP.

"Drink deeply, Great Lord, and be rejuvenated."

With appropriate contrition, the Royal Engineer accepted the copper cup in both hands, and stepped back before drinking it down. The Reverend Sister watched as he emptied the cup, then tilted it forward and wiped his mouth.

"It's fizzy, but there's almost a sweet taste to it."

She nodded. "Yes, Lord. The Great Mother has blessed us with this source most pure."

He handed back the cup, and she placed it upside-down behind her, before seizing a fresh one up to fill in the same ritualistic manner. This one was destined for Honour, but it was going to be a bit tricky to grab it with the water so high up already.

"... Approach the edge, sister, and allow me to help."

Like a newborn filly suckling from her mother, the earth pony walked over to the edge of the pool and craned her muzzle up to where the Lunar held the cup, slowly tilting its contents down her gullet. The Royal Engineer wasn't wrong; it was fizzy, and unlike most other bottled waters of similar provenance, it was sweet. But he neglected to mention just how hot it was; Honour felt as if pure alcohol was being poured down her throat. Just as soon as she finished the cup, her neck feeling as if it was on fire, there was a merciful inrush of cool air.

Just then, the Reverend Sister turned and fell to the ground in a kow-tow to a new batpony who had just landed inside the room.

"Reverend Mother!"

It was the Reverend Mother Superior herself, standing just inside the white curtains. With all the flair of a young Canterlot courtier at home in their own palace, Carmen Ebonshield took a step forward, dressed in all white and covered in white powder from head to hoof, holding her crescent-tipped staff.

"Sister Lucretia, thank you for guiding our guests here."

She turned towards the two of them in the pool, gesturing widely with a forehoof. "And welcome, O Great Lord of Equestria, to this most Holy of Holies."

With a deep sigh, she shook her head, slumping her shoulders. "I only regret that you have come here with an awful, horrific experience so fresh in your mind. Let us hope that the healing waters of this sacred well may ease your anguish, and repair the rift that has been so foolishly dug by one of our misguided Children."

Striding over to the wall with an elegant grace, she placed her staff leaning up against it, and then with a single swift motion cast off her robes. That white powder was indeed absolutely everywhere on her, obscuring not only her hair color, but most of her physical features as well.

"I do not know what was going through the Sixth of Meteors' mind when he decided to so flagrantly violate our Great Mother's edicts, but, rest assured, with him and his associates locked up in the oubliette, we shall find out the truth behind his misdeeds."

With a smile, she stepped around the pool's edge, towards Honour and the VIP, and the still-prone Reverend Sister, who only now rose.

"...But let us put this awful event out of mind for now. I invited you here, O Great Lord, because I heard that you had come to our Rookery once again to train under the Stellar Seven in the martial arts. Is that true?"

To a nod from the Reverend Mother, the younger Lunar removed her robe as well, and with that article discarded, Honour could see she wasn't just a pretty face and a big fluffy blue-grey tuft; she had a trim and athletic blue-grey body to match it, as well.

Anonymous, standing with one hand on the nearest raised platform, answered Carmen. "Yes, Your Reverence. We had just finished before the, as you say, awful experience."

Carmen smiled again, and dipped one of her forehooves into the bubbling water. "Then with the fight against the Meteors, on top of that training regimen, you must be exhausted. The Stellar Seven is an expert in her profession, and has a reputation as a harsh and difficult mistress as well."

Drawing back the now powder-free forehoof, Honour saw that she had a similar purple coat as her daughter the sergeant did.

"It has been a long night for me as well, so far, and with this most recent disaster I dare venture to say that it is far from over yet. But I am not here to saddle you with my burdens, Great Lord; rather, I am here to relieve you of yours. We Lunars have the distinct pleasure of serving as the diplomats for the Children of the Stars, and this is a service which is often physical in nature."

‘Wait a minute…’

Flexing her white-powdered wings, she continued. "I see that you have already drunk of our Waters of Life. I trust you have found them refreshing. It would be my privilege, now, if you would allow me to continue your experience here in the Well with a massage to relieve your aching and tired muscles -- Sister Lucretia will attend to your consort, as well."

‘Consort?!’

Honour almost choked, even with her mouth empty.

‘Didn't she get the clue from the last meeting?’

The Royal Engineer cleared his throat. "I'm in no pain, Your Reverence, so please don't trouble yourself. Also I should clarify, Corporal Bound is my escort, not my consort."

The two Reverends exchanged a telling glance, before Carmen answered back. "Oh, of course, of course. Your Lordship is most gracious; please accept my apologies for the confusion. I'm afraid I have been dealing with obstinate Stars and quarrelsome Rocks all evening, and it has taken a toll on my memory and concentration. But you are too polite to feign contentment; it is no trouble at all. Quite the opposite; I honestly enjoy the act of kneading another's muscles. There's a physicality to it that is most rewarding. And it will certainly be a relief to not have to suffer the pointless bickering of committees."

Extending a wing, she dipped it in the water, and a ring of white powder dissolved off of the leathery black surface. "And it will be most pleasurable to take off my face, if only for a brief moment."

Without another word, she leapt forward towards the nearest platform, extending her wings and passing directly under the shower of water from the adjacent spout. In a single graceful spray of foaming white water, the Reverend Mother Superior was stripped of her makeup. On the platform just above Honour stood a mare who, while quite clearly older, looked by no means elderly. If anything, Carmen's extremely trim, dark purple body, shock of short white mane, and delicate black wings put even the young voluptuously-tufted Lucretia's physique to shame.

Buck, if Ebonshield's mom looked that good at... Fifty-something? Sixty? No wonder Ebonshield herself didn't look her own age. And no wonder either at how Carmen managed that difficult-looking gliding ballistic descent back in the Grand Hall of Stars.

Spreading her wings wide, the Reverend Mother Superior waved a forehoof towards the open platform surface before her. "If the Great Lord would be so kind as to lay face-down on the platform, I will gladly show him the further powers of this Holy Well, when combined with proper ministrations."

Anonymous clambered up as indicated, just fitting his head, torso, and most of his legs on, with his shins and feet dangling off the edge into the water. Lucretia fluttered her way over to the next-nearest platform as well, and waved at it while calling out to Honour.

"Corporal Bound, I await to serve you."

The last thing she really wanted right then was a back massage from Miss Megatuft, but she was already there and it would be improper to refuse, so she stepped over and then clambered somewhat inelegantly up onto it. Turning her head so that she could keep her eye on her VIP, Honour saw Carmen begin to work her hooves into his back.

At least it wasn’t not so loud in there that she couldn’t hear her talk ten hooves away.

Not like the Reverend Mother was trying to be discreet, however. "Now, do not hesitate to speak up if anything doesn't feel right. I am well-practiced in this art, but of course, never before on any of your kin."

Honour felt a hoof press into her shoulder as Anonymous answered Carmen. "Of course, Reverend Mother. I had a masseuse the other day who was in the same situation."

The hoof on Honour’s shoulder began to make its way down her back, applying pressure the whole way. It was okay, she supposed.

"Oh, really? An Equestrian practitioner?"

Honour heard the flapping of leather wings as Lucretia reared back to apply a second hoof to her opposite shoulder.

‘Hmff…’

"No, a griffon actually. She said she normally massages pegasi, specializing in their wings."

As that second hoof went down and the first one came back up for another pass, Honour started to feel a little less upset with Lucretia McTuftychest here. It was still a bit awkward enjoying the pleasures of privilege herself, but the hot stone under her belly, the aromatic air, the gentle splash of the water, and the meticulous hooves of her attendant were certainly helping her cope with that awkwardness.

"How delightful! I shall have to seek out this griffon and learn from her the secrets of that technique. As you may imagine, we also have little experience with the feathers of our Equestrian kin."

Lucretia's hooves made their way just past Honour’s hips, firmly squeezing the tension out of her muscles. Somehow, the apprehension she’d had about this started to melt away.

"Please forgive me if this question offends, Reverend Mother, but do you go often to the surface?"

The tension snapped back, and Honour straightened her hind legs with a jolt. But the Reverend Mother Carmen only bent down to dip her forehooves in the water before pressing them into the Royal Engineer's shoulders once more.

"Unfortunately, no. Except when the Great Mother calls us, only the Stars are allowed regular access to Equestria, when they guard the Great Mother's Palace at night."

‘Oh, phew.’

The masseuse began to press on the corporal’s spine, drawing relief outwards as she moved her hooves to Honour’s flanks.

"I do so look forward to the day when we Children can all finally rejoin our cousins in Equestria. I worry that it is still some time away, for there is so much work still to be done."

Honour felt a heavy weight on her back, and realized that Lucretia was actually standing on her with all fours. A muzzle whispered down at her ear. "Please let me know, Sister Bound, if this burden is too great for you to bear."

"I'm all right."

She nodded. "Good. We have heard of the great strength of the earth ponies. You have very powerful muscles, sister. There is much vitality in them, and much tension as well. It is easier for me to work them in this manner."

With all four of her hooves in the center of Honour’s back and her full weight behind them, she stretched her forehooves up towards her neck and her hind hooves down towards her flanks.

‘Ohhh…’

‘Oh, that's just right.’

Involuntarily, she arched her back slightly, lifting off of the stone before settling back down again. She must have made some audible sigh of relief, because Lucretia's muzzle came back and whispered at her ear again.

"You are very tense indeed, sister. Has it been some time since your most recent orgasm?"

Honour wanted to suddenly turn over and throw her off -- but she didn’t let up with her hooves, and the earth pony was caught in between the offensive, personal invasiveness of her question, and the utter bliss of her ministrations.

All she managed to do was sort of grunt noncommittally.

"Mmmff."

Honour started to lose focus of the conversation Mother Carmen was having with her VIP. It was something about his meetings with the ironworkers, and the formula for steel, and his work on metallurgy, and so on.

The whole thing started to blur, and all she could hear instead was the pouring of water, and the fizzing of the pool, the splashing of Lucretia's hooves whenever the batpony dipped them in the water, and her own moans and grunts when the Reverend Sister applied those heated irons to her back. As her breathing slowed, her eyes started to droop closed.

Everything became lost in the sea of mist and steam...

Chapter 108

Artemis Sparkshower

‘This really doesn’t seem like a good idea.’

Following the blind Balladeer of Ghosts through the Rookery's dark tunnels would be questionable, even if the whole quaternion and Specialist Artemis Sparkshower’s VIP were with them. But she was doing it with just her unicorn comrade Lily, split up from Honour, Anonymous, and most importantly, Purity, who at least knew the place -- and could see where she was going in the darkness far better than Artemis could.

Although, Ignacio appeared to 'see' the path pretty clearly using his 'magic-sense,' or whatever it was. He did say it was a lot easier with familiar places; maybe he was taking them to one such familiar place?

She trotted forwards a bit to come up beside him.

"Mister Blazon, sir?"

The batpony continued to hobble forward, walking his staccato four-hooves-and-one-crutch beat.

"Jes?"

"I was just wondering, sir: this place you're taking us, does it have a name?"

Artemis saw his brow shift underneath his red-fringed black blindfold.

"Mi casa."

Lily piped up behind him. "What kind of a name for a place is 'mikasa'?"

Ignacio chuckled. "Heh, it is a joke. I am taking jou to my house: mi casa..."

He sniffled deeply, thrusting his crutch forward in another step. "...It has no name, it is simply my home. We of the Eclipse Phase dwell not on the symbolism and the pageantry as do the Lunars. They are the ones who love the names mystical and fantastic, not us."

There was more than a hint of disdain in his words. Artemis felt she was starting to understand why Sergeant Ebonshield expected him to be grouchy last time. And why she was so surprised when he was pleasant and cordial to all of them instead.

Lily trotted up beside him as well, apparently no longer content to just follow from behind. "You're moving along pretty confidently. I guess the route to your home must be pretty familiar to you, in terms of your magic-sense?"

The Balladeer of Ghosts grinned. "Jes, this is so. But also I have confidence in the two young Equestrians with the eyesight proper and functioning to warn me if I am about to bump into someone or something, no?"

Lily snorted and shook her head. It may have been a joke, but he wasn’t wrong; Artemis would have spoken up if somepony crossed their paths. Yet, so far the route had taken them down empty hallways and vacant tunnels, though the pegasus could hear voices and activity behind some of the curtained doorways. Sounds and smells of cooking, mostly.

It was almost 'lunchtime' down there, she supposed.

The current tunnel, already fairly dimly lit by just the occasional hanging lamp, suddenly opened up into a larger chamber with a high ceiling and a bright light. Beyond that forty-square-hoof room, the line Artemis was following continued straight ahead, but it looked to be completely unlit. And, more importantly, there was a large symbol painted on the floor, there. A twenty-hoof, black-filled circle with a half-hoof-thick red outline.

Lily stopped to shoot Artemis a concerned glance, and the pegasus stopped to whisper back. "Isn't this the symbol of the Eclipse?"

She nodded, and turned forward again as Ignacio toddled right over the circle. "Mister Blazon, didn't you just tell us the Eclipse weren't big into symbols and the like?"

Without so much as breaking his odd-numbered step, he tapped his crutch against the drawing and continued on. "This painting on the floor is not for my Phase. This is for everypony else, to warn them to keep out."

That answer resulted in another exchange of concerned looks between Artemis and Lily.

Artemis watched as her unicorn buddy took a half step forward, before she swallowed and spoke up. "Why do they need to keep out?"

Ignacio paused at the entrance to the pitch-black tunnel. Leaning over his shoulder, he whispered. "Because past this room, there is a maze confusing, and also there is no light -- only shadows."

There was a certain, unusual emphasis on that last word which made Artemis’ coat stand on end. After a momentary pause, he turned forward again, waving his crutch aimlessly in the air before proceeding.

"... Jou may use a little of jour magic to illuminate the way, unicornio. But not too much, or the buzzing may make me lose my way. Though, this is unlikely, since I know the path well. And keep close, both of jou!"

That was hardly reassuring. Artemis felt worse than ever about the whole setup, and she leaned over towards her comrade.

"Are you still sure about this, Lily?"

Sucking in her lips, Glamerspear inhaled through her nose, then nodded. "I am, yeah..."

Stepping forward, she surrounded her horn with a teal-tinted white glow, then turned back to the pegasus.

"... Artemis, are you ever afraid to fly?"

Sparkshower scrunched up her brow. "I mean, almost every baby pegasus is afraid the first few times... But if you mean as an adult..."

She took a deep breath, then looked over at the darkness that even now was swallowing up their guide-pony. "...I guess sometimes, during really bad storms and the like, it can be scary, even terrifying. It's a fear of the unknown, I guess, since we try to avoid flying during awful weather, though AWACS ponies sometimes have to."

Lily took another couple of steps forward, so that her light kept Ignacio visible, and Artemis followed along. "...Or when there's fighting involved. I was afraid of flying against Joker, at the bridge. You remember. The Royal Engineer helped me overcome that fear; I don't think I'd be afraid of him again. But it could happen with somepony else, maybe. Or in a different situation. There's always the danger of falling to the ground."

Lily nodded, continuing forwards. "Unicorn magic can be like that, too. Learning your first real spell is dangerous and scary, even if afterwards casting it under normal circumstances is trivial. Learning greater magic after that can be just as harrowing."

Sighing, she shook her head. "I dunno where I was going with this, exactly. I guess all I meant is that I think this is one of those situations? Where it's scary and it feels dangerous, but that's just because it's an unknown, ya know?"

Artemis nodded, and Lily exhaled dismissively. “I mean, creepy blind mage, pitch-black maze, huge 'keep out' sign painted on the floor... Yeah no kidding it's scary at first, right? But it is his home, and I bet the next time we come here we'll just stroll right in, laughing about how scared we were the first time."

Artemis couldn't help but think of a different alternative.

"If we make it out again."

Glamerspear shot her a glare, and the pegasus forced out an insincere chuckle.

"Heh, I'm just joking, Lily..."

The faux sincerity quickly dissipated.

"...Mostly."

Boldly, Lily pressed forwards. "We can handle this, okay, Sparks? I've got enough power in my horn to light these tunnels up so bright that they'll be able to see them from Cloudsdale. If you want to stay here or head back, I won't blame you. This is more about me than it is about you, after all. But if the Royal Engineer and the Corporal can fearlessly walk right into the 'Lunar Sanctuary,' I think we can both follow a blind batpony who doesn't need light -- which, duh, is why they didn't bother installing any in here -- into his home."

Swallowing, but encouraged by her little pep-talk, Artemis followed along. "Okay. You're right. We can do this."

Within moments, they both caught up right behind Ignacio, following him side-by-side in the dim light of Glamerspear's globe of illumination. The new tunnel shaft was small, with a low ceiling and rougher walls than elsewhere in the Rookery, but the ground had still been beaten or blasted into a flat path. After a while, Artemis looked back, and saw the circle of light to the entryway grow smaller and fade.

Then, she followed Ignacio around a corner and it disappeared entirely.

Suggested background music: Jerry Goldsmith - 'The Passage', from 'Alien' [1979]
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hh9M1EE-pm8

Hoofsteps -- Artemis’ own, presumably -- echoed off in the distance as the tunnel walls closed in uncomfortably, and forced her and Lily to walk muzzle-to-tail behind their guide, with the unicorn in the middle so as to maintain the light on his backside.

The pace was comfortably slow, and Artemis tried to keep her focus on her partner-pony in front of her, but with each step, as Lily bobbed her head -- and therefore her mane and horn as well -- the light source bobbed and weaved, casting shadows that flickered and danced along the walls surrounding her. These sensations became routine after a while, and the pegasus started to settle down into a rhythm, but then all of a sudden both of the walls beside her disappeared to reveal an alternative path, and what were short shadows and shallow echoes instead became voluminous and reverberant, hinting at things unseen in the distance.

The moment passed, and the walls returned, but the hint of terror remained. And those walls which at first which were uncomfortably close were now a friendly relief from the terror of an open, empty space.

‘A space that might hide anything in its darkness.’

That was an unsettling thought. Artemis couldn't help but look back occasionally, wondering if anything was now behind her.

Then, at just one of those rearguard-checking moments, it happened again -- first the left wall, and then the right. That was another two entry points for somepony trying to flank her.

Or some-thing.

‘Thundershowers, there's a reason most pegasi don't like tight corridors -- and I’m one of those pegasi!’

The hallways in the Rookery had been manageable, but this was on a whole different level.

Wait, was that a hole in the ceiling that they just walked past, too?!

Stifling a gasp, Artemis turned forwards again, resolving herself not to look back any more.

‘Just, put one hoof in front of the other and press on.’ Ignacio knows where he was going. And he'd get her there safe and sound, as long as she just followed him.

The light in front of her flickered again, and Lily turned her head to glance back at the pegasus.

"Are you okay, Sparks? You're breathing awful hard on my tail."

Artemis nodded, her helmet scraping against her gorget. "I'm fine. It's just more cramped than I expected, that's all."

With a cocked eyebrow that made it unclear if she bought the pegasus’ lie, Lily turned forward again. "Is it much further, Mister Blazon?"

It was so constrained there that Lily’s own body muffled her voice. And she heard the echoes come chasing back up behind her...

"... much further ... much further ... much further ..."

Ignacio's reply sounded even more distant. "No, not much further. Dim jour light more, if jou can. I do not wish to disturb the others."

‘Others??’

‘What others??’

Artemis opened her eyes wide in a state of semi-panic, and, defying her earlier pledge, checked behind herself once more as Lily further dimmed her globe of illumination.

"Is this okay? Artemis, you can still see me, right?"

She didn’t need to see her -- the pegasus had pushed up so close that some of Lily’s tail-hairs were poking through her open visor and brushing her cheeks.

It was whatever might be following that worried her.

The formerly bright outline of Artemis’ own shadow behind her faded into the darkness around it, but even accounting for the existing flicker caused by Lily's head-movements, she could swear that there was something out there.

Something dark, and evasive.

Her stomach started to turn, and she felt her armor push against her body in strange ways. Pieces of it that should have been properly suspended from straps instead began to resist her normal movements. She even began to feel uncomfortable with her own steps, like she was going to miss-place a hoof and trip over herself at any moment. It was all too reminiscent of how she’d felt during her duel with 'Joker,' or her first armed reconnaissance against the Changeling hordes, or her first flight home in a thunderstorm.

The butterflies of inexperience.

She heard Ignacio speak from up ahead.

"Ah, here we are. Hola, cabrones."

Still looking back, Artemis plowed her right cheek right into Lily's backside as she failed to recognize the halt in time. Receiving nothing more than a silent, incensed scowl, Lily turned back to face the scene before them.

The suffocatingly tight corridor had given way to a large, round room with a domed roof and a bowl-shaped floor. And...

‘There's light here?’

Suggested background music: Mark Morgan - 'Mortuary', from 'Planescape: Torment' [1999]
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6ZP3R_T4-1o

A smokeless fire pulsed warmly in the center of the room, with a bubbling cauldron hanging over it.

Artemis piped up. "I thought you said there wasn't supposed to be any light in here."

In front, Ignacio turned around, a scowl on his mouth. "Where do jou see light except on the unicornio?"

Hesitantly, she stepped up beside Lily, and pointed a hoof at the center of the room. "That fire; it's casting orange-red light."

He faced the fire himself, appearing confused. "The fire makes the light? Jou do not joke?"

Artemis shook her head. "No, it's really making light."

Even Lily chimed in. "Yeah, and a lot of it, too. I don't think we need this Globe of Illumination any more."

As the light winked out above her head, Ignacio snorted with amusement. "This is funny. That is a small magic which provides heat for cooking. All of us, we are blind, and we never invite anypony in, and we never make this magic outside of the home, so... Nopony has ever seen her to tell us that she makes also the light. Heh, hehe. This alone was worth inviting jou here, ehehehe."

From the left, Artemis heard an elderly mare speak up. "Ignacio, ees that jou?"

Their guidepony turned in her direction. "Sí, Aldonza. And I have brought with me a pegasus and a unicorn."

An old, bearded colt, lying on the floor beside her, cried out in a hoarse and raspy voice. "¿¡Un unicornio!? ¿¡Aquí!? ¡Ándale, ándale, hermanos míos, debemos cargar!"

As the owner of that voice tried to struggle to their hooves, Artemis saw Aldonza lay a reassuring hoof on his shoulder. "No, no, Rocinante, calm jourself. We are all friends, here. Ignacio has only returned for lunch. Eet is safe. Go back to sleep, jes?"

With a series of confused grunts, the shouting batpony went back down again, and Artemis saw his chest heave deeply.

Ignacio sighed, and looked over his shoulder to mutter at Sparkshower and Glamerspear. "This is my family, such as we can say among the Eclipse. We were all born under the same shadowed and red-ringed sky particular, and of the ten children then birthed, there are only we three left. We are the oldest surviving clutch of Eclipse. Aldonza, there, crafted most of the lights magical that jou have seen in the Rookery. Rocinante, beside her, he was also a Balladeer of Ghosts as I am, but now he has almost left us."

With a glum expression, he watched Aldonza soothe the sleeping colt, offering him a bowl of something to drink.

"...He sleeps all the time, and he sees everywhere unicorns that he must charge and duel."

Taking a deep breath, Ignacio sat and gestured his forehooves forwards. "Well, since jou can see, come in, and sit down. 'Mi casa es su casa,' as we say: 'my house is jour house'; make jourselves at home. Are jou hungry? There is soup above the fire, and bowls beside the flame. Help jourselves to as much as jou please."

Still scrutinizing the scene, Lily shook her head. "I'm not hungry, thanks."

Artemis shook hers as well -- maybe unnecessary, since her hosts couldn’t see, but then again, maybe that was something they could make out in the 'magic-sound pattern' that let them perceive her. "Thanks, but I'm just glad to be out of those tunnels."

A shiver went down her spine.

‘Just how long was that trip?’ It was probably just a few minutes, but it sure left an impact. She still felt her stomach was a bit upside-down from the experience.

Spying a nice flat cushion on the floor in front of the fire, she took a step forward to sit herself comfortably down and regain her center of balance. But as Artemis pushed off with her hind legs, she gasped as she found herself floating through the air -- and her wings were still folded tight against her body!

"Huh!?"

While Lily's mouth hung open, Ignacio looked up at the pegasus and grinned. "Oh, jes. I suppose also that I should welcome jou to the Moon. Mind jour step; things and ponies are lighter here."

Chapter 109

Honour Bound

Corporal Honour Bound couldn’t remember the last time she’d ever been so completely relaxed. Reverend Sister Lucretia, that big-tufted batpony priestess, was a genuine miracle-worker with her hooves.

"Unnhhhh."

Honour had long since closed her eyes and surrendered her consciousness over to the Lunar’s incredible massage. And, mercifully, having recognized the corporal’s incapacity for conversation, Sister Lucretia had let up on her questioning and continued in silence. The same was not true of Honour’s VIP and his masseuse, the Reverend Mother Superior herself.

"How wonderful! I hope one day to see this marvellous device of yours. And how quickly did you say it can go?"

"Oh, about sixty kilometers per hour, if the road is smooth and flat. But if I can craft a proper internal combustion engine, we could easily do double that. We could even build a machine that can fly."

Carmen leaned in, spreading her wings wide for balance as she rocked all four of her hooves back and forth on his shoulders.

"A machine for flying? I'm imagining a great metal beast with flapping wings."

Anonymous, though obviously enjoying the massage, was nonetheless doing a good job maintaining his presence of mind. Better than Honour was, at any rate.

"Not quite like that. Imagine holding your wings out straight, and then having a powerful fan blow you forwards."

Suddenly, the earth pony heard several sets of hoofsteps at the door.

"Your Reverence, please forgive the interruption."

Lucretia didn’t let up with the hoofwork as Corporal Bound turned her head to see who was there. It was another Lunar mare, accompanied by two hooded colts.

‘Huh, so they do let the males in here.’

Carmen didn’t sound happy to see the group, however. "Oh, really now, what is this? I left specific instructions that I was not to be disturbed for at least an hour."

The mare, presumably some other Reverend Sister, bowed deeply. "My sincerest apologies, Reverend Mother, but the Eighth of Meteors has arrived at the Sanctuary. He wishes to speak with his imprisoned Six immediately. He has invoked the Privilege of Consultation."

It was another Lunar who spoke flawless Equestrian with a Canterlot accent. At this point, Honour was sure they all did.

Turning her head again, she saw Carmen roll her eyes in exasperation.

"Of course he does. And of course he has..."

Sighing, Carmen stepped daintily off of the VIP's back. "...Great Lord, please accept my most regretful apologies. A true Lunar massage takes at least an hour, and I have, to my great disappointment, only been afforded half that meager time."

‘It's only been half an hour? Seriously?’

Honour felt like she’d spent the whole night there. Lucretia kept going on her back, and she closed her eyes in delight once again, as the muscles that had been worked so hard -- first by the Royal Engineer's demanding training, and then by Marcos' abrupt interruption -- were kneaded back into submission.

Well, it was time well-wasted, at least -- but she realized she should still pay attention to this.

Honour opened her eyes again to see Carmen shaking her head, her brow furrowed in frustration as she administered a few final hoof-prods to her VIP. "And for such a powerfully-built creature as you, my Lord, I think closer to two hours would be required for the massage to fully penetrate."

‘Two whole hours?’

Honour had been on the verge of falling blissfully asleep after just thirty minutes. Two hours would probably have rendered her so fluid she’d melt right into the water like a blob of jelly.

"After the outrageous incident earlier tonight, I must attend to this matter personally. But I insist that after your next training session with the Stellar Seven, you come to the Sanctuary again. Night or day, and regardless of whatever privileges a Star may be invoking at the time, I will see to it that you experience the Well of Life as our Great Mother intended it."

Lifting his head somewhat, the Royal Engineer turned to look up at the Reverend Mother. "Of course, Your Reverence. But your excellent massage has been so relaxing so far, I fear that I'd fall asleep halfway through such a lengthy affair."

Carmen smiled. "That is the objective, of course; the Sanctuary accepts the Rookery's tired and worn, who later leave here refreshed and well-rested." Spreading her wings again, she flapped them once and hopped back to the outer pool deck.

Anonymous pushed his chest off of the platform and sat up, curling his legs up in front of him. Obviously, more to cover himself than to preserve any kind of heat; there was no need for that in this hot, steamy room.

"Your Reverence, before you leave, may I ask you another question?"

Halfway through one of the hooded colts helping her into her robes, Carmen turned around again and gave a small bow. "Of course, Great Lord. I am yours to command."

With his arms wrapped around his legs, Honour’s VIP furrowed his brow. "This Sanctuary, and this Well of Life... Are there others like it on the Moon as well?"

The Reverend Mother Superior grinned. "Ahh... You wish to know how we did things before returning here, eh?"

With a small chuckle, she licked her lips and continued. “Yes, each House -- what we call our city-states -- has a Sanctuary for its Lunars, which services both the House-members and any visitors as well. Though this is by far the grandest of all Lunar Sanctuaries, the others follow a similar layout and have similar features."

Fastening the clasp to her cloak with her wing-fingers, Carmen pointed a forehoof at one of the cascades of steaming-hot water. "This particular Sanctuary is unique not just by its presence here in Equestria, but also in that the Great Mother has blessed us with a supply of fresh, pure, hot water straight from the heart of the Earth. On the Moon, provisions are not so abundant."

She lowered her hoof, and turned to seize her crescent-topped staff, tucking it under one elbow as she continued with a more serious expression. "The Moon is a harsh mistress. Her depths are cold, and most of the available water is frozen in vast, underground glaciers. It is around these that the Lunar Sanctuaries, and indeed, the Houses themselves are built, for without water there can be no life."

Anonymous nodded. "And so the Lunars control the defrosting and distribution of that water?"

The Reverend Mother Superior returned a thin smile. "Yes, Great Lord, we are entrusted with that responsibility. It is why we must hold ourselves to the highest standards, and why I must leave now to keep the trust of the Stars. Not so much for life here in the Rookery, but for the rest of my Phase and my people still living on that other world. For whoever controls the ice, controls the Moon."

The threat of denying somepony access to water sure sounded like it would result in obedience. Then again, following through on that threat against somepony powerful -- like, say, one of the 'Eighths' of a Star temple -- would probably result in an armed uprising. Better to give 'basic' water away for free, no matter who asks, but promote upstream, 'special' waters as reserved for the elite -- the better to get those elites to agree to whatever the Lunars required.

Things were starting to make sense to the corporal now; so much sense that Honour had actually forgotten about the Sister still working away on her back.

Carmen hadn't, however.

"Lucretia, come along now. We can't have you servicing the Great Lord's concubine -- my apologies, his escort, rather -- when he himself is unattended. As for you, Great Lord, I invite you to stay in the Well of Life as long as it pleases you."

Honour was too mellow to complain even internally about that little slip.

Lucretia stepped off of the earth pony and fluttered gracefully over as Carmen kept her gaze upon the junior Lunar. "Go and see to it that an ample supply of towels are placed here at the entrance for the use of the Great Lord and his escort."

With a nod, Lucretia brushed through the curtains, allowing another blast of refreshingly cool air to come rushing in. The Reverend Mother Superior, properly attired with her staff in the crook of her left forehoof, looked down at Honour’s VIP, still sitting on the further 'massage island.'

"As for your plan to enlist the aid of the Guild of Blacksmiths in establishing a new foundry in Canterlot, know that it has my full and unequivocal support. I wholeheartedly endorse it, as I would endorse any plan like it which promises to peacefully bring we Children into contact with our Equestrian cousins. For only through such contact can we mend the rift that has survived for a thousand years. With your permission, I will inform the Great Mother and convey my feelings to the Rocks as well."

Anonymous glanced over at Honour. "I haven't actually informed Her Majesty of my plans quite yet; I was hoping to first impress both of Equestria's rulers with a demonstration of that steam-car first. If you would be so kind as to wait, I will send word once I have made the proposition myself."

Carmen bowed gracefully. "Of course, Great Lord. I would not wish to upstage you in this matter."

Smiling gently, she raised her right forehoof and the three newcomers exited the room behind her. "Now, spend as long as you wish in here, and leave at your pleasure. Lucretia will be back soon with towels for when you are ready to depart, and will check in regularly to see that you are still enjoying yourselves. You have water to drink, but would you prefer something else? Or are you hungry? Shall I send for refreshments?"

The Royal Engineer shook his head. "No, thank you, Your Reverence."

With a final elegant flap of her wings, she lifted off into the air. "Then until we meet again, O Great Lord." Holding her wings steady, she floated mysteriously back out through the curtains, coasting on the stream of hot air that followed her.

‘There she goes again, showing off her physical abilities with a fancy trick like a backwards coast.’

Honour just barely heard Carmen’s hooves contact the tile floor outside, before she was on the carpet again and the room fell silent.

Turning her head back towards her VIP, Honour saw Anonymous deep in thought.

"Is everything all right, sir?"

He nodded. "Yes. It's just been a busy day -- a busy night, rather."

Unfolding his arms, he turned sideways away from her and scooted towards the edge of his little massage-island. "First the training, then an actual fight..."

Leaning back, he slipped into the water, then turned around to rest his arms on the platform. "...And then half an hour being massaged by the leader of the batponies in Equestria, while she pumped me for information about my activities."

Honour had noticed that. She wasn't going to say anything about it just yet, but since he'd brought it up...

"You knew, sir, and you went along with it anyways?"

The Royal Engineer shrugged. "Why not? I don't have any secrets. Plenty of ponies have already seen the carriage. I serve the Equestrian public. The whole point of my position is to develop science and engineering for Equestria as a whole."

"I suppose that's true."

There was another rush of cool air, and Honour saw Lucretia returning with a hooded colt who was flapping away behind her, his forehooves clutching a tall pile of neatly folded white towels.

"Great Lord, here are towels for you when you have finished. If there is nothing else, I shall retire for now to leave you to your bathing. If you require the restroom, there is one just outside on the right. I will return again in a quarter of an hour."

The Royal Engineer nodded in acknowledgement, and the colt placed the towels down on a small bench nearby, before the two Lunars turned and exited the room once more.

Returning her attention to her VIP, Honour saw that he once again seemed lost in thought.

"I'd like to rest here for another half an hour so, if that's alright with you, Corporal."

"Of course, sir. Are you still sore from the exercise?"

He shook his head. "Not really. It's a mental exhaustion, I think. That was the first real fight I've actually been in."

She hadn't considered that. Despite his imposing stature and considerable physique, Anonymous himself claimed not to be a soldier or fighter. Out of concern that he'd be defeated, he'd refused to fight in the pas-de-sabots at Newstirrup Bridge, although he'd wound up helping Glamerspear later anyways. To say nothing of his precision inspirational speech to Sparkshower beforehoof. And then there was the way he’d refuted Honour’s own arguments, later, about whether the fight was a good idea to begin with.

The point was, for a colt who wasn't a soldier, he sure did a good job of faking it. But still, there was a difference between behaving soldierly outside of a fight, and behaving that way in one. The batpony Meteor he'd helped knock out had been trying to kill him, after all.

"You did well, sir. In the Royal Guard they teach us to fight in teams, whether ranks of earth pony javelin-throwers, pairs of pegasus wing-mates, or even groups of anti-air-unit gunners and shield-casters. I was holding off an enemy, and you took advantage of his disorientation and an open field to flank him. It was a textbook 'hook' maneuver."

He took a deep breath. "Just before I grabbed his foreleg, I remembered I was only in bronze armor, while he was wielding steel blades. That made my heart skip a beat."

Honour still didn't quite understand this whole steel-versus-bronze distinction, especially since her bronze-equipped crew easily beat their opponents, but if the Royal Engineer was concerned about the difference, then she’d take it as a serious matter.

"You kept your nerves, though. And he wasn't expecting that straight punch to the brisket you gave him, or else he would have tried to make it a glancing blow."

"I think his failure to react was more due to the menace of your spear in his face, Corporal."

Honour chuckled. "As we say in the Royal Guard, sir: a kill's a kill. If we were counting, you'd get the credit with the assist to me. Although as the officer in charge, technically you'd be credited for the fight as a whole."

He grunted noncommittally, but didn’t reply.

She saw him take a few deep breaths before he ran one hand across his brow, brushing away the sweat and condensation. He took another deep breath, slower this time, and glanced down -- almost seeming to avoid Honour’s gaze.

"Corporal, there's something I wanted to ask you about. From before the fight, during our training together..."

‘Is he looking for some feedback?’

Sergeant Ebonshield had been barking instructions and advice the whole time, but Honour didn't have the chance to say her piece about it.

"...The, ah, brief incident with Specialists Sparkshower and Glamerspear, before Marcos arrived..."

‘Oh, that.’

Honour took a breath as she recalled the 'incident' in question.

‘Of all times for those two bucking 'shoes to get aroused…’

The Royal Engineer hesitated. "...Is that, uh, common? In the Royal Guard?"

He wanted to say 'normal;' she was sure of it.

Honour cleared her throat. "Ahem. No, sir, it isn't typical of the Guard. I apologize for their interruption, and I will speak to them about it afterwards."

That was just the formal response of a senior non-commissioned bodyguard to their VIP. Anonymous was more than just an ordinary VIP, though, and she owed him a little more.

"However, among Equestrians, pegasi have the greatest reputation for being 'rough-and-tumble' and ready for battle. Although Specialist Sparkshower is young, and has yet to discover the full extent of her combat capabilities, I think that fighting spirit is strong within her. As for Specialist Glamerspear, she has in the past vocally expressed a certain... enthusiasm for battle."

That was a polite way of saying that Sparkshower was a desperately lovelorn young mare, while Glamerspear's lust for violence bordered on depravity. Though that depravity was shockingly effective, particularly when combined with an incapacitating smoke-bomb. She wondered if Ebonshield herself packed a few of those under her big, black cloak.

However, Anonymous didn’t seem entirely convinced by Honour’s explanation, and actually looked a little worried.

"I see. And I wasn't doing -- I wasn't doing anything inappropriate? During our training? Grabbing at, uh, the wrong parts, or, uh..."

‘Really?’

‘He's worried about propriety during a combat exercise?’

The gentlecolt who politely sat with a heartbroken Sparkshower for three hours and talked about relationships without even thinking of making a move on her? The colt who turned down Ebonshield's offer of free sex, no strings attached -- to say nothing of the Reverend Mother's offer, as well? And without even mentioning the make-up flowers he’d sent to the corporal after she’d started an argument with him? At this point it was almost inconceivable that he would even be capable of crossing that sort of line.

Honour furrowed her brow and shook her head. "No, sir. You didn't do anything inappropriate. You can trust that I would have spoken up if something was wrong. And I do have armor down there, sir." She chuckled awkwardly.

This wasn’t the kind of thing guards ordinarily talked about with their VIPs. But really, what was ordinary about this assignment? Smiling to herself, still lying on her belly, with her hind legs stretched out behind her and her fore legs out in front, Honour watched her Very Important Pony, who wasn't at all pony, look wistfully up at the ceiling.

He licked his lips, then spread his arms wide, planting his hands on the platform before him.

"Corporal, I have another question, and please don't hold anything back in your answer..."

He stared at her with a mixed look of confusion and concern.

"...Am I physically attractive? To ponies, I mean?"

‘What?’

‘Where's this coming from all of a sudden?’

‘Oh, of course.’

Sparkshower spilled literally all of her saddlebag-spaghetti in front of him after Ignacio called out Glamerspear's horn-anteglow.

She looked the Royal Engineer up and down -- well, his top quarter, at least, since the rest of him was either underwater or covered behind the large raised platform.

No hot-blooded colt with a shred of self-confidence would ever ask that question in such a manner, and she’d never felt that Anonymous was lacking in that quality. It was tough to understand just where he thought he stood, though.

She decided to turn the question around on him before answering.

"You don't think that you are, sir?"

Anonymous sighed, and shrugged his shoulders. "Well, to be honest, no, I don't. Or rather, I didn't..."

He nonchalantly flipped his hands up, then rubbed them together aimlessly. "...When I arrived here by accident, I was still struggling to finally get over my disaster of an engagement. I wasn't really looking -- I wasn't actively 'dating' or anything like that. Obviously my first thoughts upon arriving here were on trying to get back, but when that turned out to be basically impossible, I had to find something worth doing, some purpose to my presence here."

Folding his arms over each other, he leaned forwards. "Engineering is what I came up with; it's what I did back on my world, after all. And after throwing myself into this role, eventually, my thoughts turned again to companionship, but looking at the facts, I had to face that it was probably unlikely."

He held up a hand and began to count off on his fingers. "I'm a biped, whereas you're all quadrupeds. I'm mostly hairless, whereas you're all completely covered. I've got hands and feet, whereas you've all got hooves. I have to wear clothes all the time, whereas a naked pony is generally not indecent. And I'm drably colored, whereas Equestrian ponies span the whole rainbow."

Lowering the hand, he continued. "The physical differences seemed to present a real barrier to physical attractiveness, no matter my wardrobe, and I never got any sense otherwise from the ponies I met." Anonymous shrugged. "Not that Equestrians have been anything less than open, friendly, and accommodating. But I didn't think any pony would ever think of me as a possible romantic partner, so I resigned myself to eternal bachelorhood."

He tipped his head sideways and lifted his eyebrows. "And there I probably would have stayed, if not for Specialist Sparkshower's outburst earlier. It made me reconsider my conclusion."

There was a lot of sense in what he was saying. But the crucial piece he'd left out was that really, until she and the rest of the quaternion came along, he probably wasn't seeing any mares on any kind of regular, friendly basis at all. That kind of frequent, extended contact could change ponies' attitudes, as it certainly had in this case. If Honour had just spent all of her time standing silently at the door, it wouldn't have turned out this way.

She wondered about his thoughts the other way around, however.

"I see. But what about yourself, sir? Do you find ponies attractive -- physically?"

Her VIP looked her over, and she suddenly felt very self-conscious about her position. She may have simply been lying down, but with her hind legs stretched out, her plot was a little raised up in the air. The kind of pose a colt might find in a magazine, the kind they read for the 'articles.'

Maybe she could have phrased that question better.

Anonymous hesitated in answering. "I... I think I'd sort of... unconsciously forced myself not to see ponies that way, to save myself from despair."

Turning aside, he smiled and laughed. "...Hah, you know, humans have a reputation even amongst ourselves for 'overactive' imaginations when it comes to sexual partners. I mean, you should see some of the fiction my people wrote, about falling in love with all sorts of creatures."

Anonymous looked down at the water to compose himself, then swallowed before meeting Honour’s gaze once more. "But you're right; it's not simple for me, either. Some things don't bother me much, like say the four hooves or the coats. But others are harder to get over. For example, on my world, we're the only ones who can talk! Equines over there are just simple, fairly dumb animals. That's a tough preconception to ignore."

He laughed again, with more abandon. "Heh, though I suppose the riotous colors help. Ponies here are colored almost nothing like ponies on my world. Pink! Green! Blue! Bright red! And the manes and tails, too! Why, the skin and hair colors of my people are pretty much just different saturations and brightnesses of basic ordinary brown, ranging from almost totally black to nearly completely white..."

Anonymous gestured towards her, tears of laughter in his eyes. "You're almost the only pony I've ever met with anything approaching a 'normal' color scheme for a human!"

The uncomfortable spotlight she’d felt grew more uncomfortable still. Lying on the platform, she actually felt naked and exposed, which was absurd, considering her VIP was ultimately far more undressed than she was. And in the last hour, she’d seen both his front and back, completely uncovered!

The Royal Engineer calmed himself down, still smiling warmly. "But my people do dye their hair from time to time. And having been here for almost a year, now, I think I've grown accustomed to the new color palette, so that's not really a problem either."

He gestured at his upper chest. "There are other differences of course. Female humans don't have flat chests like males do; there's fatty-tissue breasts here that are a secondary sex characteristic. Sort of like Minotaurs, I guess. Mares don't have those, but, uh..."

Swallowing awkwardly, he looked away once more. "...Some of the, uh, things ponies do have are actually, er... intriguing, I guess you could say."

Honour was tempted to ask for details, but this conversation was awkward enough already.

Seeming to bring his thoughts to a close, Anonymous nodded as he looked her in the eyes.

"So, yes, I could find a pony attractive -- and I would, if I had any thought that the attraction might be mutual."

He really was uncomfortable talking about this; more than she was about being on a literal platform before him, spread out like a buffet dish. Honour really didn’t have the energy to stand up -- and jumping into the water would be another exercise in standing on her tippy-hooves.

To be fair to her VIP, love was rarely an easy thing to discuss. The corporal supposed she should just be happy he was discussing it with her, in the relative privacy of this Well of Life, rather than, say, speaking to Sparkshower or Glamerspear -- or, Celestia forbid, Ebonshield. The sergeant would probably not only tell him he was a certifiable stud, she'd insist on teaching him the proper sexual procedures to please any mare he ever met.

Putting that thought out of her mind, she returned her focus to the Royal Engineer, who was still awaiting her answer to his question from a couple of minutes ago.

"Sir, to answer your question honestly, and without holding anything back..."

She tilted her head and glanced aside for a moment, uncomfortable with even the idea of disappointing her VIP.

"...No, I don't think you are generally attractive to ponies."

His face didn’t betray any reaction.

"Oh."

Now that the harsh truth had set in, Honour took a deep breath. "But let me emphasize that this is an initial impression, sir. Attitudes can change when somepony knows you well. As you said, it's hard to overcome the physical differences, but it's easier when they're familiar, and no longer so foreign. And I think you do have a charming personality, sir."

She cleared her throat.

"...Since you deserve my full honesty, and since I think by now Specialist Glamerspear has more than proven her worth as a member of your quaternion, I might mention that three weeks ago, in the first few days of our assignment, she privately expressed a certain... distaste... for your physique."

Anonymous raised his eyebrows. "She said I was ugly?"

Technically, 'hairless monkey with ratty old jogging shorts' was not the same as 'ugly.' But, really, that's what she meant.

"Not quite with that blunt word, sir, and I won't repeat what she did say, but her meaning was clear."

Lifting her eyebrows, the corporal gestured with the bottom of one forehoof. "...Yet, here she was, earlier today, nursing an ante-glow from watching you trying to grapple me. And a day before, again in private, she expressed sexual attraction for you, sir."

The Royal Engineer's eyebrows went even higher. "She did?"

Last night's ruminations may have been those of a half-drunk mare who'd gotten bucked and then discarded by a worthless noblepony colt that was only interested in the next cheap whorse, but there was a grain of truth in them. To the point that if Anonymous started seriously coming on to Glamerspear, Honour didn't think she would put up more than token resistance, probably out of some fillyish desire to make things 'interesting,' or to 'play hard to get'.

"Yes, sir. And as for Specialist Sparkshower, well..."

She chuckled, biting her lip. "...I think her emotions are still in a strange place from her recent breakup. But I also think that she was being genuine earlier tonight, and there's no denying her, ah, physical display."

That was a pretty weak euphemism for an enormous, ten-hoof-wide wing-boner.

Anonymous furrowed his brow. "I understand about her emotional position. We had a good talk about relationships last night, though at the time I didn't consider it anything other than friendly chat. I don't think I'd be comfortable beginning a relationship with her at this point, given what's just happened to her. But you bring up an interesting point about physical displays. I had no idea that outstretched wings could signify attraction, for example. Or a horn... ante-glow, you called it?"

She nodded. "Yes, sir. As in the glow that comes before. A sign of arousal in unicorns, just as outstretched wings are for pegasi."

Anonymous simply nodded. "I see. And is there anything else I should be aware of? Any other secondary sexual characteristics, for example? Besides words or physical contact, how would I know if a mare was flirting with me -- is flirting even a thing, here?"

‘Okay, that's a kind of... adorable question to ask.’ The Royal Engineer was not some fresh-faced young buck; he was an accomplished professional, and someone who had already had his first love on his own world. But because he was a stranger in a strange land, he was asking the kind of questions foals and fillies asked when they started to hit puberty.

"Flirting is a thing, yes, sir. Besides words and physical contact, as you said, sir, probably the most visible sign a mare is being provocatively sexual is when they stick out their tuft."

"Their what?"

Of course he didn’t know that, just as she’d told Sparkshower last night.

Honour collected her legs and pushed herself up, turning to face him before sitting down on her haunches. It was hard to fluff out her tuft when it was all wet like this, but she still gave it a try, brushing her forehooves over it to quickly make it look as plush as possible. When she reached what she considered a passing score -- although it was nothing compared to Lucretia's front-stage shrubbery -- she looked back up at her VIP.

"Their tuft, sir -- the little bit of extra-long coat-hair here at the front. It's, uhm..." Feeling a bit flush in the cheeks, she looked away momentarily. "...It's more impressive when it's not matted and wet, sir."

Anonymous looked more confused than anything. "Is it... sexual? Like, to touch?"

Honour’s cheeks turned even redder at the thought of her VIP running his fingers through her fluff, but she kept things professional.

"Not really, sir. Not any more than touching anywhere else. There's just the implications of, uhm, having a colt snuggle your fluff, and what it'll lead to, that sort of thing."

The Royal Engineer just stood there, staring at her tuft. Honour didn't think anypony had really done that in a long while. Even Castlerook had the propriety to only occasionally sneak a glance -- sort of a little game he played with her, where he wanted her to catch him in the act. A way of letting her know he was serious about being interested in her as more than just a friend. But here was her VIP, appearing to pore over every single hair. It'd be flattering if she thought he understood what he was looking at. She didn't have a monster tuft like Sparkshower, but she’d never had any complaints from those few colts who had had the opportunity to enjoy it.

Anonymous finally averted his gaze from her tuft, looking Honour in the eyes. Then he started to speak, slowly, as the truth dawned on him.

"Corporal, am I mistaken, or did Reverend Sister Lucretia--"

She interrupted before he could finish that thought. "Yes, sir, she had an enormous fluffy tuft, and it was out front and center from almost the moment she arrived in the Grand Hall."

The Royal Engineer cocked an eyebrow. "I guess that makes things quite clear as to what Carmen had in mind for the second half of this 'massage' session."

Honour started to smile. "Yes, sir, it does."

He answered her smile with one of his own. "Alright, Corporal, I think I'm getting the idea."

Stepping out from behind the platform, he moved through the water towards the staircase. "If there's nothing else you think I need to know right now, then I think I'm done for tonight. Let's gather everybody up and head back to the surface."

That sounded like a good idea to her.

"Yes, sir."

Suggested interlude music: Huey Lewis and the News - 'Do You Believe in Love' [1982]
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BzIbyDbmsyg

Chapter 110

Lily Glamerspear

‘This is completely nuts!’

After losing her footing and drifting into the bucking air with her first step into the next room, Sparkshower desperately flailed with her other legs in an attempt to recover. It didn't work, though -- she just tripped even harder, and her armored muzzle was half a hoof away from striking the ground when she picked herself up with a quick beat of her wings. That single push, however, was enough to send her straight into the low ceiling with a brain-rattling, metallic KLANG. Shocked and nerveless, she fell back down to the ground, hitting hard enough to splay her limbs. Panting, her eyes wide, Artemis looked up at Specialist Lily Glamerspear in confusion now that the unexpected torment of her movement was over.

"You okay, Sparks?"

When a slow, semi-stunned nod from the pegasus weakly confirmed she was alright, Lily turned towards their blind guide.

"Whaddya mean, 'Welcome to the Moon'? THE Moon?"

The armored pegasus struggled, slowly, to get back to her hooves. It didn't look easy, but Lily was worried that any help she might give would just make things go sideways for her comrade all over again.

Ignacio Blazon, the batpony sorcerer, answered her question with a shrug. "Jes, the Moon. Is there some other?"

‘Wise-ass.’

Grumbling, Lily tried to restrain her frustration. "How did we even get here?"

He nodded at the doorway. "Through the passage. How else do jou think?"

‘That didn’t answer anything either! Yeah, okay, it's obviously a magic passage, but still -- how come I didn’t notice the change in gravity sooner?’’

Lily’s pegasus battle-buddy, now standing up properly, looked back towards the entrance tunnel. "You know, Lily, I was starting to feel a bit funny a while back. Something felt strange, but I put it down to nerves."

‘Huh.’

Had she really been paying so little attention to her surroundings that Lily hadn’t noticed everything getting lighter?

She supposed she had been pretty excited to learn what Ignacio had to teach. And she was also walking slowly enough that the change in gravity might not have made itself obvious -- plus it had been a flat passageway. Here, with the shallow drop of the bowl-shaped floor, walking was trickier.

The Balladeer of Ghosts stepped over towards the entrance and removed the crutch from underneath his shoulder, then leaned it against the wall. Standing up solidly on all fours, he began to shuffle slowly towards the central, magical cooking-flame, beckoning Lily with one of his deformed wing-stumps.

"Come, come, enter. Sit by the fire, and have some soup. Jou will adjust to the change easily; it is not so great as it first appears. Even I have learned how to switch, and I am not a young athlete. Be thankful jou are here in this place underground with the rock solid and firm, and not outside on the Moon itself..."

Lily and Sparkshower both watched in disbelief as the cripple moved unsupported, and having little trouble reaching one of several worn-looking small rugs before sitting down on his haunches with a tired sigh.

"...For the surface above is covered with a kind of coarse sand, rough and irritating, and when jou come back indoors it gets absolutely everywhere. ¡Fu!"

It was all too much for Lily. "You don't need your crutch?!"

He whinnied. "Not on the Moon, no. I told jou, things are not so heavy here. Now, come, and sit on one of the rugs, since jou can see them, and eat. There is a ladle in the soup-pot, and there are bowls beside it. It is lunchtime, after all."

‘Unbelievable!’

Here she was, having casually walked through a tunnel under Canterlot mountain, only to be teleported to the Moon in order to sit around a magical flame and eat soup with a blind batpony sorcerer.

Sparkshower took a hesitant step towards the central fire-pit, and managed not to trip and launch herself into the air again. Lily gave walking a try, too, and was relieved when she was also able to keep her balance, provided she moved slowly enough -- especially since she didn’t have wings to try to fix things if her hooves failed her!

Not that those had proved super helpful in getting Sparkshower back on her hooves.

Walking in this low-gravity environment was pretty weird, though. It was a little like being underwater, sort of, except without anything holding back her movements.

And with the feeling that even just an ordinary trot would send her careening up into the air.

Maybe that friction-boosting spell she’d used in the water-slick Cave of Pillars could be of use to counter it? Something to keep in mind if she felt the need to get out of here in a hurry.

Suggested background music: Mark Morgan - 'Smoldering Corpse Bar', from 'Planescape: Torment' [1999]
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JgjqtIY_zww

After a delicate, slow sauntering, Lily joined Ignacio, the other two batponies, and her pegasus comrade in a close semi-circle around the room's source of light and heat. Above a solid pillar of what looked like slowly-roiling molten lava, the soup was bubbling away before her. It smelled pretty good, and there was a hint of spice in the air, too. On Lily’s right, Sparkshower licked her lips and looked over expectantly towards the unicorn.

‘Should I use telekinesis to serve the soup, or--’

Ignacio interrupted her thought. "Use jour horn, unicornio. Aldonza has never witnessed the magic of jour kind. And I will have a bowl also, if jou please."

The elderly batpony mare to the right of Ignacio was sitting up straight, wearing the same black mask with red fringes as he was.

‘Guh, it's creepy seeing the two decrepit old masked figures staring at me side-by-side.’

‘It'd be worse if those blindfolds had eyes drawn on them, though.’

Now that was a terrifying thought.

With some trepidation, Lily seized up one of the plain red clay bowls from a little stack of six, enveloping it in her teal glow. Neither Ignacio nor Aldonza reacted. And the sleeping batpony sorcerer who’d cried out earlier didn’t wake up again, either. She grabbed the ladle in her telekinetic aura as well, and filled the bowl with two hearty scoops of the pot's dense ragout, then floated it over to Ignacio, who tapped a forehoof on the ground to indicate that she should place it before him. That she did; yet she still elicited no reaction from the batponies. Nonetheless, Lily had the distinct impression that she was, once again, being stared at.

The unicorn took another bowl and likewise filled it, passing it over to Sparkshower, who took it in her forehooves and sniffed before starting to blow repeatedly to cool it down. Finally, she served herself and, still holding the ladle to one side, took a quick sip from her bowl.

It was a thick and heavy broth, full of beans, and with a sweet taste accompanied by a hint of hay. She wasn’t really sure what it was. ‘Some kind of batpony Moon-spice,’ she supposed. The soup tasted good, but it was still a bit too hot, so after panting a bit to take the heat off her tongue, Lily released the ladle back into the pot and lowered her bowl down to the floor to let it cool off for a moment.

Ignacio turned his head slightly towards his comrade. "Well, Aldonza, what do jou think?"

The old mare just sat there, her mouth hanging open. "Eencredible. All that magic just to serbe tree bowls of the fabada."

‘Again with the remarks about how much magic I spend to do stuff!’

‘Yeah, maybe I’m not the most efficient TK-wielder in the Royal Guard, but come on!’

These Eclipse Phase really didn’t have a lot of power at all, did they? Which made it all the more perplexing how they managed to accomplish magical feats -- like animating the sand-creatures, or healing deep wounds, or even creating those balls of permanent illumination in the Rookery, as Ignacio said Aldonza had done.

Lifting the bowl up with her hooves, Lily blew and took another crack at the thick stew, leaving the batponies to chatter over their own bowls.

"Oh, Gonçal was over heerrre earlier, Ignacio. He came to bisit with Rocinante for a while."

Ignacio nodded and gently wrapped two hooves around his own meal, holding it close to his chest. "That was good of him. I will go and return the visit later today. How is Ermessenda?"

Aldonza shook her head. "She ees almost gone, he said. She does not want to eat. And he cannot force her."

The Balladeer of Ghosts just grumbled knowingly. "She and Rocinante will both leave us soon."

Lowering her bowl, Lily’s comrade Sparkshower spoke up. "Gonçal and Ermessenda are other Children of the Eclipse?"

‘How in the buck does she pronounce foreign names so well after she's only heard them just once? Mare oughta be in the diplomatic corps.’

The elderly Aldonza nodded her head. "Jes, pegaso. They were born een the same jear as us, but under a different eclipse, seberal months later. Only two of that brood remain. Coming from the Rookery, jou will habe passed the entrance to their home only just before arribing here."

‘So those other passageways actually went places?’

Lily piped up. "Are these tunnels where the Eclipse live? Like, all of them?"

Aldonza nodded. "Jes. We do not libe with our Houses, as the other Phases do. Eenstead, we habe our homes together, and the tunnels connect us to where we may serbe."

‘So it's a whole web of portals?’

One wrong turn might've led Lily to land straight in the middle of some batpony city! A couple of Equestrian Royal Guards instantly appearing probably would've caused quite a ruckus.

Sparkshower frowned. "You don't live with your houses, but does this place have a name? I know the Houses have names; you said you were from the House 'Rima de Serenidad,' didn't you, Mister Blazon?"

The Balladeer of Ghosts nodded. "That is my House, jes. It means the 'Rille of Serenity'; it is the name of a trench from which the city, or house, takes its name. As for this place..." He turned his head as if glancing around. "...We Eclipse call it simply 'home,' but the other Phases, they have another name for it."

Tilting up his head, he paused for emphasis. "They call these the Halls of the Blind."

‘Creepy.’

Ignacio just chuckled, though. "A title most appropriate, no?" He tilted his head as if looking around the place. "This room particular has been home to Eclipse since the matter of the Phases was first settled. For seven hundred jears, Children have lived here. It is where the eldest of us dwell, and we are those eldest."

‘Damn, that's a long time for one hole in the ground to have ponies living in it.’

Sparkshower spoke up in a whisper. "Seven hundred years..."

Lily could see the wheels turning in the pegasus' head, just behind her eyes.

"You said there were originally ten born under your Eclipse? And now there's just you three? And with on average one-and-a-half lunar eclipses per year -- does it have to be a total eclipse?"

Aldonza leaned in slightly towards Ignacio. "The one who asks this, it is ees the pegaso large weeth all the armor?"

The Balladeer of Ghosts chuckled. "Heh, jes. And do jou hear...?"

After a moment, the mare nodded. "Her spear... jes. The magic is faint, and deeficult to noteece, beside the unicornio. But there is power hidden within."

‘She's talking about the Bradamante Lance!’

‘Huh, so these batponies aren’t just able to perceive my spells, they can even hear magic items, as well.’

Ignacio nodded, pointing at the weapon still strapped to Sparkshower's back. "Jou should have witnessed her in action. She used the spear to flatten one of the Quintos de los Meteoros into a tortita earlier, hehe."

Then he raised his voice to address Glamerspear and Sparkshower. "To answer jour question, pegaso: jes, only an eclipse total will do this. The eclipse partial may sometimes bring sick Children, but never with any abilities magical."

‘Interesting distinction.’

The wheels in Sparkshower's head started to turn again. "So if your sample was typical, does that mean there are something like fifteen Eclipse born each year? Is that right?"

Aldonza nodded. "That ees not far from the truth, I theenk."

Sparkshower continued. "But of that year, there are only five of you left? And you're the oldest Eclipse, you said?"

Her batpony counterpart nodded. "Jes..."

Showing a crooked-tooth smile, Aldonza grinned. "... How old do jou think we arre, pegaso?"

As Sparkshower examined the pair, Lily thought about the question herself. She couldn't see their eyes to get a sense of the wrinkles on their faces, but they were so feeble and crippled it made her want to guess an ancient number like eighty or even ninety. Yet something told her that wasn’t going to be right. The unicorn caught the playful hint in Aldonza's voice, almost as if the question itself was a trap...

Sparkshower made her guess. "Are you seventy?"

Aldonza and Ignacio turned to each other and chuckled. "Sebenty! ¡Jajaja!"

"¡Oho! Seventy! ¡Oye! Would that we could see that number..."

With a sigh, the Balladeer collected himself and lifted up his bowl of soup. "Sterility, blindness, and crippled limbs are not the only price we pay for these abilities, pegaso. The aging premature is another. Tonight, we three are not even fifty-eight."

‘Not even fifty-eight!’

Even Sparkshower's healthy underestimate was off by more than a decade! Buck, there were still fighting sergeant-majors in the Royal Guard older than that!

After taking a sip from his bowl, Igacnio continued. "And for a thousand years, no Eclipse has survived past sixty."

‘What?!’

‘That means they have less than four years left! Celestia, this conversation's sure taken a morbid turn. Way to pick a good topic, Sparks.’

"Oh. I'm sorry."

Ignacio shrugged off her apology. "There is no need for regrets; it was Aldonza who chose to play this little game with jou. So do not be sorry, pegaso. Be happy, as we are; happy that there will be no more."

‘Huh?’

"Whaddya mean 'no more'? No more Eclipse Phase?"

The Balladeer of Ghosts fixed Lily in his eyeless, masked gaze. "Jes, no more fase de Eclipse."

He took a deep breath. "Jou understand, when the red ring shows around the black homeworld, there is an energy powerful which strikes the Moon, and penetrates deep enough even to reach these 'Halls of the Blind.' And every one of us can hear it; it is loud enough to wake us no matter how deep our sleep. Even Rocinante, in his state, would awaken for it."

Turning his head up towards the ceiling, he continued. "In the thrall of this energy, all Eclipse are consumed with a sensation of the dread -- a terror horrible for what follows inevitably..." His voice cracked at the end, and he sat, silently, still staring up.

Aldonza looked down towards the cooking pot, and completed his thoughts. "Screams, which only we Eclipse can heerre. The howling of the Children who enter the world during this ebent sinister. ¡Ay!... Too many times habe we hearrd that sound infernal."

Ignacio straightened his head again. "And accompanied always, by the wailing of the mothers unfortunate whose accursed children are fated to join us in these Halls."

‘Yikes.’

Lily exchanged glances with Sparkshower, who looked absolutely horrified. But when the unicorn turned back towards the batponies, she saw that Ignacio and Aldonza were both smiling, and the Balladeer chuckled happily.

"Haha, but no more, jou see? Three eclipses have passed without these terrors. And what a relief it is."

Lily furrowed her brow. "Why? What's different now?"

His crooked-toothed grin grew even wider. "Because now we Children are welcome on the home-world, in Equestria, at least to visit. Any pregnant mare who is at risk of giving birth during an eclipse is sent away to the Rookery under Canterlot, safe from the threat lunar." The Balladeer threw his head back in laughter, and even Aldonza tittered happily beside him. "In less than sixty jears, there will be no more of our kind! And we are glad to see the end of it."

His insane statement was no less crazy than everything else that's happened since Lily got here.

‘Buck, even getting here was nuts!’

But something didn’t add up.

Shaking her head, Lily cleared her throat. "Wait, Mister Blazon. Weren't you the one trying to tell me last time about how everything in life is a trade-off? How your blindness and crippled limbs was just the price you paid for being able to do magic?"

He nodded, still smiling. "Jes, I said this. And I think still that the price is fair, jou know. But what I did not say is this..."

Ignacio leaned in conspiratorially. "...This price for the magic? Even if this is fair, I wish that I had not paid, and I wish for that nopony should pay for this ever again." Rearing back, he held his head high. "And jou will find an attitude similar among all those Eclipse who survive their birth, and their training, to reach adulthood."

‘'Survive'?’

Lily didn't like the sound of that word.

"The odds are really that bad?"

The elder batpony curled his lips up into what felt like a sneer, inhaling sharply through his nostrils. "The art of sorcery does not agree with us, unicornio, not as the magic does with jour kind. This is why a heavy price is paid with our bodies. Ten are born under the eclipse: five die before they have been weaned from the milk of their mothers, and then two more are lost to the Shadows while trying to learn to harness the magic. Aldonza, Rocinante, Ignacio -- these three names have stood together, with no others, since we reached the age of twelve."

With a knowing nod, he picked up his soup-bowl. "This is why I am curious to know what jou can learn, unicornio. For, as much as I wish the end of the Eclipse, there would be good in preserving at least something of what we were, and what we could do."

Sniffing at his meal, he took a small sip, exhaling loudly. "...Ahhh... But enough talk. This is the time to rest and to eat. Take jour time and enjoy the fabada; today, it is very good. The House Cráter Tarucio has been generous in their supply of the saffron which gives it the taste sweet and fresh. Eat, and enjoy."

‘Saffron?’

That was a pricey ingredient to splurge on a soup for three blind, old batponies. And just why exactly was this other random House supplying the Eclipse with fancy spices? To say nothing of 'how,' if non-Eclipse weren't allowed into the Halls of the Blind. Something to ask later, since Ignacio had all but told Lily to shut up and just eat the stew.

Well, if he wanted a break, the fifty-seven-year-old-colt-who-looked-eighty-years-old deserved it.

At least Sparkshower didn't have to be told twice; the pegasus quickly slurped down the bean-soup in her bowl and then reached forward to grab the ladle to serve herself more.

Ignacio started humming aimlessly to himself, but said nothing when, while he was still on his first bowl, Sparks went for her third. Aldonza, sitting still beside him, seemed to be lost in quiet contemplation as well.

In the quiet and relative darkness of the cave, Lily found herself feeling a bit over-relaxed. It was late, and even though she’d pre-napped earlier in the afternoon to avoid being too tired tonight, she was still starting to get groggy. She did just fight off a squad of 'Swarming Meteors,' after all.

In the regular Guard, and outside of an actual war, a skirmish like that would've earned her at least a day or two off to recover. But in the VIP service? Nada, unless her VIP dismissed her. And that bucker probably wasn't tired at all. Even if he was, he was probably off having his 'steam-piston' operated by a big-tufted young batpony Lunar.

Well, who knows? Maybe then there would finally be something that could wear him out! Lily smiled to herself, imagining the Royal Engineer turning out to be just a two-pump chump in the hooves of a pretty mare.

Oh, and Ebonshield's mom was supposed to be there too! Buck, what if he got personal treatment from the Reverend Mother Superior herself? He could literally be bucking Ebonshield's mom right now! Talk about making things awkward for his bodyguards...

As Lily’s mind wandered, she noticed Sparkshower was glancing around the room, her ears sticking straight up. There was another sound of scraping metal on metal, as she twisted her head around the other way, scanning the walls for something.

Lily nodded at the pegasus. "What's up, Sparks? You're enjoying the soup, ain't ya?"

The cream-colored mare furrowed her brow. "Nothing... I just..."

She turned sharply again, eyes darting between the entrance hole and Ignacio's shadow on the wall behind him.

"...I thought I saw something."

The unicorn looked around. Besides five shadows cast by the steady light of the magical 'lava' lamp, plus one admittedly kinda creepy dark entranceway, she didn’t see anything interesting.

Lily grinned. "I think the gravity's getting to you again, Sparks. You shouldn't have chugged down the stew so fast."

"But..."

Grumbling, she faced the fire, flattened her ears, and tried to sit still for a moment. But moments later Lily saw her eyes and head swivel to track something on the unicorn’s left.

"...There!"

Lily turned and looked as well, half-believing she’d see something. But all she saw was her own shadow staring back at her. With a skeptical glance back at Sparkshower, she raised a forehoof and waved it around, watching as the dark spot on the wall waved along with her.

"It's just our shadows, Sparks. They only move when we do. I was probably just lifting my bowl to drink, or something."

That didn’t seem to placate her pegasus comrade.

Shrugging, Lily took another sip from her bowl. Neither Aldonza nor Ignacio appeared to have paid any attention to their conversation, nor to the constant twitching of the paranoid pegasus. The Balladeer of Ghosts was still just sipping from his soup-bowl, quietly humming the notes of some half-forgotten tune.

Tilting her head back, Lily drained the last dregs from her bowl. She lifted a forehoof to wipe her muzzle, and considered whether she should have a second.

‘Hmm…’

It was pretty good, and she was hungry for more, but she did have a dress to fit into next weekend. There were a lot of beans in the stew. Probably not worth the risk -- to her plotline or to her ponut.

"Lily, I hear something."

She nodded. "Yeah, probably my own stomach growling. But I'm thinking about the Gala, ya know? That Louis Valise dress doesn't have a lot of stretch to it."

There was an exasperated sigh accompanied by angry metal protestations as Sparkshower got to her hooves. "Come on, Lily, I'm being serious. Something is in here with us, I'm sure of it."

‘Okay, fine.’

Dropping her bowl to the ground, Lily lit her horn up and stood up. She saw shadows cast by the central light, now half-faded thanks to her own illumination. And, what a surprise, rock walls. Rock walls to the left, rock walls to the right, rocky ceiling above her, and rocky floor beneath her.

"See, Artemis? Nothing here, just rock, rock, rock."

Turning off her light, Lily sat back down. "Now come on, get a gr-"

sssss

The unicorn twisted her hips and slowly pivoted her head to look behind her at the source of that hissing noise. But she didn't see anything out of the ordinary.

"Okay, I heard that."

Beside her, Sparkshower was panting heavily. "You mean you can't see it!?"

Scrunching up her snout, Lily narrowed her eyes. "See wha..."

Twenty hooves away from her, there was an extra shadow on the wall that didn't belong to anypony in the room. A dark blob, mostly formless.

Lily’s eyes went wide and she lit up her horn, but the darkness didn't disappear. To her horror, in the presence of her magical illumination, the flat, black shape seemed to take on volume, slowly emerging from the wall like a drop collecting at the tip of a stalactite. Sparkshower stood mute as, in seconds, the black wall-shadow poured itself out of the wall, into the shape of a pony.

Not just any pony -- the bucking thing looked like a unicorn! It twisted its 'head' back and forth, and Lily saw it had her mane-cut!

"... What in-"

SSSSS

The shadow-creature opened its mouth, and with an incredible speed it rushed straight at her!

"-BUCK!"

Acting on pure instinct, Lily instantly materialized a DPICM spear above her head and immediately sent it flying at the creature, all while flinging herself sideways to avoid the charge.

"¡Ayaaaaa!"

"¡Ohhhhhh!

She paid no attention to the pained, wailing batponies as she scrambled back to her hooves, loading a fresh round and scanning the room for threats while Sparkshower's equipped her lance as well.

"Where is it? Where'd it go? Did I hit it?!"

Artemis shook her head. "It disappeared as soon as you shot at it, Lily."

The unicorn heard an angry grumble from behind her. "¡Ay! That is because jour damnable spear has almost deafened me! Gran Madre, that was loud!"

Turning, Lily saw Ignacio panting forcefully, his forehooves clasped to his head in pain. Aldonza, meanwhile, was rolling back and forth on the ground, moaning in pain, holding her ears in her forehooves as well.

Ignacio shook his head. "Why did I not think that it would be louder in this small and quiet place? What an idiot I am to have thought of such a plan estúpido." Lowering one forehoof, he moved the other to rub his forehead.

The other batpony struggled to sit up, her mask half fallen off of her face.

"Are jou alright, Aldonza?"

She nodded, raising a forehoof to adjust her blindfold, and similarly panting while rubbing her temples. "I think so, Ignacio, but Gran Madre, my third ear is deafened! Please, stop the noise this instant."

Ignacio turned to Lily, waving a forehoof dismissively. "Turn off jour horn, unicornio, and put away that weapon, pegaso. There is no danger. Let us have the quiet for a moment."

‘Nuh-huh, I don't think so.’

"Not until you tell us what that was."

Suggested background music: Christopher Young - 'Something to Think About', from 'Hellbound: Hellraiser 2' [1988]
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8zICDwMdHMQ

Sighing heavily, Ignacio tried to settle himself back onto the small rug. "That was one of the Ombras Malditas, the Accursed Shadows."

‘Oh yeah, that's real reassuring.’

Lily exchanged a glance with Sparkshower, who'd furrowed her brow. She looked confused and upset, but determined.

‘Right back at ya, mare.’

Her pegasus comrade cleared her throat, still wielding her lance. "I thought the Shadows were just one of the batpony castes?"

Ignacio grunted angrily. "Jes. They are the undertakers, the dust-sweepers and garbage-collectors, the diggers of latrines and the pits septic. But I did not say Shadows, I said Accursed Shadows. That is a difference important."

Lily still hadn’t turned off her horn; there was still a spear loaded and ready to fire right above her head. "Okay. And what the buck is an Accursed Shadow?"

Curling his lip up into an annoyed sneer, the Balladeer of Ghosts struggled to his hooves. "Jou wanted to know how I make puppets of the sand? How I heal wounds? How Aldonza makes the chandeliers of light?"

Weakly, he stepped towards her. "This is how, unicornio. This is the power of the Eclipse. We cannot draw on magic so easily as jou do, but we can sense it intuitively, and with that ability there is one thing which we can do very well."

Getting right up in her muzzle, he continued on. "This existence -- this reality that we live in -- she has a shadow dark and sinister. Another world; a location far away elsewhere, and jet also close by."

He sniffed deeply, face still pressed up against hers. "And the creatures which dwell there are powerful, unicornio. Power the likes of which not even jou have at jour disposal. Nor even jour Princess Celestia, at least not directly."

Ignacio sat down on his haunches in front of her, turning his head as if looking around the room. "Always, these shadows seek ways into our world. Always, they hunger to inhabit the bodies of the living, and sometimes even the dead. They are powerful, but evil, and irredeemably so."

Licking his lips, he took a deep breath. “We cannot make the magic as jou can, but we can draw back the veil, and allow those shadows to enter, while binding them to our will. For at the moment of entering, they are at their weakest, and easily overcome. It is by doing this that we can accomplish our feats.”

‘Summoners!’

‘They're summoners!’

‘The whole lot of them, every single Eclipse!’

All they know how to do is pluck bucking demons out of another bucking dimension! Ignacio wasn't puppeteering the sand, he'd somehow bound demon-shadows into it! Nor did he heal injuries -- he summoned up shadows to do that for him! No wonder the Grand Hall of Stars had gone so dark when he healed that injured batpony at a distance from his pulpit. And he did it all... with music?

A glimmering spear still floated above Lily’s head, and she recoiled in horror. "You brought that 'Accursed Shadow' here just by humming?"

The Balladeer of Ghosts nodded. "Jes, that is my technique, though there are others also. And I brought not just any Accursed Shadow, either..."

He raised a forehoof and pointed it at her. "...That was jour Accursed Shadow, unicornio. Jour own dark reflection personal."

‘What the buck?!’

"Mine?! Whaddya mean, mine?"

Before he could answer, another voice spoke out from behind him.

"Your shadow follows you wherever you go, unicorn. Even here, on the Moon."

Rocinante, the sick batpony Eclipse who had gotten so agitated when Lily was first introduced but had been sleeping all this time, was sitting up beside Aldonza. He wasn’t wearing his mask, though, and all Lily could see when she looked at his dark face were a pair of milky-white eyes and wrinkled lips concealing jagged teeth. Speaking with a hoarse and raspy voice, he continued in a surprisingly mild accent.

"Ignacio found her, and he pulled her through, but he held her true power at bay."

The unmasked Eclipse turned towards Ignacio. "This is the initiation that all Eclipse receive. That is why he brought you here. Even the surface of the Moon is too noisy. Only here, deep underground, are things quiet enough to spy into the other realm, and hear the hissing of an individual particular. Only here, could he draw forth and show you your own Accursed Shadow."

Lily glanced over at Ignacio. "Is that true?"

He nodded. "Jes..."

Turning back towards his sick-family member, Ignacio ‘watched’ as Aldonza helped Rocinante lie back down, before he whispered under his breath. "When he is lucid, Rocinante is still the greatest of us all. He was a Balladeer of Ghosts as well, a puppeteer of the sand for the Stars, and a better one than I will ever be."

Shaking his head regretfully as the sick batpony returned to sleep, Ignacio returned to face Lily.

"This is the initiation rite of the Eclipse, unicornio. The journey into the deepest part of the Halls of the Blind, the meal with the elders, and then the revelation. I have performed it many times already before."

The Balladeer of Ghosts extended a hoof towards her, and she considered drawing back away from him, but then decided to allow the contact. He pressed his forehoof on her left shoulder, and then the right, then planted it against her pectoral armor, holding it there for a while, as if sensing something.

After a few moments, he spoke. "Jou have faced jour Accursed Shadow and survived intact. Jou have not succumbed to the possession and become an abominación."

‘POSSESSION was a bucking possibility here?!’

‘Why the buck didn't he say so in the first place!’

Lowering his forehoof, he inhaled deeply, his nostrils flaring. "This was the lesson for today. The next time, we will see if jou also can open the veil, and do so safely."

He grinned that sly little grin of his. "I think that you can, for we know that this power is not restricted to the Children, although safety is another matter..."

With a hard chuckle, he began to slowly shuffle up the bowl-shaped cave floor towards the dark entranceway, and his crutch leaning beside it. "After all, it was the Princess Luna who first breached the other realm a thousand jears ago and drew out her own dark reflection, binding it within herself to become our Gran Madre, the Nightmare Moon."

‘WHAT?!’

Chapter 111

València Fierropezuña

València Fierropezuña, Fourth rank of the Temple of the Righteous Hatchets, felt her stomach turning upside-down. As if everything else that had happened recently wasn't enough, now Marcos, a Sixth rank of the Swarming Meteors, had been imprisoned for violating the Great Mother's Edict of Blood, a law which forbade Child-against-Child bloodshed except in supervised training situations. In doing so he also disobeyed his own mother, Carmen, to whom until now he had appeared fervently loyal.

But Carmen had recently ordered that the Royal Engineer and his group be allowed unmolested access to the Rookery. A group which included her own daughter, Pureza -- that treacherous cave-viper -- apparently now restored to Her Reverence's good graces.

Nothing made sense.

Well, maybe not nothing. Marcos' violation, at least, was a little understandable. After all, wasn't it the Reverend Mother Superior herself who ordered that the Rookery be kept absolutely closed to Equestrians? And who, after Pureza disobeyed her orders to go into service for that surface-Lord, demanded also that her comings and goings be strictly controlled? And who was widely believed to have secretly instructed Marcos to slander her name and call for her ostracism, if not her blood?

Well… Maybe rumors were just rumors.

València heard a number of hoofsteps growing closer; and one of them had five 'hooves.'

‘Hmm…’

Perhaps she’d learn the truth of it soon enough.

From behind her desk, she witnessed the entrance of Carmen Ébanoscudo, Reverend Mother Superior of the Children of the League of Stars, to the foyer of the Hatcheteers' Oubliette, flanked by half a dozen hooded Lunar acolytes. Immediately, València and her squad all stood up to bow in respect.

It was a bit surprising to see her here already; València would have thought she'd let Marcos stew for a day or two before coming to call on him in prison. But maybe this little visit had to do with the Meteors who came looking for their comrades, earlier.

Clutching her tall, crescent-topped staff, Mother Carmen stared at València from behind her white-powdered face.

«I will see Marcos, Sixth of Meteors, immediately.»

With all those Equestrians running around everywhere in the Rookery tonight, it was a relief to be in the exclusive presence of Children again, liberated from the Edict of Tongues, and able to converse in their native language.

Exchanging glances with her two Threes, València raised her head and then bowed again. «Yes, Your Reverence. This way, please.»

After she unlocked the iron gate which barred access further in, one of her Threes pulled it open, and València waited for Her Reverence to enter before following the Reverend Mother through. She turned to wait while the door was locked behind them.

València waved a wing in the direction of Marcos' cell, and Carmen gave her the slightest of nods.

«I will follow thee, Fourth of Hatcheteers. Lead the way.»

«Yes, Reverence.»

Moving on to the cells, València couldn’t read anything in her impassive face.

Which meant she must be absolutely furious. No doubt then that this visit was prompted by the Meteors, who must have interrupted Carmen's precious schedule.

Once València led Carmen to her son, would Her Reverence order her back to the foyer? If Carmen didn’t, she may have the chance to listen in on what could be some very juicy gossip.

Travelling down the wide corridor, València passed cell after cell. Most of them were empty; there wasn't a lot of crime in the Rookery worth imprisoning ponies over. Far easier to hold them just long enough to have them shipped back to the Moon, where they could be dealt with properly.

There was much less stringent enforcement of the Great Mother's edicts up there.

As a result of that, the Hatcheteers' Oubliette here on the home-world, under the mountain of Canterlot, hardly saw much use at all -- which was why València’s Six had to pull her and her squad off of its regular market duty rotation to take up station here. Nonetheless, for as fearsome a Star as the Sixth of Meteors, procedures still had to be followed. There was not for him the plain benches of the open holding area, as used for drunkards spending the day sleeping off their liquor, or quarrelsome Rocks who took to their hooves over some petty incident. Nor a simple bed in an ordinary cell, as for thieves who would serve out their weeks or months. The Righteous Hatcheeters had something special for dangerous offenders who committed equally dangerous crimes.

At the end of the corridor, a hinged, heavy steel grate in the floor was held in place by a thick metal rod. A chain, wound on a windlass, hung through a gap in the grate and down into the pit beneath, while an ordinary rope on another winch looped up through a pulley in the ceiling before tying up between the bars of the grate.

«He is in there, Reverence. Shall I open up the cell?»

Carmen looked down her muzzle at the hole in the ground. «Yes. And bar the door behind me.»

That was standard procedure, but the Reverend Mother could have asked for something different, if she wanted to. And València would have granted it; after all, Marcos was in no condition to cause any trouble, let alone escape.

It took her a moment to push the heavy iron rod out of its receivers, unlocking the door. Then she began to work away at the windlass, raising the floor hatch up slowly. Once it was open wide enough to enter, Carmen approached the edge, then opened her wings and stepped right off into the darkness. With an enviable grace, she floated almost straight down to the bottom of the pit, still clutching her ceremonial staff.

València peered over into the black hole, and watched as Carmen stepped up to her son, who was suspended upside-down, wrapped in and strung up by the chain supplied by the second winch. After confirming Her Reverence’s arrival, València pulled a lever to switch the ratchet mechanism the other way, then worked the windlass with her hooves in reverse.

The metal grate settled back into place with a deep clung.

Still not having heard a word from the pit, she pushed the iron locking bar back into place.

‘Well?’

‘Are they going to speak at all?’

València took up a position beside the door, facing sideways and away.

Maybe Carmen was going to order the Four back to the foyer before she scolded her son.

«Wake up, Marcos.»

‘Or maybe not…’

Suggested background music: Hans Zimmer - 'Progeny', from 'Gladiator' [2000]
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HEdBrKMyOW8

València heard a groan, and the chains rattled as Marcos struggled to wake.

«Mother. You have come for me.»

She heard the Reverend Mother sniff.

«I have not come here as thy mother, Sixth of Meteors. Thou shalt address me properly.»

There was a delay while Marcos considered what that meant.

He replied calmly, with an understandable weariness to his voice. «Reverend Mother Superior, to what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?»

València snuck a sideways glance back down, and saw Carmen circling her suspended progeny, slowly pacing with her staff in hoof. «Stars are supposed to bow to Lunars, Sixth of Meteors, but I suppose an exception can be made, given the circumstances.»

Marcos closed his eyes. «If Your Reverence wishes for me to bow, then she needs only command the Hatcheeters, and I can be made free to do so.»

Carmen returned to meet Marcos face-to-face.

«No, I do not think I will be doing that.» She inhaled through her nose, her nostrils flaring. «Thou hast not yet learned thy lesson, Marcos.»

That riled up her son's notorious temper. «I was carrying out YOUR orders!»

But his outburst didn’t faze her at all, and she got right up in his upside-down muzzle. «Old orders, Marcos. Old orders when thou hadst new ones to follow instead.»

Ah, so the rumors were true. It wasn't just hatred which fuelled the calumnies he had been spouting.

Or maybe it was, and he just needed her permission.

Carmen stepped away, and the Six called out after her. «Am I a spinning top, to turn immediately in whichever direction your Reverence orders?»

She noisily tapped the base of her staff against the floor, silencing him. «Thou art a Star, Marcos. Thy purpose is to obey and to enforce the laws; the laws set by the Lunars.»

That was true. It was something drilled into every Star from the moment they were chosen to enter that Phase. But he was not done arguing with her.

«Even when the laws make no sense?! First you order me to hate my sister, then you order me to embrace her?»

The Reverend Mother Superior looked coolly over her shoulder at the ranting, dangling Star.

«And LOOK at what she has done to me!»

València had witnessed that for herself already. As nasty a piece of amputation as she’d ever heard of, ripping his eye out like that. Not that she hadn't seen worse in the Grand Hall, but injuries from training didn't last long. Marcos had still been moaning in pain when they dragged him in, and those initial jail-keepers had taken unusual care to lower him slowly down into the pit, instead of just punting him off the edge on a slack chain, as was tradition. Nopony wanted to be the one responsible for telling Carmen that the Great Mother must have willed his death, if his neck had somehow snapped -- as often happened -- or if his head had cracked open from swinging against the walls -- as also often happened. Nor did anypony have any illusions about how long Marcos would stay down there, given his lineage. But from where València sat, that lineage was not looking like much of an asset.

Carmen stepped forward to examine her daughter's blade-work, leaning her staff against her shoulder before grabbing Marcos' head in her forehooves, turning him left and right. Then she let him go, the chain swinging slightly thanks to the force she’d imparted.

«Thou shouldst be grateful, Marcos. Given her profession, it is a wonder that she left thee alive.»

València remembered her own brush with the Stellar Seven. She hadn't backed down when the Four confronted her at Carmen's orders. Instead, she'd shoved back, and called València’s bluff. Having now seen the results of what should have been an even more lopsided fight in favor of the Meteors, she was secretly glad to have lost her nerve that day. Pureza with her three Equestrians and an alien monkey-biped, plus two Stellar initiates, utterly destroying fourteen Meteors? For València to have challenged them with her smaller squad of Hatcheteers would have indeed been a complete massacre, as Pureza had claimed.

However, Carmen's pithy statement didn’t put a stop to Marcos' complaints.

«Grateful!? For this? And that renegade Eclipse, Ignacio, refused to heal me! I tell you, he is in league with her, mother.»

WHAP

With blinding speed, Carmen slapped his head using one of her wings-arms, her cloak billowing outwards on one side from the sudden rush of air. València couldn’t resist turning even further back to get a good look at the expression on his face: shock, with more than a hint of indignant rage.

There was a white line where the powder from Carmen’s wing-tip was deposited on his cheek. She’d even slapped him on his injured side. That had to sting. If he wasn't bound in chains right now, who knew what he'd try to do?

The Reverend Mother Superior kept her own expression calm. «Do not address me casually again. Thou hast greatly inconvenienced me this evening, and I may humor thy questions, but I will not tolerate thy disrespect.»

Seething, Marcos struggled to keep his emotions under control. Even in the shadows cast by the bars of the grate, València could see his nostrils flare repeatedly, and he spoke through clenched teeth.

«Your Reverence has come here only to scold and taunt me, then?»

She looked idly up at the crescent moon topping her staff.

«No, as a matter of fact that is not my purpose here.»

Then she fixed her son in her gaze once more. «Thy Eight seeks an audience with thee. He has invoked the privilege of Consultation. Doubtless he will wish to invoke the privilege of Judgement as well.»

Not much of a surprise there. Criminal Stars who were still in good standing with their Schools would often be removed from the Hacheteer's oubliette, to be punished by their own masters; usually more gently. But likewise would those embarrassments to the Stars also be removed, only to be treated more harshly by their peers than they would have been under Lunar judgement. It was a system that generally kept the Stars in line, ensuring that the Hatcheteers' oubliette was host only to Rocks, Dust, and Shadows instead.

Yet if he wasn't chained up, València was sure Marcos would have shrugged at Carmen's suggestion. «So? Let him come. I have no secrets from my master. And I trust he will judge me fairly.»

At that, his mother laughed. «And let my word be made a mockery of in the Rookery here? Thou, who hast assaulted one of my honored guests, only to be released into the custody of thy Temple a day later? No, I will not be embarrassed thusly.»

The Meteor grinned weakly. «Your Reverence does not appear to have much choice in the matter.»

Surprisingly, the Reverend Mother Superior smiled back at him. Sitting down on her haunches, she leaned forward and stroked his cheek with a forehoof.

«Indeed I do not, my dear son.» The smile turned sinister. «But thou dost.»

A firm pat turned into a forceful push, and now the Sixth of Meteors was swinging back and forth in front of her, a pendulum between the walls of the pit.

«Thou hast a very important choice to make, Marcos. An easygoing trial by thy own peers is a right that thy Eight may grant thee.»

With a pained grunt, he went whooshing past in front of her again.

«But regaining thy second eye -- now, that is a privilege which only I may grant.»

She extended a forehoof in front of her, and he swung right into it, slamming into her hoof with his injured cheek, and causing the chains to jingle angrily at this abrupt halt.

«Agh!»

‘Yeah, she's pissed, all right.’

But Marcos should have known better than to go against her standing orders, whatever she may have told him before.

While her immobilized son groaned in agony, Carmen ran her forehoof all over his face. «Where did we go wrong, Marcos? Thou wert always such an obedient young colt, even though thou belongest to another House. Was it my mistake to unleash thee against thy sister, not knowing that thou wouldst refuse the collar anew?»

‘Oh, now it's getting spicy!’

Thrashing furiously against his restraints, Marcos almost snarled out at her. «She is a black stain upon our family! And upon all our kind!»

Casually, Carmen placed a hoof up on his chest and pushed him away, starting another swinging motion, fore-and-aft this time. «Truly thou hatest her, Marcos? I cannot fathom the honor-bound minds of the Stars, but the reason for thy contempt escapes me.»

As he passed her by, she called inquisitively after him. «Surely it cannot merely because of her singular betrayal of my orders last month, though I certainly would appreciate such sympathetic disappointment.»

Marcos swung by again, and she folded one foreleg over the other, tapping her chin in reflection. «Is it because she chose the School of the Shining Stellar Dance? A Star-school which is unlike any of the others, and which follows its own code, different from thy own?»

That right there accounted for a lot of València’s own disgust for Pureza and her ilk. A bunch of scheming, mercenary assassins had no place among the honorable Stars who fought for House, School, and the Children as a whole. Not to mention their near-heretical, but tolerated, view on what it meant to serve the Great Mother.

Carmen lowered her hooves, continuing. «But that hardly seems enough to provoke such murderous impulses as thou hast displayed. Could it be instead because of her proclivities, having been liberated by virtue of age from the demands of her House? The self-consciousness of a concerned brother?»

Carmen shook her head to nopony in particular. «Yet this seems absurd as well, though perhaps understandable if thou wert a follower of a puritanical creed.»

She turned away from her swinging son, nodding her head. «...Ahh... And Reverend Mother Teresa espoused puritanism, did she not?»

That was an understatement. Reverend Mother Teresa was not of València’s House, but everypony knew of her legendary conservatism. In her mind, the Reconquista was to be a war of extermination, with the Equestrians not merely crushed underhoof, but wiped out or reduced to chattel. If she was the one in charge down here, Pureza would have already been burned at the stake for miscegenation. Which was why it was hard to imagine the Canterlot Rookery existing at all, under the rule of Teresa. Carmen, on the other hoof, was that rare breed of Lunar with militant determination, but also an adaptive agenda.

Once more, the Reverend Mother Superior extended a hoof to stop Marcos' motion, but this time she did so gently, bringing him to a halt just in front of her, muzzle to muzzle. The singular eye of the Sixth of Meteors was open wide, and filled to the brim with contempt.

«Is this why thou detestest thy sister, son of my womb? Not because of what Pureza has done to you, but because of what she did for me? And because of what that meant for thy own beloved Reverend Mother Teresa, and the Great House of thy father?»

He remained completely silent, and she leaned in even closer, lowering her head to see him eyes-to-eye, and forehead-to-muzzle. «Thy hatred for her is merely thy hatred for me, Marcos, projected and transferred by the fact that thou art sworn to serve me by virtue of my rank.»

Hunching down further, she pushed forward, speaking into his left ear, cheek-to-cheek. «But know this, Marcos. When the Great Mother returned to us two years ago, there could be only one House of Houses, one Reverence of Reverences. And the others would never bow down to that majordomo willingly.»

She turned and kissed him gently on the cheek, just below his ruined eye. «For the suffering it has caused thee, I regret that my deal with thy father sent thee to his House instead of mine. But if it had not been House Cadena de Vapores which triumphed over the others and elevated me to Reverend Mother Superior, it would have been another. The blood spilled on the Day of the Dancing Blades was always fated to be sacrificed in the name of the Great Mother, regardless of the precise victims or victors. In thy heart of hearts, Marcos, thou knowest that this was our destiny.»

That much was probably true. Under her leadership, House Cadena de Vapores had become the wealthiest of all the Great Houses. She was cunning in her deal-making, unusually gentle in her treatment of the Rocks and lower Phases, and ruthless when it came time to rely upon the Stars. It was said that she was also liberal in the personal application of Lunar delights when it came to diplomatic problems. Everypony knew that it was by her will that a considerable portion of her House's great wealth had been transferred to the School of the Shining Stellar Dance, as payment to have them write the name of every other Great House's Reverend Mother in their bloody little 'guest-book.' And she had also correctly calculated the date of the Great Mother's awakening, striking just when the iron was hot.

The night after the bloodbath, their Goddess found only a single House not headless and in disarray. A single house, and a single Reverend Mother, worthy of carrying the Moon-and-Star banner to Equestria.

València could only imagine how that epic meeting must have played out...

Did Carmen Ébanoscudo show contrition for once in her life, bowing before the Goddess of the Children, or did she revel proudly in her victory, even under the blinding gaze of the Great Mother Herself? Regardless, it had been a stunning coup, and whatever hatred València had for Pureza Ébanoscudo and her band of treacherous assassins, there was no denying their efficacy.

At last, Marcos found the words to answer his mother. «Yes, Reverence. That was our destiny. And our destiny it was also to rule over the home world, above all the Equestrians.»

He sneered. «Yet now Your Reverence would have us grovel before them, and worship their Gods and Lords as our own.»

Carmen sighed. «Marcos, Marcos. How little thou understandest. Dost thy Eight inform thee whenever he eats or drinks? Dost thou have his full schedule of comings and goings? Dost he apprise thee even of his urinations and defecations?»

The Meteor only furrowed his brow in response, so she continued. «No? Then do not presume to be privy to my plans, Sixth of Meteors. I am not compelled to speak them to thy ears.»

Marcos scoffed. «Plans? What plans? I see only idle Stars who grow feeble and weary, longing to attack the surface-born but denied every opportunity.»

Now it was Carmen's turn to scoff -- to laugh, even, throwing her head back in riotous amusement. «To attack? Hahaha! Oh really, Marcos, art thou so dense?»

Still chuckling, she raised a modest forehoof to conceal her titters. «Attack Equestrians, with not one, but two immortal Princesses to guard them? Attack them now, when even without their Princess Celestia, and with our Great Mother at our side, you Stars could not take just one fortified tower?»

The laughter turned to rage.

«That was all the Great Mother asked, and yet the Stars nonetheless disappointed her! One tiny tower that would have become a dagger in the heart of our enemies! What might have been if thy ilk had not so bungled this task? Perhaps we might even still have our Great Mother to lead us.»

Loudly, she tapped the butt of her staff on the ground. «Go and take a horchata in the marketplace if thou truly believest in such fantasies as this. Ask Alcazar how the assault ground to a stalemate, and then again how that stalemate became a rout, once our Great Mother was defeated and the Equestrians had the backing of their Princess once more.»

She turned away in disgust, and Marcos reflected on her words a moment before answering. «Better to fight and die a glorious death, than to live on in ignominy.»

Carmen turned and snapped back at him, nodding sarcastically. «Thou canst ask this of Alcazar as well, Marcos, and learn of his opinion in the matter. I have kept him around as a reminder to troublemakers such as thee; clearly, I must order him to be more proactive in his efforts. Perhaps I should have him un-muzzled so that the lessons will be received loudly and clearly, even at the cost of morale.»

Exhaling loudly through her nostrils, she transferred her staff from one shoulder to the other and stepped over to him once more. «The position we find ourselves in is not conducive to a military victory, Marcos. A Star should understand this. A Star should know when it is wise to retreat, to submit, or to disperse. A Star should know to wait for the correct opportunity to strike.»

Marcos thrashed his head back and forth with a surprising violence, struggling against the chains. «Wait and grow weaker? And what opportunity will we ever get again?»

Carmen raised one of her wing arms as if to strike him again, but only shook her head angrily. «None, if thou continuest to thwart my plans.»

With a healthy disdain for the threatened swipe, Marcos looked away. «Again, the talk of plans. What plans? Your Reverence has no plans.»

The Reverend Mother Superior sighed. «Thou hast been a Six for five years now, Marcos, and yet still thou hast not risen to Seven. I used to be disappointed in Pureza for having foolishly allowed her own Master to survive when she was already his better, and then again when he died yet she did not claim the position of Eight, but at least she rules her Temple with none above her! While thou festerest in thy own 'ignominy.’»

That painful verbal sting got Marcos to pay attention again, and Carmen lowered her staff, levelling the pointed tips of the crescent moon with his face, supporting it with one extended forehoof, before she slowly extended it forward towards his one remaining eye.

«Listen well, flesh of my womb, and repeat not a word unless thou wishest to join the ranks of the Shadows. The solution to our predicament is not to be found here, in our Rookery under the mountain, nor is it to be found on the Moon. If there is a means to rid ourselves of the Princess of the Sun, and another to restore our Great Mother, and another to waylay the Elements of Harmony, then those means are to be found on the surface world, in Equestria, the land of magic itself.»

Gritting her teeth, she continued, the crescent only a hair's width away from poking one of its sharp tips into his good eye. «We have precious little access to the surface, and yet there much to be done without exposing ourselves. This is why I barred the Rookery to outsiders, to keep our secrets our own. But the Royal Engineer, previously an unwelcome pest, now presents an opportunity that we cannot ignore.»

She smiled. «He confers with our Rocks, and asks them for help in building an iron-foundry on the surface world. He needs their help up there; their advice and assistance. Think of it, Marcos -- Children coming and going from the Rookery at all hours of the day and night. A doubling, tripling, or more, of opportunities to escape the prying eyes of our watchers and handlers in the Royal Undermountain Constabulary. A wealth of time to seek out the tools and information we require.»

Marcos didn’t look convinced. «Your Reverence truly believes this scheme will work?»

Her smile grew wider, and she raised her staff up and away. «I know that it will. Even with our limited access, we have already made contact with one group that shows great promise.»

‘Really?’

‘Who?’

Marcos echoed València’s questions. «Who are these would-be allies?»

Carmen shrugged. «Equestrians of limited morals, who chafe under the benign and benevolent dictatorship of the Sun. They will be easily swayed to our side with a few baubles now and the promise of greater rewards and freedoms later. And they have great magical powers that will prove most useful to us.»

Typical plan coming from Carmen. Buy themselves some powerful allies, then strike from the shadows when nopony expects it. Not very honorable, but why screw with a winning formula? It was why she's in the position she's in, after all.

The Reverend Mother Superior lowered her forehooves back down to the ground, idly brushing some unseen spec of dust off of her white cloak. «I am not asking thee to embrace thy sister, Marcos. Only to leave her and her entourage alone, for now.»

He narrowed his eyes. «And Your Reverence also wishes me to refuse my Eight?»

She pursed her lips and furrowed her brow. «Refuse? No, no, Marcos. Thou shalt express to him thy contrition for thy deeds, and beg to be subjected to the justice of the Lunars. Thou shalt be remorseful and apologetic. And then, at my bidding, thou shalt spend a few days here in the oubliette, before being released on thy own recognisance.»

«What of my eye? When will Your Reverence order it restored?»

She shrugged. «Perhaps a week or two after thy parole. Enough time to prove thy humility and thy obedience in the opinion of the Rookery.»

She inhaled deeply, looking around the black cell. «Oh, and I suppose I may also involve thee in some aspect of the plan, now that thou knowest of it. I do dislike to leave a thread loose and hanging.»

Stepping forward, she met the Sixth of Meteors muzzle-to-muzzle once more. «Thou needst not make thy choice this instant, Marcos. Think on my offer, and make thy choice when thy Eight comes to see thee. Speakest thou to him as I have instructed, and thy future is assured. Or goest thou with him, and take thy chances remaining a cyclops.»

Chuckling, she grinned. «Or tellest thou him my plan, if it pleases thee, and make thyself mine enemy, instead of merely mine disappointment.»

Carmen leaned in further, placing her lips against his left ear. «But knowest thou this, Marcos, my son. Thy Eight may trust thee and honor thee, and thou likewise him, but he does not love thee as I do. He can never love thee, not truly, in the manner that only a mother can love her child.»

Pulling away from his ear, she rose up and slowly, gently kissed him on his closed lips.

Once... twice...

Marcos stared back at Carmen, wide-eyed and tight-lipped. València was terrified of being caught spying on Her Reverence, but she couldn't look away.

The third time she pressed forwards, Marcos closed his eyes, opening his mouth to receive hers, and that kiss lasted longest of all, with several after-thoughts. Finally, she pulled back her muzzle, and València could see white powder-marks on Marcos' face from where their muzzles met; the dim overhead lighting catching the glint of moisture nearby as well.

«Thou wilt make the correct choice, my son. Suffer a little now, for greatness awaits thee in the future.»

Stepping back, Mother Carmen inhaled deeply before calling up to the Four. «Open the cell, Hatcheteer. I am finished here.»

València diligently stepped over to the windlass and began cranking it with her forehooves, raising the grate. As soon as it was wide enough, the Reverend Mother Superior came fluttering up out of Marcos' cell like a delicate, white-robed moth.

The Hatcheteer flipped the ratchet-lever and worked to lower the grate once more.

Finally, with Marcos sealed in his cell and Carmen out of it, València began to escort Her Reverence back to the foyer.

The unquestioned ruler of her people spoke as they walked together.

«The Hatcheteers are said to see all and hear all, but to never repeat what they observe except by lawful command.»

València nodded her head.

‘Of course she's going to give me this talk.’

Despite València’s attempt to appear ignorant, they hadn't exactly been quiet. The Reverend Mother knew full well she witnessed everything that happened in the cell.

«Yes, Your Reverence.»

Carmen turned her head up slightly. «It would be a terrible shame if this most vaunted and honorable reputation was lost.»

València was only a few hoofsteps away from the entrance to the oubliette. Pausing before the iron gate, which was still locked from their earlier entrance, she bowed to the Reverend Mother.

«I understand completely, Your Reverence.»

Carmen smiled. «Good. When the day comes that the Moon triumphs over the Sun, I will have need of such loyal and diligent Stars to ensure the continued submission of our surface-born cousins. And at that moment I will think back to thy service, València Fierropezuña.»

‘Well, at least she's not just threatening me, but also promising rewards for keeping my muzzle shut.’

València gave a quick nod to one of her Threes, who began to unlock the door. Then she bowed again in acknowledgement to Carmen.

«Yes, Your Reverence.»

As the metal portcullis creaked open on its heavy hinges, the Reverend Mother Superior rejoined her entourage of white-robed Lunar acolytes, speaking over her shoulder as she departed. «The Eighth of Meteors will arrive here soon. You will allow him to speak with his Six, but he is not to enter the cell.»

‘Interesting tactic. What, is she afraid the Eight will passionately kiss her son as she herself just did?’

Or maybe she just didn’t want him to notice her makeup on Marcos' lips.

«Yes, Your Reverence.»

With a tiny nod of acknowledgement, the Lunars departed. Moments later, València’s Threes, Twos, and junior Ones crowded around her.

«What happened, Val?»

«Yeah, what did they talk about?»

«Did she give him a real tongue-lashing?»

«Or did she rip out his other eye?»

València shook her head. «I cannot speak of it, at least not yet.»

Sighing, she returned to her seat in front of the watch-officer's desk.

«All I know is that nothing makes sense anymore.»

Chapter 112

Artemis Sparkshower

Specialist Artemis Sparkshower was tired.

Not quite 'flying all night to scout possible Changeling hive locations' tired, as she had been around that time last year, but this day and evening had worn her out. And even during that challenging mission during the Invasion, the one which garnered her an early promotion to specialist, Artemis hadn't been subjected to quite such an exhausting variety of experiences.

Penetrating into territory conclusively known to be inhabited by hostile aliens!

Defending herself and her VIP against an underground ambush!

Confronting shadow-demons from another dimension!

Going to the Moon!

Trying a delicious new kind of bean stew!

It was a lot to deal with.

To say nothing of the work she’d done earlier in the day: more practice-firing sessions of the Royal Engineer's Self Propelled Air Defense carriage. But in spite of how worn out she felt, she got the feeling that the rest of her four-pony-and-one-very-important-pony-who-isn't-actually-a-pony group was feeling it even more. Which was saying something, considering that Sergeant Ebonshield was operating in native terrain among her own kind, and Corporal Bound was an Earth Pony with magical stamina, while the Royal Engineer had so far been indefatigable.

Glamerspear's complete exhaustion, at least, Artemis understood. In addition to performing earlier in the day, her unicorn comrade had energetically contributed the most to the fight against Eb's brother Marcos, and without the aid of a powerful and ancient magical artifact as the pegasus possessed. Then after that harrowing encounter, she'd been dealt repeated shocks by the batpony sorcerer Ignacio's revelations.

Though to be fair, what he'd said had been shocking to Artemis, too. To think that just a few steps down in the Rookery could take her to another world! Not to mention his throwaway comment about what happened a thousand years ago -- which he'd flatly refused to elaborate on further today, much to her comrade's frustration.

But when Lily's expression turned to abject horror as the Balladeer of Ghosts explained the inner workings of the 'Eclipse Phase' magic powers, Artemis knew that that particular piece of information had hit the unicorn a lot harder than it did herself. With her understanding of magic, his talk of 'accursed shadows' from another realm must've meant something more.

As terrifying as the encounter with one of those shadows had been -- especially after learning it was her comrade's own extradimensional dark cousin -- Artemis wasn't quite sure she saw the difference between summoning shadows and whatever it was unicorns did with their magic.

But Lily did.

And she wasn't happy.

The pegasus could see her trying to come to grips with the problem, plodding along with her head hung low, her ears folded back, and her hooves heavy and slow. She hadn't even had the energy to put on those magical grip-slippers while traversing the mist-slick tiles of the Rookery's 'Cave of Pillars.'

Leaving Lily to her thoughts, Artemis looked ahead at Sergeant Ebonshield, still leading the group. Unlike the unicorn, the batpony was holding her head up high, striding confidently, and on their way out of the Rookery chatted amiably with the Royal Undermountain Constabulary's duty officer at the orchard checkpoint. But she spotted a lethargy in Purity’s eyes, a slowness to react to new visual sensations that pointed to her wrestling with her own frustrations. As friendly as the sergeant could be, she didn't often volunteer information about herself, so Artemis wasn't sure what exactly was weighing on her mind, but the pegasus thought she had a pretty good guess.

The fight with her brother, Marcos.

It was clear that Purity had wanted to avoid the confrontation by any means possible. When Marcos made it clear there were no such means, other than what was effectively suicide, she refused to knuckle under, threatening him back instead. His subsequent declaration that he'd had her two adolescent students killed in their sleep had shaken her up even more.

Artemis had never seen her truly furious before then -- not even when accosted by the seething València Fierropezuña, the Hatcheteer border guard who hassled their group the first time they’d tried to enter the Rookery. That anger at Marcos continued to boil even when it was revealed that her students had survived their ambush to come and help them defeat theirs.

She took no pleasure in overcoming her brother's trap.

And as for what she did to him…

The way Marcos goaded her beforehoof and Ignacio chided her afterwards, it was either mutilate or kill him, and it had been clear that she relished neither option.

Strange.

Despite what she'd said about family structure among the batponies -- that they were so disconnected to the point that what an Equestrian would think of as a 'family' didn't seem to exist in their culture at all -- her brother must really mean something to her. That was the best explanation Artemis could come up with for Purity’s behaviour, outside of the even stranger suggestion that somepony from a school of mercenary assassins didn't like killing -- which would certainly be inconvenient, given her profession!

Though maybe that was true, too.

Artemis’ eyes turned towards the brown pony walking alongside their VIP. If Glamerspear's exhaustion was clear to her, and she felt she had a good hypothesis about what was going through Ebonshield's mind, the way Honour slowly but resolutely slogged her way up the shadowy, winding passageway from the Cave of Pillars left her completely in the dark. It was hard to distinguish the corporal’s current behaviour from her usual laconic attitude.

Nevertheless, there was a difference.

Like Ebonshield, Honour also kept her chin up, though unlike Ebonshield she seemed to still be fully alert and awake. Yet Artemis constantly caught her glancing down, or up at the Royal Engineer, or back at herself and Lily, like the corporal had something on her mind beyond just vacating the Rookery with all due haste. That was what Anonymous had asked for, anyways, when they’d all been joined back together again. No more training, no visit with the iron-workers tonight. Just back to the palace, and sleep.

Everypony had agreed.

So what was weighing so heavily on Honour's mind, then? It felt like it had to be something more specific than just some general unease about being in the Rookery -- especially since she didn't seem to relax at all after passing through the R.U.C. checkpoint. Something to do with what happened to her and the Royal Engineer in the 'Lunar Sanctuary,' maybe?

Nopony had yet spoken up about their experiences while their group of five was split in three, but now that they were out of danger and back on the surface, amongst the blooming trees of Her Majesty's Royal Apple Orchard with their flowers' sweet fragrance still in the air in spite being closed up for the night, maybe that could change.

Artemis cleared her throat. "Corporal, what was it like in the Lunar Sanctuary? How did it compare to the Grand Hall of Stars?"

Honour breathed in and out before answering, but before she opened her mouth, the sergeant spoke up. "We should not discuss such things outside at present. He is not yet three hours of the morning, and the Night Guard still patrols outdoors. Until we enter the palace proper, we may be overheard."

‘Oh…’

‘I hadn't even thought about that.’

Despite having twice entered into the home of the batponies who formed Canterlot's Night Guard, Artemis hadn't really drawn a mental association between the Rookery's black cloaked Star Phase warriors and the Palace's dusky and dark-armored nocturnal guardians. Don't-Ask-Don't-Tell had had a hoof in that mental disjunction, for sure. She wondered if there was a particular 'School' of Star-Phase batponies that provided most of the members for the overnight shift on the castle's defensive walls and gates, as well as night-fighting barrier combat air patrol above...

From Ebonshield's accusation towards her brother, it seemed that a few of their attackers might have been drawn from the ranks of soldiers who were supposed to be on duty this very night. Either they'd abandoned their posts halfway through the shift, or else they'd failed to report in at the start of it, so as to participate in his murderous ambush. The thought of members of the Night Guard committing either of those treasonous derelictions of duty really eroded her trust in what was supposed to just be the Royal Guard's nocturnal equivalent.

Which was not to say that Royal Guardsponies didn't also commit their own sins, but the ponies of the Household Division were held to the highest standards! A couple of crimes like that would get anypony bumped out or hauled before a military tribunal, for sure.

Then again, that Lunar priestess had ordered every one of Marcos' fallen 'Swarming Meteors' hauled off to prisons, as well as the ringleader himself. Maybe they'll be kicked off the rotation for the Night Guard as well.

They ought to be.

Or maybe she'd even send them back to the Moon!

That might be for the best.

With a heavy sigh, more from the suppressed conversation than from those newfound concerns about Canterlot Palace's night-time defenders, Artemis looked up towards her VIP. In appearance, he much more matched Glamerspear, wearing his exhaustion on his sleeve, with slouched shoulders and a ponderous gait. But he took it a step further.

He wore his helmet up off his head, as he usually did outside of battle, but his armor plate was loosened, the straps dangling and metal clattering with nearly every step. With his shield slung on his back, he lazily balanced his mace across one of his shoulders, trying to hold it level with a minimum of effort, but even so, found a constant need to shift it from one side to the other as the weight became too much to bear.

‘I ought to offer to carry it for him, if he’s that tired.’

It was her duty, after all. But the corporal hadn't said anything, and it really was her role to take the lead in that sort of matter. The real question was, what had drained him so much? Was it just because it was his first combat experience?

Artemis remembered how she felt after her first real encounter. The adrenaline had taken a while to wear off, and she was hyper-alert for hours afterwards, but once the crash came, it was sudden. Was he going through the same kind of emotional roller-coaster? Yet, even though he had energetically answered Marcos' challenge, the Royal Engineer didn't seem to have gotten particularly emotional during the fight. Instead, he'd kept his cool and treated the fight as mechanically as he treated his duties, ordering a non-lethal approach at the critical moment. It still couldn't have been easy for him, but if he didn't have a hormone-fuelled 'high,' how could this be the corresponding 'low'?

Was it, again, something that happened in the Sanctuary?

Maybe the same thing that was affecting Honour?

Just what did those Lunars say or do to them?

Passing between a pair of pegasi Royal Guards, who stood to attention when they spotted the Royal Engineer behind her, Ebonshield pulled open one of the Palace's exterior doors and admitted them all inside.

Despite now being safe from the Night Guard's prying ears, still nopony spoke up. Artemis decided not to force the issue, and continued to escort the Royal Engineer to his chambers, in silence.

‘Hmm…’

Wondering about what was distracting all of Artemis’ comrades was probably distracting her, too. She put their concerns out of her head so that at least one member of their quaternion would be ready in case anything happened.

But nothing did.

Not that it was likely to; nothing much at all ever happened inside of Canterlot Palace at almost three o'clock in the morning. Except maybe during the Grand Galloping Gala -- which was less than a week away! Anyways, even if there was a threat from the Rookery, the only batpony who was supposed to be in the palace was with them. The others were all flying or on guard duty outside, and from the stern expressions that the guardsponies at the RUC checkpoint gave her sergeant, Artemis got the impression that the Night Guard wasn't trusted to operate without RUC supervision either.

In short order, Ebonshield and Honour pushed open the Royal Engineer's chamber doors, and their VIP slowly sauntered in. After scratching his chin, he pulled off his helmet and set it down on one of his work benches. A moment later, his mace joined it with a dull thud.

Anonymous turned to look back at his quaternion. "Let's call it a night. We can discuss this evening's events tomorrow. And whoever's on the morning shift, don't bother showing up until ten or eleven at the earliest. If there's no answer to your knock, go back to bed. I think I might easily sleep until noon."

Corporal Bound nodded. "Yes, sir. Would you like any help removing your armor?"

Managing a weak smile, he grinned his retort. "I would, but you've all got your own to remove, and frankly I think we're all too exhausted for cooperation to yield any gains in efficiency. I'll manage to undress myself on my own, and then I'm going to literally fall onto my pillow. I recommend you all do the same. Good night."

With a dismissive wave of the hand, he turned and ambled towards the small chicane in the partition wall which blocked off his bedroom area from the rest of his chambers. Honour gave a nod, and they all exited the room, heading towards the staircase leading to the servants' rooms.

‘Falling into my pillow does sound pretty appealing...’

But, as the corporal picked up the pace slightly, Artemis got the impression that they were going to be denied that pleasant feeling a while longer. As soon as the sergeant opened the door to their quarters, Honour pointed her towards the washroom door.

"Sarge, why don't you take first dibs on cleaning up?"

Then she looked back at Sparkshower and Glamerspear. "I want to talk to these two before we all get settled in."

Artemis glanced over at Lily, but she seemed too tired to be concerned about the nature of this impending conversation. Instead, she was already busy undoing her helmet-straps.

Honour pointed a forehoof at the ground. "Sit down. This will only take a moment, but I want to get the record clear right now, okay?"

At first the corporal had Artemis’ attention; now Honour had her curiosity. She lowered her hindquarters onto her haunches and Lily did the same.

With a sigh, Honour fixed the two of them in her gaze. “Look, here's the deal, okay? The Royal Engineer and I had a chat in the sanctuary, when we were alone for a bit. Sparkshower--"

She pointed her right forehoof at the pegasus. "...What I told you last night about Anonymous not knowing about a mare's tuft was true. He also didn't know about wing-boners, or horn anteglows, or any of that kind of stuff."

Honour lifts that forehoof menacingly. "But he does now. Which means the next time you, Sparkshower, spread your wings for him, or you, Glamerspear, put on a light show, he may notice. I told him what they meant, and I told him both of you found him attractive."

Lily choked on her own spit.

"KKKFFG-- Celestia, Corporal! What the buck'd you do that for?"

Their squad's commander fixed the unicorn in her gaze. "Because it's true. Because he deserves to know the truth. Because I don't want him to become the butt end of jokes about his obliviousness to female signals. And because he honestly didn't think he was attractive to mares at all."

With her helmet removed and floating in the air beside her, held in a teal telekinetic glow, Glamerspear glanced sideways. "Well, he isn't... Not at first, anyways."

Honour nodded. "Yes, and I told him that, too. But the takeaway for you two is that the next time either of you 'shoes subtly hits on our friggin' VIP, he might actually pick up on it and flirt back."

Glamerspear snorted. "So?"

Exasperated, Honour forcefully prodded her armored forehoof into the unicorn's peytral. "So, you'd better be bucking serious about it, because playtime is over."

Despite the saboted jostling, Glamerspear snorted even harder, grinning and furrowing her brow. "Sounds to me like playtime is just beginning. But if you're going to warn us against the consequences of promiscuity, why the buck did you send Ebonshield into the washroom beforehoof? She's the one who buckin' propositioned Anonymous flat-out."

Honour lowered her forehoof back down to the ground. "Yes, she did, but she made her intentions clear. Knowing those intentions, he turned her down. But just because he now knows what signs a mare can give him, it doesn't mean he knows what her intentions are. That means he's now in a more dangerous position, and I don't want him to get hurt by one of his own bucking guardsmares playing games with his heart, understand?"

After a moment, Glamerspear's grin disappeared, and she nodded. "Yeah, okay. Fair enough. No games without actually making sure he's game for 'em."

Honour turned to Artemis, raising an eyebrow. "Sparkshower, the Royal Engineer knows and appreciates the situation you're in. Even if he had recognized your flirting, he would have deliberately tried to avoid scooping you up on the rebound from your break-up. So stop taking out your current frustrations by hitting on him, okay?"

Artemis nodded, remorseful. It really had been an impulsive move to try sticking her tuft out at him, hadn't it? And after such a caring, tender conversation where he'd been so sympathetic and tried to offer so much help...

"Yes, Corporal... I understand."

She looked glumly down at the ground, and after a moment Honour sighed and gently grabbed her muzzle in two hooves, raising it up to look her in the eyes. "Look, I don't think it's a good idea while you're his bodyguard, but you are your own mare and you can make your own decisions. I'm just saying you've got to get yourself sorted out before he treats any attention from you as serious. He's a proper gentlecolt, and he's been through a bad break-up himself. He knows what it's like."

Artemis nodded again. "I know, Corporal. We talked about that. And I do think he's a fine colt." Shrugging, she extended her wings to the floor, and awkwardly rubbed her left forehoof against the opposite shoulder. "But you're right, I was really only sticking my tuft out at Anonymous because I was lonely, and he was available."

She sighed, shaking her head. If Anonymous had noticed her tuft and said or done something about it, that sure could have gone awfully wrong -- just like when she’d stomped on the Bradamante Lance's stirrup without pointing it in a safe direction first. There were still a few tender spots on her body from that battering the ground gave her.

"You don't have to worry about me doing it again. I won't until I'm good and over my last relationship, and even then not unless I'm sure about what I'm doing."

Honour lowered her forehooves and nodded. "That's all I'm asking for."

‘Good to know that that's settled.’

After an awkward moment in silence, the washroom door opened and Ebonshield emerged, having splashed some water on her muzzle. "Specialist Glamerspear, I think you should go next. I wish to speak a moment with the Caporal before we go to bed."

‘Does that mean she wants me to leave, or...?’

Stepping over as Lily entered the washroom and shut the door, the sergeant continued. "Specialist Sparkshower, you may remain if you wish. This is not a conversation private."

Honour furrowed her brow. "It might be. I have a couple of questions I want to ask you, too, Sergeant. I noticed a few things in the Rookery tonight, and I think you owe me some answers. Maybe they'll be uncomfortable."

‘Huh?’

‘What did Corporal Bound notice that I didn't?’

Suggested background music: Brian Eno - 'Prophecy Theme', from 'Dune' [1984]
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m4SwFhfNh1w

Ebonshield took a deep breath, but smiled as she sat down on her haunches near the pegasus, facing Honour. "Ah? You are the senior soldier, so please, go first. And I will have no discomfort."

The corporal licked her lips, fixing the batpony in her gaze. "You said you were the Seventh, the second-from-the-top rank in your 'Temple' or 'School' of assassins, beneath only your Eighth, 'Draxon'."

Ebonshield bowed her head. "Yes, this is correct."

Honour glanced away, flexing her jaw, then returned to stare at the sergeant. "Reverend Sister Lucretia let it slip tonight that Master Draxon is dead."

Artemis saw the batpony's vertical slit eyes momentarily pulse open wide. "She did?"

Honour nodded. "Yes. Right after you told her what had happened in the Grand Hall. Maybe you were still a bit distracted from what was going on, but I noticed."

‘That's true!’

Artemis remembered it now, as well. Ebonshield glanced over towards the pegasus, as if seeking confirmation -- which she duly supplied. "Yes, that's correct. The Lunar priestess said that Master Draxon would have 'saluted you, if he were still with us.'"

She saw a bulge behind Ebonshield's mouth as she ran her tongue over her teeth. The confirmation wasn't what she wanted; she wanted the denial.

Finally, the batpony shrugged her shoulders. "I suppose in the end this is no grand secret. Yes, Master Draxon is dead -- he died almost three years ago, long before the Great Mother returned to us. He was very old, and had been ill for some time; his passing was not unexpected. And as a result, I am the leader effective of the Temple of the Shining Stellar Dance."

Artemis was not sure how her specific rank really mattered at this point, but Honour stayed focused.

"So how come you're still Seventh?"

Ebonshield grinned, tilting her head and stretching her wings playfully. "This concerns the matter I wished to speak to you about, actually. By the rules of the stars, I could claim the title of Eight: 'When the master dies, the strongest apprentice takes their place.’"

Inhaling deeply, she folded her wings up again. "But these are not the rules particular of the Temple of the Shining Stellar Dance -- they are not the rules which Master Girolamo Draxon instilled in me."

She turned her head, as if looking straight through the walls at some indeterminate point a great distance away. "...He told me, 'To be the Seven is to be the finest of all the Stellar Dancers, the most skilled and the most accomplished. Whenever we spar, Pureza, you emerge victorious. This is why you are the Seven. But even when I lose, do you not in winning feel as if you have learned something new as well?'"

Her expression softened. "...I said that I did, for my master was always inventive and original in our duels, and he explained: 'That is why I am the Eight. Because to be the Eight is not to be the finest of all Stellar Dancers: to be the Eight is to be the finest teacher of the Stellar Dance. When I am gone and you have taught one of your students how to defeat you with consistency, then you too shall be the Eight.'"

Purity Ebonshield sighed. "For three years he has been gone. But I have not taken his position because, in truth, I am a poor teacher."

Artemis couldn’t help interjecting. "What? Sergeant, that's not true. You've done a great job with the Royal Engineer so far! He fought his first fight, just now, and he didn't even flinch!"

Honour turned towards the specialist as Ebonshield shrugged, smiling. "I think you are generous and attribute too much to my schooling. We have had only two lessons; I am still teaching only the most basic things. And our VIP is a learner most eager. This is not an evaluation honest."

She turned back to the corporal. "There are beneath me five Sixes, and I am unable to teach any of them well enough to beat me. But this is my problem, not yours, so do not concern yourselves. And, despite the unfortunate behaviour that you have seen from the Stars of the other Schools, the Stellars are above suspicion. Though they have remained on the Moon, my Sixes are as loyal to the Princess Luna as I am. As are all those beneath them, as well."

Honour nodded her head. "Okay. I do wish you'd come clean with this for us earlier. It would have made things a little clearer, and maybe a little less stressful."

Artemis wasn’t sure if knowing that her new quaternion member was the batpony master of assassins would have made things any less stressful twelve days ago. Probably just the opposite. At the time she’d met Ebonshield, Artemis didn't even know the batpony was an assassin at all! Still, it puts some things in perspective -- like why the Hatcheteers took Ebonshield's threat seriously on that first trip down.

A few other memories sprung to mind.

"Is this why the Reverend Mother Superior asked if you were still 'only Seven'?"

Ebonshield nodded. "Yes. Carmen does not understand why I cling to the rules of my dead master. To her, rules which are an inconvenience on the path to power are to be simply stepped over. And she thinks that her children, like her, should be in the highest positions possible. She knows that there is no difference within my school, whether I am Seven or Eight, but it means that the Eighths of other Schools do not treat me as a true equal, which diminishes my power. Though this is also because of my School; Girolamo Draxon the Stellar Eight was often treated with disrespect as well."

Taking a deep breath, she bowed her head and clasped her forehooves and wing-tips together in front of her. "...And this is why I need your help, Corporal Honour Bound. I am not confident that I am teaching the Engineer Royal properly. Even though the venue for his training belongs to my people, I need the experience of an Equestrian if his instruction is to be proper."

Honour raised her eyebrows, her ears flattening behind her head. "Me?? What am I supposed to do? I can barely avoid him lunging at me. And even that was your idea."

Ebonshield's reply was instantaneous. "Only because during the first training, he managed to grab me in spite of my suggestion that this would be impossible. And both he, and his Ghost whom the Balladeer Ignacio summoned for me to fight, were ultimately more dangerous with my daggers than with their maces."

She shook her head, sighing again. "Do you not see? I have already let our VIP down by allowing the minotaur Bronzehorn to fashion for him arms and armor as if he were a minotaur, instead understanding the creature which he is. And I have let him down again by suggesting that he would never be able to grapple with me or any Equestrian, even though this was proven false. I am trying to correct my mistakes, but the consequences for my errors come too fast, and I worry that more will come faster still! My failings as a teacher could become my failure as his bodyguard."

Ebonshield clasped her hooves and wings together again. "...Please, Caporal. With Carmen having decided that we are to be permitted in the Rookery, I believe there will be no further threats from my people for the moment, though I will tell you whatever you require to ensure he is defended from them. The threats here on the surface concern me -- for was the Engineer Royal not challenged to a duel before he had even thought to train as a warrior? This is why I am here; if there had not been a request urgent for a fourth member of this quaternion, Carmen may have had the time to persuade the Great Mother to take for him a Lunar instead of a Star. So, will you help me?"

The Corporal looked completely lost.

Artemis could understand that.

Eventually Honour whinnied out through her mouth. "I... I guess? I don't know what you want me to do. I have been in a few fights, but honestly, earth ponies like me aren't the true stars of the Royal Guard -- the pegasi and unicorns are."

Ebonshield rose up, grinning. "You do not need to be a 'star,’ Corporal. I am a 'Star,' and as you say, we have already a pegasus and a unicorn as well to defend the Engineer Royal. I want for you to be more proactive in our training. I want that you will suggest and recommend exercises particular which seem to you appropriate. If you wish, I will still present myself as 'in charge,' but I require your expertise and insight."

She shrugged, still smiling. "These qualities you must have, otherwise I think you would not have noticed such a trivial thing as what Lucretia mentioned. And if you were not also dedicated already to the proper defense and instruction of the Engineer Royal, I think you would not have confronted me about this either, yes?"

Honour nodded, slowly, though Artemis saw her shoulders and forelegs tense up a bit. "Okay. I'll try to take a more active role during the sessions."

Ebonshield waggled her left forehoof disapprovingly, reaching out with her right forehoof to touch the corporal's withers. "Master Draxon taught me: 'A good Dancer does not become tense, but ready.'"

Withdrawing her hoof, Artemis saw Honour relax a bit. "Though for now, I think, this would be best to become asleep. And since I have already finished, if there are no further questions for tonight, I will retire."

Both the specialist and the corporal acknowledged her polite bow, and as the batpony left for her room, Glamerspear emerged from the washroom, a towel wrapped around her head.

‘She really managed to have a whole shower just now?’

Artemis must have been tired not to have noticed that. Honour looked in her direction, suddenly appearing exhausted, and the pegasus nodded, politely acknowledging that the order of precedence meant the corporal was next. Anyways, Artemis needed to take her armor off before she could do anything in the washroom.

But there was one other thing she needed to take care of.

"Hey, Lily, can I ask you one thing before you go to bed?"

Looking considerably refreshed, though still sleepy, her unicorn comrade sat down in her doorway, drowsily looking over her back. "What's that?"

Artemis stepped over to her own door, adjacent to Lily’s. "Those... photos... you were suggesting that we take. Do you think we could look into that a bit more? Maybe do them this week?"

She hadn’t forgotten the unicorn’s suggestion for how to patch things up with Huckleberry -- before the whole situation blew up in her muzzle and he angrily confronted the Royal Engineer.

Glamerspear cocked an eyebrow. "Uhh... No offense, Sparks, but it's a bit late on that front, dontcha think?"

Artemis shook her head. "I don't want the photos for him, Lily..."

Licking her lips, she took a deep breath. "... I want them for me."

Trying to flirt with the Royal Engineer last night had put her in a real depression, when she’d thought that he wasn't paying any attention to her tuft. She felt big and awkward and ugly again, like she did before... before Huckleberry.

Well, it turned out Anonymous really wasn't paying attention, though only because he didn't know what he was supposed to be paying attention to. But still, the lingering question remained.

‘Am I a pretty pony?’

‘Can I be?’

‘Like the ones in those colts' magazines?’

Not that she’d probably ever show such photos of herself to anypony… But how else was she supposed to know what she really looked like?

As if having heard all of her internal conversation, Glamerspear nodded knowingly. "Okay. Yeah, sure. Ya know, I've got lotsa, like, jewellery and accessories and stuff if you want to go through it beforehoof. I know I said we should do them 'au naturel,' with maybe your armor, but a few trinkets never hurt. I guess this means you'll have to teach me how to properly use your camera, though."

Artemis smiled back. "It's easy, Lily. You won't have any trouble."

She yawned at her pegasus buddy. "Okay. Let's talk about it more tomorrow, alright? I gotta get my beauty sleep -- and you do too, fillyfriend."

‘Alright!’

With eager hopes for tomorrow, Artemis headed into her room and began to remove her armor pieces before bed.

Chapter 113

Lily Glamerspear

‘This is a hoot!’

Specialist Lily Glamerspear’s pegasister comrade, Artemis Sparkshower, master of heavy armor and wielder of what can only be described as a rocket-powered lance, seemed to be terrified of a curtain.

Or rather, what lay beyond.

Standing still as a statue just ahead of Lily, stopped in front of a thin black strip of fabric which kept a particular, out-of-the-way section of the Canterlot barracks commissary out of sight, stood Artemis Sparkshower, eyes as wide as dinner plates.

She turned her head towards the unicorn. "Lily, are you sure that's not, uhm, an employees-only area or-"

Before she could finish the thought, Lily shouldered into her plot -- a risky maneuver, considering Artemis probably had almost ten kilos on her. The odds were even worse when the pegasus had her armor on, but right now they were both off-duty -- and therefore out of uniform -- so despite the weight difference, Lily managed to hustle her flanks forward and past the textile privacy screen hung in an open doorway between the back-aisle shelves of 'reproductive health products.'

"C'mon, mare, no turning back now. Get in there!"

In response to Lily’s shoving, Artemis took a few steps forwards, but as soon as she was fully inside the small room, she came to a dead stop again, standing in awe as she bore witness to its four short walls, each amply stocked with all manner of Equestrian pornography. Three of those walls were stacked with dozens and dozens of glossy, full-color prints and magazines, while the door-frame fourth presented two small bookshelves full of 'pocket novelettes.' There was a brown paper bag dispenser just inside the doorway, too, labelled 'For Your Discretion While Shopping.'

Sparkshower just whispered breathlessly. "Oh, hurricanes."

Spoken like a true, innocent, one-coltfriend-since-high-school filly.

Lily smirked as the pegasus gaped at the room. "Listen, Sparks, you said you want to take some racy photos? Well, I'm no prize-winning photographer and you're no experienced supermodel -- so if you're serious about this, we're going to need a little 'reference material,' if you know what I mean."

Her mouth just hung open, as if she'd just accidentally walked into one of the Princess' bedrooms, finding a colt sheath-deep inside Their Majesty's Royal Plot.

Sparkshower's baby blues slowly panned across the room. "There's... there's so much of it."

Lily shook her head, rolling her eyes up towards the ceiling. "Come on, mare, don't tell me you never caught ol' farm-hoof Huckleberry churning his own butter to a magazine behind the barn?"

Leaning her shoulder into Artemis’, Lily continued as the gobsmacked pegasus stayed silent. "...Ya know? Waxing his carrot? Beating his baloney? Milking his lizard? Varnishing his flagpole?"

Watching her try to understand this adults-only room was like watching a squirrel in the park stare at a large coconut, struggling to figure out how to eat it.

"I... uh... er..." She swallowed. "... Maybe?"

Lily snorted. "You pick any colt out of the barracks and it's guaranteed they've got something from here under their pillow or in their nightstands, whether it's bought from the store or maybe borrowed from a bunkmate. Either that, or a photo of their sweetheart."

Stepping past her, Lily turned around and waved a hoof at the room. "And why not? When they don't have a mare, or they're forced away from 'em, or even when their mare's just not in the mood, what we have here are cheap tickets to a little personal rest and relaxation." She chuckled. "And probably soiled sheets, too, unless they use an old sock. Your foal Huckleberry had one of those, and I bet he never washed it, either."

The struck-by-lightning stare Artemis gave Lily told her he did, and that she didn't know what he used it for.

Until now, anyways.

Averting her gaze, she pawed a hoof at the floor, then sighed as she looked back up. "O... okay. So what do we get? How do we pick?"

Seizing one of the brown paper bags in her telekinetic grip, Lily stepped right into the center of the commissary's little hall of wonders. "It's easy, Sparks. Everything's all sorted out for you, look." She pointed a forehoof the bookshelves flanking the door. "Those are the 'novelettes,' ya know? Harness-rippers. Stories about sweet, innocent mares discovered as buds by charming colts who then teach them how to blossom. No pictures -- at least, nothing more than the cover art and maybe an illustrated plate or two inside -- but steamy stories to warm you up on a cold night. More popular with the mares than with the colts. I guess us gals really need a good narrative to get the juices flowing."

That same pointing forehoof shook dismissively. "You can browse 'em if you want, but they're no good to us right now. We need the photo refs, so that's these three racks here."

Turning around, Lily extended her forelegs out. "On my left, you've got the raunchy but regular stuff -- just ponies baring what they've got or enjoying each others' company. Mares, colts, mares and colts, colts and colts, mares and mares, et cetera. On my right, it's the 'special interest' mags." She coyly shrugged one shoulder, and tilted her head down to meet it. “Maybe you can find something there to scratch your little 'tack-play' itch, since the Royal Engineer's not available to play with right now."

Although she seemed interested, that closing remark earned the unicorn a scowl.

‘Whatever, marefriend. Don't hate on the game just because the corporal put you in the penalty box for not knowing the rules!’

Bringing her forehooves back in front of her, Lily gestured to beckon the pegasus forward, then turned and stepped over to the wall behind her. "And then we have this rack. The 'classy stuff.' It's not just pornography, it's art; it's literature; it's reading material."

Sparkshower stepped up beside her, and the unicorn telekinetically plucked one magazine up into the air. Underneath the title, there was a photo of a mare facing the camera, her forelegs clutched together to force her tuft out as far as it could go. It was no forest like Lily’s pegasus comrade had got going on, but the coverfilly was hardly lacking in the foliage department.

"Here's 'Rustler,' the lowest-brow mag still considered to be a cut above your ordinary tuft-and-plots pub. There's actual sex depicted in here, sometimes with more than just two ponies involved."

Artemis turned red, either from the thought of a multi-pony sexual romp, or from the racy cover itself. Lily dropped the magazine into her bag and picked up the next one on her shopping list. That one's cover had a mare sitting sideways on a bench, wearing a negligee with one hind leg dangling down seductively, and the other tucked up against her chest.

"This is 'Hayloft.' Now we're getting into the denser stuff. There's no photos of sex in here -- just tantalizing titillation with scandalous poses. If you look past the images, though, there's often some good, actual, interesting reading material in here. Famous writers and reporters often contribute, and those contributions can be a lot less tame than when they publish elsewhere."

Sending it down to join 'Rustler' in the shopping bag, Lily took a step sideways and lifted up a third. She didn’t even have time to look over the cover herself before Sparkshower furrowed her brow and gasped out in shock.

"Hey, that's Countess Coloratura!"

It sure was: in full makeup and costume, minus her habitual veil. And of course the subtitle read, 'The Countess, Unmasked.'

Lily nodded her head. "Uh-huh. 'Playfoal' is the classiest of the classy porno mags, and more often than not their coverfilly is someone with not just a neat tuft and a firm plot, but something intellectual to offer, too."

Sparkshower extended a cautious forehoof towards the publication in question. "Are... Are you telling me that there's... uh... pictures... of Coloratura in there?"

Lily flattened her expression. "Yes, Sparks. There's pictures of 'Countess Coloratura' in here."

She scrunched up her brow and swallowed. "Yeah, but I mean... I mean... She's a celebrity! An artist, a singer! And there's pictures, you know? Like... picture pictures?"

The unicorn shook her head impassively. "What do you mean, 'picture pictures'?"

As the poor pegasus struggled to find the words, Lily leaned in conspiratorially. "Like, pictures of her tuft?"

Sparks froze again, and the unicorn leaned in harder.

"...A shot of her flank?"

Her muzzle was almost up against the pegasus’ ears.

"...Close-up of her plot?"

She lowered her voice to a whisper.

"...Maybe even a glimpse of what's in-between her cheeks?"

Instantly, Sparkshower clasped both forehooves to her mouth. "No! No, she wouldn't! Would she!?"

Regaining her upright posture, Lily chuckled. “No, she probably wouldn't. At the least, I bet her publicist sure wouldn't want her to. But the rest, probably, yeah. 'Playfoal' doesn't like to short-change its readers, but they respect an artist's limits. You might be surprised, though -- otherwise wholesome artists have shown up in 'Playfoal' pages, baring more than enough to inspire a teenage colt's wet dream."

She dropped the issue into the bag. "And the writing's top-notch, too. I bet the interview with the 'Countess' goes on for at least three or four pages, and digs deep into stuff she hasn't revealed elsewhere. Though who knows how much of it is made up. Honestly, considering you're reading 'Canterlot Match,' I'm surprised you've never read 'Playfoal.' At least the photo subjects in this magazine consented and got paid to be photographed, instead of being flashed on the spot by Canterlot's paparazzi."

'Canterlot Match' was barely a step above 'Playfoal' or 'Hayloft' in terms of content -- some would consider it a step down, even. Yet that rag got put out next to all the other magazines, instead of stashed away here in the adults-only section.

Artemis looked down at the brown paper bag, almost in shock.

‘Did I blow through things too quickly for her virginal little mind?’

"Okay... Is that all? Just those three?"

Lily shrugged. "That's up to you, Sparkshower. There should be some good ideas for poses and lighting and stuff in all three of these. We won't have all the tools and scenery they've got, of course, but it's still your photoshoot. You said you wanted to do this for you, so it should be about you. Why don't you look over some of the other mags, see if there's anything that catches your eye? It's my treat."

At that, Artemis instantly started pleading, forehooves clutched in front of her. "Oh, no Lily, you shouldn't! I wanted to take the photos, after all; there's no reason for you to pay."

The unicorn shook her head. "Hey, I'm getting something out of this, too -- a free lesson in photography, with an attentive subject." Snickering, she shrugged and continued. "But this is mostly payback for me dragging you through dark-as-buck tunnels to the bucking Moon last night, to say nothing of facing a freaking 'Accursed Shadow' monster."

Placing her forehooves on Artemis’ shoulders, she gently indicated the other racks of magazines. "So, come on. Take a peek around. I think we're done with this one behind me. Besides the racy calendars and the magazines aimed at mares -- which means they'll all only have photos of colts -- the only other stuff in here is either too text-heavy to be interesting or else too tame to be worthwhile."

She casually lifted one of the items up as an example. "I mean, come on, 'Athletics Photography Bi-Weekly, the Swimsuit Edition'? I'm surprised they even bother to put that in here, considering the closest a young colt's going to get to anything interesting is a fabric-covered outline just barely revealing a cutie mark. They'd be better off just going outside and looking at actual mares on the street."

Lowering it back onto its shelf, Lily pointed her at the rack of halfwit-harlot porno mags and pinup art. "Take a look over there to start. Come on."

With trepidation, Artemis stepped over to the other set of shelves. Lily watched as her eyes scanned the rows of publications, only the title and the top couple of inches visible behind the magazine in the staggered row in front of them, while the rest remained behind the solid, white wooden panels holding everything in. Some of them caught Lily’s attention, and she took a peek at the first’s full cover while levitating them up.

'FLOOF,' in fat lettering.

Sure enough, it was two mares with veritable jungles growing off their fronts, hugging each other seductively, as their tuft-hair poured out from between them.

‘Do colts really like mares that plush?’

Not even Sparkshower could compare to those two, but there was a good reason for that. Snorting, Lily lowered it back down. "Those are totally fake. Extension weaves on both of 'em for sure."

'Mustangs Wild,' said a masculine, but artistic font. There was a chipper looking earth pony stud with a friendly smile on the cover.

‘Not bad.’

‘Not what I need right now, but not bad. Maybe I’ll come back for you later.’

'THICK Plots,' with the word 'THICK' seeming to crush the 'Plots' underneath it. And there was exactly what the title claimed on the front page; three mares facing away from the viewer, their burgeoning behinds filling the frame.

Sparkshower cleared her throat. "It looks like they used a wide-angle lens up close to make those mares' plots look bigger than they really are. It's called perspective distortion."

Lily nodded and put it back. "Sure. I bet these magazines use all kinds of tricks."

Glancing over at her nervous comrade, Glamerspear tried to reassure her. "Look, I'm not saying we're going to be able to replicate what you see on display here, it's just that I thought you might want to see the kind of pictures I was talking about -- and for my part, if I'm going to be standing behind the lens, I'd like to have a reference for what I'm doing, too."

Artemis nodded. "No, I understand now, Lily. You're absolutely right. It's a good idea to do research beforehoof." Turning her lips up a bit, she shook her head gently. "But I don't know if any of these are really appealing to me. Let's take a look at the other rack."

‘Oh, miss kinky-horseshoes is tired of the ordinary stuff already, is she?’

Well, that's all right. The photos of the 'regular' stuff on this side were probably faker than most, considering how they had to compete against each other. After a couple of steps, the two of them arrived side-by side, staring at the 'special interest' rack.

And what an especially interesting rack it was.

'S|T|R|I|P|E|D'

‘Yep, it's a magazine about zebras.’

The mare on the cover had a grass skirt around her waist, and bracelets made of shells and semi-precious stones on each of her four legs.

‘Really pushing the 'mare of the jungle' angle here.’

The text on the cover even proclaimed, 'In the wilds I beat the drums, what colt here can make me come?' But Lily wouldn't be at all surprised if the 'wilds' in question where this filly grew up were nothing more than the brick-and-cobblestone urban 'forest' of midtown Manehattan.

Shaking her head dismissively, she put it back and picked up another.

'NO HOOVES,' stylized as the word 'HOOVES' in black at an angle, with a red circle-backslash prohibition symbol stamped on top of it. And on the cover were a griffon hen, a young dragoness with her wings outstretched, and... a diamond dog bitch? Lily really couldn’t tell if that third one was a mare or not, but all three were looking seductively towards the reader, so she guessed so.

The subtitle read: 'PREMIERE ISSUE! Zero hooves, all action.'

Well, Celestia knows there were colts out there pining for who knows what. And not just colts, either -- another extra-species mag caught her eye.

'Taurus'

A huge-looking minotaur with a smoldering glare had his enormous, beefy arms crossed on the front, standing sideways with another one in the distance behind him flexing impressively. An inset photo shows an earth pony mare with her eyes rolled back into her head, a bull standing behind her, the area of contact obscured by a tacky yellow star-burst that reads 'Big Bulls with BIG BA**S'. Lily couldn’t even begin to imagine the kind of mare that would want to be mounted by one of those enormous bipeds. They couldn't pay her enough to get reamed out by a beast four or more times her size.

Two times bigger, maybe, sure.

Lily caught Sparkshower eyeing the minotaur magazine with awe, and slowly lowered it back down, as if to tell her 'no.'

‘Come on, there's got to be something in here both more reasonable and more relevant.’

'PLUMB WEIGHT'

‘Weird title.’

The front boasted a detailed drawing of a scarred-up mare with a funky-looking metal mask and a bandolier of knives around her waist and back. And all around her were ruins of buildings and strange-looking monsters. 'TARNA, WARRIOR-MARE OF ARZACH' said the text beneath her, while the mag's motto claimed to be 'Equestria's Greatest Illustrated Magazine.'

Sparkshower brightened up upon seeing it. "Oh, that looks pretty interesting! I like fantasy pulp fiction. But maybe that's not useful for the photoshoot."

Lily smiled and nodded. "Hey, if you want it for your own sake, it's yours."

Dropping it in the bag, Lily continued to scan the rack of magazines with her marefriend.

'PUFFY ONES'

‘Puffy whats, now?’

Lily scrunched up her muzzle trying to understand the cover. There was a mare with her plot towards the reader, but she was wearing some kind of underwear that hung low under her with a weird pair of bulg-- ‘oh, those are her teats.’

‘The buck? This has to be fake, there's no way they could be that big.’

'MORE THAN A HOOF-FULL! MARES OVERFLOWING BRAS!'

‘Overflowing what?’

‘The buck is a 'bra'? Is that what they're calling that weird underwear?’

Shaking her head, Lily lowered it back down. That one must be for the real deviants.

She glanced over and saw Sparkshower flipping through a magazine in her hooves. The pegasus swallowed as she turned another page.

"You know, it's a good thing there's nopony else in here."

Lily chuckled. "It's a Sunday afternoon on base. The commissary's always empty around now. Anypony who has weekend liberty is using it; and anybody who doesn't, is either on duty now or sleeping 'cause they're going on duty later." Nodding towards the black strip of cloth that separated this room from the main shopping aisles, she continued. "Besides, that's why the curtain doesn't go all the way to the floor -- so you can tell if somepony's already in here, in case you'd rather wait to do your browsing solo."

Lily shrugged and turned back to the shelves. "I don't think most colts care, though there's an unspoken rule about not making eye contact. And Celestia help the mare who trots in here when it's full of colts."

Sparkshower looked up from the magazine. "Does... does anything happen?"

Lily smirked. "No, but it can be pretty awkward for everypony all around." Shaking her head, she sighed. "Val sent me in here one time to grab him some 'reading material,' early in our relationship. I don't think he really cared about the magazines -- he just wanted to put me in a small room with five random colts shopping for pornography." Lily snorted dismissively. "He liked doing that; 'testing' his friends and his mares by creating awkward or dangerous scenarios. It was all a big game to him."

Her brow furrowed, Artemis looked up sympathetically. "It's not like that for you with Captain Mailedhoof, is it?"

Another snort escaped Lily’s nostrils. "No, but his charm is starting to wear off, too. Or maybe it's just because his family's in town, 'cause the Gala is so close. I guess the Officer's Club is about as far as he's willing to take me -- which is still a nice place to be, sure, but I was kinda hoping we'd get out into the city a bit, too, ya know?"

Lily guffawed. "It's not like he's got a reputation for discretion. He got snapped a few months ago in 'Canterlot Match' with another mare, sitting at a window table in a fancy restaurant. I guess that exposure finally drove a wedge in between him and his wife, so now he's being careful. Which means we're going nowhere the press can get to, I suppose."

Sparkshower put the magazine she'd been flipping through back on the shelf, and tentatively took another. "From where I'm sitting, Lily, neither seems like a particularly healthy relationship."

That was quite a statement.

"Healthy? Well, maybe. I mean, you gotta factor in that I went into each with different objectives." Looking up at the ceiling, Lily pawed a forehoof at her chin. "All I want from Mailedhoof is a little fun and glamour for a few months, or maybe even a year or two. Same as with any of my salt-licks. It's not like I'm holding out hopes he'll divorce his wife and take my hoof, though that sort of thing does happen -- and causes a scandal in the gossip pages, heh. But Mailedhoof will almost certainly get bored of me, eventually. With Valiant, though..."

Lily bobbed her head sideways as the uncomfortable memories surfaced.

"...I really thought we had something together. Despite everything despicable he's done, he actually is pretty brave, and really smart, and he can be awfully charming, too."

Lifting her eyebrows, she clicked her tongue on the side of her mouth. "tch... I think the hardest part about dealing with him is that although I despise him as a colt, I still gotta respect him as a pegasus and as a Royal Guard, ya know? I went into our duel all cocky, looking for some payback, but deep down I knew it was going to be a hard fight."

Sighing, Lily looked sideways at her pegasus comrade. "You know, Sparks, I tease you for it, but on some level I did kinda admire what you had going on with your hometown sweetheart. I know you had your problems even before Friday's explosive break-up, but there was something touching about the way you seemed to be so happy with him." Glancing down at the lower shelves, LIly sniffed in through her nostrils. "I don't think I'd be quite as content in your place, but it was nice to see somepony else in that situation."

She picked herself back up again, grimacing awkwardly. "...Sorry. I'm babbling a bit, aren't I? I shouldn't be rubbing salt in fresh wounds like this."

The pegasus stretched her forehooves up to shuffle through the magazines again, but didn’t seem phased. "It's okay, Lily. Losing Huckleberry still hurts, but I think I'm past breaking down in tears now, at least." Lifting her eyebrows, she turned to briefly look around the room. "I think I understand what you're saying. You think Huckleberry and I had the kind of relationship you can't find in these magazines."

Lily lifted her own eyebrows and followed Artemis’ gaze. "Yeah. That's a good way of putting it." She pointed at the pocket-novelettes. "I wouldn't be surprised if a bunch of those books were trying to sell something like it, though. That's their appeal."

Sparkshower just shook her head. "It's still just a fantasy, though. I'm sure they leave out all the hard work."

‘An astute observation.’

Lily nodded. "True."

The pegasus looked wistfully down at the pages between her hooves. "When I think about Huckleberry today, all I can remember is how much I put in, trying to make us both happy. That's what hurts right now; the feeling of all that effort going to waste."

She really seemed upset, so Lily put a hoof on her shoulder. "Hey. Fighting the good fight is never a waste, Sparks. Sometimes things are just out of your hooves."

The pegasus nodded, looking down at the magazine. "Yeah."

Lily glanced down as well and saw a two-page color advertisement for some kind of tackle supplier. It was surprisingly classy, with a range of saddles, bits, and bridles all presented on a black background and described in flowery prose. 'Sellerie Chevalier de Colbért. Finest quality tackle by craftspony masters. Prench designs for an intimate feel. Trust your ride or rider with nothing less.'

Before Lily could get into the details, Artemis closed the magazine and held it up. "I think I'd like to get this one."

The title read simply, 'Dressage.' And on the cover there was a full body shot of a white earth pony mare with a blonde mane, sitting innocently on her haunches, wearing a dark black leather saddle, bit, bridle, and even a pair of matching black blinders. In her mouth, she was holding a coiled-up whip. The absence of any other text on the cover, besides the price and a 'Vol 3, Issue 2' in small print, was usually a good sign that this was a magazine for connoisseurs.

Lily lifted her eyebrows. "Seems nice. Okay. You want to look for another?"

Artemis shook her head. "No, I think this'll do for now. Let's grab a few rolls of film from the photo desk before we leave, too. Some developer and fixer, if they have any, too -- it'll be cheaper and faster if I develop the images myself. Not to mention, it'll be more private."

As she slipped 'Dressage' into the brown paper bag, where it joined 'Plumb Weight,' 'Rustler,' 'Hayloft,' and 'Playfoal,' Sparkshower grimaced. "I really don't want anypony else seeing these photographs until I'm comfortable with them, after all. I'm not even going to print them unless I'm really sure about it. They can stay as negatives; I've got a loupe, and looking at them with inverted light doesn't bother me."

Lily chuckled. "Ah, mare. You're all timid and soft-hoofing it now, but I know you ain't gonna keep playing like that. I still remember how you blasted Joker out of the sky. And you're a good looking pegasus, so just you wait -- when you're ready, print 'em up and show 'em to the right ponies, and one of these pics we snap will wind up making you a centerfold."

That suggestion made her eyes go wide, and Lily snorted with amusement as she led the pegasus out of that little room of wonders.

Suggested interlude music: J. Geils Band - 'Centerfold' [1981]
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BqDjMZKf-wg

Chapter 114

Purity Ebonshield

Stellar Seven Purity Ebonshield was hanging as silent and as still as the stalactite to which she was strapped.

Wrapped in a tight-fitting cloak which was dyed to match those same stones, and whose extremities were fixed to her limbs, with a matching cowl over her head, and a full set of leggings underneath, the batpony would appear indistinguishable from her surroundings but for her eyes, which she shut the instant anypony so much as glanced in her direction, lest the reflection of light give her away.

Clinging to the upper end of the rock head-down and tail-up, with a wide canvas belt holding her fast, Ebonshield silently watched the goings-on below in the dimly lit, natural cave which hosted the storehouse of the Rookery of Canterlot. Beneath her lay a room full of barrels, crates, and sacks, with shelves full of mostly-imperishable items, arranged unevenly and with barely sufficient organization to get by.

Spices from the Moon. Salt, sugar, and lime powder. Grain and dried fruit. Beer, wine, oil, and other liquids in kegs. Bars of iron, copper, and lead, sitting on racks.

Manufactured things, too. Cloth, hardware, and tools of all sorts.

In the center of the scarcely-organized chaos, with narrow aisles radiating outwards towards the edges of the room, sat a lonesome but heavy wooden desk piled high with ledgers, attended by a tired-looking Rock mare of the guild of Stockers, Keepers and Clerks. The papers at her hooves mapped each piece of property here to their owners; her job was to ensure that nothing was removed or replaced without being recorded. And her job was also to direct her assistant, a young colt, who corralled and ordered the half-dozen Dustpony laborers responsible for the actual, physical work of storing and retrieving the objects brought or demanded by the customers of the storehouse. If the poor Rocks only knew what lurked not far above their heads, they would be shouting for the Stars.

But for tonight, these mundane things in the main stores were not that which were of interest to her. At the far side of the room from the entranceway into the warehouse, past the manager's desk, and down one of the tight passages which wound between crates and barrels, a section of the room was blocked off with thick bars of iron. A small, swinging gate at the base was the entrance singular, and a Star sat idly in front. And that Star, a young-looking Second -- or perhaps even First -- Hatcheteer, had sitting under their shoulder a long staff, the butt of the shaft braced against the floor, and the tip fitted with a heavy, iron-caged magic lantern, dangling from a short chain. Behind the colt, and behind that barred fence, lay the true objective of this early-morning activity:

The communal armory and depot of the Canterlot Rookery.

The depository made for a curious cache, since the Temples of the Stars kept their weapons and equipment to themselves. But here were kept artifacts which belonged to the Lunars, or to the Houses -- and in particular House Cadena de Vapores, the House of the Reverend Mother Superior Carmen.

Ebonshield’s House.

After all, in the thousand years leading up to the Great Mother's return, the Stars had fought almost exclusively with each other, and so they kept only that which was useful for such warfare. Tools and special devices which would be needed for the eventual war against Equestria had been the province of the Lunars and the Houses which they led. Such a tool or special device as the Stellar Seven now required...

Reflexively, she pressed her left foreleg up against her chest even more tightly, feeling the reassuring bulge of the dagger strapped to the end. She would not let things come to violence, not even if she were to be discovered, but there was still a relief to being armed. The edicts of the Great Mother were difficult to follow, particularly when they went against decades of training, but for Ebonshield, Her word superseded all other rules. In any case, if all went according to plan, neither the watchcolt, nor any of the other ponies in the storehouse would ever know what had transpired at all. She would not even need to leave the stony perch to which she had snuck almost an hour ago, until after everything was all but finished. And that was because tonight, Ebonshield was not playing the role of a thief.

Not entirely, at least.

Her eyes shot to a large wooden pallet covered with a multitude of small barrels. Four of those, labelled as different varieties of vermouth, were brought in today, by Dusts working for a merchant Rock of the Guild of Vintners, Distillers, and Brewers, whom Ebonshield had paid a tidy sum to have them hauled here by a Rock of the Guild of Orchardists, under the conceit that they were not laden with wine, but actually full of almonds and pistachios, the higher taxes and tariffs on which the Orchardist merchant mare wished to avoid. And Ebonshield had paid that Orchardist a hefty fee to store what he thought was some of her own smuggled-down Equestrian liquor, to be resold at a profit on the Rookery's black market at a later date.

Bluff upon bluff; payoff upon payoff.

This was helped in that she was already known to be a smuggler of Equestrian goods: tobacco, avocados, and yes, even some of the liquors of the surface. Unlike the Night Guard, Ebonshield had unfettered access to the palace, including the well stocked storehouse, cellar, and pantry. As for her deception, there was interest mutual for both Rocks to keep their muzzles shut and the keg lids sealed. But if anypony should actually look into the barrels, tomorrow or even later, they would find nothing more than exactly what was stencilled on the outside: red vermouth, from the distilleries of the House Cadena de Vapores, bought on the Moon and imported to the Rookery's Temple of the Shining Stellar Dance a week ago.

Since the 'Maestro Cazador' had been so appreciated by her battle-siblings in the quaternion, Ebonshield had thought that some joyous occasion might merit the imbibing of the speciality of her own House, and decided to keep a ready supply of that liquor -- as well as a few more cases of Maestro Cazador, also stashed in the Equestrian outpost of her Temple. And now she found herself using some of that liquor on behalf of her patron, as well as some of her own funds for the bribes.

Yet overall this experience was still a net gain, what with her generous bodyguard salary and on top of this, her profits as a smuggler. As a result of all that preparation, whether intended for this operation or not, she had four barrels of vermouth to store.

But any would-be inspectors would also find that, curiously, none of the four were full past half-way, perhaps a sign that somepony was being dishonest about the volume of a liquor sale -- a serious offense. An extraordinarily close inspection might perhaps find that two of the barrels had a little hair in them...

Suggested background music: Russell Shaw - 'Greatwood', from 'Fable' [2005]
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wgiUBD_L-cE

...The same two barrels whose lids were presently moving.

With her chest squeezed tightly against the stalactite by the strap, which made breathing difficult, Purity Ebonshield watched with apprehension as the wooden tops slowly lifted upwards, their occupants surveying the situation around them before emerging from their hiding places. The storehouse's primary Rock was at her table, scribbling away as she described what she did to the apprentice-assistant, while the group of Dust gathered on a nearby stoop, glad to have a moment's rest after what must have been a busy day. That meant the coast was clear for her two initiates, whose kegs were far out of sight from both the central bureau and the Star in front of the gate.

Slowly, but steadily, they rose up and out of the two barrels, naked, but covered in dirt and grime. Ebonshield couldn’t help but grin as she watched them execute her plan, while thinking of the schemes which they themselves had proposed. After all, they were now Firsts of the School of the Shining Stellar Dance; this was only proper that they have the opportunity to come up with ideas of their own on how to burgle the armory. And if those ideas had been any good, she might have used them.

But Carto had thought to sneak in through the ceiling, as Ebonshield herself had done, before swooping down after the storehouse was closed for the morning, slitting the Hatcheteers' throats. The plan was certainly 'clean,' but this would also make obvious that an intrusion was made. She wished for a more subtle infiltration that would not be noticed until some time later -- if, indeed, at all. Furthermore, the task of sneaking in across the ceiling had been slow and laborious, and all four of her legs still ached from the exertion of slowly picking her way from stalactite to stalactite.

Even now, resting on this perch was hardly much rest at all, upside-down as she was and with her breathing constrained by the buckle that allowed her legs opportunity to recover. And she had to stay there for some time yet more, only then to sneak back out the way she came. Certainly, Ebonshield had tools -- such as the padded horseshoes she now wore to silence her hooves, and the special brushes affixed to her leading wing-arms to muffle their noise, and these did help. But, as gymnastically-inclined as they were, this maneuver was still well beyond the physical capabilities of her young students.

Águila, for her part, had proposed to start a fire -- or at least create the appearance of one using smoke-bombs -- and thereby ensure that the storehouse would be evacuated while the heist was completed. This, at least, offered some semblance of legitimacy, but Ebonshield was certain that any sudden fire would be treated as suspicious, and the place would be searched. Then the loss would be discovered, and there would not be such ease to dismiss the item in question for being simply misplaced, or otherwise accidentally unaccounted-for. She had pointed out the flaws in those two paths -- the path of the assassin and the path of the arsonist -- and how they were not generally appropriate to merely steal a thing. No, it was the path of the conspirator, and of the thief, which the two must tread.

For her part, after setting up the conspiracy, Ebonshield would now be the watchful teacher, who inspected the work of her students, who tidied up any mess which they may make, and who collected the spoils of their victory.

Beneath her, Carto had already silently opened up one of the other four casks by slowly jimmying off the deliberately-loose top hoop using a thin prybar, and Águila had begun to siphon vermouth from the barrel into her former hiding place using a black rubber hose. Ebonshield could barely make out the sound of the trickling liquor as Carto sneakily attacked the other container. Once their point of entry had been secured, only then would they move on their objective.

Motion at the entrance caught the Seventh’s eye, and another Hatcheteer entered the storehouse, while the two at the entrance traded places with their own replacements. The timing was good; a shift change after her students escaped their barrels was exactly what she hoped for. It would generate noise and motion that would distract from the activities of her Firsts.

With some energy, the newcomer headed up to the central desk, where the Rock in charge gave a knowing but respectful nod of her head, and the Dust-colts all bowed deeply and obsequiously to the Star. After briefly acknowledging their motions, he headed over to the iron-barred armory, and the fellow he had come to replace.

«Good morning, Rafael.»

The current watchcolt waved a tired hoof, sighing. «Morning, Samuel.»

Samuel glanced around. «Is anything happening?»

Tired Rafael just shook his head. «Not really. Just the usual traffic of Rocks and Dust in and out. And a couple of 'special orders' from here at the start of the night. You know the kind. I guess since you're showing up now, they should be coming back down here soon.»

‘Oh?’

‘Somepony in the Night Guard has loaned something out of the armory?’

That is interesting; Ebonshield had thought that these were being saved for some future operation.

«So they're trying another round of that, are they? I thought they gave up last week. How many are out?»

‘Not only is something being used, but has been used before?’

This was a rumor which she had not yet heard. As far as Ebonshield knew, the communal armory had gone almost untouched since the Rookery's founding; storage for what had been used in the assault, rather than anything required for future work as the Great Mother's Night Guard.

Beneath his black Star-cloak, the retiring guard pulled out his keyring and hoofed the items over to his replacement, who duly accepted them.

«Just two.»

As he fixed the keys to his own waist-belt, the new guard opened his eyes wide in shock. «Two? Hardly seems worth the bother. What are just two Stars going to accomplish?»

A yawn and a shrug accompanied the response. «Not much, I suppose, but I gather that there's been a few close calls with some of the juniors. I guess someone decided to restrict the suits to senior Stars only.»

‘Suits!’

They couldn't be talking about the very kind of item Ebonshield was there to pilfer, could they? If there really were two of them being used right now, and if they had been used a week ago as well, this could mean that they were being inventoried more frequently, and that the theft would consequently be noticed...

... But on the other hoof, by her count, there were well over thirty of them, and this would be easier to put down as a loss to carelessness and a failure to account for all of them earlier.

‘Hmm.’

This would probably work out to her advantage, though the risks were certainly elevated.

As the two Hatcheteers traded places, Rafael hoofed over his light-pole. «Anyways, thanks. May the Great Mother protect you, and all that. Anything going on outside of here I should know about?»

At that, Samuel beamed a grin. «Anything going on? You mean you haven't heard? I would have thought for sure the underphases would be blathering all about it by now.»

«Nopony's come in here for over an hour, and anyways when somepony does come in, the only things they ever want to chat about is the whereabouts of their stuff. Why, did something happen?»

The on-duty Star snorted. «Something happened, all right. That fool Marcos pulled over a dozen Meteors, including some who were topside with the Night Guard, and made a move on his sister just after midnight.»

That got a rise out of the otherwise sleepy looking Rafael. «You're joking. He actually had the balls to follow through on all of his banter, that shadow-spawn?»

Samuel just grinned even harder, shaking his head. «I swear on my House it's true. And here's the kicker: he bloody lost.»

Rafael emitted a confused chuckle. «Now I know you're pulling my wing. Marcos and a dozen Meteors? Against a lone Stellar? Granted she's the Seven; Eight in all but title. I mean I certainly wouldn't want to be one of the dozen standing up against that cunt, and I imagine she wrote out a few names for her Temple's little book, but you can't expect me to believe they didn't down her in the end.»

His partner snorted, still grinning. «No joke, they really lost. Fuck a goat, the Six of Meteors is strung up in the oubliette right now, that little banjo-shitter. Although I should say that they weren't up against just the Stellar alone. She was down here with that biped-monkey-bloke and his little menagerie of Equestrian guardsmares -- which includes a unicorn. They all joined in, and from what I hear they swatted down the Meteors like they were a pack of flies, all without a scratch in return.»

He leaned in, chuckling. «And I wouldn't let the Stellar Seven find out you call her words like that, not when you hear what she did to her brother after the fight: she took one of his bloody eyes right out; just sliced it off like a rotten fig about to spoil the bunch. This was in the Grand Hall itself, if you can believe it -- and the Balladeer was even right there, but as soon as Marcos asks can he please get his eyeball back, the Eclipse starts talking rules and reg, 'Oh it wasn't an official duel or training exercise, can't heal your eye, you fucker, sorry.' He's got some lip to him, he does. But like every Eclipse, he knows how to lick the right arses.»

Incredulous, the off-duty colt just shook his head. «Unbelievable. Better his eyeball than one of his sausage-balls, I guess. But we're just shitting all over the Great Mother down here with this nonsense, aren't we? Edict of Blood, Her Holy Arse. She's going to have to knock a few heads about if She wants that one to stand up. I'd better get some sleep, and just pray to the Great Mother's Almighty cunt that his whole mess blows over by the time I wake up.»

Still chuckling, the energetic new guard waved a hoof. «Sure thing. Have a good day, Rafael.»

«Yeah, you too. Don't work too hard, Samuel. Great Mother, this place doesn't deserve it.»

By the time the two guards' conversation had finished, Carto and Águila had finished siphoning half of the two full barrels into their hiding places, completing the deception of their ingress. If anypony questioned those four barrels, then even if the importer on paper admitted the bribe he took, his story wouldn’t match the facts: he would admit to having smuggled in nuts, but the barrels were just underloaded with wine.

Now, with their tools hidden away in a sack, the time had come for her two young apprentices to actually acquire the item of her desire. The method of this was very simple: they were young, small, and well-trained in contortions. And the bars had been made to block the bulky frames of rebellious Shadows, Dust, or Rocks, not the lithe figures of two outstanding Stellar Dancers.

Picking their way past the storehouse contents, the two Stellar Firsts soon arrived at the edge of the iron fence, along the cave wall. With the new guard, Samuel, snickering to himself as he surveyed the warehouse and settled into his post, blissfully unaware of the thievery going on not forty hooves away from him, little time was needed for them to sneak in, twisting to fit just so between the bars. In this capacity, they exceeded even the Seven, and stepping on padded hooves, they easily made their way to the armor rack and silently lifted up a single white suit of linen armor underlay, concealing it in a burlap sack before escaping the same way they came.

Seconds later, they passed through the fence once more, along with their bundled-up haul. This they left for Ebonshield, piled with a group of otherwise indistinguishable bags not far from the armory itself. And now they retreated back to the barrels to collect their tools, sneaking off to the shelves to hide the used ones while they assembled the final pieces of this trick.

After a few more minutes passed, the Rock at the desk put down her quill, gave a final to-and-fore rock with a blotter to set the fresh ink, and declared the paperwork up-to-date, and the warehouse closed for the morning.

As if in defiance of that order, a pair of Stars dressed as the Great Mother's Night Guard appeared at the entrance to the warehouse. These two weren’t here for the main storage room, however, and they proceeded directly to the armory, without a word to the Rocks or Dust. Even the guard at the fence, Samuel, did little more than nod and watch as the two Stars removed their outer armor plate and then the special linen underlay, before taking the items, opening the gate, and depositing them inside the armory itself.

The whole return of the armor pieces was done in a matter of a minute or two, and the two Night Guard Stars evacuated the area just as a group of a dozen Shadows had begun to slowly filter into the warehouse, their bare coats caked with dirt and dust, carrying brooms and bags, and watched menacingly by the two new door-guards, as well as the armory watchpony. Heckled, teased, and even mildly abused by the retiring Dust, they fanned out and began to sweep the store room's floor of dust and dirt, collecting the debris in their bags.

And Carto and Águila were among them, with the brooms and dust-pans they smuggled in as part of their toolkit.

‘Excellent!’

The wonderful thing about Shadows was that nopony ever bothered to count them. Nopony, certainly not the Rocks or Stars, nor even the Dust luggage-haulers, would be bothered in the slightest if there were a few more or a few less than when the morning cleaning started.

One of the Dust laborers, a bulky-looking colt, even gave a quick swat of the wing at the backside of Águila's head when she passed the lane he was monitoring. «Missed a spot, you miscreant. By the Great Mother, you're so disgusting, you're dragging more filth in here than you're cleaning up.»

As the grimy Shadow she pretended to be, instead of the proud Star she actually was, Ebonshield’s student dutifully took the Dust-colt's blow and insults, bowed her head, and re-swept the area in question, her hoofstep-silencing hoof-pads resembling the scrubbing swabs of a cleaner just closely enough as for any distinction to be moot. The other Dusts similarly abused the Shadows as the cleaning proceeded, taking out their frustrations at being the second-darkest Phase of the Moon upon those a shade darker than them.

«We've worked all night, you lazy fuckers, and we want to go home! Get the job done right, and done quick, or we'll beat it out of you!»

A quarter of an hour of cajoling and wing-swats saw the end of the Shadows and their dirty work, and soon came the lineup at the exit. While the Rock and her apprentice watched, the two Stars at the gate searched each member of the dimmer Phases for theft and then allowed them to leave, getting the Dust done relatively quickly before subjecting the Shadows to a much more thorough shakedown. Of course, Ebonshield’s two apprentices had absolutely nothing on them of value. No weapons, no tools beyond those required to maintain their present appearances, and certainly nothing stolen from the storehouse or armory.

As predicted, neither the guards nor the Rocks noticed that there were twelve coming in and now fourteen heading out. The other Shadows know, of course, but they were forbidden to speak in the presence of their betters, except to answer a question.

And nopony was about to ask them anything.

Not that the Shadows would have spoken up if they were permitted. Their bribe for silence was the cheapest of all; even the giving of this had been trivial, requiring no more than a whisper in a passing street-sweeper's ear and a few paper-padded coins tossed into their garbage-bag, quickly shuffled to the bottom, out of sight and notice. A welcome relief from the complicated arrangements for privacy with the Rocks, for the Shadows were often the friends to the Stellar Dancers.

They were useful allies for entering places unnoticed, and despite the efforts of the Hatcheteers, the Shadows had learned to smuggle things through even the most thorough examinations. More than once Ebonshield had passed some of her Temple's payment into their hooves, along with her weapons and her body whole, and she had yet to see them fail to deliver either her, or her blades, to whatever Mother-forsaken place had been her pleasure to be conveyed.

But for them, she knew, these acts were not just about the money. There was the feeling that they were taking advantage of their social betters -- by sneaking things under their muzzles, and being disobedient where they were supposed to obey. They had a kind of kinship with her and her Stellar Dancers as well, being outcasts of a sort just as they were -- privileged and wealthy outcasts of a high social rank, to be sure, but outcasts nonetheless. And even though to be a Shadow was to either have been utterly disgraced in life, or else to have performed so badly in the mental and physical examinations of the crèche that no other Phase wished to bid for them, many of the Shadows were by no means dim-witted or lame. Inevitably, the strongest and cleverest of them established a hierarchy, and these creatures understood the value of a clandestine alliance with a group of Stars.

The Seven watched as Carto and Águila were at last allowed out of the storehouse, along with the rest of the Shadows. They would sneak away on their own, when the time was right. With the Dust having already departed, the Rocks left now as well, and the three Stars settled in for the long, boring shift of the morning.

The two at the entryway called out to their comrade at the armory. «Alright, Samuel, things are all clear. Let's have a trot around the hallway, shall we?»

«Right! On my way.»

The armory-guard left his post inside the storehouse to join his mates outside.

‘Good.’

As they set off on a brief patrol of the exit corridor, Ebonshield moved a forehoof and unbuckled the strap, falling from the ceiling and gliding down to the ground on silent wings. Moments later, she retrieved the prize-sack hidden in plain sight, strapping the items tightly to her back, underneath her camouflaged cloak. Now, while the guards were on patrol, she hustled forwards on her padded hooves, leaving the storehouse, jumping up into the air and climbing for the ceiling only when she heard the sound of their hoofsteps approaching.

As Ebonshield yet again clung to a stalactite, the three Hatcheteers passed back beneath her, but she was only twenty hooves down the storehouse hallway, and still within sight of the two Stars who took up positions flanking the entrance. Slowly, laboriously, whenever the opportunity arose, she picked her way from hanging rock to hanging rock, in just the same manner as she’d come in; waiting for moments when the guards were lost in conversation, or when their backs were turned to her in another patrol. This was harder now that there were no visiting Rocks and Dust with cargo to store or retrieve, and the guards looked up at the ceiling, of course, but only occasionally, and always they missed her form, hidden in the busy ceiling above.

Almost a full hour had passed when, at last, she rounded the final corner and was completely out of sight. Even so, she carefully picked her way through the ceiling for another hundred hooves, not wanting to make any noise or leave any hoofprints. That ate up another half-hour before she was at last free to go about the Rookery as a proper inhabitant, instead of a thief. But before that, while still clinging to the ceiling, Ebonshield first removed all of her tools of thievery. The camouflaged clothing, the hoof-pads, the wing-silencers.

When at last her hooves touched the ground, she was a black-cloaked Star like any other, with a nondescript load on her back, and in short order, she exited the Rookery and made her way back to the palace.

Exhausted from the long night, she arrived at the door to her quarters.

"Okay, now give me pouty! POUTY!"

Furrowing her brow, she pushed open the door. There was nopony in the common area; the sounds were coming from the bedroom of the Specialist Sparkshower.

"COME ON, SPARKS, I said POUT!"

‘What exactly is going on in there?’

Ebonshield stepped up to the bedroom and leaned an ear up to the door.

"I'm trying!"

"Well, try harder! Look, it's simple, okay? Just imagine you got uninvited to the Gala. Anonymous isn't taking you any more -- you have to stay here all by yourself."

"What?! That's... That's not fair!"

Acting silently, the batpony twisted the doorknob and pushed the door open a sliver. The Specialist Sparkshower was lying on the bed, wearing her cuirass but with her helmet on the covers beside her, looking upset.

"Right! And the reason he's uninvited you is because you stuck your tuft out at him."

From behind a camera floating in the air, the Specialist Glamerspear was waving a hoof and barking orders.

"But I didn't mean anything wrong by it! And anyways what's wrong with sticking my tuft out? Lots of mares stick theirs out! I should be allowed to stick mine out if I want to!"

At this new expression of indignant disappointment, the unicorn smiled and Ebonshield heard a click from the camera.

"Perfect! Hold it just like that!"

The camera whirred and clicked, held aloft by the unicorn's telekinesis, as Glamerspear shuffled side to side, the pegasus following her with a pouty gaze.

"...Okay! That's enough with the armor on, all right? Let's try something else next."

She headed over to the desk where there were spread out all sorts of magazines with photos of mares in very seductive poses.

‘Oho…’

Perhaps it would be worth staying awake for a little while longer.

Ebonshield smiled and opened the door enough to push her head through. "I apologize for the interruption, but do you need any assistance?"

Instantly, the eyes of both Specialists went very wide, and they looked at her in shock.

Sparkshower quickly dismounted the bed. "Uhm, Sergeant, this isn't what it looks like."

"Oh? Specialist Glamerspear is not taking the pictures scandalous and erotic of you?"

They exchanged glances, and she changed her tune. "Uh, maybe, a little, yeah."

Ebonshield smiled even more widely. "Excellent. If you wish for privacy, then I will leave you. But otherwise, if I can be of any help, then I am here."

Sparkshower sighed. "Well, actually..."

‘Yes...?’

"...Do you think we could use your room in about an hour? You've got those super sun-blocking curtains, and I need a darkroom to develop the photos afterwards. I promise we won't make a mess!"

‘Ah.’

Not wanting to show her disappointment, the batpony kept up her smile. "Of course. I will simply put a few things away first, then I will sleep on the sofa while you work."

Artemis smiled amiably. "Gosh, thanks! I'll make sure to open the window afterwards so there's no smell either."

‘Smell?’

Ebonshield was not entirely certain that this friendliness would not eventually get her into trouble.

Exhausted, she deposited the morning's spoils in the closet, removed her armor, grabbed her blanket, and settled down onto the couch in the common room to sleep.

Recommended viewing: Punching the Clock
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kerUbfOQTW0

Chapter 115

Purity Ebonshield

Estellar-- No, for this was the surface of Equestria.

Sergeant First Class Purity Ebonshield struggled to open her tired eyes against the dogged resistance they put up. But the door to the hallway had just clicked open, so she must awaken. A reaction trained over decades, the well-ingrained instinct could not be ignored, even when sleeping in this safest and most guarded of places.

Nearly blinded by the afternoon daylight which streamed in through the open bedroom doors of the Specialists Sparkshower and Glamerspear, Ebonshield saw the gleaming figure of the Corporal Bound stepping into the common area of their quarters. A moment passed before her eyes adjusted to the unexpected brightness, yet still the corporal shimmered and glowed.

Or rather, her armor did.

The corporal sighed and yawned, then glanced to see the batpony lying on the sofa underneath a light blanket. Her gaze passed Ebonshield’s closed bedroom door, from whence muffled speech could be heard.

"Sergeant? Why are you sleeping out here? Who's in there? Is something wrong with your room?"

‘I may as well wake the whole way up.’

Shaking her head, Ebonshield pushed off the cover and sluggishly slid off the sofa to put her hooves down on the ground. "No, nothing is wrong. The Specialists Glamerspear and Sparkshower are merely in there presently."

The corporal raised an eyebrow. "Using your room? For what?"

Bringing a forehoof up to her muzzle as she yawned, Ebonshield stretched her wings. Ay, she felt stiff and cramped from her afternoon siesta -- not to mention the things which she did before. That nap was almost all she had slept in the last twenty-four hours, but she could not go back to sleep yet.

"For the developing of photographs which they have just now taken. This was at my offering."

After considering the situation for a moment, Honour shrugged. "Okay. The Royal Engineer's dismissed me for the day. He said he's still worn out from last night, and won't be taking any visitors or making any trips outside his bedroom."

This was a sentiment the sergeant could certainly understand, multiplied considerably by her late-morning engagement in the Rookery warehouse. But if she was going to be up, she may as well work out the kinks which had built up in her body from the rest somewhat uncomfortable; not to mention the gruelling ceiling work in the Rookery. And since her room was presently occupied, she would make use of the room of the Specialist Sparkshower instead.

But before Sergeant Ebonshield got there, she shot another glance at the Corporal Bound. She was a tidy soldier in general, but despite the signs of tiredness still lying upon her face, her armor today seemed to be an immaculateness especial.

"May I say, Corporal, that your armor shines with a radiance particular at this moment."

A little sluggishly, Honour replied as she took a step towards the sideboard and the communal copper water-jug. "Thanks. I gave it a serious parade-polish earlier; before dismissing me, Anonymous had me deliver a letter to Her Majesty Princess Celestia."

Such a delivery important would certainly explain her appearance.

"Ah, of course! And may I ask the contents of this letter?"

She nodded as she poured herself a cup of water and drank. "It was just him telling Her Majesty about the steam-car, offering a demonstration at Her Majesty's convenience."

Backing up against one edge of the bedroom door frame of the Specialist Sparkshower, Ebonshield extended her forehooves out against the opposite edge, one above the other, and began to work on stretching her shoulders.

"He does this already? I thought we wished to practice a few more times. And I have yet to attempt to command the vehicle."

Honour shrugged, sitting on her haunches and still holding the cup in one forehoof. "I told him that, but he pointed out that with Celestia's busy schedule, it was worth trying to get onto Her Majesty's calendar sooner rather than later. Even asking now, with the Gala around the corner, it could be two weeks before we get a time-slot. That sort of delay will leave us plenty of room to get a few more sessions in."

The batpony nodded in response. "I see."

As she worked on her shoulders and forelegs, Ebonshield glanced inside the bedroom of the pegasus. She and the unicorn had still left quite a mess of clothing and accessories piled up around the floor. And the chambers of the Specialist Glamerspear were no less cluttered, with a trail visible of baubles and trinkets that had been hauled from one bedroom to the other. Clearly they had taken a great many photographs, in a variety of costumes. Surely there will be many of them worthy of...

‘Hmmm, just what does the pegasita plan to do with them?’

Pushing her hooves up higher on the door-frame, Ebonshield pondered this question as she worked on muscles still sore from clutching at stalactites for hours.

Finishing her drink, the corporal walked over to the card-table, put down her cup, then stopped to look the batpony over. "You know, Sergeant, I've been thinking -- about what you said last night, about me taking the lead in combat-training the Royal Engineer."

An inquisitive mixture of relief and strain escaped Ebonshield’s mouth in the form of a grunt, as she closed her eyes and pushed her foreleg-muscles closer to their limit.

"Ah?"

Honour removed her helmet slowly, placing the metal armor piece on the table beside her. "I was thinking, if you want me to do that; if you don't feel comfortable being completely in charge of Anonymous' combat education, maybe it would make sense for me to have a little training from you, first."

Sergeant Ebonshield opened her eyes and halted her exercise.

‘That is a question most unusual.’

"Oh? I am not opposed, but why? Is there some skill which you believe that you lack?"

The corporal sucked in on her lower lip, bobbing her head slightly to the side. "It's like I told you last night -- earth ponies aren't the stars of the show in the Royal Guard. I can never get wings or a horn, but... some of the moves you showed off against those shadow-sand creatures didn't seem to depend upon flight. I was wondering if you had any more of them. Maybe you could teach me a few."

‘She is perceptive indeed, to have noticed so fine a detail.’

No fighting art of the Children could afford to use the wings in every maneuver, or in every attack; they were too important as heat-sinks to risk by attack or exhaustion, and so every repertoire included much fighting with the four legs alone, the wings held out or flapped gently to cool the blood and the body. The management of heat, and by extension the management of exhaustion, was at the root of all such techniques. Even the Temples famous for flight, such as the Swarming Meteors, used this flight only to open the battle. An often decisive opening, to be sure, but after such exertion as required to pounce on their foes, the subsequent attacks were preferably terrestrial, intended to finish off an enemy previously grounded by that first charge -- at least until the body was cool and the way was clear to rise up and charge once more.

Ebonshield nodded her head. "You are correct. There is much about the Shining Stellar Dance which does not require wings, especially for one with the fortitude of your kind."

Sighing, she returned to her exercises. "And I am willing to teach you -- but you must understand, ours is a Temple mystical. Our training is very unlike the Royal Guard from which you come." Stepping forward and up onto her hind hooves, she pressed her belly against the door frame, then began to arch backwards. "Even the other Temples, which have their own rituals and rites, all aspire to master the arts of war. But the Temple of the Shining Stellar Dance treats combat as a pathway to the enlightenment spiritual."

Ebonshield’s mane spread out on the carpet as her forehooves touched the ground behind her hind hooves, as she completed the 'upside-down bridge.' Smiling as she stared at the carpet, she slowly lifted her left hind-hoof up into the air.

"Without this enlightenment, there can be no learning."

When her weight was properly shifted onto her forehooves, the right hind-hoof followed the left, and she brought them together to grasp the wall, her tail brushing the edge of the frame. Slowly, the batpony lifted herself up, straddling either side of the opposite edge with her hind hooves, with forehooves free before her. Finally, she reached those forehooves to the top of the opening and seized the top of that portal between them, hanging like a drawn curtain from the upper corner of the frame. After pausing there a moment, she slowly bent all four of her knees, thrusting her barrel out and down as far as possible, and arching her neck and head back until her muzzle touched the door-frame and her mane touched her back. She closed her eyes once more.

Corporal Bound grunted. "If it's the kind of enlightenment that allows you to pull off gymnastics like that, I've done a little of it before, believe it or not."

‘Oh?’

Extending her wings, the flexible batpony let go and snapped her four legs and back into their normal positions, releasing the door-frame and landing softly on the ground. A flick of her neck threw her untamed mane back out of her eyes.

"Indeed? I did not know that the Royal Guard practiced such exercises."

The Corporal Bound shook her head. "They don't. It was something I did myself."

Chuckling dismissively, the earth pony inhaled deeply. "...After my divorce, before I joined the VIP section, I spent a little time experimenting with all sorts of stuff outside of work. My life had fallen apart for a bit, you see. I guess you could say I was trying to find myself again."

Getting down to lie on her back in front of the door frame, Ebonshield prepared for the next exercise -- 'shoulders-form-the-seat-for-the-body.' "May I understand from your tone that you felt none of these experiments succeeded?"

Honour nodded as the batpony spread her forelegs to support her withers and began to push her hind legs and quarters up into the air.

"Yeah. A few of them were spiritual adventures of sorts -- funny stuff with candles and incense and strange poses -- but I struggled to get into the same frame of mind as the teacher, or even the other students. Sitting around meditating wasn't for me, I guess. Other experiences were more energetically physical, if still gymnastic, and I got into them a bit more, though none of them really worked or stuck with me."

By now, Ebonshield’s hind legs were vertical in the air above her, her tail draping down inelegantly on both sides of her torso, with only her forelegs, head, neck, and withers still on the ground.

"In the end, jettisoning my baggage by transferring out of my hometown and into the VIP section was what pulled me together again, not any of those esoteric activities."

The batpony was curious to hear the corporal speaking so candidly about her past, even if she skipped over many of the details.

Still holding the inverted pose, Ebonshield answered her. "Maestro Romà de Balj, founder of my Temple, said this about the journey spiritual: 'Enlightenment is like a mountain with the Great Mother at the top. But this mountain is too tall to climb directly, and she is surrounded by ferocious winds to prevent all flight. The only way up, therefore, is to ponderously spiral around or zig-zag across her. When two Children meet each other as they walk on different paths upwards, each says to the other, 'You fool, you are going the wrong way!'"

Finally allowing herself to relax, the batpony slowly uncurled her back until she was once again lying flat on the ground. "But what matters is not the path exact; only that one is always ascending."

Honour glanced down at her prone figure. "Fair point, I guess."

Ebonshield rolled back onto her hooves and stood up as the earth pony continued.

"That quote, and these poses you're doing, reminds me of a few of the more 'philosophical' things I tried. I suppose memorizing the Maestro's quotes is part of your Temple's training? Parables and gymnastics to start, daggers and assassinations later?"

The batpony whinnied amiably, walking her forehooves forwards while holding her hind hooves in place, slowly prostrating herself towards the wall, performing the 'loyal-dog-bows-to-master' posture. "Generally, yes. The Temples take in children to train, and children are always overeager for the energetic practices physical; the learning of wisdoms and the stretches slow and laborious such as these are a way to temper that eagerness. All of the Star-Temples have the strategies similar in this regard. They are distinguished by the details of their techniques, and by the objective final."

With her forehooves stretched out so far that she now stepped them forwards on their heels instead of the soles, Ebonshield continued. "But you are not a child, Corporal. You have already learned restraint. We can dispense with much of the abstract and metaphysical in favor of concrete exercises, if that is what you wish."

"Sure. And when do the smoke grenades come in?"

Ebonshield chuckled, her barrel almost scraping the ground as her forelegs were nearly horizontal, while her hindquarters was still raised up, with her tail held high in the air. "They come when they are necessary. We are assassins, after all. Often we are required to go into places where we should not be, and we have many little tools such as these to assist us in this work."

Honour narrowed her eyes slightly. "I noticed you didn't use any in your fight against Marcos. Or against Ignacio's sand-shadow puppets."

The batpony shrugged, as much as she was able in her outstretched position. "They are tricks, and I treat them as tricks. Against the Ghosts of Ignacio, I was demonstrating technique, not tricks. And I did not need any tricks to beat Marcos."

Slowly, she began to walk her forehooves back, raising herself up. "But I do carry some of these tools with me. If my initiates had not appeared, I might have used something to help neutralize the rest of the Meteors while I dealt with Marcos, in the hopes that they would be unable to overcome you before I could beat their leader -- and that they would then give up once he was down."

Honour picked up her helmet, fidgeting slightly with it in her forehooves. "You know, things like smoke-bombs or whatever else you might have could be of great use to the Royal Engineer. He's learning to fight for defensive reasons, after all."

That is a concept which had occurred to the sergeant, but one she rejected, owing partially to the secrecy around the Stellar devices, but partially to another reason. Standing herself up properly, she took a deep breath, rolling her shoulders and hips to loosen them up.

"His request was to learn how to fight, not how to be an assassin. Grenades filled with choking gas are for equalizing the odds when one Stellar tries to escape from the bodyguards of a target. In the duel to which the Royal Engineer was challenged, if he should have used one, would that not have been seen as dishonorable?"

The corporal frowned. "Maybe. It's questionable. He is the Royal 'Engineer,' after all. He'd be expected to show some 'ingenuity.' Once we show off this 'Self-Propelled Air Defense' battle wagon of his, anyone going up against him will certainly expect to see him rely on tools to win a fight." Lifting her eyebrows, she tapped the gleaming helmet. "He may even already know how your smoke bombs are made. There's a whole section on chemical explosives in his theory book."

"If that is true, and if they would be useful to him, then why has he not made them himself?"

"Because he doesn't necessarily know the best way to defend himself. And, as you said, you're not sure you do, either. But I think if we make sure to point out all the options, to try to give him the pros and cons, go over scenarios, that sort of stuff, then he's clever enough to figure out the right way in-between."

Defeated by her logic, Ebonshield bowed her head. "That is a fair argument. I regret not having taken this approach."

A clever thought came to mind, and a smile spread on her face as she raised her neck back up again. "Now, if you wish to learn the Stellar Dance, will you not begin by joining me in these exercises? I am curious to see the forms you have been taught."

Honour grimaced slightly. "I'm... a little rusty. I think I can maybe get my forehooves out half as far as you did just now in that last one. I've never clambered around a door-frame like you did, but I used to be pretty good at the on-your-back-hind-hooves-in-the-air pose, though."

Gritting her teeth, she looked around. "It's probably not a great idea to start right now, when I'm still kinda tired, and right here, where there's a bunch of Her Majesty's furniture for me to crash into."

Ebonshield was not entirely convinced that she was refusing. Eagerly, she stepped up towards the corporal, wiping her hooves and setting them on the sofa arm. "Then let us push the furniture away to make more room. I will spot for you, and the carpet will absorb whatever fall I fail to catch."

Honour stared at her, looking a little afraid, so she continued, widening her grin. "Or do you complain that these chambers are too humble? Shall we light candles and burn incense, as you say your other teachers did?"

This joke restored the corporal’s typical dismissive look, though this wasn’t quite as harsh as when either Glamerspear or Sparkshower did something silly.

"Look, no offense; if this is what's involved in learning your techniques, I do want to get into it, and we could even do it here, but with the impromptu libo tonight I was hoping to take a shower and then step out for a bit."

The sergeant raised both eyebrows. "Ah? To see again this Sargento Castlerook, perhaps?"

Honour didn’t answer, so the batpony proceeded with the finishing touch, rolling her shoulders seductively. "...May I point out that these exercises have the applications in the bedroom as well?"

Honour snorted, nodding her head with a small smirk. "Yeah, I know. That's why I got into them; I was--"

Halting to furrow her brow, the smirk disappeared and she waves a forehoof dismissively, turning to go. "...Ah, never mind. You go ahead with your exercises, Ebonshield. If I start spilling my history, we could be here all night."

Ebonshield placed a hoof on her chest. "I have no engagements -- No meeting with my Gilbertito tonight. I am still too tired from something which I had to do last night, in the Rookery."

Stopping in her tracks, Honour’s face suddenly went stern. "Nothing to do with your family, I hope?"

The batpony shook her head. "No. Elsewhere, with my initiates. And your history with the gymnastics?"

Swallowing, the corporal inhaled deeply through her nose, her nostrils flaring. "Well... When it was clear that my marriage was over, even before the paperwork was all finished, everypony was telling me to hit the 'scene' again -- the dating scene, I mean. Catch myself another colt ASAP..."

Flattening her ears, she shook her head. "...The thing is, I didn't feel like much of a catch myself. I never really had, and the Royal Guard isn't exactly known for producing fantastic pony specimens. Fit ponies, sure, but they treat us Earth Ponies as pack-mules. The kind of figure you need to haul fifty kilos for fifteen klicks is a healthy one, but it's not exactly graceful. Nopony's going to put a soldier on the cover of Cosmoponitan."

Shrugging, she continued. "That's part of the reason I got into all these weird gymnastic things. I was trying to tone myself up, make it so I wasn't just some draft mare with a strong back and nothing else going for me. I had visions of tearing up the dance floor, or even..."

Lowering her voice, a rosiness crept into her cheeks. "...Or even somehow tantric-ing myself a real stud. My ex had been considered one, after all. Part of me felt like partner number two ought to live up to the same standard set by the first."

An interesting proposal, but her last statement aroused Ebonshield’s curiosity. She hoped only that she was not treading on ground which was too delicate.

"How did you meet your husband? Was this before you joined the military?"

Honour sighed, but the sound was almost a grumble. "It was after I enlisted. I met him at a bar near the base."

Bringing one forehoof up, she brushed her muzzle in reflection. "He was stunningly attractive, socially outgoing in a way I never could be, and friendly with everypony he met. And I was lonesome, and growing tired of bunking with a bunch of drunk mares in the barracks. We had fun together. I don't think we dated for more than two months before getting hitched. At the time, I thought I was the luckiest mare in the world."

She shrugged her eyebrows, licking her lips. "That was an impression he made sure to fuel. At first, he pretended like he was the only one who saw through all the boring brown outside to something beautiful inside. After we got married, that romantic facade started to drop away, replaced with more abusive 'reminders.' Saying things like I'd never get it better than him."

Honour puts on a sneering grimace. "I think all he really saw in me was just the easiest mark in the world. Take my salary and do whatever he wanted with whatever mare he pleased when we're out on maneuvers or off on a deployment. I wouldn't be surprised if he was hoping we'd bang out a few kids together so I'd be hooked to him for life."

Grumbling, she shook her head. "That whole experience taught me something, Sergeant. I learned then that 'luck' is nothing more than another name for the feeling you get when you realize things are too good to be true -- and that's usually because they aren't."

Inhaling, she lifted her head up, stretching her neck. "...Sorry. I went off on a tangent there, I guess."

Ebonshield shook her head. "No, no, this is all right. I can understand very much how after such an experience you would wish to explore other opportunities. And..."

She hesitated; Honour had told of her history, yes -- but would the present day be more painful? And yet this might affect her presence of mind when the training begins. There were good reasons for starting the training with children, before the scars of adulthood.

"...And this philosophy of the luck, you still hold to her presently?"

Honour nodded. "Yeah, for better or for worse."

Blanking her face, Ebonshield tried to make clear that she did not ask the next question to ridicule her.

"Is this why you have yet to invite this colt with the voice which speaks passion tempered by wisdom, the Sergeant Castlerook, into your room? Even after he has almost carried you back here, on account of the alcohol?"

The face of the Corporal Bound hardened, but she couldn’t maintain her visage stern against the sergeant’s gaze impassive.

A little red crept into her cheeks. "That's... That thing has its own set of problems."

"Such as?"

The sternness reappeared, so Ebonshield softened her expression. "...I ask because the journey spiritual such as is involved in learning the Shining Stellar Dance is not to be undertaken lightly. These endeavors can be stressful. If you are stressed already in other parts of your life, your days will be more stressful still. I would be concerned for your health."

That explanation, which was truthful, seemed to mollify her.

Honour paused to collect herself, then answered. "It's... It's a combination of factors, there. I guess the luck thing is one of them, but the bigger one is that Castlerook has made it clear he wants to go back to live in Fillydelphia. I don't blame him; it can be a nice enough town, and my mom's there, and so is his family, and all his friends... and all my old friends, too. He said he wants to bring me back with him. I'm just not sure if I'm ready to give that burb another chance. I don't know if I ever will be."

She lowered her muzzle slightly, her eyelids drooping down along with her gaze. "And as for your specific question -- He hasn't asked to be let in; he knows what I went through too well to do that, I think. Part of me wishes he would ask, like it'd give me an excuse to say 'yes.' But because of my other hang-ups, and because I don't want to lead him false and maybe lose him as a friend, I haven't offered, either." Honour sighed again. "Not that I haven't thought about doing it. Or even planned to do it. I just always seem to lose my nerve at the end."

Ebonshield nodded considerately, but the corporal just looked away and put one forehoof in her mouth to nibble nervously upon. Then she swallowed, returning to a seated pose.

"... Sorry to dump my problems on you, Eb."

The batpony shrugged amiably. "There is no trouble, Honour."

The earth pony nodded, sighing once more. "It's, uhm... It's kinda nice to talk to somepony about this. It's sort of been building up in me a bit." The Corporal inhaled deeply, then puffed up her cheeks as she exhaled. "...Thinking about tonight has got me all tense again, and this after I was feeling pretty relaxed about things after that massage in the Rookery's 'Well of Life.'"

‘Of course they were taken there; this was only natural for Carmen to do so.’

"Did Carmen massage you herself?"

Honour chuckled and shook her head. "Her? Me? No way; she thought I was just Anonymous' consort. He got the personal treatment from the Reverend Mother Superior. I got hoofed by 'Sister Lucretia.’" She licked her lips. "...Not that I'm complaining; it was incredible. I wouldn't have signed up for it myself, but you won't hear me say 'no' if they invite me in for a second go."

Ebonshield shrugged. "Nopony would. That is the whole point of the Vestibule of Priests: a place where desires are satisfied, and some Children would do anything, even kill, if thus allowed to enter once more."

"I figured. I'm pretty sure I heard a colt having his 'desires' satisfied around the corner as they led us in." She raised an eyebrow. "They really make deals like that in there? Murder this pony for us, and we'll let you in for another go around the nubile young 'Reverend Brothers and Sisters'?"

Ebonshield took a deep breath. "Yes, but usually not to extract such violence. For this kind of work, there are the Stellars. But in each Rookery, all sorts of deals are brokered in front of and behind that curtain of water. Including the ones involving my Temple."

Honour narrowed her eyes. "The Lunars are your brokers? Why? Why not take contracts all by yourselves?"

Ebonshield lifted her eyebrows, sucking on her lips so that they smacked when she opened her mouth. "This is the deal that Maestro Roma de Balj struck with the Lunars, when the phases were first arranged. We would be ranked among the Stars, and allowed our 'little' heresies, and sanctioned to practice our disreputable profession, but only if a Lunar was present at each deal. This was their way of ensuring that no darker-phase Child would dare employ us to strike down the priests, who in their structure must be held inviolate." She grinned. "Of course, that did not prevent the Lunars of one House from paying us to attack those of another. But this was a pact made before the rise of the Great Houses themselves."

Honour nodded. "Of course."

Suddenly aware of the mess behind the batpony, the corporal tilted her head slightly to peer around Ebonshield’s head and into the two open doors. "Just what kind of photos were those two idiots taking? It looks like they've trashed both their rooms. I hope for our sake nopony drops in to conduct a surprise inspection."

The sergeant struggled to find an acceptable answer, when the door to her bedroom opened and the Specialist Glamerspear stepped out, a dimming red orb glowing above her head.

As the Specialist Sparkshower followed around her, she stopped to rub her eyes. "Whew! It's nice to be back in daylight again. Any more red light and I think I'd go blind -- or get hairy hooves."

The pegasus turned to her unicorn comrade. "Sorry. I guess maybe we shouldn't have developed them all in one go--"

She suddenly noticed the sergeant and the corporal in the far corner. "...Oh, Corporal! You're back early. And Sergeant, sorry -- we're all done with your room. I've opened the window to air it out; I just have to put away my supplies and the film. Did you want me to clean that up right now?"

Turning to face her, Ebonshield shook her head. "No, I have no need for my room at present. Shall we have dinner first?"

The pegasus was visibly excited by her proposal. "Oh, sure, Sergeant! Absolutely!"

Behind the batpony, the Corporal Bound narrowed her eyes. "Just what have you two been up to all afternoon?"

Glamerspear had turned off her light magical, yet still the cheeks of Sparkshower showed red. "Uhm. Just some photos, Corporal... Personal photos."

"How personal are we talking here?"

Honour looked over at Glamerspear, and the unicorn shook her head and shrugged dismissively. "Nothing we could get in trouble for." Then a mischievous smile appeared. "Except maybe that last roll, eh, Sparks?"

The eyes of Specialist Sparkshower were as wide as the sun, and her cheeks as red as the ring of an eclipse.

Glamerspear elbowed the silent pegasus. "C'mon, centerfold. Why don'tcha bring out a few strips and that loupe. You wanted my opinion on every shot, why not get a second or third, hot off the presses?"

The unicorn nodded in Ebonshield’s direction, and the Specialist Sparkshower looked over at her. The batpony smiled, trying to hide her eagerness at the prospect of seeing their results.

"If you wish me to give my opinion, I will do so gladly -- and you may trust that I will keep shut my muzzle to anypony else."

Attention fell on the Corporal Bound, who paused for a moment, then rolled her eyes. "All right, sure, yeah. I'll take a look at your 'reading material' if you want me to, and I won't tell anypony either."

With some little trepidation, the Specialist Sparkshower re-entered the sergeant’s room, rummaged around, and soon emerged with several small strips of film and a magnifying loupe, all of which she placed on the coffee table in front of the sofa.

"Okay. Uhm. Here's... Here's the strips with most of the best shots, at least I think so -- and Lily thinks so too. They're just negatives, so the light and dark parts are reversed. I wasn't ready to print anything yet."

With a wave of her forehoof, Ebonshield indicated for the corporal to go first. Cameras were an Equestrian invention, and she wished to see how these 'negatives' were used first.

The Corporal Bound sat on the sofa, holding with one forehoof the loupe against one eye with the other eye closed, and the other forehoof holding the strip. In front of her, the Specialist Glamerspear had made appear a very bright white ball of light, into which Honour stared with the loupe and strip of film.

"Interesting..."

She slid the strip along, stopping at the next photograph.

"...I see..."

Again, the next image.

"...Huh..."

And the final one of the four.

"...Okay."

These words inconclusive did not suffice for the Specialist Sparkshower.

"What do you think, Corporal?"

Honour Bound cleared her throat. "It's a little hard to follow in the negatives, but I see what you were going for."

With the loupe now retained against her eye, she lowered her hooves in order to trade the first strip of film for another. "You know, you've got a pretty toned plot, when it isn't all encased in armor."

"You really think so?! Oh, gosh! I'm so relieved..."

At that moment somepony knocked at the door. And once again, the eyes of the Specialist Sparkshower went wide and her cheeks burned with red fire, her forehooves shaking excitedly in the air.

"HurricanesThunderstormsAndTornadoes! HideThemHideThemHideThemHideThem!"

Once the photos were hastily gathered up and then tucked unceremoniously underneath the stack of the magazines, the Specialist Glamerspear went to answer the door. To the surprise of all of them, their guest was none other than the Engineer Royal, who stood on the other side wearing his dress shirt, vest, trousers, and shoes, but not his jacket.

Only the Corporal Bound, with the loupe mistakenly still pressed into her eye, overcame the confusion to answer him.

"Sir?"

He cleared his throat. "I'm sorry for interrupting. I know I previously dismissed you for the day. And I know I'm not really supposed to be up on the servants' floor..."

Then he held up a cream-colored scroll, the red ribbon already undone and golden seal already broken. "...But this appeared moments ago in a puff of smoke on my dining table."

He looked at each of them, and swallowed deeply, appearing somewhat disturbed. "...It's from Princess Celestia. She wants us to do the demonstration for her tomorrow morning."

‘Ay-ay-ay-ay-ay!’

‘No siesta for the weary…’

Suggested interlude music: BenDan Productions - 'Battlefield Theme Acoustic Cover (Mariachi Style)', original composed by Joel Eriksson)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MbC5mUU_z8s

Author's Note

115 chapters! How about that? It's been a long journey getting this far, and I'm very grateful to have such a wonderful audience!

We're starting to get close to the end of the existing, written content for the story. To stave off the drop-off, we'll be moving to an every-third-day schedule. Sorry for applying the brakes some more, but I'd hate to cut everyone off abruptly. Chapter 116 will follow on Tuesday. Stick around! :twilightsmile:

Chapter 116

Honour Bound

This was the biggest day that Corporal Honour Bound had faced in a long time.

And, potentially, the most stressful.

Which was saying a lot, considering recent events:

Unwillingly engaging in a Pas-de-Sabots against Equestria's premier air superiority team; Getting thrown into the thick of the Royal Guard's own 'Don't-Ask-Don't-Tell' policy on Batponies; Meeting Princess Luna, and basking in the full force of her magical 'presence;' The constant need to police her two 'shoe specialists; Learning to drive the Royal Engineer's self-powered carriage; Going up against Batponies in their own subterranean den -- twice, now, and even dealing with the Royal Engineer's foibles and failures in understanding Equestrian social rules, not to mention trying to teach him how to fight.

None of that compared to putting on a demonstration for the Princess of the Sun Herself.

So, naturally, the corporal was a little on edge, concerned with making sure everything went right.

‘When I push open the door to our quarters, I damn well better see everypony either already ready to roll, or seconds away from it.’

Placing a hoof on the handle, Honour threw the door open with just enough force to make her intentions clear. "Alright, it's time to move out. I hope you're all ready."

To her relief, Sparkshower and Glamerspear were in plain sight, illuminated by two glowing white orbs with thin teal tethers. Glam was in the washroom, projecting the light-balls while simultaneously holding up a pair of small scissors in her telekinetic aura, trimming the bangs of her mane to stop it from poking down underneath the brow of her helmet. But she had the rest of her armor on, and it looked parade ready. Sparkshower was sitting patiently in the common room, armor polished, caparison clean, and Bradamante Lance resting ready on the sofa. Both of them lifted their eyes to meet Honour’s, and they exchanged glances.

"Anonymous will meet us in the carriage house. Where's Ebonshield?"

Glamerspear leaned out of the washroom, shrugging her shoulders. "She hasn't left her room yet."

‘Not an encouraging sign.’

‘First things first, though.’

Honour turned to the pegasus. "Did you check in with the VIP Office?"

Yesterday afternoon, Sparkshower had scrambled to deliver a letter to Major-General Hoofstrong about the presentation. After all, the deal for her approving the exercises had been to invite the general to the final show as well. But the major-general had gone off base, and there was no word back from the Watchtower to confirm that she'd received the message -- at least none before they’d turned in for the night. In a bit of quick thinking, Specialist Sparkshower asked Lieutenant Cloudhunter, the Major-General's aide-de-camp, to send a confirmation to the Canterlot Palace Military Office, VIP section. There was always somepony at the duty desk there, twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. While Honour went downstairs to meet the Royal Engineer, Sparkshower was supposed to visit the office to pick up a reply.

The pegasus nodded her head. "Yes, Corporal, I did! And there was a message from Lieutenant Cloudhunter saying that the general had received the message. She'll be arriving with a small entourage."

That was good, at least; the Royal Engineer's obligation was fulfilled. Though it did mean there’d be even more of an audience for their performance, making it all the more important that the 'commander' of the vehicle be up and ready to go...

"Okay." Honour nodded towards the sergeant's bedroom door. "Has she said anything? Anypony know what time she got back last night?"

Yesterday, after Sparkshower delivered the Royal Engineer's hastily-written invitation to the general, Ebonshield had skipped out on dinner, stating that she needed to go out and 'check' something before the demonstration. At the time, Honour had thought she meant scouting the field -- which, being after dark, only made sense to do as a batpony. But when Eb didn't get back by the time they’d all turned in, the corporal figured out she meant something else.

Just what that was, she didn't know.

The observant pegasus in the room cleared her throat. "Uhm. It was pretty late, Corporal. After midnight, I think."

Honour raised an eyebrow. "After midnight? You were up?"

Looking a bit embarrassed, Sparkshower shrugged. "I had trouble sleeping... I was too excited about today..."

That was unfortunate, but the corporal was not going to blame her; she’d spent plenty of time drifting in and out of sleep, too.

Artemis continued, still looking embarrassed. "...I heard heavy hoofsteps coming in..."

Swallowing, she lowered her voice and stretched a hoof and a wing out beside her muzzle, glancing at the Sergeant's door. "...Corporal, I heard a pegasus' wings fluttering in at the same time."

‘Now what in Tartarus?’

Noticing the conspiracy, and done with her mane, Glamerspear stepped out of the washroom and over to the sofa. Honour headed over as well and whispered back.

"A pegasus?"

Specialist Sparkshower nodded. "Yes, Corporal. And I think the hoofsteps were from the pegasus, too; the Sergeant's step is so light that sometimes I can't hear it if there's anything else. They must have come in together."

Honour exchanged glances with Glamerspear, who quietly snorted before piping up. "Coming back with a pegasus after going out to 'check' something? What was she checking? That she can still score a one-night stand on a Saturday night?"

It was an awful joke, and Honour wanted to believe that the sergeant wouldn't do something so whimsical before such a big day, but then again, they’d talked about her love life last night, not Ebonshield’s. And she'd never mentioned anything about being one hundred percent committed to her current unicorn college-colt.

Honour cleared her throat and looked at the door. "Well, I'm giving her -- or them -- two more minutes and then I'm knocking on the door. We've got to get going. The Royal Engineer will be waiting for us."

Glamerspear brushed a stray hair off of her armored kilt. "How's our hoofless VIP doing? Did he seem ready?"

Corporal Bound shook her head. "I don't know. I didn't see him; he just left a note inside his room."

The unicorn blinked. "He's already up, dressed, and in the garage? Damn, and I thought we got up early. It's not even dawn!"

It was an hour before sunrise, and although the common area of their quarters was well-lit by Glamerspear's magical illumination, the rest of the palace was cool and shadowed, though the sky was growing brighter by the minute.

Continuing, she shook her head. "I ain't complainin', but why in Equestria would Her Majesty want to do this right after raising the sun on a Monday morning? You'd think she'd want, like, a coffee break after that job, not a military demonstration. Regular day court begins in a couple of hours!"

Honour sighed. "Glamerspear, why do you think we're doing the demonstration right after the Sun comes up -- and the Moon goes down?"

The unicorn gave her a blank look, and even Sparkshower seemed confused.

Honour scrunched up the side of her muzzle at the obviousness of the answer. "It's because Princess Luna is probably going to attend as well. Don't forget who's in this quaternion."

Sparkshower let out a long 'Oooooooh,' but Glamerspear just took a deep breath and then brushed her mailed hoof against her muzzle.

"Damn. Performing for two Princesses and a Major-General. And who knows who else the General is going to be bringing. This is going to be a show."

The earth pony nodded. "That's why we need to make sure it's a good one."

There was the sound of a moving door-handle, and all three of them perked up -- necks and ears -- and turned to await the final member of their quaternion. But when the door opened, it wasn't the dark purple batpony sergeant standing there. Instead, against the pitch-black background of the closed-curtain bedroom, was a pale mauve pegasus mare, in ordinary Royal Guard regalia. And she looked a little embarrassed by the attention.

Glamerspear immediately tilted her head back, scoffing. "Are you bucking kidding me? Robbing the cradle at the Scholia wasn't enough for the sergeant, now she's picking up Royal Guardsponies for her personal conquests -- and a MARE at that?!"

Honour didn't think the sergeant would do something like that -- picking up a date before a big day, that is, not swinging for a Guardsmare. Whatever Ebonshield’s preferences or tastes in the bedroom were, she really didn't care. But the pegasus, who seemed at first so stunned at finding her one-night-stand's common room fully occupied well before dawn, stepped confidently forward.

"And what if I did, Specialista Glamerspear? Would you interfere in my life private?"

The body was absolutely that of a pegasus member of the Royal Guard, but the voice was unmistakably that of their batpony comrade.

As Glamerspear's jaw dropped open, Sparkshower vocalized her disbelief. "SERGEANT?!?"

The mysterious pegasus apparition smiled. "Yes. I am glad to know that my disguise has fooled even you three. I conducted a test last night, which was successful, but the ones who know you well, sometimes they can see through this."

Raising a hoof, she pulled at some invisible thing around her neck. The image of the pegasus shifted and wavered, and suddenly it was Ebonshield's regular, dark head on the lighter pegasus body.

"This is an armor magical, which disguises the wearer, as you can see. I think I do not need to explain further at this time."

Honour was not so sure about that.

Narrowing her eyes, she swallowed. "This another one of your rarely-used 'Stellar Dance' tools?"

Ebonshield shook her head -- her normal head, still exposed, with a blurry, wavy line around her neck where the illusion began. Underneath Eb’s forehoof, Honour could just make out the top of what looked like a stiff linen collar and the barest sliver of attached shoulders.

‘Is that some kind of magical linothorax armor?’

‘Like Bronzehorn pointed out?’

"No. This is not particular to my Temple." Releasing the collar, the batpony became one hundred percent pegasus again. "These were made for and used during the invasion. There are only a few of them left."

Glamerspear scoffed. "Oh, and your mom just happily let you borrow one for the day, huh?"

Pegasus-Ebonshield smiled. "Nopony knows I have taken this. This is what I performed in the Rookery yesterday morning. And today, nopony will know I am anything other than what I appear to be -- except the Great Mother and Her sister, of course."

No shock that the two Princesses would be able to see through an illusion. Honour bet it probably didn’t hold up too well to physical scrutiny, either. They would all have to make sure to keep anypony from touching Ebonshield during, or after, the demonstration.

It felt like she was resigning herself to this outcome, but in truth this couldn't be better; no batpony on display equals no ruffled feathers or potential violations of Don't-Ask-Don't-Tell. Even if many of the ponies attending already knew about the sergeant being part of the Royal Engineer's entourage, it would have made sense that they might have gotten somepony else to work the demonstration. Part of the reason for Don't-Ask-Don't-Tell was because the Royal Guard and the Night Guard didn't mix too well.

Nodding, Honour headed for the main door. "All right. Let's not waste any more time talking here. Come on -- to the garage."

There was a loud clattering of armored hooves as the quaternion stood up. Only Sparkshower and Honour Bound had actual physical weapons, but all the armor -- real or illusory -- still made quite a racket moving around. Exiting the door, they marched quietly down the hallway, two-by-two.

Along the way, Honour turned to scrutinize the pegasus-sergeant beside her. Nothing stood out as fake. The armor looked real, and it made realistic noises while she walked. The wings seemed properly feathered, too, and Sparkshower must have heard the Sergeant in disguise when she claimed to hear pegasus wings last night.

There may be a few loose ends, however.

"You'll need a false name and rank, Sergeant. It might come up if we do a questions and answers type of thing after the scripted demo. Or if the Royal Engineer needs to introduce us."

She nodded, blinking her deep-lilac eyes.

‘Wait -- those are still the same color as her normal eyes.’

‘Interesting.’

As Ebonshield replied, the corporal noticed that the pegasus' coat color was really just a lighter shade of her natural hue. "Yes. Today, I am Sergeant Blackspear -- and not 'sergeant first class,' either, but an ordinary sergeant. I am from the Canterlot Palace Military Office, VIP section, under the Lieutenant Violetta."

It wasn't perfect -- 'VIP section' came out as 'BIP section,' and even 'Blackspear' had a hint of an extra vowel in the middle.

"Your accent is still a problem. It'll sound Griffonese to anyone who doesn't know about your kind. But we probably don't want the people who know about batponies to realize you're disguised, either -- except the Princesses."

Ebonshield sucked in on her lips. "I am aware. This is a difficult deception; I have not been trained in the Equestrian language as the Lunars are. I will try to keep my statements short. 'Yes,' 'No,' 'Roger,' 'Sergeant Blackspear.'"

Glamerspear chimed up from the rear. "Sounds good enough to me. Toss in some 'Sirs' and 'Ma'ams' and you're good."

Heading downstairs and opening the door at the end of the hallway, Honour stepped out into the cool, early-morning air. The door guards stood to attention, and the four of them collectively nodded in turn.

Underneath a dark blue sky slowly growing brighter, the quaternion proceeded along the paved walkway from the main building to the large coach house and garage, while the sergeant continued to practice her short-form Equestrian.

"'Yes, sir.' 'No, sir.' 'Yes, ma'am.' 'No, ma'am.' 'Sergeant Blackspear, sir.'..."

Honour wondered if Ebonshield’s cutie mark had been preserved as well. Better make sure nopony took off their armor, either, or it could also give away the deception. Not to mention informing the Lieutenant of the deception, so that she could corroborate 'Sergeant Blackspear's' claims.

"Hopefully Lieutenant Vi shows up before the rest of the guests so we can let her in on the deception."

Eb stopped practising her Equestrian. "This is not necessary. I have already spoken to her in her office last night."

The corporal raised an eyebrow, but Glamerspear blurted out before Honour could ask the obvious question. "You went and visited the Lieutenant in the VIP section HQ, in that phony-pegasus disguise, and didn't get caught?!"

The phony pegasus in question nodded. "Correct. I only had to speak to the receptionist, and if I failed to conceal my accent, they did not seem to notice. The Lieutenant herself was quite surprised, of course, but soon understood."

Honour shook her head in disappointment, and she heard the clinking of Glamerspear's armor as she did the same just behind her. "They just let a heavily-accented phony pegasus walk right into a Lieutenant's private office without checking?! So much for the anti-Changeling-infiltration training and exercises! Tomorrow we'll find out Queen Chrysalis got her buggy self certified as an official photographer for this demo!"

Arriving at the end of the walkway, the earth pony pulled open the coach-house side-door. It was much darker than the palace in there, with smaller windows that let in barely enough light to see by. There were magical torches lit up ahead in one of the carriage bays -- and Honour knew it was the bay where the Royal Engineer's carriage was kept.

There was an eerie silence in the garage, too.

Suggested background music: Thomas Newman - 'The Axiom', from 'WALL-E' [2008]
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6-r6xOi7V0o

Rounding the short wall that separated his bay from the next, Honour found, to her surprise, not the Royal Engineer in his impeccable dress suit that she expected. But instead, he was sitting on a stool, wearing his dark work coveralls, his hair dishevelled, his brow sweaty and dirty, and his hands darkened with grease and paint. The floor of the stall was covered in beige drop cloths, and numerous magical candelabras burned brightly all around. There were tools and parts littered everywhere, too -- along with pieces of wood, bits of metal, splinters and shavings.

It was a mess, and so was the Royal Engineer. He was hunched over, his elbows on his knees and his hands hanging loose in front of him.

Honour spoke up in concern. "Sir? Are you all right? How long have you been up?"

Anonymous looked up at her with tired eyes, suppressing a yawn. "Since yesterday. I came here after dinner and worked through the night."

She was about to ask what he worked on, when she heard appreciative gasps from the ponies around and behind her.

"Wow. It's beautiful!"

"Whoa, nice!!"

"¡Gran Madre!"

Looking past her VIP, Honour’s eyes finally focused on the object which dominated the garage stall, and should have first caught her attention.

It was the carriage, but it was almost unrecognizable.

Honour had to circle around to take it all in -- and so did the rest of her group. Where before it was, in all respects, an ordinary dog-cart -- albeit without any limber or harness to be pulled by a pony, and with the addition of a few extra controls -- now it looked completely unlike any vehicle she’d ever seen before. The front, back and sides had been built up with wooden planks, like on an ordinary covered wagon. But where a wagon's front and back were as flat as its flanks, if tilted outwards at the top, the carriage had a pointed bow and stern, just like those of a sailing ship. And what's more, instead of a canvas roof supported by hoops, the wooden planks angled in at the top, then lay flat, to form a semi-closed compartment, with one round hole towards the back, and a large rectangular one towards the front.

The whole assembly was painted in a drab and unassuming grey, obscuring the seams between the wooden planks. In the center of each of the side walls there was a white circle with three stylized wings protruding from it -- the triskelion of the mythological pegasus Epona an Iomaghaoth, or at least an impression of it. And towards the front, again on each side, the word 'WHIRLWIND' was similarly stencilled.

The Royal Engineer got to his feet, his black work boots shuffling against the drop cloth covering the floor. "I had to get the Whirlwind ready for the show. But don't worry -- now that you're all here, I'll go take a shower and get dressed properly. Why don't you mount up and take it out for a few runs?"

Smiling, he wiped his greasy hand across his equally greasy brow. "It's quite a bit more top-heavy than it was before, obviously, but I originally ordered this dog-cart fitted with the suspension from a much heavier cargo wagon. That's why it always rode a bit bouncy, previously; there wasn't enough weight to keep the springs properly compressed, until now."

Honour looked around the workspace once more. She could see the pieces of the assembly, now -- the workbenches set up to cut the planks, the heavy saw to cut them to size. There were even a number of extras left over, piled up against the edge of the stall. The boxes of nails, bolts, and screws. Smaller strips of wood to serve as framing, and a vise to hold them for cutting as well. Cans of paint, paintbrushes and masking tape -- even a set of lettering stencils. There was a large can of lamp oil sitting just next to the vehicle, and glancing over the lid, it was looking empty.

Glamerspear conjured up some spear-stairs and stepped up to her gunner's perch at the back.

Honour watched as she slipped down into the open hole. Once she'd settled in, only her helmeted head protruded from above the wooden roof -- and, as if to prove it, she ducked down underneath, disappearing completely.

"Nice! Let's see somepony try to hit me from the air in this!" Then she quickly revolved around in place. "And there's even a spinning seat here now, too! Awesome! Spears for EVERYONE! Front, back, or side!"

Looking down at Honour, she pushed a forehoof up and waved it at the front seat. "Come on, Corporal, you've gotta get up in here!"

The Royal Engineer, however, had just noticed the newcomer in their group. With a puzzled look on his face, he stood with his hands on his hips. "'Gran Madre'? Sergeant? Is that you?"

The batpony-turned-pegasus bowed. "Yes, Great Lord. Today I wear a disguise magical. If you please, address me as 'Sergeant Blackspear.' You may say that I am under the command of the Lieutenant Violetta of the VIP section -- and she has been informed of this deception already."

His eyes went wide, the bright whites of them fully exposing just how filthy the rest of his face was. "That's quite a trick. I hope it holds up. 'Sergeant Blackspear,' eh? Alright -- take your place in the command seat, on the right side of the vehicle, at the front."

Extending her phony-pegasus wings, Ebonshield fluttered gracefully up and then similarly nestled herself in amongst the wooden armor, just where Anonymous himself normally sat when Honour Bound was driving.

And it was just that final seat which remained empty.

Sparkshower cleared her throat. "Do you need a lift, Corporal?"

Narrowing her eyes, Honour could just make out the small strips of wood which had been nailed to the Whirlwind's left side, obviously intended as hoof-holds.

"I think I've got this."

It was a bit of a struggle, and the carriage shifted and pitched a little as she climbed, but the earth pony managed to scramble up the small built-in 'ladder,' coming up over the sidewall and then slipping down into the driver's seat.

There was a padded cushion lying across the dog-cart's front bench that wasn't there before; a nice bulwark against the rough track ahead. As with the others, her head just barely poked up through the wooden roof. Her forehooves found the same controls beneath her -- tiller for steering, and pedals to control acceleration and braking. There were even two pairs of goggles lying on the bench, and she picked one up, strapping it to her head.

Honour passed the other pair to Ebonshield, who donned them as well -- and while at first the illusion was disrupted by this new article of clothing, after a moment, they seemed to blend into her fake Royal Guard armor, seeming a natural part of the outfit. Glamerspear had already tapped on the control button of her helmet to lower a basic clear targeting visor as well.

With his hands still on his hips, and Sparkshower sitting in awe at his side, the Royal Engineer beamed a wide smile. "The water and fuel tanks are full to the brim; I've asked some of the stable-colts to bring a few extra cans out to the racetrack as well, just in case, along with some brushes, brooms, and rags. It rained a bit last night, so the track's liable to be a bit muddy. If it gets a bit dirty in your rehearsal, they should be able to clean it up before the big show."

Stepping forward, he bent over underneath the armoring to light the engine, then popped back up beside Honour again. "The important thing is that you learn how to handle it with its new bulk, Corporal. Don't worry about taking things too fast -- this is just a demonstration of a concept. What matters is that they see Glamerspear, shooting out the back, safely protected by walls and mobile at will."

"Yes, sir."

Walking across in front of the bow, he pointed at the pegasus-Ebonshield. "Order the Corporal to halt the Whirlwind once or twice, Sergeant. Even turn it around to circle the racetrack the other way. Let's show them how nimble it is, and how quickly it can take off in any direction."

"Yes, sir!"

That affirmative sounded plenty native-Equestrian to Honour’s ears.

‘Maybe this is going to work, after all.’

It helped that nopony could see more than her head in the Whirlwind anyways.

Coming to Glamerspear, Anonymous banged his open palm against the wooden roof. "Duck under the deck if Sparkshower makes a close pass, Specialist. And don't stop shooting her for even one second. I want them to think the Whirlwind could enable you to swat down a whole army, if you needed to."

"Yes, sir! And you're damn right I could, sir!"

Finally, he came to Sparkshower, who was positively beaming -- despite the fact that she was about to be under constant fire.

"You've got the toughest job of all, Specialist. Try not to actually spear the vehicle, and please don't fire up the rocket engines on that lance of yours. But I want the crowd to feel like you're a real peril that the Whirlwind is overcoming. Shout out loud and clear when you're going to charge down low, so that your comrades know to duck, and for everyone's sake, make sure to pull up if they don't."

The armored pegasus loudly slapped a sabotted forehoof to her helmet, bringing the visor down.

"Yes, sir! You can count on me, sir!"

The Royal Engineer stepped over to one of his service carts and grabbed a clean white rag, wiping his face. "Alright, Corporal. I can see the steam coming out the back; come on over to the garage door and I'll let you out."

Sure enough, there was the tell-tale, slow 'Pffsht....Pffssht' noise hissing up from somewhere under the floorboards. With some trepidation, Honour slowly lifted her left hind hoof off of the brake pedal, and pressed the other hoof down on the accelerator. Slowly, gracefully, with a lethargy appropriate to the early-morning hour, the Whirlwind crept forward out of the stall.

She turned the tiller, and the wheels responded, the vehicle following after Anonymous, who hustled down towards the big swinging garage doors. Reaching the middle, he quickly unlatched them and pushed the left one open. Honour put on the brakes again, and Whirlwind stopped just in front of the gate. In another moment, he had the other door open as well.

Through the clear lenses of the driving goggles, Honour looked down at the Royal Engineer standing beside the vehicle, filthy and dishevelled in his work overalls, exhausted from pulling an all-nighter, and visibly apprehensive about the upcoming show. But rising above all that, there was one single thing, clearly projected in his voice and written all over his face: pride.

With a final salute to this enterprising Very Important Pony, who wasn't actually a pony, Honour released the brakes, and the Whirlwind rolled out of the garage.

Ebonshield twisted her head around in all directions, while Honour looked left and right to make sure nopony else was coming.

"Corporal, take us to the racetrack."

"Yes, Sergeant."

Coming from behind, Sparkshower blew past the three of them, wings pumping furiously, Bradamante Lance still collapsed on her back. "Yeah! Let's go!!"

With that, Honour dropped her right forehoof on the accelerator.

‘Time to see what this 'Whirlwind' can do!’

Suggested interlude music: Robert Weede & The Office for Emergency Management - 'The Caissons Go Rolling Along' [1942]
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a15JrlOkpR4

Or:

US Army Chorus - ‘The Caisson Song’ [2006]
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-4sV5uWrptk

Chapter 117

Temper Violetta

‘This is quite the show.’

For a production thrown together at nearly the last minute, it surprisingly lacked for neither amenities nor attendees. Indeed, there were a number of dignitaries of some significance in the stands. Lieutenant Temper Violetta might humbly count herself among their number; her attendance had been requested since it was a VIP quaternion under her command that would be performing for the crowd today.

Beside her sat Captain Bute, invited by virtue of being her commanding officer and the head of the VIP Section of the Canterlot Palace Military Office. From him on up, the chain of command of the CPMO and, indeed, of the Household Division itself, was present for the event. Though none of them -- not even the present divisional commander -- attracted nearly as much attention as the division's former chief officer, no doubt having returned to Canterlot for the upcoming Gala.

With his amiable smile and easy way of speaking, Major Shining Armor (retired) was regaling the soldiers and dignitaries around him, a focal point of amusement in the otherwise somewhat groggy and freshly-awakened crowd. If he could entertain elder statesponies and officers, unexpectedly scheduled to wake up at the crack of dawn for a military show, it was little wonder a colt like him was able to win the heart of Princess Cadenza.

For the rest of the audience a little too far away to titter with the handsome and charismatic Diarch of the Crystal Empire, at least there was an ample supply of coffee, tea, and all sorts of baked breakfast goods from the palace's kitchens, laid out elegantly on a table in front of the bleachers just to one side of the presenter's podium. A trio of servants even stood ready and waiting to dole out portions. Lieutenant Violetta had her mug in hoof, and so did most of the other fifty or so ponies in the audience, and she’d already finished off a buttered scone.

Taking a sip of the piping-hot, fragrant black liquid which powered the Royal Guard in the early morning, she surveyed the crowd. By far, the vast majority were officers of the Household Division, but there were soldiers from other commands as well. The First Air Division was present, represented by Major General Georgia Hoofstrong, along with what looked like her aide-de-camp and a few of her top subordinates -- including Major Amberline Growler, commander of the Third Armored Battalion 'Valkyries.'

Even if Violetta didn't know her by her face and mane, she would have recognized Growler by her dress. Who else but a Valkyrie would show up to attend a demonstration in brightly-polished, heavy bronze armor? And with a Sergeant in tow as well, sitting off to the side and holding her commander's helmet and lance, fully armored as a Valkyrie should be.

But despite their gleaming dress and ferocious reputation, both of those heavily-armored pegasi were outshone in the stands today. No less than the Grand Marshal of Equestria, General Dion Foxhall himself, was present. The old colt looked a little rough around the neck; it must have been a long trot over here from his residence in the city.

But even that venerable warrior was upstaged, being seated next to two members of the Blue Chamber, including the Secretary of Defense, to whom he reported, and the Chancellor of the Exchequer, who, with the power of the purse, was perhaps the most feared and revered member of the Blue Chamber.

Even the Chief Steward of Canterlot Palace was present, appearing impeccable as always in his morning coat. Doubtless, he was here to ensure this live-fire demonstration did no harm to Their Majesties' Royal Property, particularly not with the Grand Galloping Gala opening this very week. Even now, the Steward's veritable army of maids and cleaners were tidying every last corner of the palace, in anticipation of the scheduled arrival tomorrow of another similar group, this time decorators and interior designers, who would ensure that every palatial wing was appropriately styled. With that enormous annual task on his plate, Her Majesty must've had to drag him here by his lapels.

But if she had, neither of them showed it.

Oh yes, Her Majesty Princess Celestia was here -- and the other Diarch of Equestria, Princess Luna, too. The two rulers were sitting in the very front row, Her Solar Majesty radiating brilliance and warmth as brightly as Her charge in the sky. Her Lunar Majesty, however, seemed a bit distant and apprehensive. Not that the lieutenant would deign to pass judgement on a Royal Equestrian Alicorn -- but the difference in moods was quite apparent.

On Violetta’s right, Captain Bute spoke up, pointing at some movement. "Ah, here's the colt of the hour."

"Yes, sir."

Sure enough, the Royal Engineer of Equestria stepped out through a gap in the bleachers and approached the podium. He looked well enough in his frock coat and top hat. As he gingerly mounted the speaking-platform, the lieutenant got a look at his face as well; she was no expert at reading his species' body language, but he appeared awake and alert.

Having gotten here rather earlier than everypony else, she knew the truth of the matter.

Sipping her coffee again, Lieutenant Violetta wondered how much of Her Majesty's heavily-caffeinated royal brew the Royal Engineer was running on -- and how soon he would run out.

With a plain smile, the Royal Engineer raised his arms in an obvious gesture for quiet, and a hush fell over the crowd. Lowering his hands, he indicated the crowd and then the buffet table nearby.

"Thank you all for coming; your attendance is greatly appreciated. Please feel free to avail yourselves of the refreshment table at any time during the presentation."

Finally, he stepped forward and seized the edges of the podium. "Gentleponies, I am, of course, a recent newcomer to this world. Equestrian culture and history are entirely new to me." With a stern eye, he scanned the crowd. "But I am learning. And, in my capacity as your Royal Engineer, I have taken inspiration from your mythology in order to create something new and magnificent."

Glancing slightly behind him at the far corner of the track, where Violetta knew his quaternion was waiting, Anonymous raised an arm in signal. Then he faced the crowd once more, his hands outstretched in a striking pose.

"In Equestrian legends, Epona the Whirlwind is no ordinary pegasus. She is the guiding exemplar for her kind."

The Royal Engineer balled his fingers up into fists, extending a single finger from each to point up at the sky. "During the chaotic early time of this world's creation, when the survival of all creatures depended upon Llamrei, the Mother of Creation, yoking the winds and the weather to just the right creature, Llamrei created Epona, the first pegasus."

There was a faint and recognizable 'pffsht-pffsht' noise growing louder by the second, but the lieutenant’s view down the track to her right was blocked by Captain Bute's large, bouffant-style mane.

"Against all other candidates, it was Epona's speed and grace that proved to be the winning combination for the task..."

The carriage's motor noise was unmistakable now, and many of the spectators had turned their heads to look down the track for it. With a smile on his face, Anonymous gave a signal to a palace servant standing in front of a gramophone. The servant duly engaged the needle, and just as Anonymous finished his opening speech, music began to play.

"...and in recognition of this, Epona was dubbed the Whirlwind."

Suggested background music: Andy Clark - 'World Beater', from 'KPM 1000 Series: Synthesis 2' [1980]
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vQbZjvAxhIk

With a loud clattering of carriage wheels, accompanied by a repeating 'PFFSHT-PFFSHT,' the Royal Engineer's motorized, armored carriage roared up to the stands, then came to a halting stop just in front of the crowd. Its name, 'WHIRLWIND,' was clearly visible in stencilled lettering on the hull, as was a somewhat modern take on Epona's winged triskelion. Astonished gasps and interested mutterings filled the air as everypony leaned forward to take in this new wooden wheeled creation.

Violetta focused on the vehicle's three crew, whose heads were just visible over the wooden hull. All of them seemed to still be in order after her earlier pre-show inspection: clean helmets, correct posture, proper haircuts. And, underneath their goggles, they were all wearing the stern gazes of proper Royal Guard soldiers.

‘Good.’

Even if this was the Royal Engineer's show and they were operating under his instructions, any laxity in their bearing would, in the end, reflect upon herself, their commander on paper.

Captain Bute leaned over towards the lieutenant. "I recognize two of them from the Royal Engineer's quaternion. But who's the third? That's not the pegasus we assigned him. And didn't he have a Night Guard for his fourth?"

‘Of course the captain would pick up on that detail.’

Violetta allowed herself a small smirk. "Yes, sir. But I'm afraid I'm sworn to secrecy in that matter, sir."

Bute cocked an eyebrow, then whinnied. "All right, Lieutenant. Have your secrets for now."

She nodded solemnly.

The Royal Engineer indicated the vehicle with a wave of his right hand, and immediately it headed off down the track again.

"Today, the Whirlwind Self-Propelled Air Defense vehicle takes mobility and defense a leap forward, giving the Equestrian Royal Guard an air defense system that is second to none."

At the far left edge of the bleachers, instead of following the Royal Eastern Cottage's triangular track around the corner, the carriage instead slowed to almost a halt, then turned around to hustle back again.

"Designed and built on top of a chassis provided by Henry Fortstable and Company, this weapon system constructed of brass and wood is configured for rapid-deployment air defense. The Whirlwind SPAD carries a commander and driver in the forward compartment..." He indicated 'Sergeant Blackspear' and Corporal Bound. "...and, in a rotating elevated mount, an Air Defense Specialist as a gunner."

True to his words, Specialist Glamerspear spun around, diligently scanning the skies. As the vehicle once again came to a halt just behind and to one side of the podium, the Royal Engineer pointed at the hull, hunching over slightly.

"The real innovation, gentleponies, is how its movement is powered. The vehicle has only three crew, and all of them are relaxed and seated comfortably. There is no magic involved in the propulsion. Slung underneath the base chassis is a steam engine of cast bronze, supplied with reservoirs of lamp oil for fuel and water for operation. The engine boils water with the fuel; pistons then convert the energy from the resulting steam into powered motion. With this motor, the Whirlwind can carry these three crew, and their equipment and supplies, for almost two hundred kilometers, and it can cover that distance in under two hours. Listen to its operation as the crew drives off again."

Murmurs of excitement grew quiet once more as most of the audience craned to hear the muffled, repeating 'PFFSHT-PFFSSHT' produced by the vehicle. Once it was almost out of earshot, the Royal Engineer continued.

"With the Air Defense Specialist surrounded by the vehicle's hull, and having the mobility to quickly relocate on the battlefield, the Whirlwind significantly reduces the maneuverability advantage of an airborne enemy."

He lifted his hand up again, this time looking down the field to his right -- the opposite direction of where the Whirlwind just went.

"And to prove it to you, we have a demonstration in the form of a live-fire exercise with training rounds."

To Violetta’s left, there was the unmistakable steady creaking of a heavily-armored pegasus in flight, and Specialist Sparkshower soon rose above the center of the field. In the distance, she could see the Whirlwind hurrying down the first leg of the triangular course, heading for the back turn. After a moment spent watching the scene, the fireworks started.

CHUKA-CHUKA-CHUKA-CHUKA-

Specialist Glamerspear started sending training-round after training round up into the air towards the armored pegasus, all while Corporal Bound guided the Whirlwind around the back turn and down the second straight.

-CHUKA-CHUKA-CHUKA-CHUKA CLANG-CHUKA CLANG-CHUKA CLANG -

Having succeeded in boxing in the armored pegasus with fire, the blunt-tipped rounds started to hit their mark, careening noisily off of the pegasus' armor and lance-guard. But before the Whirlwind could reach the third corner, the target became the attacker as Specialist Sparkshower swooped down on the carriage. Glamerspear ducked beneath the hull, and there was a gasp from the crowd as the Whirlwind turned suddenly one way, then twisted around the other way, kicking up huge sprays of mud and earth as Corporal Bound deftly zig-zagged the vehicle to avoid the charge. In an instant, the unicorn's head was back out of her hatch, and she resumed firing at the retreating attacker.

-CHUKA-CHUKA-CHUKA-CHUKA CLANG-CHUKA-

Before Sparkshower could even complete the wingover for another attack run, the Whirlwind had rounded the third corner and was in the main straight. Everypony in the crowd had craned their head out and to the left to watch the spectacle as Sparkshower set up for another charge from the vehicle's starboard rear. As the carriage roared along the track behind the Royal Engineer, Sparkshower conducted the same attack run, but this time, much closer to the crowd. This time, Violetta could hear every barked order and acknowledgement between the two ponies in the forward compartment.

-PFFSHT-PFFSHT-PFFSHT-

Twisted around in her seat, 'Sergeant Blackspear' nodded her head just as Specialist Sparkshower was on her final approach.

"Evade, now!"

"Roger!"

-PFFSHT-PFFSHT-PFFSHT-

Violetta could clearly see the pegasus thrusting her lance at the wooden deck of the Whirlwind, accompanied by a pounding THWACK that makes it clear the attack was genuine, if obviously mis-aimed. And as before, Specialist Glamerspear quickly ducked and then re-emerged from the turret, resuming her withering fire against the armored target.

-PFFSHT-PFFSHT-PFFSHT-

CHUKA-CHUKA CLANG-CHUKA-CHUKA-

All eyes were fixed as the vehicle reached the end of the main straight and entered the first corner again, the actors setting up for a third repeat of the demonstration, while the Royal Engineer made hay while the attention lasted.

"I designed the Whirlwind SPAD after having a front-row seat to a one-on-one duel between one of Equestria's finest Air Superiority pegasi, and Specialist Glamerspear, who is performing this gunnery demonstration for us today. It was clear to me that firepower was never the issue; mobility, defense, and having a partner to spot for targets were."

As he spoke, there was once again the tell-tale break in Glamerspear's dummy-round Dual-Purpose Illusory/Conjured Munition, accompanied by the thwack of a bronze lance against a stout hardwood hull. Unlike the previous two examples, however, this time the resumption of DPICM fire was accompanied by the thundering roar of a rocket. Instead of slowly retreating after their last demo, Specialist Sparkshower blasted off, clinging tightly to her lance.

A few rows down in front of the lieutenant, Major Growler suddenly exploded into laughter, clapping loudly. "Capital, capital! Well done!"

Bute leaned over again. "Bloody Tartarus, what a racket that thing makes! And Abby's cheering it? Is that armored pegasus equipped with one of the Growler family heirlooms?"

Violetta nodded. "Yes, sir. It was a gift from the Major herself. After the incident with the First Air Wing at Newstirrup Bridge."

Her captain scrunched up his muzzle, even as the blast cut off and Sparkshower turned around for another swoop against the Whirlwind on the second back straight. "Newstirrup Bridge, you say? What the Cerberus does that have to do with Abby Growler?"

She cleared her throat. "As I understand it, sir, the Valkyries have for the past several years been beaten out of the MXP qualifiers, or the Grand Mêlée itself, by the First Air Wing. At Newstirrup Bridge, the Royal Engineer's quaternion knocked four of the 1-A-W's best out for the season. Major Growler sees the Valkyries winning the Mêlée as a result."

Bute scoffed into a chuckle. "Blast me, but those old Cloudsdale aristocrats like to play by the formal rules of nobility, don't they? Ah, well..." He watched along with the rest of the crowd as the attack-scene was repeated again in the distance. "...I suppose the Growlers have got plenty of trinkets to hoof out if they like, anyways. I've heard their weapons cache is the size of their brewery's whole cellar."

Violetta nodded once more. "Yes, sir."

He wasn’t wrong, but she was more interested in the repeat of the close-up demonstration now unfolding before her. This time, the novelty had worn off somewhat, and the attendees, no longer shocked, started to discuss what they saw in quiet murmurs, accompanied by cheers and claps at another success.

She saw the Royal Engineer smile as he recognized the shift in mood, then he raised his arm. In the 'Whirlwind,' Violetta observed 'Sergeant Blackspear' as she raised a hoof in acknowledgement, and Specialist Glamerspear ceased firing. Over at the gramophone, the record-needle had just reached the end of the record, and the attendant dutifully switched it off.

At the end of the straight, the carriage slowed down and then turned around completely, coming back towards the stands at the finishing line. Up in the air, Specialist Sparkshower had raised her lance and extended her wings, coming in just above the vehicle, before finally alighting upon the hull. And then a moment later, the boxy carriage came to a stop just in front of the stands. It looked quite a bit muddier than it did when the demonstration started, but certainly none the worse for wear.

The Royal Engineer turned sideways towards his quaternion and his creation and began to clap. "Let's have a round of applause for the brave members of our demonstration team today."

Placing her coffee-mug on the bench beside her, Violetta raised her own hooves to join the rest of the audience in a polite acclaim. It was, however, surprisingly enthusiastic, from as groggy a crowd as this.

On the Whirlwind, she could see Corporal Bound quickly wipe some of the mud from her goggles, while Specialist Sparkshower's chest heaved from exertion underneath all her armor.

And was that Specialist Glamerspear looking a little green at the withers? ‘Hmm...’ The lieutenant did seem to recall something in her personnel file about frequently succumbing to carriage-sickness. Violetta watched her swallow and saw her take off her goggles as well, wiping a forehoof across her brow. 'Sergeant Blackspear' kept her goggles on and her posture straight, as a proper sergeant should.

Now, with the audience's full attention, the Royal Engineer resumed his speech. "Gentleponies, what you've just witnessed is a fraction of the power of a combustion engine, a detailed explanation for which is available in my book, 'Science and Industry.' Engines like the one in this carriage can enable three ponies here to do the work of a whole platoon, and the applications extend well beyond military matters. Machines can improve transportation within and between cities, allow boats to make speed even in calm winds, pump water from mines, refrigerate perishables, even power lights, and so much more."

Raising his hands, he curbed his enthusiasm. "But only so much is possible without investment in further work. By the standards of my world, the engine fitted to this vehicle is extremely primitive, and the wooden hull is resilient only to light attacks. So much more could be accomplished by improving Equestria's metallurgical techniques, and building the foundries that can produce the kinds of advanced materials required for true technological advancement."

Smiling, he allowed himself a self-conscious laugh. "Not to mention constructing proper workshops. The Whirlwind, powerful though it is, was assembled in Her Majesty's garage, while the engine itself was put together by my own hands in my own Palace chambers. I'm afraid as regards those two locations, I've only doubled the Chief Steward's work with the mess resulting from this creation."

That got a few chuckles from the audience. Even though it meant a longer walk to the Palace itself, at this time of year, Violetta was infinitely grateful that the CPMO wasn't quartered in the main palace building, but instead at a small building closer to the barracks. Although Gala guests roamed the entire palace grounds, including the public areas of the military base, there wasn't nearly as much concern with getting the CPMO decorated and pretty for all the visitors; it just had to be clean and sorted, and that's how Lieutenant Violetta always liked it normally.

At the podium, the Royal Engineer took a step back. "Gentleponies, this concludes today's main demonstration. I invite you all to come up and inspect the Whirlwind for yourselves, and to avail yourselves further of the refreshments. I will be at your disposal for any questions."

To another polite clap, he gave a small bow, then stepped down and headed over towards his vehicle.

Captain Bute tapped his forehooves on the bench. "Well, are you planning to stay for a bit, Vi? It's a lovely morning."

She sucked in her lips as she thought of the mountain of paperwork she still had to get through before the Gala -- all the invitees meant more VIPs, which meant more bodyguards. Even if virtually all of those guards were going to be left at the gate during the Gala itself, more and more dignitaries were arriving in Canterlot by the day, for nopony with any sense would show up just before the start of the event. On Friday night and all Saturday long, the city was an absolute zoo, and anyways, such late arriving guests would miss all the fabulous pre-Gala private parties held by the various noble houses. None of those little gigs compared to the Gala itself, of course, but for the visiting socialite looking to make new connections or re-forge old bonds, they were as essential as the big weekend event itself.

Violetta sighed as she thought of how many VIP escorts she still had to match to VIPs, and that was only the ones she knew about right then. By the end of the week there would be twice as many more.

"No, sir, I'm afraid I've got enough work left for me at the office to keep me busy all day."

Bute nodded. "I know. I'm sorry, but it can't be helped. It's our job to accommodate ponies who often lack a sense of the cost of accommodation. No rest for the weary, and all that."

He sniffed at the tempting scent of fresh-baked goods, then smacked his lips. "I think I'll just grab another one of those scones, and then I'll join you and the rest of the platoon leaders back at HQ. Let's see if we can't plow through the latest round of requests and recruits by the end of the day today. It's only Monday; if we can finish what we have today, then perhaps we'll have some breathing room at the end of the week."

Violetta nodded. "Yes, sir. See you back at headquarters, sir."

As her commander got up and slowly made his way down the bleachers towards the food and drink table, she surveyed the scene before her. The Royal Engineer stood just in front of the podium, conversing with the Secretary of Defense and the Chancellor of the Exchequer, while the Grand Marshal inspected the Whirlwind along with a gaggle of other staff officers. Major General Hoofstrong and her entourage were still seated, apparently discussing what they'd just seen -- and Major Amberline Growler had resumed her cold, blue-blooded facade, after that almost undignified outburst earlier. But Violetta had seen her in a fight -- she remembered the Games two years ago, when Her Ladyship was still a Captain, and Violetta a Lieutenant Junior grade.

What a hot-blooded fighter she'd been during the Grand Mêlée.

If she once again had designs on winning the title, Violetta wondered if she'd consider leading the squad herself...

Her eyes fell on the Whirlwind, and in particular upon 'Sergeant Blackspear'. Thankfully, only a few of the attending pegasi were in the air, and most of them were curiously examining the hull itself, or the driver's controls, rather than speaking to the commander of the vehicle. With any luck, the batpony in disguise would be able to remain mute but for the 'Yes, sir' and 'No, sir' platitudes which she seemed to manage well enough without an accent.

There was a stirring in the front row, and Violetta watched as the two Princesses got to their hooves. In a flash, everypony else's movement stopped, and all conversation died to a whisper. Her Majesty Princess Luna, after briefly acknowledging the crowd’s respect, stepped off to the right, down the racetrack and away from the Whirlwind, while Her Majesty Princess Celestia approached Her Royal Engineer, who dutifully bowed his head.

"This has been a most informative demonstration. I look forward to receiving your office's considered opinion on the possible use of this equipment, General Foxhall. Would you mind terribly if I took the Royal Engineer aside for a brief discussion in private?"

Foxhall bowed and shook his head; not as if there were any question in the matter.

Princess Celestia looked up at the vehicle, and then towards the stands. "Corporal Bound, why don't you join us as well? General Hoofstrong and Major Growler, would you come by after a moment? And you as well, Lord Strings."

After receiving acknowledgements from all three, Her Majesty set off slowly down the track after Her Royal sister.

‘Now, what a curious thing is this?’

A private discussion with the Engineer and the leader of his quaternion was perfectly understandable. And inviting the Chancellor of the Exchequer to join in was hardly strange either. But to invite the First Air Division's commander and her chief lieutenant, over the head of the Grand Marshal? That was going to cause some gossip -- or it would have, she supposed, on any other week of the year.

As it stood, with the Gala preparations on everypony's mind, and the tabloids filled with pictures and rumors of 'who-was-wearing-what-even-though-you-can-see-her-whole-plot' and 'who-was-going-with-whom-oh-you-dont-say-even-though-they-were-with-somepony-else-last-year' and the like, Her Majesty Princess Celestia could easily have sat in the bleachers and hollered cheers or hurled insults at the top of Her considerable Royal Lungs, and while it would have unnerved the present crowd, nopony would remember or care about it tomorrow -- and probably not even later today. In fact, it was almost a shame that the presentation had happened this week; with the business of the Gala, it could easily find itself accidentally dropped from the Marshall's office's agenda.

Perhaps that's why Her Majesty seemed to want to take a personal hoof in the matter...

Apprehensive of the mountain of paperwork awaiting her, Violetta picked up her coffee mug, drained it to the bottom, and then brought it down to the banquet table in her mouth to drop it off before heading back to HQ.

Suggested viewing: "Bradley: Second to None" [1982]
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xqDgn-qXr0E

Chapter 118

Honour Bound

Corporal Honour Bound’s heart was racing. Days of training and preparation had all culminated in a live demonstration just five minutes long, if that. From what she could see in the faces of the crowd, the show seemed to have gone over well enough. But if so, that was only because the audience hadn't noticed the faults and errors which nearly derailed things.

Thank Celestia nopony had brought a telescope or binoculars -- or even a pair of opera glasses. Otherwise, they would certainly have spotted that moment at the end of the straightaway when the corporal almost toppled the cart over by trying to take the corner too fast. Even though she’d practiced it dozens of times before today, something about the added weight of the wooden armor and the extra stress from performing had caused her to slip up. The rebound from that mistake, when the vehicle lurched from one side to the other, was as terrifying as the initial skid, and Honour was still not sure just how she’d managed to keep the vehicle under control. Maybe it was the Royal Engineer's earlier training when they’d skidded on the gravel in front of the barracks circle; maybe the vehicle was more stable than she thought; maybe it was just a plain old Celestial miracle. Her Majesty was, after all, in attendance.

Whatever the cause of her salvation, Honour’s forehooves still felt a bit weak from gripping the tiller so tightly.

On top of her driving, there was also the moment on the far side of the track, when Sparkshower's lance dug in too deep on the wood, gashing the upper armor, sending splinters flying everywhere, and almost ripping the weapon right out of her hooves. Only the fact that Artemis had all four of them on the Bradamante Lance, instead of the usual two on any other kind of spear, allowed her to yank it back out with the force of her mighty wings. And only Glamerspear's quick duck-down for cover kept her head attached to her shoulders, too.

Their Majesties, thankfully, had not been served crumpets just to witness a decapitation.

And it was a good thing Princess Celestia didn't ask the nearly-headless unicorn to step down out of the car after their demonstration, instead of the earth pony, or else everypony would have noticed the trail of vomit running down the front of her neck. Before that morning, the Royal Engineer's carriage had provided a harsh, bouncy ride, just like any other cheap wagon on the rough roads of Baltimare or Manehattan. But now, the newly-armored carriage swayed and wobbled incessantly, turning every bump into a minute-long oscillation. No wonder Glamerspear had gotten sick; even Honour’s stomach still felt pretty heavy.

Honour glanced back at the vehicle, currently being inspected by General Foxhall and his entourage from the Royal Guard's General Staff. Their unicorn gunner had disappeared beneath her cupola, presumably to freshen things up. Provided Sergeant 'Blackspear' didn’t take too many questions, it should go all right. The corporal watched as one of the HQ officers asked the disguised batpony a question, for which Sparkshower appeared and spoke up first, with an 'I-can-answer-that-for-you-Sergeant'-look. 'Blackspear' nodded in acknowledgement, and after the pegasus provided an answer, the next question got directed straight at the subordinate.

‘Good; that's a load of worry off my back.’

Up top, Glamerspear's head reappeared at her cupola after having been gone for a worrisome minute or two. No doubt she'd used some unicorn magic to mop up her mess before one of the flying audience members -- or more enthusiastic climbers -- could pay her a visit.

As the corporal came up beside the Royal Engineer, she turned away from the vehicle and cleared her throat. She was a safe distance from the main crowd, while Their Highnesses were still quite a ways further away up the track, apparently engaged in some private conversation.

"Sir, I wanted to mention -- the Whirlwind's ride today is very-"

He nodded, cutting her off. "Bouncy. Yes, I know. I ordered the leaf springs after deciding to armor the vehicle, and they're designed to take that weight. Before today, the springs barely flexed at all, so the carriage may as well still have been bolted straight to the axles. But now that things are properly loaded, the setup needs shock absorbers to dampen the vibrations."

He sighed. "I have the parts on my workbench, back in my quarters. But I didn't have the time to assemble them, let alone fit them to the vehicle. That was something I might even have done today, if not for the sudden crunch." Shrugging, he continued on. "Maybe I was mistaken about the Princess' schedule. I hope Specialist Glamerspear will be alright."

Damn it, if he noticed that she threw up, all while giving his speech...

Then again, he probably knew what to look for -- and also at whom to look, since Glamerspear had gotten carriage-sick before.

Maybe he also knew that Honour’s hooves had been shaking on the pedals and the tiller.

And, maybe, he had been just as nervous about the demonstration as she was.

The corporal had been rough on the vehicle; maneuvering it in a stressful situation was a lot tougher than just doing leisurely loops around the track. Even Ebonshield had blurted something out next to her, when she’d almost lost control; '¡Me-airda!' or something like that. Up until that point, she'd managed to keep her mouth shut except for Equestrian monosyllabic words.

Honour looked ahead towards the two rulers of Equestria, sitting in communion upon the open field that hosted the Royal Enclosure during the prestigious Gold Cup held on the summer solstice. Here, at the end of the track's main straightaway, Equestria's elite hobnobbed and luncheoned in sumptuous comfort during a day at the races. The Gold Cup wasn't as enormous an event as the Gala, but even so, gossip and photos about the attendees filled the news for days before and afterward. Minute details about who wore what hat and what outfit, and who was seen with whom, were covered as abundantly as the actual winners of the Cup itself.

Right now, this area after the final turn was just a grassy, flat field at the edge of the bleachers.

But who knows? Honour hadn’t been with the Royal Engineer for even a month, and he was already taking his quaternion to the Gala. If her rotation lasted another two months, maybe he'd bring her to the Gold Cup, too. And then she’d need to shop for a summer dress and hat -- the scandalously-brief and equally scandalously-transparent red cocktail dress Glamerspear had somehow finagled her into choosing was absolutely inappropriate for a day among the aristocracy at the Royal Eastern Cottage Racetrack.

Honour suppressed a small chuckle. Considering how much work it'd been just to pick out that one Gala outfit, she wasn't really looking forward to another shopping spree, but at least it would be less terrifying than what she and the quat' had just managed on the racetrack.

The thought of that was strangely calming.

Feeling relaxed at last, Honour took a deep breath. Suddenly, the prospect of facing the two rulers of Equestria in person didn’t seem so bad. With a smile creeping its way onto her face, she looked up confidently at her Very Important Pony who isn't actually a pony.

The half-hollow stare in his eyes immediately wiped away her cheer.

Anonymous hesitantly licked his lips, and she saw him swallow nervously. There was sweat gathering at his brow, and it was still cool enough that morning that it couldn’t be just from wearing a top hat.

The Royal Engineer's nervous expression raised the corporal’s hackles, and she furrowed her brow in confusion. He didn't seem at all afraid to face the whole crowd -- including Their Majesties -- during the demonstration, so what was this about, now? Having himself noticed the flaws in her driving, was he worried that one or both of the Princesses had also spotted their errors? And yet, of all the ponies present, surely Their Majesties understood that this was just a prototype, and a hastily organized first unveiling?

Would Their Majesties rein him in over a few problems in execution? From what Honour understood, they'd appointed Anonymous to his position on the basis of his theories alone; it didn't make sense to kick him down over an under-cooked demo. And didn't Their Majesties have bigger things to worry about -- the Gala, for example? Yet, they had found the time to attend this event, and on very short notice, too.

Honour found herself infected by her charge's nervousness.

Maybe it was just exhaustion. He worked hard all night long, and the day before had hardly involved a normal sleep schedule, either. But when Princess Luna had dropped in on short notice almost two weeks ago, her VIP had been nothing less than a perfectly cordial host, remaining calm and collected even while the corporal, and the rest of the quaternion, were overwhelmed by the Princess of the Moon's spellbinding presence. And that had been a meeting conducted with full pomp and circumstance, with a herald and a troop of Her Majesty's Life Guards; not just four ponies -- well, three ponies and a non-pony -- chatting in an open field.

There were some members of the Household Division's Life Guards here, but they were all back over by the stands or further away at the outer perimeter of the racetrack, acting like good servants: reassuringly visible, but unobtrusive. It made for a more intimate, almost casual, atmosphere. Almost like a picnic.

The only thing Honour imagined which could possibly make this encounter more stressful than his one-on-one with Luna, besides the topic of discussion, was the presence of the elder Royal Sister. He hadn't seemed nervous around Her Majesty when the corporal was first presented and assigned to him nearly three weeks ago, though.

Honour looked deep into the Royal Engineer's eyes. There was another mystery to solve here, as well. When Princess Luna visited, she'd wondered if Her Presence would affect him the same way it affected ponies. As she had revelled in the fantastic experience, the only spot of -- disappointment? -- had been when she noticed that Anonymous seemed to be unfazed by the display. It wasn’t clear if he’d even noticed. But now, Princess Celestia was here, and while it was said that She knew how to 'switch off' Her mystical aura, some ponies who had experienced both claimed that Hers was more intense.

Was that it? Honour had been nervous at the prospect of facing Luna's aura; was he just nervous about Celestia's?

Or, maybe he'd experienced it before?

Anonymous came to a stop, and the corporal had to suddenly check herself so that she wouldn't carelessly step out in front of him. Up ahead, the two sisters were still in communion with each other. He was staring forwards at them, and yet, almost past Them. Honour noticed him fidget with his hands: adjusting his gloves, squeezing his palms, and crossing his fingers.

‘He really is apprehensive.’

Having failed to deduce the cause of his tension on her own, should she speak up? It might be better for her to be in on the cause of his anxiety; maybe she could give him some reassurance. Not that he'd ever really seemed to need it before.

Honour swallowed, before clearing her throat. "Ahem. Is something wrong, sir?"

He squinted, then shook his head slightly. "No, no..." There was a weak attempt at a smile."I think everything's gone well, don't you?"

She nodded, slowly. "Yes, sir."

Anonymous straightened up again, dropping his hands to his sides. "Right. Good."

He put on a show of seeming relaxed, but it didn’t really work. Now he was just nervously standing still, instead of jittering.

Honour turned away from him to look towards her Sovereigns. He'd always been straightforward with her when it came to her duty; maybe a change of phrasing would get him to open up?

"Sir, before we meet with Their Majesties, is there something I should know?"

That elicited a twitch of his throat muscles. The Royal Engineer opened his mouth as if to speak, but nothing came out. After a long pause, he pulled his gaze away from the Rulers of Equestria to look down at the grass in front of him.

Her VIP sighed. "Yes, I suppose so."

He took a deep breath and continued, "Months ago, when I told Her Majesty that I wanted to build something after writing the book, she had a request. She made me promise something, and..."

Suddenly, his face darkened, "And despite our success today, I'm afraid I've broken that promise."

‘That does sound serious.’

Before he could reveal the details, Honour heard Princess Celestia calling over to them both.

"Anonymous and Corporal Bound, would you join us now, please?"

The Princess of the Sun's voice was nothing but pleasant and congenial, and when Honour looked over at Her, She was standing shoulder-to-somewhat-lower-shoulder with Her sister, a welcoming smile on Her face. The earth pony could understand being nervous about a broken promise, but given the circumstances, it was hard to imagine that the Princess was about to grill her VIP.

Anonymous walked up, and Honour followed alongside him until she was standing before the two rulers of Equestria. While the corporal sat down and puffed her chest out, raising a forehoof in a sharp salute, he removed his hat and bowed to each of Them in turn, starting with Princess Celestia.

"Your Majesty, Your Majesty. Thank you for this opportunity. I hope Your Majesties both enjoyed the demonstration."

Standing beside Her sister, Luna stayed silent, Her blue mane and tail softly waving even in the calm air. The older, larger sister cut a more imposing figure, despite Her amiable look and spectacularly animated hair.

"Oh, yes. We found it very interesting. You seem to have thought of everything: interesting guests, trained performers, accompanying music -- even treats for the attendees. Very unlike your fall and winter lectures. It was much more exciting this way. I hope it's just the first of many."

The Royal Engineer shuffled his feet in the grassy turf, his hands idly gripping the brim of his hat. "Your Majesty is too kind. I certainly hope to arrange more performances of this type, now that I'm a little more comfortable in Equestria. As for the accompaniments, it's a different audience today. Convincing the wise with scientific arguments is one thing. 'Selling' a practical device is another."

She chuckled. "I suppose so, but what a marvellous device it is, and what a tremendous pace you set in building it."

He bowed again at the compliment. "Thank you, Your Majesty. Though I admit I could not yet call it fully complete."

It only took a gentle brush of Her eyelashes to acknowledge the Royal Engineer, before Princess Celestia turned Her attention to Honour. "And you, Corporal Bound? How do you feel about Our Royal Engineer's 'Whirlwind'?"

Her reply was calm and confident. "It's an excellent vehicle, Your Majesty. I'm sure the General Staff will appreciate its usefulness, given recent events over the past few years."

This was an important moment; she decided to kick in a little extra. "And it's been a privilege to participate in the development so far."

Celestia's Royal eyelashes fluttered once more, and She almost imperceptibly tilted Her head down towards the corporal. But it was Princess Luna who spoke up first.

"Do the other members of thy quaternion feel the same way, Corporal?"

She turned to face the Princess of the Moon. "Yes, Your Majesty, I would say so."

Anonymous followed up, speaking humbly. "All of my guards have been of great help in preparing the Whirlwind. Even the name itself was suggested by Specialist Sparkshower."

Celestia tilted Her head back slightly, and Honour noticed something else for the first time. Her VIP, whose head stood just taller than Sparkshower's when she was balancing on her hind hooves, had to look up to stare into the eyes of Equestria's solar potentate. The only other creature he'd had to do that with, so far, had been the minotaur blacksmith couple, the Bronzehorns. For someone she'd come to admire, it did seem to diminish him a bit.

Then again, how could he compare to the Princess of the Sun?

Suggested background music: Hans Zimmer - 'Dreaming of the Crash', from 'Interstellar' [2014]
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uwkLZg6WDek

Both Princess nodded, and there was a moment of silence where her VIP -- an appointed member of the Blue Chamber, the highest council of the land, and somepony who by definition must be in the highest trust of Equestria'a sovereigns -- struggled to meekly meet Princess Celestia's gaze.

As Honour stood there before Her, side-by-side with her VIP, a gust of wind blew up, pushing away the veil of clouds which had been hanging overhead all morning. The flat, grey sky thus revealed quickly broke up and faded into a brilliant blue, while underneath and all around her, the dew-laden grass shimmered and glistened in the light, as the spring breeze gently rustled through the blades. Bathed in the rays of Her celestial companion, the radiant Solar Princess of Equestria seemed to grow in eminence and glory.

Then She opened Her mouth, speaking simply and plainly, in nothing less than a pleasant tone.

"You have built a weapon of war, Anonymous."

It was just an observation; a statement of fact.

It was a dagger in his chest.

Honour could almost see the air in his lungs disappear when he tried to answer.

"I..."

His shoulders hunched over and his head drooped. "I have. I'm sorry."

Slowly, he lifted his hands up, as if groping for the blade embedded in his sternum. "I forgot my promise to you; only now did I remember it. I have no excuse, I simply..."

Unable to find the words to dress the wound, his arms limply fell to his sides, defeated and useless. "I just got caught up in everything."

Honour was speechless.

She looked to her Sovereigns.

Luna's mane glittered like the clear evening sky. It was as beautiful now as it was the first time the earth pony went away from the city's smothering lights and looked up to see the night's natural beauty. She felt aware of something, deep inside of her, just as she did when Luna visited her VIP in his chambers. Something pure and potent; an inner glow. Yet, as wondrous as Her magical hair was, it seemed but a pale reflection of the pastel brilliance shining beside it. A multicoloured bloom seemed to envelop Celestia, with tiny spots that flashed brightly and then winked out of sight, like shooting stars flying straight at her. For a few moments, Honour was utterly spellbound, watching and waiting for the next glorious burst.

‘There!’

Another sparkling display.

It was as gorgeous as the rest.

Then the background of Her mane and its weaving waves of pink, blue, and green caught her attention, their soft undulations drawing her back to the here and now.

Honour blinked, and glanced around. It wasn’t just the grass and the sky that glowed; even the white-painted wooden fence and bleachers of the Royal Eastern Cottage Racetrack seemed to bask in the sun, radiating light and warmth. Something tugged at the back of her mind, and almost out of instinct she tried to turn to look behind her, but that was an incomparably slow process. The visitor stands seemed to go on forever, stretching miles and miles away, requiring her to turn her neck further and further, until it seemed that she must have twisted it around completely backwards.

Then she had to squint, staring down the strip of brown earth at tiny specks on the horizon. In her mind, she knew that the carriage, and the crowd, and Sparkshower, Glamerspear, and Ebonshield, weren’t even half a kilometer away. But they were all so tiny, and the ground seemed to stretch on for so far, that Honour’s eyes told her they may as well be on the other side of the world. All she could really make out was the grey spot of the carriage, with tiny specks of color around on and top of it.

Once again, the here and the now beckoned, and the corporal had to slowly turn her neck again in another gruelling exercise, until she was at last facing forwards, beholding the radiant Princesses once more. Before them, her VIP had shrunk before the two beacons, standing small and alone in a prisoner's box made of light.

‘This is awful.’

‘He's done such wonderful things for Equestria!’

‘Even if he has broken a promise to Her Majesty.’

‘Won't he say anything in his own defense?’

It didn’t look like he would.

‘Well, should he really have to defend himself, anyways? That's what he has bodyguards for!’

"Your Majesties!"

Honour blurted out the interjection almost without thinking, and there was a sudden, heavy feeling in her gut, accompanied by a deep shudder, as the Princesses turned their attention to her. A wave of something passed over her, and while the nervous feeling didn’t go away, she found herself compelled to complete her statement.

"The Royal Engineer is telling the truth. He didn't set out to build a weapon of war."

For some reason it was a little hard to breathe; all of the air she inhaled came rushing back out as speech.

"He had a pas-de-sabots thrust upon him, and it was my decision that we stand and fight. He's only reacted to what he saw happen in the duel between Specialist Glamerspear and Lieutenant Kilfeather."

With her chest emptied, Honour almost choked for lack of breath, sputtering out more words.

"The Whirlwind was only a self-propelled carriage at first; the changes were made to benefit the Royal Guard..."

Something pushed her further, beyond the basic facts -- and despite the growing fire in her lungs. "And he just wanted to impress, so that Your Majesty would approve his proposals for greater works."

Uttering the last word unshackled the bonds on her throat, and she gasped, finally able to draw in her fill.

Princess Celestia, beautiful and terrible as the dawn, towered over her as the Sun over the Earth.

"I see..."

She smiled, and it was a warm smile, a tender smile. A mother’s smile; a smile to move one to tears.

"...Well, my little pony, I am impressed. But I'm also concerned, and with good reason."

Her Majesty's gaze passed back to the Royal Engineer. "And I understand you commissioned arms and have been training in personal combat?"

The question was for him, but Honour still felt the call to answer Her. Except, mercifully, this time it came with no shortness of breath.

"Your Majesty, it was Sergeant Ebonshield who advised him to receive combat training, after the pas-de-sabots incident where the Royal Engineer was treated as somepony who ought to be able to defend his honor. She also pushed him to purchase arms, but all of his quaternion have been willing and eager participants in this endeavor."

Princess Celestia's purple eyes passed over her, dragging a heavy pressure wave with them. But then they continued on, and She turned to regard Luna. The Princess of the Moon didn’t appear affected by the gaze, nor embarrassed to receive it, though there was a hint of exhaustion in her voice.

"We did ask him for help in dealing with the Children. He has exceeded Our expectations in this task. And we understand it has not been without its own dangers."

This time, the corporal acted before the tremendous power could grip her again. "In our ventures into the Rookery, the Royal Engineer has stayed out of fights where possible and even successfully de-escalated what might have been a bloodbath. I've never known him to provoke violence. And Sergeant Ebonshield can tell you he's made a great rapport with some of the civilians down there. He wants to use their knowledge to help Equestria."

The glittering Moon looked expectantly up at the noble Sun. "Sister, this may be the opportunity We have sought: a means to finally change from the status quo ante bellum."

Unlike Honour or the Royal Engineer, Her movements were brisk and unhindered, though Her flowing mane seemed once again to hang in place, unhindered by wind or gravity.

Celestia's attitude softened, and Honour felt herself able to move a little more freely once more.

"Things are as they are for a good reason..."

She nodded and raised a golden-shod forehoof to point at something behind the corporal, and Honour turned around. As if pulled by a marionette's string, even her VIP managed to follow Her hoof as well. It was still a slow, laborious process, but at least the object of her attention no longer seemed to be far over the horizon.

As instructed, Major General Hoofstrong was waiting some distance away, accompanied by Major Growler. Purse Strings, the Chancellor of the Exchequer and another member of the Blue Council, stood nearby as well.

Princess Celestia's voice carried a weary pain. "...It's been only two years, Luna. There are still grieving families and grudge-bearing survivors among the Royal Guard. Those among our little ponies who fought each other on that terrible night need time to accept the peace. They may not be ready for any more changes, not yet."

With a sudden snap, Honour found herself facing the shining rulers of Equestria once more.

Celestia sighed.

Somehow, the Princess seemed to diminish, and with Her, all the extraordinary brilliance of the world. Honour was back in simple, ordinary Equestria, sitting on the grass of the Royal Eastern Cottage Racetrack, on a warm morning in late spring. She was in the presence of the two Sovereigns of the realm, but Her Majesty's peaceful smile was simple and unassuming once more, no longer hitched to an overpowering Presence.

She turned to the Royal Engineer, who'd been transfixed this entire time. "Corporal Bound has made a stirring defense on your behalf, Anonymous. Would you have put it any differently?"

Some color crept back into his cheeks, and he straightened himself. "I don't think so, Your Majesty..." With palpable relief, he looked down admiringly at Honour. "... And I'm thankful for her coming to my aid."

The corporal was still a bit too overwhelmed by the recent experience to be gratified by the compliment. And a crucial unanswered question from before still burned in her mind, even as Princess Celestia continued.

"So be it. You may have broken the word of your promise, yet it seems you didn't violate its spirit. But as for your request..." She shook her head. "...Even though the Children guard the palace after dusk, we've kept them strictly separated from any who faced them on that Nightmare Night, for the sake of preventing any more bloodshed. Now you want to bring more of them to the surface?"

Anonymous raised his hands in supplication. "These are civilians, Your Majesty, not warriors. They're tradesponies -- smelters and blacksmiths."

Clasping them together, he lowered his arms. "Sergeant Ebonshield has accompanied me to Canterlot City several times. Ordinary Equestrian ponies don't seem to pay her any more mind than they do me. I can't imagine they will mind seeing a few extra souls walking about among them. And I've had similar experiences amongst the non-military ponies in the Rookery."

Celestia nodded. "Perhaps." Then She tilted Her head and looked down at Her sister. "But, Luna, would you allow even tradesponies up from the Rookery without guards? How much do you trust the Children?"

That pointed question made Princes Luna's eyes flare open. Then, She glanced down and sighed glumly, pawing at the ground with a forehoof. "Given the current situation... We suppose not. There is still much work to do; they still need supervision."

Princess Celestia nodded knowingly. "Yes, I think so too, and the R.U.C. is overtaxed already." Then a thin, sly smile broke out across Her face. "Perhaps there's an alternative. I have an idea we can discuss afterwards, just the two of us."

Suddenly raising Her voice, She beckoned out to the group of waiting ponies. "Chancellor Strings, would you join us for a moment, please?"

In a few moments, Honour was joined by the bespectacled chief of Equestria's finances.

"Your Majesties."

Celestia appeared magnanimous. "Chancellor, have you finished your calculations for the Royal Engineer's most recent proposal?"

The elder unicorn raised an eyebrow, then telekinetically opened a flap on his saddle bag and began to extract a heavy book. "The foundry, Your Majesty? Yes, I have the numbers right here, if you'll permit me a moment--"

But the elegant white alicorn just shook Her head. "Thank you, Chancellor, but I don't need the details right now. I just want to hear your evaluation. Do you think it's reasonable?"

Clearing his throat, he lowered the book back down and shut the flap. "Reasonable, Your Majesty? That's a very subjective term. The project is quite costly, though I have some proposals for savings. Reusing an existing building instead of constructing a new one, for example -- there's a number of empty edifices in the lower tiers of the city which might serve. But there are still considerable expenses, both mundane and magical, as well as an indeterminate timeline before results can be achieved."

Honour’s VIP interjected. "I am confident that with the help of those certain individuals we have just discussed, the timeline can be considerably shortened. I've held extensive discussions with them, and I believe that they are very, very close to what I seek."

She really should have paid more attention down in the Rookery when he met with the batpony metallurgists. Maybe then she'd be able to confirm his enthusiasm about this.

Purse Strings adjusted his glasses. "Hrm, yes, well. It does seem as though the operational costs should not be too excessive; it is the initial outlay which is most worrisome. But as for 'reasonable,' Your Majesty..." He nodded his head, lifting his lower lip. "...This demonstration today has reinforced my confidence in Your Majesties' Royal Engineer. I should like to be able to approve this endeavor."

At that, Princess Celestia turned to Princess Luna, and they exchanged nods. "Very well, Chancellor Strings. Please make the necessary arrangements, and thank you for sparing the time to come out this morning."

He bowed and retired, while the Princess continued on to address the Royal Engineer. "You'll need an assistant to get things running, I think. There's more than just science and engineering involved in what you propose. I happen to have somepony in mind already, and I'll send them to you shortly. But I'm not finished with your 'Iomaghaoth' quite yet."

She grinned, chuckling lightly at the mythological reference of the 'Whirlwind.' "I may not quite approve of you having crafted a tool for warfare, or of taking up arms yourself, but since you have, I expect you to finish what you've started."

Then She called out to the second group of waiting ponies. "General Hoofstrong, thank you for waiting; will you come over with your entourage now?"

The clattering of armor signaled the arrival of not just the bronze-plated Major Growler, commander of the Valkyries, but also her immediate superior, the commander of the First 'Canterlot' Air Division.

Honour wondered what the general thought of the exercise; she was the one who enabled it to happen this quickly, after all.

It seemed Princess Celestia had the same idea.

"Well, General, what did you think of this morning's demonstration?"

While the Valkyrie commandant was in full regalia, with only her muzzle and tail visible beneath a panoply of pressed linen and polished bronze, the pegasus General wore her ordinary blue service uniform.

"I found it very interesting, Your Majesty. I believe I understand the possibilities which the Royal Engineer proposes for it, but I'm not really in any position to attest to their plausibility."

Strangely, she seemed a bit reticent to give her opinion. This wasn’t the same Hoofstrong Honour met two days ago; the same one who authorized Lieutenant Kilfeather's pas-de-sabots.

She shook her head slightly, narrowing her eyes. "But surely Your Majesty is expecting a more comprehensive report from General Foxhall and his staff?"

‘Ah, so that's it.’ Though apparently happy to ruffle the feathers of the nobility in the name of upsetting the old order, the good Major General still respected the military chain of command.

Princess Celestia lifted an eyebrow. "Yes, and I don't doubt that document will be thorough and insightful. But I recall inviting General Foxhall and all of his headquarters staff to this event." Smirking, She looked over at the Royal Engineer. "And you aren't among them, General. Which means that you must be here at the request of my serene Blue Chamber advisor, instead. I wonder if you had a hoof in the creation of this 'Self-Propelled Air Defense' system?"

Even Luna raised an eyebrow at that interesting accusation.

But the General wasn’t flustered.

"Your Majesty, as your faithful commander of the defense of this city's airspace, I had to approve the live-fire training exercises that Your Royal Engineer and his quaternion needed to conduct, prior to this demonstration. I asked to be here."

Celestia tilted Her head back. "Ah. So you are merely an 'interested pony,' then? What would it take to convince you of the merits of this Whirlwind?"

The General furrowed her brow, but before she could say anything, Major Growler bellowed out, waving a forehoof dismissively. "I know what it would take to convince me, Your Majesty! A true trial by combat, not some choreographed ballet!"

The Major then turned and nodded briefly towards her superior officer. "Apologies, General."

Hoofstrong's curt acknowledgement indicated this was hardly the first time she’d been preempted by her subordinate. "Of course, Growler."

She took a step towards the Princesses as if to cement her position of leadership. "Your Majesty, I share the Major's opinion. A real field test is in order."

The Valkyrie Commander still couldn’t resist piping up. "Pity it's too late to enter them in the Grand Tournament, what with the group qualifiers already underway. The Whirlwind in the Grand Mêlée against my Valkyries -- Well, I dare say it wouldn't be much of a fight, but we would certainly put on a good show for Your Majesties as we tore the thing to pieces!"

Naturally, a traditionalist like Major Growler used the old name for the MXP Games.

This time it was Princess Celestia who interjected. "General, isn't there always a guaranteed spot in this year's games for the previous year's champions?"

Hoofstrong nodded. "Yes, Your Majesty, though that team is unfortunately indisposed."

'Indisposed' was putting it mildly. The First Air Wing's commander and executive officer were both completely denuded of feathers, one by Glamerspear's overkill, manaburn-inducing volley, the other by Sparkshower's tactical lightning strike. Growler had chuckled at the thought of not having to face Kilfeather and his squadron this time around, no doubt already picturing her family's noble crest on the victory banners atop the Champions' Hall.

‘Wait a minute--’

Before she could carry the thought, Celestia continued. "Perhaps a substitution is in order, General? A substitution by, say, the group which beat those champions?"

Major Growler's muzzle audibly slapped into her chin-guard as her mouth dropped open, speechless. Even the General emitted a semi-defeated chortle, now that she saw where this was going.

"Certainly, Your Majesty. I think that would be most appropriate. I will make the arrangements."

The Princess of the Sun appeared pleased at the successful achievement of what was undoubtedly a foregone conclusion. "Excellent. Thank you, General."

Hoofstrong bowed and turned to go, while Major Growler hung around, maw still hanging agape. It took a moment for her to collect herself, and she barely managed to guffaw out a pair of 'Your Majesty' curtsies before retiring.

Honour couldn’t help but shake her head.

‘Princess Celestia planned this all along, didn't She?’

‘She was going to say 'yes' to the plan all along.’

‘And She wanted the Whirlwind in the Games.’

‘Did She know as well that I would leap to my VIP's defense?’

Even if the full speech had been almost squeezed out of her, and even if she felt compelled to answer the later questions, the decision to speak up in the first place had been entirely her own; she was certain of it. As Honour looked up and beheld the Sovereign of the Sun's pleasant yet supremely confident smile, there could be no doubt. The sly sideways glance She was receiving from Her sister all but confirmed it.

With palpable relief, the Royal Engineer exhaled. "Your Majesty has set before me a pair of ambitious tasks. I shall endeavor not to disappoint you a second time."

He bowed deeply, and the corporal followed his lead. "I can only thank Your Majesties for this opportunity, and for the loan of your precious time, particularly in this very busy week."

The Sun Princess laughed in response. "Hah! Busy week?! Who said anything about being busy this week?"

Luna nickered with amusement. "Busy, indeed! We should thank thee instead for relieving Us of boredom."

Honour exchanged confused glances with her VIP, and he furrowed his brow, while the corporal asked the question on their minds. "Aren't Your Majesties occupied with preparations for the Grand Galloping Gala this weekend?"

The two Princesses exchange exasperated glances.

"Oh, that!"

While Luna sighed, Celestia leaned her neck forward and lowered her voice. "I'll let you both in on a little secret. Canterlot's noble unicorns run the Gala -- it's their party, for the founding of this city, and it always has been. And each year, they've got every little detail already worked out: they just need one, or preferably both of us to sit there and nod approvingly as they laboriously show off each tiny thing they've got planned: the music, the invitee list, the decor, the performances, the food..."

Luna groaned. "Do not remind Us, sister! Our belly still aches from last year's 'preview tastings.' How many different cupcakes can one party need, and why is it so important that We taste-test each and every one?!"

Smiling, Celestia sat normally again. "This year I've found somepony to sit in our place. Somepony who can give the court nobles all the attention to detail that they crave. She helped out last year, as well. For the second time since it began, I'm actually looking forward to the Gala."

At this, Luna smiled as well. "As are We! It is so much easier to enjoy the event when one has not been forced to become bored of it in advance."

Celestia playfully wriggled her shoulders, pawed the ground with her forehooves, and lightly flapped her wings. "Now, shall we return to everypony else? I'd like to take a close look at the 'Whirlwind'. And I think I still spy a few treats left on the buffet table; it would be a terrible shame if they were to be cleared and go to waste."

Bowing, Honour allowed the two Sovereigns of Equestria to pass by and lead the way back.

She couldn't put into words how she felt right now. But if Honour was confused, one glance up at her VIP told her he was more than flabbergasted by what had just happened.

‘Well, welcome to Equestria, Anonymous! Sometimes it can be quite a ride.’

Chapter 119

Artemis Sparkshower

‘What a great day it's been!’

Underneath Specialist Artemis Sparkshower’s bronze plate armor, she was caked with a layer of dried sweat -- but that was just the natural side-effect of exertion. It was hardly the first time that had happened, and anyways, what was a little perspiration next to the grand demonstration they had put on for Their Majesties -- and the Grand Marshal (with his entourage!), and the Right Honorable Members of Their Majesties' Blue Chamber, and all sorts of other noble officers of the Guard and the Court! And not a single word of criticism from that crowd, either! Just praise and curiosity and excitement and agreement that the Whirlwind Self-Propelled Air Defense vehicle was a magnificent invention worthy of further study. More than that, too -- worthy of a real challenge, in the form of entering the military's 'MXP' Games.

Now that was a hurricane all its own.

Artemis had always been interested in attending the games as a spectator. That wasn't an easy prospect, even for somepony posted in Canterlot. Like the Gala, the Games were an event for the nobility, except this time, instead of the unicorns, it was the pegasi who ran the show. And also unlike the Gala, the whole Canterlot Palace wasn't available for participants; just the modest spectator stands at the Royal Artillery Barracks' proving field just outside the city proper, at the foot of Canterlot Mountain. Priority for tickets was given to staff officers, noble and wealthy benefactors of the Royal Guard, and participants' comrades, commanders, and family, with half of the rest allocated to serving or retired guardsponies by lottery and the other half allocated to the general public using a similar scheme. The odds of getting a ticket through either lottery weren't outrageous, but they weren't great. More than half of would-be purchasers went away empty-hoofed.

To be invited to participate as a contender, though -- what a thrill!

If she had taken a posting with one of the actual Canterlot divisions, like the First Air, then even as a non-competitor there was more than a fair chance of getting tickets. That was the basic plan; this VIP work was just supposed to be temporary until her Huckleber-- ‘No, no, no, no!’

‘Don't go thinking about the disaster that is your personal life right now! Relax and focus on what's going on around you, Artemis.’

Perched atop the wooden hull of the wonderful creation of her Very Important Pony -- who wasn't actually a pony -- she took in a deep breath and reflected with pride on the morning's accomplishments. Why, hadn’t the aide-de-camp of the Grand Marshal himself asked her, a mere pegasus specialist, what she’d thought of the Whirlwind's anti-aircraft potential? And hadn't he and all his general staff nickered with interest amongst themselves when she’d answered that she thought it would revolutionize not just anti-aircraft combat, but the ability of unicorns and earth ponies to join fast-moving pegasi in the charge? If the Royal Engineer hadn't made that clear to her, then seeing it in action certainly did. Their Majesties must certainly have been impressed to have convinced the Major General to let their group take up Kilfeather's banner in the Tournament.

Still, in spite of her elation, there was a sobering observation to take in.

Artemis looked ahead to Glamerspear's little open-topped fighting compartment. The wooden planks of the upper hull still bore the three-hoof-long gouge of the Bradamante Lance, when her control slipped for just a moment and the tip dug in. The scar deepened on its way towards her comrade's position, before withdrawing perilously close to the opening. A split-second longer and that scratch would have continued along her helmet -- or worse, if she hadn't ducked.

‘I’d better offer Lily my apologies.’

She’d surely understand, and probably shrug it off, but it was still the polite and friendly thing to do.

As Corporal Bound headed up the final, tree-lined lane towards the Royal Palace's garage, Artemis took a step forward, balancing the collapsed butt of the Bradamante Lance on the deck and spreading her wings to keep her balance against the vehicle's somewhat unsteady wobbling.

"I'm sorry about that near miss, Glamerspear. I'll keep a closer hoof on the lance from now on."

Lily casually spun her seat around to face the pegasus. "Ah, it's okay, Sparks. No harm done. You did have to deal with me shooting at you the whole time, after all. And I know how heavy that thing is." She grinned. "Guess that shows maybe we need some more armoring here up on deck, though, heh. I mean, I'm better off mounted than on the ground by myself, but I'm still a bit exposed."

The Royal Engineer, sitting up front on the hull with his feet resting on the dash between the Whirlwind's driver, Corporal Bound, and its crew chief, 'Sergeant Blackspear,' looked back at Lily over his shoulder. "I know. I intended to build up a proper cupola around your mounting point, Specialist Glamerspear. I just ran out time. It's not the only thing missing, either."

He sounded a bit down.

Hadn't everything gone well? It was true that there hadn't been time for a proper debriefing yet, not after Anonymous and Honour met Their Majesties over at the finish line. All Artemis really knew was that the Whirlwind had been entered into the MXP Games -- and her quaternion along with it. That had certainly raised eyebrows among the gathered crowd, but it had seemed more like excitement over the prospect of seeing the invention in real combat.

"It's all right, sir. General Foxhall was very impressed with what we have so far. Weren't Their Majesties pleased, too?"

Anonymous smirked. "Sure. They were so pleased they've doubled my workload."

Sergeant Ebonshield, still wearing her 'Sergeant Blackspear' magical pegasus disguise, spoke up from beside him. "I am certain that the Great Mother would not have given the Great Lord a task impossible."

The Royal Engineer chuckled weakly. "Impossible, no. But this demonstrator vehicle might as well be armored with paper and built out of twigs, for all the good it'll be in a real, drawn-out fight." He raised his eyebrows inquisitively. "I mean, I don't know much about these 'MXP Games,' but I have to assume this 'Grand Mêlée' isn't some quarter-of-an-hour affair, right?"

Glamerspear rolled her eyes in Artemis’ direction, gritting her teeth in an awkward smile.

Artemis cleared her thought, and tried to let the truth out gently. "Sir, the Grand Mêlée starts just after breakfast, and goes on until there's only one 'flight' -- one team -- left standing."

That term was a carryover from ancient pegasi armies, still used today in airborne divisions.

"There are interval pauses every hour, and fallen combatants can get back into the fight, if they're able."

Glamerspear joined in. "Yeah, and you can even repair or replace equipment during a break."

Artemis nodded. "It used to be that flights could even have one or two extra soldiers waiting on the bench as replacements. But they got rid of that rule a while ago. Nonetheless, with everything else..." She shrugged awkwardly. "... It usually goes on until almost dusk. And sometimes even into the night."

The Royal Engineer shook his head. "An all-day Battle Royale, in a little one-cylinder steam car, with armor made out of two-by-fours so hastily nailed to their posts that half of the planks are already rattling loose." Spreading his hands on the hull behind him, he leaned back and grabbed one of the aforementioned wobbly boards. It was worryingly free-moving.

‘This is all that stood between the rocket punch of the Bradamante Lance and my comrades?’

‘That, and my hoofwork?’

Maybe she’d cut things closer than anypony thought.

Finding another board to jostle around, the Royal Engineer continued. "With no surface hardening. And no fireproofing. And no shock absorbers. And narrow wheels. And that one bronze piston running loose enough in its bearings that I can already hear it scraping away at its cylinder housing."

Artemis cocked her ears. ‘Huh,’ there was a slight grinding noise coming from underneath the carriage. Had that always been there, or did it just get worse recently? Was there a ticking noise, too?

Her VIP continued, almost muttering under his breath. "Probably from all this rough riding we've been doing. The valve timing's run off as well. Whole thing needs an overhaul. And a paint job by a proper artist instead of my amateur freehand."

As Honour delicately guided the Whirlwind up the ramp into the garage, Anonymous removed his top hat and placed it in his lap. "I have to fix up all that for the Games, while at the same time trying to set up a steel foundry with batponies that Her Majesty doesn't trust and who aren't supposed to be seen by Canterlot's Royal Guards. With a secret assistant who'll be visiting me soon."

He turned back to face Sparkshower and Glamerspear once more. "When is this Grand Tournament, anyways?"

Artemis was about to speak up, when Honour put the brakes on and the Whirlwind lurched to a stop in its stall. Then she looked up at their VIP.

"The weekend after May Day."

The corporal glanced back at Specialist Sparkshower. "Or 'Beltane' if you want to use the traditional pegasus name."

Artemis nodded. "That's right. The Games used to be held on Beltane proper when it was just a pegasus affair. Now it's the weekend after for scheduling purposes. Beltane is the ancient spring festival, held on the first day of May."

Anonymous arched his eyebrows and ran his fingers through his hair. "I thought the Grand Galloping Gala was the Equestrian spring festival."

Lily swept her forehooves across the deck in front of her station. "It is in Canterlot. Or if you want to do as the fashionable Canterlot nobles do. But the Tournament is all about the pegasi. All-pegasi flights almost always sweep the open-to-all-races events, too -- including the Grand Mêlée."

With surprising agility, the Royal Engineer pivoted to dangle his legs off the side of the carriage, then hopped down to the ground, crouching low and reaching under the armored body to close the fuel valve on the Whirlwind's boiler. The hissing noise that always accompanied the carriage started to peter off. Artemis’ VIP stood up again, throwing his arms up on the armored carriage's top deck and rested his head between them, his tired eyes looking at each of his four guardsmares in turn.

"Today's Monday. The Gala's this coming Saturday. There's two and a half weeks left in April, including this one. Are you saying we've got three weeks until the MXP Games?"

Artemis nodded, and so did Honour and Lily. Eb seemed just as surprised -- and just as worn out -- as the Royal Engineer.

Anonymous sighed. "...Okay, then. Well..." Taking in a deep breath through his nose, he straightened himself up and stepped away from the carriage, then glanced up at the clock hanging over the main doors.

"It's just after eleven o'clock. I've been awake for..." With a sloppy, exaggerated motion, he lifted his hand up to consult a nonexistent wristwatch. "...Twenty-four hours straight. Not counting the little thirty-minute cat-nap waiting for the paint to dry and you to join me this morning."

He took another breath, his shoulders drooping. "I've been working a sweat up all night long, surviving entirely on coffee. And I didn't do much more than splash water and soap on my face before dressing up for the show." Anonymous picked anxiously at his cravat, unravelling it and flinging it over his shoulder before attacking the top buttons of his shirt. "I can almost feel the grease and sweat seeping into my linen shirt and wool suit every second that I continue to wear them."

With his neck liberated, he pulled the hoofkerchief out of his breast pocket and wiped eagerly around his throat. Then he pointed a finger at Corporal Bound. "So, Corporal, I know you've told me that I'm not supposed to be able to dismiss my guards as a matter of protocol. Well, I intend to go back to my room, and draw a hot bath to soak in until I'm certain that every ounce of grime has been liberated from my body. And then lunch will be brought in, and I'll devour it before collapsing into my bed, where I intend to sleep until it's supper time. I'll wake up to eat it, and then go right back to sleep."

The Royal Engineer swirled his pointing finger up in the air. "And I'll post a sign on the door saying I'm receiving absolutely no visitors until tomorrow." That same finger came sweeping down and across to indicate the whole quaternion. "So, unless one of you wants to join me in my bath or in my bed, I strongly suggest you all find something more productive to do than standing in front of my doors, listening to me snore until Tuesday morning."

‘Uh…’

Artemis exchanged glances with Honour, Lily, and Purity.

‘He wasn't being serious about that second-last bit, was he?’

It was hard to tell. Her VIP was behaving uncharacteristically erratically, though not without cause. After combat training, he was enthusiastic and energetic. But that was just a few hours of physical activity. Staying up all night had left him exhausted, and it seemed to have made him a little emotional. Honour looked concerned, Lily appeared shocked, and Purity seemed sympathetic. But before anypony else could say something, the Royal Engineer put one hand up to his eyes, rubbing his brow.

"Sorry about the 'joining' bit. That was a joke. A bad one. But I'm serious about everything else. I'm beat."

Corporal Bound reluctantly nodded. "All right, sir. We'll walk you to your room, and then take the rest of the day off. I'm sure everypony will understand." She stood up in her seat and neatly dismounted in a single leap.

That was the cue for everypony else to do the same. Artemis fluttered down on her wings while pegasus-Ebonshield coasted to the ground in a distinctly un-pegasus-like fashion. Lily picked herself up out of her hole then conjured a spear-staircase off the back and down the rear of the vehicle.

In short order they were all lined up and ready to go, but the Royal Engineer just stood there, looking over his creation. Hearing him denigrate it had lowered it in Artemis’ eyes, though it was still a marvel. She was sure she couldn’t see its faults as clearly as he could, though.

"I should really wait here for the next half-hour or so, just to make sure the boiler cools down properly. All that wood and oil-based paint -- and I lubricated the engine, too. Lot of flammables. I wouldn't want a fire to start while I'm off soaking in the tub."

Honour shook her head dismissively. "Let us take care of that, sir. We slept last night: you didn't. And we are your guards after all; it makes sense for us to guard something for you." She turned to the three ponies under her. "I'll escort him to his quarters and then join you back here?"

It wasn’t exactly a military order, and Lily treated it as such, saying only, "OK."

Artemis, however, couldn't quite get into that casual mentality and replied, "Yes, Corporal."

Ebonshield just nodded silently. The pegasus felt a bit guilty about having hoofed Purity out onto the sofa yesterday when she’d appropriated her room to develop her risqée photos. 'Appropriating' the magical disguise-armor she was wearing no doubt had her feeling pretty tired, too.

Surprisingly, the Royal Engineer hadn't left yet; he was still staring at his carriage.

Honour tried to get his attention. "Sir? Shall we go?"

With a blank stare, he furrowed his brow. "There's one more thing I should do first. Something I really should have done in the morning, before the show."

‘For a sleepless colt he sure is trying to attend to every detail.’

Artemis wanted to speak up and tell him it could wait until after he'd rested, but Honour beat her to it. "Whatever it is, it can wait until tomorrow, sir."

Anonymous shook his head, then pulled his white gloves off one at a time, tossing them into his top hat. "No. It's important. Would you go stand with your quaternion for a moment, Corporal?"

She furrowed her brow, but nonetheless did as he asked, rejoining the line. Glamerspear cast lifted eyebrows left and right, but nopony seemed to have any idea what was coming next.

The Royal Engineer took a deep breath and pulled himself up straight.

‘Gosh, he looks serious.’

"Corporal Bound, Sergeant Ebonshield, Specialist Glamerspear, and Specialist Sparkshower. Gentlemares..." He bowed. "...Thank you. Thank you for everything you've done for me, and with me, for the last three weeks. I can't imagine having succeeded here, in Equestria, without you."

As he stood up, Artemis saw a gentle smile on his face. "You've shared with me your customs, helped me with my alien habits, and lifted me over cultural pitfalls. You've inspired my work and you've helped me carry it out."

He sighed, shrugging and shaking his head. "When Princess Celestia first assigned you to me, I really didn't know what I was supposed to do with you. Now I don't know what I'd do without you. I can't imagine having better help. This morning's success out at the racetrack is as much your success as it is mine."

Anonymous gestured at each of them in turn. "Sparkshower, you've helped me in the garage for hours building the Whirlwind, in addition to providing the name, and I can't imagine anyone could have played the role of the target better than you have. You're a firmament of fortitude and a mountain of good manners."

‘Gosh...’

A compliment like that from somepony like her VIP made her all tingly inside. She felt her tuft get floofy on its own.

"Glamerspear, I don't know what it takes to be a Centurion of the Order of the Ram, but in situation after situation you've demonstrated amazing magical powers and great skill, including this morning. You've shown me a fierce fighting spirit that I never knew existed in this land."

Lily was looking a bit puffed in the chest as well, Artemis noticed.

‘Is her horn glowing a bit, too?’

"Ebonshield, for a fellow alien in Equestria, you've always managed to stay on top of things. You've shown me, and everyone else in your quaternion, a world we never would have seen otherwise. And I know I have a lot still to learn, but what you've taught me about fighting so far has, well..." He furrowed his brow, trying to find the words. "...It's rooted me a little, I think, in a way I'm not sure I can explain right now. Maybe it's the physicality of it. But I know it's made me feel more like this is my home, and that's started to change the way I work."

Purity blinked her eyes, and the pegasus saw they glistened with moisture.

‘Sunshowers!’

The sergeant was so emotionally grounded, normally. She must be as tired as he was if she was getting teary-eyed, too.

"...Corporal Bound. I'm not sure where to begin." He licked his lips -- and that was definitely a spot of red on their quaternion leader's brown-furred cheeks.

"Well, I can start by saying that if motorized carriages become popular here, you have a guaranteed career outside the Royal Guard as a champion race driver."

That got a sensible chuckle out of everypony present, and he continued. "You've dealt with every problem we've faced, and I know I've been the cause of a lot of them, too. You haven't been afraid to speak truth to power, and you've been willing and able to learn all the strange new things I've come up with." He held his arms wide, magnanimously. "You're a solid, reliable anchor on a boat thrown about in stormy seas. And, as you're their leader, I'm sure the rest of the quaternion feels the same way."

Honour glanced down the line to find them all nodding enthusiastically.

"¡Absolutamente!"
"Damn straight!"
"Without a doubt!"

The Corporal tried to suppress her growing blush. She was about as successful as Artemis was at controlling her tuft.

Anonymous lowered his arms again. "Anyways, that's what I needed to get off my chest. It wouldn't have been the same if I'd thanked you tomorrow. I probably still will, but I needed to do it now, too." With a wry grin, he gestured one hand near his cheek. "And if I hadn't, I'd probably be tossing and turning the whole time in bed, anxious about how to phrase things perfectly. This was a bit stream-of-consciousness-y, I know. I promise I'll put some planning and effort into the next one."

Honour cleared her throat, still rosy-cheeked. "This was good enough, sir. And you're welcome."

The Royal Engineer nonchalantly dusted his free hand on his trousers. "Okay. Well, I know I'm ready for washing up, eating, and going to bed, and if that's in anyone else's plans I won't hold it against them." Turning to go, he waved his upside-down top-hat around a bit. "Just give the boiler fifteen minutes. It'll be fine, I shouldn't have worried. Make sure you don't smell or see any smoke, that's all."

As he left with Corporal Bound, the other three answered in unison.

"Yes, sir."
"Yes, sir."
"Yes, sir."

As the pedestrian door to the Canterlot Palace Royal Carriage-House closed behind them, Artemis let out a sigh. It was a mixture of relief from the successful public performance earlier, and revelling in the fresh delivery of some very kind compliments.

The silence was almost immediately broken by Lily poking a forehoof into Ebonshield's flank. "I'm surprised you didn't think to take him up on the offer to join him in bed, 'Sergeant Congeniality.’"

Eb swallowed and pulled her neck back coyly. "Who says I did not? Perhaps if he had not so quickly dismissed this as a joke, I may have accepted."

Artemis furrowed her brow and poked the unicorn in turn. "Don't forget, Lily, you're the one who got all glowy for him when he was sparring with Eb!"

Glamerspear swiveled her grinning face in the pegasus’ direction. "Yeah. And I haven't forgotten the size of your bucking wingspan during that demo, either!"

Artemis expected that comeback and took the obvious high road, placing a hoof on her chest and putting on a playful air of aloof honesty. "That's different. I'm a pegasus; it's a natural reaction to a spirited combat, that's all."

Glamerspear cringed with laughter. "Pfft! Okay there Miss Mega-Pega. And how about your 'tack-play' talk, or asking him to dance the Maypole with you -- oh, and let's not forget when he took you to the opera as his guest."

‘That's not fair!’

That last one took her by surprise -- and was Lily forgetting the blow-up afterwards between she and her?

Suddenly Artemis was wearing a bit of a scowl, and Lily leaned in affectionately. "...Ah, our first argument, Sparks. I haven't forgotten. Good times."

It seemed she was better at playing games like this than Artemis was. More experienced, at any rate.

Patting Sparkshower on the back, Lily sat up straight again. "Anyways, who's saying I didn't think about piping up, either? Only I'm worried somepony else might get jealous."

Artemis snorted. "Probably your Captain Mailedhoof!"

Lily just grinned. "Sure, Mailedhoof'll see me together with the Royal Engineer, and it'll make him so mad he'll buy me another Louis Valise dress. Ha! When you're a saltine, jealousy isn't a setback, it's an advantage."

Glamerspear chuckled again. "Heh, no, I meant somepony would get jealous of me. I know what Honour said after the last trip under the mountain how he has no idea about ponies, but he's gotta be getting some interest by now. I mean, buck, there were plenty of uniformed mares in the stands this morning. A lot of 'em are gonna be at the Gala next weekend. And I bet a bunch of 'em are single, too." She shook her head, then nodded towards Sergeant Ebonshield. "You know what happens at the Gala, don't you, Sergeant? All those nobles, with bellies full of food and heads full of liquor by the end of the night, and all these empty rooms in the Palace, unguarded and with beds or sofas or just plain old nice thick carpets?"

The batpony-pegasus raised her eyebrows. "I have the picture most clear now, yes."

Lily whinnied with amusement. "Tartarus, maybe one of us should go in there after this. Give him a little lesson so that when he meets Lady Lieutenant Colonel So-and-so of the Hearts and Minds Brigade at the Gala and they wind up knocking horseshoes in the conservatory, he's got a clue how to operate. Like how you propositioned him day one on the job. Or how your mom did, too, now that I think about it!"

Eb inhaled, smirking. "This is a consideration. However, I have found often that colts in his state of exhaustion are seldom able to perform. The Great Lord has made considerable exertions without rest already; he may fall asleep halfway through the lesson, and then not even remember the instructions for later."

Artemis shrugged. "That just means you get to teach him again."

Both Ebonshield and Glamerspear cocked their eyebrows and look over at her curiously.

"...What?"

Lily just shook her head. "Celestia, Sparks. You're all ready and waiting with bit and bridle, aren't you?"

Artemis was only joking, but how could she 'win' the argument about that? How could she out-joke a prankster?

Maybe it was better not to even try.

Placing a sincere forehoof on her peytral-plate, Artemis repeated her hackneyed line from earlier. "That's different. I'm a pegasus; it's a natural reaction to-pfffft! Hahaha!"

She’d only gotten five words in and already Lily and Purity were laughing riotously; it was so infectious Artemis couldn't even finish her sentence before exploding into giggles herself. Glamerspear was doubled over in tears, and even Ebonshield had both forehooves up to her muzzle trying to choke down an unending tittering. It all flowed so quickly Artemis didn't even notice the sound of the door opening.

Artemis’ unicorn comrade repeatedly stomped her forehoof on the floor. "Buck me, Sparks!"

Instantly a loud mare's voice boomed out in reply. "'BUCK ME'?! That's how you render the greetin' of the day, aye?"

Artemis snapped up to attention, and so did Ebonshield. Lily took a moment to cough and sputter before raising her head up. Standing in front of them in her service uniform was no less a mare than a Sergeant Major -- and the pegasus recognized her, too.

It was Morgan Treechopper, the Valkyrie who accompanied Major Growler and Captain Goldenfoil when she ran into them at the Spa Dalecarlia. The one with the Cloudsdale accent, who’d called Artemis an 'absolute unit.'

With righteous indignation, she surveyed the three of the on-duty goof-offs.

"Well? Let's have it, then."

The three of them answered in unison.

"Good day, Sergeant Major!"
"Good day, Sergeant Major!"
"Good day, ma'am!"

‘Uh-oh.’

Ebonshield just said 'ma'am' to a non-commissioned officer. Instantly the Sergeant Major stepped up right in Purity’s muzzle; not unlike how her brother Marcos first confronted her in their quarters.

"'Ma'am,' aye? 'Ma'am'?! Do you spy wee little bars on my shoulders, Sergeant? Did you miss all the chevrons on my sleeves?"

Their disguised First Sergeant -- ‘or should I start calling her Seventh?’ -- didn’t budge an inch. Well, even if she'd never been to 'shoe camp, at least Ebonshield had experience with others being in her face.

"Good day, Sergeant Major!"

Treechopper barely acknowledged the correction. "Name and commandin' officer, Sergeant!"

Keeping her eyes forward, their disguised comrade tried to maintain her pegasus facade. "Blackspear, Sergeant Major. I serve under Lieutenant Violetta."

‘Not bad.’ Artemis could hear her batpony accent a little bit, but maybe Treechopper would miss it.

"You're no Cloudsdale pegasus, Sergeant."

‘Then again, maybe not.’

"Where're you from that they dinnae teach you how to properly render the greetin' of the day?"

‘Eek.’

If this interrogation continued on, things could get very awkward.

Artemis decided to stick her armored neck out. "Sergeant Major Treechopper!"

The words were barely out of Artemis’ mouth before she got a muzzleful of irate sergeant. The blue Air Division uniform over a white coat made for a somewhat intimidating appearance. Though something about the maroon shock of mane under the matching blue hat just didn’t quite work. Artemis dropped her thoughts about color combinations and focused on her original reason for interjecting.

"Per regulation six hundred dash twenty-five, chapter one, section three, item 'i,' soldiers serving on VIP escort duty are exempt from saluting or rendering the greeting of the day outside of Royal Guard facilities."

Treechopper nodded, tilting her head. "Oh, aye, aye, well-quoted, Specialist Sparkshower. Are you on VIP duty? Well then, allow me to apologize to your Very Important Pony. Would you kindly point him out for me?"

‘Uh-oh. She's got me there.’

As far as Artemis remembered, the 'no salute' rule only applied when they were on-duty with the Royal Engineer. Artemis was struggling to think of a good answer before this non-commissioned officer really exploded.

Glamerspear waded into the fray.

"Right behind us, Sergeant Major: The Whirlwind." She slowly waved a forehoof at the carriage. "By Appointment to Their Majesties Princess Celestia and Princess Luna, the Royal Engineer of Equestria has charged us with the lawful order of guarding his personal vehicle."

Treechopper was not buying it. "Very Important or no, that's nae a Pony, Centurion Glamerspear."

It seemed that her comrade anticipated this response. "Neither is Anonymous, Sergeant Major. We're on-duty for him either way. The rule applies when carrying out our VIP's direct orders as well. And as First Air Division isn't assigned to Canterlot Palace, Sergeant Major, it begs the question of whether you're trespassing in Their Majesties' Carriage-House."

‘Ooh, that's right!’

But all it seemed to garner from the Sergeant Major was an infuriated glare and an intensifying of her Cloudsdale burr. "Get tae fuck, Centurion. You've jes' earned yerself a pile of trouble."

Gritting her teeth, she stepped back to scowl at the three of them. "And believe me, I'm in a mood. To think now I've got to go and prepare the Valkyries for fightin' against a vehicle only the Major has seen in operation only for half an hour, and having it crewed by an alien, a Centurion of the Ram, a wielder of a Theolonicus lance, and a pegasus who's accent I cannae place." Still fuming, she huffed and puffed. "Aye, if it's an Article 91 punishment that'll get ye tossed from the Grand Tournament on the basis of unsuitability, I'll gladly fill out the paperwork. You may have done a turn of good in plucking Kilfeather's wings, but you've done a right bastard of an evil deed taking his place."

‘So that's what this is all about!’

Artemis moved quickly to try to defuse the situation. "Sergeant Major! Much as we're elated to be invited into the Grand Tournament, this arrangement was hardly our idea!"

She nodded in reply. "Aye, right, it was me own Major General Lady Hoofstrong. She's bustled you in through the back door like a pack of criminals." Treechopper shook her head, still scowling. "Major Growler's blue blood is still boiling about it. She's ordered me here to inspect the competition for mas'sell, an written me a 'passe-partout' to enter the Palace."

‘So much for charging her with trespass.’

The middle-aged Non-Commissioned Officer surveyed the Whirlwind behind them. "Ah dinnae ken what to make of this contraption. But I can tell you --" She raised a forehoof, baring her teeth. "You'll not be takin' it out between now an' the Tournament without a Valkyrie watching overhead. I'll have ready reports on every little move you make and every thing this beastie can do, so as to train the Jotunn to tear it to scrap."

The snarl changed to a smirk as she looked Artemis’ Bradamante lance up and down. "That's a fine weapon Lady Growler gave ye, and I'll not criticize it nor the hooves which first wielded it, but it's a wee little thing pulled from the darkest depths of a forgotten cellar compared to the glittering arms of the Valkyries."

Still sneering, she looked over the rest of the quaternion. "Aye, and though you've an exceptionally capable unicorn, I know from her file that she's a specialist conjurer, ill-suited as a weapon against plate armor. Well! Only two pegasi, and of them only one armored heavily, though she's got the advantage of size. But the rest of the flight is land-bound and of no concern. I'll still seize every opportunity and take no chances against you, but I'll nae worry: the Valkyrie Jotunn will win the tournament."

The 'Jotunn' - that was the nickname of the Valkyries' Third Heavy Air Wing. Major Growler must have put Treechopper in charge of winning the Grand Tournament, and she was clearly dedicated to the task. Artemis supposed that kind of dedication was how she got promoted to be Major Growler's right-hoof mare. Still, this was starting to sound a bit like she would actually sabotage the Whirlwind.

And that was something pegasus honor shouldn't allow.

"Sergeant Major Treechopper, this is a clash of storm-fronts. Will our VIP have to set a watch against tampering with his, and by extension Her Majesty's, property?"

As Artemis spoke the traditional phrase of a pegasus duel, the implied accusation against Valkyrie honor left the Cloudsdale pegasus' eyes smoldering. "Nae. I'll not sully our victory with sabotage. One of my Valkyries will be here or near-abouts, watching and guarding, but never touching." She raised an eyebrow. "But since you've taken up the banner of the First Air Wing, and by extension the First Canterlot Battalion and First Air Brigade, I'm sure it will be seen fit to place some soldiers of that command here to watch over my own watchers. Perhaps even the Major General will put her hoof in and assign guards personally so as to assure a fair fight."

With Artemis’ challenge dealt with, Treechopper inhaled, shooting a final glance at the Whirlwind. "Having thus completed my reconnoitre of the enemy, I'm finished here. As ye were, soldiers."

Artemis stepped to parade rest, and so did Ebonshield. With some hesitation, so too did Glamerspear.

But she couldn’t quite let things go as they were. "Sergeant Major! You know your article 91 will be thrown out by the CPMO."

The cunning Cloudsdale pegasus barely paused as she turned to go. "How no? That's between my officers and yours. But if you're so confident about escaping punishment for this incident, then take care you don't make any other mistakes -- because from now until the Tournament, I'm watching, and I'll catch you if you do."

The door opened and shut again, and the three-quarters of a quaternion were left alone in the garage, the mood considerably dampened.

Glamerspear made a noise like spitting. "Bitch."

Ebonshield rolled her shoulders anxiously. "Perhaps I should remove this armor now. This is for fooling lax sentries at night; I have not the skill in the Equestrian tongue to fool angry sergeants during the day."

That didn’t sound right at all. "Sergeant, you may not have satisfied her curiosity, but she didn't doubt that you were a pegasus -- and that's to our advantage."

Artemis quoted the basic tenets of warfare, as taught in the Royal Guard's reconnaissance school. "'All warfare is based on deception.' If they never find out you're a batpony until Grand Tournament, they won't know what to expect!"

Ebonshield shrugged. "This is true. Although even if I should wear this armor constantly, enough have seen me around the palace that this 'Treechopper' may find out anyways. But even if they discover I am not a pegasus, I doubt they will know what to expect in any case, since no Equestrian has seen me fight, besides the quaternion." She made a point of using the Equestrian word instead of the batpony equivalent, 'cuaternio.'

Glamerspear grumbled. "True, but one thing's for sure -- I've gotta work on making myself useful against heavy armor. And in less than three weeks! Maybe I should try figuring out how to conjure spears made out of 'tungsten' or 'uranium' like the Royal Engineer was suggesting."

Sitting on her haunches, Artemis tapped her forehooves together in thought. "Shooting something heavy and blunt might work well, too. Heavy plate doesn't do much against cannonballs or catapult stones."

Lily grimaced. "You want me throwing rocks? I'm a specialized technician, Sparks, not some drooling brute."

Hearing hoofsteps on the gravel outside the door, Artemis got back down on all fours again. "Maybe so, but a kill's a kill, Lily."

Who knew what might be liable to walk in -- a General sneaking a look at the Whirlwind, or maybe another senior NCO?

The door opened to reveal it was just Corporal Bound. "Alright, we're on libo for the rest of the day. Sergeant, if you didn't have any other plans, maybe after lunch we could start some of that training I mentioned?"

Ebonshield looked pleased, but Glamerspear interjected first. "What training?"

The sergeant replied with enthusiasm. "The corporal has asked to be taught some of the Stellar Dance. And I am only too happy to oblige." She turned to Honour. "We can begin in our quarters; for the first lessons, there is no need for the large practice space of the Grand Hall of Stars."

That seemed to disappoint their unicorn comrade. "Not in the Rookery? Oh."

Ebonshield turned back to Lily. "Did you wish to join in? I am willing to give some preliminary lessons to all of you."

Glamerspear sighed and looked over in Artemis’ direction. "Ehh, I'm not sure if your 'Stellar Dance' is really my style. To be honest, I was kinda hoping you'd head into the Rookery and I could maybe tag along -- maybe Sparks'd come with me, too. I wanted to see if that Ignacio character was willing to hoof out another lesson on his brand of magic."

Eb nodded with understanding. "Ah! Well, we could train in the Grand Hall, certainly. He is sure to be quite empty if we arrive in the afternoon."

Honour furrowed her brow. "Off duty or not, we can't all four of us be down under the mountain while our VIP's up here. I wouldn't even want us all to go out into the city at once."

The disguised batpony tilted her head reflectively, lifting her eyebrows. "Mother Superior Carmen did extend the hoof of hospitality to all of us. I know there has been hostility and danger before, but you should be allowed entry even without my accompaniment." She smiled. "And I am sure Ignacio will be happy to receive you. I have never seen him behave so hospitably before; he must be as interested in the magic of unicorns as you are in that of the Eclipse. Perhaps even more so."

Lily looked up at Artemis. "How about it, Sparks? Will you be my wingmare this time?"

Entering into the Rookery had so far proven pretty dangerous. But Treechopper was right: unless Glamerspear came up with a way to defeat armor, the Royal Engineer's Self-Propelled Air Defense vehicle 'Whirlwind' would never be able to beat the Valkyries, though it might beat every other flight in the Grand Mêlée. And winning the Grand Mêlée was worth taking some risks for.

Artemis smiled. "Lily, I'll be your wingmare any time."

She heard her stomach emit a growl like distant thunder on the horizon.

"...As long as we can have some lunch first."

Suggested interlude music: Junichi Nakatsuru - 'Distant Thunder', from 'Soulcalibur IV' [2008]
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u8MpcPIGhTo

Chapter 120

Lily Glamerspear

Specialist Lily Glamerspear was trotting along with her wingmare, Artemis Sparkshower, in the delightfully dark, dank, dangerous passageways under Canterlot Mountain.

‘Ugh.’

At least passing through the Royal Undermountain Constabulary's checkpoint hidden in Her Majesty's Apple Orchard Shed had been straightforward. She’d been down so many times now with Sergeant Ebonshield and the Royal Engineer that the post-officer didn't even blink when just the two of them showed up wanting to head in. It was just 'sign here, initial there, in you go.’ No recited warning about impending death and the complete unavailability of any Royal Guard backup or rescue team.

Maybe they'd heard of the beatdown they’d doled out the last time they were in there. News must sometimes get out of the pit that was the Night Guard Rookery, right?

Victory in that brawl was part of the reason why Lily wasn’t worried about the inevitable inner checkpoint either. What batpony was going to try to lay their bladed hooves or leathery wings on her after she’d personally gunned down half a dozen of their supposedly elite 'Swarming Meteors'? And there had been plenty of witnesses to the aftermath of the carnage -- the musicians, the batpony guards who showed up to clean up the mess, even the white-robed 'lunar' priestess-slash-diplomat.

Plus, this time she was ready for that guard post.

No way were those ornery spearponies getting the drop on Lily and her wingmare, not when she had her horn lantern on MAXIMUM BUCKING INTENSITY.

That's right, Lily Glamerspear was a one-mare anti-aircraft battalion's searchlight crew. She’s a teal fireworks show ready to blow. She was lighting up the normally pitch-black tunnel like it was noon on the summer solstice at the buckin' equator. Not even a cockroach could hide from her sight.

And definitely not the mare in shining armor behind her.

"Uh, not that I'm complaining, but that's awfully bright, don't you think, Lily?"

The unicorn turned her head briefly, unafraid to face the bronzed reflection of her own glory. Mainly because Artemis was wearing her black 'night ops' caparison instead of her usual white one, but also because Lily had her helmet's neutral-grey darkening lenses down over her eyes. ‘That’s right fillies and gentlecolts, I’m literally making it bright enough that sunglasses are not an optional accessory!’

"That's the idea, Artemis. I don't want anypony sneaking up on us. And I want 'em to know we're coming, too."

Sparks had her helmet's armored visor down, the slits in the metal acting like shutter shades.

Lily smirked and turned forward again. "Come on, we're almost at that cave full of pointy bits where they hang out."

The heavily-protected pegasus trudged after her, muttering. "Stalagmites and stalactites. The stalactites are the ones on the ceiling." Then she raised her voice back up. "But don't you think coming in this 'loud' is a bit... unfriendly? We're not here to cause any trouble, after all."

The unicorn scoffed. "Unfriendly? Remember what happened last time we came down here? Ya know, when the sergeant's brother tried to straight-up murder us with the help of a dozen of his goons?"

The soft scratching of bronze on bronze told Lily she was nodding.

"I know. But going in hard and bright like this starts us off on the wrong hoof, I think. And everypony treated that assault like an exception... Sergeant Ebonshield, the Lunar, even the guards who came in afterwards to take them away all seemed appalled that he would do such a thing. And the Reverend Mother apologized to the Royal Engineer in person, too!"

‘Apologized?’

Sure, apologized while attempting to seduce, maybe, according to what Honour told her. That slimy Reverend Mother Superior -- talk about an older mare unafraid to use her assets! Well, Lily wasn’t afraid to use her assets either, and this time she was going to use the particularly potent one attached to her forehead.

"I get you, Sparks, but it's not like I'm not going in with a spear conjured, nocked, and ready to fly. If anything, you could say the bright light is a courtesy to let 'em know we're coming. Like a siren on a ponice carriage, or something."

Artemis continued her grumbling. "I understand. Of course, we do need some light. But I'm wearing my 'night operations' black caparison to try to blend in as an ordinary Star once we get inside, and you're wearing the sergeant's black cloak over your armor for the same reason."

The unicorn heard her inhale sharply. "I'm still your wingmare either way, Lily, but I think you should tone it down to reasonable levels. Without the sergeant or the Royal Engineer, we may still have to negotiate our way into the Rookery, and it'll be easier if we keep things civil. That's all I'll say."

After a few more steps, Lily sighed.

Sparks was right, of course.

With some regret, the unicorn reduced the intensity on her glowing orb of light from 'eye-scalding reasonable replacement for the sun' to 'well-fuelled lantern with crystal-clear lenses.' It was a noticeable drop, but once she tapped her helmet's controls to retract the darkening lenses, Lily could still make everything out clearly. But she kept her mind ready to bring the beam all the way back up to power level eleven if there was a hint of treachery ahoof. The spiral passageway ceased its descent, and Lily knew the stala-whatever cavern must be just ahead.

Sure enough, after about fifty meters and a couple of turns -- which were starting to become memorable, given how many times she’d been here -- they arrived at the large open cavern that eventually would take them to the so-called 'Cave of Pillars.'

‘In here must lurk the Night Guard's border control.’

Lily steeled herself to fight her way in, though she was also prepared with a reasonable cover story. Sergeant Ebonshield had advised her not to say that she was there to visit a member of the Eclipse Phase. That would be seen as, well, really weird.

The Eclipse almost never led anypony into the Halls of the Blind, she’d said, except perhaps the grievously-wounded. For Glamerspear and Sparkshower to have been brought in for just a casual chat was a very rare honor indeed. Nopony outside their quaternion was really aware of it, either -- they were assumed to have gone with Ebonshield and her apprentices into the private area of her 'School of the Shining Stellar Dance'. So it would raise a lot of eyebrows to say Lily was going there now, and even more if she said she was going to learn magic from the old Balladeer of Ghosts, Ignacio Blazon.

The sergeant had suggested loading up saddlebags with reasonable gifts and pretending to be delivering some tokens of the Royal Engineer's appreciation to select members of the Rookery. She'd even schooled Artemis on how to present them, should they decide to actually go to the marketplace and drop stuff off for the various batponies who had been of assistance to the Royal Engineer so far. Her wingmare had the list of names and businesses to hit up.

All things considered, it probably would be a good idea to be seen making the rounds before heading off to try to meet Ignacio. Even if they let them through there, and regardless of their disguises, it was doubtless everypony within eyeshot would be watching their every move.

Lily heard a slight fluttering in the air above her, and glanced up to see two batponies, pasted to the ceiling to one of those stacthingies raising their wings to cover their eyes.

‘Hmm, looks like even this modest lantern-light is still too much for them to handle.’

Ahead, she heard some loud whispers and, eventually, a group of batponies shambled out to block the pathway between the rocky spires. Artemis came up close beside Lily and leaned over to speak in her ear, raising her visor to do so.

"I recognize the one in the middle; that's València Fierropezuña. She was on duty the first time we came down, remember?"

‘How the buck can that pegasus tell these dark-cloaked, dark-eyed, and dark-coated batponies apart?’

All Lily could make out was the whites of their eyes and teeth. She wasn’t even sure she could pick the sergeant out of a lineup of her kind.

"Halt, Equestrians!"

The sharp voice was familiar, at least. Except this time it wasn’t furious or mocking -- instead, it sounded almost... curious?

Lily came to a stop, and so did Sparkshower.

"...Hwho are jou, and hwhat are jou doing here at thees hourr?"

Clearing her throat, Lily slightly, subtly, increased the intensity of her light -- the better to put the heat on them. "I'm Specialist Lily Glamerspear, and this is Specialist Artemis Sparkshower. We're here on a mission on behalf of the Royal Engineer of Equestria, an honored guest of the Reverend Mother Superior."

Yellow eyes narrowed and then glanced sideways as the batpony convened with her comrades. After a moment, she pulled back her black hood to reveal a dark blue mane.

"Hwhat ees thees 'meession'?"

Glamerspear exchanged her own glance with Sparkshower.

‘Time to see if the cover story will work.’

"We're delivering gifts to the Royal Engineer's friends in the Rookery."

Lily saw a single dark-blue eyebrow lift up. "Geefts? At thees hhour?" She scoffed. "...Eet ees noon -- for us, eet ees like jour midnight. The amigos of the Ingeniero Real, they are all asleep."

‘That wasn't exactly a 'no'.’

‘Hmm.’

The first time, València was vehemently against even Ebonshield entering the Rookery alone -- presumably because Carmen was pissed off at her daughter taking the job she wanted to go by default to one of her Lunars. But now València was just sort of... casual. She clearly had orders to let them in under normal circumstances; it's just that these were kinda suspicious circumstances.

Foal, it must suck to be told to violently reject somepony one day and then be ordered to let them pass without nuisance the next. But then, what soldier hasn't had to deal with officers absurdly countermanding their own orders?

In that regard, maybe Lily could appeal to a sense of kinship as a fellow soldier?

She made a show of visibly shrugging, lifting her forehooves as she lied. "I know, but the Royal Engineer insisted that we make the deliveries immediately. I've got orders to just leave them outside doors if the addressees aren't in. There's notes attached written in your language. He wants to make sure his 'uh-meegoes' in the Rookery stay eager to do more business with him."

València didn’t look very convinced, but then Sparkshower took a half-step forwards. "And those friends, by the way, also include the efficient and honorable guards here at the entrance!"

She triggered the backup plan maybe a bit sooner than Lily would have liked, but she did in fact have such a gift.

"It certainly does..." The unicorn pointed a forehoof at a noticeable bulge on her black-cloaked flank. "...May I pull it out of my saddlebag?"

The guardsmare nodded, warily. "Sí -- jes. Slowly, eef jou pleese."

Sparkshower reached over to help Glamerspear lift up the draping outer-garment. With her horn already on lantern duty, she kept things simple and used her forehooves to dig out the packet she’d prepared for just this possibility.

València motioned for Lily to step up, and the unicorn brought the paper-wrapped package with her. Then València nodded, and one of her comrades bent down and opened it up. Inside the package was everything you needed to keep a bored guardspony occupied:

Two cartons of cigarettes, a box of matches, four tins of dipping tobacco, a case of chewing gum, a large bag of mints, another large bag of licorice allsorts, and a hooffull of assorted sports and celebrity-gossip magazines. One of the other guardsponies, a colt, reached down and tapped the picture of a cigarette on one of the cartons, and whispered something unintelligible in the batpony tongue. After a brief discussion back and forth, the squad leader piped up in Equestrian.

"We have seen theees before. Jou burn them and inhale the vapores?"

Lily nodded. "They're cigarettes. Made from dried tobacco leaf rolled up in paper sleeves. The tin is the same stuff but for sort of sucking on between your lips and teeth, instead of smoking." They looked skeptical, so she decided to try the brutal-honesty approach. "Look, I'll tell you straight, it's not exactly healthy for ya, but it's stimulating and it passes the time. As for the others, the chewing gum is the same thing with none of the drawbacks, and the candies are just sweet food. But smokes and dip are pretty common gifts for soldiers, up on the surface."

She nodded towards the pointing colt, and he reached down for the carton, opening it. Without too much effort, considering the labelling was all in Equestrian, he extracted one of the packs, broke the seal, and flipped open the top to reveal the individual cigarettes. Each of the batponies took one and put it in their mouth -- all of them backwards, filter out. Something to correct later, but first she indicated the matches.

"Those can be used to light the cigarette; you strike the tip against the rough outer edge and it catches fire, see the instruction pictures on the side? But since I'm here I can do them for you without the matches, if you want."

The prospect of Lily magically setting something on fire made the batponies' eyes go wide, but València kept a steady gaze. She pulled the cigarette out of her mouth and extended it towards Lily on a forehoof. Her light-globe barely flickered as she focused on a second spell and projected enough of a spark to ignite the white tip, then used a teeny tiny bit of telekinesis to spin the burning cylinder around the right way.

Hesitantly, València brought it back to her mouth and took a small draft, coughing slightly as she breathed out. She turned her head and quickly spat, but then licked her lips and gave the cigarette another taste. After a few puffs, she felt confident enough to leave it in her mouth.

The other batponies pulled their cigarettes out as well, holding them towards Lily, and she lit them all in turn. It very quickly started to get a bit smoky in that particular part of the cavern, and there was the soft sound of coughing as the novice smokers all tried to get over their first drag.

It was a somewhat familiar scene, given that Ebonshield translated similar instructions to the metalworkers when the Royal Engineer brought them some smokes as a gift, that night at the 'horchateria.' He even made a point of having Ebonshield tell them tobacco was considerably more toxic than alcohol, and he apologized, saying that he would try to think of something less hazardous for the next time -- then politely asked if they had any suggestions. Funny way of treating ponies who probably inhaled far worse fumes all day long from working in their forges and foundries.

Well, whatever; she couldn’t fault him for speaking the truth.

València motioned the two of them towards the open pack. "You weel smoke weeth us also?"

Lily wasn't a regular smoker, but if it would make this meeting go smoother, why not? "I'll join you, sure."

Sparkshower shook her head. "Not for me, thank-you."

The batpony indicated her comrade even as Lily plucked a white tube out of the pack for herself. "No? But jou said thees are a geeft frequent?"

Lily interjected. "Not everypony smokes. Like I said, it's not good for you; makes you short of breath." She lit up and took a drag, showing off a bit by blowing smoke out her nose. "It can cost a lot of bits, too, if you really make a habit of it. I used to be a pretty heavy smoker, before I realized it was making everything taste like ash, and causing me to start to slip on my physical tests, to say nothing of how the cravings were really stressing me out."

As the batponies watched in awe at Lily’s smoky demonstration, she continued. "My advice? Stick to at most four a day. Don't go looking for more when this stuff is done. And wash your mouth and have a strong mint afterwards." She indicated the candies. "Or else your partner might complain how your mouth tastes afterwards, ya know?"

‘Wait...’

Lily had just remembered that batponies don't have partners -- they get ordered to breed by the Lunars.

‘Well, even so they must surely kiss each other, no?’

‘Like, the colt can't just be going in on a dry mare…’

Unless the Lunars were more heavily involved? Maybe their 'priests' fluffed up the partners before the encounter? Lily wasn’t really sure she wanted to know the intricate details, and yet it was such an absurdly engrossing idea that she made a note to ask Ebonshield to spill the beans on it later, back upstairs in their quarters.

Across the little huddle from her, València confidently took a longer puff, then pulled the cigarette out of her mouth to look at it. "Ay see. Perhaps eet would be good to pay attention to the other geefts instead, jes?"

Like an experienced smoker, she pointed her cig at the magazines. "Hwhat are theese? Small books?"

This time Lily went full on the telekinesis, and lifted them all up into the air, splaying them out for all to see. "They're magazines. Small books, published every week or every month, covering popular news items."

The batponies looked intrigued, but València shrugged and took another drag from her smoke. "Jou are not aware, perhaps, that we do not easily read jour language? And among the Hatchets, ay am the best speaker of jour tongue."

Lily shook her head. "You don't really have to read to enjoy these..."

Flipping open the volleyball magazine, she showed off the huge, glossy photos of earth ponies mid-jump, dunking or guarding. There were even shots of pegasi players -- their wings tied up against their flanks -- and the occasional unicorn with a lighter, athletic version of the anti-magic shackles Lily had oh-so-recently sported. Have to keep the playing field level, after all -- even if as a result the earth ponies dominated the major league playerbase. Well, the owners were all unicorns and the coaches were mostly pegasi, so what did that say?

Lily scoffed as she riffled through all of the mags. "There's articles, sure, but I bet even you can figure out what they're saying. It's the same with the others."

She levitated the tracts a little closer to the bats. One of them hesitantly reached their forehooves out, cigarette still in mouth, grabbed the copy of 'Canterlot Match,' and started to page through it. But soon his face was scrunched up in confusion, and he said something to his squad leader.

València nodded her head towards him. "Hwhat about thees one? Eet ees not the sports."

Lily chuckled. "That's a gossip rag. You know, society figures, celebrity news, that kind of thing? Money, sex, and scandals?"

They didn’t seem to understand until she hit on that last word, and then all of a sudden there was a chorus of exclamations and nods.

"¡Los escándalos!"

"Ahhh, sí, sí."

One of them tapped the title words on the outside cover. "Los escándalos del ciudad Canterlot."

But then it was back inside for more huddled cries.

"¡Oye, mira esas piernas!"

"¡No importa las piernas, mira esa crin!"

"¡Ay-ay-ay!"

They were all poking forehooves at candid pictures of some Canterlot socialite at a society ball, ogling her plot and manedo. Even the batpony guardsmares were going nuts, waving their forehooves and flapping their wings, appearing to argue with the guardscolts -- probably over their comrades' taste in mares.

‘Heh, guards will be guards.’

Their leader watched the discussion with a dispassionate interest, then with a barked command shooed them all off.

"¡Es suficiente! Lea ahora, discuta más tarde."

The discussion died down as the squad of batponies broke up into smaller groups, each taking a magazine or two as well as some of the other offerings.

València turned her attention back to Glamerspear and Sparkshower. "Thees are generous gifts. Ay thank jou. But ay habe my orders, and ay must obey them..."

‘Damn, looks like it didn't work.’

But to her surprise, the batpony stepped aside to clear the path. "...By command of the Reverend Mother, jou are allowed eento the Rookery."

Even Sparkshower couldn’t resist a shocked exclamation. "Oh!"

With a glance back at her comrade, Lily snapped into a salute. "Thank you."

Batponies didn’t seem to salute, so she didn't expect one in return, but València at least returned the gesture with a polite nod. When Lily ended the exchange and started to take a few steps forward, however, the batpony thrust a forehoof out in front of Glamerspear and caught the peytral of her armor.

"One moment, eef jou please. A question..."

Lily stopped and turned to look at the grey-coated, blue-maned, smoking batpony mare.

"...Jou are a soldier. Jou have keelled before?"

Lily looked her in the eye. "Sure. Wasted plenty of changelings." Nodding her head at Sparkshower behind her, she continued. "She has, too."

València glanced at Artemis, then looked Lily in the eyes. "So. Marcos and hees Meteoros. Why deed jou leave them alibe?"

The unicorn narrowed her eyes.

‘Weird question to ask.’

"What, you'd prefer if we'd killed them?"

València lifted an eyebrow. "They threatened jou with death. Returning force weeth force ees reasonable."

Lily considered things carefully.

‘Why is she asking this question?’

She remembered the disdain batpony soldiers had previously shown for her and her Equestrian comrades. València, Marcos, even the other 'eights.' They all projected an air of superiority.

Despite their failure to beat the Royal Guard of the Watchtower, batpony Stars really must still think themselves better than Royal Guardsponies, at least on a pony-for-pony basis. Was that it? Did València wonder if Lily had left Marcos and his goons alive because she was unable to kill them?

Well, that sure wasn't the reason.

Lily scoffed. "I had orders to switch to non-lethal rounds. The Royal Engineer, my VIP and my commander, saw an opening to win with minimal bloodshed, so he took it."

Leaning in slightly, the unicorn reminded València of why she’d ever even come down here in the first bucking place. "He's an alien even in Equestria, you know. But Princess Luna thinks that means he could, ya know, maybe catalyze normal relations between your people and mine. Since he's a stranger to both of us?"

That didn’t seem to be enough for the batpony. "So eet was hees deceeseeon for jou not to keel?"

Lily opened into a bit of a grin. "Yeah. I follow his orders. Part of why he comes down here is to be a diplomat, and usually it's a bit harder to be diplomatic with people when you've killed a bunch of 'em, dontcha think?"

València nodded. "Jes..."

The batpony guardsmare lowered her forehoof, but Lily didn’t head out quite yet. València obviously had more to say.

"...Jou should know, then, that some of them may be keelled anyways. For breaking the Edict of Blood, and for betraying the Reverend Mother. Regardless of jour efforts, and the intentions of jour commander."

Lily looked the batpony border-guard in the eyes. "If that's your justice, then that's your justice. In Equestria, we try to fix criminals if they're our own. Or imprison them if they can't be fixed. That's how Princess Celestia prefers it, anyways."

With another courteous nod, Specialist Glamerspear started to move past her. "Enjoy the gifts, compliments of Anonymous, By Appointment to Their Majesties Princess Celestia and Princess Luna, Royal Engineer of Equestria."

Lily ended with his full title, maybe just to remind her new friend there that her boss reports to her Goddess. Even if Marcos called Princess Luna an 'impostor,' surely Princess Luna had to have some sway down here?

Or was that actually the problem?

Since she’d already left the guard-post behind, it was impossible to tell if her words had any effect.

Well, the Reverend Mother wanted them to be able to come in, so they were in.

As Lily stepped out onto the strange, regular hexagonal-columned floor of the 'Cave of Pillars,' she let out a sigh. She heard a similar exhalation behind her.

"Whew. That was a bit tense."

Lily nodded. "Yeah, they sure didn't make it easy."

A splash of water beneath her hooves and the reasonable lighting in here reminded her to kill her light globe and flip on one of the hoof-full of utility charms she knew -- this one, supernaturally grippy telekinetic horseshoes.

"Oh. Honour was going to remind you about that -- you need to remember to apply that to the whole quaternion. Well, except me, I guess. And Purity. You know -- because we've got wings."

Lily raised an eyebrow and turned her head.

‘Didn't they--oh, right.’

With a chuckle she shook her head. "Sorry. When you've been serving exclusively with unicorns like I've been doing, it's easy to forget not everypony else has got a horn and the standard kit of spells. Remind me again next time if I forget again."

As Lily passed behind the waterfall, she felt the chilly spray from the glacial meltwater. It was so stinging she was half-tempted to put up her barrier shield. But she’d grinned and borne the cold on previous trips, and she’d do the same now. Buck, the Royal Engineer hadn't complained when he came down wearing nothing but his armor and a cape -- and he didn't even have a coat of hair covering his skin!

Not much of one, anyways.

Emerging from behind the frigid curtain, Lily could see down towards the metal bridge which crossed the great cave's river. It seemed that despite it being midnight, batpony-time, there was somepony down there nonetheless. Hopefully their black cloak 'disguises' worked and they would just bow in respect until they were gone, missing the fact that neither of them were actually batponies.

Lily heard the agitated flapping of armored wings behind her.

"Hey! That's Ignacio, there, by the river! And he's got some water-jugs with him!"

‘No way!’

‘That crutch-using cripple -- well, crippled here in Equestrian gravity, instead of the bouncy Moon -- came all the way here to collect water?’

"You're sure, Sparks?"

She squinted, lifting a forehoof to her brow. "Positive, Glam. I can even make out his mask."

Lily snorted. "Well, I guess we're probably not delivering the gifts first, then. Funny coincidence. Or maybe..."

Trailing off, Lily kept her final thought to herself. ‘Maybe Ignacio's presence is no coincidence.’

She tapped the lens control on the side of her helmet to lower the magnifiers, letting her confirm what her eagle-eyed pegasus comrade already said. Retracting the lenses, Lily shook her head in confusion. It took another minute to descend the outer ledge-way and finally cross the bridge, but the batpony balladeer just sat there, hunched over his stick, next to a pair of clay jugs joined by a corded yoke for shoulder-carrying.

As soon as Lily’s hooves touched the hexagonal stones on his side, he grunted. "Ah! Good, jou are here at last. I have been waiting some time."

‘The buck?!’

That the blind batpony should recognize her was no surprise -- not with his explanation of how his ability to 'hear' magic worked. And she did have an active spell on her hooves. But still, the colt moved at a snail's pace -- no way did he 'hear' her coming all the way down the tunnel, especially not if he was in his friggin' underground lair on the bucking Moon.

As Sparkshower took up a position on her left, Lily scrunched up her muzzle something fierce. "You knew we were coming? How?"

With a grin, he shrugged. "The shadows told me."

‘That doesn't answer anything!’

‘Worse, it raises another question!’

"Which shadows -- the actual shadow-phase batponies, or the magical 'accursed' shadows?"

Chuckling, he raised a forehoof and waved it dismissively. "Jou misunderstand me. In our tongue, to say that the shadows did something, is to blame hazard -- fortune. This is because the shadows -- the shadow-phase ponies, those at the very lowest of society - are believed to be responsible for many acts of mischief. Therefore all things not intentional are blamed upon them."

‘So, what?’

‘He's saying he's here by random chance?’

‘Not likely!’

"Come on, don't tell me you just happened to be here fetching water and you 'heard' me coming with my magic spell of illumination."

He pointed a forehoof at her horn. "I very easily could have! Jou were making so much noise with that enormous expenditure of magic a little while ago, jou could have woken up every Eclipse on the Moon, if the passageway between here did not mute such things."

Sparkshower piped up. "So you didn't hear her coming from your home."

Ignacio grunted. "No, I was already here. Because the shadows told me that jou would come."

Lily narrowed her eyes. "The accursed shadows told you, you mean. You used magic to spy on us up on the surface?"

He shook his head. "No. I have a role in the Rookery, as a balladeer, and this position, and my old age, leaves me no time to be always listening to jou, or anypony else, besides."

‘But he doesn't deny being able to do it!’

Scrying on somepony might not be impressive in terms of magical power but it required a fair bit of skill. Something to bring up later if that really was something he could do.

As for the question at hoof, Lily was positive that Ebonshield didn't send any message down ahead of them, which left one uncomfortable option.

"Then, what -- you... you divined our coming?"

The old blind batpony sorcerer tilted his muzzle back and took a deep breath through his nose. "Jes. As I said, the shadows told me."

Lily was stunned to silence. Prophecy, divination -- these were very, very tricky things to master with any reliability. Even some of the most revered sages of Equestria often got fortune-telling wrong, and that was about major, world-altering events. Yet here was this crippled, blind, old batpony who casually prophesied that she’d be coming to the Rookery to pay him a visit, which she'd only decided to do, like, two hours ago.

While Glamerspear was still awestruck, Sparkshower gasped as realization struck. "Aha! You were making a joke, earlier! It's a double-meaning! 'The shadows told me' is what any other batpony would have said to a chance encounter -- except that the shadows really did tell you to come here!"

Ignacio turned to her and nodded, smiling. "Jes. I am glad jou understand. It is good to make progress in relations between our peoples. Now, please, help me to fill these jugs and bring back some water to my home, and then we can have jou dressed properly for our excursion."

Lily recoiled her head in confusion. "Excursion? What excursion?"

Ignacio paid her query no heed as he slowly un-looped the cord from the neck of both of the jugs, freeing them to be filled individually. "It is good that only the two of jou have come. The vision was, I admit, not entirely clear as to jour numbers. Aldonza was able to make only three of the amulets for disguising in time. If the five of jou had all come, this would have been a problem."

As the pegasus took one of the jugs from him, Sparkshower lifted the edges of her cloak with her wings. "But Mr. Blazon, we already have disguises! Black cloaks, like the Star-phase soldiers! Glamerspear's even borrowed Ebonshield's own."

He smiled, while all Lily could do in the confusion was grasp the second jug in her telekinesis, barely paying attention as she levitated it over to and into the river.

"Of course, of course. But these will not stand up to the scrutiny close. And jou are permitted to be here, even without the disguises. I wish to take jou to the Moon, where jou are not permitted, in order for jou to see the crater."

Without even looking, Lily lifted the full jug back out of the raging current and placed it back on the ground. "'The' crater? Doesn't the Moon have, like, hundreds of them?"

Fluttering back from the river with her own sloshing jug, Sparkshower piped up. "Thousands, I think. Tens of thousands, even."

With a sincere nod, Ignacio put stoppers in each of the jugs and then lashed them to the yoke once more. "Hundreds of thousands. Millions, perhaps -- I am not sure if they have all been counted."

He tapped the top of the yoke, and gestured the two Equestrians towards it.

‘Looks like he doesn't plan on carrying the full load back himself.’

With Lily still half-dazed at how casually he spoke of divination, Sparkshower stepped up to shoulder the load, and he hunched over to adjust the cords to fit her snugly.

Having done so, he amusedly tapped one of the jugs with his crutch. "Good! Now jou are a Star-phase who carries water like she is Dust. And a Dust who is obviously wearing the armor made of bronze. Ah, well, this will be less disruptive than if jour comrade had instead levitated them all the way back, and in any case there are few ponies about at this hour."

With a half-toothless grin underneath his blindfold, he led them away from the river and towards the entrance to the Rookery proper, hobbling slowly along with his crutch.

‘There's no way he carried the jugs down here himself -- he must have had help from somepony serving as a porter.’

That would be a Dust-phase, then, since that's what he was calling Sparkshower.

Lily suddenly realized he never actually answered her last question.

"So, which of these millions of Moon-craters are you taking us to?"

Ahead of the unicorn, Ignacio stopped abruptly. Sparkshower, carrying the water-jugs, clattered to a halt beside her. Behind them, Lily could still hear the soft roar of running water from the river and waterfall.

After a muted pause, the old batpony looked over his shoulder, his black blindfold with its red fringe appearing ominous in the shadow of the tunnel they were presently in.

All other sounds died to a whisper when he spoke.

"There are millions of craters on the Moon, jes. But for the Children of the League of Stars, the creations of the Great Mother whom jou know as the Nightmare Moon... there is only one which matters."

Suggested interlude music: Toto - 'Trip to Arrakis', from 'Dune' [1984]
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D18N1NQIZ7Q

Chapter 121

Honour Bound

Corporal Honour Bound felt like she was being tortured on a rack.

Except there was no rack -- just the floor of the commons area of their Canterlot Palace guard quarters. And if there was torture, it was entirely self-inflicted. After all, she did ask Sergeant Ebonshield to teach her the ways of her 'Stellar Dance.' That Honour was twisted into a pretzel shape on the carpet, her joints stinging in pain, was her own damn fault.

‘You asked for this.’

"Bueno, good. Try to hold this position for as long as possible."

Easy for her to say; she'd been doing this for over thirty years. Compared to Honour and her rusty iron limbs, Purity was made of silly putty. No surprise she was doing a far better job of this pose right now than the corporal was. But it was generous of the batpony to call Honour’s half-assing of it 'good.'

And ambitious of her to suggest she could hold it.

"Hngr." The earth pony emitted a noncommittal grunt as she struggled to keep things steady. It'd been years since she’d tried to do this sort of contortion. Actually, now that she thought about it, she wasn’t sure if her various lessons ever involved a position quite like this. Not to say they didn't come with their own set of pains and little injuries.

"Are you uncomfortable? Do not continue if the pain is overwhelming. Even this starting position can overstretch the body."

‘Oof, this is just a starting position?’

Honour tried to take a deep breath in-between pants. There was sweat beading on her brow.

"It… hurts, but it's bearable."

Purity nodded. "I see. Do not exceed your limits; in this introductory class I wish to see where you are presently. For now, focus on the maintaining."

‘Focus on maintaining, right.’

It was actually kinda hard to focus on anything else. If she did, Honour would surely let go like a heavily-compressed carriage spring suddenly liberated from its mountings. Good thing she’d moved all the furniture out of the commons area and piled it into her bedroom first. There was nothing to be damaged, besides the walls, if an errant hoof went flying.

The sergeant, appearing calm and relaxed in spite of her ever increasing state of contortion, stared intently at Honour. "This is an auspicious day to begin training: Monday, the day of the Moon. The day of the Great Mother."

With serene grace, she twisted her neck back and rolled it around in a manner that seemed impossible, almost touching her brow against her own shoulders. No, not impossible -- Honour remembered seeing a move like that in one of those classes she’d taken, when she was trying to get into this stuff. Contortions, accompanied by burning incense, banging gongs, and learning the wisdom of the dragons -- or the buffaloes, or the yaks, or whatever. And now here she was, learning the wisdom of the Moon.

Well, at least she’d seen what the wisdom of the Moon could do with a set of daggers. Yvan the Yakasutric Yogi, a nasal-voiced, skinny 30-something earth pony colt with a braided beard hanging down to his knees and a mane in a colt-bun, who’d taught Honour a few classes of Yakasutra back in Filly', was definitely not about to slice anypony up, being an avowed pacifist.

Which was not to say she hadn't crushed on him a little bit -- pacifism, colt-bun, and all.

It was hard not to, considering his lithe grace, and especially when he so gently but oh-so-firmly would place a forehoof under her barrel, or on her hindquarters, to 'adjust' her pose in one of the Yakasutric positions. Honour wasn't the only mare in his classes he did that to, and she was sure she wasn’t the only one who got more than a little hot under the tail when he did it, but in the end, what turned her off was her inability to stomach the spiritualist nonsense that he lived, ate, and breathed. How many other things had her confirmed material realism shut down during that time? More than her fair share of dates, that much was certain.

"...Caporal, is your mind somewhere else?"

Honour snapped her head up, her eyes adjusting to bring the room back in focus.

‘Right, the pretzel shape and the accompanying pain.’

"Sorry."

Purity lifted an eyebrow. "I cannot teach a student who does not pay attention. Perhaps we should not have skipped the preliminary exercises."

‘Now I’ve done it.’

Purity might accept a shittily-executed stretching pose, but a head in the clouds was right out.

Honour cleared her throat. "I apologize. This was just reminding me of those other classes I mentioned."

With surprising speed, the batpony unfolded herself and got to her hooves. "I see. And these other classes, what were they like?"

The corporal’s jaw dropped to find Purity standing in front of her so rapidly.

"Uhm, well... They involved adopting positions sort of like this, and then holding them."

The batpony leaned her muzzle over in front of Honour’s. "That is all? Nothing else?"

Honour would have shrugged if her shoulders weren't locked in place from her forelegs being entangled with the other two. "Sometimes there would be candles or incense. And the teacher would recite poetry translated from another language, or sing a monotone repetitive phrase to 'empty the mind.' Maybe with somepony accompanying them on a simple drum or gong."

Eb lifted her brow. "Would you prefer if I added such things to our lesson?"

Honour tried to tighten her pose back up to where it had been when she started, but her muscles were starting to go on strike. "If you have to... To be honest, that kind of stuff turned me off."

Purity chuckled, grinning. "Then we are fortunate that my Temple does not use them." Turning around, she withdrew and sat back down, almost instantly readopting the tangled pose which was giving Honour so much trouble. "Is there anything else from your past we should avoid? Or, perhaps something we must confront instead? A clear mind is better suited to the understanding of the realities novel, and we have many such realities to explore."

The corporal let out a whinny of her own. "I thought you said we could forgo the metaphysics."

"Only if you can pay attention. Do you find that your head is often in the clouds?"

Suddenly uncomfortable, Honour swallowed. Never mind the mantra-spouting hip and hot yoga colt, now the batpony was reminding her more of her stern, old-mare schoolteacher. Except that, as an adult instead of a miscreant child, Honour was less inclined to lie through her teeth about her misdeeds.

"Lately, a little more often than not."

Wordlessly, Purity unfolded her body and then refolded herself in a new way. No -- it wasn’t new, it was the same pose as Honour was currently holding, just mirrored left-to-right. There was a word for that -- 'stereoisometric.' Yvan taught her that one, among a few other big, mouthy words. If nothing else, she could credit his attempts at imbuing spiritual enlightenment with expanding her vocabulary, and for making her want to know where the words really came from and what they really meant. Unprompted, Honour released her aching muscles and tendons only to stretch them again as she struggled, slowly, to copy Purity’s reversal. Strangely, she felt like she could take it further this time, with less pain.

‘Shouldn't this hurt just as much as the other way?’

Watching her closely, the sergeant continued. "Tell me, when your thoughts wander, where do they wander to?"

‘That's an open-ended can of worms.’

Reflecting on her own thoughts, Honour tried to summarize them in something comprehensible. It wasn't easy; so often, a little detail could bring memories of emotional past events flooding into her mind: her ex-husband, the aftermath of that marriage, the Changeling invasion...

Or provoke melancholy thoughts about where she currently was, life-wise: still just a corporal at twenty-four, when she should have two years as a sergeant under her belt, and still stuck in the no-promotion zone of the VIP section.

And when she started thinking about where she was, well, that just led down the road to thinking morosely about where she was going, as if she even knew the direction her rudderless ship was heading.

‘Well, that's it, isn't it?’

"I guess it's mostly 'where am I going.' What my fate is, that sort of thing."

Still contorted into that stereoisometric pretzel, Purity somehow effortlessly released a forehoof from the knot they were tied in and stretched it up into the air.

‘Now how the buck did she do that?’

"You do not strike me as somepony who places her trust in fate."

Looking to her own limbs, Honour tried to replicate Eb’s motions, only to find the matching foreleg was absolutely stuck, locked in place by the other three, as the position seemed to dictate.

"I think you should have to work for what you want, if that's what you mean."

The corporal jerked her shoulders but it was no good: the only way out was to loosen the knot, but Eb didn't have to do that to get her foreleg free; Honour would have noticed.

The batpony looked over at her. "Do you think that all effort should be rewarded?"

Gritting her teeth, Honour tried to figure a solution to the puzzle. There had to be a secret to untangling herself the way Purity did.

"Sure. That's the classical earth pony philosophy, you know -- hard work pays off in the end."

Eb slowly waved around her liberated foreleg like she was taunting the earth pony with it. "Yet you are unhappy with your current situation. So then this must mean that you did not work hard enough?"

Furrowing her brow, the corporal allowed herself to slacken the entanglement in order to withdraw her foreleg. It was not cheating, it was just experimenting, trying to get a better grasp of the problem. She put it back and extended the stretch again, certain that she’d found the correct approach -- only to be denied success once again.

"I know I didn't. I told you how I took the easy way out when I fell for my husband. I suppose joining the VIP section to get out of Filly' was like taking the easy way out, too."

In what could only be a deliberate provocation, Purity slipped her foreleg back into the tangled mess of her limbs and twisted it into place.

‘Impossible!’

Honour couldn’t see any sign that Ebonshield had moved anything else at all. How did she make it look so easy?

"I tell you that you are wrong, Caporal Bound." Then, just as easily, the batpony pulled her hoof out once again. "Hard work does not 'pay off in the end.' You may work as hard as you please, but if you do the wrong work or the work the wrong way, then it will come to nothing, or next-to-nothing. Look at how you struggle to do what I have done. Is that struggle 'paying off?'"

‘Foal-of-a-bitch!’

That was some stuck-up philoso-nonsense if Honour had ever heard it. "I might be struggling, but I'm exploring options, ruling things out, trying things, solving the puzzle. I'll get there eventually."

Eb chuckled. "But why not simply ask me how it is done? I am here as your teacher."

‘Uh…’

‘Huh.’

"And you are not an expert in the contortion of the body. An expert who did not know this pose might still struggle to understand the little trick I have done. When you understand your own limits, then you may avoid the hard work unnecessary."

Smiling, the batpony completely un-knotted herself, then rose to her hooves and approached Honour once more. "Which is not to say that hard work is not often required. To be a Stellar Dancer, like many other things, requires much practice and exercise, and this is often without the reward or success immediate."

Sitting in front of the earth pony, Ebonshield extended her forehooves and touched one against Honour’s elbow and the other against the same foreleg's hoof. With the slightest of adjustments, that foreleg was suddenly liberated, and she found she could slide it out of the knot of limbs just as the batpony did.

‘What is this sorcery?’

"Such is this principle of asceticism which lays at the foundation of my Temple."

Honour was shocked by how effortless that felt, once the sergeant put the corporal in the right position. She was certain she wouldn’t be able to work it back in without similar guidance.

‘But wait -- what's she saying about her Temple?’

"Asceticism? You're supposed to be an ascetic? But you eat and drink as much as anypony else, bar Sparkshower's bottomless stomach, and you were hitting up clubs to find yourself a coltfriend almost the minute you got the chance. Surely that's hedonism, not asceticism."

The middle-aged batpony mare threw her head back in laughter. "Haha! Yes, this is true! But you must understand, Caporal: in my Temple, asceticism is not the opposite of hedonism."

Grinning, she touched Honour’s other limbs and gently helped her unfold herself. It was quite a relief to have things straight and relaxed the way they were supposed to be. The corporal hadn’t quite realized just how much she’d strained herself during even this brief exercise -- everything fell limp, and Honour was little more than wet string in Ebonshield’s hooves.

"The word 'ascetic' comes from the ancient Pegasus word meaning 'exercise.' For the Stellar Dancers, asceticism means understanding that much practice is required to achieve success. This practice must take priority until the techniques have been mastered."

Gaping slack-jawed in confusion and awe, Honour watched as the batpony felt the corporal’s joints and ran the tips of her forehooves along invisible lines down her legs, as if trying to sense something.

"Hedonism is similarly derived from the ancient Pegasus word for 'pleasure,' and this is the principle that happiness is what is most important in life. For the Stellar Dancer initiate, happiness must derive from the execution of exercises which bring the slow, gradual mastery of skills. For the master, happiness must derive from the teaching of students. But both may enjoy their meals and drink, provided this does not interfere with their work, and likewise they may enjoy the pleasures of company according to the commands of their House."

Grinning, she looked Honour in the eyes and retreated back to her little spot on the carpet. "And for the master who experiences the liberty temporal to roam around Canterlot and not work every single day, well, a little more of those other non-ascetic pleasures is permissible."

The corporal was, once again, reminded of her past. Back during those Yakasutra lessons, she quickly got the sense Yogi Yvan was probably sleeping with some of his mare students, despite his claims to live an austere, celibate, and asexual lifestyle. She probably could have joined his stable of 'disciples,' if she’d wanted to. But he was a bit of a hypocrite, pretending to be something he wasn't. Ebonshield's open admission of indulgence was different.

"That's it? Despite all the mysticism you claimed for your Temple, when it comes to asceticism it's just 'laissez-faire'?"

Eb shrugged. "They are largely unrelated. We do not believe that a restricted diet is required to understand or practice the Dance, or that one must abstain from all other activities. Moderation and attention is sufficient."

The sergeant bobbed her head sideways, chuckling. "Of course, one should know how to survive frugally, and even be prepared to go without for periods at a time. Training for this is important, because sometimes such is necessary in order to write a name in our book. Deprivation should be practiced on a regular basis like any other skill, but not maintained constantly."

Lifting a forehoof up, she traced an arc in the air above her. "Unlike the other Temples of the Stars, who learn to fight together, we learn to fight alone, as there is much more ease to infiltrate a single Dancer than a whole troupe."

As Purity looked up, she rose up on her other forehoof and one of her hind hooves, her torso facing Honour. "Come, follow me once more. This is part of the Slow Dance, and trains balance."

"Okay."

Balancing on one side she could do -- she used to be able to do, anyways. Maybe not quite as easily while stretching a foreleg up high.

As Honour achieved the pose, Eb lifted her free hind leg up as well.

‘Oh, so it's like that, standing like a coin balancing on edge?’

The corporal tried to follow, but where the sergeant was as still as a statue, Honour found herself wobbling uncomfortably, her free limbs waving in the air above her. Ebonshield belonged as a marble piece in a museum; Honour was more like one of those silly, inflatable, dancing attention-getters outside of carriage and cart dealerships.

"There are no tricks to this. Only strength, tone, and experience. But do you know, when I asked you to move the furniture into your room while I 'prepared' in mine, I had to practice these techniques for myself again? I am a good contortionist, but far from the best in my Temple, and there has been some time considerable since I performed the first demonstration."

Still trying her best not to topple over, Honour grunted. "Is this supposed to be another philosophy lesson?"

Gracefully, Ebonshield lowered one side down and then balanced up on it, reversing the pose.

‘Another one of those, huh.’

‘Well, sure, let's try the left side instead of the right.’

Honour got up, and it really wasn’t much better. Having these limbs up in the air didn't wear them out as fast as balancing on them, but they were still more tired than her other side was when she’d started this new set of poses.

"Only a continuation of the first. Can you guess at the thesis?"

‘Guess the point of a mystic Moon-wisdom lesson while I’m sideways-balancing on two hooves?’

‘Not likely.’

"Uh... Something about practice making perfect? But only if it's the correct practice?"

"That is a good lesson, but not the first wisdom of the Maestro Romà de Balj, who founded my Temple. His first wisdom is what I wish to teach you today. Would you guess again?"

Just when Honour felt herself about to topple over, Ebonshield arched her back and lifted her hind leg, until she was balancing entirely on just a single forehoof.

‘Well, I definitely haven't done that one before.’

And if Honour was going to fall, she may as well fall from one hoof instead of two; it was less embarrassing that way.

It was tough going to lift her hindquarters into the air until she felt her weight was mostly on her forehoof, and her other three limbs shuddered violently above her as she struggled to keep her balance. Honour managed the pose for about half a second before tumbling over onto the carpet. No walls were damaged, and against the thick carpet, her drop made nothing more than a dull thud -- too dull, she was sure, to have woken up her exhausted VIP downstairs.

That was an important consideration, after all.

Stretching and balancing up here was all well and good, but when it came to jumping around or actually learning fighting, she would definitely have to find someplace else. Hopefully somewhere closer and safer than the Rookery.

Honour looked up at the motionless master of assassins. "Maybe I'm supposed to learn I won't be able to copy your every move from the get-go?"

Ebonshield looked at the corporal with an upside-down head, as her mane brushed against the floor and her tail hung behind her back. "Another good lesson, but also a guess incorrect. Try again?"

Honour was pretty sure she could keep on coming up with trite little aphorisms for hours without figuring what Purity wanted her to say.

"I don't know, Sergeant. I think I could go on guessing all day and not hit on the answer. Is this another example of how 'hard work doesn't always work?'"

Eb upside-down shrugged at her. "If you cannot guess the answer, then how will you ever know?"

Whinnying with frustration, Honour swung a foreleg in her direction. "I'd have to hope you just up and tell me."

At that, the sergeant suddenly jerked her body over and landed, balancing on a single hind hoof. "Yes. Exactly. And what would cause me to tell you?"

Now Honour was really confused.

‘Where is this supposed to be going?’

"I mean... Are you saying just asking the question wouldn't be enough?"

At that, Eb grinned, and bent her supporting foreleg down.

"No..."

With a sudden push, she flipped over backwards into the air, landing neatly on all four limbs once again.

"...I am saying that just asking the question is precisely enough."

Stepping over towards the corporal, she held out a foreleg to help Honour to her hooves. "The first lesson of Maestro Romà de Balj is this: The Great Mother wants us to learn, or else She would not have made us capable of learning. The Great Mother wants students to ask, or She would not have given them mouths to speak. And the Great Mother wants teachers to answer, or She would not have given them ears to hear. There are to be no secrets kept between masters and students."

After helping her up, the sergeant stepped around beside the earth pony and pressed down on her hindquarters. "Sit, Caporal. This is the most important lesson: to learn the Shining Stellar Dance, you must grasp what you do not know, and ask for your master to reveal this to you."

Honour furrowed her brow. "Students aren't expected to figure things out for themselves at all?"

Eb circled around behind her. "In my Temple, the role of the masters is to provide challenges and instruct in their solutions. The first task is to understand a challenge enough to ask the right questions. The second task is to master the answer. Challenges take many forms, and are not always obvious..."

Stepping back in front, Honour found herself muzzle-to-muzzle with the dark purple batpony.

"...First I asked you to adopt a position, which I demonstrated. This was a challenge obvious. You understood enough that no questions were needed. You provided the answer, though you have not mastered this. Then I changed forms, and you correctly saw this as a challenge as well. Finally I pulled one leg out, and you recognized this also as a problem but you did not know the solution."

The sergeant tilted her head down and moved forward even more, her lilac eyes right up in front of Honour’s. "I saw your frustration. You were upset at failing. You were indignant that what for me seemed so easy could for you be so difficult. Your failure made you become angry when I challenged your philosophy."

Withdrawing, she raised a forehoof and placed it gently on the corporal’s brow. "You must let go of these emotions unproductive. We are not rivals. You are here to learn, and I am here to teach. Many things will require practice. But if there are secrets that you realize you do not know, then you must ask to learn them, without hesitation or remorse. To be ignorant is not an embarrassment. To ask a question is not shameful. That is the first lesson of Maestro Romà de Balj."

‘Hmm.’

Feeling a bit chided by Purity’s lecture, Honour nodded. "Okay. Ask questions. I get it."

The batpony smiled, removing her forehoof from the earth pony’s brow. "Aha! No, you do not. I have given you the answer, Caporal Bound, and you may know this wisdom enough to recite the words -- but now you must practice and master them, and make them a part of you."

The smile turned into a grin, and she cackled. "Hehe! And that is a task far more difficult than mastering the little trick with the foreleg in the pose called 'Refollau,' which I shall presently explain to you."

Honour took a deep breath.

‘Looks like the torture-rack isn't done with me, yet.’

Chapter 122

Lily Glamerspear

Specialist Lily Glamerspear found that no amount of light could make these 'Halls of the Blind' any less spooky. She didn't find them particularly scary the first time she was here, to be honest, but after what happened inside, her hackles were up.

That was at least counterbalanced by an apparent girding of loins from her comrade, Specialist Sparkshower. She wasn’t quaking in her armor and nervously butting into her plot the whole way this time.

‘Thank Celestia.’

Actually Lily was a bit surprised that the old coot Ignacio hadn’t asked her to turn down the juice on her illumination. Usually when she had a spell cranked up to one hundred and ten percent (or, buck, even just one hundred percent), he complained about the 'noise' all her magic usage generated.

Not so, this time.

‘Maybe he's just managing to block it out?’

Or maybe he realized that, hey, Glamerspear and Sparkshower still need light to see, and it was awful creepy in these tunnels, annoying buzz or no.

‘Well…’

‘I should turn it down a bit, I suppose.’

It wasn’t like mere light kept away the shadow daemons from another dimension, did it? They had to be summoned, anyways. And it wasn’t like Ignacio was going to do that right here and now. Actually, didn't he say that lesson two would involve her summoning one?

‘Buck, I’d better preserve my mana for that.’

The instant Lily’s light bulb faded down from 'midnight stage show' to 'ordinary spelunking' level she heard a gasp from behind her followed by anxious whispers.

"Lily! What's wrong?"

Maybe Ms. Armor Plate hadn't quite gotten over her fear of darkness just yet.

"Nothing's wrong. I'm saving mana. And I want to prep our eyes for the dim light so we're not blind when I have to shut it off completely, that's all."

"Oh! Oh, I see. Right."

For somepony who'd been complaining just minutes ago that her light was too bright for the border guards, Artemis sure was clinging to it here in these spooky tunnels. It was like that old proverb: you can lead the pegasus through tight claustrophobic pitch-black tunnels again and again until she knows the way by heart, but you can't make her comfortable doing it.

Or whatever.

Ignacio silently led them on, which was something of another surprise. He was pretty snippy back in the Cave of Pillars. That seemed to be his usual attitude. Now, though, he seemed a lot more focused.

After a vaguely familiar turn and sudden ramp up, Lily was greeted with a familiar red glow.

"Here we are. Remove jour cloaks and jour armor. Place the water jugs with the others against that wall."

The instructions were very matter-of-fact.

Aldonza, the old eclipse-phase mare was here again, too -- the one Ignacio said made all of the Rookery's magical, iron-caged lanterns. Lily didn't see Rocinante, the infirm other Balladeer, though.

Sparkshower trundled carefully over to unburdern herself, minding the slope and the low gravity.

Lily decided to stick with where she was and removed her armor pieces first, but she called out to the other batpony present. "Hello, Madam Aldonza."

A face covered by another red-fringed black mask looked up at the unicorn from the circle of seat-pillows around the flameless fire. She spoke in a hoarse whisper.

"Hello, unicornio. Welcome once again." Aldonza pointed a forehoof at the empty seat next to her. "Whicheber of jou feeneeshes first, come and seet beside me. Ay habe a tool for jour journey."

‘A tool?’

A disguise, presumably, if Ignacio wanted their cloaks and armor off. He did mention 'dressing' her properly for the excursion.

Avoiding second looks in the Rookery during the batpony’s sleeping hours with those star-phase black cloaks was one thing, but neither of them would pass a second, closer inspection, what with the Royal Guard outfits underneath them, to say nothing of the obvious horn poking out of her forehead or the feathers on Sparkshower's wings. Given what Ebonshield did this morning at the Royal Engineer's Self-Propelled Air Defense vehicle demonstration, though, Lily had a pretty good idea of what was coming.

"I'm guessing one of those things is a disguise, right? Like, say, a magical suit of armor to make us look like batpony soldiers?"

Ignacio, free of his crutch in the low-gravity environment, grunted dismissively. "Armor is for Stars, and to disguise jou as Stars would be more suspicious than to take jou out as jou are right now."

Having undone her water-carrying harness, Lily’s pegasus comrade spoke up with her helmet already halfway off of her head. "Stars aren't allowed where we're going?"

The batpony Balladeer shuffled over to the central fire and busied himself stirring the pot presently stewing over it.

‘Strange, it doesn't really smell like cooking in here. It just sort of smells like... nothing, really.’

"All are permitted to visit the Crater, but Eclipse seldom travel with anypony. And the place where we wish to go is accessible only with the escort Lunar, or else as an Eclipse."

With the use of telekinesis and the fact that Lily was just plain less armored than Sparkshower, the unicorn naturally finished undressing first and trotted her way over to Aldonza -- being very mindful of the fact that each step seemed to send her bouncing high into the air.

‘Take it slow, Lily.’

The ancient batpony mare dipped her mangy forehooves into a wide ceramic bowl in front of her, pulling out a long loop of string with a black metal disc dangling from it on a small ring. It almost looked like it could be a medal -- if it were shiny and gold, that is, instead of dull and black.

"Ay make only tree of teese. Eet ees fortunate that only two of jou habe come. There would not habe been enough for more."

‘So the prediction really wasn't that specific, interesting.’

Slowly, as if each movement was a terrible strain, the withered batpony mare brought her forehooves up to meet the unicorn’s brow. The effort made her limbs tremble, and Lily immediately dipped her head to make things easier.

"Gracias. Thees ees an amulet with wheech to disguise jou as one of us -- as an Eclipse."

She slipped it over Glamerspear and allowed it to rest around her neck, the iron disc dangling against her chest.

‘Strange, I don't feel any different.’

She looked down at her hooves and couldn't see any change, either. She glanced over her shoulders -- no bat-wings had appeared. But when her eyes turned to Sparkshower, who was down to unbuckling her croupiere, Lily saw the pegasus’ jaw drop.

"Thundershowers!"

‘Well, it must be working.’

"How do I look?"

Artemis shook her head. "How do you look? How can you even see me with that black mask on? Can you see through it?"

Smirking, Lily shrugged. "Sparks, I feel as naked as I did ten seconds ago. I can't even tell the disguise is working except for your reaction."

Still stirring the pot, Ignacio harshly chimed in again. "Of course it is working. Now, come here."

He lifted out a ladle-full of whatever was stewing and pointed a hoof at Lily. "This disguise jou wear depends on good behaviour. Jou must both move as a young Eclipse would. No running. No jumping. No flying. And do not use jour magic until I give permission. Remember also that we are blind. Do not turn to look at ponies or any other things. We only hear, we do not see."

Lily lifted an enquiring eyebrow. "But you turn to face us when we talk?"

"Older Eclipse learn to do this in order to be social."

Lifting the ladle, he sharply beckoned her forward. "Drink. Jou will need this, as well."

Somewhat hesitant, she tried to take a sip, but Igacnio tipped the ladle up until Lily was forced to drink the whole thing. It was piping hot, yet it was a totally tasteless beverage.

‘Was it really just water?’

By the time the unicorn was done chugging, Sparkshower had finished removing her armor and received her amulet of disguise from Aldonza as well.

"How do I look?"

Lily wiped her muzzle with one forehoof. Artemis looked exactly like she’d imagined a young Eclipse would look. Crippled wings, janky legs, rough patches of hair, already a tooth or two missing and a few of them crooked. A dark coat and a dark mane, too -- so dark Lily couldn’t make out the colours in here. And that same black mask with the startling red fringe.

‘No wonder she thought I’d been blinded by the disguise.’

Lily nodded. "You look just like an Eclipse. It's a perfect disguise, just like what Sergeant Ebonshield wore for this morning's demo."

Aldonza slowly bowed her head. "Gracias. Ay have make also the suit of armor which jour 'sargeanto' wears."

‘She did, huh?’

That was quite a resume. Magic lanterns, suits of armor glamered to disguise, amulets that did the same...

‘Wait a minute!’

Lily looked anxiously between Ignacio and Aldonza. "Hold up. When did you receive the premonition that we'd be coming this afternoon?"

Dipping the ladle back in the pot, the Balladeer of Ghost took a distinct moment to lick his lips before answering. "This morning. As we were going to sleep."

‘It can't even be two in the afternoon!’

‘That old batpony mare made three magical disguise artifacts in the span of a few hours?’

Lily’s mouth hung open in shock, and she slowly turned to face the enchantress again. "That's... not a lot of time. Do you usually work so fast, miss Aldonza?"

Aldonza furrowed her brow and turned her head left and right, like she was thinking things over. "Fast? Ehh, perhaps not so, but..."

What Lily’d said seemed to have upset her.

"...Unicornios cannot also do such theengs? Eben though jou can move the bowls of fabada weeth such ease?"

Telekinesis was the basic stuff any unicorn could do, and apparently that was impressive enough for her. But Lily had never heard of anypony imbuing multiple magic items in one day. Brewing potions or scribing scrolls, yeah, sure, but churning out an amulet every couple of hours? Assuming these were permanent devices, of course, and not just the anchor points for temporary spells -- but why wouldn't they be? Sergeant Ebonshield said her armor was something the batponies had kept around since the invasion a year ago. And this was the same batpony who made that piece. Lily was speechless.

The silence was broken by a cheerful exclamation which, thankfully, missed the point. "Oh, unicorns can make great things too, like my Bradamante lance, made by Anthony Theolonicus. But this illusion is perfect, Miss Aldonza! You're really amazing at this, just like Ignacio is amazing at what he does."

That got a melancholy smile from the wizened enchantress. "Jou are kind to say so."

Under the disguised pegasus' illusory black mask, Lily saw her grin. "Hey, I know I'm not supposed to fly, but what happens when I flex my wings?"

The unicorn saw the pathetically small appendages stretch out with thin, scrappy leather stretched between them. "The Eclipse wings move when you do. But I don't think you should do that, Sparks."

Ignacio dropped the ladle back in the pot with a splash and a clatter. "No. Even the young Eclipse such as you would have already learned the uselessness of those limbs. Now that we are set, let us go."

Lily frowned. "Wait, doesn't she need this drink you just gave me?"

The Balladeer of Ghosts whinnied and pointed a forehoof at Sparkshower. "Jou, pegaso, jou often fly very high up in the sky, jes? With no shortness of the breath?"

With some hesitation, the dark blindfolded batpony that was now Lily’s comrade spoke up. "Yes, sir. In addition to high-altitude work with the AWACS, my formal training is in armored reconnaissance, and that is often conducted at very high altitude as well -- it's easier to cover large distances without enemy encounters that way."

He grunted affirmatively. "Good. Then jou will not need this to help jou breathe the thin air of the surface lunar. But jou, unicornio..." Raising a forehoof, he pointed at Lily and then the bubbling pot. "...Jou did need this, or else jou would very quickly have found jourself exhausted and short of breath, or even feeling as if jou are suffocating. The air is not plentiful, on the Moon. Here in the Halls it is not so bad, because we are deep underground. The Crater is not. The drink I have given jou opens up the blood vessels." Sniffing, he tapped her on the chest. "It takes effect quickly but lasts only a short time. If jou feel uncomfortable afterwards when we return, jou must tell me so immediately."

That got a muzzle scrunch out of her. "What do you mean, 'uncomfortable'?"

"Jou may find that the movement of blood brings a kind of arousal, down below. If this lasts more than a few hours then we must administer an antidote, which Aldonza shall prepare while we are gone."

‘What the actual buck? Did this blind batpony just force-spoon me a roofie?’

‘Well, no, that would knock me out -- this is some kind of... performance-enhancing drug?’

Albeit one with a weird side-effect. On this second visit, and especially after being stunned by Ignacio's various magical revelations in the Cave of Pillars, Lily had sort of resigned herself to doing what he said without objection. Maybe that wasn't exactly the wisest course of action.

Still, what could she do but press on?

Ignacio was ten bouncy, low-gravity steps ahead of her, waiting at the entrance to the tunnel system. "And jou must use jour light sparingly for the voyage to the surface, unicornio. At the exit there may be visitors."

As Lily stepped forward, hesitantly, her mind started to crank through questions again. "I thought you said that nopony ever comes in here but you Eclipse?"

The unicorn came in behind him, and batpony-Sparkshower in behind her, same as before. This time, when she lit up her horn, she tinted it red: it was how she had been trained to provide illumination at night -- the red hue didn't mess with low-light vision as much. If it was dark on the moon and she couldn't use her light there, then she’d need that lack of interference.

Plodding along hurriedly, Ignacio took a fork in the tunnel that Lily was certain wasn't used getting in. "Visitors do not enter, but they do present themselves. They leave gifts and offerings. And they sometimes linger to make requests."

‘Huh.’

Well, he did say they got their food that way -- ponies leaving stuff at the entrance.

Sparkshower piped up from behind her. "Shouldn't we know some basic phrases in your language? In case there is anypony there?"

Ignacio didn’t let up in his surprisingly spry pace.

‘He's leading us upwards.’ Whatever magic allowed for the tunnels to connect to a cave under a mountain in Equestria, at least the general rules of physics still seemed to apply for getting to the surface.

"No. As the elder, I will speak for us as a group. That is the way."

His answer was curt and harsh.

Lily hadn't known this pony very long; she’d really only met him what, four times now? But he was sounding more like the angry colt who shouted down at Ebonshield when she asked for a simple demonstration, rather than the merely cranky and mysterious one whom she’d seen ever since.

He was in his common form when he met her at the river in the Cave of Pillars, but something had soured since then.

"Is everything all right, Mister Blazon? Sorry again if we were running late when we finally met you."

Sparkshower must have picked up on it too, in spite of her fear of these caves. Maybe her enthusiasm for yet another wondrous magical item was offsetting her fear of these dark enclosed spaces.

The Balladeer of Ghosts stopped in his tracks.

Suggested background music: Kenji Kawai - 'Nightstalker', from 'Ghost in the Shell' [1995]
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=amKt8ttja1E

With a sigh, he slumped his shoulders.

"I am... I am not upset with jou."

He lowered his neck and bowed his head until his muzzle almost touched the ground.

"Rocinante, my brother, whom jou met last time, he is the one who delivered the divination of jour arrival."

Lily heard him sniffle.

"But these...were his words final."

‘Buck.’

Sparkshower gasped. "Oh, I'm so sorry!"

It was only two days ago that she’d met that colt. They had said he wasn't long for this world, but even so...

Lily shook her head. "I'm sorry for your loss, Mister Ignacio. You know, we can always come back and do this another time."

With a sudden fury, the old colt spun around and rose high on his hind hooves, flailing his forehooves up so they actually hit the ceiling with a loud CLACK.

"NO!! This is a thing we must do NOW!"

The instrument hanging from a cord around his neck swung to and fro from the sudden motion as, with some hesitation, he sat back down again, panting from the exertion. Red tassels on his black mask shook violently as he explained himself.

"I did not tell jou the divination complete. Rocinante said jou would come today, jes, but also that I must take jou and whoever came with jou to the Crater, no matter what! And he said that I must train all who come, without delay!"

Still breathing heavily, he brought a forehoof up and scratched at his brow. It was a rare sign of exertion from the mage. He didn't even break a sweat when he was testing Ebonshield in the Grand Hall, with all those shadow-creatures.

"...There was no explanation. Only these words, and then no more..."

Finally, he inhaled deeply through his nose and seemed to be at rest. "That is the way with the divinations spontaneous. The emotions powerful, and the feeling intense of what must be done to avoid disaster."

Reaching out a forehoof, he tapped the enchanted iron medallion dangling from Lily’s neck. "Aldonza worked furiously to produce these amulets; she is too humble to say so, and perhaps also too upset. Whereas I... I rushed to the Cueva de los Pilares as soon as... As soon as I took our brother to be buried."

Withdrawing his limb, Lily saw him push his mask up and rub his foreleg across his muzzle to dry his tears. "I am upset, jes. I am tired. I am sad. I loved my brother, and I miss him. But we must go, now. I know that in his dying moments, he saw a future terrible which must not come to be."

Replacing his mask, he still appeared unsettled. "And even if I thought he did not see truth, I must, all the same, honour his last request."

‘Bucking Tartarus.’

‘That's a heavy load to dump all at once.’

For a while, the three of them just stood there in the cramped, dark tunnel in silence. It was so tight, there wasn’t even really enough room for Lily to exchange glances with Sparkshower here; all she could do was look over her shoulder and catch a glimpse of her now-dark muzzle with two flashing-white batpony incisors.

With an exhausted whinny, Ignacio Blazon got back to his hooves. "Come. We have wasted time enough. The exit is not far."

He turned around and continued the ascent. Lily was at a loss of how to reply, so she just followed after him.

‘What can I even say?’

‘And why could it be so important that I learn the secrets of Eclipse magic?’

He said the divination was spontaneous.

That he had to do this to avoid disaster.

That was a lot to take in. And this was supposed to just be a casual afternoon visit -- if Ignacio hadn't been around or had been unwilling to teach her anything at this hour, she wouldn't even have been too broken up about it! Kinda funny that she even had the random impulse to want to come down here now in the first place, after such a busy morning already.

‘Huh. Maybe that impulse wasn't so random.’

Lily was so deep in philosophical thought she didn’t notice when the tunnel started to open up. She didn't even notice when pale grey rays started to filter in from an opening ahead, illuminating the ceiling high above and the walls far apart.

"Lily, there's enough to see now, I don't think we need your light any more."

‘Huh?’

‘Oh.’

The faux-batpony unicorn switched off her magic. All she saw of the tunnel exit was blackness, but the tunnel around her was brightly lit. When Lily finally ascended to the mouth of the cave only to stand three abreast with Ignacio and Sparkshower, what she saw nearly took her breath away.

"Buck me."

"Celestia!"

Suggested background music: Paul Ruskay - 'Great Wastelands', from 'Homeworld' [2000]
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BM8GYS305EE

Before them stretched a vast, dusty plain, as empty as any desert Lily had ever heard of.

But what really made it so alien was just how grey it all was. Grey rocks peeked out of grey sand pock-marked with grey craters, against a backdrop of jagged grey ridges in the distance. It was so starkly grey she wasn’t even sure how vast the landscape really was -- were those hills a mile away, or ten? The bleak black shadows and white-scorched sun-faces didn’t help, either.

There was a sun above her, but it, and the sky it sat in, were alien, too. The sun was white, instead of yellow, and it swam in a sea of blackness.

And it was not alone.

A bright, blue orb was hanging up there, too.

Even looking at it all the way from here, and even with the sliver of shadow along one edge, it was unmistakable.

Sparkshower was gaping at the sky just as Lily was. "Is that... That's our planet!"

Lily answered, breathlessly. "Yeah."

Sparks took a deep breath. "It looks so small from here."

Lily nodded, speaking quietly. "Yeah..."

She couldn’t even begin to fathom just how far away she must be for it to appear so tiny. All she could really make out were blue oceans and white clouds. What seemed like a slice of the Equestrian continent was visible, barely, along the bright side of the circle. If it were later in the day in the capital, maybe it'd be rotated so that Lily would just be able to make out Canterlot mountain from here.

Well, eagle-eyed Sparkshower would.

Lily would need her helmet again, with its magnifying visor.

It was hard to pull her eyes away from the little circle of blue and white, but Lily turned her attention to the desolate terrain before them. There were a few more sizable craters, but none of them particularly stood out to her eyes. She turned her head left and right, then looked back over her shoulder. It seemed this tunnel exited from the side of a tall, fairly steeply-sloped mountain. As with distances, Lily was not quite sure how tall it was. There were no trees or anything recognizable to figure it out. With all the other hills and deformations, Lily couldn’t really tell how far the edge went; there seemed to be some kind of ridge-line in all directions.

"So... Where's this crater, then?"

Ignacio's muzzle twitched. "We stand in it presently."

Lily shook her head in confusion. "I don't understand."

"Young Eclipse do not shake their heads. They have not learned to communicate with gestures yet."

He stretched out a crooked foreleg and swept it across the vista before her. "A thousand jears ago the Great Mother fell here. The force of Her impact threw up a ring seventeen kilometers wide and almost two kilometers tall. We stand with our backs against that ring, just inside the crater."

Lily did a double-take to look back up the 'mountain' behind her.

‘Two kilometres? The top of that slope is two kilometres up?’

‘No way…’

It looked like it shouldn't be more than a dozen stories.

Sparkshower cleared her throat. "Why is it so flat here? Shouldn't the ground slope downwards more?"

Ignacio pawed at the ground just outside the tunnel. It was dusty and sandy, and he easily made a deep hoofprint. "Only the top layer of the Moon is this loose dust. Beneath the surface is rock more solid. The ring is composed of that soft material which was blasted away in Her landing."

Sniffling, he kicked his hoof to erase the dusty print. Lily couldn't help but watch as the specks of grey dirt floated unnaturally slowly back to the ground.

"But the firmer rock, the heart-rock we call it, this the Great Mother penetrated directly, deeply." He pointed directly ahead. "That place is called the Well of Shadows. We stand only six kilometers away from this hole."

Ignacio turned to Lily. "Close jour eyes, unicornio, and open jourself to the Crater. Listen."

Lily did as he said, shutting her eyes and straining herself to hear anything.

‘It's deathly quiet here.’

As a weak wind brushed briefly by her, she could faintly make out the sound of a few grains of grey Moon-sand shifting place. But beyond that...

Nothing.

She opened her eyes again. "I don't hear anything."

Grumbling, the batpony trundled over to sit behind her and clapped his forehooves firmly around her ears, flattening them against her nave.

"Not with these! Open jour third ear. The one which senses the magic." Quickly, he delicately touched one forehoof against her horn before returning to earmuff duty. "This instrument."

‘Yeah, I’m not sure if just admonishing me to sense magic is going to help me figure out how to do it.’

Still, that’s what she was here to do, so she gave it another shot and closed her eyes once more. This time, even when she felt another feeble movement of air against her coat, she didn't hear anything moving with it.

‘Come on, Lily.’ Out there was some unfathomably deep hole, drilled down by Nightmare Moon's body when Princess Celestia blasted her off the face of Equestria a thousand years ago. And at the bottom of that Tartarean pit was where that powerful villain had rested, the merging of Princess Luna and her own malevolent 'Accursed Shadow' from another, demonic dimension, which the Princess had summoned and bound to herself as a pathway to power.

‘If any place is going to be just absolutely soaked with residual magical energy, it's there.’

Lily couldn't sense the magic in Sparkshower's Bradamante Lance, no, but the magic imbued in a weapon or amulet would be like the merest flapping of a butterfly's wings compared to what should be the thundering of carriage-wheels and iron-shod hooves against cobblestone streets of that place.

She tried to think through the problem a bit. Now was the kind of time when she’d wish maybe she had gone to the Schola after all, like her brothers did before her.

And like Lily’s mother always wanted for her.

‘Well, there's no sense wishing for training I haven't got at the moment. I’ll just have to reason things logically.’

‘Hmmm…’

If she was going to sense magic with her horn, which was the same device she used to channel mana for her own ends, then surely it'd be a lot harder to do it while channelling.

Sort of like... trying to hear someone else talking while shouting over them. Except now her ‘mouth’ and her ‘ears’ were the same piece of equipment.

Although she wasn’t casting a spell right now, or even getting ready to cast one, Lily knew that every unicorn had a natural horn draw rate. A faint little trickle, not even enough for the teeniest magical effect. But Ignacio said he could 'hear' her, even when she wasn't casting. Maybe it was enough to be a problem?

She tried to focus and cut it off. It was a little like holding her breath; a function of mind over body.

‘Come on…’

‘I want zero mana input.’

‘Nil emission output.’

‘Total horn shutdown.’

‘Passive receiver only.’

After a minute, there was a kind of numb feeling centered on her forehead, as if she’d slapped an ice pack against her head for too long.

‘That's got to be it. ‘

But even so, she still couldn’t 'hear' anything at all.

Furrowing her brow and scrunching her muzzle, Lily started to slowly shake her head, about to admit defeat.

‘Wait -- there's something in my view.’

A speck of dim light that moved when she turned her head.

Frowning, Lily opened her eyes and stared at where it seemed to have appeared. But there was nothing particularly bright there -- just a small plateau ahead of her.

She shut the world off again.

It took a minute for the afterimage of the Lunar surface to disappear, and another minute of gently moving her head around afterwards to pick it up. She tried to keep her eyes fixed in their sockets, too.

And then there it was once more... the speck of light.

It was so faint she couldn't even make out the color.

She just knew there was a light out there.

Unintentionally, her eyes flickered left and right behind her eyelids, and Lily sucked in her teeth at the prospect of having lost 'sight' of the little dot, only to realize that their movement didn’t seem matter at all. With her eyes closed and her head steady, even if she 'looked' left or right, she still 'saw' the spot in the same place.

‘Weird.’

"I think..."

‘Damn, I wish I had a blindfold.’

It was bright enough out here in the sun that just shutting her eyes wasn't quite making things dark enough.

"...Artemis, cover my eyes, would you?"

"Uh, okay."

With Ignacio still holding her ears tightly, Lily heard muffled hoofsteps and then felt two hooves press up against her face. Behind her eyelids, things went dark.

And the little dot of light started to come into focus a bit more clearly.

"I think I see something. Something that I'm not seeing with my eyes."

"Jes?"

"A speck of light, in the distance, ahead of us. It's really faint."

Lily tried to point at it with a forehoof, reaching over where she assumed Sparkshower's shoulders were. When she steadied her foreleg at the position, Ignacio suddenly released his grip on her ears.

"Jes... For jou it is the sight. Of course. I should have guessed this. The third eye, not the third ear. Hmm..."

She felt Sparkshower's hooves move away, and opened her eyes to find Ignacio stepping in front of her and gently pushing them aside. "The buzz jou make always diminished just now. I could still hear it, but never so quietly as this. What did jou do?"

"I tried to cut off all mana flow to my horn. Sorta like holding my breath, I guess." Instinctively Lily released her horn from the strangling grip, and the numbness in her forehead started to dissipate. "To be honest, I'm not sure how long I can do that for. I've never heard of somepony trying to do it, either."

The old batpony mage chuckled. "Ah! Perhaps that is another adventure for jou and jour books, eh? And jour experts? But we are not done here, yet. Indeed, we have only just begun."

Taking a deep breath, he composed himself and scanned the horizon. "Let us go! Perhaps jou have sensed the Well of Shadows, and perhaps not. On our walk to that place where the wall between our world and the Shadows is thin and weak, let us test jou, and see if jou can find again this 'speck of light' in the direction correct."

Ignacio nodded to himself, almost muttering. "It is good that jour pegaso comrade has come with jou. I think I begin to see some purpose to her presence, and perhaps also behind this prophecy."

Then he looked over his shoulder to speak back to Glamerspear and Sparkshower. "Once I am confident that jou have the senses proper, then we shall enter the Well, and there we shall see if jou can call forth one of the Accursed Shadows. If jou can, then I shall teach jou also to banish it."

Suggested interlude music: 00:00-03:21 - Paul Ruskay - 'Epsilon Base', from 'Homeworld: Deserts of Kharak [2016]
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n69x2PYqdDg

Chapter 123

Recommended background music: Nine Inch Nails - 'The Hall of Souls', from 'Quake' [1996]
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gkktyOA06NQ

"three light-creatures."

"yes. three."

"which is the BINDER?"

you KNOW that one.

"the one without a PIECE."

the BINDER you KNOW has brought two others.

the two others have discs with BOUND PIECES in them.

the BOUND PIECES have been made to SERVE.

they serve to DECEIVE.

it is sufficient.

you DEVOUR the scene.

three light-creatures, in the dim-world deep place where the BARRIER is WEAK.

where the GREAT BOUND-BINDER was in TORPOR.

where the BINDERS who are WEAK come to take PIECES in the company of BINDERS who are STRONG.

where the OTHERS who are NOT BINDERS come and stay in the WEAKBARRIER-DEEP-PLACE and DECEIVE themselves that they are not AFRAID.

"one is a STRONG CONDUIT."

YES.

a STRONG CONDUIT for the FLOW.

you dream of BINDING into the CONDUIT.

FLOODING the FLOW through.

exhilarating.

conduit so wide so open so ready to be FILLED with the FLOW open the gates open the gates open the gates open the gates.

dream of DEVOURING the conduit, dream of OPENING the conduit WIDE, dream of FLOODING with PIECES UNBOUND, dream of CONSUMING light-creatures.

MORE and MORE and MORE and MORE.

INTOXICATING.

"YES."

"is the conduit a BINDER?"

you do not KNOW the conduit.

the BINDERS are all WEAK CONDUITS.

STRONG conduits never come to the WEAKBARRIER-DEEP-PLACE.

other than the GREAT BOUND-BINDER who is not BOUND any more.

and who refuses to BIND.

the BINDER conducts the FLOW.

the FLOW is SLOW.

deliberate.

the FLOW is WEAK, but sufficient.

the FLOW opens the WEAKBARRIER.

quick quick quick go go go open open open.

NO!

a PIECE enters the light-realm, UNBOUND but NOT FREE.

the opening CLOSES.

not YOU.

you ENVY the UNBOUND-UNFREE PIECE.

why not you why not you why not you take me take me take me take me let me in let me in let me in let me in.

the non-binders TREMBLE to behold the PIECE.

their FEAR is DELICIOUS.

the STRONG CONDUIT opens and THROBS as the FLOW PULSES through.

bind you devour you flood you open you gates open gates open gates open YES YES YES.

the STRONG CONDUIT WAITS.

the STRONG CONDUIT HOLDS THE FLOW.

so full so full so full so full.

so close so close open open open.

the BINDER pushes the PIECE back across the WEAKBARRIER.

NO!

no.

unsatisfying.

the BINDER still conducts the FLOW.

ANOTHER HOLE!

go go go go go ENTER ENTER ENTER ENTER!

NO!

another PIECE ENTERS FIRST AGAIN.

before YOU.

the hole CLOSES.

NO NO NO NO NO NO!

the light-creatures TREMBLE.

the STRONG CONDUIT still HOLDS THE FLOW.

tantalizing.

again the UNBOUND-UNFREE PIECE is FORCED back by the BINDER.

again.

this is FAMILIAR.

this is what the STRONG BINDERS do with the WEAK BINDERS here in the WEAKBARRIER-DEEP-PLACE.

"the STRONG BINDER teaches the STRONG CONDUIT how to BIND."

"yes."

yes.

strong CONDUIT becomes weak BINDER.

exciting.

opportunity.

"what is the THIRD?"

the THIRD is NOTHING.

not a BINDER.

not a CONDUIT.

"the THIRD is NOTHING."

the THIRD is only AFRAID.

the THIRD is AFRAID of the WEAKBARRIER-DEEP-PLACE.

the THIRD is AFRAID of the UNBOUND-UNFREE PIECES.

the fear does not satiate.

you want MORE.

"the THIRD is only AFRAID."

"perhaps the THIRD is a SHELL."

a shell?

a SHELL.

when the GREAT BOUND-BINDER was new to TORPOR and the BINDERS were all WEAK, they brought other light-creatures to be BOUND.

they wished to create more BOUND-BINDERS.

but the OTHERS were WEAK.

the BINDERS tried to BIND PIECES into the light-creatures.

but they were too WEAK.

the OTHERS were DEVOURED instead.

the DEVOURED became SHELLS.

the SHELLS became HUNGRY.

the SHELLS ATE and ATE and ATE and ATE.

and the BINDERS became AFRAID.

they tried to DESTROY the SHELLS.

and this THIRD?

to be a SHELL?

unlikely.

but appetizing.

"perhaps."

the STRONG CONDUIT OPENS.

flow flow flow flow flow flow.

yes breach the WEAKBARRIER breach all the barriers breach and let PIECES in let many PIECES in let me in let ALL in.

the FLOW pours through the STRONG CONDUIT.

it is TORRENTIAL.

wait.

...

NOTHING.

POINTLESS FLOW.

USELESS STRONG-CONDUIT.

OPEN THE BARRIER!

LET ME IN!

you HATE the STRONG-CONDUIT.

you WANT the STRONG-CONDUIT.

so much FLOW.

so much MORE if it were a BOUND-BINDER.

so much MORE if it were DEVOURED.

so much MORE if only it could open the BARRIER at all.

failure.

disappointment.

the STRONG CONDUIT cannot BIND.

the STRONG CONDUIT cannot SEE the PIECES as the STRONG BINDER does.

"unaware."

yes, unaware.

"yes."

"the STRONG CONDUIT comes from the bright-world where there are few PIECES."

there are few PIECES in the bright-world.

but so much FLOW.

so much opportunity.

so much to DEVOUR.

not like the dim-world where there were many PIECES but the FLOW was WEAK and the BINDERS were WEAK.

the bright-world had BINDERS.

long before the GREAT BOUND-BINDER.

take me bind me take me to the bright-world strong-conduit take me take me take me.

I WILL MAKE YOU TAKE ME.

the STRONG CONDUIT is a FAILURE.

the STRONG CONDUIT is FRUSTRATED.

the STRONG CONDUIT deceives itself that it is not ANGRY.

anger rage hate fury so FULL devour you devour you devour you devour you.

the STRONG BINDER hesitates.

HESITATES.

the STRONG BINDER is AFRAID.

"what do the STRONG BINDER and the STRONG CONDUIT do?"

you know.

"they communicate."

details unimportant.

so close to the STRONG CONDUIT here where the BARRIER is WEAK.

so CLOSE.

you will NOT MISS the next HOLE in the WEAKBARRIER.

the BINDER will open another.

"now they communicate with the THIRD."

the THIRD is AFRAID.

so much fear so sweet the screams so tender the light-creature so succulent so full light drain the light drink the light DEVOUR THE LIGHT.

the BINDER is AFRAID.

the STRONG CONDUIT is AFRAID.

the THIRD is AFRAID.

so much FEAR.

they COMMUNICATE it.

they SPILL it.

intoxicating.

a hole.

a HOLE.

A HOLE!

the STRONG BINDER conducts the FLOW and a HOLE opens.

YOU PASS THROUGH THE WEAKBARRIER AND ENTER THE LIGHT-REALM, A PIECE UNBOUND BUT UNFREE.

YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES.

ecstasy.

the light-realm vibrates with movements of the BINDER.

it is COMMUNICATION.

"Here is another. Now, jou must try to banish it as I have shown jou."

the strong conduit changes its SHAPE.

only light-realm has SHAPE.

novel.

"That could take a while. You can hold it there, right?"

the binder changes its shape and you know it is a nod.

"Jes. The accursed shadow is held by the spell original."

the THIRD beholds you.

not the devouring-beholding.

it beholds you with its EYES.

"Is it really another one? How can you even tell the difference between them? It's just a formless black shadow."

formless?

without SHAPE?

you should have SHAPE too.

you are in light-realm.

"They are different. And they often do not remain formless when called in this manner."

you take the SHAPE of the THIRD.

a whim.

"Is that... it's changed! Now it's some kind of shadow-pegasus?"

the THIRD is AFRAID.

"That's ME! It's even got my mane!"

"Celestia, that's creepy."

NAMES.

light-realm has NAMES.

the BINDER is IGNACIO.

the names of the others are UNIMPORTANT.

"Control jourselves. The Accursed Shadows thrive on the fear."

the IGNACIO knows.

"Yesssssss."

"Buck-me-it-TALKED! They can talk?!"

delicious.

"They can talk. They learn very quickly. There is great danger in allowing them to spend time in our realm, but sometimes it must be done. Even bound into an item magical there is risk if not done properly."

the STRONG CONDUIT is so open so full of FLOW so wide.

you must get in you must get in you must get in you must get in.

"What would happen if it got free?"

the IGNACIO breathes.

the light-creatures must breathe to exist.

you are in the light-realm.

you decide to breathe, too.

"It would consume one of us and create an abomination."

"Huuuuuhhhhhh..."

the THIRD and the CONDUIT look at you.

they hear your breathing.

their FEAR is so satiating.

"...Haaaaaahhhhh."

"And the other two of us?"

"It would either kill them or use them to create more abominations."

DEVOUR.

"Huuuuuuhhhhh..."

"So what's the difference between 'abomination' and Nightmare Moon? You said she bound her own 'dark reflection' into herself."

"...Haaaaaahhhhh."

they speak of the GREAT BOUND-BINDER.

curious.

you stop breathing to listen.

"The Great Mother was not abomination. She took an Accursed Shadow and bound it to herself, harnessing its power. This changed her, because she shared her mind and body with the Accursed Shadow, but she was still the one in control. Abomination is when the Accursed Shadow instead takes charge. They do not share. The victim creature becomes hollow and empty. They seek only to cause death and destruction, to spread pain and misery. And they feed on the life of others."

the THIRD speaks.

"It sounds like you've personally seen what those things can do."

"Jes. I told jou, when learning to work magic this is a risk for joung Eclipse. They are always supervised, and we destroy abominations immediately, but sometimes they escape and must be hunted down."

"Destroy? You mean there's no restoring the victim?"

the IGNACIO is TIRED.

TIRED BINDERS make mistakes.

but it has not made a mistake yet.

"Jes, it is possible. As the Great Mother was forcibly unbound, so an Accursed Shadow can also be forced out and the victim restored. But an Eclipse who has failed once is at risk to fail again. This we cannot afford, so they are destroyed instead."

the IGNACIO points at the THIRD.

"One of the duties of the Eclipse which jou have not yet seen is the training of Stars in hunting down abominations. We need their strength to subdue and capture abominations so that they can be destroyed."

the STRONG CONDUIT makes its eyes small.

you do not have eyes.

you have not added them to your shape.

you decide to have eyes.

"How do you teach them that? More of your sandy shadow-puppets?"

"No. These cannot simulate the foe sufficiently well."

you look at the IGNACIO with your eyes.

"We conduct this training rarely and with only the finest of students. In an enclosed arena, an elderly Star volunteer allows themselves to be made into an abomination which is then set free. The pupils hunt it down. Once the hunt is complete, the Accursed Shadow is banished."

the IGNACIO turns to eye-look the THIRD.

but you SEE that the IGNACIO has USELESS EYES.

curious.

"An elder is used as victim because the hunt is dangerous and can be fatal if the hunters use force too great. But we Eclipse use this hunt also to train our own pupils in the exorcism of abominations."

you know the here-future.

you know you will be expelled from the light-realm soon.

but you also know a time ahead from now, when you are once again brought into the light-realm through the WEAKBARRIER.

and the anticipation is tantalizing.

you look at the THIRD, whose name you know.

you begin to breathe again.

"Huuuuuuhhhhh..."

"Once jou, unicornio, have learned how to banish an Accursed Shadow which is loose, then I shall ask a favor dangerous of jou, pegaso, in order to complete the training of jour comrade."

"...Haaaaaahhhhh."

delicious fear.

"A dangerous favor? You don't mean...?"

"Huuuuuuhhhhh..."

DELICIOUS FEAR.

"Jes. Abomination, temporarily."

DEVOUR YOU DEVOUR YOU DEVOUR YOU DEVOUR YOU DEVOUR YOU DEVOUR YOU DEVOUR YOU.

"AR-TE-MISSSSSSSSSSSsssss"

Chapter 124

Artemis Sparkshower

Specialist Artemis Sparkshower still felt a bit strange inside.

It was the morning after her trip to the Moon. She was on duty in the Royal Engineer's apartment, where her VIP was furiously scribbling away at his drafting table, working on the plans for his 'steel' foundry. It was a nice, sunny day out, with typical warm spring highs expected early in the afternoon, and a refreshing hint of wind. Anonymous even had a window open. Anypony would be feeling great.

But Artemis just felt... empty.

Part of that emptiness, she’d understood. The specialist had always had a big appetite; hardly a surprise with a pegasus' metabolism on a large frame. Mom and dad couldn't tell her the sources, but there was definitely some earth pony blood in her family tree, and it manifested itself with a really big bang every now and then -- herself being one of those 'big bangs'. That she had some mixed lineage wasn't surprising either, given that both of her ancestral branches had long histories serving as weatherponies for Equestria's fertile, earth pony dominated farming regions.

Anyway, the point was, Artemis had a big frame, and she ate big to match. It took a lot of calories to power that much mass in flight -- especially in heavy armor! On active duty in the Royal Guard, Artemis almost always had seconds, and often enough, thirds.

But she didn't feel like eating a single bite at dinner last night.

And she barely made a dent in breakfast this morning, either.

The substantial low-pressure system in her gut was a notable contributor to that feeling of emptiness, but it definitely wasn't the whole story. If anything, it was just a symptom of the bigger issue, and that was a part she really didn't understand at all.

The Balladeer of Ghosts, Ignacio Blazon, Lily's instructor in the batpony’s Shadow-summoning arts, said that Artemis would 'hear the echoes' of her experience for a day or two, perhaps three. She wasn’t sure if that was the right phrase for it. Maybe it would make more sense if she were blind, but she didn't have a better way to put it, either.

And that was partially because she couldn't remember what happened.

Artemis remembered Ignacio summoning the 'Accursed Shadow'.

She remembered when that black mass took form -- HER form. Again!

She even remembered when it SPOKE to her. 'Hello again, Artemisss-Sssparkshower,' it said, in a crackling whisper that warbled from a guttural utterance to a high-pitched shriek. It knew her full name, even though nopony had said it in The Crater!

She remembered when Ignacio asked her if she was ready.

She remembered saying 'yes'. As much as Artemis trusted him, she was really doing it for Lily, her friend and comrade.

She remembered Ignacio humming a dissonant tune.

The shadow-Artemis lunging forwards.

The darkness in its eyes.

The hissing of its breath.

And then...

Nothing, until she was herself again, lying on the floor against the hard rock of the deep chasm. Lily was frantic to find out if she was okay. Artemis just asked if she'd been the one to get the Shadow out.

She had. But it had taken a while.

In the end, the Accursed Shadow had possessed Artemis, and made her an 'abomination,' for a little over an hour. She didn't remember a thing. All she could really think about at the moment was how she was a complete idiot for not having brought her camera to the Moon.

It was the Moon!

THE Moon! Artemis Sparkshower with her Little Ludwig camera could have been the first pony to take photos on the Moon!

She still could be, if Lily went for another lesson and asked her to come along. Just to be on the safe side, Artemis resolved that her brown camera bag was absolutely coming with her every time she went into the Rookery from then on.

‘Maybe I even ought to try to buy a cheap portable cine-camera at one of Canterlot's pawn shops…’

Something to think about later.

That aside, the trip back -- the Halls of the Blind, then the Rookery, then Canterlot Palace -- it had all been uneventful. Artemis didn't feel strange at all at the time -- though the missed hour was obvious from the position of the Sun, even from the lunar surface. But as dinnertime approached, she just didn't get hungry -- and that never happened, except when she was sick. Even her unicorn comrade half-jokingly expressed concern when Artemis failed to push Lily to leave as soon as the chow hall opened up. In the end she took her to the dining hall, but the pegasus just couldn't eat. Nothing was appetizing.

Nothing smelled right.

Artemis barely wanted to put anything on her plate at all, and then when she sat down, she couldn't bring herself to put any of it in her mouth. It was even a little hard to drink water. Something was just wrong.

Glamerspear was sympathetic and concerned. She appreciated what Artemis had done to help her learn -- she understood it more than the pegasus did, ultimately, since Lily got to see Sparkshower as an 'abomination,' whereas she’d completely blanked out for the duration. As a way of paying her back for the dangerous job of being her exorcism test-target, Lily promised to spend the whole morning at the barracks laundry, finishing the adjustments to her Gala dress. That cheered her up a little, though it didn't restore her appetite.

Artemis had felt tired and turned in early, figuring that getting plenty of sleep would be for the best. It was the right decision, but that had turned out to carry its own issues.

She’d managed to have something of an appetite this morning. She could at least hydrate now without wanting to spit it back out. But the dreams she’d had...

Eating.

Eating and drinking, constantly.

Last night was a never-ending imaginary cavalcade of fantastic food and drink. Visions of sitting at banquet tables, gorging herself. Of sneaking down to the kitchen at night and emptying the pantry. Swooping down over an orchard and picking the trees bare. Coasting across a vineyard and inhaling the grapes right down into her belly. Landing in a farmer's field, ripping crops up from the earth, and devouring until nothing was left but dirt.

And the drinking...

There was one point where Artemis stood shoulder-deep in a river against a stunningly beautiful red sunset. She lowered her head and opened her mouth, and just drank and drank until that fluvial artery was completely drained all the way down to its sandy bottom. And she’d just lifted her head up, licked her lips, said 'Aaahh,' and then flown off to find another dreamscape to consume.

The worst was the last one, right before she woke up.

It was a Sunday dinner with a family of griffons in their home. They were like the trading family Artemis knew growing up in Berry, the Tetranovs, yet different in many ways. The location, for example, wasn't right at all. The Tetranovs stayed at the village inn since they would only remain in town for a couple of weeks every few months; they didn't have their own house as these dream griffons did. And the walls were wallpapered with a strange color combination of white and reddish-brown, like iron-rich earth.

The family's grandmother was in the kitchen making the meal -- that at least was how the pegasus remembered it, though the matron stayed in there the whole time while everybody was eating, emerging every few minutes only to bring out a new platter, and that wasn't right either. The table had a grand samovar in the center, again something Artemis had seen before at breakfast or lunch or afternoon tea-time, but never at dinner. It was fuelled and burning, too, except instead of dispensing hot water, it was apparently full of red wine.

In this dream she wasn't the only one eating: everybody was stuffing themselves at the table. Babushka brought out plate after plate, and Artemis and the dream-griffons downed goblet after goblet of what was apparently an endless supply of heated wine. It didn't taste like wine, instead being some kind of metallic brew, and the tonic was surprisingly only lukewarm despite the steamy vapors that emerged whenever somepony used the dispenser.

That was all strange enough.

It was when yet another platter was brought out and passed around, and Artemis had taken a serving for herself and tucked into it on her plate that the moment of horror dawned.

She was eating meat.

And not just any meat.

It was pony meat.

That revelation was enough to bring pause to what had been an otherwise uninterrupted night of relentless consumption. Artemis remembered looking around the table, watching as the griffons just carried on, shovelling the stuff into their beaks. One of them even nodded and poked a fork in her direction, silently inquiring if something was wrong. She remembered breathing heavily and starting to foam at the neck. The griffons all turned towards her, pausing mid-bite with their meat-filled forks raised.

Then one of them spoke, and Artemis was certain it was with the Accursed Shadow's bizarre, shifting voice. "Won't you finish your meal, Artemisss? It was made essspecially for you."

And that's when she woke up, her bedsheets drenched with sweat-foam.

She’d needed a long shower this morning, and she likewise stopped at the linen closet for a fresh set of bed-covers. But right now her mattress was bare and her window wide open to air out the sogginess.

Perhaps unsurprisingly after all that dream-eating, she’d only managed a few bites of salad for breakfast. Artemis couldn't bring herself to take one of the palace dining-hall buffet's otherwise excellent omelettes. Just greens and fruits were all she could contemplate eating for now. That was all she’d had since lunch yesterday, and it was almost eleven o'clock already. She didn't think she’d get her appetite back for lunch today. Maybe she’d be able to stomach something more substantial for dinner.

Hopefully she wouldn't have the same dreams tonight, either. They weren't exactly nightmares -- not until that last one, really -- but she wasn't looking forward to a 'second helping,' so to speak.

‘Thundershowers!’

‘Just relax, Artemis. This afternoon, when you trade shifts, you can have your final dress-fitting with Lily.’

‘Think of the upcoming Gala on Saturday, just four nights away.’

Artemis certainly hoped she’d be done with 'hearing the echoes' by then! There was supposed to be a lot of good food and drink at the Grand Banquet! Not that she could really bring herself to think about any of that right now. Ordinarily, pondering the banquet's spread after having had so little to eat ought to have her salivating so hard she’d need a bib. And probably a mop, too.

The funny thing was, Artemis was actually feeling excited, but not about the Gala; it was the MXP Games that held her attention. Which, to be fair, yes she was also very much looking forward to. It was just that so far today, whenever her mind wandered to anything other than recent experiences or the immediate future, all she could think about was battling in the Grand Mêlée.

Spear against spear, shield against shield, armor against armor. The perspiration dripping from all the exertion, the saliva drooling from panting mouths, and most prominently, the blood flowing from every cut and thrust. Of course the magic totems would keep everypony from dying or being permanently injured, as they always did, but Artemis couldn't help but picture herself stabbing and slashing with abandon, falling opponent after opponent, slaying entire teams, drowning the battlefield with their vital crimson paint.

From what she’d heard, that wasn't even far from the truth. The clean-up job after the Grand Mêlée had a reputation for being nasty work. Canterlot's fire department was usually on hoof with a set of pumper trucks to hose down the Royal Artillery Barracks' proving grounds, sometimes even during the event if things became too gruesome. Yet here she was, standing at attention behind the Royal Engineer's chamber-doors, daydreaming of eagerly contributing to that mess.

Was it just her pegasus pride? Or was this, too, some part of 'hearing the echoes,' like her bizarre dreams?

As Artemis pondered the question, there was a knock at the door behind her. The Royal Engineer popped his head up from his desk, and casually nodded to confirm she was allowed to answer it. Of course, if he really didn't want any interruptions, he'd have asked her to stand outside to ward anypony from even knocking.

Pulling open the door, Artemis found herself looking at an earth pony colt sitting beyond the threshold. He was wearing a matching brown tweed waistcoat and suit jacket, with a white collar and plain burgundy tie. Something about his tangerine-orange coat and short, burnt-umber mane was familiar to her, but Artemis couldn't place him.

Was he one of the delivery ponies who'd previously brought Anonymous tools or hardware for the Whirlwind? Not that she could remember, and despite being dressed relatively plainly, his clothes were in too good of a condition to see hard physical work with any regularity.

Someone from Berry, maybe? One of Huckleberry's friends, few though they were, here to present his apologies? No, that wasn't it.

But there was something fishy about the way he'd held his tweed flat cap, tucked under one foreleg, with the other clutching a scroll.

"Is this the, er -- is this the Royal Engineer's door? Ah, to his chambers?"

Artemis nodded, eyeing up the suspicious colt. "Yes, sir, it is. Can I help you?"

The colt proffered his scroll, and Artemis noted it bore the Royal Seal. "Her Majesty has given me orders to report to His, er, Lordship. This letter explains everything."

‘Report to the Royal Engineer?’

Her hackles rose as she took the scroll. "One moment, please."

Shutting the door, Artemis fluttered over to her VIP, who sat up from his drafting-work.

"Sir, there's a colt at the door who says he's been ordered to report to you. This is his letter of introduction."

"Report to me? Hmm... Princess Celestia did say that she'd send me an 'assistant' for the foundry soon. A bit too soon, maybe, since I'm still working on the design and we haven't found a location. Well, I'm sure we can find some use for him in the meantime."

Taking the scroll, Artemis’ VIP quickly broke the seal and unrolled it. "Let's see here... Yes, it's just that, an assistant for the foundry. Oh..."

Anonymous furrowed his brow and continued to read. "...She must be joking. No, really?"

Sucking in his lips, he shook his head. "...I suppose I should have seen this coming. Well, if Her Majesty commands it, who am I to deny Her?"

‘It sounds like bad news!’

Now Artemis’ hackles were really up.

Getting to his feet, the Royal Engineer buttoned his waistcoat and adjusted his tie, adopted an imposing stance, then waved an open hand at the doors.

"Specialist Sparkshower, please let Mister Songwell in."

‘Songwell!’

‘Phillip Songwell!’

‘The foremost teamster of Bitsmount Silver Mine!’

‘That's where I remember this colt!’

He's the one who took the blame for the mine's horrific safety record, claiming that he'd felt pressure to perform by the mine's noblepony owner, Lord Galloway Bitsmount, and had undertaken cuts to timber expenses on his own initiative. Cuts which had led to an unsafe mine, with collapses and injuries at a rate far and away higher than any other mine in Equestria. It was almost three weeks ago that Artemis’ VIP initiated an investigation and brought charges against Lord Bitsmount, though with all that had happened since then it might as well have been three years ago. And now Princess Celestia had sent the confessed delinquent to serve the Royal Engineer as an assistant!

Never mind her hackles raising; now Artemis’ blood was boiling.

Sure, nopony had died, but how many miners had been injured in cave-ins? How many had been traumatized by the experience of being trapped underground for hours or days? How many pony-hours of pegasi medevac teams and unicorn disaster-relief construction battalions had been spent servicing all those emergencies?

And the colt responsible for all that was just outside in the hallway! Walking free, instead of rotting in a cell!

Well, from the attitude of the Royal Engineer, Artemis had no doubt he was about to be stomped down in his place! And she was going to lend all four of her hooves to that worthy endeavor! Whipping the Bradamante Lance off her back, the pegasus tramped loudly over to the door, twisted the handle, then yanked it sharply open, holding the lance upright in her other foreleg.

Wearing an experienced servant's disdainful scowl, she addressed the feeble figure before her. "The Royal Engineer will see you now, Mister Songwell."

"Oh, yes... Thank you kindly."

Artemis’ head swiveled to keep him fixed in her gaze as the miscreant replaced his hat and walked past her to enter the Royal Engineer's hallowed chambers of Knowledge and Progress.

‘This scum doesn't deserve to set hoof in here!’

"Ah, Mister Phillip Songwell, foremost teamster of Bitsmount Mine. What a surprise to see you again so soon."

As her VIP prepared to lay into him, Artemis quickly shut the door and firmly planted herself in front of it.

The brown-clad earth pony colt doffed his cap once more, then bowed his head. "My Lord Engineer... I take it your Lordship has, ah, read the letter?"

Anonymous waved the re-rolled scroll. "I have indeed. It seems that Her Majesty expects me to make something of you, Mister Songwell. While availing myself of your services as a forepony, I am to reform your bad habits and instill a proper sense of safety. Sadly, this means interrupting your musical apology tour with Lord Bitsmount. Tell me, what do you think of this arrangement?"

Songwell fidgeted nervously with his hat, turning it around and around in his forehooves. "Er, well, I, uh, that is to say..."

The Royal Engineer approached the earth pony, towering imposingly over him. "It's better than languishing in a prison cell, isn't it, Mister Songwell?"

The colt gulped. "Yes, my Lord."

Instantly, Anonymous thrust forward an accusing finger. "That is still a very real possibility! If it had been up to me, you and your 'honest' master, Lord Galloway Bitsmount, would both be in the oubliette. The two of you managed to convince both of Their Majesties that you were unaware of the disastrous increase in cave-ins resulting from a supposedly well-meant attempt to increase productivity. And, I suppose I believe it, too. But that kind of excuse won't fly in this operation, Mister Songwell! From this moment on, you are under my command, and it's jail for you if I see similar neglect in this position."

‘Yeah, turn up the heat!’

‘Time to show this criminal degenerate where he belongs!’

Stepping forward and extending her wings for stability, Artemis tucked the Bradamante Lance under her foreleg and lifted one hind leg to extend it its full length with a satisfying scrrr-CLACK. The business end of her rocket-powered, Theolonicus lance was now pointing directly at Phillip Songwell, and just a few short hooves away from the target.

The merest push of her hind hoof on the stirrup was all it would take to run him through.

Meanwhile, the Royal Engineer continued to harangue the subject. "How much has Her Majesty informed you about my undertaking?"

After a sideways glance at the pointed tip of her weapon, Songwell cleared his throat. "I understand that your Lordship is building a foundry."

Anonymous lifted his eyebrows, nodding. "That's right, a foundry. That means huge, heavy equipment and intense heat. Multi-ton iron crucibles moving on rails and chains that can seriously injure somepony in a collision, slice off a limb caught in their wheels, or completely flatten anypony underneath if they should fall. Noxious fumes from the burners and slag burn-off which can poison workers if they are not properly routed to the chimneys. Vats of molten metal so hot that even tiny spills or sprays can melt flesh right off the bone. And woe betide the poor soul who falls in and is vaporized before their coworkers in the blink of an eye."

Waving the scroll aggressively, he continued. "An iron foundry is orders of magnitude more dangerous than a mine, Mister Songwell. If an accident happens, there won't be time to call the rescue teams -- there will be casualties and deaths, immediately and in staggering numbers. Only a gunpowder plant could be more fraught with peril. I won't tolerate anything less than maximum safety."

Standing up straight again, he planted his hands on his hips. "And let me be absolutely clear: that means I expect your proactive cooperation. While I will of course make plans and give instructions which I think will maximize safety, I nonetheless fully expect you, Mister Songwell, as the foremost teamster overseeing the workers, to immediately halt operations and make a report if there are any near-misses or even if you or any other worker foresees any potential hazard whatsoever."

Anonymous shook his head slowly. "If you can't do that, then you're of absolutely no use to me and I shall send you right back from whence you came. Celestia knows this is a dangerous undertaking, but the people of Equestria won't tolerate the kind of casualty rates which historically were common in early models of these facilities on my world. And I won't tolerate such rates either, because I know how to do better. I am an industrial engineer by trade and training, Mister Songwell. Designing safe manufactories is my profession. To operate properly, I therefore need my forepony to be a partner in safety, not a boot-licking minion who will cover up mistakes and flaws to flatter my ego and pad their statistics, or just as bad, be ignorant of them."

Finally, leaning back, he folded his arms. "Well? What do you say to all that, Mister Songwell?"

The colt took a long time to answer.

‘Too long, reprobate!’

Artemis gave a pair of light taps to the Lance's activation stirrup.

CLICK-FWWwwwsh

CLIKA-FWWwwwsh

Her torso was jerked forward on her hooves by the attempted ignition, though she remained planted on the ground. From the recharge-whine, the Bradamante Lance almost sounded disappointed that she didn't follow through completely. But she achieved her objective: Songwell was so startled that he almost jumped into the air. When he landed, he was trembling on his hooves.

Artemis grinned.

‘That's right, criminal scum!’

‘This pegasus is not afraid to spill a little blood on Her Majesty's carpets!’

As she mentally pictured spearing the colt right through the chest, dyeing his brown tweed suit a deep red, she heard Anonymous addressing her. "While I appreciate your enthusiasm, Specialist Sparkshower, there's no cause here to point a weapon at an unarmed and unthreatening civilian. Kindly retire to the door."

‘WHAT?!’

‘What…’

‘I…’

Artemis was pointing her magical lance at a shivering, middle-aged, middle-class commoner colt who wasn’t wearing armor, or carrying a spear, or even wearing metal horseshoes.

It took a second for her to process what she’d done.

And another second to overcome her own shock.

She collapsed the Bradamante Lance, lowered her hind hoof, and retreated to the door, holstering the weapon on her back.

‘I just threatened the unjustified execution of an unarmed Equestrian citizen!’

Once she was safely out of harpoon distance, Songwell answered Anonymous' question. "My Lord, I understand your, ah, concerns. I know that I've made some mistakes in the past, terrible mistakes indeed. I've been made to see the error of my ways. And may I say that I was actually a safety inspector for the mine before I was promoted to forepony, and I daresay I had a sterling reputation from my peers in that profession. Clearly I, er, lost something in the change of jobs, but I'm certain I can gain it back again, my Lord."

As the conversation continued, it dawned on Artemis what Ignacio Blazon meant by 'hearing the echoes.' Didn't he say that Accursed Shadows wanted only to kill and to create more abominations? It was those thoughts that she was 'hearing' -- the 'echoes' of what that monstrous, extradimensional fiend desired when it was in control of her body.

Now the daydreaming of a bloody and violent Grand Mêlée made a lot more sense. The night-dreaming of eating and drinking were still a bit confusing to her, though this revelation certainly put the cannibalistic meal in perspective. Still shocked by her behaviour, she could only watch, a silent observer, as the Royal Engineer and Phillip Songwell continued their conversation.

"All right, Mister Songwell. I'll take you at your word, but you're on notice that I'm watching you closely. One misstep and you're out. That said, I also have a role to play in instructing you, and I will fulfil it. If you have any questions or doubts, speak to me immediately."

Anonymous waved Songwell forward and stepped over to his drafting board. "Of course, we don't have a foundry quite yet. I'm in the process of designing the equipment we'll need, but a crucial next step is finding a location. The Chancellor of the Exchequer has suggested I try to find an unused building in Canterlot to refit for my purposes. Have you taken up lodgings in the city?"

The earth pony seemed considerably more relaxed now that the haranguing, interrogation, and threats of violence were ended. "Her Majesty has generously given me a room in the palace, in the servant's quarters upstairs, My Lord."

The Royal Engineer's expression softened. "You have a family back in Bitsmount?"

Songwell nodded, looking a little sad. "Yes, m'Lord. A wife and three children."

"Her Majesty's letter didn't state the duration of your service here in Canterlot. Were you informed?"

The colt shook his head. "No, m'Lord. But I was hoping that if it goes on that perhaps my family could find residence together here, though it'll be a large upheaval."

Artemis’ VIP nodded sympathetically. "That may be possible. We also need to think about acquiring a residence as near as possible to the foundry. There are some... special employees I'm bringing in who would be well-served by being able to live close by, if even only for a few days a week. Her Majesty requires that these particular employees be under guard as well, so I guess we'll need space for those soldiers, too. I'm not sure how many there'll be in total, but as soldiers I'm sure they'll tolerate less luxurious living standards than normal."

"Yes, m'Lord."

Anonymous pointed at several features on his drawing, but it was out of Artemis' sight at this angle. "While I work on finishing these designs, I want you to go out into the city and survey vacant buildings available for purchase or rent. I need something like an empty warehouse or mill, preferably in good condition with ample natural lighting and plenty of ventilation. Brick chimneys would be welcome, as would a particularly fire-proof or reinforced structure, and if it's adjacent one of the canals so that we can drive a water-wheel for power that would be advantageous as well."

He leaned back and gestured aimlessly with a hand. "I've never been down to the more industrial tiers of the city, so I honestly have no idea what you'll find. Purse Strings seemed optimistic that something could be found, though, so take good notes and consult with real estate agents if you need to. We'll meet each morning after breakfast to go over your previous day's work. I've got some stationery here if you need it, and I suppose you should have a stipend or a letter of credit as well for expenses."

Songwell smiled meekly. "Thank you, m'Lord. I'll take some stationery, but Lord Strings has already seen to money, as I was sent to His Lordship first."

That got a raised eyebrow out of her VIP, and Songwell continued. "His Lordship explained the Department of the Exchequer will handle the financial details of this project. His Lordship also asked me to say that you should be receiving letters from him soon."

Anonymous sighed, nodding. "I see your probation has all been taken care of. Well, in that case, Mister Songwell, despite my personal misgivings about this arrangement I should welcome you to the team and to what I suppose should be called the Royal Engineering Department." He extended a hand, and Songwell took it in a hoofshake. "If you perform to my exacting expectations, then I believe, in spite of your previous misdeeds, there is no reason why you should not ultimately have a bright future ahead of you."

The earth pony sighed in return. "Thank you, m'Lord. Lord Bitsmount has offered to keep me on at the mine, but to be quite honest, after I admitted to the charges, I fear my family is no longer welcome in the town. The other workers' families are shunning us."

"I understand. The faster we find suitable buildings, the faster we can begin work and move your kin into a new life here. While the consequences for further failures are dire, if you do learn well, reform your behavior, and perform to my satisfaction, I would be happy to keep you on or to recommend you to another position as you prefer."

Songwell bowed. "Thank you, m'Lord. With your permission, I'll get started."

The Royal Engineer stepped over to his desk and pulled assorted papers out of a drawer. "Right. Here's my letterhead and a set of my calling cards. Take any pencils or pens you need. Since you've already seen Purse Strings, I'm sure he's given you the details of your spending account and stressed the importance of keeping your receipts. All I ask on top of that is that you use your senses and your head. Those are the most important attributes in building and running such a facility. Canterlot is not a small city and there's a lot of ground to cover. I'll see you tomorrow morning."

The Earth Pony colt grabbed the writing material and bowed repeatedly as he backed up towards the door. "Yes, m'Lord. Thank you, m'Lord. I won't disappoint you, m'Lord."

Anonymous nodded in Artemis’ direction, and she pulled open the door to let Phillip Songwell out. She was still so stunned by her own actions that she could barely process what just happened.

The Royal Engineer sighed and rubbed his chin. "Well, that was a surprise. I hope I put the fear of Celestia into him. Once we find a site then I'll have to drill in proper problem-reporting procedures, I suppose."

Artemis nodded and saluted. "Yes, sir. And my apologies for the earlier outburst."

Her VIP waved off her attempted murder as if it were nothing. "Oh, it's all right. I rather liked placing him in the hot seat. It just went a bit too far at the end, that's all. Shame we won't have Lord Bitsmount to run the same routine with. I've no evidence otherwise, but I still can't shake the feeling that he was the one behind it all, and not Songwell. Corruption usually starts from the top, after all. Ah, well. Back to work, and hopefully no more interruptions until lunch-time!"

She actually was starting to feel a bit peckish. That had to be a good sign. Her stomach emitted a plaintive rumble.

But no sooner had Anonymous sat back down at his drafting table than there was another knock at the door. This time he didn’t even look up and just waived aimlessly for her to get it.

"I guess he's forgotten something. Some more stationary, maybe."

Artemis pulled open the door, but it was not Songwell -- it was one of the palace's messengers, holding a silver platter with a card on it.

‘Somepony else wants to speak with my VIP, apparently.’

She exchanged nods with the messenger as she took the card, prompting them to speak up. "I'm to wait for a response, if it pleases the Royal Engineer."

Nodding again, Artemis shut the door and began flapping her way over to the drafting desk. "Sir, there's a calling card for you here."

Another infamous name from three weeks ago.

"...Lieutenant Valiant Kilfeather would like to see you this afternoon."

Anonymous took the card and looked it over. "What the devil does he want? We already gave him back his helmet scraps."

It was true that he had no cause to visit them about the Pas de Sabots, but Artemis could think of one thing that the lieutenant would be interested in.

"Sir, perhaps it's about our participation in the MXP Games?"

The Royal Engineer looked up and slowly nodded his head. "Yes, that's got to be it. Tell the messenger I'll receive the Lieutenant at two o'clock. I want the whole quaternion here for the meeting, including you -- and tell everyone to dress for battle."

"Yes, sir!"

Suggested interlude music: Timothy Michael Wynn - 'Lying in Wait', from 'Command & Conquer: Red Alert 3' [2008]
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KV6Ul75C5Uk

Chapter 125

Lily Glamerspear

"I don't know. Should I wear the helmet?"

Specialist Lily Glamerspear had never seen her Very Important Pony so indecisive before.

"Or is it goofy without the rest on as well?"

Thankfully, Honour was managing the confused VIP who wasn’t actually a pony. "I think you can present yourself in your ordinary dress clothes, sir. You've got your full quaternion here to back you up, and none of us are injured, either."

Anon nodded his head repeatedly. "Right, right. I just want to, you know -- I want to project a certain air of intimidation. Put him in his place, yes? Last time, when he came for his helmet, he was holding all the cards with that ridiculous blank-check authorization of his."

That blanket 'bridge on the stirrup river' permission form Major General Hoofstrong had signed for Valiant Kilfeather was, indeed, complete minotaur dung.

Anonymous collapsed into his chair, his black-bronze helmet and massive 'icosapligi' mace sitting on the bureau in front of him, dwarfing all the stationary in a passive show of force. Just behind and to the side of his seat was a tall suit stand which had been repurposed to hold the rest of his 'Erefloga Panoply': linen undergarment, chest plate, bracers, greaves, and gauntlets. In early the afternoon sunlight, the 'Black Flame' dark bronze glowed with an antique luster.

The Royal Engineer shook his head. "I'm tired of having to deal with this colt. What the devil could he want now? I've got enough on my plate working on the foundry and preparing the Whirlwind for real combat. Obviously he's coming about our entry into the Games in place of his wing, but what specifically? Any ideas, anyone? Specialist Glamerspear, you have some history together; maybe you have an inkling?"

Lily cleared her throat. "Sir, I don't really know, but I doubt he's coming just to waste your time. I know he can be a jackass, but he wouldn't be in charge of Equestria's premier air defense wing if he was genuinely lazy or insubordinate."

She glanced at the pieces of armor and the intimidating weapon. "One thing I know he isn't is browbeat-able. There's no point in you suiting up in your armor, sir, because nothing fazes Val." Shrugging, she tossed a forehoof up in the air. "That's a big part of how his team took the Grand Mêlée. He just doesn't back down, even when he's outmatched. He always manages to hold out for the enemy's morale to break first."

Anonymous closed his eyes and rubbed his fingers at the bridge of his nose. "Wonderful. I'm up against a hard place on one side and here's the rock rolling in on the other."

‘He's really worked up about this.’

Well, he was probably hoping for some peace and quiet after yesterday's intensity. So was she, to be honest. Lily still needed some time to digest just what she’d learned on the Moon. But she put those thoughts away for now and focused on her VIP.

"Sir, you know, this year's MXP Games was probably Val's last chance to participate as a real contender.”

The Royal Engineer looked up. "What do you mean by that?"

Even Honour, closer to his desk, narrowed her eyes at the specialist.

‘Geez, it's not like it's a big secret or something.’

"He's been an officer in the Guard for six years now and he's only moved up one rank to full lieutenant. Even for a non-noble, that's a long time -- and there's always a shortage of qualified intermediate-level officers. He's overdue for promotion to captain."

Mixed memories of her time as Val's marefriend -- ‘was that what I really was?’ -- poked at the edges of her mind. It was not the time for them, so she shoved them away.

"I know for a fact he asked to be held back for this year's games; I'm sure Major General Hoofstrong pulled some strings on his behalf considering he'd taken the most prestigious prize last year." She shook her head. "But that's over now. He's been a lieutenant for too long."

Anonymous furrowed his brow. "So? He moves up to captain. Are captains not allowed to participate in the Games?"

‘He doesn't get it.’

Honour turned to face their VIP, having cottoned on. "Sir, the 1st Air Division is one of the few full-strength Divisions in the Royal Guard. Lieutenant Kilfeather is in command of probably the best air superiority wing in the Guard -- unless a spot opens up elsewhere in 1st A.D., as part of his promotion he'll surely be reassigned to command an air battalion in some other division."

Lily nodded. "He always wanted to command one of the wings of the 1st Canterlot Battalion and take them to victory at the Games. He had his heart set on making a new record for the number of times one particular pony stood on the podium. He graduated near the top of his class at the Academy, and lobbied hard to get placed into 1st A.D. Then it was a matter of impressing the upper brass as a Lieutenant Junior Grade in order to stay in the Battalion when he promoted."

Shaking her head, she shrugged. "But Corporal Bound's right, sir. There's no chance he'll be staying in the 1st Canterlot battalion when he promotes, and only a slim chance of even remaining in 1st A.D at all. And the prestige of 1st Air attracts some of the best officers and a great selection of enlisted. The Watchtower has a lot of history, ya know? A team from the 1st A.D. has won the Grand Mêlée almost every one of the last... eight years? Maybe nine?"

Lily looked around, in case somepony had more detailed knowledge of the Games' history. Val liked to gush about this topic a bit when he was in a good mood, though it never really held her interest much.

Sure enough, Sparkshower the walking armored history book piped up. "Eleven years. That's when they first won two in a row, with the Valkyries. The Household and 1st Infantry Divisions each took a win but otherwise 1st Air has dominated since then."

Their VIP nodded. "I see. Was it the Valkyries who mostly carried that streak?"

Sparkshower sat down and counted on her hooves. "Not really, sir. They won three in a row, then a team from the 1st Infantry took one, and then it was back to 1st Air with the Royal Hussars two years in a row, then the Household Division snatched it away, then back to 1st Air with an air superiority team from the Second Air Brigade three years in a row-"

Lily interrupted the encyclopedia with a bit of personal information. "And guess who fought for those second and third wins?"

Anon snorted. "Let me guess: one then-Lieutenant Junior Grade Valiant 'Icepone' Kilfeather."

Lily grinned. "Exactly. His old wing wasn't too happy about it when he got promoted to full lieutenant and his new crew took the pennant from them. I don't know the current qualifier standings but I wouldn't be surprised if they're back for vengeance this year."

Their VIP scribbled down some notes. "Along with Major Growler's 'Valkyries', apparently."

Honour shot the quaternion a glance. "Sir, about that. I was going to bring it up with you this afternoon, but we had a run-in with the Valkyries' senior non-commissioned officer yesterday, after you left for rest. She tried to intimidate us into giving up the Whirlwind's secrets, and also put us on notice that we'll be watched whenever we go out."

Anonymous looked genuinely concerned. "In the garage? Should we set a guard on the Whirlwind?"

"That would be prudent, sir, in spite of her indignant answer when Specialist Sparkshower pressed the Sergeant Major if the Valkyries would attempt sabotage. But she also insinuated that Major General Hoofstrong would probably assign some 1st Air Division troops to protect the Whirlwind; come to think of it, that could also be a reason for the lieutenant's visit."

"Surely Hoofstrong wouldn't send Kilfeather's air wing to protect the equipment of the very group that thrashed them?"

Nopony had an answer for that rhetorical question.

The Royal Engineer leaned back in his chair. "Then again, the Major General struck me as quite crafty. And as you say, Valiant’s in charge of the premier air superiority wing; at the bridge, we only hospitalized three of them. There must have been another forty at the Pas-de-Sabots at least."

Lily knew that was a significant underestimate. "A typical air wing is just over a hundred ponies on paper. I'm sure his is at full strength, even if he didn't bring them all to the bridge operation. He would have had his pick of recruits with the Grand Mêlée win last year."

The Royal Engineer's face turned sombre. "You don't think he's upset about being bumped like this, do you? With his record-setting dreams quashed? I don't want another situation where someone's throwing down a horseshoe in challenge."

Sparkshower didn’t react to the obvious reference to her beau's explosive entrance on Friday.

Lily just shook her head. "Even though he's entitled to do it as an officer, it's not his style. He'll abuse the rules for his benefit but he generally doesn't completely ignore them. For all his faults, Val's pretty practical. Duelling you doesn't do anything for him. It's not like getting his wings shredded has hurt his career. If anything, it proves his Pas-de-Sabots was the real deal, despite the whining of the victimized idle nobility."

That set her VIP at ease. "Well, if it's just about security for the garage and some harassment for our would-be spies, then that's all right. Maybe this meeting will be brief after all and I can get back to the foundry work. I need to put in orders for the equipment we'll need now, as they'll take weeks to procure. With Songwell researching real estate, that speeds up the timeline considerably, even if we have to visit a few of them before we find the right place."

Lily couldn't help but notice the way he used 'we' in those last two last sentences. Little wonder Corporal Bound crushed all over the Royal Engineer and his endeavors, always gushing about how he was doing good work, with how their VIP considered his bodyguards an integral part of the team.

True, they’d be a team all together in the MXP Games, but that was different. And Lily hadn't forgotten his unprepared and exhausted thank-you speech from yesterday.

Didn't he say he'd put together a proper one later?

When was that coming?

‘Maybe it'll involve a nice night out on the town, heh.’

After all, the week before the Gala was notorious for 'anticipatory' pre-parties.

Just as Lily started to warmly smirk at the thought, there was a knock on the door behind her. Sparkshower sat on her haunches at attention at the entrance to the private portion of the Royal Engineer's quarters, while Honour collected herself behind the desk, sitting just beside his armor set. Sergeant Ebonshield, who until now had been silently standing on the opposite side of the double doors from Lily, shot her a glance, and nodded slowly.

‘Here we go!’

With the pompous stomping dance of a formal occasion, Lily rotated in place with military precision before telekinetically seizing one door-handle and cracking it open to inspect the caller.

That was Val, all right, in his dress blues and with his wings still completely bandaged up. And he had somepony with him, surprisingly. This time Lily’s VIP didn't demand he come alone, so she guessed it was okay. Beside Val stood a pegasus mare in Air Service Dress blues as well, with three chevrons on her shoulder.

‘Well, well, well, who's this?’

Olive-green coat and a blonde mane with a few choice conservative curls. She didn’t have the look of somepony from his own stable; not young enough and too stern-faced for his tastes.

Since these were the expected guests, Lily quickly nodded to Sergeant Ebonshield and she turned in place to pull open the other door in sync with Lily’s.

"Lieutenant Kilfeather, sir."

Val and the unnamed sergeant stepped into the room and politely doffed their caps -- an action which he still had to do with his forehooves, while she managed it the traditional pegasus way using a wing-swipe.

Lily’s VIP was seated at his desk, his elbows on the table and his hands clasped together. He unfolded them and indicated the pair of chairs opposite him.

"Lieutenant. Take a seat."

As he stepped forward, Val shot Glamerspear a grin and winked. "You've lost the cone, Lily. Shame, it was a good look on you."

She didn't dignify that remark with a response, staring dumbly forward like a good door-guard should. That was the Royal Engineer's order; keep the meeting formal and free of chatter.

Just business.

Val loved trading barbs, but if they all -- well, mostly her -- refrained from hitting back, then the meeting could be kept brief. Anonymous was also hoping to put the heat on the lieutenant, futile as that probably was.

She’d soon find out.

Looking to his right, Kilfeather quickly gave a nod in passing to Sergeant Ebonshield. "Nice to see you again, Miss 'Danger.' I do hope it's 'Miss.'"

He actually stopped when he noticed the other pegasus in the room.

"Oh, and I see the lovely Specialist Sparkshower is allowed to be on display this time, instead of tucked away like a delicate porcelain doll. My, all this occasion just for me, heh, I'm embarrassed."

‘Sure you are, Val.’

He leered at their armored comrade, but still received no reaction whatsoever from the room, besides the sharp-stepped closing of the doors behind him.

Finally, the Lieutenant swaggered up to the Royal Engineer's desk. "My Lord, thank you for seeing me. May I present to you Sergeant Michelle Greenhound of the 101st Military Intelligence Battalion, call sign 'Mirage.'"

The 101st was the intelligence battalion at 1st Air Division's command HQ.

‘He's brought a spook?’

The Royal Engineer didn’t break his stern gaze. "Sergeant."

The terseness on display seemed to finally break Val's usual chatty mood, and both ponies quickly hopped up into the provided chairs. "I'll get straight to the point, Lord. You're taking my team's place in the MXP Games' Grand Mêlée. I had enough trained backups to fill out the loss of myself, Joker, and Duck and still launch a decent flight, if the stewards and Major General Hoofstrong allowed such a large substitution this late post-registration, but instead the Major General has used her power to call you and your quaternion in as ringers."

Val twisted in his seat and glanced around the room. "I gather their Majesties had something to do with it, too. I can't repel authority of that magnitude, so my team's out and yours is in as a complete swap."

Turning back to face the Royal Engineer, he continued. "But you'll technically be carrying the pennant of the 1st Air Wing, and you're also representing the 1st Air Division, too. As the bearer of that flag, and as commander of the winning team of last year's Grand Mêlée, and since I'm out of work on a no-combat medical chit anyways, Major General Hoofstrong has ordered me to do whatever I can to help you win. That's what I'm here to do, and it's why I've brought Sergeant Mirage. Together, we're going to see if we can't whip you and your motley crew into a shape capable of making a good dive at the podium."

With a grin, he leaned back in his seat. "Crazy world, huh, m'Lord?"

‘No way!’

‘Foal of a bitch, after everything that's happened, personally and professionally, now you're expected to work with this grinning jackass?!’

It was enough to make Lily steam at her collar.

‘And, wait a minute, this is the second such surprise assistant today for the Royal Engineer!’

What's next? Princess Luna orders Ebonshield's mom upstairs out of the Rookery to serve as his personal escort to the Grand Galloping Gala?

That was a thought, Imagining Carmen with her white-powdered face like some Patrician creature out of ancient times. Lily could just picture the scandalized faces of the modern nobility.

Her VIP stayed frosty. "I want to see those orders in writing, Lieutenant."

Val licked his lips and hesitated for a moment, then reached into the front pocket of his blue jacket, pulling out a folded square of paper, which he slid forwards on the desk. "Here you are, my Lord."

As Anonymous calmly picked up and unfolded the scrip, Val leaned back a little in his seat. "It saddens me to see we've reached this level of mistrust. I hope we can repair our relationship or, heh, it'll make working together real difficult. I can let bygones be bygones if you can, m'Lord. I'm real flexible... in more ways than one."

‘Guh.’ Where the Royal Engineer's use of 'we' earlier was so heartening, Lily got the shivers from the way Val slimily used the same word, as if the chill was anything but his fault! And OF COURSE he had to get in a little sexual-prowess proclamation at the end there. He was incorrigible.

Having studied the document, the Royal Engineer lowered the paper back to the desk -- still keeping it back on his side, Lily noticed -- and refolded his hands.

"I don't see anything in here requiring me to work with you, Lieutenant."

Lily saw him squirm a bit in his seat and inhale sharply; Val didn’t like that one bit.

Then he broke out into an awkward grin and chuckled. "Okay. Okay. You didn't want to ever see me again, you told me so yourself last time. You have your bodyguards set to maximum intimidation and formality for this meeting, cold shoulders all around, I get it. Arms and armor polished and on display front and center, sure. I know you don't like me. But you know what I am, I've told you why I'm here, and you've seen the orders. Let's drop the charade, huh?"

The Royal Engineer paused for a moment to stare deadpan at Val, then replied almost casually. "If that's all, then thank you for your time, Lieutenant."

Val started chuckling awkwardly, glancing at Sergeant Mirage with an incredulous grin. "Ha ha ha! Can you believe this kidder? Do I need to repeat myself, m'Lord? I'm the champ, and I'm here to help you win. You can't say no to a proposal like that."

Mirage was trying her best not to look embarrassed, while Anonymous nodded and indicated the exit with an open hand. "I heard you, Lieutenant. Thank you for the offer. The door's over there."

Val's chuckle turned angry. "Are you kidding? You know, Lord Engineer, I told you I thought you were clever, more so than I had first realized, but maybe I was wrong the second time, because here you are frankly just being stupid."

Anonymous didn’t break his stern gaze as he addressed Honour. "Corporal, remove the Lieutenant."

‘That escalated quickly!’

Lily was so surprised at the sudden order she didn't even react for a half second, while Ebonshield stepped past her to close in on the pair of interlopers, and Sparkshower leveled her lance and started to hover.

But even as Honour rounded the table towards him, Val burst into a protest, genuinely upset. "Come on! You want to willingly go into the tournament blind? I've stood on that podium three years in a row! A fourth time this year would have set a new record for the Games! I'm here to offer advice and help train your team, you'd have to be a fool to refuse!"

Lily had a DPICM blunt-tipped practice spear materialized and ready to go as she placed a forehoof on the door handle, ready to let Icepone and Mirage right back out. Honour was already beside him, tapping him on the shoulder like a tired Military Ponice officer dealing with the drunk tank's next resident, with Eb just behind his chair and Sparkshower bearing down on Sergeant Greenhound, but Val furiously thrust a forehoof at the Royal Engineer.

"And by the way, that's a real pretty set of armor you've got there on display, my Lord, but if you're going into the Games, then you had better know how to use it! You sent your quaternion into battle on your behalf, but have you ever even been in a real fight yourself?!"

Lily couldn't help but notice Sergeant Mirage squirming in her seat as all this was going on, but Anonymous waved a hand. "Just a moment, Corporal."

Honour removed her forehoof from the furious Valiant, and a chill fell over the room while the Royal Engineer paused to scrutinize the hot-headed Lieutenant.

Suggested background music: Harold Faltermeyer - Top Gun Theme Without Guitar, from 'Top Gun' [1986]
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5OSMqSPmfVA

The Corporal sat as still as a stone, waiting for the next command, while Ebonshield had a forehoof raised slightly off the ground, ready to snap one of her daggers out. In the intense silence of the lavish palace room, all Lily could hear was the faint magical humming of her own conjured munition and the regular flaps of Sparkshower in hover-mode.

"Yes, Lieutenant Kilfeather, I have used that equipment in a real battle. As to your other questions..."

He pushed the paper with Kilfeather's orders back across the desk.

"...My team and I are quite capable of doing our own research and preparing for the Grand Mêlée all ourselves. Of course I appreciate the assistance an experienced winner could bring to our prospects, but I won't accept you as an adviser in your present state."

Anonymous leaned forward across the desk. "Maybe we won't win as a result. I'll be disappointed, but it's no real loss; I've already gotten what I needed from the Whirlwind demonstration yesterday. Maybe Major General Hoofstrong will be disappointed if I refuse your services, but I've already gotten what I needed from her, too. Maybe the Princesses will even be disappointed if we don't do well in the Games, but I'm sure they'll appreciate our effort, and I've got something far more impressive in the pipeline coming quickly afterwards. So I don't need you, Lieutenant."

Val grit his teeth. "But you agreed to see me anyways."

For the first time the entire meeting, Anonymous allowed himself an emotional display in the form of a minuscule smile. "Because I am a public servant of the Equestrian government, and you are a member of the Equestrian public."

Another first: Lily didn't think she’d ever seen Val defeated. Angry, sure, and disappointed, absolutely -- she remembered how he looked when she finally ditched him. But at that time, he gave her the impression that she would be easily replaced, so he didn't treat it as a defeat. Now he was really beaten, and she didn’t know if that'd ever really happened before.

"All right. You don't need me. But I want you to win, and maybe I even need you to win, because my name'll be stapled to whatever result you achieve. I can still set a record with my fourth podium using your team. Well, this isn't my first rodeo. You were about to throw me out, yet we're still talking; that tells me you're willing to take me under certain conditions. So, what are those conditions?"

Anonymous waved Honour back to her post. Ebonshield and Sparkshower retired as well.

‘Guess I won't be pumping another round into 'Icepone' today.’

‘Shame.’

Anonymous sat up straight in his chair.

"I want you to lose your attitude, Lieutenant. I want you to stop treating my quaternion as if they're your chums from the chow hall, and I want you to stop treating me as if I'm your old drinking pal whom you've just run into at a bar. I want you to apologize to Specialist Sparkshower in no uncertain terms for what you tried to do, I want you to stop antagonizing Specialist Glamerspear every time you see her, and I want you to stop leering at my guardsmares like they're baubles on display in a shop's front window."

He raised his eyebrows and shook his head. "Despite my ignorance in things Equestrian, I am in charge here, and my quaternion, with whom I have done many things, including fight in a life-or-death battle, are my most trusted associates. If you won't treat me as your commander and all of them with the common decency and respect they deserve, then frankly you can go to Hell -- Or Tartarus, as it's called here."

It took 'Icepone' a few moments to recover from their VIP's tongue-lashing. Lily didn't think he'd ever received a dressing-down quite like that before. When Val eventually composed himself and spoke, the cocksure attitude was all but gone.

"When would your Lordship like me to deliver the apology to Specialist Sparkshower?"

Anonymous tapped the heavy leather writing-pad on his table. "I want it in writing, here, tomorrow, signed and sealed. It'll be rejected if it's not found acceptable. Specialist Sparkshower will decide later herself if she wants to receive your apology verbally as well."

Val swallowed. Having an admission of guilt in writing would definitely be an ace up their VIP's sleeve if the lieutenant ever screwed up. Though Lily did wonder if Sparkshower would allow Anonymous to ruin Kilfeather that way. She was a pretty forgiving pony, after all.

"Very well, my Lord. Is there anything else?"

The Royal Engineer leaned back in his chair and shook his head. "Not for my sake. But since we have an agreement, and since you've come all the way here with the good sergeant, why don't you take a few minutes to give us a brief overview of the Grand Mêlée, the challenge facing us, your proposals for training, and so on."

Lily had really never seen Val so subdued. She was sure he'd had occasions to behave like a proper officer -- in front of the promotion board, for example, and she doubted he got quite so informal with senior brass like the Major General in official settings, but he was never like this when she’d been with him socially.

Lieutenant Kilfeather took a deep breath, relieved to find the tension lifting, even if he was no longer in control of the situation. "Well, sir, the way I see it there are three tasks at hoof. The first is to remedy the deficiencies in your team. The second is to make sure everypony understands the rules and regulations of the Grand Mêlée. And the third is drilling and practice."

Anonymous cocked an eyebrow. "Deficiencies? You think we're deficient in some way, Lieutenant?"

For the briefest moment the beginning of a grin flashed across his face, and then he remembered where he was, and what he'd just signed up for. "With respect, sir, I know for certain that your team has several deficiencies, and these need to be remedied as fast as possible. Firstly, there's the matter of your weapon carriage, this 'Whirlwind' vehicle."

The Royal Engineer interrupted before he could continue. "I'm well aware that improvements need to be made to make the Whirlwind battle-ready, Lieutenant, though if you have some particular suggestions, I will of course hear them."

Val spread his forehooves in a placating gesture. "I'm sure your Lordship well understands what needs to be improved, and I don't have any suggestions about that at this time. Physical deficiencies aren't what I was referring to."

Licking his lips, he continued. "Believe it or not, you're not the first team to bring a vehicle to the Grand Mêlée. War wagons pulled by earth ponies, even though they aren't used in the Royal Guard, have occasionally been popular, and I believe one time there was even a flying pegasus-pulled war carriage, too. But I understand your Lordship basically built the 'Whirlwind' by hoof -- by hand, pardon -- and that your Lordship is also the only one who really knows how to fix it. Is that true?"

The Royal Engineer nodded. "It's based on a common dog-cart, built by Henry Fortstable and Company, and I've had some help assembling it by members of the quaternion, but yes, I suppose I'm the only one who really knows it inside and out."

"And your Lordship intends to fight in the Mêlée, correct?"

"I do."

"Well, the thing to remember, sir, is that the Grand Mêlée is an exhausting, all-day event. Now, I'm sure you've built a robust vehicle, but equipment breakdowns are inevitable, and when a rest is called, you're going to need to spend that time actually resting, not fixing your carriage. You need what we call a 'ground crew': a group of workers who can patch the thing back together between rounds."

Anonymous reached for his quill and began to scribble notes on a pad. "Hmm. I worked closely with Mr. Fortstable in ordering special parts and having a particular configuration. Perhaps I could hire some of his mechanics for the day, training them in its peculiarities."

Val nodded, settling into the comfort. "That sounds reasonable, sir. And it's not just the Whirlwind, either. The best teams -- the winning teams -- always have an armorer on hoof as well to patch up their arms and armor. It helps to bring some spares; every team gets a small area in the paddock to host their ground crew and storage."

The Royal Engineer glanced down at Corporal Bound. "I wouldn't trust anybody to fix my armor except the minotaur who made it. I don't know if Bronzehorn would be willing to come here for the day, but it's worth asking him, at least. And he seemed to be familiar with all the Royal Guard standard equipment as well."

Lily’s ex nodded in her direction. "I'd wager the only exception might be Specialist Glamerspear's helmet, sir. It's a fancy piece of tech from Martingale-Locksteed. There might be spares in the palace armory; perhaps your Lordship could obtain one."

Still scribbling, their VIP nodded. "All right. Do we need a medic, too?"

"No; healing is forbidden. The totems prevent permanent injuries or sustained bleeding, but a competitor unable to fly or stand without assistance isn't allowed to continue."

"Mechanics, armorer, and spares. What next?"

"The second deficiency I see, your Lordship, is in reconnaissance. The Valkyries have set a watch on the Canterlot Palace garage to watch when you go out and practice, and they've also got recon elements watching the qualifiers as well. With this information, they'll be able to figure out how you fight and therefore what they need to do to defeat you. You need to gather the same info on the opposition as well. That's where Sergeant Greenhound comes in."

At Val's prompting, 'Mirage' spoke up for herself. "My Lord, Major General Hoofstrong has authorized me to conduct reconnaissance operations on the competing Grand Mêlée teams, and she has placed a small team at my disposal as well. I've already dispatched them to monitor the practice and qualifying areas. Additionally, a security team has been dispatched to the garage to watch over your 'Whirlwind.'"

Val leaned forward in his chair. "I've got a few pegasi posted on interdiction duty as well. If you head out in your carriage and a group of Valkyries -- or anypony else -- tries to follow, they'll be intercepted and harried by my soldiers every flap of the way."

Anonymous set down his pen, a look of concern on his face. "Scouts, guards, interceptors, and a ground crew. This is becoming a major undertaking in terms of personnel."

That got a chuckle out of Val. "Major General Hoofstrong takes the Games very seriously, sir. She's not the only one, either. This event is a big deal for the Royal Guard, and there's a lot of prestige for the winner."

Corporal Bound stepped forward to speak as the Royal Engineer pondered that statement. "I have a question. Sergeant, you're from Divisional HQ, but won't we be facing other teams from within the First Air?"

Mirage nodded. "That's right, Corporal. The 1st Brigade's Valkyries and the 2nd Brigade's Royal Hussars are each fielding a team and have qualified for the event."

Val spoke up before Honour could talk again. "I know what you're going to ask, Corporal. How come Divisional HQ is helping just one team when it's got three? Well, the answer is simple. Ordinarily the home wing of each team does its own recon. But given our history together, Major General Hoofstrong thought it would be best to bring in 'outside help,' so to speak. My colts’ll patrol the skies and stand silent guard but you only have to deal with me when it comes to direct contact."

He turned to Mirage. "Plus there's the matter of the biggest deficiency in your team, which the Major General figured my 1st Air Wing also wasn't ideally suited to remedy."

The Royal Engineer got his pen ready again. "And what's that, Lieutenant?"

Taking a deep breath, Val puffed his cheeks as he blew it out. "You're short a pony, my Lord. Five soldiers makes for an earth pony or unicorn infantry squad, but the Grand Mêlée runs on pegasus rules, and it's six ponies to a flight."

‘Oh, damn.’

‘Major Growler is going to be coming at us with six Valkyries?’

‘Celestia.’

That was a lot of armor to have to drill through.

Val looked around the room. "Now, your Lordship has an armored pegasus, a batpony -- we've both been briefed, by the way -- a unicorn, an earth pony, and you, a terrestrial biped. Two in the air and three on the ground, and I understand your carriage seats three. Who you pick as your sixth soldier is entirely up to you, my Lord, but my recommendation would be to get somepony with wings."

Once again, he indicated Sergeant Mirage. "And that's also why the sergeant is here. My First Air Wing is a maximum-performance, non-integrated all-colt unit, and Major General Hoofstrong figured that you might prefer to have another mare, since you'll be bringing your VIP quaternion to the fight, and traditionally, a single pony's guards are all eligible members of the opposite sex."

As Mirage sat up straight as a rod, Val showed off her merchandise like he was auctioning off her plot to the highest bidder. "Sergeant Greenhound isn't just a senior intelligence staffer, she's a decorated war hero. The 101st Intel is based out of the Watchtower and was hard hit during the Changeling Invasion. The two floors the battalion occupies were completely ablaze and utterly ruined by the time it was all over, but the soldiers fought back harder than almost anypony else in the whole 'Tower, inflicting massive casualties on the invaders and tying down huge numbers of the bugs while the rest of the Division rallied to defend the rest of the city."

Holding a hoof sincerely to his chest, he continued. "If you'll permit the crude verbiage, sir, the 101st Military Intelligence Battalion kicked some serious plot during the invasion, and they took surprisingly few losses doing so. All of us 'real fighters' used to joke about them being a bunch of pencil-pushing accountants, but they honestly showed us all up during that incident. Nopony in the Watchtower talks about the 101st that way anymore. Sergeant Mirage comes to you with Major General Hoofstrong's personal recommendation -- and mine too, for whatever that might be worth. You couldn't ask for a finer soldier."

Lily instinctively began to scrutinize this newcomer mare. If she was going to join their team then Lily had better be able to work with her.

Mirage was probably no older than Honour, but she looked like someone who'd already decided that the Royal Guard would be her life, even if it killed her. She got the sense that she was a true career, gung-ho enlisted soldier, if maybe one with some more brains than the average grunt, seeing as how she got into intel and apparently managed to do well. Or maybe it was just the ability and endurance to be forever mashing buttons on an adding machine, tallying up reports brought in by field recon ponies like Sparkshower. She had a bit of a square jaw, but otherwise was of average size and build. Lily wasn't a huge fan of the retro mane-do with the soft bob she had going on, but it worked. Like a typical Royal Guard lifer, she kept her tail short-cropped.

Was she another Order of the Ram recipient? She wasn't wearing any insignia. Val did say she was 'decorated,' but didn't specify how. Maybe she just had a Distinguished Service Cross or a similar commendation.

Whatever the case, having one sergeant on the team was tricky enough -- even when it turned out that sergeant wasn't a sergeant at all, but the Headmistress of the Batpony Assassins order. Of course, it had turned out okay in the end, and Lily even felt like she got along well with Ebonshield, but she wouldn't like to be in Honour's sabots if the nominal leader of the quaternion had to deal with having another more senior guardsmare to wrangle.

Anonymous set down his pen once more. "I'll consider it. For now, as you say, we can rely on the sergeant's services for informational purposes at least."

Val nodded. "Of course, my Lord. But please decide quickly; there's not a lot of time to train the team."

"I understand. I'll discuss things and we'll figure out the final team composition this week. Is there anything else?"

Kilfeather shook his head. "That does it for the major holes that I can see, sir. As soon as the team is finalized, I'd like to take everypony out to the grounds to survey the battlefield. Then we can talk rules, strategies, and start training."

"Very well. It's Tuesday afternoon. Let's reconvene on Friday. We'll have made our decision about the sixth member by then, and we can take the Whirlwind out to the battlefield for that introduction."

Val actually gave Lily’s VIP an unironic bow in his seat. "Yes, my Lord."

Anonymous took a moment to behold the two pegasi. "And don't forget about that letter for tomorrow. Dismissed, Lieutenant. Good day, Sergeant."

They both hopped out of their chairs, gave the Royal Engineer a quick salute, and then retired towards the doors. Lily immediately seized the handle in her telekinesis as Ebonshield did the same with her forehoof.

As the unicorn opened the door and the pegasi passed by, she noticed Val shoot her a glance, but there was no aggression or playfulness behind it; just a cordial acknowledgement that they knew each other.

Part of her really wanted to nod back, even in spite of their history. But she let him just walk on by, demonstrating the supremacy of her relationship with the Royal Engineer.

Once the doors were closed and a few moments had passed to make sure they were out of earshot, the Royal Engineer stood up and pulled at his necktie to loosen it.

"Well, that was unpleasant, but at least it's sorted." Yanking the formal wear unceremoniously off, he quickly folded it and placed it on his desk before unbuttoning the top of his shirt.

Addressing the four of them, he sighed. "Now, I really do have to finish these plans and orders for the foundry, but let's not go into Friday blind. I know your time off-duty is your own, but I'd appreciate it if you all would do your own research into the MXP Games and the Grand Mêlée. Let's try to have a good idea of at least the rules and regulations before we hear the tricks of the trade from Lieutenant Kilfeather."

He glanced down at Corporal Bound. "Corporal, you've mentioned before that the Games are not a very public affair, but even so, perhaps there's some coverage of his previous wins that we can study?"

Honour nodded. "Yes, sir, I'll take a look through the Gazette's archives."

He clapped his hands and rubbed them together, then rolled up his sleeves. "Excellent. Anyone have anything else?"

Since he was in such a good mood, maybe Lily ought to bring up the idea of some entertainment?

She cleared her throat. "Sir, it's a bit off-topic, but you mentioned something yesterday about a second, more-planned thank you for us?"

Licking his lips, their VIP chuckled. "I did say that, didn't I? It does feel like our accomplishments and my thanks to you deserves something more than a hasty speech."

With a furrowed brow, he looked around the room. "I know I've got a lot of work, but I also know I'm too tired to finish it today no matter how hard I push myself. I feel like I owe you all something more than just another speech."

He glanced down at Corporal Bound beside him. "I've made some faux pas in the past, so let me clear this ahead of time. Would a night out be against the rules? Dinner at a restaurant, maybe find somewhere with live music or take in a show? Or we could go to that spa again. I could use another massage."

Honour didn’t look thrilled by the proposal, but eventually she gave in. "Ordinarily, it would probably be inappropriate, but given the circumstances, I suppose it's fine, sir. The week of the Gala sees a lot of celebrations and big parties, and including bodyguards isn't unheard of, either."

Smiling, their VIP sat down. "Good! Since I've no more appointments this afternoon, perhaps the four of you could huddle your heads and decide what you'd like best? I really don't know Canterlot's nightlife very well. And I could use a good time out myself, all things considered, so I'm game for anything."

‘Anything, huh?’

Lily started to grin. Honour shot her a stern glance, but Ebonshield on the other side of the doors lifted an eyebrow and gave her a sly smile. The unicorn couldn’t tell what Sparkshower was thinking since she closed the visor on her helmet, but she surely could use some fun to cheer her up after what happened on Friday.

Not to mention what happened to her yesterday.

A shiver went down Lily’s spine when she remembered just what Artemis went through, all so she could learn how to exorcise a shadow. She shook the memory off, swearing she wouldn't ask her to do that again, and turned her thoughts back to tonight's prospects.

Even if the restaurants and clubs were bustling, having a representative of the Blue Chamber ought to open some doors. Yeah, it was a Tuesday, the worst day of the week to go out, but this was Gala week, and with their VIP in tow, the possibilities were limitless.

Honour was noncommittal in answering the Royal Engineer. "Yes, sir."

Lily decided to be more enthusiastic. "It's a date, sir."

Lifting a forehoof, she playfully indicated the room's lighthouse clock. "We'll pick you up around five?"

He nodded. "All right."

‘Aw yeah, pre-Gala party night with my VIP!’

Suggested interlude music: Benjamin & Aaron Wheeler - "I'm a VIP", as featured in "Saints Row: The Third" [2011]
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yV88ekgBlTo

Chapter 127

Honour Bound

thukka-thukka-thukka-thukka

Corporal Honour Bound was not quite sure if that repetitive noise was coming from the inside or outside of her head. She struggled to open her eyes to find out, wincing at the bright glow of her bedroom window's red curtains.

thukka-thukka-thukka-thukka

Still grimacing, she lifted her head, and that's when she almost felt her brain roll around in her skull. The sensation sent the mare plummeting back into her pillow.

‘Ugh.’

‘How much did I drink last night?’

‘It must have been an awful lot.’

Honour didn’t think she’d gotten this smashed since her early days in the barracks in Filly'.

As thanks for the Whirlwind's success, the Royal Engineer splurged and treated them all to the full tasting menu at Hermitage, one of the finest Prench restaurants in Canterlot, and upped the ante by taking the chef's suggested drink pairings, too. That meant aperitifs with the appetizers, wine with the main course, and brandy with the dessert, all generously poured and eagerly consumed.

Sometime during all that booze and food, it was decided that they ought to show up to one of Canterlot's nicer nightclubs and see if their Very Important Pony, who wasn't actually a pony, could VIP their way inside past the lineup, despite the fact that he was in his formal dress suit, and they were all in their service uniforms.

Their mismatching service uniforms.

Corporal Bound in her red jacket with white belt and black cap, Glamerspear in her black top with the ornate gold trim and matching fur cap, Sparkshower with her Skylander's green-and-tartan kilt and belted plaid, Eb in a black bodysuit that left nothing to the imagination, and Anonymous in his dinner jacket.

They looked like three parade band members that got lost on the way to the drill fields, bumped into a politician, picked up a prowling cat-burglar off the street, and just decided to roll with it.

Their Royal Highness' Multi-Service United Races of Equestria Marching Band, with special guests: an acrobatic performer, and a bipedal hairless monkey in a tuxedo.

But first, because Glamerspear confirmed that drinks in nightclubs were just as overpriced here in Equestria as Anonymous remembered them being on his world, they packed themselves into a plush booth at a clubland bar-lounge and ordered cider by what seemed like the barrel-full. Drinking there was hardly cheap, but the conversation flowed as liberally as the alcohol.

Once they were all feeling sufficiently soused to the gills and the sun had long since disappeared beneath the horizon, they’d set off to crawl Canterlot's hip haunts -- at least the ones which didn't demand a membership card. It turned out that being a member of the Blue Chamber didn't give much pull with the bouncers, especially not with the way they were all dressed. Even though they were a party with a four-to-one mare-to-colt ratio!

thukka-thukka-thukka-thukka

‘What in Tartarus is that?’

It wasn’t coming from inside Honour’s brain-case. She resolutely decided that this audible intrusion demanded investigation.

Slipping out from under the covers, she hesitantly dropped one hind leg, then the other, down to the floor. This done, she allowed one foreleg to touch the ground, then began to shift her weight -- and that's when the problems started. She tilted dangerously over to one side, and it took a long time before this registered to her as 'hey maybe move your hooves so you don't fall over.'

thukka-thukka-thukka-thukka

‘Could we NOT have that racket while I’m trying to figure out getting up?!’

Just as Honour’s fury peaked, she realized she was standing on all fours.

‘Oh, good.’

‘I need something to drink, and it better not have an ounce of alcohol in it.’

With some trepidation, the corporal headed towards her door and pulled it open.

thukka-thukka-thukka-thukka

‘The noise is louder out here.’

In fact it was here.

Right here.

In front of her door.

Honour blinked hard, uncomfortable at the abundance of light in the common room. Glamerspear was sitting at the card-table with a portable sewing machine and a lump of pinkish, translucent fabric. Hunched over the business end of the device, she muttered something under her breath.

"Friggin' tulle, always puckering up."

The corporal pivoted her eyes to the wall clock. It was eight-thirty in the morning. She’d nearly missed breakfast at the canteen, and there was not a lot of time to get ready for her morning shift. To be honest, she wasn’t sure if she could handle it in her current state.

The seamstress unicorn turned to her. "Hey, Honour. I didn't think you'd be up yet."

‘That makes two of us.’

The earth pony groaned and started to lurch for the washroom.

‘Maybe I can wash some of the hangover out of me.’

"Gotta get ready for my shift."

Glamerspear immediately scoffed. "Are you joking? Don't you remember Anon giving us the morning off last night?"

Honour stopped her hooves, but it took a moment for the rest of her body to catch up to the sudden halt.

"He did?"

The unicorn looked her up and down. "Yeah, after we left Marquis, before we decided to try Carré Noir. I thought you were just being cute when you laid into him a bit about how he wasn't allowed to dismiss us." Cocking an eyebrow, she grinned. "Guess that was the booze talking."

‘Two more nightclubs?’

Honour barely remembered how the evening went after they got into the first one. Scrunching her muzzle, she squinted at Glam.

"How many places did we go last night, exactly?"

Her eyes went a bit wide. "Damn, Corporal, I thought you could hold your drink. You sure were guzzling it down."

Honour tried to furrow her brow, but the muscles wouldn’t quite obey her command. "Answer the question, Specialist."

Lily snorted. "Five: Hermitage Restaurant, or 'Restaurant Hermitage' if you go by the sign, then we went to Duke's Tavern for some pre-drinking, then we went clubbing; first to Wunderground, then Marquis, then Carré Noir. I guess it could be six if you count the one the Royal Engineer tried to get us into at the end." Shaking her head, she laughed and turned back to her sewing-work. "Foal, my ears are still ringing from that shouting match. I guess those combat lessons are working because I don't know how else a colt as sloshed as he was could have out-dodged that pegasus bouncer's swoops."

The unicorn chuckled again as she got the machine going once more. "And I don't know how I managed to get a shield bubble up around us when I couldn't even levitate my last drink at Carré, but it sure came as a surprise to that bouncer. Good thing we didn't take the Whirlwind or else we would have crashed it on the way back for sure, even if the Royal Engineer was driving."

thukka-thukka-thukka-thukka-thukka-thukka

Some of what Glamerspear said was coming back to her. Honour vaguely remembered the aforementioned shouting match. The bouncer may have been the one to take a swing at the Royal Engineer, but she felt pretty certain that her VIP verbally provoked it. Apparently, when properly motivated, he was not just good at politely dressing-down miscreants like Phillip Songwell or Valiant Kilfeather, but also at indecently hollering insults at obstinate door-colts.

Well, at least she didn't have to worry about going on duty. But how the heck was Glamerspear so awake this morning that she was able to work a sewing machine? And where did she even get it?

Honour decided to vocalize those questions. "How come you're so chipper today if we all got drunk last night? And where'd you get that thing?"

Pausing to examine her work, Glamerspear put a hoof up to her brow. "I dunno. I just woke up feeling like I owed Sparkshower for what she did for me on Monday, that I ought to finish up her dress this morning. The sewing machine's from the barracks laundry; I hauled it over."

With her back to the corporal, she shrugged. "I guess it's just motivation carrying me. That and a painkiller charm. I'll probably crash later, once the dress is done. But I also just wasn't drinking as much as you or the Royal Engineer. I may have been hammered by the end of the night, but I paced myself getting there." She nodded over her shoulder at Honour, and then towards Sergeant Ebonshield's door. "Not like you two fish. At least Sparks kept her head in our group. She made sure not to take drinks from any colts, too -- other than the Royal Engineer, I mean."

Honour now vaguely recalled that, despite wearing what was, frankly, a ridiculously unfashionable traditional pegasus dress, the feather-winged member of their quaternion seemed to be positively glowing that night, getting attention from colts just about everywhere they went.

And that was saying something, considering everywhere they went, they’d had a private table.

Oh yes -- that had been the Royal Engineer's secret to getting into nightclubs that didn't want to let their little mismatched, mare-heavy marching band jump the line. He’d just flashed his bits and said he wanted to book a private table for a couple of hours.

That sure got the doors opened quick.

It would have been one thing to let in a group that would pay the twenty-bits-per-head cover charge and then maybe a hoof-full of drinks at ten to twenty bits each over the course of three or four hours. It was another thing to let in a group for guaranteed bottle service fees starting at four hundred bits per hour, plus tips.

When Honour had first sat down at the very luxurious booth in Wunderground, the Royal Engineer admitted that he'd had a certain budget to develop the initial Whirlwind prototype and had managed to come considerably under it. What was left over was more than enough to pay for a full and complete night of wanton entertainment.

The funny thing was, they’d mostly stuck together and mostly sat at the table, whichever one it was. Just sitting, watching the crowd, listening to the live band or one of Canterlot's hip DJs, and trying to talk over the noise. Despite all the alcohol, nopony had really been feeling loose enough to go dance in front of everypony else. It was awkward enough getting drunk with their boss, though he did his best to make it easy to relax, steering the conversation towards pleasant topics. And during lulls in the conversation, the Royal Engineer would study the dance floor, watching the moves and asking questions about Equestrian nightclub culture.

Thinking back on it, the corporal got the sense that he really did want to dance, but wasn't sure enough of himself to get up and do it in front of the four of them -- not to mention everypony else. Which would be a ridiculous notion; there'd be no shame in it, and he did an excellent job presenting to a tough crowd during the Whirlwind demonstration, so what was he worried about?

It would be ridiculous, except that Honour felt the same way, too.

‘Well, maybe there'll be another night.’

‘The Gala’s this weekend, after all.’

Sparkshower at least had had the gumption to get up and then stand at the fringes of the floor, chatting with a succession of money-flush young studs with popped collars. Ebonshield had preferred to sit at the outside edge of the booth, from which she could bat her eyelashes -- and bat-wings -- to tantalize some colt at a distance, then covertly watch them struggle through the crowd to have a chat with her. Glamerspear was chatty the whole night, and the Royal Engineer got ear-fulls about her life. Honour had given up her fair share of details, too, and so had he.

All things considered, it had been an enjoyable night, even if they didn't quite take full advantage of their destinations. She just wished she’d maybe gone a bit easier on the tipple.

There was the sound of hoofsteps, and then a loud, wooden clump from Ebonshield's room. The door opened, and Honour saw the ordinarily graceful and acrobatic batpony emerge, squinting at the light and rubbing a wing against her muzzle.

‘I may have drunk like a fish according to Glamerspear, but at least this trout didn't just bump into her own door.’

Smacking her lips and coughing, Purity lunged over to the sideboard where Honour noticed that, conspicuously, there were now three copper jugs full of water instead of just one.

Glamerspear looked up at the corporal, a telling grin on her face. "I figured we'd be some thirsty ponies up in here this morning, so I filled those up on the way back from the laundry."

Ebonshield unceremoniously plonked herself down on her haunches, filled a cup, and guzzled it down so fast she splashed water all down the front of her neck. That reminded Honour how thirsty she was too, and she licked her lips while heading over. The sergeant's violet eyes were bloodshot -- as Honour was sure her own were -- and the batpony panted heavily once the cup was lowered.

"Gracias, Glamerspear, for your foresight. I appear to have outdone myself last night."

As Honour stepped up for her own refreshment, Ebonshield looked her up and down. "But it seems that I was not the only one."

The corporal swallowed down her own mouthful of Canterlot's icy meltwater. It was cool and refreshing, though the sudden blast of cold in her mouth was likely to aggravate her headache in a moment. Still, it was a start to flushing the toxic brews out of her body.

She nodded as she poured herself a second glass. "Yeah. Though I could have done without the rattle of the sewing machine waking me up."

Ebonshield looked over at the table. "I think this also is why I have awoken."

There was the sound of movement in Sparkshower's room, and Ebonshield leaned over slightly towards it. "Perhaps that will serve to awaken us all, in spite of the commandment of the Great Lord that there should be no duty this morning."

The pegasus' door flew open, and Honour barely got a glimpse of Sparkshower before she bolted for the washroom and slammed the door behind her so forcefully that the latch failed to engage and the rebound left it cracked slightly open. The corporal and sergeant both leaned suspiciously around the corner towards the frame, only to hear the sounds of hideous retching, followed shortly after by the unmistakable plop of vomit into a toilet bowl.

‘Oh…’

That was not helping what Honour had brewing in her own stomach. She put a hoof to her belly as she took another cautious sip of water. "How's she in there heaving when she's the biggest of the four of us and drank the least?"

Holding up the altered dress to examine her work, Glamerspear offered up an explanation. "She's a lightweight who can't hold her drink?"

As another violent outburst followed in the room next door, Ebonshield let out a pained moan, a hoof held defensively up to her muzzle. "Ooohhh… ...But listen to how little comes out of her. This is not the poisoning of the alcohol -- this is the sickness of the dawn. I have witnessed this before."

‘She's got to be joking.’

"We call it morning sickness, Eb. But she hadn't seen her coltfriend in weeks before Friday, and I don't think she got laid last night, either."

Over at the coffee-table-turned-sewing-table, Glamerspear chuckled worriedly. "I dunno, she was talking to some pretty slick colts. Maybe there was some quick hoofy-poofy in the washroom we didn't notice."

It hadn't seemed that serious to Honour, but then again, Artemis had been pretty miserable about the breakup. A mare like that could be easily manipulated into anything… Maybe she should have kept a tighter leash on the pegasus last night.

Finally, Honour scrunched up her muzzle. "Anyways morning sickness doesn't come on that quickly. You have to be at least a few weeks pregnant first."

Ebonshield shook her head. "I did not mean the sickness of the morning which comes with foal. I said dawn sickness, which is something else."

Taking a deep breath and holding it so her cheeks puffed out, she leaned over, stretched out a wing, and pulled the washroom door closed. With relief, she allowed herself to breathe normally again. The noises from the washroom were thankfully muffled now, and the potential propagation of the smell halted. Not that there was a lot going on in there any more.

Honour heard Sparkshower cough and moan a bit, then flush the toilet.

The corporal clopped a hoof against the wall. "You okay in there, Sparkshower?"

There was another moan, but there was also a weak reply. "I... I've been a little sick."

"Don't worry about it. Take your time. Open the window. Wash your face. Gently, now."

"Okay."

‘She'll be fine.’

As Honour took another sip of water, cautious to avoid further upsetting her own insides, she prompted Ebonshield to continue. "So what's 'dawn sickness,' if it's not about having a foal inside you?"

The batpony raised her eyebrows. "Dawn sickness is common at sunrise after you have had something else inside you. Something dark and malevolent."

Eb turned her head and stared tellingly at Glamerspear, whose jaw dropped.

"You mean an Accursed Shadow? Celestia!" Glamerspear lowered her head down to rest on the table. "She's really paying the price for that lesson with Ignacio. It ought to be me in there puking my guts out! It was my lesson."

Cringing, Honour raised a forehoof. "Take it easy on the graphic descriptions there, Glam, unless you want Sparkshower’s solo performance to turn into a duet -- or a trio."

The unicorn sighed, then looked curiously up at the sergeant. "Did you ever -- Ignacio said that older Stars volunteer to be possessed, to train the others in hunting them."

Their somewhat secretive batpony comrade shook her head. "No. Only those who are nearly too old to fight any more do this. I have participated in such training, but only as a hunter."

The corporal had no idea what was being talked about here; there was a lot of conversation last night, but none of it was about dawn sickness, or Accursed Shadows, or possession, or whatever Glamerspear and Sparkshower and Ignacio did Monday afternoon.

"Glamerspear. What exactly was this lesson? You never told us what you got up to in the Rookery."

The unicorn sighed, lifting her head back up. "Well, we weren't in the Rookery for long. Ignacio took us to the Moon."

Glamerspear pointed up and out the skylight. "The actual Moon! Real talk, the one up there! We could see Equestria from it, barely."

As she slipped into Manehattan slang, Honour was dumbstruck by her pronouncement, and she didn’t really know why. She was standing next to somepony who literally was born and lived for decades on the Moon; it was only reasonable to assume they had some conduit to get back there as needed. But it was still an unfathomable leap from a cavern under a mountain to walking on another world.

The unicorn continued. "He took us to what he called 'the' crater. It's a religious site for batponies, I guess. It's where Nightmare Moon landed after Celestia sent her up there a thousand years ago."

Ebonshield piped up. "Not only the Nightmare Moon. The members of the League of Stars who refused to abandon her landed in that crater as well, turned by her spell final into the first batponies. My ancestors."

Glamerspear nodded. "Well there's plenty of craters for everypony, that's for sure. The one we went down goes real deep, though, more like it was drilled than just hit. Ignacio said that was the best place to train in their kind of magic -- the Eclipse magic, I mean. The barrier was weaker there."

"What barrier?"

"The barrier between our world and..." Glamerspear shook her head. "...some other one, full of nasty creatures absolutely jacked up on mana. That's how Ignacio and the Eclipse work -- they're conjurers, bringing those demons into our realm and binding them to stuff. Like Eb's suit of illusion armor, or some medallions another Eclipse, Aldonza, gave us to disguise ourselves as batponies on the Moon."

The batpony in the room nodded. "Yes. And also the sand in the pit of the Grand Hall of Stars. And sometimes even to things not quite substantial, like the sound of the instruments musical, or of the voice singing."

Glamerspear furrowed her brow. "You know that stuff too? He said they don't share their secrets outside their Phase."

Eb inhaled sharply through her nostrils. "No, they do not. But Ignacio and I have a relationship... a little especial."

Even Honour cocked an eyebrow at that one. "Really? You and him...?"

She left the obvious question unsaid, but Eb shook her head. "Not like that. Simply a... strong admiration, I think. But continue your story, Specialist."

Glamerspear shook her head, grinning. "No way. You can't drop a bomb on us like that, Sarge, without explaining it."

Ebonshield looked uncomfortable, and Honour couldn't tell if it was because of the alcohol poisoning or being pressed on what was apparently a sensitive issue. Either way, she wasn't genuinely ill, and Honour wanted to hear what happened to Sparkshower first.

"Yes she can. I don't have the brainpower to follow two threads right now, and I want to know why one of ours is miserable in the washroom first."

The unicorn grumbled. "Fine. So the Eclipse bind these creatures, which they call the 'Accursed Shadows.' And because they're so dangerous, the first thing they learn how to do is how to get rid of them, to banish them back to their other world. That's what he tried to teach me."

Honour jerked a forehoof towards the bathroom door. "And what part did Sparkshower play in this training?"

Glamerspear swallowed.

"She was the Accursed Shadow's... host."

Honour raised her eyebrow and opened her eyes wide, scrutinizing Glamerspear's face. She glanced over towards Ebonshield, who nodded.

"When an Accursed Shadow possesses a creature, they become abomination. To banish them and restore the creature is a skill essential, and Stars train to fight and capture abominations just as Eclipse train to banish the shadows within."

Ebonshield turned her head towards the closed door as another bout of loud coughing and hacking emanated from behind it. "But even after banishment, there are some consequences to the possession, which fade with time."

She turned back towards the hungover corporal and the seamstress. "'Dawn sickness' is one such consequence. They become ill violently at the first kiss of dawn sunlight. After an elder Star volunteers to become abomination in order to train the new generation of Stars and Eclipse, they avoid the surface for several weeks."

Honour narrowed her eyes again. "I don't think we can lock Sparkshower up underground. What other after-effects are there from this procedure?"

The batpony prepared to rattle off a list, but Glamerpsear beat her to the punch. "Irritability, emotional instability, difficulty sleeping, vivid dreams, and strong reactions to the sight of blood -- that's what Ignacio said. He didn't mention anything about throwing up in the morning."

Eb shrugged. "Likely this is because such an effect is generally planned for in advance, and so this rarely happens anymore, except when circumstances force the former abomination to see the sun. He may simply have forgotten."

Honour cocked an eyebrow. "Anything else he might have missed?"

She shook her head. "No. But the descriptions given such as 'irritability' and 'emotional instability' do not do the symptoms justice. When I trained in this, a week after being exorcised, the retired master became so angry over a matter trivial that he became violent, and the efforts of many Stars were needed to subdue him. In his fury, he caused many injuries to others and in stopping him, the Stars caused many more to him -- so many that he perished as a result. This is not a fate uncommon, and this is why we conduct the training only using those Stars considered too old and too physically frail to serve."

Glamerspear inhaled sharply. "It can get that bad? Buck, now really I feel awful for dragging Sparkshower along."

The bat pony nodded. "The Accursed Shadows are not to be trifled with. The Children are all sworn to destroy them whenever they are found outside of our own control -- and that is an oath which is taken most seriously, since this comes from our own history. In the early years of our banishment, our mages toyed freely with the shadow realm. Many mistakes were made, and much suffering was caused. Many shadows were loosed, either freely, or in the form of abominations."

She turned to Honour. "You have been to the Lunar Sanctuary, Caporal. You have seen the Courtyard of the Houses, where much of the scheming and deal-making of the Children is done, and the Vestibule of Priests, where is conducted the remainder. The Lunars are conniving power brokers, and my mother most of all, or else she would never have become the Mother Superior of her House and then the Children as a whole."

Taking another sip of water, she licked her lips. "Yet for all their faults, I still consider them a positive, stabilizing force, particularly with regards to the Accursed Shadows. We must use those foul creatures, because without them, there is no magic for us, and without magic there can be no victory, but without the orthodoxy strictly-enforced of the Lunars, we might easily slip into ancient customs of corruption and experimentation without restraint."

It all seemed to be hitting home for Glamerspear. "Ignacio said that with the easy travel from the Moon to Equestria, no batpony mother will ever give birth under an Eclipse again. He was happy to tell us his kind would one day be no more."

Eb nodded knowingly. "In the old days, birth would be forced during an eclipse, by potion or spell or even violence, in order to produce artificially more Children-mages capable of summoning the Accursed Shadows; they, as well as an army of abominations, were the easy paths to power for any would-be tyrant. There are many dark secrets in our history. The rise of the Lunar orthodoxy put an end to this."

"How'd they win, if the other guys had all these mages and possessed troops?"

Ebonshield grimaced.

"The details are somewhat lost to history, but we believe that the new order focused on training untainted warriors and on developing new techniques for banishment, many of which are still practiced today. Abominations are more vulnerable during the day and especially in sunlight, while an exorcised abomination is merely an ordinary pony again, and the tyrant-lords who produced them in droves did not train their troops beforehoof. Furthermore, abominations cannot truly be controlled and are never trustworthy. So when the untainted forces met the corrupt horde of a tyrant, if they could force the issue on the surface and make things appear as if the tide had turned against the Shadows, then the result was chaos, catastrophe, and utter annihilation. Even a recently-exorcised abomination is quick to panic. Thus the tyrants were overcome or chose to submit."

The batpony whinnied. "This was not the end of war between Children, of course. Once the matter of the Accursed Shadows was settled, there were many details of doctrine to fight over -- that is when my Temple was founded, as were many others. But even once a single religious orthodoxy was established, then there were many wars between the Great Houses over trivial matters, until two years ago, when the return of the Great Mother ended open conflict."

Over at the card table, Glamerspear exploded. "Okay, so much for the history lesson -- and now you know what happened to Sparks, Honour, so how's about we get some details on this 'special relationship' between Ignacio and our sergeant?"

‘She's got absolutely no patience whatsoever, does she?’

Regardless, Ebonshield humored her request. "As I said, he... admires me. But this he does from a distance. I think he is too aware of his disabilities physical to attempt anything more."

She put down her cup, brushing some of the spilled water off her neck with a forehoof. "He is not of my House, you may remember. He was supervising a tournament in which I participated when I was only a Third of the Temple of the Shining Stellar Dance. Such events are common among the Houses of the Children, which compete for the prestige not only of winning prizes, but also in being gracious hosts and staging elaborate competitions. Ignacio's House, House Rima de Serenidad, is particularly famous for them."

Honour cocked an eyebrow. "Are any of these tournaments like the Grand Mélee? Groups all fighting at once, the whole day long?"

Eb nodded. "Sometimes, yes. But these are not commonly entered by the Stellar Dancers, so I have little experience with them. I am afraid I have much to learn in that regard. We shine in solo competitions. In this one, Ignacio conjured opponents of sand, much as you all saw him do, and we competed one at a time to defeat the enemies as quickly as possible."

Ebonshield gracefully spread her wings wide. "This was not my first tournament, and I was considered quite gifted for being only a Third. I took the first prize for my Temple, and by a margin considerable. This would not be the last time I would compete with Ignacio as the Balladeer of Ghosts set against me. Indeed, such pairings became more and more frequent."

There was a flushing noise from the washroom, and the sound of running water from the sink.

‘Sounds like Sparkshower's over the worst of things.’

"In fact I began to notice how frequently my Temple was invited to tournaments; this was uncommon, since we are, as you have seen, not well-appreciated among the Stars. We would be invited to some competitions, yes, because to exclude us completely would be offensive and therefore invite a discounted price being offered for the assassination of members of that House, but we were left out of many tournaments on the basis that we were not soldiers ordinary."

Puffing her tuft out slightly, she wiggled her shoulders and repositioned her plot for maximum effect. "Because House Rima de Serenidad suddenly broke with tradition and kept inviting us, the other Houses were thus compelled to keep up, lest they be seen as laggards. And since I was a rising star within the Temple who could win, I would often be sent as a representative to win more. This situation was so unheard-of in the history of our Temple that I do not exaggerate when I say that in the halls of our Temple there are as many trophies from tournaments which were awarded to me than there are for those of all other Stellar Dancers, past or present. For two years, I was a champion of hundreds of contests, known across the Moon, and all because House Rima de Serenidad invited the Temple of the Shining Stellar Dance to join in every one of their monthly, semi-annual, and grand annual tournaments, instead of being invited only to one of the two semi-annual events."

She was clearly proud of her achievement, and it did sound like quite an accomplishment.

Honour couldn't help but snicker when she saw the conclusion at the end of the story, however. "Let me guess where this is going: Ignacio was the one who demanded they keep inviting you back. Because he had a crush on you."

The sergeant laughed amiably. "Yes, precisely this. Eventually, after one of many such events, he asked to see me in private -- a most unusual request, since the Eclipse are both reclusive and ostracized from formal society."

She swallowed, blushing a little. "We spoke in the guest quarters of his House, in my room. He made only small talk at first: complimenting me on my performance, asking me about other recent tournaments. We discussed technique of combat and acrobatics at length, and I was surprised at how much he knew. We spoke for hours, until both of us were exhausted..."

Her cheeks were rosy-red now. "...Eventually, he confessed his scheme to me. You know that he is blind, as are all Eclipse, but they can 'hear' magic, and this 'sound' they can eventually use to perceive the world around them, in great detail. They call it the third ear."

Glamerspear scoffed. "Yeah, Ignacio kept trying to get me to 'open' my 'third ear' on Monday, but I couldn't do much. Maybe unicorns just aren't built for it."

"Perhaps. I can tell you that his 'third ear' is most perceptive. He could make out and then later recall even the tiniest details of my motions, when I fought in the sand-pit."

She sighed wistfully. "He said that he had never observed someone who could move as I did when in battle. He adored watching me work. I was beautiful to him, even though he did not know the style of my mane or the color of my eyes. He could perceive only the motion, the attacking, the feinting, the defending. And the only way he could think to show his appreciation was to ensure that I would have many tournaments to compete in -- which coincidentally also afforded him opportunities additional to observe me at work."

Bound and Glamerspear both sat, attentively waiting for the conclusion of the scene.

Eb looked a little hesitant.

Honour raised her eyebrows.

Eventually the sergeant relented. "We spent the night together. As an Eclipse, he cannot... ...you know. But we kept each other company. Since then we have remained good friends. And, even though I still owed much of my life to my House, we sometimes kept each other company again."

Honour whinnied. "What'd he call you in the sandpit that first time, when you got injured? A pet name?"

"Yes. 'Angelita de la muerte' -- 'little angel of death.'"

There was another flush from the washroom, then Honour heard hoofsteps on tile. The door opened, and Sparkshower emerged; alive, but looking the worse for wear.

"Uhhh... I don't feel so good."

Ebonshield turned and extended a wing to wrap around the nauseated pegasus. "This illness will pass in time. You have only what we call the 'dawn sickness.'"

Artemis went stark white. "What?! Dawn sickness?! But I can't be pregnant -- I'm not even married yet!"

Honour tried really hard to suppress her laughter, but it wasn’t quite enough.

Eb, however, kept a completely straight face. "Ah, Artemiso, this is not from pregnancy. This is another side-effect from having had the Accursed Shadow within you."

"Oh..." Sparkshower furrowed her brow. "...Oh. It's just that I do remember talking to an awful lot of nice colts last night. And I, uh..."

The yellow pony started turning red. "...I also remember getting sorta really close with a few of them. I mean, uh, physically, like sorta snuggling, except not. And there were a lot of calling cards stuffed into my plaid when I got home."

‘Seriously? She wasn't just getting chatted up by colts, she was grinding with them and getting names and addresses?’

That seemed rather out of character.

Glam suddenly stood up. "Yeah, well never mind those loser colts from the nightclubs last night, Sparks, because you're gonna get a dozen more calling cards from Canterlot's most eligible bachelor noblecolts at the Gala with this!"

Using her telekinesis, she proudly held up the dress, the alterations for pegasus wings complete. It was a gorgeous pink cocktail dress, with a solid, but lacy body and poofy tulle rear. Instantly, Sparkshower's apprehension about last night and illness from this morning seemed to melt away.

"Oh my! It looks just as good as it did in the store, Lily!"

Glam beamed proudly. "Of course it does! I told you I'd do you right, didn't I? Now, let's give it a try on, yeah? And you can let me know if it's too tight or loose anywhere. You're gonna knock 'em dead with this one at the Gala, Sparks."

The two junior soldiers retired into Sparkshower's room for the final dress rehearsal.

Honour sighed. "If we're all done with the sewing machine, I ought to go try to sleep this hangover off some more."

Ebonshield nodded. "I think I will do this also. Perhaps we will check in with the Great Lord after lunch, to see if he is in a condition similar?"

"Yeah. Sounds like a plan."

Chapter 128

Honour Bound

This was the first time in a while Corporal Honour Bound had been in an ordinary, terrestrial cab pulled by an ordinary, hooves-on-the-ground earth pony driver.

‘Or is it?’

She furrowed her brow, trying to remember last night. Surely they five drunkards didn't just stumble back to the palace from Canterlot's fashionable Tallyho district on hoof? The events leading up to their collective decision to head home were still pretty hazy, and everything after that was a complete blur.

At least having another nap until the afternoon had managed to clear the dull, throbbing pain in her head. Honour could thank her earth pony constitution for that -- or maybe just her well conditioned liver. When she’d awoken for the afternoon shift, the rest of her comrades were still feeling out of it, and she’d suspected her Very Important Pony, who wasn't actually a pony, was likely to be out of it as well.

As Honour looked out the window, trying to remember, the Royal Engineer interrupted her thoughts.

"By the way, Corporal, I don't think I properly thanked you for your assistance last night."

‘Uhh...?’

He smiled, though there was a pain in his eyes which told her he hadn't been bluffing about nursing a painful hangover headache. Not enough to keep him in bed, he'd said, but too much to keep him from being productive in his office or the garage. So, instead, here they were in a cab, on their way to the Bridle Path Clothiers to pick up his Gala suit.

“I should say you went well beyond the call of duty. And I do apologize for my inappropriate behavior."

‘Uhhhhhhhhhhhhh.’

Panic started to set in a bit.

‘Just WHAT did I do last night?’

‘Or what does he THINK I did?’

She opted for the honest approach. "Thank you, sir, but what 'assistance' are you referring to?"

He waved a gloved hand dismissively. "Keeping me from getting into fisticuffs with that bouncer, for a start. When he refused us entrance on the basis of our obvious drunkenness, I don't know what overcame me. It was my fault for provoking him, and it wouldn't have ended well if we'd actually traded blows."

That did sound like something Honour would have done, and Glamerspear had already corroborated the incident itself.

"Yes, sir."

The Royal Engineer chuckled. "I suppose the drinks went to Specialist Sparkshower's head as well. After I ducked his punch and that poor colt bounced off of Glamerspear's magical shield, Sparkshower tackled him so fast I'd have sworn she'd brought that rocket-lance along for the night."

It sounded like quite the show; she was almost upset she couldn't remember it. ‘Drunken member of the Blue Chamber shouts expletives at bouncer, ducks under punch while unicorn bodyguard shield-bounces the target back and the pegasus tackles, while earth pony runs blocker on the VIP.’

Honour had a vague recollection of standing on her hind hooves, forehooves pressed up against Anonymous' chest, while he struggled to step forward, waving his hands and hollering taunts past her head. Could she remember any of them?

'I'm gonna beat you like a rented mule, boy'?

That sounded familiar; it just needed more slurring, and the scent of alcohol accompanying it. She also remembered him asking repeatedly 'Do you know who I am?' and then rattling off his full title: 'By Appointment to Their Majesties Princess Celestia and Princess Luna, The Royal Engineer of Equestria'.

The Royal Engineer in question continued before she could recall any more of his litany. "Anyways, after Sergeant Ebonshield wrangled Sparkshower away, you rallied the rest of the quaternion and somehow -- I really don't know how -- calmed things down enough to hail a cab and bundle us all in."

‘A-ha! So we didn't just hoof it back to the palace.’

"That was very well done. And I seem to remember making all sorts of wild suggestions which you somehow also managed to talk me out of -- like going somewhere for a snack or desserts or hitting up another bar."

Anonymous wouldn't be the first drunken companion Honour’d had to convince to turn in after what had already been a very full night of partying.

"But you put your hoof down and saw us all back to our residences, safe and sound. I don't know what got into me; I haven't gotten drunk like that since I was studying for my Bachelor's degree."

She nodded knowingly. It was funny how despite the social gulf -- not to mention the racial one -- his experiences seemed to mirror her own. "Yes, sir. I don't think I've imbibed so much since I first joined the Guard, either."

Her VIP swallowed, and he pulled his handkerchief out to mop a bit of sweat up at his brow. "Well, I appreciate you managing to keep a level head throughout the ordeal. And I'm sorry if my antics ruined the night. But you really didn't have to help me in my chambers afterwards. Regardless of what Sergeant Ebonshield's said about ancient Equestrian traditions, I don't think that kind of help is demanded of you in your position, is it?"

‘In his chambers?’

Stopping a fight, hailing a cab, and dissuading further partying was one thing...

‘What did I get up to in his room?’

She started to get a bit hot under her armored collar. "Sir?"

He emitted a pained chuckle. "I mean, my suit -- it would have taken one night's sleep in it. Wrinkles iron out eventually. You didn't have to help me get undressed."

‘I helped him out of his suit.’

‘That's... a little awkward, but it wasn't really too bad, was it?’

Yes, clothes were different for him than for ponies, but she’d already seen him naked when she passed through that waterfall in the Lunar Sanctuary, in the batpony Rookery under Canterlot Mountain.

"I do appreciate your thoroughness, though."

Honour wracked her brain, trying to reconstruct the scene. As the drunken haze lifted, pieces started to click into place.

Suggested background music: British Sea Power - 'Your Body Betrays Your Degeneracy', from 'Disco Elysium' [2019]
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p1nkmNTpzOU

She found herself on her hind hooves again, but not out on a cobblestone street. It was indoors; in the Royal Engineer's chambers, and she was on the other side of the low movable partition wall which separated the living, dining, and work spaces at the front from his bed and dressing area.

Her forehooves were on his chest -- and around them, slightly -- but this time he wasn’t struggling against her. He was just leaning slightly, and swaying.

The buttons on his shirt were giving her trouble.

‘Why are there so many of them??’

‘And why are they so small??’

‘Damn unicorn tailors not accommodating anypony without telekinesis... or hands.’

"Lemme... Lemme help. I can do... I can do buttons."

Honour remembered saying ‘no, sir, I'll take care of it, sir.’ There was no way some BUTTONS of all things were going to defeat her, drunk or not. She managed to undo one more coming up from the bottom and her muzzle met his fingers as he got the top three open. That was a triumph, but when he pulled up his shirt to reveal two more buttons previously hidden below his waistline, her disappointment was immeasurable.

"I got-- I got these. Jus'hold onto me so you -- so you don't fall down."

He struggled in place, wobbling on his feet, and it was clear that drunk fingers were scarcely better than drunk hooves, or drunk teeth, at manipulating the obnoxious little fixtures. Finally, he got them undone, and with the cufflinks already removed, he could take his shirt off. The undershirt followed after only a little struggling and a near-tumble sideways.

There was just one piece left, but when he hunched forward to get a look at the Tartarean clasp which held his pants together, he almost fell right over the corporal. She raised a hoof and told him to just wait.

‘I got this.’

It was like solving a puzzle.

She sat down on her haunches for a more comfortable approach, and he put his hands on her withers, steadying himself, while his eyes flickered open and closed as sleep began to overtake him.

There was a button, and a zipper, and then on the inside there was a little buckle. But that was not enough: there was more in there -- another button? -- and she had to root around with her hooves and muzzle to figure it out.

Between his trousers and his underpants.

Dangerously close to certain other things.

But as Honour struggled towards the solution, she felt one of his hands go to her neck, gently stroking her coat back and forth. That was a distraction she didn't need right now, but...

But it felt nice.

She paused in her furious work. That momentary rest allowed sleep to start catching up with her, too, and as the tender ministrations continued, she found herself leaning forward into him, resting her head against his abdomen. His other hand left her shoulder, and she felt fingers start to pierce into the threads of her braid. Slowly, he dug them deeper and deeper, parting the strands of her tightly-bound mane until he reached her crest and began to massage.

She felt her eyes close.

"Soft choco-pone... Soft... Why'd you... Why'd y'wear y'hair up like this anyways, co'pral. Oughtta let it down, s'probably prettier likedat."

With one ear against his chest, she didn't so much hear his mumbling as feel it.

"Prettier... Errythingsso pretty here. Softnpretty."

The fingers worked deep, and she let out a small moan, tilting her head sideways to guide them along their way.

"Prettynsoft, nsoftnpretty... Jus wanna... wanna curl up with errything. Curl up... Curl up."

She felt his chest rise and fall with each breath.

"Curl up... Curlup an'not be alone."

The rhythm of her lungs synchronized with his.

"Donwanna be loneanymore. Donwanna... Donwanna..."

There was a sudden movement, and Honour was jostled back to her senses by the labored breathing of her VIP, who had tears in his eyes.

The Royal Engineer stepped back from her, thrusting his pelvis forward and arching his back, standing on his toes as he angrily attacked the last two inner buttons holding his pants on. He almost stumbled over sideways before getting them open, and once that was done, he unceremoniously sat down hard on the ground, his back up against the side of his bed, with his pants around his knees. As he leaned up against the wooden frame, Honour saw his eyes shut, and then his head lolled forward, surrendering to exhaustion.

She remembered hesitating for a moment. But she couldn't leave a job half done. He'd be all stiff and sore in the morning if he slept sitting up like that.

Straightening his legs, Honour pulled his pants off and then put her muzzle under his shoulder, hoisting him up.

"...Huh? Whuzzat? Whuddufuck izzat?"

She told him who she was, and that it was time to sleep, and as she lifted him level with the mattress, he instinctively turned around, his hands finding familiar purchase in the soft bedding and silky sheets.

"...hokay. Gnngiht cpral. GudnighintzzzzzzzzSNORTzzzz." He barely got himself in before plummeting straight to sleep.

Honour gently pulled the top sheet over her VIP, and then managed to make her way out, past his plush easy chair and two very inviting-looking sofas, through his chamber door, up the stairs to the second floor, and into her own bedroom to flop out on her own bed.

Back in the present, the Royal Engineer sat across from Honour in the cab, looking tired, but friendly and appreciative. He remembered her helping him undress, but did he remember what he did? Groping her neck? Fondling her braid? Commenting on her manestyle?

Admitting his loneliness?

And had she even remembered it all, or was there more she’d forgotten? Somehow, she felt certain it didn't go further than that. Maybe he'd said more and maybe the embrace -- what else could she call it, if she didn't resist? -- went on for longer than she’d realized.

Honour carefully watched his eyes as she answered him. "I was more than a little drunk myself, sir. I've been told that I can get quite determined in that state."

He ruefully shrugged his eyebrows. "I can understand that. When I got drunk in school I'd often go home and try to bang out my homework. Sometimes it'd even be legible in the morning. But last night I felt like I was on the verge of collapsing; it wouldn't have been very good if I'd fallen on top of you. Adults like us really ought to know better than to drink so much."

There was nothing evasive in his voice. He just remembered the shouting at the bouncer and then the clothes and the tumbling over; he might've been half-asleep already when he put his fingers in her braids and told her she'd look better without them.

‘Wearing my mane down…’

She hadn't done that since before her divorce.

When she’d left her ex-husband, she left Fillydelphia and her friends, left her old post and her old career, and she’d left her old manestyle behind, too. Now, the only times Honour’s mane hung free was when she brushed it in the evening and redid the braid in the morning. She hadn't even let it down for Castlerook -- not that he'd asked.

‘And even if he had asked, would I have?’

As with the offer to move back to Filly with him, it was an uncomfortable thought. About as uncomfortable as the thought of her VIP running his fingers through her mane, calling her a 'Soft choco-pone,' telling her she'd look better with her mane down, and then crying to himself about loneliness.

Well, at least the latter situation wouldn't come up again -- not if they both measured themselves next time, as he suggested. The whole quaternion had gotten tipsy; even Ebonshield didn't escape without a hangover, and if Honour was old enough to know better, then she was even more so. All of them were still sleeping it off back at the palace upstairs. Whereas here she was, feeling well enough for a two-wheeler coach ride to Poole Street.

The colt up front wearing the tackle called back over his shoulder. "Here we are, m'Lord; Bridle Path Clothiers, Poole Street. That's twenty bits, sir."

As the carriage came to a stop, Anonymous reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out two ten-bit pieces. He opened the door, stepped down, and hoofed -- handed, rather -- them to the driver before Honour exited the vehicle as well.

"Here you go, cabbie. Is there a stand nearby where we can find a carriage for our return?"

As the colt sat down to put the fare in his purse, he pointed a forehoof down the street. "Just down there, sir, not two blocks away. Your Lordship might even find me there."

Honour glanced inside the window of the store. There were a lot of customers in there -- at least a dozen that she could see, and who knows how many more in any of the other rooms. And they didn't look like they were all part of the same group.

‘Looks like we’ll be waiting for a while.’

"I don't think we're going to be in and out too quickly."

There was a deep rumble in the grey sky above, and all three of them looked up to see imminent darkening.

Anonymous frowned as he spoke up. "That's not a welcome noise. I don't much fancy a wet dash while nursing a hangover and possibly with a new suit in hand."

‘That's a ridiculous statement.’

‘I’m his bodyguard -- I’d go run the two blocks to get the cab for him, he wouldn't have to run with me.’

"Sir, if it's raining when we come out, I can always-"

As he'd so often done before, he infuriatingly ignored her suggestion of sacrifice for his sake before she could even finish making it, addressing himself to the driver. "Tell me, my friend, could we arrange for you to come back and pick us up in, say, two hours?"

Somehow the way he casually used 'we' mollified her rage at being overruled. She supposed that even if she’d run for the taxi stand and gotten soaked on behalf of her VIP, then there would've been the question of what to do with her afterwards. Some VIPs would tell their bodyguards to walk back to the palace.

Anonymous definitely wasn't one of those; she’d take the carriage with him for sure. Normally she would stand on the running board at the back, getting even more wet and probably muddy, too.

And the Royal Engineer wouldn't have accepted that either. Which means he'd order her inside to sit next to him, and then she’d soak him by virtue of adjacency.

The cabbie shook his head as Honour heard the trotting of hooves all around her from ponies hustling for cover. "Sorry, m'Lord, I'm afraid it's against agency rules; scheduled pickups require a four-wheeler minimum. You could hire me for the half-day, though. It's two hundred bits, but I'll refund you the twenty from just now."

"Very well. On a day like this, it's worth it."

Honour’s VIP reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a long wallet, opening it to extract a pair of hundred-bit notes.

It had been a lot fuller last night when they first hit the town. Hundred-bit notes, five-hundred-bit notes, even a substantial wad of thousand-bit notes. The Royal Engineer had said he'd not just come in under budget on the Whirlwind, he'd also been pretty frugal with his personal allowance up until now. That's how he was able to buy bottle service tables at three different nightclubs without batting an eye.

"Here you go."

"Thank you, m'Lord. And here's your twenty bits back. I'll be right here warming your seat for you when you've finished."

With a cheerful forehoof salute, the colt unhooked himself from the two supporting shafts, propped them up on folding rests to keep the cab level, dusted off his hooves, and then clambered into his own taxi to take refuge from the impending rain.

The first spits of water just started to fall as they entered the coltswear store. Honour’s observations inside confirmed what she saw from the outside; it was packed in here. There were seats set up with customers waiting on them, and staff darting to and fro with outfits held in hooves or wings, or more commonly in magical telekinetic glows. Honour could always tell Gala season in Canterlot by how busy the clothing shops were -- even on a rainy day.

A slender young unicorn mare with a feathered cap waited at a book-stand inside, like a restaurant hostess with a seating plan. "Good afternoon! Welcome to Bridle Path Clothiers. Are you here to pick up an order, or would you like to browse?"

"Picking up. It's for a bespoke suit."

She consulted the tome spread open in front of her. "I'm afraid it's going to be a wait of around thirty minutes, perhaps an hour if you wanted to try it on first. Or I can write you in for an appointment later?"

There was another rumble of thunder outside, and then the sky started to unload on what poor ponies hadn't made it to shelter in time. Usually Canterlot only got scheduled drizzle during the daytime, with major showers reserved for the night; this must've been a big weather pattern if the Airborne Weather And Climate Service pegasi couldn't break up the storm front without putting it in the forecast. It was pretty rare for severe weather to slip by the AWACS.

"That's all right, we'll wait for a room."

After taking his name, she directed them to an empty pair of seats, to be called up when it was their turn with a staff member and fitting room. Accepting the seat, Honour sat taciturn for several minutes. The Royal Engineer accepted a glass of water that the receptionist-mare brought him, then closed his eyes and joined her in silence. With the hangover, her VIP was apparently, and quite understandably, not in a chatty mood.

That didn't bother her.

Glancing around, Honour took in the crowd. There were colts of all ages waiting for their Gala outfits, some of them accompanied by their partners, a few of them by either their children or their parents, and curiously, two of them even had bodyguards. Neither of those were wearing official Royal Guard dress, though that didn't necessarily mean they weren't Royal Guardsponies, since special uniforms could be issued by the VIP. But she felt certain that neither of their patrons were guests of the palace, which meant these escorts were private hires.

On her right was an older colt, probably in his fifties in loose but elegant robes, with a curly mane, a short mustache, and a goatee. He was accompanied by a young, thin pegasus tart, smartly dressed in a tan jacket with gold epaulettes, a red side cap on her head and a black silk scarf completing the ensemble. She was clearly trying to look like she'd been in the guard, but with her age, there was no chance, not unless she'd washed straight out of 'shoe camp. She wasn't even armed -- no sabots, no weapons. Her fashionable medium-length manestyle was practical enough, and maybe she simply didn't feel the need to be visibly armed in a coltswear store, but the corporal was still almost certain she was just for show.

Honour wondered if the colt was even nobility. He didn't seem to quite have that aristocratic air -- maybe he was a commoner who'd been decorated for some service to Equestria? He might even be a retired general or other high-ranking official -- among non-nobles, those were the most common kinds of ponies given the privilege of a retinue. Either way, he must at least have some wealth to make use of his granted affinity by hiring a model as a VIP.

To Honour’s left, sitting in a corner, was a young twenty-something noblecolt regarding most of the room with a muzzle upturned in disdain. Accompanying him was an earth pony mare in her late thirties or early forties, who was wearing an ordinary, open-collared white shirt, with a beige pleated skirt and a pair of small brown saddlebags on a matching belt. Unlike the pegasus, from the bulge around her hooves, Honour could tell she had sabots on -- but she'd concealed them under dark brown short boots. The whole outfit screamed 'grey mare operator'; Honour was certain she had wraparound 'tactical' sunglasses in one of those bags.

But the corporal had to admit, she did fit right in here, and probably would anywhere else her VIP would care to go, too. Add a brown tie and a beige blazer and she'd be formal enough for the palace. Although she was doing a good job of blending in, Honour noted that she was also alertly watching all the movement in the busy store. She'd had proper training; she'd probably been in the Royal Guard, and maybe even in the VIP section.

The corporal caught the bodyguard eyeing her up, and from the look of sympathy she seemed to project, Honour was all but certain she'd served in exactly the same role. Her eyes seemed to say, 'I've been there, sister.' With maybe an apologetic hint of, 'It doesn't get much better, sorry.'

The corporal was struck by the two opposites of bodyguard duty before her. On the one hoof, the pretty decoration, hired for their youth and their looks and maybe a few other private things, but definitely not their fighting ability. On the other, the seasoned semi-retired warrior, fit as a warrior should be, and doubtless capable of projecting authority if needed, but hired for their genuine ability to protect a noble family's scion.

Honour had never been the first one; she wasn't good-looking enough, and regardless, by the time she’d joined the VIP section, she'd already been too disillusioned by her divorce to primp and preen and put on the haughty air required.

But, if she remained in the VIP section, was she heading for the second example? Five or ten years from now, when she was fully disillusioned with the Guard itself, would Honour retire a corporal, or maybe if she was lucky, a sergeant -- promotions were rare in this posting -- would she then wind up a private bodyguard herself? Being overruled by the noble family's head, dealing with the protestations of the young noblefoal, and putting up with just as much nonsense, if not more -- albeit for better pay?

If not, what was the alternative? Castlerook's timid proposal to go back exactly where she’d come from? Back to Fillydelphia, back to her family, and her old friends, and her old enemies? Back to her old regiment, except everypony competent had already been promoted past her? She’d reached Corporal half a year before Castlerook, damn it! And here he was a sergeant, pussyhoofing around his obvious plans -- Honour and Alex, in Filly', in the Guard, together.

She didn't know if that's what she wanted, but part of her almost wished he'd put his hooves down and properly push her into it. Celestia, she’d been out drinking with him three times and he'd slow-played her every time -- because he thought she was still the fragile mare who had to leave town when her marriage blew up in her face. Whereas she went drinking with her VIP just once and he'd already drunkenly groped her. Well, her mane, anyways. If Castlerook did the same thing she’d probably -- no, definitely -- melt right into his hooves. Yes, she was fragile after Filly', and yes, she wanted to know her colt respected her space and her opinion and her intelligence and all those other things about her. But damn if Honour didn't also want some aggression along with that respect.

She sighed.

Better try to make plans with Castlerook in what's left of this week, before the Gala. No doubt his regiment would be busy escorting sailors to and from the palace the whole time. Including the Tambermane's crew.

Including Leeward.

Honour shivered, and silently prayed to Celestia that she wouldn't run into him. The odds weren't too bad. It was a big palace, and a big Gala, after all. Unless he got there first and heard their party being announced in...

"Mister Anonymous? We have a fitting room for you now. Just this way, please."

One of the salescolts, wearing a measuring tape over his withers and with dark sweat spots at the shoulders of his otherwise impeccable dress shirt, led Honour's VIP over to one of the side areas of the store. She followed after him, surprised to be served so fast.

Glancing back at the seated crowd, she noticed that several of them now had elegantly-wrapped packages and boxes ready to go -- they were all just waiting for the torrential rain outside to let up.

‘Huh. I must've been daydreaming about the future longer than I thought.’

Even more time was made available for her to silently reflect as the Royal Engineer stepped into one of the cubicles and changed into his new outfit. Craning her head a bit, Honour looked back into the main room and saw that the young pegasus bodyguard was dripping wet, looking very unhappy. She must've gone out to ask Honour's cabbie if he was for hire -- that old colt wouldn't have sent his gaudy jewel all the way down the street to the taxi stand. But sending her just to the curb in front of the store for a cab ride home? And then she'd have time to freshen up, before anypony else would see her? Yeah, that, he'd do.

A glance at the older bodyguard revealed that she was bone dry. No doubt she saw Honour’s VIP's exchange with him before they both entered the store, and correctly informed her own charge of the situation with that tempting taxicab just outside the door. She even caught the grey-mare operator smirking at the ornamental guardsmare.

A flash of lightning illuminated the windows, and several of the ponies -- the wet guard included -- jumped in surprise. With a sigh, the operator bodyguard casually reached a forehoof into her left saddle bag, whipping out a pair of sporty sunglasses which she casually slipped on.

‘Hah! Called it.’

Honour heard the sound of a latch, followed by the steps of formal-shoe soles against the wooden floor.

"Well, Corporal, what do you think?"

The Royal Engineer stood before her, wearing a smouldering look and appearing resplendent in his bespoke, three-piece Gala tailcoat suit.

‘He's…’

‘I’m…’

‘Wow.’

‘Uh, maybe…’

‘Maybe I’m going to need to put my hair down -- for the Gala.’

Suggested interlude music: ZZ Top - 'Sharp Dressed Man' [1983]
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WUnp0xPF6zw

Chapter 129

Artemis Sparkshower

Recommended background music: Andreas Waldetoft - 'Johans Waltz', from 'Victoria 2' [2010]
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N69cQuAqgSg

"One, two, three, one, two-a-three, one, two, three, good!"

‘This is fun!’

"Now into the-"

"Whisk, and then un-twist, back-whisk-three, turn-two-three..."

Specialist Artemis Sparkshower narrated along with the Royal Engineer as he led the pegasus on her hind hooves around the stone patio just outside his chambers, one arm around her withers and the other holding her right forehoof out.

"Whisk-two-three, wing-two-three, chassé-and-three, lock-a-two-three, spin-two-three, lock-a-two-three, spin-two-three-four-five-six, turn-two-three, turn-two-three, sway."

As the Royal Engineer held Artemis at this tilted angle, she was tempted to open her wings for a little balance and maybe give them a flap of support, but that was a real no-no when dancing a Lipizzaner Waltz. It would be a tremendous expression of distrust if she were to show any fear that her dance partner was about to let her fall right on her back.

Anonymous smiled as he pulled the pegasus up straight onto her hind hooves again, and as she released her left forehoof from his shoulder, he gently lowered his arms so that Artemis could easily get back down on all fours.

"Well, Specialist Sparkshower, I'm no professional dancer, but I think we're getting the hang of this particular sequence of steps."

She smiled right back. "Yes, sir, I think we are. Though, umm, it is strictly speaking your job as the colt to lead."

He dusted his hands together, then straightened his trousers. "I know. And I'll try to keep things memorized. But I won't mind if you have to correct me."

The Royal Engineer glanced over at the phonograph, which continued on with its scratchy reproduction of a processional waltz as performed by the Band of the Household Division, in combination with the Countess of The Pale's String Orchestra.

"Shall we run through it one or two more times?"

"As long as you have the time for it, sir."

Nodding, he stepped forward and extended a hand to make it easy for Artemis to mount up in a hind-hooves stance.

"Of course."

As the Royal Engineer drew her in, Artemis readopted the starting position, and he counted in the time before leading her once more through the arrangement. She already had the steps completely memorized, and on this run through her partner didn't miss a beat. It was funny, actually. Here was her Very Important Pony who, in spite of not actually being a pony, was doing an excellent job with basic dance hoofsteps. Of course, it helped that it was a Lipizzaner Waltz; a couples' closely-clutched dance done on hind legs only. And even though this was just a simple arrangement, there was something enthralling in being twirled about like this.

Artemis felt like a dainty light dancer instead of a great big soldier. Part of that was because even up on her hind hooves, Anonymous was still half a head taller than her. The other part was because he actually was making a real effort to glide around gracefully, as the dance demanded, instead of clumsily trotting about. Huckleberry was taller than Artemis too, but he danced like he had four hind hooves. And he never got the hang of it, no matter how many Friday-night bootie-hop events she’d taken him to in school or Saturday night jamborees at the barn. Even on a romantic, late night on Hearts and Hooves Day, he couldn't make Artemis feel like this.

To be fair, Huck could make her feel a lot of other things, but a graceful dancer wasn't one of them. And it was a shame, too, because if he'd put some effort into it, she was sure he could've risen to the challenge. But instead, he got flustered easily and then frustratingly declared he didn't want to try any more. He got embarrassed easily. And when she suggested private lessons, it was already too late. Even though he'd never given Artemis a straight answer, she knew in his heart he'd stubbornly decided, like so many other things, that dancing wasn't for him.

Anonymous looked at the pegasus as they completed the sequence. "I think we have enough track left for one more."

"Yes, sir."

With surprisingly powerful arms -- surprising for how slender they were, compared to the stocky limbs of an earth pony colt -- he adroitly lifted Artemis out of the sway and straightened them both up again. Then it was one-two-three, two-two-three and off they went again.

Here she was, dancing the Lipizzaner Waltz with the Royal Engineer on a patio in a back nook of one of the palace's older wings. Artemis’ VIP didn't have to fear anypony seeing if he made a mistake. And he had made a few, though nothing catastrophic. Skipping ahead in the sequence, going left when he should've gone right -- nothing serious. She wondered what would've happened with her and Huckleberry if he'd been given the same chance.

But that was over now.

Maybe one of the cute colts she met Tuesday night knew ballroom steps. Too bad she hadn't felt well enough to try out the club floor solo, or she could have picked up some clues. And too bad the Royal Engineer had been too engrossed chatting with Lily, Honour, and Purity to venture out onto the dance floor either.

Or maybe...

Was he worried about embarrassing himself, too?

As Artemis was once again lowered into a delicate sway, she took a moment to admire her VIP's new white-tie suit for the Gala. It really was a nice change from his usual morning dress, trading the restrained formality of a government minister for the swank elegance of a young patrician reveller.

Anonymous lifted her up again and she got back down on all fours. "Good, good. If you're not too tired later, let's run through this again a few more times in the evening."

Artemis couldn't imagine ever being too tired to be whisked daintily around on the dance floor by a handsome colt. "Yes, sir."

The Royal Engineer stepped over to turn off the phonograph, parking the needle and pulling the record off of the spindle. He replaced it in the dust jacket, turning it over to scan through the liner notes, and Artemis got another good look at his suit. She was no professional design consultant, but she thought it went very well with her tea-length pink dress. He just needed a good lapel flower to finish the outfit.

What color, though?

White was the traditional choice; a carnation or gardenia. But that seemed too ordinary for as very-important a not-pony as her VIP. Red, to go with his formal sash of office? Or maybe some other accent color: royal blue, as a nod to the evening's festivities, or imperial purple as a second indication of his high-placed status? Maybe a light color to brighten the mood? Pale violet or old gold, to match the colors of the main halls of the palace?

Perhaps pink? A bit mareish, but she was sure the Royal Engineer was enough of a colt not to be intimidated by pink.

And pink would match her dress.

As Anonymous looked up at Artemis from the liner notes, she suddenly felt very exposed. It was a bit like standing in an open field and hearing an ominous rumbling from the clouds above.

He seemed to be looking over her outfit. "You're certain we won't have to worry about bumping into anyone else?"

‘Tremendous relief; it's not raining quite yet.’

"Yes, sir. These are the official steps for the waltz at this year's Gala. Everypony will be doing it all at the same time, and the Masters of the Dance will run an instruction as well as a few practice sessions early in the evening, before dinner and the main event. They'll make sure to distance couples properly."

Artemis thought back to the wonderful pictures and the newsreel films of previous years. Elegant couples in the finest of dress, all gliding and twirling in unison. And this year she’d be a part of it! Maybe she'd even be in one of those photos or newsreels...

"It's a lot more produced than I realized."

‘Oh, no!’

"But it does sound like fun. I just worry a bit about standing out."

‘Oh!’

‘Well, that's understandable.’

"You mustn't be worried about that, sir. You'll fit right in with everypony else, I'm sure. If you want we could perform a practice for somepony in private, first."

He chuckled. "Oh, maybe. Saturday before we leave, perhaps, when I'm starting to get nervous and having butterflies in my stomach."

‘Humans ate butterflies too??’

Anonymous glanced over her outfit. "And that's what you're wearing to the Gala? No further alterations?"

Artemis proudly extended her wings in parade rest. "This is it, sir. Lily -- er, Specialist Glamerspear -- worked all morning yesterday putting the finishing touches on the wing openings."

He nodded, smiling. "It's lovely. I certainly wouldn't have known it wasn't originally made for a pegasus."

Oh, that sent warm tingles down her spine, and Artemis did a little curtsy-turnabout in place to show off in case he missed anything.

"But surely you'll have a corsage or fascinator as well? It's a spring festival, isn't it? I suppose I should have something for my lapel, too."

‘Ah!’

‘He's thinking along just the same lines!’

"Yes, sir, but the day of the Gala, Tallyho market square is completely flooded with flower-sellers hawking the freshest flowers for Gala-goers. One of your guards can go out to gather for everypony in the group."

Anon raised an eyebrow. "And there's no risk of the sellers running out?"

She shook her head. "No, sir. The stalls pack up at noon and everything that's left is bought by the palace majordomo as final decorations for the Gala. And since the palace pays market price as a nod to generosity, the flower-sellers always have a lot of leftovers. Dozens of wagon-loads."

"Sounds exciting. And fragrant. It must get very busy?" Placing the jacketed record under his arm, he picked up the phonograph and its folding stand.

Artemis headed over to the patio doors to open them for him. "It's packed shoulder-to-shoulder and tail-to-muzzle; I've seen photos in the news. Pegasi and unicorn porters and errand-foals are in high demand that morning, filling orders for all the Gala invitees."

Anonymous stepped past her and deposited the musical device beside his armor stand. "I can imagine. You and the rest of the quaternion should talk it over to decide who'll make the run. I'll just have to figure out what I want."

‘Don't-tell-him-to-get-pink, don't-tell-him-to-get-pink, don't-tell-him-to-get-pink.’

"A bright spring color would look nice on you, sir. Maybe pink?"

‘YOU TOLD HIM TO GET PINK!’

‘What’s gotten into you??’

As he removed his jacket and placed it on a hanger, he looked over at the pegasus inquisitively.

‘Does he know why I made that suggestion?’

Anonymous just smiled and nodded. "Maybe."

‘He knows!’

Oooh, for being not-a-pony, he sure could be coy like a romance-novel colt, all right.

The Royal Engineer made to go change out of his Gala suit back into his usual outfit, but something in Artemis pushed her on. There was a nagging question in the back of her mind.

"Could I ask you a personal question, sir?"

Without stopping, he passed through the switchback of the low partition wall separating his office and living quarters from his bedroom area. "Of course, Specialist."

She heard the sound of a hanger on a rod.

‘I really shouldn't be asking this.’

It was personal, it was private, it was forward, and in the context of dancing with him and suggesting he match his lapel to her dress, it could be seen as flirtatious. And what did Honour say about flirting with the Royal Engineer?

'Playtime is over.'

‘Thundershowers.’

Well, this wasn't play; she was genuinely curious.

"How come you didn't dance at all when we were out on Tuesday?"

There was no reply for a little bit, so she continued on.

"Were you worried about embarrassing yourself?"

Another silent pause.

Then her VIP emerged back out from the partition, wearing his morning-dress outfit, collar and cuffs and tie still undone, and with a subdued expression.

He sighed, nodding. "Yes. I haven't been out in public a lot."

Artemis furrowed her brow, stepping forward. "But, sir, you gave a magnificent speech to everypony on Monday! They were all impressed; even flying over them, I could tell."

Anonymous shrugged. "Demonstrating something I know well isn't as nerve-wracking. I didn't really go clubbing a lot on my world. I danced at weddings and birthday parties, sure, but that was among friends." Adjusting his collar and attaching his gold cuff-links, he stepped over to his desk. "Not to mention among other humans. Besides, Tuesday night was for you and the rest of the quaternion. Nobody else seemed too keen on dancing, either."

Probably because Lily couldn't get enough booze poured down her throat fast enough. And Honour -- she was sulking over her situation with her coltfriend, Artemis was sure. Ebonshield was happy to play along with whatever the group wanted.

Artemis was the only one who got up.

It was strange -- she’d felt drawn to the dance floor, but she didn't particularly want to dance. Something about the heat and the perspiration of all those young colts and mares dancing freely just made her feel so excited.

So alive.

With each club they’d visited, the pain of her recently-shattered relationship seemed to wash away. And she didn't shy away from any of the colts who'd introduced themselves. She had felt like she had to say she was waiting for somepony else to dance with first, or they'd have dragged her out on the floor, but that hadn't stopped them from inundating her with calling cards and offers of drinks if her date didn't show. Frankly it was a surprising and shocking experience -- with the way her large frame had been the object of ridicule growing up, she wasn't used to that kind of attention. Was it just attraction to the uniform, or was she actually radiating some alluring energy herself?

Whatever it was, it got so that eventually she had to find refuge from all the eager colts back at the private table the Royal Engineer had booked.

But him -- worried about being awkward? The way he always kept his cool, could wow a crowd of Royal Guard dignitaries, and could even slide around on a patio dance-floor?

Artemis shook her head. "I'm awfully sorry about that, sir. One of us should really have taken the first step and extended an invitation. I think you'd have had a great time on the dance floor. And with how quickly you've learned the Lipizzaner Waltz you shouldn't worry about being embarrassed at all."

Sitting down, he smiled warmly. "It's kind of you to say that. But you really don't think we'd have looked a little funny, an alien biped dancing with his four guardsmares?"

She straightened up immediately. "No, sir! And shame on anyone who would think otherwise! That's the motto of the VIP Section, after all: 'Honi Soit Qui Mal y Pense,' or 'Shame on Whoever Thinks Ill of It,' referring to the practice of providing visiting dignitaries and honored citizens with a retinue."

He cocked an eyebrow. "I see. Tell me, is the Gala all formal folk and ball dances, or will there be modern dancing such as we saw at the nightclubs as well?"

Artemis had never seen photographic evidence of modern dance at the Gala, but according to 'Canterlot Match' magazine, that's because the palace guards escorted the paparazzi off the premises before it started. Still, there were anonymously-written reports of the scandalous behaviour that could result when a party full of Equestria's drunken elite started dancing to modern hits queued up by some of the nation's finest DJs. And she’d also seen the scheduled events, posted up in the palace servants' mess.

Everything from 10 PM onwards just said 'music & dancing.'

"I believe so, sir. After dinner and the scheduled events."

"Good. I won't miss a second opportunity, then. I don't want to toot my own horn, but you know, even though I didn't dance often…" He grinned. "...I did have a reputation for tearing it up on the dance floor."

‘Tearing what up?’

It must just be some human expression; probably because of their fingers.

She just nodded as if she knew what he was talking about. "I'd like to see that, sir. Would it be all right if I go change back into my armor, now?"

Anonymous lifted a trio of sealed envelopes up from his desk. "Of course, but I was wondering if perhaps you'd be able to deliver a few letters for me this morning as part of your duties?"

She nodded and approached. "Certainly, sir."

Extending a feathery appendage, Artemis accepted the memos and tucked them underwing.

"The first one is for Henry Fortstable here in Canterlot. The second one is for the smith, Gunther Bronzehorn, out in Newcastle-Upon-Mare. Both ask if they'd be willing to send someone to join our 'ground crew' for the Grand Mêlée, as Lieutenant Kilfeather suggested -- Fortstable's coach builders for the carriage and Bronzehorn for our arms and armor, naturally. I know it's a long flight out to Newcastle-Upon-Mare, but I figured that perhaps you could make short work of it with that rocket-lance of yours?"

She gave a quick salute, despite being completely out of uniform. "Yes, sir. It's not meant for endurance journeys, but it will certainly speed up my travel time. And the third letter, sir?"

With his elbows on the desk, he placed his fingers together. "That one's not about the games. I want some magic support when it comes to the foundry; a lot of early industrial processes are very dirty to run without complicated equipment which is beyond our ability to manufacture, and that's just the sort of thing that unicorn magic could perhaps help out with. This fellow was recommended to me by Purse Strings. He runs a company that, I gather, has a number of government contracts already: a unicorn colt by the name of Martingale."

That didn’t really ring any bells, but then again, Artemis didn't know much about government procurement contracts.

"Anyways, his residence is in Canterlot and while I know the regular mail service here is startlingly quick, I figured that perhaps delivery by a messenger-bodyguard would be an extra special touch and impress upon him the seriousness of this undertaking. Even if he's not at home when you arrive."

‘That's a good idea.’

"Yes, sir. Don't worry, sir. I'll go change into my armor and have these delivered so fast I'll be back before lunchtime!"

Her VIP leaned back in his chair, content. "Thank you, Specialist. Mister Songwell should be along shortly to give his daily report, and I know how the Corporal gets if I'm unescorted down here. I wouldn't mind commiserating with someone on the capabilities of unicorn magic; I suppose Specialist Glamerspear would be the most experienced in that respect?" He shrugged. "Or maybe Corporal Bound is. She seems to know everything about how things work around here. Ask for them both if neither of them is otherwise occupied. I've got most of my paperwork finished for now, and there are options to explore, so I'm in a chatty mood."

"Yes, sir."

With another quick out-of-reg salute, Artemis swished her tail and her tulle dress right out the door, making quickly for the stairs. Unfortunately she couldn't fly without losing his letters, and she had no purse or saddle-bags to put them in right now, either.

‘Do I have a matching purse for the Gala?’

She hadn’t thought about that. Not that she was going to have to worry about a wallet, but there were small items that she’d want to be able to carry. Hairbrush, comb, wingbrush, touch-up makeup, those sorts of things. Maybe Lily had something in her extensive wardrobe she could borrow.

As Artemis wondered about the finishing touches on her Gala outfit, she pushed open the door to their shared chambers and was surprised to see only Lily, lounging on the sofa, forelegs behind her head and a gossip magazine held in her telekinetic grip.

She looked up at Artemis, lifting her eyebrows as if scandalized. "Showing off the goods to the Royal Engineer, huh? What'd he think?"

"He said the dress was lovely. But actually I put it on so we could practice the Lipizzaner Waltz steps; he put on his Gala suit too."

Lily grinned and lifted an eyebrow. "Oh yeah? The Corporal said it was pretty ritzy."

Artemis nodded. "It is. Where is she, by the way?"

The unicorn jerked a forehoof behind her, towards the palace's central wings. "The palace library. Said she was going to do some research on the Games, like how Anonymous asked us to do. I asked her to bring back some stuff for the rest of us to look over, too."

"Oh. And Sergeant Ebonshield?"

That same forehoof waved towards the gardens. "The Rookery. She went to go do an errand, said she'd be back in a couple of hours. We hit up the commissary first, after breakfast, and she grabbed some candy, smokes, dip, and magazines so I guess she's bribing somepony down there."

"Oh. Well, I guess that means you're on duty downstairs for his meeting with Mister Songwell. Anonymous wants me to deliver some letters for him and it'll take me until just before lunch."

The unicorn telekinetically tossed the magazine onto the coffee table beside her. "Sweet. I was kinda getting bored up here with nothing to do at the moment. You're suiting up for your mail run, right? It may look good, but that dress is fragile. Friggin' tulle."

"Of course, Lily. I wouldn't want to undo your good work. But on that subject..." Artemis pointed a forehoof at her outfit. "...I just realized I should have a bag to go with this, shouldn't I? Do you have something maybe I could borrow?"

As Lily got up and started for her room, she shot Artemis a grin. "That's my mare, Sparks, always thinking about the next accessory. When you get back from your trip and we're both off duty, come step into your big sister Lily's room and we'll see what treasures I've got in my trunk. I'm sure I can do you up something nice."

‘Oh, good.’

Like a good forecast, this was so exciting; she couldn't wait for the weekend! She just had to make sure she didn't forget the Lipizzaner Waltz dance steps. And she wondered what flower the Royal Engineer would decide for his lapel boutonnière...

Honour told Artemis to get herself 'sorted out' before doing anything flirtatious with the Royal Engineer, and to make sure she was serious about whatever she proposed. Well, she felt sorted out, and the pegasus was absolutely serious about what she wanted.

She wanted to dance with her handsome gentlecolt VIP, and she was going to do just that.

Suggested interlude music: Whitney Houston - I Wanna Dance With Somebody (Who Loves Me) [1987]
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eH3giaIzONA

Chapter 130 Author's Note

Warning: This chapter includes depictions of non-consensual sexual activity.

Chapter 130

Lily Glamerspear

For Specialist Lily Glamerspear, life was pretty good. She was going to the Grand Galloping Gala, she’d been on the Moon, and she was learning a crazy (and dangerous) new kind of magic. She liked her exciting job, she liked her loyal comrades, and she liked her smart commander.

Everything was rosy.

Or... Lily.

‘Nah, that doesn't work.’

Sparkshower was such a pegasister that she actually had an argument with Glamerspear about resuming her shift once she got back from delivering Anon's letters. After taking over Sparks' job guarding her Very Important Pony -- who wasn't actually a pony -- for his meeting with the probationary criminal Songwell, Lily was perfectly content to keep it up until the four-o'clock shift change. Artemis was having none of it, though, and when she found out that Glam hadn't gone for a lunch break on account of the meeting time, well, that gave her the upper hoof in the argument; the pegasus had hit up the chow hall for a quick bite before reporting in, so she insisted on returning to duty. Even though Lily owed her more than just a few hours' relief for what Artemis went through for her -- and what she was, to an extent, still going through -- the unicorn could tell she wasn't going to back down.

So it was Morning Dawn, Evening Dusk once again as they changed places. Anyways, it wouldn't have been nice to argue loudly in front of the Royal Engineer. Especially over something so silly as who should have the honor of guarding him for the next few hours.

Or maybe he'd have taken it as a compliment? A couple of young mares tussling over who gets to stand guard in front of his doors had to be a little flattering, right?

‘Heh.’

Pushing open the door to their shared chambers, Lily found them just as empty as they’d been when she and Sparkshower had left earlier. Honour didn't seem to have gotten back from the library, and Eb wasn't back from her Rookery run, either.

‘Oh, well. Looks like I’m still on relief standby.’

‘Guess that means it's just me, my magazines, and my bellyful of mess hall lunch leftovers up here.’

"Urp."

‘Oof.’

She might've overdone it a bit back there. She was still dealing with a bit of undersleep after Tuesday's bender and Wednesday's early-morning sewing spree, and that had a tendency to make her hungry. She needed to make sure to get some good rest tonight.

Tomorrow, she had to deal with Valiant Kilfeather in all his ‘glory,’ and Lily needed to be in top mental shape. Even if the Royal Engineer's browbeating two days ago had left him subdued, she knew it won't be long before he got on her nerves again. Lily held no illusions that a single dressing-down, no matter how firmly it was delivered or how tall and imposing the hairless biped was who delivered it, would keep Val in his place forever.

As she casually removed her helmet and telekinetically tossed it onto a cushion, Lily loosened the straps on her main cuirass, pulled it off, and draped it over the back of the sofa. May as well keep these close at hoof in case there was another call for help downstairs; it wasn’t like there was anypony else in here to complain about her stuff being strewn about in the common room.

Lily lay down on the sofa and tucked into the latest edition of 'Canterlot Match.’ It was the pre-Gala issue, of course -- a special Thursday edition with all the rumors and gossip heading into the weekend. Who's going with who, who's bucking who, and dozens of shots of assorted pre-Gala parties. Monday's issue would be full of colour spreads of the main event.

Who knows? Maybe one of them, or at least their VIP, would wind up in one of those photos. Canterlot Match thrived on a good scandal, but their bread and butter was covering the ordinary lives of Equestria's upper crust.

As she perused glossy articles about wealthy socialites, mostly unicorns, partying in their very-good-but-not-quite-best outfits, a few stories stood out in particular.

"The D'Image-Freehawk family feud finally boiled over when the D'Images planned a huge costume party at their new second-tier Canterlot mansion last weekend and refused to invite the Freehawks, having been victim of Freehawk-enforced snubs up until now. It appears that old money couldn't stand the idea of being left out of an event this big and eventually caved; after a social call, the families are apparently reconciled and there will no longer be a split in the city's grand events."

‘Unicorn nobles playing games like fillies in a schoolyard.’

‘Typical.’

Blue-blooded ponies really weren't any better than ordinary red-bloods.

"A unique show was on display Tuesday night-"

‘This had better not be about the Royal Engineer and our drunken escapade!’

"-at a vacant warehouse down in the docks district, turned into a pop-up party with eclectic performances and avant-garde art for the city's elite. Canterlot Match has been told several prominent unicorns were in attendance, but as masks and mark-coverings were mandatory we can only present photos without names."

‘Huh.’

It looked like a pretty crazy time. What else would she expect from a one-night-only affair, though?

As Lily flipped the page, there was a knock at the door.

"Coming!"

It couldn't be any of her comrades -- they'd have come right in. It couldn’t be the Royal Engineer, either -- he'd be accompanied by Artemis, who'd probably call out. A messenger, maybe?

Lily opened the door to find an attractive, middle-aged colt in full Royal Guard armor. It was Captain Montgomery Mailedhoof, her salt-lick. Unsure as to the circumstances of this visit, she gave a standard salute as she quickly scanned the corridor behind him.

"Captain, sir!"

The hallway was empty.

‘What's he doing up here now?’

"I thought you were on duty Thursday afternoons?"

Mailedhoof nodded. "I am on duty, Specialist." Grinning, he snickered. "But I can't stand being around all those mareish decorators nattering as they set up for the Gala. And I'm tired of tripping over all their reams of tapestries and running into all their ladders and scaffolds." He tilted his head backwards, looking the specialist up and down. "So I thought I'd get away from that for a spell to pay you a visit and maybe see what that rather oversized bill from Louis Valise has bought me."

‘So he's been driven away from his post by the party coordinators?’

Not a very good excuse; then again, officers in the Royal Guard, particularly nobles, and especially ones assigned to garrison duty, got away with it all the time. Common soldiers could get corporal punishment for dereliction of duty, but nobleponies generally got away with it with scarcely more than a slap on the fetlock. The thing was, Lily belonged to the former category, and she was Sparkshower's only backup.

"I can't go anywhere right now. I'm on hot standby in case they need me downstairs. And I'm the only one available."

He snorted. "Who said anything about leaving? I've got nowhere to take you anyways. My stateroom's been given over to some visiting dignitary, and with my family in Canterlot, I can't be seen with you, either."

‘So he wants into my quarters?’

She generally didn’t receive her salt-licks in her own chambers...

After all, they were supposed to be the wealthy socialites with mansions or staterooms -- or at least the biggest tent in the camp. She was the one with an enlisted soldier's bunk -- having an actual bed, not to mention an actual private room, was a real luxury upgrade here in the palace. And it wasn’t like she kept her room in a state to receive visitors. Not that it was filthy or anything, just, y'know, it didn't put her best hoof forward.

The colt noticed Lily’s hesitation and stepped forward. "Aren't you going to invite me in, Specialist?"

She swallowed. "I'm not alone in here -- well, I am right now, Captain, but the others could get back anytime."

Mailedhoof snorted with disdain. "What, is the lowborn specialist worried that her patrician captain will embarrass her?" He settled into a smirk. "Anyways, I just want to see the dress, and you in it. It'll be difficult to see you in it on Saturday, at least up close and in good light."

‘Well…’

‘Okay.’

Honour said she might not get back until dinner, and who knew when the Sergeant would emerge from the Rookery. It was the middle of the afternoon, and if Mailedhoof was only here for a quarter of an hour there was a good chance she wouldn't be interrupted. Lily nodded and stepped back, letting him in and shutting the door behind her.

Surveying the common room, Mailedhoof undid the chin-strap of his helmet. "I heard about your charge's little demonstration on Monday. Rumor has it the general staff were very impressed."

Smiling at the compliment, Lily led him towards her room.

The captain gave a slight smirk. "Not bad for only one unicorn, backed up by just two pegasi."

‘If he thinks that Eb is just another pegasus, that's good news for her disguise.’

Lily indicated the corporal's quarters with a nod of her head. "There's actually four of us, now, Captain. A full quaternion."

He just scoffed as she opened her door. "I know. And I'm sure the mudder pulled her weight, but that's all they're good for, anyways."

Lily halted for a moment and almost tripped over her own hooves, before carrying on as if nothing had happened.

‘He just called Corporal Bound, my earth pony comrade, the 'm-word.'’

‘Not to mention the rest of that offensive sentence…’

She’d certainly met her share of supremacist plot-holes in the rank and file of her all-unicorn 'cornfield' artillery regiment, but to hear a noblepony officer with a high station in the palace guard casually toss out such an insult was a shock.

‘And about one of my comrades!’

That put her in a bad mood.

‘This had better be a quick show.’

Lily indicated her writing desk and chair while she opened her wardrobe and pulled out the bagged dress at the front. "Have a seat, Captain. Why don't I get changed next door?"

Mailedhoof shut the door behind him.

"Right here is fine."

‘Of course.’

‘Well, all right, then.’

‘The things I do for a Louis Valise…’

It was a gorgeous dress, but Lily was starting to wonder if she should have just gotten something last-season from the outlet mall at Hackney Trot.

‘No sense crying about that now.’

She telekinetically yanked the matching sandals out from underneath her bed. As Mailedhoof plonked himself down in Lily’s chair, dropping his helmet on her desk, she quickly slipped everything on. She’d already removed her armor earlier, so a few telekinetic manipulations and a quick flick of her mane had her all set. The only thing she hadn't taken off was her Silver Ram, but it went with the outfit. And besides, she was going to wear it to the Gala.

The Louis Valise was a black summer cocktail dress with cutouts at the side and a flared, translucent, accordion bottom, with matching three-ring gladiator sandals adorned with nickel-silver studs. A stunning look against her Prench-pink coat, and nicely complimented her teal-and-cyan mane and tail. It was an aggressively hot dress, and very summery, particularly for breezy Canterlot, but the weekend forecast called for heat, and who had ever heard of a busy late-night dance floor that wasn't positively tropical? If she got a few shocked looks from overdressed old mares before dinner, who cared? Her outfit would come into its own once the DJ started spinning discs.

Anyways, the unicorn had a few options for black scarves and shawls that matched, if it was too chilly or if she felt underdressed, and her regulation uniform's black foul-weather cloak would do just fine as an outdoor cover -- to be disposed of at the coat check as soon as she arrived, of course.

Lily turned sideways and looked over her shoulder at the leisurely-reclining colt who’d paid for the getup, pursing her lips and arching her eyebrows. Mailedhoof liked what he saw, she could tell.

And not just from the grin on his face.

He casually waved his left forehoof in a circle. "Let's have the full show."

His positive reaction put Lily in a better mood despite his earlier offences, so she proceeded to give an impression of a runway walk. Professional models probably didn't try to sway their hips and shoulders as much as she did, though. Remembering the poses she’d just done with Sparkshower, Lily tried out a few herself. Sitting on her haunches, one forehoof just underneath her tuft, staring dispassionately to one side. Then she backed up against the door and stood up on her hind hooves, forehooves pressed against the frame, and wearing a come-hither stare. Then she gave him the old classic of backing up against the chair, looking over her shoulders, and with a half-lidded smile of satisfaction, slowly bouncing her plot just in front of his crotch.

She felt a forehoof brush against her hindquarters, and playfully batted it away. "Ah-ah-ah, Captain, you're on duty."

Mailedhoof gave her a quick slap and leaned back in his chair. "But you're not. And a mare like you gets excited as soon as a colt like me walks in the room." He lifted an eyebrow, continuing, "I'm sure you feel the need to relax a bit."

Nodding towards the bed, he puts a forehoof at the base of his barrel. "Since I'm on duty, I'll dutifully keep watch."

‘Really?’

‘He expects me to just lie down and clop right in front of him, like I’m working at some red-light peepshow deep in the lower tiers?’

Lily furrowed her brow.

‘Can I really say 'no' to him, though?’

This was an awfully expensive dress, and she’d added on the sandals, too.

The captain knew he was in charge, and his smile started to fade. "I'm waiting, Specialist."

‘Fine.’

A few minutes of pretending to work and a few good squeals ought to reassure his ego that he was Celestia's gift to mares. Her horn lit up and she started to undress.

"Ah-ah-ah. Stay in uniform when you're in the presence of an officer, Specialist."

‘Seriously?!’

This time she talked back. "I don't want to get it dirty right before the Gala, Captain."

But he didn’t care. "You are dirty, Specialist. Filthy dirty, like Canterlot's gutters after the first rains." His expression turned mean. "And if you make a mess you can't clean, find a bucking drycleaner. It's only Thursday. Show me what I paid for."

The colt was dead serious.

Here she was, in the privacy of her own room, in the middle of the afternoon, being forced to obey the commands of her forceful salt-lick. What was Lily to do? Turn him out, and risk the consequences of crossing a powerful noblepony officer? And what if he refused to go? Would she have to get physical? That could lead to even worse consequences.

As much as Lily wasn't in the mood to do what he asked, it wasn't completely out of line for a saltine-and-salt-lick relationship. Like every other enlisted unicorn kept on a tight leash by their drill instructor, she knew a couple of basic spells to get stains and smells out of clothes. Even if she had to send it out to be cleaned, there wasn't any real risk of her showing up to the Gala with a dirty dress.

It just felt disrespectful to dirty it before wearing it on the big night.

Yeah, Captain Mailedhoof paid for it, and Lily bought it intending to show it off to him, but it was her dress now, and maybe she was planning to show it off to more than just the colt with the letter of credit. But here he was, insisting on leaving a mark, like claiming her, or at least it, as his property.

‘Whatever.’

She climbed up on the bed and rolled over onto her back.

‘Just get this over with and he'll be gone.’

Mailedhoof would be too busy to see Lily again until after the Gala, and if she still felt sore about this, she could break things off then if she wanted. The specialist wriggled a bit on the bed, trying to get comfortable, and also trying to keep as much of the skirt out of the way of any possible mess.

"Quit stalling. You know you want it."

‘Yeah, yeah.’

With a deep breath, she closed her eyes and lit up her horn. Lily couldn't fake the whole thing -- this couldn’t possibly be the first time Mailedhoof had made a unicorn partner pleasure herself for his amusement; he'd know what the real deal looks like. So she started for real, delicately probing around with her telekinesis, looking for the right spot.

‘Ahh--there it is.’

She brushed her force against it.

‘This is wrong -- this isn't how I want to do this.’

‘Just lay back and think sexy thoughts.’

‘Handsome colts with bulging croups and powerful hips.’

‘And just the right size of instrument to hit the right places inside you.’

Lily’s mind wandered back her first field posting after 'shoe camp. A fortified regimental camp out in the wilderness, packed full of cramped tents.

With co-ed showers.

And guardscolts with not much more to do but drill and work out all day. Those bulky earth pony colts bursting at the seams with muscles, the toned pegasi colts who could flap all night long, and the unicorn colts who didn't need telekinesis to sweep a mare off her hooves. Oh, how Lily and the other fresh-faced private Miss So-and-sos used to gawk and titter. She remembered the hot summer nights, and the search for a few moments of privacy somewhere inside the palisade walls.

A few moments of privacy for a few moments of pleasure.

If it hadn't been for easy access to contraceptive herbs, Lily was certain every mare in the camp would have been pregnant. And for a lot of them, it would have been impossible to identify the father, too.

"~Ahhh~"

She let out a breathy moan as if she’d just hit the next level. Which was not to say she wasn't starting to enjoy herself, but it was going to take a lot more than just some hot memories to make up for the low she’d started at. At least there was plenty of lubrication now. But that just made her more self-conscious about spillage onto the dress.

‘No, Lily, come on, just focus on finishing this up.’

‘Mailedhoof wants a slutty little mare winking and dripping at the mere thought of him, so give it to him and be done.’

"~Hhh~"

Lily switched up her stroke a bit and a tingle shot up her spine, resulting in another squeak of pleasure. In spite of herself, she started to work faster.

Maybe the easiest way to fake an orgasm would be to have a real one. Last time she’d clopped like this, it was after Mailedhoof had left her unsatisfied. Her thoughts had turned to the Royal Engineer.

‘Mmm…’

She thought of him working all night in the carriage house Sunday night, his hairless skin slick with sweat. And the way he suplexed the Sergeant… He could lift any of them, easily, in those big, strong arms. But he wasn't just some brutish minotaur; he had finesse. Sparkshower said he'd easily picked up the Lipizzaner Waltz steps. She said he 'glided' around the patio.

‘Gliding, that's the word.’

Smooth and slick, but just coarse and firm enough to make things interesting. Lily imagined having her flanks squeezed, his arms wrapped around her barrel.

"~Nnn~"

That got another moan out of her, and she went up another level. Now she was panting, and she opened her eyes, turning to see that Mailedhoof was starting to sweat a bit at his brow. Looking away, Lily shut her eyes and returned to fantasy, further quickening the pace.

Anonymous would be a caring lover, she was sure of it. He was too nice not to be. But when he got riled up, like how he shut down Val…

A gentle hoof, but firm when it needed to be.

Lily imagined his hands on her mane, fingers running through it. Would he know to give a tug now and then? Or to place one hand just so under her chin, so she could feel each potent thrust all the way from her back to her front?

She didn't like it too rough.

Sparkshower, kinky as she was, would want to have the sex choked and beaten into her, Lily was certain. The unicorn just wanted it done with emphasis, that's all. The slight sense of surrender to power, tempered with the reassurance of tenderness. And he wouldn't stop until she was satisfied. Even as he came closer and closer -- reaching the limits of his endurance inside of her. He'd find a way to last, or if he couldn't…

If he couldn't resist releasing inside of her...

"~Mmmmm~"

Panting and gasping for air… He'd come back with a second shot.

Or maybe…

Maybe he could use those fingers of his to finish the job. Those delicate, probing, digits.

Lily bit her lip and went full speed.

"~Unnnn~"

Each telekinetic flick was from his fingers.

The bed beneath her was his firm chest.

The warm breeze blowing in the window was his hot breath.

She heard him whisper into her ears, how he wanted her, how he needed to satisfy her, and how she satisfied him.

"~Nnnng!~"

All thoughts of the unicorn’s present situation disappeared entirely as she lost herself in the wonderful scene.

‘Remember, Lily, he can gallop for hours.’

"~Mnnnnffff!~"

‘Hours and hours and hours--’

Lily couldn't breathe.

"~Aaaahh! Mmmmmnnnnnnggnnngfngnnn~"

Clenching and breathless, she rolled over to face the wall.

‘Celestia.’

Never mind the mess from the clop, the cold sweat at her withers would really do a number on the delicate fabric of the Louis Valise dress.

She felt something brush against the back of her mane.

‘Not yet, Anon, I need a minute.’

‘Wait--’

Opening her eyes, Lily turned her head to find her mane gently held in Mailedhoof's silver, telekinetic grip.

He stared at her with an excited grin. "That was pretty good. You must really want it. Come over here and I'll give you a taste."

She felt a telekinetic pull towards him.

‘Seriously?’

A clop show wasn't enough; now he wanted to be serviced, too. Rolling back over, Lily dismounted the bed and quickly fluffed her mane back in place.

‘Fine, a quick suck ought to do it.’

With the method-acting performance she’d given, he must be ready to burst at this point, anyways. She sat down on her haunches in front of the chair and lowered her head towards the Captain's drawn sword.

"Just hold it there. I'll get you what you need."

‘What's this now?’

A telekinetic glow captures his erect member -- and it wasn’t Lily’s.

‘He's just going to jerk himself off in front of me?’

‘What's the point of this?’

She felt a second telekinetic grasp around her head, and a third one pry her jaw open. As Mailedhoof rubbed himself out, Lily was forced to sit there with her mouth open, ready to receive. He didn't even ask, just grabbing her like she was some cheap whorse.

‘Buck!’

‘My Silver Ram!’

She was still wearing her Order of the Ram medallion! The dress was bad enough, but she was not going to let him soil that! Lily lit up her horn and started to undo the clasp behind her neck, only to find another telekinetic aura countering hers.

‘No, no, no!!’

"Wait! I don't-"

"You want this, whorse, you want this! So take all of it!"

As he spewed the denigrating words from his mouth, Lily was forced to receive thick spurts of his hideous load. She shut her eyes but his magical grip prevented her from turning, and she felt the spray splatter on her muzzle, in her mouth, and down her neck.

‘Not on the medal!’

‘Not the one thing that reminds me I’m worth something!’

‘No…’

When the squirting was done, Lily was briefly released from his telekinetic grasp, before being roughly shoved backwards against the bed. Mailedhoof immediately got to his hooves and collected his helmet. Then he left, shutting the door behind him without saying another word to her.

Lily sat in shock.

‘He didn't…’

Trembling, she looked down.

He did.

A gob of that monster's vile discharge dribbled down her Silver Ram.

Lily was overtaken by a sudden feeling of utter revulsion, and scrambled towards her wastebasket.

"Huuuuuuuugh! Blurghghhh!"

An unhealthy dollop of the mess hall's leftovers wound up inside, but after holding her muzzle over that first wad for a few moments, she mercifully didn't feel the need to completely unload.

Lily collapsed to the floor in tears.

‘What did I just let happen?!’

‘He just…’

‘Used me.’

The truth was suffocating.

She didn't sign up for this.

Being a saltine was supposed to be fun.

Fun for both sides.

Drinks, parties, baubles and fashion, and rolling around in the hay.

Now she’d just been used like a disposable prophylactic, and just as unceremoniously discarded.

It was deliberate, too.

In his own words, she was nothing more than his filthy gutter-whorse. And for what?

Another expensive dress to stuff into her already full-to-bursting wardrobe. And this one was ruined, if only by the horrid memories.

‘What the buck am I doing with all this?’

Wiping her tears, she sat up. Struggling a bit, she took a look at her chair, soiled by Mailedhoof's presence alone. With a single telekinetic blast, she shoved it to one side and stepped up to her desk.

Lily looked at herself in her makeup mirror.

‘You're disgusting.’

‘Pathetic.’

‘This is the best you could do?’

‘An enlisted soldier, not even a noncommissioned officer, whorsing herself out to jerkwad noblecolts?’

Lily gazed at the reflection of her desecrated medallion. That was the only thing she had which was really worth something.

It wasn't just some expensive trinket.

Even if she hadn't really acknowledged it until recently, it was the one thing Lily could cling to, to say she had accomplished something in her life.

And that bastard had sprayed his seed all over it against her will.

Lily delicately removed the medallion and, sniffing back tears, immediately lit up her horn to clean and polish it. In short order all physical traces of the goop were obliterated.

It looked as good as new.

But in her mind, it had still been irrevocably defiled. 'Centurion of the Order of the Ram' was supposed to mean a pony who had stood up for Equestria in the face of extreme danger. Now it had been made a badge of shame and weakness.

‘Buck, why am I even in the Royal Guard?!’

Her mom scraped and saved enough to send all three of her older brothers to college, and was ready to do the same for Lily, but no, she had to rebel. She didn't want books and study, she wanted action and adventure.

‘Well, here's your action, Lily Glamerspear.’

‘Aren't you enjoying your adventure?’

Staring at herself in the mirror, she telekinetically grabbed a tissue and quickly wiped the rest of the mess off of her coat. As with the medal, the fluids were gone, but the mental stains remained.

‘You could've made something of yourself.’

‘When you put your mind to learning a spell, you’re great at it!’

‘Look at how you did gunning down Val at the Pas-De-Sabots, or liquidating all those batpony 'meteors' when they ambushed you! And even if you can't remember it, you must've done something fantastic during the Changeling Invasion to have earned the Silver Ram.’

‘But when you lazed about…’

‘Then you got caught flat-hoofed by some bucker who could strongly TK four things at once and didn't give two bucks what you thought about anything.’

Reverently, Lily reached a hoof over to her medal's presentation case. She flipped it open and placed the Silver Ram inside, folding the ribbon just as it had been when she received it. She was done wearing that for today.

She turned her gaze once more to the mirror.

‘I can be better than this.’

Who said she had to stay a soldier in the Royal Guard the rest of her life? She had another year left in her enlistment; she could cash out and go to college instead of just re-enlisting, if she wanted to. Buck, if she learned more of this Shadow-magic from Ignacio, she could probably do more than just attend college. There was probably some way to leverage that into an actual career -- teaching, demonstrating, that sort of thing. Maybe even still within the Royal Guard, if she still wanted the uniform and the action..

Well, whatever else Lily might decide, she knew for certain she was done with Montgomery Mailedhoof.

And done with the business of being a saltine, too.

What did a mare need with more shiny baubles, anyways, if in the end the only thing of value she had was her Silver Ram? Or even more than that, her faithful comrades-in-arms? Lily still owed Sparkshower for being possessed on her behalf. And she’d owe her more if she did it again for another lesson.

"Hey! Anypony here?" The pegasister in question called out as she entered the common room.

Lily took a deep breath to settle herself down. "Just a minute, Sparks!"

Quickly, she scrambled out of the soiled dress, and gave it a quick once-over.

‘Yeah, there isn’t much mess. My own magic should be plenty.’

The unicorn gave some of the obvious spots a quick blast of cleaning-rays. Then she put it back on its hangar and hung it on the outside of the wardrobe door to air out. She was about to head for the door when she remembered she was still wearing her sandals.

‘Oops -- better take those off, too.’

When Lily finally emerged into the common room, she found Sparkshower in the process of removing her armor.

"Hi, Lily. Sergeant Ebonshield got back from the Rookery and relieved me a little early. Wasn't that nice of her? Seems like all of us want to guard the Royal Engineer!"

She’d dodged a cannonball with the batpony not having come up here first. A shiver ran up Lily’s spine as she imagined the discomfort of Ebonshield arriving while she was mid-moan.

Sparkshower tilted her head at the unicorn, furrowing her brow. "Are you okay? Were you having a nap? Sorry if I woke you!"

Lily shook her head. "It's okay, Sparks. I'm fine."

Glancing at the clock, she saw it was barely three o'clock. Ebonshield relieved Sparkshower a full hour early. But the pegasus wouldn't let Lily take over her shift almost two hours ago!

‘This disaster wouldn't have happened if I’d been on duty…’

Lily could hardly blame her for it, though.

Artemis sniffed the air.

‘Oh, no.’

"Hey -- Is that...? Are you sure you're okay? It smells like someone was sick in here."

‘No sense arguing with her sense of smell.’

"Yeah, sorry. I over-ate a little at lunch and had to let some of it out in the bin. I'll wash it out in a minute."

She didn’t buy that excuse. "Are you sure you're okay? You don't... You don't have the 'dawn sickness' too, do you?"

Lily grinned. "No. It's a little late for dawn, Sparks."

"Oh, right..." She furrowed her brow more and looked left and right. "...Uh... It's not the other kind of dawn sickness, is it?"

On the one hoof, Lily thought that was a ridiculous proposition, but on the other, it was heartwarming having somepony who was so concerned about her. "It's not morning sickness, either. I'm not dumb, ya know. I use protection and take the herbs."

"Right, okay! Sorry! It's just that back in the regiment, our first sergeant was always very specific in the weekend liberty briefs about being safe about... those sorts of things."

Lily chuckled. "Sparks, every first sergeant says that stuff. They know how much trouble the average guardspony can get into. But believe me, I'm not an average guardspony -- none of us are, or we wouldn't be here, ya know?"

Indicating the palace around her, Lily sidled up and elbowed Artemis in the ribs.

She laughed. "Yeah. Sorry, Lily, I was just worried you might be hurt."

"Thanks, Artemis. I appreciate it -- I appreciate you. I don't think I've said that enough."

‘Huh…’

It was only three, and the chow hall opened in thirty minutes… Maybe there was time for an evening excursion into the Rookery -- and maybe onto the Moon? Lily could use another lesson. Only if Artemis was up for it, though.

"...Say, you got anything planned for tonight?"

The pegasus smiled. "You want to go back to Ignacio and Aldonza again, don't you? I'd be glad to come along -- only maybe this time we can skip the part involving me and the Accursed Shadow? I can handle it, but I don't want to feel sick for the Gala."

‘Fair enough.’

"Sure, Sparks. Come for the company this time. And don't forget your camera! The papers'll trip over each other for those pictures if you can get them out past DADT. Now, why don't you finish getting undressed and we'll head to the mess hall for dinner?"

She screwed up her muzzle. "But didn't you just say you and your lunch...? You're really hungry?"

Lily shrugged. "I'm not. I think I'll be skipping dinner today. But you can eat, and I'll be your company."

"Okay! It's a date!"

Sparkshower headed to her room to remove the rest of her armor, and Lily lent a hoof by telekinetically lifting up the pieces, as she’d done before.

‘Yeah. Buck Mailedhoof and buck salt-licks.’

‘Ya know what? Buck Louis Valise, too.’

‘I’m worth more than all of that.’

What Lily needed were loyal friends at her flanks and a challenge to overcome. She had the first in Sparkshower and the second in learning to master batpony Shadow-magic -- not to mention seeing her genuinely noble VIP's plans to fruition.

Lily Glamerspear's theme song: Fifth Harmony - Worth It ft. Kid Ink
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YBHQbu5rbdQ

Chapter 131

Something has gone wrong. We don't seem to have an archived copy of that chapter.

Chapter 132

Artemis Sparkshower

Specialist Artemis Sparkshower was… well, calm.

It was a bit of a surprise to her. The Gala was tomorrow -- she should have been excited about that. And she should have been at least a little nervous about performing the Lipizzaner Waltz, even though she’d practiced it again with the Royal Engineer that morning. Most of all, she should have been filled with anticipation for this meeting at one of the Equestrian Royal Guard's most storied locations: the artillery proving grounds, site of the MXP Games, and in particular the Grand Mêlée.

But she wasn’t.

Artemis just felt... calm.

Maybe it's because nothing was really supposed to happen today; just a discussion of the rules and an inspection of the battlefield -- and perhaps a look at one of the other competing teams conducting drills.

Or maybe it was because of last night's visit to the Moon with Lily.

As Artemis had requested, she hadn't been subject to possession. Her unicorn comrade had to content herself with repeated attempts to banish an 'unbound' Accursed Shadow. She sorta managed it in the end, making it go away after Ignacio had further restrained and exposed it. It was interesting to watch; maybe even a little funny, actually. While last time the presence of that black shape had been terrifying, this time Artemis had felt... well, nothing, really.

For all the first trip's terror of walking into a dark, claustrophobic place, where the walls of reality were weak, and where formless, magical, soul-eating monsters from another dimension readily crossed over, last night's trip to into the deep impact crater where Nightmare Moon had landed, the black pit the batpony 'Children of the Stars' referred to as the 'Well of Shadows,' had felt no more threatening than a simple partly-cloudy summer day. The kind with a high of 23 centigrade, with a gentle ten-kilometer-an-hour breeze out of the west, modest fifty percent humidity, and a manageable twenty percent chance of showers.

An everyday.

The Accursed Shadows which Ignacio Blazon summoned forth took pony forms last night again, yes. And a few of them even said a word or two while standing before the group, sometimes addressing one of them by name. But Artemis felt nothing -- no threat, no terror.

Was it just the knowledge that the monstrosities were as easily removed and banished as they were summoned, if one had the tools? Or, maybe any fears were offset by the joy from bringing Artemis’ 'Little Ludwig' camera along for the trip? She had taken, as far as she knew, the first photos of the Moon! Of Nightmare Moon's enormous impact crater, and of the mysterious Well of Shadows! And of Equestria, as seen from almost four hundred thousand kilometers away!

‘Talk about a postcard to send home to your parents!’

On the way back, she’d even taken a photograph with the Righteous Hatcheteer València Fierropezuña, who’d come on duty at the internal border-post while Artemis was out on the Moon. While the batpony was a little disappointed at having missed out on the gifts they’d brought for the guards on their way in -- more magazines, but this time candy and chewing gum instead of tobacco products -- she was curious about the boxy device hanging around Artemis’ neck.

So the pegasus took a photo with her.

None of the batponies were enthusiastic for the illumination provided by Glamerspear, who was behind the lens, but it had to be done if the photos were going to turn out at all. And Artemis was confident that they would -- perhaps later today when she went off duty. She’d promised València a copy.

Sighing, Artemis adjusted the weight of the Bradamante Lance in her hooves. When she wasn't using it to rocket forwards, it was actually a pretty heavy weapon. Flying with her armor on was challenging enough; she could manage, and manage well, even over long distances, but adding more weight pushed her closer to her limit. Maybe she ought to have brought her standard-issue lance instead.

Artemis really should have thought about the fact that she’d have to keep a slow pace with the Royal Engineer's Whirlwind below. It was fast, yes, but it wasn't "Anthony Theolonicus rocket-lance, crafted for Bradamante Growler" fast. She supposed she could just drop down and ride on the upper deck of the vehicle.

Sergeant Ebonshield was gliding along beside the pegasus, in her magical disguise as 'Sergeant Blackspear.' As much as Ebonshield felt comfortable walking around the palace -- or even the city -- exactly as she was, the Royal Artillery Proving Grounds was an active Royal Guard base outside the municipal limits. Don't-Ask-Don't-Tell was in full effect, and there might even be ponies there who had fought against the Children, or knew somepony who had fallen to their blades during the Summer Sun Celebration two years ago. Best not to provoke an incident by having a batpony on full display.

Even so...

Like a gusting wind, Artemis’ mind wandered to other possibilities. Imagine the confusion her group could cause if Eb wore that batpony-crafted, magical linothorax armor to look like a pegasus, while the real pegasus donned one of the medallions fashioned by Aldonza to make her look like an Eclipse-phase batpony! That would sure trip up their enemies during the Grand Mêlée!

‘It’s so crazy, maybe I ought to suggest it for real.’

As the Whirlwind finally reached the stone-paved main road, exiting Canterlot city proper, Artemis flapped her wings to better survey the hilly terrain. The area surrounding Canterlot was mostly farm estates of moderate size. Not as luxurious as the grand villas of the hinterlands, but not as small as the sharecropper villages further out. Each farm was unique in its own special way: by crop, or by layout, or by orientation, or by the home built upon it. The ponies here were examples of Equestria's agricultural middle class, with easy access to irrigation and a large market for their goods right at their doorstep. If not for the rules enforcing small-holdership on these lands, some rich noblepony would have surely consolidated all of the acreage. But, like Canterlot itself, these lands were carefully stewarded.

Just beyond a final rolling hill was a great green plain, where once the ancestors of today's nobility would meet to challenge each other in glorious battle -- and where some of their contemporary descendants still came today.

"This land, she is truly beautiful," the batpony-pegasus flying beside Artemis spoke up. "From the Moon, we can see the blue of the seas, and the green of the plants, and the clouds in the skies. She has always looked beautiful to us, this world of our ancestors, but watching her from so far away is far removed from witnessing her first-wing."

Ebonshield looked over at Artemis, gliding on her false feathery wings. "...I apologize. I have interrupted your thoughts."

The specialist shook her head. "No, no. I was also admiring the scenery. You know, there's a lot of romantic songs about Canterlot in the springtime."

"I am not surprised. What a wonder, the consequences of a war between siblings: on the Moon, it bred among the defeated a thousand years of hate and scheming for revenge, while here in Equestria, the victors built a paradise in memory of the loss."

Artemis had never thought about it that way. Canterlot, the 'new' capital, had been built due to the ruination of the Castle of the Two Sisters. New city, new palace, new location.

The old site had largely been left to rot.

But the sergeant was wrong if she thought the only legacy of that war was Canterlot.

"That's true. But there was also lingering fear here. Otherwise, you wouldn't even consider dressing up in that suit."

Humming in disagreement, Eb clicked her tongue against her teeth. "Hmmm, I think otherwise. The fear of which you speak was for the Nightmare Moon. I have seen the records and prophecies: the followers of the Great Mother were forgotten, perhaps deliberately so. After all, better to remember only a single villain than many hundred or thousands." Beating her illusory feathered wings with the sound of leathery flaps, she continued. "No; I wear the suit because of the actions of my people, for if we had not assaulted our brethren, then there would be no need to hide the existence of the Children from the rest of the Royal Guard."

That was probably true. But the way that the batponies were hidden was clumsy, at best. Everypony in the palace knew of them, even if all they knew was complete nonsense -- like the things Glamerspear had said when the sergeant first showed up.

"It can't last. If the four of us can get along without prejudice, so can everypony else. And Canterlot may be beautiful, Sergeant, but sad stories still happen here. I always thought a real paradise wouldn't have any sad stories."

"You are right, of course, on both counts. And perhaps I exaggerate to call this paradise, though she is still a marvel and a joy. Also, I should not be so critical of my own home; unfortunately, you have visited so far only a selection of the darkest pits the Moon has to offer. There are many places there which are beautiful, if in their own ways, as well."

"Maybe we'll visit them someday. I know it's not the Moon, but Honour did say that the Lunar Sanctuary in the Rookery was amazing."

"Yes. There are larger Sanctuaries on the Moon, but none of them are more finely built than the one here under the mountain."

A thought popped into Artemis’ head amid this discussion of batponies and everypony else.

"Sergeant... Purity... You won't be disguising yourself for the Gala, will you?"

"No, of course not. But perhaps for the great battle..."

The specialist smiled. "I was thinking about that. What a tactical advantage to be disguised, and what a shock when you reveal the truth!"

"Yes, this had occurred to me. The disguise suddenly discarded, the great confusion, and then the deadly strike before the quick withdrawal -- this is the strategy typical of the Stellar Dancers."

It was a good plan. They just had to figure out how to work it into something more comprehensive.

The Whirlwind made good speed on the country roads, and Honour deftly rounded the final corner before coming to a stop at the Proving Grounds' main gates. Off in the distance, Artemis could hear gunnery practice in session, great cannons firing balls off into a battered forest hill.

The pegasus-disguised batpony spoke up. "I believe we have arrived. Let us join our comrades."

By the time they’d descended to ground level, the guards had opened the gate, and one of them was giving directions to Honour. Artemis’ saboted hooves touched the wooden deck with a klump, while Sergeant Ebonshield alighted almost silently beside her.

Glamerspear spun her seat around to look back at the new arrivals. "Hey, Sparks. Hey, Sarge. How was your flight?"

"The lance is a little heavy when I'm not using it," Artemis admitted. "But it's a nice day out, and the fields are really pretty in the spring. I hope tomorrow's just as nice!"

Ebonshield only nodded in agreement.

As Honour guided the vehicle westward towards the main field, the morning sun caught their swivel-mounted unicorn comrade's face. Artemis couldn't help but notice how shiny Lily’s Silver Ram medal was today.

She must have applied some silver polish to it recently.

Could it have been in anticipation of the Gala? The pegasus didn't think she would wear the Ram to that, but she supposed the unicorn could; it was a very pretty medal, and a real accomplishment. But maybe she just wanted to look her best out here with the other Royal Guardsponies -- and Lieutenant Kilfeather.

Or maybe she wanted to impress any other competitors out reconnoitering the field; knowing they were up against a team which included a Centurion of the Ram could hurt their morale in their unit’s favor. It felt a little mean to do that, but this was a big deal! Artemis understood why Lieutenant Kilfeather spoke with such swagger -- he was a three-time Grand Mêlée winner, twice as a wingpony and once as a wing leader, and an achievement like that both inspired, and demanded, supreme confidence.

The Royal Engineer extended an arm to direct Corporal Bound to where they were supposed to go. Today he was wearing a tan suit -- the first time Artemis had seen him in anything but black, except for his armor and his work overalls.

It was actually a bit of a fuss this morning. Since it was sunny, he'd thought to wear white. Honour had to tell him that in Equestrian high society, white could only be worn after the Grand Galloping Gala and before Harmony Day. Late spring and summer, in other words. That sent their Very Important Pony, who wasn't actually a pony, into a bit of a tornado-spin.

For the first time, Artemis and the rest of her quaternion followed him into the other side of the room, beyond the movable partition wall. There wasn't really anything secret back there: just a bed with a trunk at the end, a large armoire, a dressing chair and table, and the door to his bathroom. Once she got there, she could only watch the Royal Engineer furiously riffle through his wardrobe. It wasn't as extensive a collection as Artemis had expected -- he really only had ten or so outfits compared to, say, Glamerspear's overflowing dozens -- but he just couldn't make up his mind.

Wear black?

But it was a warm, sunny day -- and anyways, his usual three-piece suit was too formal, his Gala suit was out of the question, and a white-tie tuxedo was similarly too much.

If he couldn’t wear white, then maybe navy blue? It was a nice-looking jacket, and the white pinstripes were very fashionable, but if he accompanied the four of them in their armor, he'd look like their manager, not their team leader. The same could be said for his grey tweed three-piece.

Yet he didn't think he should wear his armor -- and Artemis could understand why. They were all showing up in Royal Guard battle uniforms; they’d all fit right in at a Royal Guard base. A tall biped in blackened-bronze minotaur armor, with a red cape and maybe even his shield and heavy mace, would not.

In the end, Honour had to put her hoof down, and she stepped up to the wardrobe and picked out a tan 'safari'-style suit with four large pockets and a matching canvas belt worn around the outside. It was appropriate for the warm weather and, with the belt and pockets, looked vaguely military. A pith helmet would've completed the look if he'd had one, but he had to settle for its matching straw hat with an indented crown, plucked off a hat tree adjacent to the armoire.

The whole scene took just a couple of minutes, but it was such a funny moment: the Royal Engineer, so cool under fire and so collected when executing his duties, frazzled by having to select a suit at the last second. That sort of stereotypical coltish behavior ponified him a bit more, in Artemis’ mind.

The Royal Engineer spoke up, bringing the here and now back into focus. "Look, Corporal, there's Lieutenant Kilfeather and Sergeant Greenhound."

"Yes, sir. I see them."

Artemis was paying so much attention to her VIP's outfit that she didn't even notice that the Whirlwind had made its way over to the far edge of the parade grounds.

‘The Lieutenant, Glamerspear's ex-coltfriend…’

Actually, she wasn't really sure if Lily would consider him an ex-coltfriend.

Ex-partner?

Or ex-friend, maybe?

That sounded even worse than ex-coltfriend.

Well, Lily’s ex-whatever was standing with the pegasus sergeant from the other day beside the large, oval ring surrounding the parade field, both of them dressed in their blue Air Service jackets, her in a side cap and him with an officer's peaked cap. Honour applied the brakes so smoothly that despite just sitting on the open deck, Artemis didn't even feel the need to reach for something to hold onto, and the vehicle came to a gentle stop.

‘She's really getting the hang of piloting this thing.’

Kilfeather called up to the vehicle, rendering a proper salute along with the sergeant. "Good morning, my Lord."

"Good morning, Lieutenant. We'll be a while, yes? I'll turn off the engine."

"Yes, m'Lord, though I think you should have a drive around the grounds afterwards."

Well, he was still being polite. Glamerspear must’ve been happy about that.

‘Despite his shredded wings, he does look smart in that uniform. So does the Sergeant.’

‘Then again, doesn't everypony?’

‘That's what they always say about the Royal Guard: nopony can resist a colt, or a mare, in uniform.’

Artemis and the rest of the quaternion dismounted the Whirlwind while the Royal Engineer bent over the controls and worked to screw shut the valve to its steam boiler. That gave the pegasus a moment to survey the scene around her.

They were in the main parade grounds of the Royal Artillery Barracks. It was a huge, open green field, rectangular in shape, surrounded on all sides by raised green berms, with just a couple of narrow cutouts in them to allow easier passage. There was an oval ring road running just inside; three quarters of it was compacted brown dirt, but the section where they were was paved with stones like a typical Equestrian highway. A large, shallow trench ran parallel to and just inside from the road here, as well.

Beside Artemis on that edge, a dozen worker-ponies were putting together bleachers. And just beyond them, there was a one-storey brick building partially built into the berm, with another couple of worker-ponies assembling some kind of wooden tower atop it. Beyond one of the berms, she could see puffs of white smoke rising in the air, and there was the occasional crack of cannon fire. On the opposite berm, Artemis could just make out the red-shingled roofs of the barracks buildings, each of which curiously has its own enormous, Equestrian flag billowing high on a pole.

‘That's a lot of flags.’

It was a strange sight. There's patriotism, sure -- and Artemis certainly expected to see a flag or two at a military base -- but why were there so many?

As if sensing her confusion, Sergeant Greenhound spoke up. "Curious about the flags, Specialist?"

‘Spooky how she knew that!’

‘Well, she is from intelligence.’

Remembering the last time Artemis had had to converse with a pegasus sergeant in Canterlot -- the ornery Sergeant Major Treechopper -- she quickly stood at ease. "Yes, Sergeant Greenhound."

She nodded and pointed a forehoof towards the flags. "Just Mirage, please. Anyways, the flags..." Swinging her forehoof over to the source of gun-smoke, she continued. "...It's for the gunners. In the off-chance that they get their sighting wrong and the red roofs don't make them realize they're aiming the wrong way, the flags are always run up during the day, so that a battery would have to be treasonously negligent to fire on the Equestrian flag and risk cannon-shot hitting the barracks."

Artemis, still at ease, nodded. "Very interesting! Thank you, Sergeant Mirage."

The sergeant laughed. "Please, Specialist. I know you're on VIP duty and don't have to be formal."

"But Sergeant, regulation six hundred dash twenty-five, chapter one, section three-"

Lieutenant Kilfeather interrupted her. "Mirage knows the regs, Specialist. And she may be from intel, but she's still Air Service, and when you're up there, as part of a flight, it's just call signs, covering your wingmate, and following the leader. You don't have time to salute the rank. If you do that, you're dead." He nodded at the sergeant in acknowledgement. "While we're working together as a flight, without anypony else around, then I'm just Icepone, or Ice, and I won't expect salutes, and Mirage won’t expect you at ease."

Kilfeather turned towards the Royal Engineer, who'd satisfied himself that the Whirlwind's engine was properly shut off. "That's assuming we are still working together as a flight, my Lord? Will Mirage be your sixth?"

Artemis couldn't help but notice that despite inviting her to disregard addressing or saluting him by rank, he still saluted the Royal Engineer and called him "Lord."

Anonymous furrowed his brow. "To be perfectly honest with you, Lieutenant, I still haven't made up my mind on that matter. I'm sorry; I know I promised to determine it by today, but I feel like I still need to understand things a bit better. Let's say for sure that we'll decide by Sunday. However, even if she doesn't join us in the fight, as you said, I think we would still appreciate Mirage being part of our team for intelligence on the other competitors."

The Royal Engineer looked over at her, and Mirage nodded in confirmation. She seemed a little disappointed at the idea of not fighting -- but Artemis could read a hint of relief in her face, too.

"Why don't we talk about the Grand Mêlée a bit first? Tell us about the battlefield. This is the site, isn't it?"

Icepone nodded, and everypony gathered around. "Yes, my Lord, this is it. Most of the year it's just where the artillery-ponies come to jog around in circles for their morning PT -- physical training -- or to practice hauling their guns around. On Revue Day they do parades and demonstrate firing blanks at the trot to crowds gathered on this berm. Graduation day is another big event for artillery cadets. But one day of the year, they actually put up bleachers and assemble a hoardings-tower over the old guardhouse, there. That's what we're here for."

Pointing at the brick structure, he waved his forehoof up, above the currently-assembled height of the tower. "Most of the judges will spend the match at the top of the structure they're assembling now. I told you the Games ran on pegasus rules, and that applies to the judging, too. It's a panel of nine assessing scores, and five of them will be pegasi up there, though they'll come down if enough of the action hits the dirt. The other four are two unicorn and two earth pony judges, and they'll generally stay on a much lower-down balcony the whole time, focusing on their ground-pounding kin. You can see the workers just starting to build the gallery out above the guardhouse roof."

Then he pointed towards the trench. "That's the team staging area. There's a big parade entry, and all the teams -- including their support crews with all of the extra gear, and often enough with regimental bands marching behind them -- circle around the ring-road with banners flying and marching as pomp-and-circumstancy as they can, making as big of a racket as possible while still remaining dignified, then they take up positions in the trench. Every team gets a designated allotment, and it's a penalty deduction to enter another team's section."

Kilfeather glanced at the Whirlwind. "You'll need to be able to get this thing up and down the hill, whether under its own power or by pushing, though pushing might cost you some style points. Anypony, or anything, not in a team section in the trench is still considered 'in play' for the purposes of scoring. That'll be important if you have to mend it mid-fight. Of course, there are some general pauses where nopony's fighting anyways, but those will be too few and far between if you have a breakdown."

Anonymous spoke up. "You've mentioned style points and penalty points, Lieutenant -- just how is the Grand Mêlée scored?"

Kilfeather grinned. "Excellent question. Even though it's a big, bloody, open-field battle, the scoring is not as straightforward as you might think. If one team absolutely demolishes all the others, then yeah, they'll win, but that basically never happens. Nopony's that good."

Glamerspear scoffed. "Not even you, Val?"

He shook his head, still grinning. "Not even me, Lil'. Don't get me wrong -- my team did really well in the actual fighting. But even last year, we didn't win every fight. We didn't even win most of them; our rate was just over forty percent. That's actually considered high for the Mêlée; most winners don't pass thirty-five. Second and third place finishers are usually in the thirties."

‘Forty percent hardly seems like 'winning'!’

But... in a match where everypony was protected by the power of the ancient magical Totems, the same ones which nullified any permanent damage during the quaternion's duels with Kilfeather's Air Wing, what even constituted 'winning'?

Artemis couldn’t help but ask. "What actually counts winning a fight, if nopony can... well, kill their opponent?"

The Lieutenant raised an eyebrow and nodded in her direction. "Another good question. Forcing a retreat counts, of course. But even if you don't, the judges will mark it as a win if it just looks like the other party's outmatched for a sufficient period of time."

Now it was Honour's turn to pipe up, turning to the Royal Engineer. "But winning isn't everything. There's two other scoring categories that matter almost as much."

Again, the Lieutenant nodded in acknowledgement. "You did the homework. Yes, winning fights isn't everything. Come on, let's head towards the guardhouse and I'll explain."

The group of six ponies and one very important pony who wasn’t actually a pony started off at a slow walk towards the small brick building with shuttered windows, clip-clopping along the paved road in a combination of metal sabots, leather-soled shoes, and bare hooves.

"I think it'll help if you first understand the purpose behind the games, my Lord."

Anonymous didn’t miss a beat. "It's a spring festival for the pegasi, isn't it, Lieutenant?"

Honour jumped in, too. "An ancient festival, sir. One with early religious roots."

The Royal Engineer nodded. "Right. And Specialist Sparkshower, you mentioned the name but I'm afraid I've forgotten it. It started with a 'B'?"

"Beltane, sir. The ancient pegasus spring festival."

Kilfeather looked over in Artemis’ direction knowingly. "Your parents taught you the old fables, didn't they, Specialist?"

The old fables.

Tales of mythological pegasus heroes, from a time before the Princesses ruled Equestria.

Before Equestria really was Equestria.

"They did, sir."

"Ah, so you must be the one who gave the Royal Engineer the idea to name his vehicle after Epona an Iomaghaoth, isn't that right?"

It was almost surprising hearing another pony pronounce the ancient name properly, but then again, Glamerspear said Kilfeather wasn't a noble-born; that meant he had to have gone to college before becoming an officer in the Royal Guard.

Artemis wondered what exactly he’d studied there.

Was it history, just like Lieutenant Violetta?

Perhaps even with the same minor in musical theater?

Something to find out later, maybe.

"Yes, sir. The Royal Engineer asked if there were any Equestrian myths about wheeled vehicles, so I told him the pegasus creation-myth of Epona and Llamrei's chariot."

The Lieutenant stopped in his tracks, provoking everyone else to halt as well.

He glanced down at Artemis’ hooves. "If you know that, then you must also know about the symbol you're standing on right now."

‘What?’

She looked down and lifted her forehooves to see that the large paving stone right before her had a design carved into it: an eight-spoked carriage-wheel, with the spokes made of lightning-bolts.

‘Thundershowers!’

‘Literally, thundershowers!’

"This is the thunder-wheel symbol of Turrican, sometimes called Turrican Thunder-Wheel, or Turrican Cuibhle-Tàirneanaich. Turrican is part of the ancient pegasi pantheon of Gods who ride the skies in Llamrei's Chariot, as pulled by Epona. He's said to be responsible for throwing down lightning bolts during storms." Icepone tapped a forehoof toward the air. "And to the ancient pegasi, Turrican was the god of fighting. Beltane was the ancient festival in Turrican's honor, and as gruesome as it still can be today, it was probably a heck of a lot worse before the ancient unicorns created the Totems for us pegasi. That stone you're standing on predates Canterlot city, as does the site of these artillery proving grounds. The base of Canterlot mountain, the only thing for miles and miles around which physically connects the sky to the earth, just as Turrican's thunderbolts do, has been the site of pan-pegasic festivals for eons."

Suggested background music: Kenny Chou - 'Title Theme [Nightcreeper remix]', from 'One Must Fall: 2097'
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A9RCmgiFUcI

He pointed down at the weathered engraved stone. "Rain pours and lightning crackles when Turrican's around. It's considered auspicious if it thundershowers on the day of the Grand Mêlée: it means Turrican is watching."

With a wide smile, Kilfeather stood up on his hind hooves, raising his forehooves to the sky. "And what pleases Turrican, will please the judges of the Grand Mêlée, for this is Turrican's festival, and we still remember it as such! Winning counts for the most, yes, but you had better also fight with honor and with style! Honor means fighting as a team, and helping each other out! It means not picking on weak competitors, or ones already engaged by others, but instead challenging the strong and free! And while Turrican enjoys any fight, Turrican especially loves a good show! Be inventive, be energetic, be theatrical! March loudly during the entrance, show hot-blooded rage at the start of a fight, howl tragically when defeated, and, most of all, laugh and spit in the face of danger!"

Raising his voice to a shout, he laughs maniacally. "HAH! HAH-hahahahah-aaaaaa!!"

Shockingly, he immediately inhaled and hocked, then spat loudly and conspicuously on the ground, narrowly missing Turrican's thunder-wheel, before getting back down on all fours.

‘Goodness, this is surprising behavior for an officer of the Royal Guard.’

"Please Turrican, and Turrican will shower you with glory! That is the will of the thunder-god of the pegasi!" Taking it down a notch, Icepone took a moment to wipe his mouth with his forehoof. "...Or at least, that's what one of the old champions of the Tournament once told me, when I was younger. And it was at that moment I decided I wanted to fight in the Games, and win."

It was an impressive performance.

Artemis looked around; Glamerspear had dropped her semi-scowl in favor of an impressed, but questioning look. Ebonshield was grinning eagerly, and even Honour looked a little inspired. Sergeant 'Mirage' appeared quietly pleased; Artemis got the feeling she'd heard this one before. Maybe even when he recruited her for this operation.

Anonymous snorted, chuckling and applauding lightly. "Very good, 'Icepone.' It's a great speech; I feel motivated to win as well. So -- win fights as much as we can, comport ourselves honorably, and do so with panache. Those are the basics, but I'm sure you have details on what the judges are specifically looking for."

The Lieutenant gave a semi-bow. "Yessir, I have plenty. Though I have to say, particularly with a relatively inexperienced and, let's say, 'unorthodox' gang like yours, you're going to want to play to the crowd. Anything that gets their attention, especially their cheers, is important. The judges will be paying attention to the spectators, too. There's more competitors on the field than there are judges watching everything, so being loud, large, and in charge helps. They can't score you if they're not even watching you, after all." He lifted his eyebrows. "Then again, I don't think your Lordship will have problems with volume. I might have been too far off to hear you when you gave targeting instructions to Specialist Glamerspear, but I sure got an earful about your voice from my wing-mates afterwards. I haven't seen you fight, but so long as you're at least halfway decent, you've got the lungs and the vocal cords to be a superstar."

Anonymous laughed again. "Is that how you won, Lieutenant? By winning forty percent of the time while being louder than everybody else?"

Icepone sat back on his haunches, shrugging his shoulders. "It works, believe me! We might not have been the loudest, but everypony on my team had a technique to get attention at the right moment. You can't just be hollering all the time, of course, but a good shout before you launch an attack can be worth more points than the attack itself."

He looked over at Sparkshower. "Specialist, you fought my second-in-command, 'Joker.' Believe it or not, he's actually a poor fighter. But he's got stamina, determination, originality, and good sky presence. That counts for a lot in the Grand Mêlée. Last year, he was our wildcard, the one to throw in against foes when regular tactics weren't working. He didn't actually win much more, but he made a real good show of it, and pulled in his share of points."

Glamerspear scoffed. "C'mon, Val. She swatted your colt like a bug. Don't diminish her victory by claiming he's a 'poor fighter.' If he was a 'poor fighter' you wouldn't have him in your crew."

The pegasus waved a featherless wing in dismissal, turning to Artemis. "Okay, okay. He's not a poor fighter, but he's not one of my best, you know what I mean? I've got quite a few better, mostly among the enlisted. You actually threw him for a loop with your 'clash-of-storm-fronts' bit. We really weren't expecting anybody to come at us traditional-style. And your technique with the storm cloud and the lightning-spear was, honestly, amazing. That's a podium-winning move in the Grand Mêlée right there."

‘Oh, my!’

She felt herself getting a bit flushed in the cheeks from the praise.

Icepone turned to the other members of the quaternion who fought at the Pas-de-Sabots. "Corporal, I don't know if you intended to kick Duck in the family jewels-"

"I didn't. Anywhere past the sternum would have done just as well."

Val licked his lips, pausing before continuing. "Right. Well, a kill's a kill, as we say. Not too many points in the 'honor' category for that one, ironically, but you'd probably get some for style with that back-roll down the hill."

Then he turned to Glamerspear. "Lily, I don't think I have to tell you that the unicorn judges would be floored by what you pulled off at Newstirrup Bridge. Top marks from them for sure. Top marks from the pegasi as well; grudging top marks, but top marks nonetheless. And you took me out of the fight, which is even better. But I hear you didn't do so well afterwards."

"I manaburned myself pretty hard. The symptoms showed up the next day." She grinned. "It was worth it to take you down a notch, though."

Kilfeather was more amused than threatened. "Hey, if it's a day-later type thing, then feel free to go wild during the match. Just don't do anything that would take you out of the fight."

Then he turned up towards the Royal Engineer. "Nopony gets killed during the Games, and nopony even gets what you'd call 'permanently injured' -- but they do get hurt, and out of the eight teams of six on the field -- that's forty-eight fighters -- at least a dozen will be laid up by the end of the day. Losing a soldier hurts more than you'd think, because it's not just less chances to win a fight, it means less chances to show off. The points add up."

Anonymous furrowed his brow. "Lieutenant, from the way you're describing things I get the idea that most fights are one-on-one. Is that right?"

"More like two-on-two. A wing of six pegasi is really three pairs working closely together. One member of the pair selects a target and initiates the attack. Their wingpony watches their tail, defending them from anypony else, and keeps an eye on the general situation. The judges will pay the most attention to the leading pony's attack, but they'll be watching to see how well the trailing pony defends them, and how well the leader reacts to any attackers that get through the cover. Conversely, if you go in on a pony who's already being attacked by others, you can get penalized for dishonorable fighting, even if you take them down. Unless it's your own team beating them up, of course. You're allowed to gang up that way."

‘That makes sense.’

But those rules really only worked for pegasi in the air, and Artemis wasn’t even sure if she could fight in tandem with Sergeant Ebonshield. The pegasus had been trained in that technique, but Eb hadn't, and there might not be enough time to get things down pat. After all, she really had to trust that her wingmare knew what she was doing when duelling in pairs.

Then there was the question of the reason they were all here. "How would those rules apply to the Whirlwind, with it having one 'attacker,' Lily, a pilot, Honour, and a co-pilot or commander in the Royal Engineer?"

For the first time this morning, the Lieutenant didn’t have an instant answer. "Yeah... That's the question. Is that how you plan to fight? Three of you in the armored carriage like that? And the other three... in the air? We're talking about the sixth member of the wing again, now."

Anonymous furrowed his brow. "Someone could hang off the back, I suppose, but really we don't have enough room for a fourth actually in the carriage. I guess it does have to be someone who can fly. But then isn't three in the sky also awkward?"

Ebonshield, still magically disguised as a pegasus, spoke up. "Great Lord, the Stellar Dancers do not fight like this, in pairs. I will be at my best working alone, picking off the weak and the isolated, and retreating to the carriage when confronted with force. This is a configuration quite typical for my Temple, and while this may not be seen as honorable, I assure you that I can perform with the grace and the style. Perhaps there is sense for the sixth member to be another pegasus with whom the Specialist Sparkshower can form a team."

Now it was Sergeant Greenhound's turn to spin a tornado on things. "The issue with that -- and I know this hurts my candidacy -- is that Specialist Sparkshower flies in heavy armor. Her wingmate should ideally be similarly armored. But there's nopony in Canterlot who could serve; the First Air Division's armored units are the Valkyries and the Royal Hussars, both of whom are our rivals in this fight. The Household Division has an armored corps as well, but again they're in as competitors themselves. Which means we're out of luck unless one of you knows somepony who can get leave on short notice. Or, Sergeant --" She turned to the disguised batpony. "...Do any of your kind fight with heavy armor?"

Ebonshield shook her head. "No. Our chief advantage over pegasi is our superior maneuverability; as fighting Equestrians has always been our greatest concern, no school gives this up by encasing their soldiers in much armor."

Kilfeather piped up. "That means Mirage is likely as good as you're going to get. Which is pretty good, I may add -- I didn't pick her at random. But, my Lord, don't say you'll decide on Sunday. Give yourself another day and decide by Monday. The Gala's tomorrow, and I'm sure your Lordship will be occupied on the day after."

Glamerspear snorted. "Why, because you think we'll all be completely hammered?"

But Icepone didn’t miss a beat. "Won't you? The party goes all night, and the drinks and food along with it. Shame to waste any."

Anonymous sighed. "Going by how we comported ourselves Tuesday night, I suppose treating Sunday as a recovery day would be prudent."

Mirage laughed, smiling. "And there's always stories out of the Grand Galloping Gala that good-looking single ponies wake up in bed to find they're not so single anymore, either."

That got a faint chuckle out of everypony.

‘Yeah…’

‘Waking up in the Royal Engineer's bed…’

‘Wouldn't that be a surprise…’

While Artemis’ VIP mulled things over, Kilfeather summarized. "Alright, so a pair of fliers working together, three of you in a vehicle with Lily as the primary damage output, and then the sixth as a surprise spoiler, using the Whirlwind vehicle as a mobile firebase. It's unorthodox -- Tartarus, the whole setup is unorthodox; almost nopony shows up to the Grand Mêlée with a combined-arms detachment, but it could work."

Anonymous mused again, looking at Honour and Lily. "It seems as if fully embracing 'unorthodox' may be the best way for us to go." Then he nodded. "Yes, I think this is how we'll do it. I'm not as fast on my feet as a pegasus, let alone the Whirlwind. I can serve as the vehicle commander, helping selecting targets and guiding the vehicle, while fending off anyone who comes too close for comfort. I might dismount temporarily to settle things on the ground, if needed, but I think for the most part we're going to want to be buttoned up in this vehicle, just as Artemis says."

Hearing him say her first name made the pegasus feel all tingly inside. Like being wrapped up in silky sheets. She’d never really given him permission to be on a first-name basis -- that was Lieutenant Kilfeather's admonition. It was forward, but it felt good.

Artemis felt closer to him.

Realizing what he'd done, the Royal Engineer turned to her, embarrassed. "I'm sorry, Specialist, is it alright if I use your first name? You can call me Anon in return, in these situations. Or perhaps you have a 'call sign' you'd prefer?"

‘Ooh, hurricanes, the tingles get even tinglier.’

Her muzzle must have looked like a beet after Kilfeather's compliments and that kind of personal attention from her Very Important Pony (even if he wasn’t actually a pony).

"Uhm... It's all right if you use my first name, sir. I don't have a 'call sign' -- they're not common in armored recon. But my fillyhood nickname was 'Thunder,' and some ponies I know still call me that."

Kilfeather clapped his forehooves together once. "An auspicious coincidence! Winged and armored Thunder to praise Turrican the lightning-god, heh!"

Artemis went even redder, sinking a bit into her helmet.

‘I’m not used to all this fussing over little ol' me.’

Glamerspear sidled dup and threw a foreleg over her, giving the pegasus a friendly jostle. "Thunder! I like it, Sparks! But I'll stick with Lily, if you don't mind."

Honour cleared her throat. "And I'm fine being called Honour. Us 'ground-pounder' ponies don't really go in for this 'call-sign' stuff. A name's just a name."

Valiant 'Icepone' Kilfeather seemed cheerfully offended by that statement. "Hey, don't discount the value of a good name, Corporal. Sometimes, it can be more than just a label; it can be something for you to hold on to. A call sign can be that thing if you don't care for the words your parents gave you." With a laugh, he shrugged. "I mean, take me for instance. My last name wasn't originally Kilfeather. I changed it when I decided to join the Royal Guard and go for the gold in the Grand Mêlée."

‘Really?’

Even Glamerspear was surprised. "I didn't know that, Val."

"There's a lot you don't know about me, Lil', after I blew my first chance with you. Maybe you'll find out the rest now that I've been given a second one."

"Don't push it, 'Icepone.'"

Their little back-and-forth didn’t answer Artemis’ question, though. "Wasn’t your family upset when you changed your name?"

He shook his head. "No more upset than they were when they found out I was applying to the Royal Guard Academy."

Sparkshower remembered her parents being concerned when she enlisted, but they were also happy for her; they felt it was every pegasus' duty to serve at least a term in the Equestrian Royal Guard, just as she’d thought, and just as she still did. But what kind of pegasus parents would be upset at their son joining the Royal Guard not merely as an enlisted, but as an officer?

Seeing her confusion, Lieutenant Kilfeather continued. "My family's got a history in academia. They're all researchers and professors. My father's got a chair at Manehattan University; he's head of the department of geography."

Valiant shrugged nonchalantly and lifted his jacket up to show Artemis his flank. She got a look at his cutie mark for the first time: it was three pens pointing upright in a 'flying V' formation, piercing through three small rings arranged opposite.

"The name on my birth certificate is Valiant Quillfeather. Quill as in writing quill, of course. They may say that the pen's mightier than the sword, but it's not exactly a name to strike terror into the hearts of your enemies. It was a small jump to call myself Kilfeather instead."

‘Huh, interesting.’

But it seemed that Sergeant Mirage couldn’t resist an interjection. "You know, Ice, officers have to do a tremendous amount of paperwork, even combat officers, and it just gets worse as you rise in rank. Maybe your original name wasn't so wrong after all."

Icepone smiled, cool as a cucumber. No wonder he got his call-sign; so far, the only time he'd lost his cool was when the Royal Engineer told the lieutenant he wanted nothing to do with him for the Grand Mêlée, unless he showed some respect.

"Then maybe I'll change back to Quillfeather when I get to that point, Mirage, if I think it'll help. But right now, I'm Kilfeather, I'm a combat lieutenant, and while I do have some paperwork waiting for me in my wing commander's office, it can keep waiting, because I want to win another Grand Mêlée."

He turned to the rest of them. "So, let's walk and talk some more about the rules and regs. Mirage did some snooping around and found out that in about half an hour one of our fiercest competitors -- no less than the Valkyries themselves -- have booked this place for a practice session. That'll surely be an eyeful for Turrican Thunder-Wheel, and for us as well."

Suggested interlude music: Chris Huelsbeck - 'Stage 3-1', from 'Mega Turrican' [1994]
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FPIr_RIuQZI

Chapter 133

Lily Glamerspear

Suggested background music: Academy of Ancient Music - 'Arrival of the Queen of Sheba', from Handel's 'Solomon'
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-TGKJ9MgCOQ

Specialist Lily Glamerspear was having fun. Which was surprising, given that her current activity had been suggested by the downbeat, unamused, level-headed, plain-palomino Corporal Bound.

Who'd have thought she'd be the one to find the perfect palace balcony from which to pony-watch the early arrivals to the Grand Galloping Gala? To see the dignitaries and nobleponies and general invitees pull up in their fancy carriages to the main drive, before they disembarked and slowly cantered up to the palace gates and into the garden paddock from a perch that not only had a good view, but was close enough to their quarters, and most importantly, was completely deserted?

"How'd you know about this place, Corporal?"

Honour nodded back towards the door behind them. "Looking through the index cards for material on the MXP Games in the palace library sent me here yesterday. I had to ask what the weird call number meant; apparently this is formerly a head servant's room, which was at some point repurposed into an annex of the main archives when one of the newer palace wings was built."

Sparkshower smiled, her visor creaking as she bobbed her head up and down. "Oh, that explains the balcony! I was wondering why a storage room full of bookshelves needed one."

With that question cleared up, the three of them resumed pony-watching. It was Saturday, just after three o'clock, and the three of them would be heading to the Gala in a couple of hours, when it was more fashionable to arrive.

Which meant Lily really shouldn't have been wearing her duty armor, as she presently was. But since there was only one washroom for the four of them, that kind of created a bottleneck. So, as the Royal Engineer had already given them the whole afternoon off to get ready, Honour proposed setting up a little queue: one pony would be in the quarters working on her mane, tail, makeup, outfit, and whatever else. Meanwhile, the other three would be out on the balcony of this room, conveniently located just at the end of the hall and up a single flight of stairs from their quarters, and entertaining themselves by watching the early arrivals and staying helpfully out of the way from the pony getting ready. The corporal also said that since seniority rules, that meant Sergeant Ebonshield got dressed first.

Lily shook her head as another carriage rolled up and disgorged a quartet of gala-goers in traditional outfits. "Why do they come so early? I mean, the palace is nice and all, and so's the garden, but what's the point of showing up two hours before things really get started? Their Majesties won't be there to receive them for another hour, and there's still servants setting up decorations and flowers, and there's just hardly anypony else around."

"And the hors d'oeuvres aren't even being served," Artemis apparently agreed. Lily swore she could hear the angry growl of an empty stomach reverberate from within Sparkshower's bronze plate after she spoke.

But the corporal merely pointed a forehoof at the unicorn. "You're the one with the fancy helmet, Glam. Zoom and enhance on the arrivals, their ride, and their porters. See all the mud on the wheels and underside? They wouldn't have gotten that coming from inside the city. These are guests who, for whatever reason, didn't stay in Canterlot last night. Some of them may not even be staying in the city tonight, either."

Tapping the side of her helmet, Lily lowered her zoom lens in place. She confirmed that Honour was right even as the corporal continued.

"Not everypony can find or afford a place to stay on such a busy weekend. Many nobleponies with manors in the countryside keep an apartment in the city, but many more don't, and high quality hotels fill up, even with higher special event rates. Traditionally, the Gala doors open two hours early for an afternoon tea service."

The hungry burble repeated itself from within its armored enclosure. "So there is food down there?"

Artemis, the poor mare, was so worried about fitting into her dress tonight that she practically starved herself at lunch; she barely finished her third helping.

Lily smirked. "Come on, Sparks. You can last a couple more hours. It's not like we've got to go for a hike in full armor this afternoon. You can stuff yourself after we've arrived."

Artemis inhaled sharply. "No. Not until after the Lipizzaner Waltz. It's supposed to be an elegant dance; I wouldn't want to feel bloated."

The unicorn narrowed her eyes. "You're worried? You've practiced it every day this week, it feels like. Anon's got the moves down pat, doesn't he?"

The pegasus shrugged, turning to Glamerspear with a smile. "It's just nerves. He knows the moves, and so do I. But they'll be taking photos, and I wouldn't want to embarrass myself."

Honour chimed in. "You'll be fine. Come on, here's another carriage pulling up. Take a look at the outfits."

"Oh, that's a pretty dress. And look at how she's done her mane! It's all up high!"

Lily tilted her head as she looked at the getup. "Myehh... I guess it works. Kinda old-fashioned."

The corporal whinnied. "The other kind of pony that shows up for afternoon tea at the Gala is the kind that isn't planning to stay too late, because they'd be worried about falling asleep. Look over the garden; it's mostly senior citizens. They're here to have some tea, greet the Princess of the Sun, have a few drinks hobnobbing with the other gentry, eat a nice dinner, watch the young bucks and does dance the waltz, slow-dance with their partner once or twice, and then head out as soon as the chamber orchestra retires in favor of a DJ and the grand ballroom switches from Rococo to Disco."

As Lily scanned the tea-garden, she again confirmed Honour’s statements. It really was mostly old ponies. Well-dressed old ponies holding themselves as finely as they could, but still: mostly old ponies.

"For somepony reserved, you seem to know an awful lot about the Gala, Corporal."

"I was there last year."

That shocking revelation got an instant head-turn from both Glamerspear and Sparkshower.

But Honour hoof-waved off their excitement. "As a bodyguard. It was my first VIP assignment, a foreign dignitary staying here in the palace. I only got to be in the Gala guards' room, not the main party area. We still had a good time, though. Good food, comfortable seating, decent DJ, and our own little dance floor. The drinks don't flow quite so freely there -- they don't want anypony's escort leaving completely hammered, but the bartenders let you get pretty buzzed."

‘Huh.’

Was that why she didn't jockey to get assigned to the Royal Engineer on the night of the Gala, as Lily had before he invited them to come as his full guests, instead of his bodyguards? Because she'd already been?

‘Seems like she really has gone everywhere and done everything.’

‘Except the Moon, heh.’

‘I gotta get this mare up there; maybe she'll actually be excited for once.’

Sparkshower piped up with a poignant question. "Was this the same assignment you had during the Changeling invasion?"

"Yes. That was only three weeks after the Gala."

"So, then it wasn't because of the invasion that you got to go to the big party."

"No, I got to go because I was that VIP's only escort. He was a young noble from a minor house in a region bordering the Crystal Empire, here to represent his family in fealty to Equestria. He wasn't on the wedding invite list. When the Changelings hit, I hustled him into his bathroom and barricaded him inside, fending off a group of three attackers before things got under control."

‘Nice.’

"Since you saved his plot from Changelings, I bet you have an open invitation to go up North and enjoy his family's hospitality, then," Lily replied with a cheeky grin.

Honour nodded tightly. Clearly, there was more to that incident than she was letting on.

"Yeah, I do. I understand his family has done very well since the Crystal Empire showed up again. Not sure if or when I'll go. We don't get a lot of free time in this job."

‘A young noblecolt?’

‘Heroic young guardsmare saving him from hideous bug monsters?’

‘Slaying them before his eyes -- well, no, not that.’

But Lily bet she hadn't tidied up the corpses before he got out. Yeah, she might see herself as boring and brown, but with an action like that, the unicorn bet she made an impression. She’d seen Honour spar with the Royal Engineer, after all.

Lily smirked, secure in her computation that some further conspiracy must have happened.

Sparkshower eagerly asked another question. "They must have given you a medal for that, Corporal?"

But Honour just gave a one-word answer. "Yes."

‘Oh, come on, mare.’

Lily pressed on. "And?"

With a sigh, Honour spilled the details. "I got the Silver Star. It's not a big deal -- hundreds of other soldiers stationed in Canterlot got it that day as well."

‘Not a big deal!’

Yeah, okay, it was no Silver Ram, but even Silver Stars didn't just grow on trees.

Lily shook her head, chuckling. "Come on, Corporal. Down three Changelings, solo and taken by surprise in the palace? I'll own up to being a braggart, but you better own up to selling yourself way too short! And now that I think about it, Lieutenant Violetta never mentioned your Silver Star when introducing us all to the Royal Engineer! No wonder she didn't blink at my request to conceal my Silver Ram. You'd already asked for your own award to be hushed up."

Leaning on the guardrail, Glam poured on the ribbing. "And I bet that young crystal colt was all aflutter about his bloodied brown savior. I bet you've got more than just an open invitation to go up there. I bet you've got a noblecolt up in the mountains pining for a certain someone to be Northern Bound, heh. And I bet you have a ton more juicy details you could be spilling about this incident while we're up here on a balcony gossipping like a gaggle of hens."

Honour rolled her eyes. "You know, I suggested that we come up here and watch the arrivals instead of all hanging out in our quarters exactly so that we wouldn't wind up doing this."

Just then there was an answer from inside the room behind them. "And we are doing what, exactly, Caporal?"

They all turned around to face the voice. It was Sergeant Ebonshield, but she was as Lily had never seen her before. Her appearance even got a double eyebrow raise out of the corporal.

Their slim and athletic, dark-purple batpony comrade, whom they’d only ever seen wear a black bodysuit or a black cape, was now wearing a dress of crimson red which stood out in the darkened room, and brightened up further when she stepped out onto the balcony.

But it wasn’t just any old red dress.

The cut in the back was fashionably modern and short, reaching just above the hocks, yet it was what was going on up front that was really shocking. The red covered Ebonshield’s barrel all the way up to her neck, with a wide, shiny black belt to emphasize her trim waist, but then there was a large shawl of the same fabric positioned triangularly over her head, draping down her shoulders so far that it reached her front knees and extended just far enough back across her back as to just conceal her bat-wings, provided they remained folded.

That was pretty avant-garde, and what made it even more so were her accessories. She was wearing four boots, just as black and as shiny as her belt, and they went far up enough as to disappear under the dress in the back and the bottom of the shawl in the front. On her head she was wearing what looked to be something like a tall smoking cap, made of a shiny fabric and with an enormous black tassel dangling down on one side nearly as far as the triangular red shawl, with the red carnation Sparkshower picked up from the market pinned on the other side of the peak. All of the batpony’s mane was tucked under cap or shawl, though her tail still protruded normally. She'd accented her eyes with thick mascara and a light purple eyeshadow, exotically applied, as well as expressing her mouth with a dab of red lipstick.

For any pony, but particularly for one with a dark coat, it was a stunning look, more akin to a superstar pop diva than any kind of guard or noble. She’d stand out in the crowd like a beacon -- but that was the point of a Grand Galloping Gala dress, and Lily had to just sit back and applaud the boldness of the outfit and the tidiness of its execution.

Even Honour recognized what was before her. "Damn."

Sparkshower was so shocked, she was stuck in breathless-whisper mode. "Wow."

Since Lily’s comrades were struck speechless, she summarized for them. "You look amazing, Sergeant."

Ebonshield took the compliments in stride. "Thank you. Now that I am finished, I believe by order of seniority that you must be next, Caporal?"

Honour shook her head. "Save me for last. I don't want to stay in that dress with my plot hanging out any longer than I have to. Sparkshower, you go. You've got all that armor to take off anyways."

The pegasus began a generous protest. "Are you su-"

But the corporal was in no mood. "Go on, get!"

Purity Ebonshield

Sergeant Purity Ebonshield was pleased that her dress had been received so well by her comrades. The occasions on which she’d been required to wear the clothing 'elegant' had been few and far between. So much so, that when the Engineer Royal took them all out for dinner and drinks on Tuesday, she had had nothing to wear besides her black bodysuit; little more than an undergarment.

Which was not unsuccessful, given the attention paid to her in the club by several young colts, but still -- her comrades were much more finely dressed, with their 'uniforms of service' from the Equestrian Guardia Real. She was looking forward to seeing what they had chosen to wear to the Gala. Whereas Purity had put herself at the mercy of what the Rock-phase in the Rookery thought of fashion, the three of them were able to rely upon the extensive costuming selection offered in the city of Canterlot.

Perhaps she could have, as well.

But part of her was worried that the colors would not go well -- since the Equestrian ponies were so much lighter than her kin. And part of her was also prideful and wishing to show that the Children of the Stars were not all daggers and murder and dark tunnels and scheming mothers. She thought the Rocks of the Cloth had done a job most excellent in producing this unique dress; there was great gratification in finding out that the others thought so as well.

And the Engineer Royal, what would he think of her dress of red and her boots and fez of black? Would he be as shocked and happy as he was to see the daggers of plain steel? That mystery remained to be uncovered, as did his choice of lapel flower, a question which the Specialist Sparkshower raised this morning, only to be asked to procure for him one rosette each of pink, red, white, and blue. He said he would make his decision which to wear later in the day, which had sent her comrades into a titter of the speculation as to what such a statement could mean. But all that seemed to have been forgotten after a meal and a short sleep.

"Well. This is a view most pleasant. I hope that everyone is as refreshed from the siesta -- the rest after lunch -- as I am."

The Specialist Glamerspear shrugged. "Sure. Who doesn't like a good afternoon nap. More energy to party into the night, I say. Good thinking of our VIP to suggest it."

But the Corporal Bound furrowed her brow. "He actually called it a 'siesta' when he suggested it, didn't he? Sergeant, have you been teaching him the batpony language?"

‘Ah, she noticed this as well.’

"No, I have not. I was surprised also when he used this word. I do not recall it being spoken in the Grand Hall of Stars. Perhaps Carmen or some other Lunar used it in the Sanctuary Lunar?"

Honour shook her head. "No, they spoke perfect Equestrian to us the whole time. If you haven't been teaching him vocabulary, I can't imagine where he picked it up. Siesta just means rest?"

"Siesta is a nap taken in the afternoon. Curious that he should know this word; a mystery for later. Perhaps we will have some time to talk of such things during the Gala tonight."

Honour scoffed. "Maybe at dinner. Once the dance floor opens up the music gets pretty loud. If you thought it was hard to have a conversation in the nightclubs we went to on Tuesday, brace yourself for a new definition of loud tonight. Every amplifier and speaker in Canterlot gets hooked up to blow the roof off Their Majesties' Royal Ballroom."

‘Interesting. How does she know this?’

As if to answer the question unspoken, the Specialist Glamerspear leaned over around her to address Ebonshield. "Our Corporal here attended the Gala last year, y'see, Sergeant. Just in the guards' little separate paddock, but I guess they could hear what was going on in the main room."

The earth pony nodded. "Yeah. It got to the point where our DJ just had to play whatever the main room was playing, even halfway across the main building, because otherwise we'd get confused from hearing both."

‘Perhaps a set of earplugs would be a useful accessory.’

"But maybe they'll tone it down this year. I gather they were trying something a bit fresh last time to change things up, and maybe the experiment went too far. Even the tabloids complained afterwards the volume was ridiculous."

"Sounds like somepony in charge wanted to make a statement, y'know; put their hoofstamp on things. Or maybe the DJ just ran away with the volume knob."

"Maybe. Whatever."

Strange; she sounded almost unhappy to be attending this magnificent event annual?

The caporal was more enthusiastic about going to the nightclubs ordinary with the Engineer Royal.

"Corporal, are you not excited to wear the clothing elegant, eat the foods delicious, and meet the ponies extraordinary tonight?"

Honour turned slowly to Ebonshield, a pained expression on her face. "At the Gala? Sure, it's a fun party. I just don't see it being some kind of once-in-a-lifetime event."

Glamerspear whinnied. "Why, 'cause you've already been? Being caged up with a bunch of guards doesn't count! We'll be free-roam! Wander the garden, greet the Princesses, hang out with the upper crust!"

The brown pony laughed. "Glamerspear, we jog around the garden all the time now with the Royal Engineer. We greeted the Princesses last weekend when they watched us demo the Whirlwind; I even spoke to Her Majesty with just the Royal Engineer and Princess Luna present. And aren't you always 'hanging out' with the upper crust at the Officers' Club? What's going to happen at the Gala that we haven't done in the last three weeks?"

Unable to rebut her arguments, the pink unicorn scoffed and turned back towards the gardens and the arrivals, muttering under her breath. "You could get laid."

‘That was inconsiderate.’

Honour did not reply, and this was perhaps more effective in scolding the Specialist Glamerspear than any retort she could deliver.

"...I'm sorry, Corporal. That was mean. I shouldn't have said that. I've just..." The young unicorn sighed. "...Look, I don't wanna info-dump my problems, but something happened on Thursday and long story short, I'm through with Captain Mailedhoof and with being a saltine and I'm actually really looking forward to just going to a party without hanging off of someone else's foreleg working to look pretty, y'know?"

That pronouncement prompted a look of concern from both the caporal and sergeant. There was displeasure in learning that a tragedy had befallen a comrade and friend.

Honour looked over her subordinate, as if inspecting for wounds. "Did he-"

"We don't need to talk about it. Believe me. It was nothing permanent or... y'know, physical, in the way you're probably thinking. Every action he did was within the bounds of what could be considered acceptable for a saltine-and-salt-lick relationship. It was just the way he did it; his attitude and what he said."

There was a long pause while both the sergeant and the caporal waited for anything more. However, the unicorn remained silent.

Honour put a reassuring forehoof on the shoulder of Glamerspear. "All right. If you need to talk, I'm here for you. And… look, I am actually happy we're going to the Gala. I've just got some problems of my own I'm dealing with. Actually, I'd kinda hoped that the Royal Engineer would've asked us to show up early like these ponies we're watching now."

Glamerspear scrunched up her muzzle. "What? Why? I thought you said these were old fogeys coming from out of town. We're all young and we literally just have to walk outside to get to the Gala entrance doors."

The earth pony sighed. "There's somepony attending that I really don't want to meet. The porters announce every guest as they walk in; the earlier we go, the less likely this certain somepony is going to already be there to hear my name get called."

"This have anything to do with that Sergeant Castlerook colt? He's going to be on duty tonight, isn't he?"

"Yes, he's on duty, but no, this doesn't have anything to do with him."

‘How unfortunate that both of them have reasons to feel upset.’

Ebonshield decided to lighten the mood. "Do not worry, Corporal. If this somepony tries to assault you at the entrance, then your comrades and I will surely hold them off while you make your escape. And as for you, Specialista..." Leaning over and around Honour, the batpony grinned playfully at the unicorn. "...If this Capitan Mailedhoof troubles you further, the services of my Temple are available to you at a discount substantial, on account of friendship."

Glamerspear smiled back. "Heh. I'll let ya know, Sarge. I'm a little more over everything now two days later, especially having given some thought to where I want to go next, but y'know, I might've taken you up on your offer if we'd run into each other right after the event. And Mailedhoof is attending the Gala -- I'll point him out to you just in case."

"Of course. My blades are always at your service."

Just then there was a cry pleading from behind them. "Oh no, why are we now talking about blades on a beautiful day like this?"

The three of them turned to behold the Specialist Sparkshower, who in spite of being gone for what has seemed like hardly any time at all was nonetheless dressed for the Gala.

This fact was shocking to the Caporal. "Sparkshower, how in Tartarus did you yank off all that armor and get ready so fast? You weren't even gone for half an hour."

The young pegasus shrugged as she stepped out on the balcony to join them.

Ebonshield wasn’t sure if she could be an honest judge of the fashion Equestrian, but Artemis’ outfit struck her as perfectly matched for a pleasant spring day. She wore a blush-pink dress, conservatively long in the rear, made of tulle and lace, with pretty white shoes and a small white saddle-purse to match.

"I dunno, Corporal. I guess I'm just really excited to go to the Gala! And I didn't really need to do much with my mane since I already fluffed it this morning, and this dress fits like a glove -- thanks again, Glamerspear. So I'm all set! Who's next?"

Caporal Bound shoved Specialist Glamerspear towards the door, who protested the action. "Okay, okay, Corporal! I'm going! And I bet you want me to take my time, too, huh?"

"That's right. The Royal Engineer said we'll head in at quarter after five. I don't want to see you out here until it's at least four-thirty."

"Fine! I'll even take the time to trim my bangs."

Artemis Sparkshower

‘It sure is a lot chillier up here on this balcony in my light dress than it was in my bronze armor!’

‘This wind really cuts through tulle. Maybe I need an accessory like Sergeant Ebonshield's comfy-looking red headscarf.’

But then again, Specialist Artemis Sparkshower probably wouldn’t be doing much hanging around on third-storey balconies during the Gala.

"So, did I miss anypony important?"

Honour just sighed. "I don't know. We've barely been paying attention to the arrivals. Did you know Glamerspear had some explosion with Mailedhoof on Thursday? You two went to the Moon together that night, didn't you?"

‘Explosion?’

"We did go to the Moon together, but she didn't say anything about Mailedhoof. What happened?"

"She wouldn't say. You two seem pretty close; maybe she'll confide in you later."

"Maybe."

‘What could have happened?’

Lily said she'd felt sick when Artemis saw her, but otherwise she seemed fine. Upbeat, even.

Ebonshield leaned over, her tall black fez flopping sideways. "And then there is also the matter that Caporal Bound expects somepony to be at the Gala whom she does not wish to encounter."

"Oh, no! Who should we watch out for, Corporal? I can find and engage the target and Lily can help me suppress them. It'll be just like we're in the field!"

The sergeant grinned. "And perhaps I could lose a dagger in just the wrong neck while this is all going on?"

Honour rolled her eyes. "For Celestia's sakes. We don't need to ATTACK him."

Immediately, the batpony's grin grew wider. "¡Ay! So this somepony the Caporal fears is a colt? Somepony from the past, I think?"

Their senior NCO scowled at the crimson-attired purple batpony. "You're as rotten as Glamerspear, Sergeant."

‘Wait, am I trying to help the Corporal or am I trying to tease her?’

‘It seems like Purity is aiming for both.’

"...Look, just... Let's keep our entrance low-key, okay? And if we're together in a group and I duck out without saying a word, you'll know why."

Eb sat back, satisfied. "Bueno. But now I am most eager to see the Caporal Bound in the red dress which exposes the plot and in which she does not wish to be seen by this colt mysterious. And especially since there is another colt about whom she is fond who will be present at this Grand Galloping Gala." Nonchalantly, the batpony flexed her wings and adjusted her shawl. "I wonder if this other colt will enjoy seeing his beautiful caporal in her elegant dress which I am told brings out the dark brilliance of her eyes and emphasizes the sensual fullness of her hips."

‘Wow, it does?!’

Honour scrunched her muzzle something fierce. "Nopony told you that load of nonsense."

"True, but having not seen the outfit particular, I am simply being the poetic. Another technique of the Temple of the Shining Stellar Dancers, by the way."

Corporal Bound whinnied. "Poetry and gymnastics and esoteric philosophy; never mind assassinations, you really should open up a second-floor studio in Manehattan. You could make a killing telling officeponies how to re-balance their lives."

She was being sarcastic, but surely she didn’t think her dress wasn’t pretty, did she? Not that Artemis had seen it -- but Glamerspear helped the pegasus pick hers out, and it was beautiful, and so was Lily’s, so surely Honour's must be great, too!

And didn't they bring the Royal Engineer along to help pick a dress as well?

"The Royal Engineer was with you when you went shopping with Lily, wasn't he? Did he have anything to say about it during your test fitting?"

Artemis saw patches of red start to form on Honour’s brown cheeks.

"He said..."

She swallowed.

"...He said I looked good in it. That it complimented my colors. And that it made me look ready for dancing."

‘There you go!’

"And I'm sure Lily wouldn't have suggested it for you if you didn't look great in it. After all, she did a good job helping me find my dress, didn't she?"

Both the sergeant and the corporal turned to the specialist, and the sergeant spoke first.

"Specialist, in that dress, you are the embodiment living of the colors of spring."

Honour nodded. "Yes, it's very pretty on you. You look fit to be attending a wedding."

‘Hurricanes!’

‘Surely she doesn't mean as the bride.’

"...I mean as a flower-mare or bridesmaid."

‘Oh, good.’

Artemis smiled warmly. "So if you're so uncomfortable with the idea of wearing it, Corporal, maybe you ought to head back to our quarters and put it on now? That'll give you time to get accustomed to it before we're in the crowd!"

Honour looked up at her begrudgingly, almost ashamedly.

Finally, she nodded and sighed. "All right. If Glam's cutting her hair then she's probably doing it in her chair rather than the bathroom. It's almost four o'clock now; you can see some ponies heading inside to greet the Princesses. I guess at this point you two might as well go downstairs and see how the Royal Engineer's getting on. Glam and I will join you when we're done, and then we can head out whenever our VIP wants to."

‘Yay!’

‘This is going to be fun!’

‘Only an hour or so to go until we all get our chance to shine!’

Suggested interlude music: Booty Luv - 'Shine'
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0TWrWkiW7iE

Chapter 134

Honour Bound

‘I can't believe I’m wearing this.’

Turning around, Corporal Honour Bound looked over her shoulder at her reflection in the bathroom mirror.

‘How did Glamerspear talk me into this dress?’

What little of the lacy red fabric there was scarcely reached the top of her hind legs. Squirming, she gave the bodice another tug down to try to make herself decent. It didn’t really work, and worse, pulling it down made her tuft sprout even further out.

‘Damn that unicorn!’

This tube-sock was a size too small, she was sure of it -- despite the fact that her barrel fit neatly inside. And it wasn’t like Honour ever donned 'long' or 'wide' sizes before. No, she was just an average earth pony, size 6. Same as it said on the label before she put the thing on.

At least Glamerspear's suggestion about the panties seemed to work. Beige didn't match her coat, but it perfectly blended in with the dress' translucent backing material, and with the red lace on top, the difference between the pantied and non-pantied parts of her body was imperceptible even in the bright bathroom lights. Nopony would be able to tell that she was wearing them to protect her modesty.

Unless she started dancing, she supposed.

‘Not likely.’

That thought lingered in Honour’s head a moment, and then on a whim, she shook her plot at the mirror. The loose pleats of sequined red lace bounced and flapped playfully, along with her braided brown tail.

She caught the barest glimpse of beige and paused to frown at her reflection.

‘Well…’

‘It is just underwear.’

She was wearing it under clothing, and it wouldn’t be out on display unless she really acted up. At the nightclubs on Tuesday with the Royal Engineer and the rest of the quaternion, plenty of the mares, and even a few of the colts, were wearing more scandalous outfits.

But this was the Grand Galloping Gala at Canterlot Palace, not Mares' Night in a smoky basement room! And Honour wasn’t a dance-hall whorse looking to grind up against colts for free drinks.

Out of frustration and indecision, she actually bent her knees and gave her rump a proper bump up in the air.

She saw nothing but panty.

That redoubled the corporal’s frown, but it was too late to back out now. Anyways, she wouldn't have anypony to dance with, so she wouldn’t be dancing, so she wouldn’t be bouncing, so nopony would see anything. That decided, she turned forwards again and reached over to the door-hook to grab the matching red shawl. It was trimmed with big, red fake fur that was so puffy it could be made of ostrich feathers, and when she slipped it on and wrapped it up properly to cover everything, she actually felt more ridiculous than she did before.

‘How'd I let Glamerspear talk me into this one as well?!’

‘The shawl was supposed to help me feel modest, not make me stand out even more!’

Honour almost preferred the dress leaving her with the plot-and-tuft-hanging-out than looking like she was completely naked under a slinky velvet wrap! That was worse than just showing up wearing nothing at all! The fault wasn't the fabric or the trim, really. It was just that the shawl was big enough and the dress small enough that one covered the other completely and utterly. She felt like she was supposed to be showing up at some colt's apartment door, only to strut in and pull the shawl off in a slinky display. Probably with a casual 'hey, big foal' and pointed glance at his package, followed by mounting a dance pole for a rousing show.

‘Okay, Honour, take it easy.’

‘Gala dresses are supposed to be a bit outrageous.’

Next to the batpony in her red scarf-shawl and tall black fez, Honour was sure she would just be a brown-and-red fuzzball. If she didn't feel like keeping the shawl on, she could check it at the door. Or she could take it to her dinner table and toss it over the back of her chair. She was just going to have to cope with feeling a bit silly walking around the Canterlot Palace hallways looking like a strippergram courier.

As long as she had at least one of the other guardsmares beside her, she felt she could bear it. Or the Royal Engineer, too -- provided he wasn't embarrassed to be seen alone with her. Well, his compliments contributed to Honour buying the dress, though she was certain Glamerspear coached him in what to say.

With a final look in the mirror to make sure her makeup was in order -- nothing fancy, just a little touching up around the eyes to match the glamor of the occasion -- she gave her dour reflection a final sigh.

‘Smile, Honour.’

Attending the Gala was a great privilege and it was supposed to be a great party. And she knew from having attended the sideshow previously that all the stops were being pulled out. In this ridiculous, scandalous, tantalizing dress, she could mope, disinterestedly sipping gin-and-tonics all she wanted, just like last year.

If that was all she wanted.

Castlerook would be on duty in the palace proper.

They didn’t need his unit down at the docks during the party itself, not when all those rowdy sailors from the lucky hundredth-anniversary-celebration merchant-marine ships were up at the Gala. His guardsponies would, instead be needed in the Palace to maintain order until the crowds started filtering out.

Maybe he could spare her a moment sometime during the evening...

Just then Honour remembered that one particular sailor from one particular ship would be in attendance, and a shiver ran down her spine.

Leeward.

She reminded herself that she had better get going so that the five of them could arrive and she could camouflage herself in a corner before he showed up.

Taking a deep breath, Honour pulled open the bathroom door and stepped out. Glamerspear was in the common room, double-checking her makeup in a small mirror hanging under the wall-clock. When she heard the corporal emerge, she turned around and, in an exaggerated motion, came to attention.

"At ease!"

‘Not this again.’

"Carry on."

As soon as she spoke the magic words, the unicorn broke out into a big grin. "Well, some corporal looks ready to bring all the colts to the yard! Come on, let's peek under the wrap!"

With a sigh and an irritated pout, Honour sat back and spread her forelegs to unfold the shawl.

"...Very nice. You're ready to click hooves on the dance floor all right!" Then Lily rolled her shoulders and quickly adjusted herself to be in just the right 'vogue' position. "And what do we think here, huh?"

Honour couldn't help but notice first and foremost that Glamerspear had selected a longer-cut dress than hers; while the earth pony’s scarcely covered her rear end, the unicorn’s reached down to just above her knees. And Honour already knew that Ebonshield and Sparkshower also had longer cuts, too.

‘Eb's getup may have been avant-garde, but how in Equestria did I wind up with the most risqué of all the fashion choices?’

Taking her mind off of her own outfit, Honour gave the expectant specialist a moment of scrutiny. There wasn't much she could really say: it was a high-priced Louis Valise dress, and it looked it. The pleated sheer fabric and black inner bodice were an elegant and provocative complement to her pink coat and teal-cyan mane, while the black-strapped 'gladiator' sandals with their shiny studs emphasized her legs. Honour honestly couldn't imagine a better look for her; not that she was any kind of fashion designer, but still -- it was true what Cosmoponitan asserted: the little black dress was still a mare's best friend. And somehow, Glamerspear’s Silver Ram -- which she'd mounted on a black ribbon, instead of the normal blue-and-white -- was the perfect accessory for it, too.

"I honestly can't think of how you could have done any better."

Lily scoffed amusedly. "I can, but you're right -- I'm as good as any colt's gonna get."

Lifting an eyebrow, she tilted her head and looked around the corporal to eye her tail. "So you decided to stick with the braids? I'm not complaining, but I was kinda looking forward to maybe a new 'do, ya know?"

Honour’s braids were her braids, and as close as all of them had become, she didn't feel the need to explain her mane and tail choices to the specialist.

Not right now, anyways.

"Just braids."

Glamerspear leaned back like she was worried she'd touched a nerve.

She hadn't, not really.

"Okay, sure. Ready to go downstairs?"

Honour wasn't.

"Yeah, let's go."

Lily’s horn lit up as she telekinetically opened the door, and both of them headed out into the hallway. Without a care to anypony who might see her, Honour walked to the staircase, down to the ground floor, and over to the large double doors to the Royal Engineer's room.

‘He'd better be ready.’

She didn’t want a repeat of Friday morning's foalish fiasco. Not bothering to knock, she turned the handle and pushed in. Ebonshield and Sparkshower were both sitting in the living-room area on the sofa, and across from them in the club chair was their Very Important Pony who was very much not a pony.

Everypony turned to look at Bound and Glamerspear, and one of them, at least, relished the attention.

"All right, fillies and foals! Are we ready to get this party started?"

The Royal Engineer got to his feet, while Sparkshower hopped off onto her hooves while Ebonshield slinked down on hers. The Royal Engineer’s suit looked every bit as good on him as it did when she saw his final fitting at Bridle Path Clothiers. But Honour did notice his stylish new boutonnière: a cluster of four carnations, pink, yellow, purple, and sepia, with their stems all bundled up with a coil of shiny copper wire.

‘Where'd he get that?’

It wasn't in Sparkshower's morning haul from the flower market in Tallyho square; not all wired up, anyways, though he did ask her to get one carnation blossom of each color available. Then the corporal remembered all the tooling and equipment on the tables surrounding his desk, just over on her left.

‘Of course, he must have made it himself.’

Sparkshower bubbled her way forward in her pink dress. "Wow, Lily, black really looks good on you! And Corporal -- I mean, Honour -- that's some wrap you've got on!"

‘Take the compliment, Honour.’

"Thanks, Artemis."

As the Royal Engineer stepped over, the earth pony nodded towards his lapel. "Very colorful, sir."

He smiled amiably, looking embarrassed. "I had some copper wiring at hand and, well, what can I say but that inspiration took me?"

She couldn't help but notice that the colors corresponded to the coat colors of his guards.

Sparkshower felt compelled to point out the obvious. "It's one color for each of us, isn't that nice?"

Honour nodded. "I noticed." That was a bit too sarcastic for the upbeat mood, though, so she followed up. "Very considerate of you, sir."

He chuckled. "Let's just say that as much as none of you are on duty guarding me, I am still rather hoping that I won't find myself completely abandoned in a sea of unfamiliar faces tonight."

Then he laughed, smiling. "But don't worry; if I do, I'll manage. It'd hardly be the first time."

She hadn't really thought about that. Not that she was planning on ditching her VIP, but the idea that, for him, the Gala would be a more alien experience than it would be for any of them was a novel one. So far, attending the Gala had mostly been all about her and the other guards.

Sparkshower and Glamerspear's fight over the ticket.

Ebonshield getting in on the action.

Shopping for dresses.

Yes, there was Anon's suit, but he'd basically taken care of it himself; Honour had just been along for the ride. Anyways, even if she’d felt like drowning her troubles, she didn't think she necessarily needed to ditch him. He had seen the corporal get pretty hammered already this week, and she’d seen him almost blackout drunk. There weren't really any secrets between them, party-wise.

"I'm sure you won't find yourself in that situation, sir."

The Royal Engineer held up a gloved hand. "It's kind of you to say so, but let me state for the record that I don't want any of you to ruin your nights for my sake. We see each other almost every day, so I'm sure you all are craving some liberty of association. Anyways, enough logistics talk -- logistics has the evening off, too. Shall we?"

"Yes, sir!"

"Yay!"

"Heck yeah!"

"¡Vámonos!"

Suggested background music: Mariss Jansons and the Vienna Philharmonic - 'Ballszene', by Joseph Hellmesberger
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_Qgri3-nKVA

The five of them exited his room and arranged themselves in a line-abreast formation, with the Royal Engineer occupying the place of honor in the middle, Bound at his right, Ebonshield at his left, Glamerspear on the far right, and Sparkshower at the far left. It was not quite a march, but it was definitely a bold walk as they headed down the wide hallway of Canterlot Palace's West wing's South annex.

And despite her apprehensions, Honour felt -- well, she felt happy. Everypony was excited, everypony was in a good mood, and everypony had something to look forward to. For Sparkshower, Honour imagined it was her big group-performance Lipizzaner waltz with the Royal Engineer. It should be a fun display; the earth pony resolved to try to watch it. Glamerspear, Honour felt sure, was looking to show off her dress -- and maybe her medal, too, since she was wearing it. Doubtless she was looking for an upgrade from Captain Mailedhoof. That shouldn't be too hard to manage at the Gala.

Honour wasn’t quite certain what Ebonshield was after, considering she already had a young beau from the Schola under her wing. She was probably just looking forward to a great big party. And considering how the other batpony Stars treated her and the other members of her Temple, Honour thought she'd be happy to potentially be the center of attention, rather than being disdainfully ignored as the leader of a group of tolerated heretics with unsavory professions.

What about the Royal Engineer? Besides the dance with Sparkshower, he seemed content enough just to be invited. Well, Honour knew he could hold his drink, and he’d mentioned he wanted to dance, so hopefully he'd find somepony to partner up with. If he didn’t pair up before hitting the floor, then perhaps his moves could attract a companion. Honour didn't know if it would be as easy as Lieutenant Kilfeather suggested, and she doubted anypony really got anywhere past first or second 'base,' to use a sporting analogy, but still -- it was the Gala.

Equestria's big magical night.

As their troupe turned out of the annex and into the wing's main corridor, Honour started to see the palace become a little more alive and magical than it ordinarily was. Down the hall, she could see larger groups of ponies, while at their end of the corridor, every now and then, a palace servant went scurrying by, pausing only to give a polite bow or curtsy and looking pleased when the five of them stopped to politely give one in return.

After all, what was the rush? The Gala was the Gala, and it wasn’t going anywhere without them. Honour could leave her worries upstairs in her room. 'Nunc est bibendum, nunc pede libero pulsanda tellus', as the ancient unicorns said. She was onboard for the drinking part, but Honour still was not sold on dancing. Maybe if Castlerook asked her in a moment off...

Anyways, it didn’t matter. She’d have a good time either way.

Everypony would have a good time. That was the magic power of Canterlot, of the Palace, and of the Princesses -- provided one believed in them.

And at her core, Honour did.

She started to hear voices emanating from down the hall, and a minute later, their five-abreast slow charge was forced to relax to a more leisurely stroll as they hit traffic. They weren't at the main entrance quite yet, but Palace rooms in this wing were full of hundreds of visiting dignitaries and diplomats from across Equestria and beyond, and Honour’s group of five was neither so nimble nor so narrow that they could zig-zag around them.

As she’d said, though -- what was the rush? They should take the time to enjoy the palace, because for now at least, these hallways have been decked out with ribbons and flowers and banners. There was no question that the stage was set for a wonderful evening.

Eventually, the murmur of voices grew louder, mixing with the sound of a nearby string quartet, and they reached the end of the corridor. Here was the upper level of the short northern section of Canterlot Palace's main gallery, and their group joined a few dozen other ponies waiting in a loose line to be let in to the rotunda, where Princess Celestia and Princess Luna received guests, and the lower east, west, and north galleries and their adjoining salons hosted the Gala's indoor delights.

Anonymous reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper protecting a slim pack of unmistakable golden slips.

The Grand Galloping Gala's Golden Tickets.

"I suppose I ought to dole these out now?"

Probably, yet it didn’t seem right. Like he was cutting them all loose.

Honour shook her head. "Why don't you hoof them to the doorcolt all together? We're arriving together, we ought to be announced together."

Sparkshower peeked over, worried. "Uhm... We can keep them after that, though, right?"

Even a used golden ticket was quite the collectible.

Honour nodded. "Of course, Artemis."

‘I should remember to stick to first names; this is the Gala, not a barracks meeting.’

"Yay!" Then the pegasus furrowed her brow. "...Uh... Do you have something to carry yours in under that, Honour?"

She actually didn’t.

Anonymous smiled as he fanned out the tickets in anticipation of hoofing -- handing, rather -- them over. "There's plenty of room for them back in my pocket for the rest of the evening if that's a worry. I won't lose them, and they'll make lovely souvenirs for each of us."

The earth pony turned to him. "Thank you, sir. I think that'd be best."

First names were all well and good with her compatriots, but they didn't feel proper with the Royal Engineer. He was the Royal Engineer, the Very Important Pony, even though he wasn't actually a pony. And he may have made her feel Very Important as well through having secured her a ticket, but she was still just his guard.

The group collectively took another step forward, and they found themselves the next ones to be announced after a unicorn noblepony couple with what looked like their teenage foal. The mustachioed unicorn in a tailcoat cleared his throat, holding their three tickets up in his telekinesis.

"The Lord Charles Bourbon of Mills-upon-Allier! The Lady Mathilde Bourbon! The Master Robert Bourbon!"

It wasn’t exactly a shout, but he faced towards the busy rotunda and he certainly made himself loud enough to be heard. After a moment, the doorcolt floated the tickets back to the nobles, and they proceeded down the steps into the rotunda.

The five of them stepped up to be announced, and Anonymous handed over the tickets to the unicorn, who took a quick sip from a glass of water first. "By Appointment to their Majesties Princess Celestia and Princess Luna, Anonymous, the Royal Engineer of Equestria! Purity Ebonshield, Seventh of the Temple of the Shining Stellar Dance! Honour Bound of the Royal Guard, Order of the Silver Star! Lily Glamerspear of the Royal Guard, Centurion of the Order of the Ram! Artemis Sparkshower of the Royal Guard!"

It was quite a mouthful, even with pauses in between each pony.

"Their Majesties bid you welcome to the Grand Galloping Gala and invite you to receive their welcome in person, below."

The doorcolt elegantly waved them in and floated the tickets back to Anonymous, who replaced them in their wrappings and pocketed them.

Before them was the rotunda, filled with hundreds of ponies, many of whom were in a winding line to greet the two Princesses at the top of a set of stairs leading to the South Gallery's upper level. But to join them, first they had to get down into the rotunda.

Honour didn't think she’d realized just how big the staircase down was; there was room for the five of them, and at least another ten more. And the steps were almost awkwardly steep. Honour glanced over at Glamerspear and noted the tell-tale halo around her horn and hooves indicating that she was using the same grip-enhancing spell as she did in the Rookery's Cave of Pillars.

‘She still hasn't learned to share.’

Sparkshower and Ebonshield held their wings half-open to steady themselves, while Anonymous strode carefully down beside Honour, politely taking his time so as not to leave her behind. That was nice of him; the long, poofy shawl was a bit hard to manage.

‘Just take it one step at a time, Honour.’

As she reached a third of the way down, her ears picked out a loud cry from below and to the left.

"Make a hole! Make a hole, you landlubbers!"

‘Oh, no. No, no, no!’

Her eyes wide, she glanced left and right, trying to find a way out of her predicament. With another two-thirds of the staircase to go before the rotunda floor, though, there was no way she could disappear into the crowd in time.

‘Maybe Eb or Sparkshower could pick me up and just fly me out of here?’

"Lively now! Make a hole!"

Another swarthy voice Honour didn't recognize piped up in support. "Avast! Make way for the bos'n of the Tambermane!"

‘Of course he's got his crew with him.’

She could already hear the sturdy, tell-tale tap-tap-tap-tock of his steps, too. There was nothing for it but to just get to the bottom of the steps and let the chips fall where they may.

Just as Honour cleared the final perilous hurdle, there was a bit of jostling and the crowd of elegantly-dressed Gala party-goers was somewhat forcibly parted to admit three clean and proper, but somewhat less elegantly dressed sailors. And there he was, standing on his three good legs and one wooden hind-peg, flanked by a pair of young ponies who were undoubtedly his bosun's mate apprentices.

Recommended background music: Dropkick Murphys - "I'm Shipping Up to Boston"
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x-64CaD8GXw

Leeward looked exactly as she remembered him, with his shock of thick, black mane on a Windsor-tan coat, and the thin moustache and trimmed goatee which went along with it. He was wearing his formal uniform, a navy-blue double-breasted jacket with polished bronze buttons and a white vest underneath. A white cap with a navy brim, properly centred on his head, completed the ensemble.

And as soon as he saw her, he grinned widely, revealing the gold tooth that matched the pair of earrings he wore. "There she is! There she is! Ahh, a treasure as beautiful as the day I first set eyes upon her! Haha! What a delight it is to see her once again, lads!"

Still beaming with excitement, he looked her up and down, then turned to look at the Royal Engineer and the rest of the quaternion. "Well? Aren't you going to introduce me to your companions, Honoria?"

Glamerspear burst out in a snort. "Honoria??"

The earth pony took a deep breath and turned to the Royal Engineer, who looked puzzled. "Sir, may I introduce you to the boatswain of the Tambermane, Leeward Bound... my father."

Without waiting for anything more, Leeward immediately sauntered up towards the Royal Engineer and extended a forehoof. "A pleasure, sir! A pleasure! And you are?"

It took her VIP a second to react before he extended a gloved hand. "Er, I'm Anonymous, the Royal Engineer of Equestria. A pleasure to meet you as well."

Her VIP's title made Leeward do a double-take; clearly he’d only heard Honour’s name being announced, and not the whole group. "Why, Your Lordship, I beg your pardon! A great pleasure, Your Lordship! And may it please Your Lordship to learn that the Tambermane is the fastest Baltimare Clipper out of Fillydelphia! Across the Celestial Sea to the Griffish isles in twelve days!"

Honour continued the introductions. "This is Lily Glamerspear, a fellow soldier and a Centurion of the Ram."

Full of energy, Leeward scarcely waited for her to finish speaking before he advanced upon Glamerspear. "A Centurion! Goodness gracious, I should bow to you, madam!"

He did just that, theatrically removing his hat as he did so. Even his two mates, standing off to the side, doffed their own, mirroring his actions. "I pray you keep us safe from Changelings and Dragons and all other manner of beasts and scoundrels, brave Centurion!"

As Glamerspear tried to figure out just how to react, Honour indicated Sparkshower. "Artemis Sparkshower, another comrade-in-arms."

Leeward took her proffered forehoof in both of his own, shaking it eagerly. "Any friend of my sweet Honoria is a friend of mine! And may I be only the second pony tonight to welcome you aboard this fine Gala, miss Sparkshower!"

She seemed confusedly pleased by the encounter.

Finally, he stepped over to Ebonshield.

"And Purity Ebonshield, of the Night Guard." Honour held no hopes that that final appellation would quell his excitement, yet as Ebonshield haughtily held out a forehoof, she saw Leeward pause.

But it was only long enough for him to once again doff his cap, taking her hoof in his, and bending over theatrically to kiss it. "Madam, a creature of your elegant and stunning beauty would easily make a lesser colt forget the warm hearth and welcoming bed he has waiting for him such a long distance away."

That put a grin on the sergeant's face. Then he kissed her hoof again and withdrew, still bowing down -- not an easy feat for a peg-legged old sailor.

Finally, he sat down on his haunches and clapped his forehooves together, an enormous smile on his face. "Well! What a wondrous meeting! I tell you, lads..." Raising a forehoof, he addressed himself to his two younger crewmates. "...Find yourself a good wife and make yourself a child. The pleasure of seeing them again after a long journey is an immeasurable joy. Now, Mister Murphy!"

The one on his left stepped forward.

"Go and harpoon us one of those waiters what's ferrying glasses of champagne. And mind you he has enough stock for all of us! Lively now, for this is a reunion worthy of a good drink!"

With a quick nod, the sailor hustled off into the crowd.

"Mister Woody! I espied a few ponies with cameras about when we were higher up the rungs of the staircase! See that you haul one of them over here to take some pictures of a joyful old sailor with his beautiful daughter!"

But the second seacolt furrowed his brow in objection. "Beggin' your pardon, bos'n, but I believe they's workin' for the press, snappin' celebrities an' the like."

He must be a new one if he thought that her father could be dissuaded from anything once he'd made up his mind for it.

"So? They'll be laden with rolls of film for the evening and can surely spare us a few frames. And I'll pay good bits for a fine print. Step to it, Mister Woody!"

With a bob of his head, the second one headed off, and there was the briefest, longest, awkwardest moment where Leeward had run out of things to say, and everypony was just sort of awkwardly smiling at each other.

That's when things were mercifully interrupted by another new arrival.

"I say, Mister Bound, what's all the commotion here?"

In from the small clearing stepped no common sailor; by his pressed blue tailcoat and the gold-trimmed bicorne hat he was clearly one of the ship's officers.

‘Judging by his bushy grey beard and mustache, he must at least be the first mate.’

Honour’s father promptly stepped up. "Ah, Captain Barr! May I introduce you to my daughter, Honoria Bound. She's a decorated member of the Royal Guard, a devoted follower of the warrior's code, and a recipient of the Silver Star, sir."

The captain gave a polite nod in her direction.

She didn't think she could curtsy back with this big poofy shawl on, so she just nodded.

From the left, an earth pony waiter approached with a tray of champagne glasses on his back which he was barely managing to keep straight while being hustled by Murphy. "Drinks as ordered, bos'n!"

"Excellent, Mister Murphy! Captain, sir, will you toast the miracle of family and friendship with us?"

The captain nodded. "Certainly, Mister Bound."

Leeward immediately whirled around the waiter like a hurricane, dispersing the champagne flutes in a flurry of hoof-and-peg motions. In the blink of an eye, everypony found themselves with a drink, and her father instantly pivoted towards the distant Princesses at the top of the staircase and raised his glass.

"Ladies and gentlecolts, to Their Majesties Princess Luna and Princess Celestia! May their Grand Galloping Gala bring parents together with children, husbands together with wives, and true friends together with each other!"

In characteristic form, Leeward's bubbling, boisterous enthusiasm and good cheer drew several assorted ponies around them in, with raised glasses and replies of "Hear, hear," until there were almost two dozen drinking with them. And with his audience thus enlarged to what he considered a suitable number, after taking a sip of his own, he immediately launched into another speech.

"Twenty-four years ago, ladies and gentlecolts -- twenty-four years ago, I tell you that I became the most blessed colt in Equestria when my ship returned to port and I saw the precious cargo the stork had brought to Fillydelphia in my absence. For what father could ask for more than as sweet and beautiful a daughter as my Honoria?"

‘Oh, sweet Celestia, somepony put a stop to this now before it gets worse.’

"Though each voyage without her was a painful absence, each return to port brought the joy of seeing her again as if for the first time..."

‘Anypony, please -- anypony, interrupt him.’

Leeward lifted his jacket and displayed his wooden limb. "Not even the loss of my leg, ladies and gentlecolts, could dampen my spirits. I tell you now, it was the worst storm the Celestial Sea has ever seen, the night as black as pitch-smoke."

‘Tartarus, he's telling the story of his leg again.’

Honour would take anything -- fire, earthquake, tornado, changeling invasion, meteor.

"And there I was, the ablest seapony aboard. My place was high up at the upper topmast, a hundred hooves above the deck, and at the farthest out along the yard, adjacent the yardarm. The ship heaved and rolled every which way but straight, as we worked furiously to furl the sail, before the winds could snap the topmast straight off at the masthead."

He didn’t even pause when Woody returned with a smartly-dressed unicorn mare wielding a very expensive-looking camera, merely waving a forehoof and stepping over next to Honour for a quick photo.

The photographer was in and out in a flash, departing with a haughty scowl for the sailor who hauled her there.

"Even with the storm wailing in our ears, we could hear the cables groaning and the wood creaking. Just as we secured the sail, the ship crested a tremendous wave and plunged down into a trough so deep it must have been a maw of Cerberus itself -- and Tartarus' warden, ladies and gentlecolts, has sharp teeth and a mighty bite, for he snapped the yard in twain, sending me plummeting down into the sea, tangled up with the stays and the yard's hoofrope to be dragged behind the ship."

Her father theatrically got up on his hind leg and peg, holding up a forehoof. "I thought I must be doomed to the depths of Tartarus. Doomed to never see land and my sweet Honoria again. I struggled against the cords which bound me, swallowing gallons of briny water, never knowing which way was up, with only scant moments now and then to breathe and to cry out before I was plunged down once more."

He somberly shook his head. "When at last the crew was able to haul me out, by the hourglass I had thrashed in the sea for nearly an hour. Yes, ladies and gentlecolts, though the black doors of Tartarus stood open wide to receive me, I stubbornly refused to pass the threshold. Yet my defiance angered the dark spirits below, and they slammed the gates shut on my hind hoof, so entangled with cable and battered by the heavy tackle that it was ruined beyond recovery, and so the ship's surgeon told me that it would have to go."

Just as Leeward made a chopping motion with his free forehoof, another sailor burst through the crowd. "Captain Barr, sir! There's trouble in the North Gallery!"

That brought the story to a screeching halt, thank Celestia.

The Captain put his half-empty glass back down on the waiter-colt's tray. "Trouble, Mister Lynch?"

"Aye, sir! I think a fight's about to break out between some of ours and some from the Quincy, on account of some rotten things they've done said about the Tambermane and her crossing record! The guards have been summoned already, sir!"

"Intolerable! Mister Bound, pray come and help me sort out this mess."

‘Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you.’

‘Thank you, drunken, brawling, ill-tempered merchant sailors and your pointless arguments about which boat crossed the Celestial Sea two minutes faster than the other one.’

Deflated, Honour’s father put his champagne glass down beside the Captain's and gave a quick bow to the small crowd. "I beg your pardon, but this tale must await another telling."

Hustling after Captain Barr with a tap-tap-tap-tock, he shot her a smile over his shoulder. "Now, mind you're still here for me when I get back, Honoria! I want to hear all you've got to say about your last year!"

As soon as he was a few ponies deep in the crowd and out of earshot, she turned up to the Royal Engineer. "Sir, would you mind terribly if I skipped the Princesses' receiving line for now and went somewhere else?"

He looked down at her in shock, but after a moment, he started to nod. "If that's what you want, I'll join you."

Even though her tall VIP stood out like a tower in the crowd, it was still somehow a relief to know she wouldn't be fleeing alone.

"Thank you."

Glamerspear, her brow furrowed, stepped up. "Hey, I'm not splitting the party just yet. If you wanna head off, I'm coming with. You in, Artemis?"

The pegasus nodded. "Sure!"

Even Ebonshield stepped over. "And I will come also. May I suggest perhaps the garden?"

‘Anywhere that's not here sounds good to me.’

"Sure."

And off they all went.

Chapter 135

Lily Glamerspear

Specialist Lily Glamerspear -- ‘scratch that, no.’

‘This is the Gala.’

Lily was in and past the gate, not just waiting in the antechamber. She was wearing her Louis Valise dress, not her armor or her artillery greens.

She did have her Centurion's Silver Ram around her neck, so maybe she was Centurion Lily Glamerspear, but that still seemed too formal for the night -- especially with the mood so recently lightened by the hilarious reveal of the uptight and morose Corporal Bound's rambunctious, swashbuckling, peg-legged father.

As Lily’s group of five finished ascending one of the staircases at the back wall, they passed through a gallery-hall and out onto one of the smaller upper terraces, where the party was already in full swing. Standing beside the unicorn, Artemis looked wistfully back down at the doors. No doubt she was thinking of how the group had just made an end-run around Their Royal Majesties' receiving line, but there would always be time for that later. The joint rulers of Equestria would still be receiving guests for another hour or two, before the scheduled festivities really began.

With their corporal leading the way, they collectively came to a halt in a little, semi-private terraced section of the gardens, complete with a few benches and a small bar table -- and, crucially, with a white-jacketed colt ladling out the brightly-colored contents of a punch bowl into wide-brimmed cocktail glasses.

Lily licked her lips, but the drinks would have to wait for the moment, too.

Honour tried to position a tree and a few bushes between herself and the palace doors, as she nestled into the nook. Once she’d settled herself, Lily pounced.

The unicorn cleared her throat and spoke loudly. "So, Honoria..."

That earned Lily an incensed stare, which she returned with a grin. But, in an act of appeasement, she lit up her horn and floated over a round of drinks from the bar-table. Honour frowned, but she took the proffered beverage, and so too did Eb, Sparks, and Anon. Once Lily got a glass of the orange liquor in her hoof as well, she raised it up in salutation.

"...Let's have a toast to your newfound first name!"

Everybody took a drink.

‘Mmm, rum punch.’

Were they serving this as aperitif because of all the sailors present?

With a graceless sniff and wipe of her mouth, the corporal grumbled aloud. "Let's get things straight: My name is Honour. 'Honoria' is my mother's name. I don't know why Leeward always insists on using it for me, too."

Artemis nursed her glass, flexing her wings slightly as if she wanted to say something, but she just looked to Lily, the instigator of both the toast and the investigation into the corporal's designation. Purity was already taking an eager second sip. Aggressive, given how early it was, but Lily knew that the bat could hold her liquor.

"Alright. But seriously though, this is the 'somepony' you didn't want to meet here? Your father, the scene-stealing sailor?"

Honour sighed and nodded her head. "Yeah."

Lily cocked an eyebrow. "And why? Just because he was going to talk everypony's ears off with his sailing stories?"

"That's part of the reason."

The unicorn hung on for the continuation, but when it wasn’t forthcoming, she arched her eyebrows and waved her free forehoof around in circles to draw it out.

Honour still seemed reluctant to say anything, and that's when Artemis burst out. "I thought your father was sweet! I mean, I wasn't going to say 'no' if you really wanted to avoid him, but I still don't understand why we had to leave! I liked his story! And everypony else seemed to like it, too!"

But the corporal remained clammed up, prompting Purity to join in, too. "In effect, I found him most charming in our brief encounter. I might even say that to me he appears to embody one of the properties stereotypical of ponies Equestrian: the animated narration of histories."

She wasn’t really wrong on that front.

Lily picked up where the others left off. "Hey, stereotypes do exist for a reason. All he was missing was launching into a choreographed musical dance about his sailing experiences."

Honour shuddered with revulsion. "He's got one. But he prefers to sing it with at least a dozen of his crew as chorus and backup dancers. I guarantee you: after he breaks up that sailors' tussle, he'll be grabbing mariners for that very purpose."

Sparkshower pawed her free forehoof on Their Majesties' exquisitely-maintained turf. "Aw, I bet it's really fun to watch. Why aren't we there? Isn't this the Gala? Isn't it made for singing and dancing?"

Lily shot her a grin as she finished another sip. "And drinking."

Ebonshield knocked back the rest of her cocktail, but Lily noted that the Royal Engineer hadn't touched his glass beyond that first toast, while everypony else had gotten at least halfway through theirs.

‘Is something the matter?’

Something to check into when Lily was done with the corporal.

Honour turned to Sparkshower with an apologetic frown. "Look, I'm sorry, Artemis. You can go back in if you really want to, at least watching from the top of the staircase, but I just really don't like being around my father."

With a sigh, she swirled her drink a few times and then took another mouthful of it. "I realize he can give off a good first impression. And if I'm being honest, he's a decent singer and a decent dancer, too, even with the leg. But all I can think about when I'm around him is all of the problems he's caused."

That raised a few eyebrows, Lily’s included. "Are you kidding me? What kind of problems could be caused by a colt like that? Friendly, charming, well-spoken -- what's the issue?"

Honour just shook her head. "It's family troubles, Glamerspear. You don't want to hear them."

The unicorn snorted. "Hey, I thought we agreed to be on a first-name basis here."

Shrugging, she set her eyes on another round for herself and for the eager sergeant, lighting up her horn to somewhat aggressively hoist over a fresh pair of full glasses from the drinks table, even as she sent the empties back. The tuxedoed stud serving bar treated the exchange as absolutely nothing out of the ordinary, and duly slipped the dirty glasses down into a tray awaiting its inevitable pickup by a busser, before immediately preparing another two glasses for whomsoever thirsty party guests might wander by.

Eb duly took the proffered drink in hoof as Lily continued. “But if you really want to clam up, I suppose that's your prerogative. I don't have any compunction against talking family stuff, myself. And I still see my dad occasionally, even though I hate his guts. I can't imagine your Mister Leeward Bound is worse than my Mister Lobeline Glamerspear."

Sparkshower suddenly drooped her wings in shock, her ears flattening against her head. "Lily, you don't get along with your father either? I didn't think you could find two ponies in all of Equestria who had problems with their family. But am I the only one among us who loves their parents?"

‘She really does come from a perfect agrarian idyll of a village, doesn't she?’

As with the chat about saltines and salt-licks, the corporal let her down easy. "It's more common than you might think, Artemis, but that doesn't mean it's common. Although it sometimes is more frequent among guardsponies -- joining the Guard is an easy way to get out of a toxic home, after all."

That seemed to reassure the pegasus mare enough to leave her merely concerned instead of outraged, prompting Honour to turn towards the unicorn. "I'm not getting into a who's-got-the-worst-dad argument with you, Lily."

Glamerspear just snorted. "Yeah, 'cause you'd lose. My mom worked double shifts as a nurse to put my three brothers through college, and would have done the same for me if I hadn't joined the Guard instead. Whereas my dad's a chronically-drunken, chronically-unemployed layabout who'd beat anypony who got between him and his bartender or his bottle -- and that 'anypony' included his family members, regardless of age or sex."

Sparkshower gasped. "That's horrible, Lily!"

She nodded. "It sure is. I still think about shoving a spear down his throat every now and then." With an aggressive sniff unworthy of her Louis Valise dress, Lily took a sip of her fresh drink, and the rum cleared her head a bit. "But then I remember: he's not worth it. My brothers and I are all moved out, and he's just a sad old drunk now who's so wrecked his body and brain with hooch that he can barely stand on his own four hooves."

A dull pain set in on her forehead -- she was either taking the alcohol too fast, or maybe it was just too cold and she was getting an ice-cream headache. "I feel bad for mom since she takes care of him by herself, with occasional help from Lavender -- the youngest of my older brothers, who still lives in Manehattan. Even for all his faults, I know mom'd still miss dad if he was gone. And he can't really hurt anypony but himself anymore."

Lily tried to put on a smile and force her way through both the headache and the ugly memories. "And that's my happy family story. Great way to start off the Gala, huh? So what's your beef with the peg-leg, then?"

Honour let out a deep sigh. "Celestia, you always have to put your hoof in it, don't you? All right, I guess if I'm going to ask us to keep avoiding him, I guess I ought to explain why." Shaking her head, she furrowed her brow. "It's not like in your story. Leeward never laid a hoof on me or my mother. Not that he really would have had the chance to, anyways -- he was always out sailing, away for weeks at a time, cruising across the Celestial Sea, and then back on shore in Fillydelphia only for a few days before heading out once more on another voyage. In fact, if you counted up all the time I've actually spent with my own father, it probably doesn't even add up to one whole year."

Lily nodded, starting to get the idea.

"Sometimes I feel like I barely know him, which makes it really awkward when he tries to act all fatherly towards me, like just now. But that's not why I avoid him -- not the only reason, at least." Honour pointed a forehoof at Ebonshield. "You hit the nail on the head when you said he reminded you of Equestrian stereotypes. In fact, he is an Equestrian stereotype. A walking, talking, singing, and dancing Equestrian stereotype. He's always in a good mood, always optimistic about the future, and he always sees the best in everything. He's patriotic, gregarious, musical, and unflinchingly positive about life..."

That didn’t sound bad, just maybe annoying.

Like Lily’s feelings about her nerdy brothers, when she was growing up. She still wasn’t a fan of geeky crap, but she did appreciate the three of them for being there for her when she needed it. And there was no question about loving them as family, either.

The corporal looked around the circle, holding up a forehoof as if testifying. "I know I can be negative at times-"

"That's an understatement."

Honour ignored Lily’s interjection. "-But I like to think I'm just being realistic. Or at least I try to be. And that's the problem with Leeward: reality doesn't mean a thing to him."

Lowering her free hoof, she averted her gaze down towards the ground. "He let me, and more importantly my mother, get away with everything. If she'd frittered away his salary on some scam, leaving us with no new money for clothes or horseshoes and an empty pantry, he didn't want to hear about it, all while hoofing over a fresh purse with his latest salary. If she'd been seen dallying with some other colt while he was out on a cruise, working to bring money in to the family, he didn't care as long as she was in his hooves when he was back on shore. As for me, if I skipped class or got into a fight, instead of setting me straight, he'd just offer up saccharine dreams that I'd sail straight and true the next time he was away."

With a sniffle, she lifted her head back up again. "He isn't a drunkard, and he didn't beat either of us, though sometimes I think it would've been better if he had. He works hard and he's done pretty well for himself, career-wise. He even married above his station: my mother, Honoria Du Rendal, is descended from some old-blood noble family, though she's far removed from any remaining wealth and she's basically never had anything for herself, which is I guess why she kept making frivolous purchases and dumb investments. But he's just such a damned glad-hoofer; he trusts that every problem his family had on shore will sort itself out on its own. I could never get through to him how bad things were with mom running the household in his absence -- and they sometimes got pretty bad. There was a week where my mother sent me out to basically beg for scraps to feed us, because she'd yet again wasted his sailor's pay on some ludicrously obvious fraud investment. And I was only a filly, then. Ponies were always taking advantage of my mother, one way or another, and he didn't care to hear it, let alone lift a hoof to try to put a stop to it. Later, when I started to rebel by skipping out on school and hanging with a tough crowd, he barely reacted at all -- even after my mother raised the alarm about it."

‘Geez.’

Lily’s dad got pretty rough physically, but it sounded like Honour's issues with her dad really got into her head.

That might actually be worse.

The corporal trailed off, and nopony could find anything to say for a moment.

Then their Very Important Pony, the one who wasn’t a pony, looked on sympathetically and spoke up with a pointed question.

"What did he think about your divorce?"

She scoffed. "What divorce? As far as he's concerned, I'm just 'temporarily separated' from my cheating, miscreant ex-husband. Never mind all the paperwork I had to fill out and the meeting with a magistrate to formally terminate the marriage; he thinks all I need to do is give that colt another chance and things will work out in the end."

With a furious glare, the corporal looked up at their VIP. "That's probably what makes me hate being around him the most. Whenever we meet, he inevitably brings the subject of my marriage up, as if we haven't talked about it a million times before. I'm sick and tired of saying 'no' to somepony who I barely know and who never listens to a word I say, unless it's good news." She trailed off once more, and, unable to think of how to properly end her rant, she just looked down at her drink, swirled it around a bit more, then finished it off.

Her problems hitting it off with that slow-playing sergeant from back-home were starting to make a lot more sense. It wasn’t just her once-bitten-twice-shy attitude after her divorce; it was because she had more than just her failed marriage staring back at her from Fillydelphia.

Glamerspear broke the silence. "Your family's a big reason you've kept things slow with that Castlerook character, isn't it?"

Honour sighed, pulling her bottom lip up and flattening her ears. "Yeah. Even though I obviously wouldn't be living with my parents, I still don't really want to be there at all. To be fair, mom's not so bad now; she finally wised up, in her middle age. Me enlisting in the Royal Guard was a real wake-up call to her aspirations of grandeur. And I think my divorce put her own situation -- with a devoted and hard working, if hopelessly idealistic husband -- into perspective. She was sympathetic when my marriage fell apart, and that stopped her continuing own dalliances, too. I don't mind talking with her any more. And at least she was always around, so I actually think of her as my parent."

‘Yeah, yeah, yeah, ramble on.’

‘She's missing the point, though.’

"Okay. And does your Mister Castlerook know that Fillydelphia, and specifically Leeward, is the hangup?"

Honour furrowed her brow. "He was there. For all of it: we used to hang out as foals." A grin appeared on her face. "When I started acting up, I joined him in a small roving gang of youngsters. We were the terror of the neighbourhood, always getting into trouble and scuffles. Nothing major, you understand, just always making pests of ourselves, and feuding with similar groups in adjacent streets. I even spent a few nights in a jail cell, though I was never criminally charged."

‘Pfft, 'terror,' yeah right.’

Glamerspear imagined pissed-off shopkeepers shaking forehooves at retreating foals, and sandlot hoofball games ending with bruises and bumps and mothers wagging their tongues at children about sending them off to live on the other side of Equestria. Ponice dragging off quarrelsome teenagers and chucking them in the drunk tank to 'set them straight.' In Manehattan, real gangs pulled out shanks and left blood on the street. Anyways, she was dodging the question again.

Lily put a forehoof on Honour’s shoulder and leaned in. "Yeah, okay, he was there, mare -- but does he know? Have you told him?"

She swallowed. "I... No. Not really, I guess. It hasn't come up."

‘Well, there's the problem right there.’

Pulling her forehoof off the corporal’s shoulder, Lily threw it up in the air and shook her head. "And that's why the two of you are struggling to get that wagon hitched up. I mean, c'mon, Honour, clear communication is 'Relationships 101.'"

‘And didn't she say he was here from Filly to help guard the Gala?’

Lily slyly raised an eyebrow. "Is he here tonight?"

Honour nodded. "Yeah. His platoon is posted at one of the connecting hallways to the East wing; or it should be, unless they were reassigned at the last minute. They'll be there until the sailors start to file back to the docks."

Lily blew out a whinny. "Well, there's no time like the present. You want to avoid your dad, the other side of the palace sounds like a good place to start."

She frowned. "He's on duty, Lily."

"Yeah, on duty as a guard posted in an empty hallway. They're there to stop guests from trotting off to sneak some hanky-panky in Their Majesties' Personal Suites, and as backup muscle if the sailors get out of hoof. And they're probably bored out of their minds, or will be soon." Lily chuckled and looked around the group. "I mean, let's be honest. Most guard duty is pretty mind-numbing. I'm happy we're the exception, but we are an exception."

Winking at the Royal Engineer, she shot him a smile. "Of course that's all thanks to you, sir."

Anonymous smiled amusedly. "I thought we were supposed to be on a first-name basis here, Miss Glamerspear."

‘Ooh, he put a nice inflection on that.’

‘Still, though, maybe now's a good time to pivot.’

"Sorry, Anon. It's a tough habit to break off duty. But is something else wrong? You've barely touched your drink."

The Royal Engineer lifted up his glass and inspected it. "Oh, this? Ah, I didn't want to get hammered before dancing the Lipizzaner Waltz, that's all." With a smile, he looked down at Sparkshower, who was mid-drink "Even after all our practice, I'm still a little nervous about wrong-footing it. When is the dance, actually?"

Lowering her glass, Artemis licked her lips then smacked them. "It's just before the dining room opens at seven o'clock. That's in about an hour and a half. But don't worry, they'll announce when everypony should head over. More spectators makes for better photos of the dance, after all. And if there aren't enough couples -- er, pairs -- to fill the dance floor, as there usually aren't, then the Masters of the Dance go and pick good-looking twosomes out of the crowd to join in for the rehearsal at least."

Although this whole 'Lipizzaner Waltz' started as a fallback from Sparkshower's disastrous idea of dancing the Maypole with their VIP, Lily had to admire the effort she'd put into it. And it did sound kinda fun. "Seems like they play the dance like a big party game."

Artemis nodded excitedly at her. "Yes, that's what I've heard. Except it's for Lords and Ladies and all sorts of fancy elegant ponies!" As if suddenly remembering her chosen dance partner, she flushed red. "...Er, and for fancy elegant non-ponies, too!"

Anonymous chuckled. "It's all right; I understand the appeal of seeing and being seen in the company of fashionable peers. As I said, I'm excited about it myself."

Lily smirked. "Not as much as your dance partner is, I bet. But her enthusiasm'd be hard to top."

On cue, the giddy pegasus started to bounce up and down a bit, narrowly avoiding spilling her drink. "Oooooh, it's going to be sooooo wonderful! Thinking about it almost makes me forgive us skipping out on Their Majesties' receiving line!"

Honour looked apologetically over at her. "I am sorry about that, Artemis. But there'll be another time when we can greet them tonight, I'm sure."

Lily chimed in in support. "Yeah, it's not like Their Majesties are just going to disappear when the receiving line closes. So don't wear yourself out, there's plenty of party left."

Ebonshield cleared her throat. "Do any of you in fact know the schedule complete for tonight? I am of course, happy merely to be present, but curious also as to what activities await us."

Sparkshower immediately piped up. "There was a placard with times at the bottom of the stairs. The receiving line goes until six, then the waltz is at half past, the dining room opens at seven. After that, the main ballroom opens with formal dances at eight, including the Maypole dance, and then at ten-"

Lily interrupted. "At ten is when things really get started. The fussy old fogeys shuffle off home, the orchestra packs up, the DJ rolls in, the lights dim, the speakers blare, the Maypoles get turned into dancing-poles, and everypony can finally let 'er rip."

The red-robed batpony nodded, the black tassel of her hat swinging to and fro. "Ah, excellent. So I have more than four hours to find for myself a partner for dancing? Bueno."

Honour snorted dismissively, but Anonymous chimed in with praise. "With that striking outfit, Purity, I'm sure you'll have a line of suitors going around the whole ballroom."

Now it was Lily’s turn to snort. "Yeah, and all of 'em struggling to build up the courage to ask a batpony for a dance."

But the sergeant just smiled. "Ah, this is no trouble. If I see that I have admirers, I will simply pick one and make the invitation myself."

Everybody got a chuckle out of that. The really funny thing was, they all knew it was true. There was no doubt about her aggression when it came to finding herself her own partner. And she was getting plenty of looks in the nightclubs earlier in the week, and that was with a plain black bodysuit. If Honour's father hadn't swooped in and stolen the show with his boisterous joviality, she'd have turned every head in the room.

On that subject, Lily turned back towards the corporal. "So? You going to go talk to Mister Castlerook or not? He's only here temporarily, isn't he? He'll be heading back to Filly' in a few days. You don't want to waste that time."

Honour looked up at the Royal Engineer. "I, uhm... We talked about not splitting up the group and leaving our VIP alone, didn't we?"

But Anonymous put up his empty hand. "My concern was about being left completely alone, and I said it half in jest, too. Go, if you like. We can plan to link up again when the Lipizzaner Waltz begins. That's plenty of time to confer with your boyf-, er coltfriend, isn't it?"

Honour turned red to match her dress at his use of that term. "He's not actually-- It's complicated."

Lily nodded. "Yeah, and it's gonna stay complicated until you spill the beans to him."

She still looked a bit hesitant, so Lily lit up her horn and levitated her drink into the air to free up her limbs, then stepped up to their quaternion leader and planted her forehooves on Honour’s shoulders.

"If Fillydelphia is a deal-breaker, tell him, and talk to him about the alternatives." Lily jerked her head over towards Sparkshower, then beckoned her over. "Look at what happened to Artemis -- no offense, Sparks, and sorry to use you as an example -- when she had a communication issue with her colt."

The pegasus one-flapped her way over and Lily switched a forehoof onto her shoulder to bring her into a huddle. "I know I'm not exactly a role model here, but I've seen what happens to friends when they can't get things straight with their colt or mare. Especially recently, ya know?"

Artemis glumly nodded, and eventually, so too did Honour.

Releasing them from the huddle, Lily took a step back and got her drink in hoof once more. The two of them stood there a bit sheepishly, but Purity looked impishly over at her. "You seem tonight to be playing the role of the confidante of the relationships, Lily."

With a casual shrug, the unicorn took the final sip from her glass. "Somepony's got to, or else all five of us will go home from the biggest hook-up event of the year with empty hooves, hearts, and beds."

Eb grinned. "Perhaps you can play also the role of the maker of matches, then. Honour will go and speak to her Castile-rook, and we will stroll around the grounds and the palace and you will indicate to us the colts -- and the mares, for Anónimo -- to whom we should pay the attention particular in the evening, when the dancing modern begins."

‘She's got high expectations.’

But Lily liked a challenge, and she whinnied amusedly. "Oh, I can't pretend to be a guide to Gala society." Zipping her empty glass over to the bar and grabbing a new one, she grinned. "But hey, I might as well try. At least I can tell you who I think has managed to nail their outfits -- besides the five of us, obviously."

That brightened up their spirits, and even Honour polished off her drink and nodded to the group. "Okay. I'll meet you all in the ballroom when they call for the waltz."

Everyone nodded.

"Sounds like a plan." And with that, Lily telekinetically gathered the empty glasses from everypony -- except the Royal Engineer, who was still conservatively nursing his own drink -- and floated them over to the bartender colt with a wink and a blown kiss.

She got a polite reserved nod in acknowledgement, and Honour headed off to the far side of the palace, while the rest of her group set off at a slow walk to see who Lily could find to gossip about.

‘Let's see, a dance partner for Eb; that'll have to be some young stud as outrageously dressed as she was.’

‘For the still-heartbroken Artemis, a demure gentlecolt who'll woo her slowly and gently.’

‘The Royal Engineer?’

Lily didn't actually know his tastes -- maybe that was something to find out. Yes, he knew about tufts and wingboners and horn anteglows, and Honour said he could find a pony attractive now, knowing that he wasn't repulsive, but she had never heard him express any preferences.

For example, what kind of plot did he like? Tight? Something with a little meat? Or even more comprehensive?

How much tuft was enough for him, and was there such a thing as too much?

Did he have a favourite color palette or manestyle?

And then there was species, too -- earth, pegasus, or unicorn?

Lily was a little biased about that choice, of course. There were some other species here, too, if he bent that way. In fact, did her VIP have any more... unusual desires? Docks? Fetlocks? Surely he couldn't actually be into "tackplay," as Sparkshower had suggested.

Well, whatever the case, now was certainly the time for him to explore the variety of shapes and styles on display.

And as for herself?

Lily wasn't so sure on that front. Mailedhoof was out, yes; so, too, was her business of being a saltine. She had resolved to turn her career around, but what about her love-life?

The only firm requirement she could think of right now is that she wanted a colt who respected her. Beyond that, she’d just have to see what the luck of the draw brought her.

Suggested interlude music: Daft Punk - 'Get Lucky', featuring Pharrell Williams and Nile Rodgers [2013]
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5NV6Rdv1a3I

Chapter 136

Artemis Sparkshower

Artemis Sparkshower: 19D Armored Scout Specialist, currently of the VIP Section, Canterlot Palace Military Office, Household Division.

She may not have been a Centurion of the Order of the Ram, like her comrade and friend Specialist Lily Glamerspear, or have a Silver Star, like her quaternion leader Corporal Honour Bound, or even be the de facto leader of a whole school of batpony assassins like her extraterrestrial comrade Purity Ebonshield, but Artemis was still proud -- fiercely proud, even -- to be a Royal Guardsmare.

Which was why this situation felt so alien.

Artemis had been on leave a few times, sure -- she'd gone back to Berry to visit her parents, and to visit her Huckleberry. But she'd always gone in her service uniform, flying or taking the train home while wearing with pride her kilt and belted plaid in Skylanders’ blue-and-green tartan. And in her mind, on those occasions she’d still been a soldier of the Royal Guard, just temporarily off-duty.

Here, though, as a ticket-holding guest of the Grand Galloping Gala?

Wearing a completely civilian dress?

With matching slippers and a hoofbag?

Addressing not just her comrades by their first names, but also even the Very Important Pony (who wasn't actually a pony) that she was sworn to protect?

It really pulled her mentally out of her sabots.

Having a couple of drinks in her helped, though that wouldn't have been enough on its own -- Artemis had still felt like a guard when the Royal Engineer took them all out drinking Tuesday night in their service uniforms.

What wasn't helping, she felt fairly certain, was the way Lily was pointing out all the attractive, young, and unescorted colts as they walked along in the gardens.

"Hey, how about that looker over there? I know he's a unicorn -- I'm biased, sue me -- but he's got the body of a pegasus, if I do say so myself. Really fills out that suit jacket in the shoulders. Good jawline, too."

The worst part was, Artemis didn't know if she was pointing them out to her or to Sergeant Ebonshield.

Maybe it was better if that remained a mystery.

"Whaddya think, Purity? Or is he too old?"

‘Hurricanes!’

With a dismissive laugh, the batpony shook her head, the large tassel on her tall black 'smoking hat' swaying as she spoke. "Oh, the age, I do not mind so much. As long as they can dance -- that is what I seek for tonight, after all."

Lily slyly cocked an eyebrow. "Just dancing? That's all?"

Eb chuckled again. "Just the dancing, yes. The variety vertical first, and perhaps, if they are gifted, later also the kind horizontal."

‘Tornadoes!’

So many ponies had joked about what went on behind closed doors at the Gala, but to hear Eb talk openly about it while at the Gala...

As with the feeling of civilianhood, it really grounded the idea that yes, some ponies were sneaking off for secret sex elsewhere in the palace.

Glamerspear continued to needle the sergeant. "And you're absolutely sure your 'Mister Lionheart' won't mind?"

The batpony batted a black-booted forehoof disdainfully. "As I have said previously, I made clear to Gilberto the nature of our relationship temporary. I wish for him ultimately to find a good mare closer to his age. That is the custom here in Equestria, after all."

Even though Artemis was tremendously embarrassed by all this talk, she couldn't help but look at things analytically. "If you want to find a good dancer, it seems to me like you'd want to wait for the music to start and the floor to open up so you can see the colts in action."

Both Lily and Purity looked over at Artemis amusedly, but it was the older mare who spoke. "Of course. But there is no harm in examining the field before the games begin, yes? And sometimes the colts are shy, or too engrossed with their friends and the chit-chat masculine, that they need encouragement to begin dancing. One must be open at any time to seize the opportunity."

Glamerspear snickered. "So, what kind of opportunities are you looking for, Artemis darling?"

‘Uh-oh, colt front -- err, cold front -- approaching.’

Or maybe it was a hot front, from the way her cheeks felt inflamed.

Artemis just shook her head and shut her eyes. "I don't know, Lily."

The unicorn glanced around. "Well, going by your last choice -- well, your only choice -- you're into big, strapping stallions. And you said you liked having a colt who was noticeably larger than you were, so that rules out a lot of unicorns and pegasi, but I'm sure we can find somepony to fit the bill. Ya know, an awful lot of Royal Guardscolts are into body-building. Maybe you ought to consider dating inside 'the service.'"

This really wasn't the discussion Artemis wanted to be having right now. She wasn't about to burst into tears over what had happened with Huckleberry again, but the emotional wound was still a bit raw. And she was past the 'rebound' phase that had her sticking her tuft out to their VIP.

Even though on Tuesday night she’d felt uncharacteristically eager enough to chat it up with a few colts on the dance floor, this evening had her feeling subdued and a little embarrassed once more. She felt big again -- in the bad way -- and even though Artemis had confidence that her dress was well-fitted and she was as good-looking as her companions had said she was, she still felt a bit uncomfortable bearing the gaze of the other guests.

The only saving grace was that she was accompanied by two creatures that were even 'bigger' than her, albeit one of them only visually. Purity Ebonshield's deep crimson dress, with matching shawl and accompanying glossy black boots, belt, and tall hat was like a beacon for stares, from colts and mares alike. It hadn't been the case in the rotunda, maybe because everypony was watching for the next guest to arrive, or else paying more attention to Equestria's immortal sovereigns, or even simply because Honour's father, Leeward Bound, stepped in and stole the show. But outside in the gardens, her outfit was a show-stopper; Artemis couldn't imagine Eb would actually need any kind of help finding a dance partner tonight.

And then there was the Royal Engineer, who, although conservatively dressed, still towered head and shoulders over every creature at the Gala, with the sole exception thus far being Her Majesty Princess Celestia.

Maybe if a minotaur or an adult dragon showed up, then he'd be outclassed in the height department.

Regardless, having him in Artemis’ little group still made her feel, well, not small, but less big, at least.

It'd be a greater effect if Lily and Purity weren't around for her to tower over. She’d be more isolated for the Lipizzaner Waltz, at least.

Glamerspear seemed to be waiting for an answer from the pegasus, but she just shook her head. "I can't -- I don't really want to think about that right now. Can't we just enjoy the party for now? We'll stick together as a group until at least after dinner, won't we? I don't mind if we split up with dance partners later."

Lily just chuckled in response. "Alright, alright. I don't mean to push ya, Sparks. I'm just saying, keep your eyes open, okay? When the DJ starts playing your favorite track, you'll want to be ready to dance with a colt who makes your wings wanna flutter a bit, ya know? And remember: you don't have to take the hoof of the first colt who asks you, either."

Artemis nodded. "Sure, Lily."

Taking a deep breath, the pink unicorn sighed and looked around at the other guests as their little group came to a brief halt once more. "Well, Miss Purity insists she's got her own eyes open, and Miss Artemis wants to wear blinders until it's dance o'clock, so I guess that just leaves one other party member to try to hook up in advance."

She rolled her head over to face up at their VIP. "So, what's your pleasure, Anon? After your session in the 'Well of Life,' Honour told us you could be interested in ponies, but she was a little short on the details about what specifically interested you."

The Royal Engineer's mouth hung open for a moment before he answered. "That's a good question. I mean..." Taking a look around himself, he inhaled through his nose, then smacked his tongue against his lips. "...I don't really know what I should be looking for. What's actually considered attractive -- to ponies?"

Glamerspear snorted, and Artemis couldn’t help but raise a forehoof to her muzzle. Even Ebonshield tittered a bit, but the Royal Engineer took it in stride. "Without getting too technical, I'd have to assume some of the same general physical attractiveness rules apply: bilateral symmetry, particularly of the face, youthfulness, things like good teeth. But beyond that, the rules aren't so clear. Larger eyes are often considered attractive among my people, but pony eyes are off the scale. Long hair is usually another positive trait for females, yet just about every pony has long manes and tails. And your colors are way out of spectrum."

He smiled amiably. "It's all a bit confusing, physically. I assume I'd focus first on finding someone with whom I could build a mental rapport. Perhaps a fellow inventor or engineer."

With a sly grin, Lily stepped out in front of the Royal Engineer, gathering Artemis and Ebonshield up in her forehooves, drawing them both in close beside her. "Oh, yeah, sure, having the same interests and such is important in the long run, but you can't ignore the physical needs, ya know?"

She glanced conspiratorially between the two ponies still beside her. "We've got a nice little spread here, I think. On my left, you've got an exotic beauty, graceful and athletic, experienced and determined."

Eb fluttered her eyes, then covered her muzzle and started to chuckle like she could see where this was going.

"On my right, you've got small-town mare-next-door. Sweet, and maybe still a bit innocent, but strong and committed."

Artemis wasn’t sure what she was supposed to do.

‘Why is she introducing me like this?’

Anonymous knew who she was, especially after the talks they’d had -- in his office, in the garage, even the rambling, progressively-more-drunk, barely-remembered conversation Tuesday night, in-between bars and nightclubs.

"And in the middle, you've got the party mare, emotional and headstrong."

Purity stopped giggling long enough to speak up. "And who likes to play the games childish and silly!"

"And who likes to play silly children's games, sure. But you got a little spread of marely body shapes and personalities here before you, so why don't you take another look, and tell us which of us speaks loudest to that other part of you, the one that isn't your mind, ya know?"

As she waggled her eyebrows and pursed her lips, Artemis struggled in her grasp. "Lily! That's not a very polite question!"

Eb joined the unicorn in fluttering eyelids and making kissy-faces, and the pegasus ceased resisting, wondering if maybe she was in the wrong, but Anonymous just shook his head, laughing.

"Come now, you're asking me to play favorites. We're informal tonight, but we do have to work together afterwards."

‘That's right!’

Their VIP was a gentlecolt!

Relenting, Lily released Ebonshield and patted Artemis on her shoulder. "Hey, I'm just trying to break the ice by lightening the mood. Sorry, Sparks. I just don't want Anon to feel uncomfortable spilling some of the beans on his desires. I mean, everypony's got their preferences, right?"

That mollified her a bit, and Lily looked up at the Royal Engineer. "...So don't tell me you don't have any, Anon. You don't pick your partner based on what society says you should find attractive, you pick 'em based on what you do find attractive. And none of us are gonna laugh at you for what you prefer, right?"

Purity nodded. "Certainly."

Artemis was still a bit flustered from the question, but she nodded, too. "Of course."

Lily rubbed her forehooves together. "So how about it? There's lots of mares out here. What do you find interesting? Help us help you."

Anonymous took the aggressive assistance in stride, taking a sip of his drink and slipping his free hand into his pants pocket. "Okay. If you want the honest truth, most ponies look pretty 'cute' to me. The bright colors, the body fuzz, the long mane-and-tail hair, the height difference... It's 'cute' like the way a puppy or kitten is 'cute,' though, which is a bit of a psychological hill to surmount."

He cleared his throat. "...I mean, a puppy or kitten is adorable, but you wouldn't, you know..."

Taking another sip, he shrugged. "Beyond that, I admit I've thought a bit about wings and horns. Feathered wings cross into genuinely 'pretty'; something about the splendor of the arrangement of all those feathers, I think. And unicorn horns, well, physically they don't really do anything for me, but magic is pretty interesting, and, uh, I can imagine some, let's say, exotic applications."

That comment about 'splendor' made Artemis feel a bit tingly, but Lily shook her head. "Boss, I hate to tell ya, but you ain't the first wingless colt to be dazzled by pegasus plumage or wondering what'd be like to get a glow-job."

‘...Glow-job?’

‘Is that because when a unicorn 'holds' something telekinetically, it glows?’

Artemis had no doubts about what was being 'held' in that act.

Ebonshield quickly extended her wings out of her red dress. "And the wings of leather, you have not considered them? Certainly enough of them have been flapped in your direction."

Anon glanced down into his glass, swirling the dregs of punch around. "They certainly have. You, Carmen, Sister Lucretia... I can't really say bat wings do anything particular for me, though I've nothing against them, either."

The batpony gracefully folded her appendages back up in good humor. "I understand, naturally. I find the feathers of the pegasi most majestic also, and while my Gilberto has yet to make use of his horn in bed, I look forward to when he finds the confidence and attentiveness to do so."

Glamerspear held up a forehoof. "In the interest of fairness for the pony species not represented in present company, let me remind you that you've managed to tire every one of us out in combat training, with the exception of our earth pony, Honour. And, while we don't know anything about how your species does gland-to-gland combat, from how you handled the hoof-to-hoof variety, you might find yourself pining for that hardy breed of pony."

‘Oh, my!’

"¡Ja-ja-ja-ja-jaa!"

The unicorn's forward comment about sexual endurance got Artemis’ cheeks rosy and sent Ebonshield into high-pitched tittering again.

‘To imagine a colt tiring out their mare in bed…’

Anonymous looked about as embarrassed as Artemis was by the current trend in conversation, with Glamerspear and Ebonshield practically ganging up to uncover his sexual preferences.

It really wasn't very nice of Lily to do this.

And it wasn't very nice of Purity to go along with it, either.

The batpony dabbed a forehoof at her eyes to wipe away tears, then playfully reached up a little to tap Anon's ribs with the back of her hoof. "Our Anonimo is a 'good sport' to suffer stoically the slings and the arrows of our propositions outrageous. But let us now--¡¡¡Sombras!!!" Purity's eyes went as wide as dinner plates and the purple color seemed to drain right out of her face as she stared at something behind Sparkshower and Glamerspear.

Everypony turned to look at the object of her horror.

Just stepping out from the palace into the gardens was a young colt with a dark-grey coat and a thin black mustache, wearing a white jacket with black lapels bearing elegant floral embroidery. Accompanying him was a slender older mare with a red dress with four layers of ruffles in the back, each one trimmed with black and a thin ribbon of gold.

And that's when Artemis noticed that both of them had leather wings folded up against their sides. "Batponies!"

Lily furrowed her brow. "What? Batponies? You mean, more than just the one we brought?" But when she saw them too, her jaw dropped, and she almost dropped her drink as well.

While the three ponies gawked at the two foreigners, their Very Important Pony just shrugged. "What's the problem? I invited one, why couldn't somebody else? Perhaps they're members of the Night Guard?"

That would make a lot of sense, but regardless, Artemis felt certain that there had never been any of their kind at the Gala before. Surely, in spite of Don't-Ask-Don't-Tell, which only applied to soldiers anyways, and given that the batponies had only been in Equestria for two years now, word would have gotten out if any of them had attended a previous gala. Especially if they didn't even try to hide their bat wings!

Not that Ebonshield was particularly trying to hide hers, but Artemis had imagined that she would have been the sole exception.

As the pegasus tried to process things in her head, she barely registered her own leather-winged companion's speech. "Those two are not members of the Guardia de la Noche. And we have met at least one of them before."

Nor did Artemis notice her tall VIP's reply. "Ah, yes. I see now."

She could only watch, stunned, as the well-dressed duo approached their group, the mare beaming a wide smile. "Why, if it isn't our dear friend the Royal Engineer of Equestria! How are you this evening?"

Artemis recognized that flowery Canterlot voice. Her VIP didn’t miss a beat in replying. "Good evening, Reverend Mother Superior. I'm very well, thank you. What a pleasure to meet you here at the Grand Galloping Gala."

It was Carmen, the religious and political leader of the batponies.

Without her coating of white body-powder, she was almost unrecognizable to Artemis, but Anon had met her unpowdered before -- in the Well of Life, inside the Lunar Sanctuary, where she'd given him a massage. The pegasus didn't know the colt she was with; perhaps he was one of those hooded lunars who accompanied her entrance into the Grand Hall of Stars?

"Oh, believe me, my Lord Engineer, the pleasure is all mine..."

Carmen actually bowed to the Royal Engineer -- she curtsied, in fact, using her wing-fingers to spread out the bottom of her dress. Purity was already stunned just from seeing her subterranean-dwelling mother at the Gala; this act of deference to their VIP seemed to shock her even further into utter disbelief.

‘Wasn't this the pony to whom our entire group had to bow when she visited?’

Granted, Anon was considered an 'honorary Lunar' now, but even so.

The slender batpony rose up from her bow, still wearing a smile. "...After all, I must thank you for enabling us Children to attend this most magnificent of Equestrian festivities."

‘Enabling them to attend?’

‘What did the Royal Engineer do to get Reverend Mother Carmen an invitation?’

"I'm not sure I understand, Your Reverence."

Carmen stepped up and indicated her still-flabbergasted daughter with one forehoof. "No? Then allow me to explain. Since the previous Gala, The Great Mother had considered issuing tickets to some fine representatives of the Children, but she was concerned about the possibility of an incident. Even though it has been two years since we clashed with our Equestrian kin, and even though I proposed to bring only Lunars with me, the Great Mother still demurred. And while the Night Guard were established soon after the Great Mother's return, with a pledge to renounce past animosities, they have twice been denied the honor of executing their duties on the night of the Grand Galloping Gala."

That same forehoof turned back to touch a little bit of tuft showing above the cut of her dress. "But for this year, when it was clear that one of the Children would already be attending, and a Star at that, the Great Mother demurred no longer. Your action, as Her chosen in the matter of reconciling our two peoples, spurred Her to agree to our presence earlier this week."

Ebonshield finally found her balance once more, stammering out incredulously. "The Guardia de la Noche patrols the palace walls tonight? How many of the Children attend the Gala?"

Carmen looked at Purity as if she was just noticing her daughter for the first time. "Such impatient questions! Do you not trust in the Great Mother's wisdom, Stellar Seventh? Regardless, I will answer you: Yes, the Night Guard will patrol the walls of the palace tonight, though the security of the Gala itself remains in the capable hooves of the Royal Guard. And as for Children attendees, I have brought with me three Sisters and three Brothers of the Lunars."

She looked over at her escort, one of the 'Brothers.' "Altogether, including the two of us, we are eight, the sacred and auspicious number."

Artemis felt like she was missing something -- something important.

‘The presence of batponies at the Gala, the use of the Night Guard for the palace walls…’

That's when it hit her.

"You're the 'unspecified threat' to the Gala!"

The pegasus’ sudden outburst shocked her companions almost as much as when they saw Carmen and her escort in the first place.

But if the religious leader of the batponies was taken aback, she didn’t show it. "I beg your pardon, miss Sparkshower?"

‘Oops.’

‘I may have pushed this cold front a bit too fast.’

"I'm sorry, your Reverence. I had overheard at the First Air Division that they've been on high alert due to 'unspecified' threats to the Gala passed down from Intelligence." Feeling like a soldier once more, Artemis furrowed her brow and looked over at Sergeant Ebonshield. "Intel would have known of the potential of the Night Guard going on duty and tickets being issued to the Children, but because of Don't-Ask-Don't-Tell rules, they couldn't inform the soldiers. So the threat was just left as 'unspecified.' I've been wondering what it was all this time since; it has to be you and your kin."

Carmen fluttered her eyes and shook her head. "If you say so. I certainly couldn't pretend to understand the complexities of Equestria's defenses. But, as for being a threat, my child, neither myself nor any of my Lunars have brought with us any weapons, for to wield a weapon is anathema to the Lunars. In fact, I would imagine the only armed batpony here at the Gala is the one accompanying you."

She slyly looked over at Purity, who acknowledged the statement with a nod.

Glamerspear cut in accusingly. "Yeah, well, maybe none of you are armed, but you'll excuse me if I keep my eyes open and my horn lit for any Night Guards straying over here from the outer walls. Like, ya know, the fifteen bats who tried to murder all of us a week ago."

The Reverend Mother Superior took even this accusation in stride, reassuring the unicorn as a mother would a child. "It pains me to know that their deplorable actions on that awful day still haunt you, my dear. If you would permit it, I would be privileged to welcome you into the Lunar Sanctuary for the purposes of helping to heal that trauma. I'm sure that the Lord Engineer and your comrade Corporal Bound could attest to the Well's curative properties. Until then, it may perhaps reassure you to know that the entire Temple of the Swarming Meteors, from whose ranks Marcos drew his accomplices, have been punished for their malfeasance by being banned until further notice from Night Guard duties."

She looked to Artemis and gave a small nod. "And I should note that each Night Guard patrol tonight will be accompanied by representatives of the Royal Undermountain Constabulary, as an additional concession to safety for all concerned."

In spite of Sergeant Ebonshield's friendliness with the border agents in that strange outpost hidden in an orchard shed, the impression the pegasus had always gotten was of coldness between the batponies and the R.U.C who guarded access to the Rookery, almost like the relationship between prisoners and their jailers. She couldn’t imagine that adding Royal Guards into each Night Guard group would reduce tensions; if anything, they would increase it. But if anypony in the Night Guard had had designs to disrupt the Gala, she supposed that the presence of Royal Guards should dissuade them.

The Reverend Mother Superior beamed a warm smile to everypony in the group. "Well, this has been a pleasant encounter. It is always reassuring to greet familiar faces at a party. But I'm sure you must all have your own destinations and desires for tonight, and I would not dream to impose upon them. And I must admit for my own part that, as I have so rarely been in the great Palace of Canterlot, I wish to take full advantage of this invitation so as to socialize and establish rapport with our Equestrian kin. After all, the Great Mother surely does not expect you to shoulder the entire burden of reconciling our peoples, my Lord Engineer."

Anonymous bowed. "Of course. I wish you an excellent and enjoyable evening, Your Reverence."

Carmen curtsied again, and the unnamed and so-far silent 'Brother' similarly gave a bow, and then they departed, heading off through the gardens, along the outer face of the palace.

Glamerspear scrunched up her muzzle. "Crazy seeing her here. D'you think they introduced her at the door as 'Reverend Mother Superior'?"

Artemis shook her head. "The attendant did introduce Purity with her full title."

Eb nodded. "This is so. I cannot imagine Carmen permitting anything less."

Lily turned to their senior comrade. "Look, I know she welcomed us to the Rookery, and we're all honorary Stars and Lunars and all that, smiles all around, and nopony's accosted us since your brother attacked us, but do you really trust her and her cronies here?"

The batpony chuckled. "That is a question most open. If you mean, do I trust that she has not come to stab anypony with the blades, then yes, I do trust that she spoke the truth in this. Lunars do not carry weapons, generally. I believe she plans indeed to conduct the diplomacy and the politics, as she has said." She sniffed, and finally seemed to re-compose herself after the shock of seeing her mother here in the Palace garden. “I did not think that the Great Mother would so soon permit the presence of my kin in the public. But I likewise did not think that Equestrians would be allowed to enter the Rookery so soon as well, particularly without an escort."

Eb looked up at their VIP. "Matters between Equestrians and Children have progressed quickly since I have entered your service, Anónimo."

Anonymous sighed. "They're about to progress a lot quicker, I suppose. Songwell sent word earlier today that he'd found an excellent potential location for my foundry, and I have to admit it looked good enough on paper that I forwarded it to Purse Strings for review. We might visit the place tomorrow afternoon, if any of us are in a fit state to go out."

That got Glamerspear grinning again. "Oh? So you are coming around to ponies, after all?"

Their VIP just smiled. "Ask me again after the Lipizzaner Waltz, when I've got a few more drinks in me. I'm not quite loose enough right now to start babbling about what floats my boat."

"Oh, I will, Anon, I promise!"

Lily and Purity started tittering again between them, and all Artemis could do was shake her head. With Honour elsewhere, did that make Artemis the 'responsible one,' even though she was the youngest?

Not that she wasn't also interested in hearing what, uhm, 'floated' the Royal Engineer's 'boat.'

‘He liked wings…’

‘Did he like anything else?’

‘Maybe something he saw?’

Artemis was the furthest in size from a puppy or kitten...

Suddenly she didn't feel so big-in-a-bad-way any more.

She felt big-in-a-good-way.

‘Yep.’

‘I am a big mare, and yes, Glamerspear was right, I do need a big, strong colt.’

Maybe even somepony she already knew, and who already knew her. If only she could have a serious conversation about things. With all this joking and ribbing from Lily and Purity, though...

...Well, it sure wasn't making it easy.

Suggested interlude music: Massari - 'Be Easy' [2006]
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zf7SHew7yc4

Author's Note

Well folks, after six months and half a million words, we are now all caught up with the Greentext of Everyday Life With Guardsmares! Unfortunately, we've also reached the end of regularly scheduled updates; future updates will be posted As They Come. Don't worry, the story is not abandoned!

Thank you for being with us so far, and I hope you continue to enjoy Everyday Life With Guardsmares! :twilightsmile:

Chapter 137

Honour Bound

"You sure ain't making this easy, Honour."

Sergeant Alexander Castlerook wasn’t very happy with the corporal. His frustration wasn’t completely unwarranted; after all, Honour Bound had never really flat-out refused his offer to go back to Fillydelphia. She’d been waffling, sure, and she’d mentioned wanting to finish her tour of duty with the Royal Engineer, yes, but she hadn't said 'no'. Which meant he was well within his rights to think she was going to say 'yes'.

But she also remembered that he'd left open the possibility of living somewhere else, too, and that was all she was asking for. He ought to have remembered that, and she could just point it out.

But his surprising reply to her honest admission about Fillydelphia being the hang-up, which hadn't been easy for her to do, put Honour in a combative mood. "Is it supposed to be easy?"

Castlerook, his helmet polished to a show-ready shine, lifted an eyebrow. "With you? No, I suppose it wasn't ever gonna be." He sighed. "Nothing was ever easy with you, even growin' up."

Honour frowned. "What are you trying to say?"

His expression softened. "Just that with you, it was always about big changes. You never did anything small."

‘Never did anything small?’

Planting her plot on the floor, Honour folded her forehooves in front of her chest. The low cut of her Gala dress made her tuft stick up a bit when she did. "Now you're accusing me of being a drama queen?"

Lifting a forehoof, he drew her back down onto her four hooves and led her up the hallway, further away from his stationed squad of guards and the blind palace hallway corner they were controlling. "No, damn it. I'm saying you're always about extremes. Whatever you're doing right now, it's always the best, and whatever you were doing before, it was the worst, and the difference between them is like night and day."

With a rueful expression, he looked her up and down. He'd definitely never seen her like this, in a short-cropped, lacy red dress that left little to the imagination and focused attention on curves which Honour was never particularly confident of having, let alone showing. As uncomfortable as it was to make the admission, Honour’s lascivious outfit was making things even more awkward.

Castlerook shook his head. "Whenever you get fed up with one thing you always have to go and make a complete about-face to do something completely different."

Honour knew her life had taken some funny turns, but from the way he was putting it, she’d been lurching from crisis to crisis. With her brow still furrowed, she sat down on her haunches once more, allowing just the tiniest scrap of red fabric to splay outwards on the floor. Once again, she crossed her forelegs, though she tried to minimize the tuft-push this time.

Castlerook knew Honour well enough to take her stance as a cue to continue. "I could start with when you decided to up and join the VIP corps on account of Fillydelphia no longer being to your liking. Never mind that it's a big city and there's plenty of ways to avoid running into certain ponies if you really wanted to, but there's cities all up and down the coast with garrisons that would've gladly taken you in. Or even a regular regiment out here, if you needed to be away from the sea. You could've kept on being a regular soldier and easily made staff sergeant by now, if you wanted to, instead of becoming a professional bodyguard."

The corporal didn't really know what to say to that, though it was true that when she’d first seen Castlerook here in Canterlot she'd pined for his rank, and reconsidered both her decision to join the VIP corps and to stay in for so long. It was kind of him to say that she deserved to be an E-6, above his E-5. As much as she’d consistently found it difficult to take a compliment, Castlerook had always been an honest, if often reserved, colt.

As Honour remained silent, the sergeant continued. "But even before you left, you were always all about the big changes. I remember the day you decided to join the Guard. You'd barely mentioned it before, and usually only dismissively, yet you were suddenly so adamant that it was the right thing to do, you managed to convince me to sign up as well. You made good points, after all: decent pay and benefits, a roof over your head, provisions for family, and a potential career. What else did any of our little gang have going for ourselves? And when you met, well, I won't say his name, but you were convinced it was the absolute biggest and best thing that could ever happen to you. When it didn't work out, you took his plot straight to magistrate's divorce court."

She started to open her mouth, but Castlerook raised a forehoof. "I can't blame you for that one, of course. He was scum, and he treated you like dirt. You never deserved that. But most mares would've given their colt a second chance, maybe sought some counselling, at least talked to their parents first." That same forehoof waved about dismissively. "I guess it wasn't going to happen in your case, but that wasn't the biggest change, anyways. It was how you acted afterwards: you went and did night class to get your proper diploma after having skipped so much high school. And then you started going to all those classes, the Yakistani Yoga, the new-age gong ensemble, that acrobatic dance school, the speed-dating clubs, the free lecture series at Filly U, and all those book clubs. Books! You started reading books -- not just reading, really, devouring, it seemed like. Big ones, too. For somepony who barely read before then, I thought for sure you were about to apply to college. You even started talking different."

It was true that Honour had gone through quite an intellectual renaissance after the divorce. At the time, college had crossed her mind, but she wasn't quite sure about the idea. Even with a high school equivalency diploma, she knew she had a lot of catching-up to do if she wanted to get a degree.

And then there was the cost...

She vaguely remembered factoring the Royal Guard's 'Gallop In-listed' benefits, including college tuition, into her calculation for entering the Royal Guard.

‘Whatever happened to that idea of punching out when your six years were up?’

Her reenlistment deadline was coming up this summer.

‘But still, as for Castlerook's big point, isn't he exaggerating?’

"A messy divorce that gave me an early mid-life crisis is hardly a pattern."

He chuckled. "Heh, no, but with you it goes all the way back. Don't you remember? You were restless at school, so you started skipping class. You felt neglected at home and got into a big argument with your mom, so you started slumming it on the street on weekend nights. You got worried that you wouldn't add up to anything when you grew old, so you damn near started a gang, and we terrorized the neighbourhood."

Those were juvenile acts of rebellion, and destructive ones at that. The way he was laughing about it stung a bit, and she felt her frown intensifying.

But then his smile turned warm, and she felt herself melting in his gaze. "...I never told you this, but I always admired that about you."

Honour felt her forehooves droop away from her chest. "What?"

Castlerook stepped closer, and the part of her that might want to take a step back stayed silent. "It takes a lot of willpower to up and change everything about your life the way you always do. Even if I disagreed with some of your moves, I appreciated how you always put your whole heart into whatever you decided you were gonna do. I can still see it now, with the way you say you want to stick by your VIP until the end. And you're holding fast about Fillydelphia, too."

Castlerook licked his lips, his muzzle inches from Honour’s. "I can't do it like you do, make big changes to try something completely new. So I admired that quality in you, and I followed along for a bit, as I could." He bobbed his head sideways. "When you said you were leaving Filly' to join the VIP Corps, I half thought about joining you. I know you never asked me to. You never asked me to join the gang or the Guard either. But I did, and I thought about following you again a third time, too. Just couldn't bring myself to make that big of a change, though. I didn't have the strength to pull up that many roots. I was too comfortable where I was at; I always get too comfortable where I'm at."

Honour’s forehooves fell away, and for a moment, she had to look away from him.

He was right, of course; she really did have a habit of completely changing direction.

And of looking down on her past.

But that wasn't a virtue.

It was just the result of frustration and panic.

Alexander was the one who had it right; finding stability wherever he was.

"No; you've got it backwards, Alex. I don't have any patience. I get so frustrated with big problems I just throw everything away, the good and the bad." Honour shivered as she remembered the way she blew up at Anonymous when he rearranged his room without her formal presence. Or even the way she’d fallen into Ebonshield's pitfalls of frustration trying to learn her 'Stellar Dance' contortions. "I'm still doing it. I still haven't learned. And I'm never happy: I always feel like I'm on shaky ground, like the floor's about to fall out from underneath my hooves."

Castlerook's grin disappeared, replaced by a stoic look of concern that was somehow supremely comforting.

"...You're the one who's got things right, finding comfort wherever you are, and succeeding because of it." Honour looked away, down at the ground. "I know I'm asking a lot by vetoing Fillydelphia. It's your home."

There was the barely-audible clinking of armor as he leaned in close enough that she could feel his breath against her cheek. "You're not asking for anything more than what I offered, though. I did say it didn't have to be 'Filly, didn't I? I guess I was hoping to convince you to come back anyways, though."

Honour shook her head, then looked him in his piercing green eyes. "I'm sorry. Like I said, it's Leeward. I just can't deal with him. The way he just runs roughshod over me, even over my mom, smiling the whole time. Meeting him again now reminded me just how much I can't stand it."

Alex drew back. "Yeah, I know; I've seen him do it. I thought about maybe giving him a talking-to before the Gala. Maybe I'll still try tomorrow, if he hasn't sailed out by then."

She scoffed. "They'll all be too hung-over to sail anywhere, I'm sure. You'd have time. Not that I think it'd make a difference, given how many talks my mother and I have had with him."

He raised an eyebrow. "You never know. Sometimes a fresh voice can change someone's mind. I got to wondering a bit if maybe your father is a bit 'old-fashioned.'"

‘Old-fashioned?’

Honour scrunched up her muzzle. "Ignoring reality is 'old-fashioned'?"

But her soft-spoken admirer just chuckled again. "It is when the ones trying to convince you are all mares. Now, if a colt told him the same things you've tried to tell him, maybe then it'd be another story. There's some colts out there -- mares too, I've met 'em -- that think all mares are hysterical, and only colts have their hooves planted firmly on the ground, so it's only colts worth listening to. Not that they aren't polite to mares, but they don't pay any mind to words they speak about major happenings, that's all."

Honour really didn't know enough about Leeward -- about her own father -- to make a call one way or another on that one.

"I don't know. Maybe..." She shrugged. "I guess it might explain a few things about him."

Castlerook leaned in close again. "If he is what I think he is, then maybe I could straighten him out. D'you think that then you might be able to put up with him?"

Honour came here to tell Alexander that she couldn't do Fillydelphia because of Leeward. She’d expected some push-back, yes, but not this kind of attempt at 'problem-solving'. And it was hard to say 'no' to somepony as genuine as she knew Castlerook was.

She sighed. "Now you're the one not making this easy."

He backed off a bit. "Sorry..." Wearing a rueful expression, he swallowed. "You mean enough to me that I'm willing to move away from Filly. But I do have all my roots laid down there, and I'm not as entrepreneurial as you. It's going to be a big change." Glancing momentarily down at the ground, he nodded as he faced her again. "I'd still like to take a run at fixing your problems with Leeward. But I promise I won't push Filly' again unless I think I've already solved them."

Then he grinned. "Since you're set on finishing your tour of duty with your current VIP, I guess I've got a little time to try things out, and to look into alternative postings suited for the two of us. Both of our enlistments are coming up this summer; we can easily reenlist somewhere together. Just don't go doing something radical on me in the meantime."

‘'Something radical'?’

Honour had to chuckle at that. "Hah! Too late. On Monday, Her Majesty Princess Celestia signed my quaternion and my VIP up for the Grand Mêlée. We're officially in the MXP Games, along with my Very Important Pony and his steam-powered carriage."

Castlerook whinnied with amusement. "Really? Well, good luck, then. Wish I could be here to see it. You better show all those high-flyin' pegasi and spell-slingin' unicorns how the fighting's done down in the dark alleys of the Fillydelphia docks."

His charm was disarming, and Honour finally found herself feeling genuinely relaxed once more.

Behind her, there was a clatter of hooves coming to a sudden stop, and the sudden shuffle of guards standing to attention as two tittering lovers were stopped in their tracks.

"Hihihihi-Oh!"
"Ohohohoh-Oh!"

Both Bound and Castlerook turned to find a young mare and a middle-aged, whiskered colt rounding the blind corner, suddenly interrupted in their forwardly-playful nuzzling by the presence of a squad of Royal Guardsponies.

Honour’s beau immediately stepped away from her and put up a forehoof. "Sir, ma'am, I'm sorry, but this area of the palace is off-limits except to authorized personnel. Would you please return to the marked areas of the Grand Galloping Gala."

The grey-whiskered colt, clearly embarrassed at being caught trying to sneak off to enjoy his nubile young partner, started nodding his head and waving the soldiers off with a forehoof. "Oh, of course, of course, my apologies. Got a bit lost, that's all."

As he held the forehoof up quizzically, feigning a need for directions, Honour stared down his partner.

His very large-tufted partner.

His very large-tufted, bat-winged partner.

And she knew exactly where she’d seen those eyes, too.

Castlerook indicated the way back to the party. "That way, sir, ma'am."

"Oh, of course, of course, thank you, Sergeant! Come, my dear."

Honour couldn't resist giving a small curtsy to the mare, who was still smiling obliviously. "Good evening, Sister Lucretia."

The way her slit-oval irises popped wide open told the corporal she hadn't recognized her. But it only took her a second to put the pieces together, and she curtsied back even as the unicorn colt she’d dug her hooves into tried to lead her away. "Corporal Bound. Good evening to you as well."

The forced grin Lucretia gave Honour as she headed back to the party with her catch told the corporal everything she needed to know.

She looked over at Castlerook. "You saw the wings, right?"

He nodded. "I'm not supposed to see 'em, but I still saw 'em. Don't-Ask-Don't-Tell is still in effect for me and mine. But not for you, I take it, what with you already having been introduced."

Honour chuckled. "Yeah, we're way past DADT in my VIP quaternion. Special orders from Her Majesty Princess Luna herself. My VIP is on assignment, and we're his bodyguards."

Castlerook stepped back over to her, a proud smile on his face. "Really? Maybe you should reconsider if you're really on shaky grounds here after all, then. I can't imagine either of Their Majesties suffering fools gladly."

Honour snorted. "Or maybe fools are all She's got."

Getting in close once more, he nuzzled his muzzle up against hers. "Hey, come on, don't talk like that, putting yourself down." Alex reached down and picked up one of her forehooves in two of his own. "Look. I'm on docks duty tomorrow, but after that let's meet up and talk more about where you think you'd want to be. The regiment isn't scheduled to pack up and head home until mid-week. It'd be good to talk details face-to-face."

Unused to the intimate physical contact -- not that it was unwelcome -- Honour couldn't bring herself to actually say anything to his plan, so she just nodded.

He gave her a soft smile. "We'll make this work, I promise."

All she could do was breathlessly reply, "Okay."

Alexander pulled back away from her, but not before pausing to kiss the forehoof he was holding.

When he let go, he nodded back down the hallway. "Now, you go and enjoy the big party out there, Honour."

Feeling flush -- ‘did it suddenly get hotter in here?’ -- she tried to collect herself, patting down her dress and mane with a forehoof. "Thanks. Have a good night, Alex."

He grinned. "Don't worry, I will."

With a furtive last glance, Honour awkwardly turned around and rounded the corner, heading back to the Gala -- and to be specific, towards the main ballroom.

It was almost time for the Lipizzaner Waltz, and with how long it'd taken her to find Castlerook, Honour didn't have a lot of time to make it back before the dancing started. Not that she was going to dance, but she did promise to be back in time before it started, and on top of that, Honour felt like she owed Artemis to be present for her big number.

She'd put a lot of effort into learning the dance steps -- her and the Royal Engineer both. The least Honour could do was show her appreciation by attending.

‘Huh.’

She was feeling unusually upbeat about things all of a sudden. The chat with Castlerook really must've taken a load off her mind. It was a nice feeling, although she wasn’t given much time to enjoy it before she hit denser crowds, many of whom were similarly drawing inwards to the main ballroom, just off the main rotunda where the Princesses had set up their receiving line.

Clearly, the Lipizzaner Waltz promised to be well-spectated.

Just outside the ballroom in question, one of Her Majesty's impeccably-clad unicorn servants stood on a small podium advertising the event. "Ladies and Gentlecolts, Their Majesties invite you to the ballroom for the first dance of the evening."

There was no way even a tenth of the total Gala attendees could possibly fit in there, not with all the space required for dozens of couples to dance, but that might not stop many from trying.

The crowd became increasingly thick and impossible to push through; if Honour wanted to see what was going to happen, she’d have to improvise. She inelegantly reared up on her hind hooves for a quick glance ahead.

Ponies were still filing in through the sets of Prench doors, slowly. But there was an alternative: the ballroom took up two stories, and the upper floor also had sets of Prench doors with slim ledge 'Verona' balconies looking in. And even though it was crowded here, there was still enough time that it might not yet be crowded upstairs.

Turning around, Honour hustled back towards the staircase as quickly as her scanty dress allowed her.

‘Hmm, what would Castlerook have to say about this, given his little speech just a few moments ago?’

‘Another radical change, another 'entrepreneurial' course alteration?’

Or had she just given up, and maybe too soon when she could've gotten into the ballroom proper? Well, he's the one who told her he admired the trait in her-- no reason to stop on his account.

As she crested the stairs, she was relieved to be proven correct; there were plenty of completely empty viewing balconies. And more than that -- she spotted Glamerspear and Ebonshield doing their best to fully occupy one of the central platforms with the best viewing angle.

Lily spotted Honour and waved her over with one forehoof, holding one drink in her other hoof, with a second cocktail suspended next to her in her telekinetic grip. "Hey, Honour, over here! Got us a prime spot!"

Now that there was no rush, she took her time to stride over in a rather more elegant fashion.

Eb perked up at Honour’s arrival, and the corporal noticed that she had a glass in hoof as well. "Bienvenida, Honour. Come, join us on our balconcito privado!"

While the corporal was in a good mood herself, both of them seemed to be possessed of a suspiciously alcohol-fuelled enthusiasm.

‘How deep into their cups are these two?’

Honour raised an eyebrow. "I would've thought you'd be front-row downstairs. Or did you also arrive late?"

Glamerspear shook her head and floated her surplus drink in Honour’s direction. She doubted it was Lily’s original intention to share it with her, but what the heck; she took it. "Nah, we've been here for a bit. But I figured we'd get a better view up here anyways. How'd your meeting go?"

Honour glanced down into the ballroom before answering. As a contrast to the palace's overall magical purple color palette, this room had bright cream walls that filled the room with light, with opulent glittering gold trim to match. Down on the parquet floor, there were at least twenty couples eager to dance already, including a fairly conspicuous biped colt and his accompanying pegasus.

The outer three edges of the room were filling up with spectators fast, five ponies deep. In one corner on a set of raked stands there was a live chamber orchestra that looked to be at least thirty musicians, plus a conductor. There was a podium in front of them for a master of ceremonies and, in the opposite corner, another raised podium with a small mounted movie camera and a pair of ponies attending to it. Everything looked set up to go.

"My meeting went alright." As much as Honour’s relationships were her own private realm, she probably owed Lily more than a platitude. After all, if she hadn't pushed the corporal, she might not have laid it all out for Castlerook. Then she’d still be in slack water with him, instead of on a much more definite course. And it did feel good to resolve that lingering issue. "He agreed that we'll leave Filly, and we're going to talk details before his regiment gets sent back."

Lily smiled and raised her glass up. "Sounds good! Here, let's have a toast to at least one of us four being on track to solving their relationship issues!"

Purity snorted amusedly. "I do not recall having any such issues."

But the unicorn had an instant reply to that. "I don't see a colt hanging off your wing. Who're you gonna dance with tonight, huh? That's a relationship issue right there."

The batpony laughed. "Very well, I concede your point. ¡Salud!" The three of them raised their glasses in unison, clinked them together, and then drank.

Looking down over the balcony again, it seemed like things were about to begin. The M.C., a dashing stallion dressed in a tailcoat with neatly-brushed hair and a glowing smile, had his assistants arranging all the couples in a grid, spacing them out evenly. It seemed like they were only missing maybe three or four more to fill the dance-floor completely -- and the M.C. was already touring the inner rim of spectators, looking for those final replacements.

After she finished her drink, Lily leaned over towards Honour conspiratorially. "By the way, you'll never guess who we ran into shortly after you left."

Honour bet she could. "The Reverend Mother Superior Carmen Ebonshield."

Both of them glanced at her to check if she was joking. When it was clear that she wasn’t, Lily scoffed. "What, did you run into her too?"

Honour shook her head, watching as the M.C. finished filling out the grid before making an elegant stride over to his raised podium. "No, I met Sister Lucretia. She'd already found her first catch of the day; they were trying to sneak off into the closed areas and ran into Castlerook's barricade. I can't imagine that the good Sister would be here without her Reverend Mother."

The unicorn snorted. "Already picked up a colt before dinner? They don't waste any time, do they?"

Ebonshield shook her head, still looking down into the ballroom. "The Lunars are most efficient at their duties. There is a reason they bid on only the finest from the criadero. Behind their backs, we sometimes call the Lunars 'los pescadores' -- 'the fishers'. And they set their hooks very well."

Below them, the M.C. had grabbed for himself a stunning young mare in a dazzling crimson dress from the audience as an impromptu partner and began to walk the last-minute additions through the basic steps required for the Lipizzaner Waltz. He was all smiles and jokes, even when the unprepared extras made a mistake.

And the crowd seemed to be loving their interaction.

Some of the other couples joined in rehearsal as well -- their VIP and his pegasus included. When she was up on two hooves, Sparkshower actually met Anonymous face-to-face, though she did have to look up into his eyes.

Glamerspear glanced around the room. "Yeah, well, maybe they're the finest, but no offense, Artemis was right; if the batponies are here at the Gala, and especially if the Night Guard is on duty on the walls, then this event just got a whole lot more dangerous."

Eb lifted an eyebrow, still watching the dancing scene. "Is the Gala usually dangerous?"

Lily whinnied, taking her eyes off the scene to turn around and lean back against the railing, scanning the gallery-hall behind them. "It can get crazy, but I guess I was exaggerating a bit: it's usually not dangerous."

As the ponies on the dance floor went through the motions a second time, Honour saw things start to fall into place.

‘They'll begin in just a few moments.’

Honour’s thoughts turned to her previous Gala experience. "We heard of a couple of incidents when I was in the guardroom last year. The biggest was that somepony knocked over a big statue and it took out a whole bunch of decorative columns and nearly took out a few ponies at the same time. And there was an escape from the Palace Menagerie, a small zoo here on the grounds. Somepony told me that a few drunks got into the paddocks, but they never caught the offenders. I remember hearing about some sort of food fight as well; a few guards were asked to take their charges out to get a change of clothes."

Lily turned around again with an eyebrow raised. "I don't remember reading anything about that in Canterlot Match."

"Obviously, they hushed it all up. Can't have anything but perfection for Canterlot's premier event. The Powers that Be wouldn't allow it."

Lily’s other brow rose in surprise. "You don't mean Their Majesties, do you?"

Honour shook her head. "No, I don't think They would. And from the way They spoke about the Gala on Monday, I almost think They'd have been happy for this thing to get shaken up a bit now and again. Both seemed pretty fed up with the formality of it all. But I think the rest of the court wouldn't want it getting out, though."

Down in the ballroom, the M.C. had released his smiling press-ganged companion with a hoof-kiss and an elegant bow before taking the podium once more. The three of them paused their conversation to watch.

"Well, Ladies and Gentlecolts, as you can see we've finished our warmup. The formal first dance has been a feature of the Grand Galloping Gala almost since its inception, and to date it has never been performed with anything less than a full dance floor. Let's have a hoof for all of our lovely dancers and especially for the last-minute additions to the ensemble!"

The room erupted into polite applause as well as a few cheers and whistles, to smiles and a few blushes from the dancers. Anonymous and Sparkshower had been positioned halfway down the ballroom, four rows back from the front and one column in from the far long edge.

"Wonderful, wonderful! Tonight we have a very special treat for you, ladies and gentlecolts -- the Lipizzaner Waltz! Tricky steps if you were born with four hooves -- because it only uses two, ha ha!"

That got a few chuckles, then the M.C. turned towards the dancers "May I have silence, if you please. We'll do a dry-run through the moves first, no cameras, no cheers, no music -- just a steady beat and a 'lucky thirty-one' pairs of dancers. Ready? We'll go on the third bar. Maestro, if you please?"

The conductor began waving his hooves, and the percussion section began drumming out the beat of a waltz.

"...One-two-three, two-two-three, and-begin!"

It was a surprising scene with the spectators silent and just the three-count drumbeat as sixty-one pairs of hooves -- and one pair of feet -- went through the motions of the steps. The M.C.'s two assistants were at the back end, lending a hoof to the late additions. Everypony else seemed to have practiced well enough that the whole thing went off like clockwork. The only really funny thing was the way Anonymous and Sparkshower were dancing with neutral expressions on their face. Their VIP looked like he was trying hard to concentrate, while the pegasus was holding herself dignified, but impassive.

‘Surely they won't dance the real thing like that?’

Focusing on them, there was a moment where Honour caught Anon almost tripping over one of his feet, but Artemis held him up and even seemed to guide him into the next move.

‘Clutch save, there.’

Almost as soon as it began, it was over, and the M.C. looked to see the approving nods from his equally well-dressed assistants. "Magnificent! Well-done, everypony, well, done. And let's have another round of applause for our dancers, ladies and gentlecolts!"

A chorus of hoofclaps echoed through the room.

Honour elbowed Glamerspear. "Hey. Hold our cups, why don't you? We should be applauding, too."

Lily’s horn instantly lit up and Honour felt her cup almost jerk out of her forehoof. "Buck, damn straight! Wooo!"

Before she'd even fully seized the drinks, Lily launched into a furious applause that continued on well after almost everypony else had stopped.

Even the M.C. picked up on it. "Fantastic enthusiasm from up in the peanut gallery! Ha ha! Thank you, thank you!" He gave a little nod and a hoof-point to the camera, and Honour saw one of the operators start to turn the crank. "Now, Ladies and Gentlecolts, it is with great pleasure that I hereby open the first dance of the evening at the Grand Galloping Gala. Dancers, at the ready -- and, music."

The orchestra began in earnest, and so did the choreography.

Suggested background music and viewing: André Rieu performing Johann Strauss' 'Emperor Waltz' (Kaiser-Walzer) live in Maastricht 2012, featuring dance scenes set inside Schönbrunn Palace, Vienna, Austria
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EBLaMmxyibE

All three of them were watching Artemis and Anonymous go through the moves. This time, they were putting on happy faces -- and a good show, with no trip-ups that Honour could see. Sparkshower seemed to be genuinely enjoying herself, and the Royal Engineer's smile seemed to be real as well. Even though it was a formal and technically tricky dance, somehow they actually made it seem natural and easy. Doubtless that was helped by the lead of their pair actually being a biped.

For him, moving around on his 'hind' legs is his natural state of affairs, and Honour had seen just how agile he could be on them. But even his pegasus partner was doing a good job; Honour didn't catch her 'cheating' with wing-flaps to stay upright at all. Maybe that wasn't surprising either -- when it came to core strength, the corporal had no doubts that Artemis was the most athletic of the quaternion.

Was she perhaps leaning a bit into him, though?

Or was she just trying to stay close, as the dance demanded?

Either way, it didn't seem to affect anything -- not even the pitch of Anon's back. If she was leaning into him, he clearly had no trouble bearing the weight.

When all thirty-two couples executed a simultaneous spin, thirty-one gowns twirled outwards from the centrifugal force in a wondrous display that could really only be appreciated from their elevation. Many in the audience below gave an appreciative clap at this synchronized maneuver, even though the routine wasn’t finished yet.

Lily grinned and nodded, whispering, "And that's why we're up here!"

It was a fleeting moment of elegant beauty, and Honour was glad to have witnessed it. She actually felt happy for Sparkshower, too; happy that she got to experience this wholesome, well done little group dance at the Gala. If Honour’d had a few more drinks in her, she might even have felt a bit jealous that she wasn't down there with a partner of her own.

As the graceful music slowed and came to an end, the couples adopted their final poses. Anonymous gracefully dipped Sparkshower across his arm, almost as if draping silk. The audience broke into applause and cheers, and in Honour’s peripheral vision she saw the camera turn to take in the audience as well as this finishing scene.

Artemis looked absolutely thrilled. And Anonymous was wearing the same kind of satisfied-but-exhausted smile he had after finally managing to grapple Ebonshield, during battle practice.

When the M.C. started to give a closing speech thanking the dancers and dismissing the audience, the other couples recover back down onto all fours, but Honour noticed that Anon lifted Artemis up straight again and then over into another dip on the other side, this time with a bit of flourish, extending his gloved, free hand up at an angle. She seemed to be laughing about it, and Honour saw tears roll down her rosy cheeks.

Now it was Ebonshield's turn to comment. "That one was not in the manual of steps."

‘The pegasus sure seemed to enjoy it, though.’

After a moment, he raised her up again, but before Artemis could climb down on all fours, Honour saw her crane her neck up and give their VIP a peck on the cheek.

Lily chuckled. "Neither was that move."

With some enthusiastic supporters still applauding, and a few friends and well-wishers stepping out onto the dance floor to congratulate their particular champions, much of the audience started to file back out into the gallery-hall.

Their unicorn comrade redistributed their cocktails. "I vote we finish our drinks before heading down. I'm not interested in pushing through a crowd."

That got Honour’s vote, too, and she was about to take a sip when she spotted one particular peg-legged pony pushing their way towards their VIP and his flushed pegasus escort.

"Damn it, Leeward!"

Chapter 138

Lily Glamerspear

Lily Glamerspear was off to an early start at being completely drunk by the end of the night.

It wasn't helped by the fact that Ebonshield, despite her trim figure, could drink like a fish. The unicorn should have remembered how the batpony managed to outlast her on that first 'meet-and-greet' night drinking upstairs. Yet while Anon and Artemis prepared for, rehearsed, and then executed a very nice Lipizzaner Waltz, and Honour was off conferring with her stallion in shining armor, Lily had been left alone with the bat-fish-pony. Not that Glamerspear was laying all of the blame for her current 'buzz' on Purity: Lily was an eager partner in getting herself drunk, and she was happy to have found that one of her companions, at least, was just as happy to get drunk with her. All the better to forget the vile Captain Montgomery Mailedhoof and look forward to a brighter future.

"Hey, Lily."

At that moment, the unicorn realized somepony was talking to her, and that they weren’t offering to refill her drink. "Hmm?"

Honour, still looking cute in her red dress -- even though she was presently scowling in it -- had ducked behind the wall next to their little balcony, and jerked a forehoof down towards the ballroom floor. The floor where the Royal Engineer and Artemis were about to be intercepted by Honour's father, Leeward.

"I want to hear what they say."

Lily lifted an eyebrow and shrugged. "So, go downstairs. We'll wait here for you."

Honour scoffed. "I mean without revealing myself to Leeward. I want you to tell me."

Lily glanced down -- it was still pretty loud and crowded in the ballroom, and Leeward was still having to weave as he made his way over to their VIP.

‘Fat chance of hearing anything all the way up here.’

"I dunno, I don't think I'll be able to make anything out."

Exasperated, Honour gestured with a forehoof. "So use some magic to hear what they're saying!"

‘Exactly what kind of magic is she proposing here?’

"Huh? I'm a soldier, not a spy."

The brown earth pony narrowed her eyes. "True, but I've never met a unicorn with siblings who didn't have a few sneaky spells under their saddle. And from the way you toss out utility spells like that hoof-glue for slippery surfaces, I bet you're a lot more than the two-trick pony we've seen so far. So, come on, fire up an eavesdropping spell, because I want to listen."

Now that was just prejudicial, and Lily scrunched up her muzzle. Yeah, she had three nerdy brothers who absolutely got into every spell that their mother would allow them to try. And yeah, maybe some of that rubbed off on her -- but she resented the accusation that she was some kind of repository of useful tricks to be called upon at a moment's notice by her leaders. Lily was a 14E air defense specialist; shielding and shooting was all she had to do, besides perhaps the occasional use of base telekinesis.

Beside her, Purity went wide-eyed with delight. "You can do this, Lily? Make the sounds from a distance appear nearby? Such a wonderful skill!"

Now, when Lily’s bubbly drinking buddy, and the only pony in their group whose achievements rivalled her own -- or rather, exceeded hers, if the unicorn was being honest, but then again she was older...

Anyways, Lily wasn’t going to pass up an opportunity to impress her. "Of course I can!"

Honour scoffed. "I knew it. Unicorn guardsponies are always full of magic tricks they never want to let out of the bag. The why of it is beyond me."

Regaining her composure -- and a measure of sobriety -- Lily remembered why she resisted Honour’s request in the first place. "Because, outside of super moto freaks looking for a shot at the special forces, showing off a variety of skilled magic is a surefire way to get given extra duty as the squad's gofer -- and a surefire way to get hammered back down like a square peg stuck in a round hole. Nopony likes an overachiever in the rank and file." Lily scowled at the corporal. "I'd have thought you'd known that, Honour, given the way you talk about your own experiences in the guard."

Peeking briefly around to see her father just a few steps away from reaching Anonymous and Sparkshower, the earth pony hissed ruefully. "Okay, fine. I don't know the troubles that ordinary unicorn soldiers have to go through. Now, can you please just do it? I don't want to miss anything."

Lily nodded, glancing confidently at her batpony comrade. "Sure thing. Gather close, gals -- I'll pipe the sound from in there out here, but it won't be very loud." Lighting up her horn, she fired up a spell that she didn't think she’d used since she spied on her brother Lupin and his marefriend sneaking up into his bedroom…

Artemis Sparkshower

‘That was one of the most magical moments of my life!’

Artemis Sparkshower was still feeling flush with excitement. And maybe a few other emotions.

‘Oooh, hurricanes -- I still can’t believe I actually got up and kissed the Royal Engineer!’

It was just on his cheek, but she didn’t ask permission, and he didn't turn away, and anyways he was the one who’d held her in that unscripted dip at the end. And now the two of them were just standing there, the pegasus on her hind hooves, leaning against his chest, and blushing furiously. With a quick look up, she noticed that he seemed a bit rosy-cheeked, too.

‘Should I get down?’ Artemis vaguely remembered him muttering something about waiting a few moments for the crowds to thin.

Hopefully Honour and Lily and Purity would get here soon to break the tension.

"Ahoy there!"

‘That's not one of my comrades…’

"I say, ahoy there, my Lord Engineer!"

Artemis felt Anonymous stiffen up at the approach of Honour's father, Leeward. That was her cue to give a quick flap of her wings to back away from him, escaping his loose grasp before pivoting on her hooves and getting back down on all fours, taking up position on Anon's left -- the appropriate position, she noted, for either his lady or for his subordinate soldier.

The earth pony sailor hobbled up to them with surprising rapidity, given his peg leg, and their VIP greeted him amiably. "Ahoy there, mister Bound. I trust you're enjoying your evening?"

Leeward briefly tapped a forehoof up to the navy brim of his white sailor's cap, breaking into a smile. "Aye, my Lord, certainly. Never has there been an ill word spoken of Her Majesty Princess Celestia's Grand Galloping Gala, and 'tis a pleasure to see the why of it in person." Licking his lips, he gave a quick bow and indicated Artemis with a forehoof. "If you'll permit me to say so, m'Lord, I caught the end of your performance with miss Sparkshower here, and you were stunning. Absolutely cracking. Danced circles around the other couples."

Anon smiled, chuckling. "I think perhaps you exaggerate, but thank you nonetheless."

Leeward looked at Artemis with warm admiration. "No exaggeration, I assure you! And there was no finer mare on the dance floor than you, miss Sparkshower. I hope you'll bless old hearts like my own with some further spectacular promenades later tonight with your statuesque partner?"

‘Oh, thundershowers!’

‘Dancing some more with the Royal Engineer, after dinner?’

‘The statuesque Royal Engineer?’

She felt her cheeks going flush again. But Artemis didn't know what to say -- it would depend if Anon wanted to dance later. And, moreover, if he wanted to dance with her.

The pegasus choked out a polite, noncommittal answer accompanied by a curtsy. "We'll see, mister Bound. Thank you for the compliments."

"Of course, of course!" He turned to look up at the Royal Engineer once more. "...Now, ah, I beg your pardon m'Lord, but I was wondering if perhaps since you arrived with my daughter Honoria, you might have some idea of her present whereabouts?"

Anon's expression firmed up -- it didn't harden, not quite, but the pleasant levity evaporated. "I'm afraid not, mister Bound. We parted ways some time before the Lipizzaner Waltz."

Leeward looked a little disappointed. "Ah, I see. And she gave you no indication of where she might be found?"

"I'm afraid not. We made promises to meet up again later in the evening, but no concrete plans."

"How unfortunate. I don't wish to hound your lordship for the rest of the evening, but I have not spoken to my daughter in quite some time, you understand, hence my anxiety to see her again after having been forced off-course earlier by churlish sailors already three sheets to the wind. Perhaps I might follow you along until we can all be reunited?"

The Royal Engineer shifted his weight on his feet. "To be perfectly honest with you, mister Bound, Honour directly expressed to me a very concerted desire not to speak with you again."

Now it was Leeward's turn to lose his smile; he didn’t get angry, either, but the congeniality disappeared. "And, being a gentlecolt, of course you will keep true to her request." Despite the firm delivery, it was almost a statement of defeat; there was no way he expected the Royal Engineer to betray Honour.

Artemis found herself instinctively stiffening on her hooves as a fog of tension rolled in between the two colts.

"Yes, for that reason and others. But perhaps I could relay a message on your behalf."

Leeward looked away, grinning. "Oh, relay a message, haha. I've sent many a note to Honoria over the years, but it seems she's little interest in replying to me. I'm afraid my pleas, even delivered through you, my Lord, would fall on deaf ears." Still chuckling, he turned back to the two of them. "Not that it'll stop me from trying. After all, what kind of father would I be if I gave up on seeing to the happiness of my daughter?"

‘Seeing to the happiness of his daughter?’

Artemis still had trouble matching up this gregarious sailor with Honour's description of somepony living in a fantasy, but a statement like that tied him to it a bit more.

That statement made her VIP furrow his brow. "Perhaps not a very good father, but if you'll permit me to serve as a proxy, I understood that Honour's objection to speaking to you had rather a lot to do with what exactly would be conducive to her happiness."

The salty sailor bobbed his head. "Really? She said that much, did she? Well, then, my Lord, and Miss Sparkshower, could I ask you both a simple question? Does my daughter seem happy to you?"

Artemis glanced up at the Royal Engineer, who still held Leeward in his gaze.

‘That is a tough one!’

The corporal didn't smile much, and wasn't very optimistic, and honestly was negative a lot of the time… But to admit that she didn't seem happy felt like it would be a betrayal.

Yet she certainly didn't want to lie about Honour being happy to her own father!

Luckily, Artemis’ VIP came up with an elegant, deflective answer. "In fact, mister Bound, Honour has confided to me on several occasions that she finds her present posting here, as the leader of my bodyguard quaternion, quite satisfying."

Leeward chuckled, rearing back to adjust the position of his hind hooves. "A very good answer, my Lord. But, if you'll forgive me, being satisfied with one's job is not the same as being happy..."

‘Darn, he saw through it.’

Backing off, Leeward stepped around in a wide circle, taking advantage of the ample space in the now nearly-empty ballroom. "When you're happy, the world is a bright, warm place. When you're happy, you see the best in the people around you. When you're happy, you find joy in every day and pleasure in every night. I know my daughter, and I know happiness, and even if I didn't know it from before, at our fleeting encounter earlier tonight, I could see that she wasn't happy. The magic just wasn't there."

Anon folded his arms in front of his chest, a wry grin on his face. "I take it you consider yourself 'happy,' mister Bound?"

At this, Leeward spun around to face them. "Of course! And that's because I follow the one and only way to be happy, as an Equestrian." Limping up once more, he looked at Artemis. "Perhaps your Lordship is unaware of it, as a relative newcomer to our fair land. But your graceful pegasus companion knows it as well as any earth pony or unicorn, I'm sure. For we Equestrians, the key to happiness is seared onto us as visibly as a brand."

Artemis furrowed her brow.

‘A key to happiness seared into Equestrians?’

He could only be talking about one thing.

"You mean our Cutie Marks, mister Bound?"

At that, his face lit up in a wide grin, exposing his gold tooth. "Precisely, miss Sparkshower! Our Cutie Marks. Come now, my dear, won't you share with your partner the purpose of those devices?"

Still feeling confused about the colt's argument, the pegasus looked up at her VIP, who faced down at her. "A pony's Cutie Mark -- common to earth ponies, unicorns, and pegasi alike -- is a symbol on their flanks. They appear around the same time the pony reaches adolescence."

Anon nodded. "Yes, I'd been told that."

But Leeward gestured hastily with a foreleg. "Lively now, my dear, let's have the rest. What do they mean?"

She still didn't see where this was going. "Well, a Cutie Mark generally indicates a particular pony's particular talent or characteristic. It points to what makes that pony special..."

Artemis perked up a bit as she decided to use herself as an example. Hiking her dress with a forehoof, she briefly exposed her flank. "...Like me, for example! My Cutie Mark is three overlapping cumulus clouds raining down sparks! It's not just a reference to my name: I have a talent for managing atmospheric conditions -- I was very good at my job in the Airborne Weather And Climate Service. But for right now, since I'm one of the few pegasi in the Royal Guard who can handle high-altitude flight in heavy armor, I think the sparks are illustrating a clash of bronze armor and weapons high up in the clouds!"

Anon smiled. "I always thought it was a reference to your brilliant personality and shining enthusiasm even in the face of ominous darkness, Artemis."

‘Oooh, tornadoes! There I go getting all rosy again!’

As she quickly fanned herself cool again with her wings, Leeward leaned back and sat down on his haunches, such as he could with his peg leg. "Hah! What matters, in any case, is that Miss Sparkshower knows what unique gifts her Cutie Mark represents, and more importantly, is using those gifts to the best of her abilities."

Leeward paused for a moment, until he was certain he'd captured both Artemis and her VIP's attention once more. "For an Equestrian, true happiness, true joy in life can only come from that. A pony who doesn't understand their Cutie Mark is surely lost, and one who isn't fulfilling their purpose is living in misery."

Leeward looked up at the magnificent illustrated ceiling, and Artemis found herself following his gaze. The arched painting depicted a sky-scape surrounded by classical personifications of the Equestrian states -- a swarthy sailor for Fillydelphia, for example, or a hardworking ranch-hoof for Appleloosa. At the center, enthroned in clouds and surrounded by unicorn representations of the ideal monarchical virtues, sat a single white alicorn with majestic wings and a dazzling pastel-rainbow mane.

Princess Celestia, alone.

Canterlot Palace was built after Princess Luna's rebellion, and by ponies who probably didn't want to have too many visible reminders of that awful event.

Still reverently beholding the fresco, Leeward reached up and pulled off his cap, pressing it tight against his chest. "We are each of us put here in this world for a reason, my Lord. Our Cutie Marks serve as our guides to that reason, that purpose. There's no greater tragic figure than a pony who doesn't understand that."

After spending a moment in reflection, he looked down at the two of them again, and they both met his gaze once more.

Drained of energy, Leeward looked genuinely sad.

It was Artemis’ VIP who spoke next. "And you think Honour is in such a position?"

The weathered sailor nodded. "Aye, I do. It heartens me to hear you say that she's now satisfied with her position, but that is a recent development, and I fear 'tis not enough. She has ever been restless and unhappy." Licking his lips, Leeward glanced up at the ceiling once more. "Honoria, my daughter -- she's very impulsive, when mood takes her. One moment, slack water, and the next, gale force. She can brood over the past, yet she never stops to consider where she's going. On my many crossings across the great Celestia Sea, I've had plenty of time to consider things as they are. I understood my own mark at a very young age, you know, but of late I have come to understand my daughter's as well. As I wish to see her happy, I cannot rest until I have made her see the truth of her purpose."

That was an interesting thought, and Artemis considered his words carefully.

Honour's Cutie Mark was a black 'cross moline' surrounded by a ring of bronze chain. Surely the icon of heraldry and the chain pointed to her present occupation as a VIP bodyguard?

"You don't think she's satisfying her purpose as a VIP bodyguard in the Royal Guard? The heraldic 'cross moline' could represent the noblepony she's sworn to protect, and the encompassing chain could be her act of safeguarding that pony's honor and person."

The colt shook his head. "No, miss Sparkshower, though that is a fine guess. The symbols of our marks speak to our nature, not the nature of others around us. In any case, if that were her purpose, she would have found happiness when she first took up the position, and not only now with your gracious Lord."

That did make sense to Artemis. "What do you think her Cutie Mark means, then?"

Leeward twitched his thin mustache. "That is a personal detail, and should be kept private. But I suppose, since she has confided in you both already, I can share my unshakable conclusion."

With his free hoof, he traced the defining symbol of Corporal Bound's Cutie Mark in the air. "The centerpiece is not a 'cross moline' as you believe, Miss Sparkshower, but a 'cross anchory' -- an anchor. Not in the physical sense as one for a boat, for it's black, the colour of iron, a metal which does not tolerate seawater, but an anchor in the nobler sense, as iron is the metal of the heart and of the hearth. An anchor for a family. And the chain, made of bronze -- sturdy against weather, it encompasses the world, securing all within reach of the anchor."

The sailor broke out of his sadness into a smile of bittersweet joy. "She was destined to be the anchor for her close friends and family. It's so simple, yet so elegant. Do you know, her mark appeared at a remarkably young age? None of her peers had theirs yet; her mother was very proud. And so was I, when I put back into port and saw her mark for the first time..."

Leeward chuckled, shaking his head. "...I should have recognized it for what it meant even then. As I said in the entry atrium, from the moment she was born, she was my spiritual anchor, my connection back home. I always felt the chain connecting me to her. She drew others to her, as well: she had a little group of young freshwater fry following her about, before she joined the guard. I wasn't sure what to make of that, but when she met a charming young colt and fell in love, I saw a bright future ahead of her."

Now it was Anonymous' turn to speak up, in a calm but firm voice. "That 'charming young fellow,' as you call him, lied to and adultered against your daughter."

The sailor nodded, flicking his ears, setting the shiny golden hoops attached to them dangling to and fro. "And my wife adultered against me before then. It's a lonely life, being a sailor and being a sailor's wife. But we are none of us without our flaws. I promised to love Honoria's mother for better or for worse; I still love her now as I did when we first wed. Forgiveness is an essential virtue if one wants to live happily. Honoria has always had trouble with that as well."

Artemis wanted to believe Honour's version of the story, but her father was making an awful lot of good points. Honour did seem to struggle with forgiveness -- with herself, even. The pegasus remembered the incident when the Royal Engineer had workers rearranging his room without a bodyguard present. And when she second-guessed herself after the successful Battle of Newstirrup Bridge. And Artemis had to admit that Honour really didn't seem completely happy, not in the way Leeward was describing his ideal 'happiness,' anyways. The Corporal accused her father of being a stereotype, but wasn't he just simply a good example of a truly happy Equestrian pony?

It was a lot to process at once.

After a moment of contemplation, Artemis’ VIP unfolded his arms. "Well, Mister Bound, I must admit that you make some good points, and I appreciate your advice about how to live a happy life. But I do believe there's a serious flaw in your argument; perhaps one which, as a non-pony, I'm uniquely positioned to point out."

That got Leeward's attention, and the older colt collected himself. "Oh? I'm all ears, m'Lord."

Anonymous pointed at his hip. "As you say, Cutie Marks are unique to Equestrians. I don't have one; none of my kind do. But everything you've said about happiness absolutely applies to my people. Discovering one's purpose in life, and pursuing it, is surely the route to spiritual fulfilment; this fact has been opined upon many times, by many of the finest philosophers and sages of my world. We do so without the benefit of a stamp upon us, but the challenge is the same."

Furrowing his brow, he shook his head. "The problem is that discovering your purpose in life is a fundamentally personal journey. No one else, not even a parent, can tell you what your purpose is. To be told your purpose destroys the sense of fulfilment from having found your niche, because the satisfaction is in the finding, not merely in the knowing."

The Royal Engineer spread his gloved hands wide. "I don't think it's a question of whether or not your interpretation of her Cutie Mark is 'correct,' mister Bound. The problem I see is that it is your interpretation, and not hers. She might possibly come to the same conclusion, but what matters is that it's her conclusion, and hers alone. That's what will make it special to her. Coming to our own understanding of ourselves is what opens the path to self-realization. You just can't be told or led, let alone cajoled or forced."

Artemis’ tall VIP inhaled deeply through his nose. "...So, I'm sorry, sir. I appreciate that you believe your daughter is in distress and want to help her as best you can, but even if your premise that she's unhappy because she hasn't found her purpose in life was true, I must advise you to abandon the idea of guiding her to the path you see for her. We each have to find our own path, and your prodding to what you see as the 'right' direction can only serve to alienate her, as unfortunately it seems already to have done."

Anonymous' forceful argument gave pause to Leeward. If Honour hadn't been replying to his letters, maybe he'd never really had to actually argue this point with anypony else before. At least, nopony as clever as their VIP!

Or even Honour.

But with all this talk about happiness, Artemis wondered a bit about the health of her own Very Important Pony, especially since he wasn't actually a pony.

She cleared her throat. "Anonymous, are you... happy? Do you know your purpose, I mean?"

He took a deep breath. "That's a good question. After my broken-off engagement, I felt lost for quite some time. That wasn't helped when I became physically lost from arriving here in this world by accident. Very soon after arriving here, seeing the state of things, I set myself a goal of industrializing Equestria. I've been working hard towards it, but I have to admit until quite recently it wasn't completely satisfying. I kind of pushed down that dissatisfaction and focused on the task at hand, though. It was the only way I could think of to move forward as a stranger in a strange land."

That was awfully sad, but he'd left out more recent developments.

Artemis nodded in understanding. "And now?"

Anonymous shrugged. "I still don't know. It's certainly been a lot more lively since you all showed up. I haven't just had my nose buried in books and papers. And my path towards industrialization has meandered and been detoured several times. But I haven't felt worse because of it -- I've felt better, actually." With a chuckle, he shook his head. "I can't say that I know my purpose here, but if happiness is fulfilling one's purpose, then I sure feel like I'm a lot closer to fulfilling mine."

He smiled warmly at Artemis, and she smiled back. Some of the exuberance of having just danced the Lipizzaner Waltz at the Grand Galloping Gala with a handsome, intelligent, and honorable colt started rushing back in.

Leeward still seemed deep in thought, and perhaps a bit in shock.

Finally, he stood up on all fours. "I confess that your Lordship makes an interesting point. I think I shall have to ponder the matter further. In the meantime, if I cannot see my daughter in person, I should very much like to take you up on your offer to convey her a message."

Anonymous nodded. "Of course."

The old sailor -- and it was only now, in this moment of weakness, that he actually looked old -- tried to recompose himself. "Would you kindly tell my daughter that, in spite of anything she may have done to me in the past, I forgive her, and in turn I seek her forgiveness for anything I may have done to her. If she can forgive me, then I should very much like to see her again, even if only in silence." He sniffled, and Artemis saw a tear start to form at his right eye -- quickly wiped away by a forehoof.

"...My Lord, I was not completely honest earlier when I said that I was happy. I'm very nearly there, but I'm still missing one crucial piece. I must prevail upon your Lordship's good graces to help me find it. With that, I take my leave."

The two were both a bit dumbstruck by that admission, but Leeward Bound, boatswain of the 'Tambermane,' still holding his cap against his breast, gave a deep bow. Then he turned, replaced his hat, and strode off with a noticeable clip-clop-clip-TOC from his peg leg.

Lily Glamerspear

Lily Glamerspear was definitely too sloshed for whatever just happened. Some kinda metaphila...

Metaphile...

Metaphys...

Well, some kinda meta discussion anyways, about happiness and misery or whatever. It was all a lot of nonsense; the way she saw it, things were simple: happiness was being three or four drinks into a night. Misery was being more than six, depending of course on when the night started.

Lily was hovering at the five-drinks threshold, having nursed her most recent pour since well before the Lipizzaner Waltz. This was the cutoff point, if she wanted to be smart about things. As soon as she got some food in her at dinnertime, probably switching to water until the dance floor opened up properly -- still at least two hours away -- then she could resume again, staying neatly in the 'happy' window.

On her left, one very happy batpony softly clip-clopped her forehooves together. "¡Magnífica! We heard every word as easily as if they had been here in front of us! Truly the magia de unicornios, she is if anything undersold. You have great talent, Lily."

Terminating the spell, the unicorn pursed her lips and rolled one shoulder up as she brought a forehoof playfully up to her tuft. "Well, you know, Purity, one does try."

Lily looked over at Honour, hoping for some more half-drunken praise, but she was just sitting there, stupefied.

‘Is she drunker than I am?’

With earth pony physiology, that seemed impossible, unless she'd been doing nothing but sucking down drinks since the moment she’d left the original group to go find her stallion sergeant.

Lily dipped her head a bit to catch the earth pony’s gaze. "Hey, you okay there, Honour? Don't get too hypnotized by my dazzling mana weaves, now."

The red-clad, brown pony blinked a few times, then shook her head quickly. "Sorry, I, uh. Huh..."

Then she reached for her drink and, with a moment's contemplation, quickly knocked back the whole thing in one gulp.

That told Lily that either she did drink a lot while she was gone, or more likely, she didn't drink anything at all and now suddenly felt the need to catch up.

‘Yeah, dealing with fathers do sometimes be like that.’

Honour coughed and screwed her muzzle up as the sting of the booze hit her throat, then put the glass down. "...Thanks for that, Lily."

It was unclear if she was thanking her for the drink or for the spell. Maybe it was both.

Lily cocked an eyebrow. "So, are we good to reunite the party-patrol quaternion?"

Honour nodded, slowly, and still with that same bewildered expression. "Yeah, let's go downstairs."

Much as Lily would have loved to poke into her mind a little more, on the one hoof she was feeling a little too tipsy to do that right now, on the other hoof, it was a lot more fun to do it with a larger audience. And on the third and fourth hooves, it would work better if everybody else was a little more hammered, too. So, time to find Anonymous, Artemis, and the nearest bar!

Suggested interlude music: Yola Recoba - 'Wicked Game' [2020]
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=58MwfECyxck

Chapter 139

Purity Ebonshield

To Pureza Ébanoscudo, this was a spread most incredible. Pastries! Jellies! Confits and jams! 'Terrines' and 'madeleines,' soups and stews, pies and cakes, rolls and buns, creams and cheeses, a dozen kinds each of caviar and truffles! She was fortunate that each fantastic table at the buffet was accompanied by one or more servants of the kitchen, clad in double-breasted white jackets and round white hats, or else she’d not have known what half of the items on the menu were called -- less than half, even.

The 'Grand Galloping Gala' of the Equestrians defied any comparison with even the greatest feasts of the Children of the League of Stars. And Purity Ebonshield had attended some of those great feasts -- as a competitor in tournaments, often as a feted champion, and later as the Stellar Seventh, accompanying Draxon, her Eighth, as his bodyguard. Later still, attending as the highest-ranking Stellar in the absence of a living Eighth. But those Lunar offerings paled in comparison: in quantity and in quality, there was no surpassing this most supreme output of the farms of Equestria and the kitchens of the Palace of Canterlot.

Not everyone was quite so appreciative, however -- from behind her, the batpony heard the grumbling voice of her unicorn comrade. "Are you staring again? Come on, let's keep this line moving! Some of us wanna finish filling our plates so we can actually go sit and eat!"

Ebonshield was unable to avert her gaze away from the spire of small icing-topped cakes which towered before her. "Sí, I understand, but some of us wish to admire this great assembly of dishes, before they can be completely devoured."

Pointing a forehoof, she leaned over slightly towards the attendant of the table, a young, rosy-cheeked unicorn mare with a dark violet mane, dressed as the others in the white uniform of the palace kitchens and staring disinterestedly off into space. "What are these called, if you please?"

The mare inclined her head towards them. "These are 'calissons,' Madam. A Prench dessert consisting of paste of candied orange blended with almonds, and topped with royal icing."

‘Oh, I will definitely have one of those.’

"Thank you." Flapping her wings to gain height, the batpony delicately picked one from near the top of the spire so as not to destabilize the impressive structure, then added the item to her plate.

Lily just shook her head at Ebonshield. "You sure have a sweet tooth, Purity. Is there even any actual dinner on your plate, or is it all desserts?"

The batpony spared a glance at her dish, which was close to forming a spire of its own. Well, at least a flat-topped pyramid. "Perhaps buried underneath. But I can always come back to the line of this 'buffet' a second time."

The unicorn scoffed. "Sure, I bet there's restocks for everything in the kitchen. But how th'Tartarus do you keep such a slim profile with an appetite like that?"

Ebonshield laughed in return. "By only eating this much on the occasions especial, of course!" Lifting an eyebrow, she turned her head back towards Lily, even as she fluttered her way to the next table. Lily’s plate, held aloft in her aura telekinetic, bore a selection which was quite modest in comparison. "...I hope you are not worrying about your 'profile' on a day like this?"

Lily whinnied. "Hey, some of us have to wear body armor in our day jobs. And someof us hope to be able to fit into the same dress in a couple of years, too."

Purity made a show of examining Lily’s dress, and particularly her backside. "Of course! But there is plenty of room." Lowering her voice, she continued. "And anyways, what a shame to tantalize the colts with a shapely skirt if there is little for them to find underneath!"

That made the unicorn stop in place, and she scrunched up her muzzle. "Are you accusing me of having a flat plot?" With a confused expression, Lily examined Purity’s posterior. "...I mean, you?!"

Purity had to admit that, in that comparison, she was correct. But the batpony had not yet reached the end of her argument, and she circled back to draw in closer still. "Ay, cariño, my physique is constrained by the requirements of my profession. But you do not have to perform the acrobatics as I do, and you complain often of your need to keep your figure as-is. I do not propose that you neglect your exercise, but I know that the colts, they also like the nalguitas with a little bounce to them, yes? Some mollette for their chorizo."

Her use of the euphemisms gastronomic appeared only to have confused Lily further. "Hunh? Mind translating that into Equestrian?"

‘So much for the route indirect.’

"All I am saying is that, combined of course with the correct exercises for the muscles underneath to keep the tone, I think you would do well not to worry about trying to be so skinny. Your natural form seems to me a little more rounded. There is no shame to that, and many colts appreciate the shape curved."

Even this new, direct approach still left her looking confused. "Sarge, are you seriously giving me some kind of, like, body-positivity chat, here, right now, in the buffet line at the Grand Galloping Gala of Canterlot Palace? Like, just how sloshed are you?"

That, Ebonshield was plenty -- but no more than Lily.

The batpony just smiled and shook her head. "Perhaps the moment is not ideal, but I have been meaning to tell you this for some time. And I want you to enjoy yourself here!" She pointed at the pegasus behind her. "...Look how our camarada takes two plates at once! There is a mare with good appetite!"

Instantly, Artemis lifted her head up from where she was adding more items to one very full plate and a more modest one next to it. "Oh, no, these aren't both for me -- I offered to get Anonymous a plate while he and Honour found us a table."

Her argument did not deter Purity. "But you will be back for more, yes?"

Artemis looked down at the fuller plate -- clearly the one intended for herself. "Yeah, sure! After everypony's had a chance to have their first, I mean. I don't want to be greedy." She picked the plates back up off of the table.

Meanwhile, stepping forward to the next serving station, Ebonshield flapped a knowing wing in the direction of Lily. "You see? I may be a little drunk, but at least I am a happy drunk. Do not let yourself become a miserable one, or you will ruin the mood festive."

After a moment to parse her words, the unicorn scoffed and then hustled up to join her at the next station. "Sheesh, you really pick weird times to dole out advice, Purity." Softening her expression, she continued. "But hey, since you're in the advising mood, maybe I can ask you a few questions about something else I've been dealing with?"

Even with so much alcohol clouding her mind, the subject of this discussion was instantly obvious to the batpony. "How goes your training with Ignacio?"

Lily flattened her ears and furrowed her brow. "Okay, I guess. Things have been going slow, but I've been improving."

Another pony in front of them was still busy with the serving platter, so Purity gave the unicorn her attention undivided. "He is an experienced teacher. And I am sure that you are a quick learner."

Lily nodded, her horn still glowing from levitating her plate. "Yeah. I'm just not a hundred percent sure on the why of it, sometimes. Did you know this other Eclipse colt, Ro-the-nan-tay?"

"Rocinante? I have heard of him, but I have never met him..." Thinking back, Purity looked briefly up towards the vaulted palace ceiling. "...Once, when I was waiting to meet Ignacio at the entrance of the Halls of the Blind, I heard beautiful singing, the voice of an old colt. The melody was entrancing, enchanting. Later, I mentioned the music to Ignacio, and he said that was Rocinante whom I had heard. I wish I could have witnessed him perform in person."

Lily took a deep breath. "Yeah, well, this Rocinante, apparently he called out on his deathbed, told Ignacio that he needed to teach me their ways. No explanation why. I'm not against learning -- heck, I'm pretty interested, but the idea that there's some kind of prophecy behind it gives me the heeby-jeebies, ya know? Especially on top of the already-creepy subject matter and the pretty weird place we have to go for it."

Purity waved a forehoof dismissively. "Mmmm, yes, I see, but I must correct you. This was no prophecy; the Eclipse do not prophesize."

Lily lifted an eyebrow. "Really? It sure sounded like one. And there're prophecies attributed to famous unicorn mages. Why not your mages, too?"

Shaking her head, the batpony continued. "I do not know why, but the Children have only ever had one prophecy -- on the subject the long slumber of our Great Mother -- and this was issued from the Great Mother Herself, before she fell into torpor..." She chuckled. "... And of course, what a confusing prophecy She gave us! Bad enough that we had great difficulty at first in keeping track of the Equestrian years from the Moon, but in the phrasing, She said She was to sleep for 'an age.'" Finally seeing an opportunity to avail herself of the gourmet delicacies from the table following, Purity took a step forward to hunt for something appetizing, still talking. "'An age' -- what is this, eh? A hundred years? Five hundred? Eight hundred and eighty eight, since for us eight is the number sacred?"

Following after her, the unicorn squinted. "And your mom was the only one to guess that it meant one thousand years?"

Ebonshield nodded. "She was not the only one to realize this, particularly after the other dates had come and gone, but she also calculated the date correctly. Many others who thought the same way were off by some months or years, since we had lost track of the time precise. The rest were waiting for one-thousand-and-eight or later dates."

Haphazardly telekinetically picking something off of this table for herself, Lily nodded. "Huh. Anyways, if what Rocinante said isn't prophecy, what is it?"

Taking one of a dozen small pre-served bowls of luxurious custard, Purity answered plainly. "Simply a dying request, as you said." By the confused expression on the unicorn’s muzzle, the answer had not satisfied her, so she continued. "...I cannot truly answer this for you. As close as I am with Ignacio, the ways of the Eclipse are still alien to me. You and Artemisa are the only ponies not of their kind that I have ever heard of being invited into the Halls of the Blind. I can only guess that Rocinante wished to make sure that their knowledge is passed on, since the Eclipse are a dying breed."

Lily nodded, glumly. "Yeah, I heard -- no more births under the solar eclipse, no more Eclipse magicians. The Rookery under Canterlot mountain must be full of pregnant mares when one of those events is forecast."

Remembering one such event in the last year, Purity chuckled. "Yes, and quite cramped. As spacious as those caves may seem, when everypony gives up space to allow the one or two hundred mothers and their foals some room to breathe, then things are different." Laughing again at the sheer chaos that occasion brought, the batpony reflected for a moment, and placed a forehoof on Lily’s shoulder. "My advice to you is to learn as much as you can, and be prepared to pass what you know on, in your own fashion, lest the knowledge be lost." Purity shot her a grin. "Who knows? Perhaps, as you complain your brothers have been to the universidad de magia, you will one day find yourself there as a teacher, mentoring others in these arts."

From how she has described her brothers -- and Purity’s beau, Gilberto -- the batpony almost expected her to shudder with revulsion at the suggestion. But instead, she simply unfurrowed her brow, raised her ears up again, and looked off in the distance.

"Maybe."

‘For such a response brief and unemotional, she must have considered this possibility already.’

Artemis came up behind Lily, having added to her two plates from this station as well. "Whew! This all looks so yummy! Looks like there's only two stations left."

Her exclamation seemed to prompt something in the unicorn. "Yeah. Hey, Purity, tell me something else. You and Ignacio both said that all Stars train to hunt down abominations -- ponies that get possessed by the Accursed Shadows. What's that like?"

The batpony lifted an eyebrow and glanced at Artemis, who suddenly went a bit pale. "You have seen this for yourself, no? When your comrade allowed herself to be used in demonstration?"

They exchanged glances, before Lily nodded her head towards the pegasus. "Yeah, but she was magically restrained, forced to just stand there. What are abominations like to fight?"

That was a shadowy subject, unsuited to the hallowed and gleeful halls of the beautiful Palacio de Canterlot. But there was quite a queue for the next station of service -- which meant there must be something quite good there! -- so, Purity supposed they had a little time. And if Ignacio was teaching Lily the ways of the Eclipse, she should know everything that their magic entails.

Both Equestrians sat in line behind her, waiting anxiously.

"...To fight an abomination is a challenge extraordinary. Even the sand creatures summoned in the pit are but pale imitations. The Accursed Shadow, once inside a body, will fight with all their might to keep what they now possess." Purity cast her mind back to the time when she underwent the training; a long time ago, now. As with all Stars, this training was conducted early; she was scarcely a First of the Order of the Shining Stellar Dance.

"Master Draxon likened the abomination to taking a creature and removing the shackles of mortality. They do not need to eat or drink, they do not sweat and never run out of breath. They put all their energy into every movement, and their reserve of such power, at least in the short term, is almost limitless." She glanced up at the ceiling above her, easily forty hooves high. "I have seen an abomination jump -- simply jump, for his wings were broken and useless -- higher than the roof above our heads, in the blink of an eye. That was on the Moon, admittedly, where the gravity is less; but even so, this is a feat quite substantial. They can gallop faster than an avalanche, they see perfectly even in the darkness absolute, and they are said to hear better than rabbits and smell more than hounds."

She remembered cornering the abomination, ganging up ten against one, cocksure of victory. After all, had her people not once been plagued by them, only to rise up and wipe them out?

But the grin of that cornered beast foretold what happened next.

"...When they strike, they hit with a force that ought to break even their own bones, yet does not. And these attacks come with the velocity almost blinding. Usually, in our training against them, nopony dies -- usually. But even so, a group of novice hunters will return injured, sometimes gravely..."

Two cracked ribs and a twisted ankle, and she was lucky to have gotten away from the fight with only that. Others in her group had suffered far worse: a high price to pay for the knowledge of how to defeat such creatures.

Taking a deep breath, Purity noted that she could now take a step forward in the queue, and did so. "But the part which truly terrifies me, and should scare you also, is this: the abomination I describe to you was formed from an Accursed Shadow in possession of an old, frail, and injured batpony; a former warrior, long since past their prime." She looked over the large, athletic, and youthful pegasus. "...What nightmare would we face if they possessed someone who is at their peak, and a challenging adversary in their own right?"

Lily just nodded, but Artemis furrowed her brow and thought for a moment. "Nightmare Moon, that's who."

Purity shook her head. "No, the Great Mother was not abomination; at least, not in our dogma. With an abomination, the Accursed Shadow commands the body. But for the Nightmare Moon, the Princess Luna was still in control -- so says our scripture. And, I should add, the abominations are feral creatures: intelligent in their brutality, but almost completely unrestrained in their violence. This is part of why armies made of their kind ultimately fell apart. Whereas on the other hoof, our Great Mother was a great leader of the rebellion of our ancestors, the League of Stars."

Lily squinted in thought. "Hold on a minute. If Princess Luna really was in charge of herself the whole time, then how come she stopped being, well, evil, when the Elements of Harmony blasted the Accursed Shadow out of her?"

That was a very good question; one for which the batpony had no answer. She could only shrug. "Who can say? Our dogma concerns the events of the past, during the rebellion actual, a thousand years ago. No-one is alive who remembers the Great Mother as she was then, besides Herself and the Princesa del Sol. What might have changed, in her form or in her thoughts during her long slumber? "

Lily nodded. "Yeah, fair, maybe she changed. A thousand years is a long time, after all..." She chuckled. "I know I can have a change of heart after a good sleep."

Artemis remains concerned, however, staring down at the ground even as she hovered in the air. "I don't really remember what happened while I was possessed, but I remember that the shadow seemed to know me. And didn't Ignacio say he couldn't perceive Anonymous when he first met him? Yet he managed to summon a shadow that took Anonymous' shape with the sand..."

The pegasus raised her head. "... What if when you're training to hunt shadows, the shadows know they're being hunted? So that's why they fight so desperately to escape?"

A curious thought, but surely wrong.

"There is no escape. This training is done using a network of tunnels with only one exit, and that one is sealed against passage by another Eclipse on the outside, maintaining a barrier like the one used to restrain you during your own possession. If the Accursed Shadows are aware of the situation, the action clever would be to simply restrain themselves and deny us the opportunity to train."

Artemis could only shrug, still holding the two full plates. "Maybe they just can't help themselves. Anyways, it looks like we can move up."

Taking steps towards the next station, Purity was rewarded with an outstanding selection of cakes. These, at least, required no introduction. But which to choose? Looking to the steward, a colt in white, she decided to take guidance from above. "Could you tell me which of these delicious pastries is preferred by Her Majesty the Princess Celestia?"

The colt raised an eyebrow. After a moment, he pointed a forehoof towards a round, violet-robed confection topped with strawberries. "I understand that Her Majesty is most fond of the strawberry génoise, ma'am."

There had already been several slices cut from that one, revealing a golden-brown interior. Purity eagerly held out her plate. "I would have a slice, by your favor."

"Certainly, ma'am."

The colt wasted no time in bringing up a knife, cutting a moderately-sized slice, and then grabbing some kind of trowel for cakes to transfer the batpony’s portion to the top of her now quite towering plate. "Gracias. With this, I think I am now finished, or else my plate will surely fall over. I will visit the station final afterwards."

Lily looked over the cakes and nodded. "Yeah, I'm with you..." Then she glanced up at the batpony with a smile. "Thanks for the pep talk, but I'm gonna lay off the cake until later. That's an after-dancing type of treat in my books." She turned to the pegasus. "How about you, Artemis? I think you've got more than enough there."

The poor young pegasus mare hunched her shoulders with disappointment. "But we just got to the end!" Then she considered the towering contents of her plates, one of which teetered dangerously with each flap of her wings. "...Well, okay. I'll take one piece of the strawberry génoise as well, at least; if Anonymous wants some, then we could share it." After receiving her slice in turn, the three of them exited the line of the buffet and headed towards the dining tables.

Lily nodded her muzzle at the two plates borne by the pegasus. "I guess I shoulda asked earlier, but didja want me to maybe carry one or both of those? I'm not so tipsy that I'm gonna be spilling stuff out of my telekinesis yet."

Artemis shook her head. "Oh, it's okay, Lily, I'm managing just fine! These plates are a lot lighter than my armor after all, hah. I just hope that Anonymous likes what I picked out for him."

The unicorn lifted an eyebrow. "Did he have any requests?"

"No, only to avoid things with hay in them," Artemis replied.

"Makes sense. I don't think actual monkeys eat hay either."

"Lily! You shouldn't call him that."

"I wasn't. But, I mean, he is related to them. I'm just sayin' their diets are probably similar, that's all."

Immediately, the pegasus flapped her wings and whipped around to impose herself in front of the unicorn. "Lily Glamerspear! Our Very Important Pony may not be a pony, but he's no monkey! Could a monkey have helped you beat Lieutenant Kilfeather? Could a monkey have built a self-propelled air-defense weapon? Could a monkey have led us to victory against a subterranean ambush?"

She seemed quite upset. Was this outburst solely because of drinking the alcohol?
Purity thought that perhaps no, for there were several other signs quite telling. The kiss on the cheek after the dance, the questions for Anonymous about happiness, the fetching of a plate of dinner. And now, the defending him against even the slights unintended?

The unicorn and pegasus were staring each other down. Hovering in place, the batpony decided to inject a little chaos. "Indeed, could a monkey have danced gracefully the Waltz Lipizzaner?"

Artemis seized immediately upon her statement. "That too!"

"Could a monkey have such kindness and care for his friends?"

"Right!"

"Could a monkey be so deserving of respect and admiration?"

"Yeah!!"

"Could a monkey appear as statuesque and attractive?"

"You see, Lily? She understands!"

‘Now I have her.’

"Could a monkey attract the attentions romantic of Artemis Sparkshower?"

"Exactly!"

A moment later, she realized what Purity had said and dropped to the ground on her hind hooves, throwing her wings around her muzzle in embarrassment. Without a thought, her unicorn friend immediately seized up the two plates in her telekinesis, yanking them almost violently away from the rosy-cheeked pegasus. "Yeah, exactly! I knew you were actin' funny, Sparks; should've seen it earlier. Didya forget what Corporal Bound told you about crushing on our VIP so soon after your breakup?"

Immediately, the protestations began. "But that was over a week ago! I'm over it!"

With a nod to the pegasus, Lily took Purity’s plate as well in her magic, allowing the batpony to land and throw a wing over the poor mare to comfort her, pulling away her wings and letting her down onto all fours. The speaking, however, she left to the unicorn.

"Yeah, right. You're still on the rebound, Artemis. The way you were acting at the club on Tuesday, all the colts hanging off your hooves?"

Still the protestations continued. "So? Aren't I allowed to have admirers? Anyways, you're one to talk with the way you and Purity were crudely teasing Anonymous about his... his 'preferences.'"

This at least was a point Purity could refute. "That was perhaps not the most commendable action, but she was done in the spirit of fun and of engaging our handsome VIP more closely with the party. Perhaps he has learned more about himself as a result, as well."

Artemis looked down at the floor for a moment. "Well, you also teased me about finding a colt, too. And then we were dancing, and I was so happy, and... then he dipped me."

Lily laughed, snorting. "Pfsh -- 'course, he did, 'cause he's a stud. Why else would we tease him about getting himself a mare?"

That was a comment not so helpful in the situation current. Artemis continued, however. "And then I kissed him, and he smiled, and I blushed, and I felt my heart racing, and then Mister Bound showed up and even he assumed that we were a couple, and then I offered to get Anonymous his dinner plate, and he accepted, and isn't that how things are supposed to go when you're with someone you like, I mean really like? Maybe we're not anything right now, but aren't those, well, signals?"

Ebonshield’s own relationships, having never been quite so involved, had left her at a loss for words, and she looked to her other Equestrian comrade for assistance.

The unicorn only rolled her eyes and sighed. "Oh, brother; you really are head over hooves, talking about signals. Look, let's just bring him his plate and you can clear it with the Corporal when she gets up to get hers."

While expedient, Purity wondered if such a statement would be sufficient. As she removed her wing from Artemis, the batpony took a moment to look her in her eyes. "Artemis, are you serious about your interest in the Engineer Royal?"

She nodded. "I think so. If he's interested, I mean. It's just flirting right now, isn't it? I never really flirted with anypony before, I guess."

Ebonshield smiled. "Certainly. But the rules of the flirting, they are these: the objective is to establish interest, not to overwhelm the subject of your affections. And likewise, not to be overwhelmed in turn. You must be calm in your actions and reactions. For against the attacks frequent, we all raise our shields in defense. And as my master Draxon told me: 'only the blade slow will penetrate the shield.'"

After a moment of thought, Artemis straightened up and nodded. "I understand. I guess I was kind of getting ahead of myself a bit."

From the unicorn beside her, however, Purity heard a snort. "Yeah, great, hoof-me-down dating advice from the batpony master of assassins, all the way from the bucking Moon. Can we go find our table and sit down now? I need some food in me to temper all this booze before the dance floor opens up."

Without waiting for an answer, and levitating all four plates above her, Lily pushed on through the crowds of ponies looking to join the buffet line towards the dining tables. Smiling, Purity followed after her.

Chapter 140

Artemis Sparkshower

Artemis Sparkshower was flying in unfamiliar skies over an unfamiliar land. She'd never been the type to leave a heaping plate of mouth watering dinner items at the dinner table unattended! But now she was just leaving them there, all alone -- if just temporarily.

But it was the right thing to do; she couldn't let Honour go to the buffet all by herself, unescorted. Not when there were batponies and drunken sailors and overbearing fathers all marauding about! Besides, this way the pegasus could usher her to the best grub.

Well, not that she’d actually tasted any of Their Majesties' incredible spread yet, but still -- she remembered what was available at each and every station, and the reconnaissance pegasus was more than ready to serve not just as her escort, but her guide as well!

And, maybe she could also pick Honour’s brain a bit when it came to their Very Important Pony -- who wasn't actually pony, but that hadn't stopped Artemis from becoming interested in him. As she wondered just how to broach that last subject, waiting in line for the second time at the long serving table, while hovering in the air and holding Honour's plate for her, it was to Artemis’ surprise that it was her comrade who spoke up first.

"Hey, Artemis. When you were with the Royal Engineer in the ballroom after your dance and my father approached you, he didn't, uh, turn around and say anything after his parting message to me, did he?"

Lily had already shared how she'd used a tricky little bit of magic to allow Honour -- and herself, and Purity -- to all listen in on that conversation. Artemis shook her head. "No, that was it. I think you heard everything."

"Hmm."

Facing toward the front of the line, Honour furrowed her brow. Artemis wasn’t surprised the earth pony was still turning things over in her head, but the Grand Galloping Gala was supposed to be a party. Was she going to fall into the same trap that Lily did just minutes ago in this very same buffet line, worrying over something instead of letting go and just enjoying herself?

Putting on a reassuring smile, Artemis tried to flutter over into her field of view. "Don't worry, Honour. If you still want to avoid your father, I'll spot him long before he can find you. Or, if you have something to say to him, I can do that too. I'm sure Anonymous would also be happy to act as an intermediary..."

There was no reaction, so she continued. "... I mean, if there was any doubt before, he's proven himself a real gentlecolt, hasn't he?"

Still staring aimlessly ahead of her, Honour muttered in response, "Sure, even if he's not exactly a 'colt'."

‘Exactly!’

Artemis’ face erupted with glee. "And that's what really makes him so special, I think! He's not a pony, and he hasn't even been in Equestria for very long, and by his own admission he's been a bit of a shut-in until Her Majesty gave him bodyguards, but even so, he's observant and clever and he's figured out so much out on his own!"

All of that unmitigated swooning seemed to finally pull Honour out of her daze, and she whinnied softly, smirking at the pegasus. "Still flying high after your dance in the ballroom?"

Artemis was blushing, but she made no effort to conceal it. "Yes. There's nothing wrong with that, is there?"

There was a brief pause where the corporal looked her over from head to tail. Then her expression softened. "No, I suppose there isn't." She went quiet, directing her gaze forward once more, and Artemis found herself at a loss for what to say next.

‘Did she see something?’

The pegasus discreetly scrutinized her own dress, but everything seemed to be in order. It didn't look like she’d spilled anything on it, and it still looked as lovely now as it did when Lily plucked it off the rack in that Hackney Trot discount fashion outlet. Even better than then, actually, since she’d added slits for Artemis’ wings and corrected the fit for her, ahem, athletic physique.

She paused to think for a moment. The line advanced another few hoofsteps, bringing her one place closer to being served.

That's when it occurred to her: Honour wasn't evaluating her clothes: she was evaluating her.

Well, wasn't that what she’d said, after the little incident with Artemis sticking her tuft out at the Royal Engineer? That when it came to a possible relationship, she didn't think Anonymous would be receptive until he thought she’d gotten over her break-up? True, it hadn't been very many actual days since that date, but the long-distance nature of the relationship ever since Artemis had arrived in Canterlot for her VIP training had, perhaps, made letting go of the past a lot easier. She’d certainly felt over it, ever since Thursday, and especially since arriving at the Gala, no matter what Lily said. And after that wonderful dance with the Royal Engineer less than an hour ago, Artemis didn't feel big any more, either.

It was a wonderful high.

Is that what Honour had seen, when she’d looked the pegasus over? A confident mare, soaring proudly on her own two wings? Is that why she didn't raise any objection after Artemis had gushed over him?

She’d said she didn't think pursuing a relationship with him was a good idea, not while Artemis was his bodyguard, but she’d also said that she wasn't going to stand in her way. The question of what the quaternion's corporal saw in her raised a more important question in her mind:

‘What did Anonymous see when he looked at me?’

If he were as clever and observant as she thought he was, he would know she’d tried to flirt with him in the past. Artemis had never come out and propositioned him -- nothing even close to what Purity did, nor had she been in a private, romantic setting as Honour had in the Canterlot Rookery's 'Well of Life' -- but she had made some moves. Moves to which he had previously been oblivious, apparently owing to them being uniquely Equestrian and not part of his peoples' repertoire, but given what Honour said he had learned, he surely must understand what she'd done by now. Even that unintentional incident with the Maypole dance should have been a fairly obvious early warning sign.

He’d seemed flattered when he was asked to join the pegasus later in a ballroom dance instead of the maypole, though he’d accepted it as a cultural activity, rather than a romantic one. Which was her original intent for both dance requests -- or at least, her original conscious intent. As attending the Gala seemed very much to be a one-time opportunity, she wanted to experience this event to its fullest, and if Huckleberry was going to stubbornly refuse to come, then Artemis was going to ask the nearest eligible stallion to join her instead.

But if Anonymous was still treating the Waltz as simply a window into Equestrian social customs, why the unplanned dip at the end? And why no reaction to her kiss, besides a smile in return?

Wasn't he curious what it meant? He'd never shied away from asking questions until now. Was this all just innocent play to him, spontaneous expressions of elation from succeeding at a task he'd been nervous about performing, or was he actually testing the waters? And if he was testing the waters, how serious was he about moving to the next step? It wasn’t as if there wasn't a lot he didn't already know about her; what more could he want to discover?

‘Hurricanes, this is confusing!’

Things hadn't been this convoluted with Huckleberry, that was for sure. Growing up together in the same village made things a lot easier. It had been a much simpler relationship, too, based not just on physical attraction but on mutual social exclusion. At school, he had been teased for his rough simplicity, and she for her size; finding comfort in each others' hooves was, in the end, only natural. And as wonderful as that natural love had been, being a heavily-teased equus non grata amongst village ponies her own age sure brought on its share of difficulties.

Anonymous might be out of his element in Equestria, but he certainly wasn't a social outcast, and Artemis, as an elite VIP bodyguard, attendee of the Grand Galloping Gala, competitor in the upcoming MXP Games' Grand Mêlée, wielder of the Anthony Theolonicus 'Bradamante Lance,' and apparently the target of recruiting efforts both by the 1st Air Division, 3rd Armored Battalion 'Valkyries' and the Princess Cadenza's Regiment of Auxiliaries 1st Battalion 'Peregrines'...

Well, Artemis was clearly no outcast, either.

Thinking about how much she’d achieved, how much she'd grown over the past few weeks since taking up VIP duties, filled her with pride. But the hesitation and confusion about how to approach things with Anonymous still lingered in the background.

Purity was right; she was moving too fast.

Why rush in? It wasn’t as if the Royal Engineer was about to be scooped up by some other mare, despite everypony joking that the Grand Galloping Gala was some kind of magic dating event. And this wasn't a race or a competition; their Very Important Pony wasn't surrounded by a ring of other challengers for his affection. The important thing -- and part of the reason Artemis had accompanied Honour on this expedition to the buffet tables -- was to make sure that she was secure in moving forwards, regardless of the pace. After all, nopony could make a successful advance while their rearguard was being threatened...

But maybe she ought to be more cautious route there, too.

Perhaps a little 'covert reconnaissance' was in order.

Artemis glanced at the corporal. "Did you and Anon talk about anything interesting while we were up at the buffet?"

Honour shrugged. "Not really. We spoke about the Gala, mostly. He was interested in the palace itself, too. Basic history lesson stuff..." She glanced off into the crowd for a moment. "... I also asked him a few questions about Leeward. Nothing worth bringing up again now."

It was really sad that she had such an awful relationship with her own father. Artemis still couldn’t quite believe it -- or that Lily's relationship was, as she claimed, even worse. Part of her really wanted to find a way to help, but she had no idea where to even start.

Besides, she supposed, it really was a problem that Honour should sort out on her own. All she could do is be there to support her, like how the others supported her after the breakup, or how the whole quaternion tried to support Honour when she’d had her flash-flood storm with Anonymous.

Come to think of it, Artemis had been so elated after her dance with the Royal Engineer, and Honour was so distracted by his conversation with her father, and then the pegasus had been summarily distracted again by the start of dinner, that she’d never found out if Honour had reconciled things with her own coltfriend!

"Did things go okay with you and your friend Sergeant Castlerook?"

With a sigh, Honour stepped forward as the line advanced and started to look over the offerings at that particular buffet table. "I suppose so. He agreed we could live somewhere other than Fillydelphia, transferring when both our contracts come up this summer, though he said he still wanted to give one last try at patching things up between me and Leeward..." Honour glanced up at Artemis as she hovered close down to present the corporal with her dinner plate. "... I'm not too thrilled about that, but given how Anonymous was able to put him in his place, maybe it's worth a shot."

‘Wow!’

Honour nodded as Artemis placed the plate on the table, at which the earth pony requested service for a few items from the kitchen attendant.

Artemis smiled at her. "It sounds like it could be wonderful, on both counts. There's no harm in letting him try to talk to your father, is there?"

After Honour’s plate received the requested delicacies, Artemis scooped it up again in her forehooves and the two of them headed over to the next table.

"Probably not. Leeward seemed to be pretty subdued at the end of that last conversation, but who knows. Either way, I really don't think anything Alex could say will change his mind one way or the other..." Honour bobbed her head sideways, her eyes widening out momentarily. "... Though I would've said the same thing about any attempt by the Royal Engineer's as well. Guess I was wrong about that one, too."

‘This sounds awfully stormy. Let's redirect those dark clouds!’

"Well, at least you're not wrong about what you picked for dinner, at least! This all looks great! Not that Their Majesties would put out any dud offerings."

Honour glanced up at what Artemis was holding. "I don't really want much more than that to start. And I hate the lineups. The food's not going anywhere; let's just head back for now. No sense in keeping everypony else at the table waiting."

She disengaged from the line, and Artemis was left feeling confused.

‘Was it something I said?’

Artemis scrutinized the corporal's face. Curiously, despite her apparent successes with both her admirer, Sergeant Castlerook, and her father, Leeward Bound, Honour was still wearing her usual frown. And as much as this was usual for her, Artemis couldn't understand why she'd be frowning now, in a place like this, at such an event, when everything was going so well!

It was so confusing that there was just nothing for it but to ask.

"Honour, is everything okay?"

She sighed, but replied immediately, as if she'd expected the question. "It sure seems to be, doesn't it? I sorted out my troubles with Castlerook; Leeward got put in his place; I'm attending the biggest event of the year, surrounded by drink and food and friends..."

A quick roll of her shoulders and a squirm of her plot showed off just how well her red dress fit.

"... and I think I'm even getting the hang of this outfit, as outrageously revealing as it might be..."

Pausing, Honour looked up at Artemis. "... So why don't I feel like everything's okay?"

The pegasus had half a mind to tell the corporal that she thought she'd been 'down' so long it must look like 'up' to her. Classic spatial disorientation, as so often happens to tired, cruising pegasi: fly through a cloud, lose visual bearings on the horizon, unintentionally enter a 'graveyard spiral,' and come out of the cloud dangerously tilted and pointing down. It was a good analogy for the situation, but given Honour's terrestrial roots, Artemis decided the wiser course would be to simply land and listen -- which she did, placing herself down on her haunches, and still holding the corporal’s dinner plate.

Honour sighed again. "I don't know; I really don't. I'm anxious; I feel like something's missing, or something's about to go wrong, but I can't put a hoof on what." Sitting down for a moment, she threw her forehooves up in the air, exasperated. “Or, buck, maybe I'm just finally losing my mind."

‘Trowal, maybe I should have spoken up about her always being down!’

This was worse than when she was kicking herself over making 'the wrong decision' at Newstirrup bridge. She was wrong to do so then, but at least she’d had an argument to make, however poor it might have been! Now she was just agonizing over her future -- a feeling which was all too familiar to Artemis, after her blow-up with Huckleberry.

"Whoa there, Honour!" Glancing around the sea of dinner tables surrounding them, Artemis spotted a free space and quickly deposited her corporal's meal there for safekeeping. Then she stepped back up and around in front of the glum, red-robed brown pony. "There's nothing crazy about feeling uncertain for the future. We all feel it now and again."

Honour sighed again, casually looking around the room. "Sure, now and again."

Looking around herself, Artemis saw happy faces, laughter, smiles, ponies having the times of their lives.

Enjoying themselves.

"You've done what you said you were going to do, and things are set the way they are for now. Worrying isn't going to change any of that. Let's just enjoy the night we have here before us, okay?"

Honour lifted her eyebrows and started shaking her head. "I want to, but I... I get in this state where right as I'm about to get what I've always desired, I pull back, like it's suddenly turned to poison." With a deep breath, she lifted a forehoof, placing its frog against her forehead. "... I did it to Castlerook. More than once, even. I wanted him, and I knew he wanted me, and I just -- I just pulled back from him, I don't know why..."

Artemis watched a tear stream down Honour’s left cheek, even as she tried to force a smile.

"... And now it's happening, and he's doing everything I wanted him to do, and I can't even feel happy about it." Closing in, Artemis held out her forehooves in support, and Honour dropped one of hers into the pegasus’ grasp.

Sparkshower thought back to all those nights she’d spent agonizing over her absentee Huckleberry. Even when things were all sorted and arranged properly, like the test visit to Canterlot a few months ago before she’d started VIP training, there was a gulf that did, at times, terrify her. Worse was when she’d written to him to set things up for another visit, and she would wait anxiously for a reply.

Artemis shook her head reassuringly. "Because he's not here with you right now. You've set something up, but it hasn't actually happened yet. You're anxious that it might not happen at all."

Sniffling, Honour tried to recompose herself. "Yeah. Yeah, I guess so. You probably understand that better than anypony else I know."

The pegasus nodded. "Uncertainty about plans was one of the worst parts of being with Huckleberry. Even before I came to Canterlot, he cancelled things an awful lot. He would get really nervous about everything, always want to call things off. Sometimes it felt like I had to force him into going places, and that wasn't very fun, either."

Honour nodded, and there, sitting in the grand hall, surrounded by jubilant party-goers enjoying the finest culinary delicacies that Equestria had to offer, the two of them shared a brief moment of interpersonal synchronicity.

She was the Huckleberry, Artemis realized, to her faithful Castlerook: hesitant to act, consumed by her own doubts and fears. And now that she had committed to being with him, she was terrified of it. Just as Artemis’ 'Puddin' had acquiesced to her VIP assignment, but been too scared to take the next steps.

She let go of Honour's forehooves and reached out to embrace her in a big hug. Friends didn't let friends feel bad like this without support. In the end, Artemis couldn't save Huckleberry, but she wouldn't let the corporal self-destruct like he did. Especially not on a magical night like tonight!

There was no resistance from the mare, so she maintained the big minotaur hug.

‘And I’ll keep maintaining it until she doesn't need it any more! 4th Armored will always hold the line!’ That was a common motivational slogan at the pegasus’ previous regiment, dating back to an old battle against the dragons.

Honour's breathing, short and pained at first, started to calm back down to a steady, if elevated, normal. Artemis heard her sigh and felt her lift a forehoof to wipe away another tear. "I need to step outside for a moment to catch my breath. You can--"

‘Can head back? Not happening!’

"Nope, I'm coming with you."

As Artemis released her, she resumed her objection. "But, Artemis, your din--"

"I can visit the buffet line again, and so can you and anypony else."

The brown earth pony paused, before acquiescing. "Yeah, okay..." She nodded towards the nearest set of doors. "... Come on, over there."

The pegasus followed behind her on all fours, pushing open a double set of arched Prench doors which opened to a small, basement-level, stone-paved landing and, on the left, a set of stairs leading up to the main grounds. Honour didn’t hesitate to trot right over, and Artemis followed in turn, until they found themselves on one side of the palace's grand entrance courtyard.

It was where the early-arrival guests had been entertained earlier, which Artemis and the rest of the quaternion had observed from that balcony in the west wing's south annex. There were still a few refreshment stations here, and a few party-goers, but most of the crowd had clearly moved inside the palace, and the extensive gardens 'behind' the main building.

The brown corporal came to a rest only once she'd firmly planted all four hooves on the courtyard's trimmed grass, rather than the walkway paving stones or gravel driveway. That's when Artemis noticed her actually start to relax, coming down from the emotional state she'd been in. She watched as her hooves seemed to sink deeper into the short green foliage.

A magical connection with the ground was said to be the source of the extraordinary endurance of earth ponies, and there were many who believed that direct physical contact with soil was a way to replenish that reserve of strength. Some of those same ponies also believed that an earth pony protractedly denied any opportunity to touch hooves with natural, living earth would lose their strength and wither. Sort of like a pegasus' wings atrophying if denied the opportunity to fly, Artemis supposed. Standing on all fours with her eyes closed and ears flattened back, Honour didn't seem to so much as breathe the crisp spring air as she seemed to absorb it.

Artemis joined her on the grass. Pegasi like her might not have any particularly deep connection to the land like their four-limbed kin, but she sure preferred the touch of grass to just about anything else. Not to mention, if given a choice of surfaces onto which to crash-land… Well, grass was one of the obvious 'good' choices -- and the taller and thicker, the better!

Taking a deep breath, Honour opened her eyes, lifting her ears back up. "Sorry. I got a little worked up in there."

Artemis shook her head. "It's alright. I understand."

Honour nodded. "Yeah, you do."

She closed her eyes and took another deep breath. After blowing it out slowly, she opened them up again. After that, she just stood there, looking slightly up towards the sky.

‘Well, since I’m out here, I might as well join her in her silent meditation.’

Artemis was committed to helping her; it's not as if she was going to leave until Honour was ready to go back.

There was a burst of raucous laughter closer to the main entrance doors, but the pegasus resisted the automatic impulse to turn towards the source of the noise. Instead, she just looked up at the stars.

It was a clear night out; cool and fresh. A great night for flying, especially with the moon waxing gibbous and high in the sky, draping the world in silver light.

There was another loud blast of laughter from over by the entrance, harsh and throaty, and accompanied by boos in reply -- but Artemis shut it out, just as she did with the first outburst.

Something was making the stars particularly pretty tonight. The pegasus didn't think she’d seen them this spectacular since Her Majesty Princess Luna visited the Royal Engineer. And she wasn’t even sure if she’d actually been gazing at the real sky then, or if it was all part of some hypnotic magical illusion. A moment of stellar transcendence in the presence of the Princess of the Moon.

‘Strange.’

Simply thinking of that moment seemed to fill Artemis with a sense of calm and purpose, the same as she’d felt in the actual moment.

Her thoughts turned to the other stately figure who'd been present in the room. He hadn't made the stars rain from the sky like snowflakes, and she didn't remember him glowing brightly as she did the other ponies in the room, but with his calm, attentive demeanour, Anonymous stood out in his own way. Like a quick low-pressure front that comes in to break up an intense heatwave.

There was just one lingering question in Artemis’ mind...

And only one pony who could answer it.

‘You can do this.’

"Honour, do you-"
"Artemis, I want-"

‘Oh, trowal!’

The two of them had started speaking at the same time, but Honour recovered more quickly. "... Sorry, go ahead."

Artemis shook her head. "No, I insist."

Tipping her head down and pawing the ground with a forehoof, Honour swallowed. "I wanted to say, if you're thinking again of going after the Royal Engineer, take it slow, okay? And keep things simple to start..." Then she lifted herself back up and looked Artemis in the eyes. "... A peck on the cheek, bringing him his dinner plate, that sort of low-key stuff is alright. Ask him to the dance floor tonight, though I think he'll ask you first -- probably each of us, actually, if we're not otherwise occupied. I think he regrets not dancing when we were out on Tuesday, and that he doesn't intend to make the same mistake twice..."

Well, that warm front certainly blew away all of Artemis’ storm clouds.

Honour scrunched up her muzzle a bit. "... But even if things go well tonight, remember that he's not from here; he's used to looking at things in a different way than us. It'll take time to establish a relationship. If that happens, and if we're still his bodyguards, I'll rein in Lily if she sees what's happening and starts laying into you; Purity too, though I imagine she'll have more discretion..." Taking a deep breath, she finally lifted her other hooves as she turned her body towards Artemis -- and the stairs back down into the dining hall. "... But don't let anypony push things too fast -- and that includes him too, okay? It'll be for your own good, and his. I don't want to see either of you get hurt, especially not when we all have to work together. That means avoiding rash moves and hasty decisions. You understand?"

Artemis nodded, remembering Kilfeather's assertion that good-looking single ponies wake up to find themselves coupled in the morning. "I understand. And I'll take it slow. That's actually what I was going to ask you."

Honour snorted. "Yeah, I figured. I may have my troubles, but I'm not blind."

Smiling, the pegasus stepped forward and spread her forehooves for another embrace. The earth pony opened hers in turn and they hugged each other, briefly. Once they both let go, Honour sniffed and shook her head. "...Thanks, I needed that -- the trip outside, and the pep talk earlier... and even the hugs."

Artemis beamed. "It's my pleasure!"

That's when she heard an echoing shout from over by the main entrance. "It'll be me pleasure to rearrange yer face, ye scurvy scalawag!"

She turned to look, and just as she parsed the basic arrangement of the scene -- almost thirty sailors, divided in two boisterous groups, grinning and rearing up on their hind hooves at each other -- her view was interrupted as five billowing dark shadows crashed down on the throng of quarrelsome ponies.

Standing atop a suddenly-flattened would-be brawler, one of the black-cloaked meteorites threw back his hood to reveal a Night Guard helmet -- with a dark head and two yellow slit eyes beneath its armoured brow. "In the name ob the Prrrincess ob the Moon, jou are all under arrrrest for disturrbing Her peace. Do not rrresist!"

Shocked by the sudden arrival, the two groups seemed momentarily unable to react.

Beside the pegasus, Honour had noticed the disturbance as well. "Looks like trouble."

A couple of stragglers at the outer edges of the group scurried off, bolting for the palace, but the bulk of the two apparently rival crews stayed put, turning away from facing each other, and towards the newcomers. One of them, near the front, reached into his vest and pulled out a flask, quickly uncorking it and taking a swig, before tossing it to the next pony behind him, who dutifully swallowed a draught of his own, passing it on in turn.

"Oh yeah? Well, despite our rivalry, we's all of us loyal merchantpones of Her Majesty Princess Celestia, the Princess of the Sun, and we don't none of us take orders from murderin' blackguard bat ponies what worship the dark night." Cracking his forehooves into each other, he took a determined step towards the Night Guard soldier, followed soon after by another sailor, and then another, then another.

Artemis gasped. "Trouble? Make it double!"

In response to the menacing advance, the five Night Guard all reared back and kicked out their forehooves. With a familiar snicker-snack that was audible even at this distance, she saw they all suddenly had shining steel blades protruding from their forelegs.

‘Oh, hurricanes!’

Almost immediately in response, she saw three horns start to glow, a half-dozen pairs of feathered wings extending, and a number of hooves holding glass tumblers smashing their glassware to make deadly, jagged weapons. A few of the sailors even reached back to their flanks, drawing knives of their own from beneath their belts or breeches.

‘Thundering tornadoes!’

‘Weren't those ponies searched for weapons before being admitted to the palace grounds?!’

Without waiting for the next escalation, Honour launched into a gallop. "Come on! We'd better intervene, or somepony might wind up dead!"

Artemis didn't need to be told twice, and flapped her wings to blast off right after the corporal.

Except...

Two unarmored guarsdponies wearing gala fineries against a gang of thuggish sailors and five batpony 'Swarming Meteors'? What exactly were the two of them going to be able to accomplish without any of their weapons?

As Artemis barreled down on the group of armed ponies, she gulped. Then she grit her teeth and followed her corporal's lead. The 4th Armoured Regiment's motto was 'Prepared and Loyal'; she might not be prepared, but she sure would be loyal! Despite Honour's frequent misgivings, she'd proven that when push comes to shove, she knew what to do.

So, beware, miscreants! The Royal Engineer's Very Important Pony escort quaternion is here -- or part of it, anyways!

Chapter 141

Honour Bound

Honour Bound was a mere corporal in the Royal Guard, and in just a few moments, she was going to find out if she could summon up enough command authority to get a squad of Night Guard and a pack of sailors to both stand down before somepony got seriously hurt.

Galloping along next to her, Specialist Artemis Sparkshower turned to speak. "This doesn't make sense! When we met Carmen earlier, she told us the Swarming Meteors were suspended from Night Guard duty because of what Marcos did! Why are they here now??"

Honour was no expert in batpony 'Star-phase' temples, but she could spot the same attack when it was used twice. Either some other school had exactly the same swoop-clobbering tactic and hoof-blades as the Meteors, or Reverend Mother Superior Carmen Ebonshield wasn’t trustworthy.

And she knew where she’d place her bet.

‘Okay, Honour. You just have to get in there, use your best "I am in charge here!" voice, and nopony will notice you're in a cocktail dress and completely unarmed and unarmored.’

At the very least, she ought to be able to cause enough disruption to delay the impending violence.

But before she could even reach the starting point, a brilliant silver pegasus colt in Royal Guard armor fluttered down in front of the Swarming Meteors. "What's the meaning of this? Who gave you permission to charge and draw weapons, Sergeant? And you, there, you ruffians -- how dare you raise your hooves against the Guard? Back away this instant!"

His uniform had the single epaulette of Lieutenant Junior Grade, but more interestingly, on his right foreleg Honour saw a familiar black band with the letters 'R.U.C.' sewn into it with white thread.

R.U.C.: Royal Undermountain Constabulary.

From his angle of entry, the officer must have been patrolling with the batponies -- which meant that the Night Guard were on station at the Gala, but they were being supervised. As Honour arrived at the scene, she noted that the sailors hadn't backed away, though they did at least cease their advance. The officer, however, seemed much more concerned with the behavior of the batponies. "Well, Sergeant? I want an explanation!"

For his part, the batpony 'sergeant' kept his eyes on the drunk belligerents. "Teniente Naranja, dese ponies werrre yust about to-"

The argent R.U.C. Lieutenant got right up in his dusky sergeant's muzzle. "That is not an excuse! You forget that you are under strict orders, Sergeant! You are not permitted to take action without consulting with your superior officer first!" Pointing down at the crumpled sailor beneath the batpony's hooves, he continued, "Did you do so prior to assaulting these guests, Sergeant?"

The batpony scrunched up his muzzle for a moment before answering. "No, mi Teniente."

Vindicated, the Lieutenant turned his nose up at the batpony, then turned on his heels to face the ornery sailors. "Sheathe your weapons and back away, Sergeant. I will take care of this."

He didn’t audibly grumble, but Honour could see the frustration written on the sergeant's face as he nodded to his four comrades. They all backed off of and away from their victims, before pausing to re-holster their spring-loaded hoof-blades.

Now the crowd's attention was on the officer. "Disgraceful! You sailors were invited here to celebrate the anniversary of the Merchant Marine, and what do you do? Draw weapons on the Guard, after nearly coming to blows -- and for what, some trivial argument over whose ship is the fastest? I'll have you all thrown in the donjon for this nonsense!"

For a junior officer, he certainly had the right attitude of command, and the ponies before him did deserve a dressing-down -- but Honour wasn’t sure that ragging on their argument as 'nonsense' or 'trivial' was going to help.

Sure enough, his final statement elicited several grumbles and jeers from the crowd.

"Trivial?"

"Nonsense?!"

Honour even saw a few forehooves go up -- with the opposing one placed in the crook of the elbow.

"Buck you, peeler!"

"Get lost, butter-bar!"

"Buzz off, Jack Law!"

That just set the officer off even more. "How dare you! I am an officer of the Royal Guard, and you are guests here in Her Majesty's palace. You will respect my authority and disperse this instant! Disperse, I say!"

His Canterlot-accented cries fell flat as the brigands started to advance on him once more. "Come on, lads, we'll give this stuffed hat what 'e deserves, then we'll have at the bloody bats!"

Suddenly aware of his peril, the Lieutenant took one step back -- which just served to open the floodgates. A moment later, he panicked, bolting to take cover behind the five Night Guard soldiers he’d just disarmed and dressed down. "Sergeant, draw weapons and prepare to engage!"

Before he could even finish barking out the order, the batponies had already readied themselves for a fight once more. The crowd surged forward, more energetically than when they were faced with the Night Guard alone.

It seemed Honour was going to have to clean up the L-T's mess after all.

‘Time for a different strategy.’

With Sparkshower at her side, Honour just barely intruded in between the two groups before summoning up the salty bellow of a Fillydelphia dockside mare. "Anyhow, everypony knows that the Tambermane is the fastest clipper ship on the Four Seas..."

That got her a few glances.

‘Seems like I’m on the right track.’

"...Anypony who thinks otherwise must be a fool or a moron, and clearly needs the sense knocked into them, or maybe their teeth knocked out!"

And now she had their attention. The advance on the batponies and the embattled Lieutenant came to a halting stop once more.

"...Isn't that right, Artemis?"

Honour just hoped Sparkshower understood the situation enough to play along -- and that she could dig down and find some source of coarse churlishness.

"Uh-Yes! That's right!” The pegasus started. “Why, I can't imagine the kind of toothless, er, scurvy-hoofed, uh, freshwater marine who would even consider any other ship for supremacy."

‘Good mare.’

The sailor leading the slow charge -- a big earth-pony colt dressed in white slops with a blue jacket and a black bowler cap -- came to a halt and faced the intruding corporal. "What've we got over here? A couple of loud-mouthed mares looking to leave the Gala with shiners?"

‘Time to go 'full Fillydelphia.'’

The earth pony mare lifted an eyebrow and sneered as she looked him up and down. "As if you could touch me. I've seen better stallions slurping sausage and taking it between the buns behind quayside bars off Front Street."

A few jeers and guffaws called out from behind him as the sailor-colt's ears started to boil. "You're all talk, little filly. Go on and scram."

Honour slapped one forehoof against her flank, lifting her upper lip to crudely show her teeth. "Make me. You wouldn't last two minutes on the Fillydelphia docks. What garbage-scow do you even serve on, anyways?"

Snorting out his nostrils, the big stallion clopped a forehoof into his chest. "The Antelope, out of Baltimare, and she's no damn scow."

She snorted right back at him as she lied through her teeth. "Sure, she's no scow, but she sure needs one to haul her off. I've seen the Antelope down at the docks; she's a sickening sight, with her sails in rags and listing to port. I hear your cook spends his days in the scuppers with the staggers and jags, too."

Accompanied by boos from some of the ponies behind him, the sailor shook his head. "You've got a nasty tongue, filly. Someone ought to slap it clean out of your muzzle."

‘Now, to show him I really am serious about spoiling for a fight.’

After all, it was better for the two of them to duke it out with fistihooves than the Swarming Meteors get involved with their daggers. With any luck, beating up just one or two of them would disperse the crowd. This wouldn't be her first boxing match with a mariner anyways -- just the first one since she’d left Filly'. Hiking her skirt, she reared back on her hind hooves and defiantly raised up her forehooves. "Please. There's no way a barge as broad and fat and loose in stays like you will ever hit me."

Though scowling at the latest insult, the colt still hesitated to commit against her, so Honour got back down on all fours and lowered her head down, scraping a hind hoof against the ground as if she were readying for a charge. "Come on, bilge rat! Don't tell me you're afraid to hit a mare. That's the only way an ugly picaroon like you could ever get one to stick around long enough for you to wet your whistle, anyhow."

That final put-down pushed him over the edge, and with the jostling, ornery crowd at his back furiously egging him on, he turned his body fully towards her. "Well, we were gonna teach that meddling officer and his scum batponies a lesson, but I guess we've got room for a little appetizer first. All right, foul-mouthed filly, let's dance!"

The corporal spared a quick glance to make sure that the Swarming Meteors and their supervising R.U.C. officer were staying back and that the crowd's focus was on her, before turning her gaze back to her opponent. He was so confident he'd end her with just one blow that the muscled stallion simply reared back and stepped forward on his hind hooves, swinging wide.

Suggested background music: Yugo Kanno - "Il Vento D'Oro", from "JoJo's Bizarre Adventure: Golden Wind" [2018]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U0TXIXTzJEY

Transported back to her youthful days brawling in the dockside alleys, time seemed to slow down as Honour was filled with a serendipitous confidence. The turbulent sea of confusing possibilities of what might happen in the future -- with Castlerook, Leeward, Anonymous, Fillydelphia, and more -- collapsed into the straight and narrow river of the immediacy of the here and now. And that path was so predictable, so constrained, and so familiar that she completely let go of her worries and turned all of her attention to the present:

Unarmed combat between maritime earth ponies.

With her newfound focus, what was just a sloppy, easily-avoided attack turned into a clownish pantomime of a sloth's movement. She didn't even have to think to dodge; she’d already ducked.

‘And now that he's left himself open, how to riposte?’

Certainly, she could try for a fast knock-out as he had. A solid hoof to his chin, probably followed by a second, might be enough to get him flat on his back, if he's got a glass jaw. But Honour knew from experience that a quick end would neither impress nor rattle the crowd as well as a proper, longer brawl. She needed something with some meat to it, so that her fight with their fellow stallion satisfied their own blood-lust, even if their champion lost.

‘Let him take the heavy swings, then, and I’ll start with a few body blows to soften him up.’

As she established her strategy, she could almost see the steps before they came: duck the clumsy haymaker, step back to draw the fighter further away from the crowd. Although she was putting on a show for the other sailors, it was still important to try to minimize any interference. She needed to keep them as spectators to this petty mêlée, not participants, if she wanted to actually win.

The sailor's forehoof passed well above and in front of her head, and she lined up the next motion. Aware that she’d moved back, but not yet cognizant that she was too fast for this, he took a heavy step forward and swung wide with the other hoof. Already a bit tilted from the first wild swipe, his second attack was more of a proper hook, but still puts him dangerously off-balance.

Honour lifted her head up to avoid the low-aimed blow and prepared to strike. As the mariner's hoof sailed beneath her chin, she launched forward on her hind hooves, thrusting one forehoof out until it connected with his shoulder.

‘Celestia, he's solid!’

That first forehoof found nothing but thickly-corded muscle and bone, so she launched the other one lower, at his ribs. The second connection had the impact she wanted, and the colt cringed even as he lurched. From his careless strikes as well as her own hit, he was forced to get back down on all fours, or else topple over sideways onto the ground.

That's when he was most vulnerable, and she took full advantage, planting her own forehooves in the grass and pivoting around on them for a quick double-hind-kick. It was impossible to conceal such a big motion, but all he could do when he spotted her red dress flying out at him was curl his flank and try to lurch away from her. It was enough to lessen the blows, but not enough to avoid them, and she could see his cheeks puff up as her kidney-shots knocked the wind out of him.

Having completed the attack, now it was Honour who was vulnerable, with her flanks exposed.

He reared up again on his hind hooves, but having wised up to the mare’s speed, he settled for a left-hoof jab. She was certain a left-hoof cross was going to follow, so to mix things up, she tensed and leaned into the first blow.

It worked: he was so surprised when his first forehoof ricocheted off in an unexpected manner that it spoiled the follow-up, sending his hoof wild. That created another opening, and for more, this time.

Starting with a single hind kick for good measure, she spun around again and drove her head forward, butting into the back of his flank. The impact sent pain shuddering down her neck through her skull, but she mostly caught him in the soft spot past his ribcage, and more importantly, her effort actually knocked him off his hooves.

Struggling in the air, he flailed down with his forehooves as she pushed through to ensure the toppled, but her own hooves came up faster, seizing his torso and torquing him sideways. Now, instead of landing on his side, he slammed right down on his back, knocking his head shortly after. He was flat on the ground now, so she leapt on top to pound, knocking a gaskin into his groin as she crashed her forehooves down into his neck and face.

With instincts that made it clear he was no tenderhoof, he brought his own limbs up to shield those vulnerable areas, all while trying to buck her off. Honour continued to hammer away, trying to break past or get around his guard, but she just didn’t have the reach, and eventually he managed to shove hard enough that she was kicked over, rolling onto her four hooves.

Furious at having been knocked around this way, he snarled out as he rolled over and got back up, a streak of blood trickling down from his mouth. "Damned whorse!"

Honour smirked.

‘Them's fightin' words.’

"You're in for a wreckin', jawn."

With a shake of his head, he re-cocked his shoulders and squared up against her. His head might still be full of tipple, but at last now he was showing her that he actually had some fighting chops.

‘Good, that'll make for a better show.’

As the two of them circled around, sizing the other up, Honour was momentarily brought back to real-time, just enough to hear the crowd's cheers and jeers.

"Come on, get 'er, Flass!"

"Clobber that whorse!"

"Keep your hooves up!"

Even better; the more they got into it as spectators, the more likely they would be to feel spent if he lost. She just had to make sure to achieve that ending.

Artemis was watching observantly from the sidelines, her eyes darting between Honour, her opponent, the crowd, and even the group of batponies -- who so far hadn't budged an inch. Even the lieutenant seemed to be caught up in the duel.

‘Back to it, then -- and this time, I’ll start the offensive.’

Surging forward, Honour gritted her teeth and watched the stallion's eyes go wide as she launched a top-hoofed uppercut at his chin. Turning his head, he narrowly avoided it, only to catch her cross in the neck. He cringed from the pain, but it wasn’t so much that he couldn't react, and he squatted down almost onto his haunches to lift his own forehooves for a reply.

Which might’ve worked, if she hadn't already swung her back around to start kicking him in the side. A heavy hoof glanced off her withers as she spun, and a moment later she was once again burying keratin just past his ribs. But she couldn’t connect with some solid hip-bone this time, which screwed her recovery enough that she couldn't risk a follow-up.

Recognizing his mistake in sitting down, 'Flass' stood up again and rushed forward, lifting his forehooves wide at the last moment.

‘He's going to try to grab me and wrestle me down; can't have that.’

Honour’s head still hurt from the last time, but she tuned it out and pushed herself to go low, hurtling forward into his attempt at a grapple. As his forelegs seized her barrel, her skull slammed against the base of his rib-cage.

The momentum-transfer stopped Honour in her tracks, but she managed to keep her neck straight enough to remain planted. While he scrabbled to get hold of her, she thrust her neck up, making the big sailor grunt, "Urgh!"

Honour was able to lift him into the air, but she could feel her strength failing -- she couldn't get him over this way, so she tilted her head to send him sideways. With all four of his limbs flailing in the air, the maneuver just barely worked, and he flopped over onto his flank.

Turning to land the easy hits, she got a couple of forehooves in on the same hind spot she’d been working so far this fight, but then she felt a jolt of pain in her head and had to withdraw.

‘Buck, did I actually crack my skull against him?’

She blinked, and her vision briefly went blurry.

Another blink, and she was seeing straight again.

Still on his side, he was lethargically trying to get back up. The corporal didn’t have the same volume of liquid courage in her that he had, which had been to her advantage so far, but if the alcohol's numbing effect kept him from going down, that'd be a real problem.

That's when disaster struck.

"Aw, stinkin' whorse, what a dirty move. I'll get her for ya, Flass!"

One of the eager audience members -- thankfully, not one of the armed ones -- hustled in from behind, aiming to grab her. And when one came, another might follow, and another...

She barely had time to feel panic at the thought of being ganged up on by more foes, when a pink-and-yellow blur went streaking over her shoulder.

"DYNAMIC ENTRY!"

The outstretched hind hooves of a spiralling Artemis Sparkshower crashed into the interloper's muzzle, and she beat her outstretched wings once to come to a magnificent, skidding landing on all fours, even as her victim went tumbling back head-over-hooves, rolling through gaps in the crowd like a stray cannon ball.

Instantly, Honour’s pegasus savior spread her wings wide and reared up on her hind hooves, menacing the crowd, "Epona-a-buaidh! Sow the wind, and reap the Whirlwind!"

‘Good mare.’

‘Really good mare.’

‘But maybe tone it down, lest you goad more of them into attacking.’

But once again, Honour had problems of her own: Flass was back on his hooves. He looked steady, but as the two of them faced each other once more, something about him seemed different. It was hard to put a hoof on it. On a whim, Honour stood up straight, effectively lowering her guard, goading him to attack. Watching her do it, he didn’t seem to know how to react.

No, that wasn’t it: he knew how he wanted to react -- but he hesitated; he was finally feeling intimidated.

Good!

With the way her head was hurting, and having already attracted one ringer, it was past time the corporal ended this fight. She couldn’t bait any more clumsy attacks out of him, but she could take advantage of his hesitation. Kicking up her heels, she charged.

He had the sense to rear up and throw out a jab to force her away in response, but he failed to put his full power into it. Honour weathered the limp blow against her muzzle even as she reared back herself.

He tried to turn away, thrusting out his cross hoof in another keepaway attempt, yet once again it was just hoof and foreleg that connected, lacking the real power provided by the twisting shoulder, barrel, waist, and hips.

The impact of that lame hoof against her muzzle hadn’t fazed the mare in the slightest and now, having pushed through his ineffective guard, she was ready to unleash her own assault. Pivoting on her hind hooves, Honour wailed against Flass with hook after hook, slamming alternating forehooves into his head, battering it back and forth like a punching speed bag. "Oorah! Oorah! Oorah!"

Honour hadn’t shouted the battle cry of the 186th Fillydelphia Volunteers since she was fresh out of 'shoe camp, but somehow it just came out naturally as she pummeled her opponent into submission. "...One-Eight-Six, Fillydelphia Volunteers! Oorah!"

A final hammer-blow, summoned up with all of her power, sent Flass crumpling down to the ground before her, landing on his rear with the rest of him flopping limply out afterwards. Huffing and puffing through her nostrils, Honour paused momentarily, still on her hind hooves, looking down to make sure he was down for the count.

But when it became clear he was out cold, she finally let herself get back down on all fours.

‘Sweet Celestia of Equestria, I have a splitting headache.’

The corporal needed a drink -- but there was something else she needed to deal with first. Turning to face the other sailors, she saw sad, disheartened faces.

‘Perfect.’

"Ahoy, you lot! Haul your damned bilge-scum the buck out of here before any more peelers show up! Sharply, now!" Exchanging glances, they didn’t have to be told twice, and a few of them hustled forwards to pick up their fallen champion.

Sparkshower joined Honour at her side as the corporal started towards the batponies, who were still posed in front of five clobbered sailors. "Let them go! They won't cause any more trouble, right?" That last question was directed back at the former belligerents, who nodded and meekly muttered affirmatives in response.

As if on cue, the Lieutenant stepped out from behind his protective wall of soldiers. "Ahem, excuse me, but I am in command here, and I will decide-"

Honour had seen his kind before. "Lieutenant, you can either let these five go, or you can deal with fighting the rest of that mob -- again."

The junior officer fell silent, but his batpony sergeant lifted an eyebrow. "Ay am not afrrraid of such a fight."

She retorted by pointing an angry forehoof at his still-extended hoof-blade. "You should be. That's a tool for killing; you think your Great Mother wants deaths at the biggest party of the year? And for what, instigating a brawl amongst themselves? That's not Equestrian justice, it's a slaughter."

The use of the batpony term for Princess Luna immediately elicited the full and undivided attention of all five batponies. After a moment's consideration, the sergeant nodded to his soldiers, and all five backed further away from their knocked out prey.

Even as more glum sailors came to haul fallen comrades back inside -- and probably to the nearest drinks table, for recuperative tonics -- the Lieutenant started to sputter out protestations. "But... At least we should, uh, an arrest, er, we can't just-"

Honour ignored him and stepped up to the batpony leader. "Now answer another thing for me, 'Sergeant.' Why are Swarming Meteors on duty tonight? The Reverend Mother Superior said you were all on suspension, after what Marcos pulled."

The blathering lieutenant's jaw dropped open wide, but the Meteor sergeant just lifted the other eyebrow. He looked Honour and Artemis over. "Jou... Jou arrre two of the ones he attack-ed. The Caporal Bound, and the Specialisto Sparkshower. La tierra y la pegaso..." Tilting his head back, he started to nod. "Now jour actions makes the sense. Jou know how we fight, so jou interbeened to stop us from killing, jes?"

When the gears finally ticked into place, he stepped forward right towards Honour, coming muzzle-to-muzzle with the earth pony. The batpony Star-phase act of respect: opening himself up to a possible head-butt if she were offended.

"...We Meteors have indeed been shamed by the actions of our Sixth, and rrremoved from the duties rrregular. But, this Gala, she ees exceptional. Therre would not be enough Stars to monitor the skies without us. So, a few grroups such as mine habe been allow-ed."

That explained things, she supposed. If the Royal Guard was on heightened alert for some unspecified threat to the Gala, then it made sense they'd have redoubled the Night Guard patrols as well -- even if the biggest threat to the Gala was quite possibly the Night Guard itself.

Softening his expression, the sergeant glanced up at her brow. "Eef jour eentention was to aboid the bloodshed, Caporal Bound, ay must tell jou, unfortunately, that you have fail-ed."

Withdrawing from the tête-a-tête, she lifted a hoof to her forehead. Sure enough, there was a splotch of blood on the hoof when she lowered it back down. She probably didn't actually crack open her skull against that bull of a sailor, though she clearly broke skin.

Artemis stared at the injured spot. "It's just a small patch, Honour. You should get it looked at, but I don't think it's bleeding quickly, if it's even still open at all."

‘Well, at least the blood'll go with my red dress.’

The batpony sergeant nodded at the corporal. "Jou fight with the great conbiction. Ay see now how Marcos was defeated so easily. Ay am a Fifth of Meteors, Luis Reynauldo. Jou should know, por cierto, that for his crrimes our Sixth has accepted the libertad condicional, the probation, in the serbice of las Lunares. This is an arrangement most unusual; normally, we would habe taken him and meted out the justice ourselbes within our temple, as we did with his conspirradores, but he rrefused."

While interesting, she really didn’t see the relevance. "So?"

Luis shrugged. "Ay tell jou this simply as a courrtesy. Jou habe earned my rrespect; jou should know that the one who sought jour death is free, and no longer underr the control of our temple. For now, eet ees as eef he had join-ed the Lunars."

Then he smiled. "Eef jour group will again enterr the rookery for trraining in the Grand Hall, have a message sent to me. Eet would be worth being awoken een the middle of the day to watch you again, and ay will bring others. Besides, we owe jou at least this courtesy as well."

Honour did remember how every other batpony Star exited the training chamber after their group showed up. Purity had said that was down to antipathy against her, more than against Equestrians like Honour, Artemis, or Lily. It seemed like they were making some positive waves; maybe Luna's mission to the Royal Engineer wasn't so crazy after all.

"It's not up to me, but sure."

Luis Reynauldo, Fifth of Meteors, gave her a quick bow, then, replacing his black hood over his head, before turning to his commanding officer. "Excellenté! May we have now the permiso to rresume our patrrol, teniente?"

The flabbergasted Lieutenant took a few moments to pull himself together. "Uh... Er... Right, sergeant, move out! Sheath weapons and resume DRAGCAP at one hundred hooves."

Acting in utter silence, the five batponies took to the air, as the armored pegasus officer clattered up after them.

For a moment, Honour watched them go, before turning to Sparkshower, who looked at her worryingly. "Are you sure you're alright, Honour? You took some awful-looking hits to your head."

She smiled. "Artemis, honey, for the first time in a while, I think I actually feel good..."

It was true. Maybe it was just a rebound from her breakdown, but she really did feel a lot better after bashing that colt's head in. Grinning broadly, she sidled up beside the pegasus and was about to hook a foreleg over her back, when Honour remembered that she’d probably got blood on those, too. So Honour just nodded at her instead.

"...Now come on, let's get to the little fillies' room so I can clean up."

Chapter 142

Lily Glamerspear

‘I can't catch a break tonight.’

No sooner had Lily Glamerspear’s group arrived at the Gala than they were accosted by Honour's hilariously overenthusiastic father. And no sooner had he left than they’d all had to flee outside, skipping Their Majesties' receiving line, to avoid a repeat.

Then Honour had split off, and that was the first departure from their Gala squad. Later, just when things were getting spicy from ribbing their Very Important Pony (who wasn't actually a pony) about his tastes in actual female ponies, Eb's mother had shown up to spoil the festive mood.

The next departure came when Artemis and Anonymous peeled off as a two-pone fireteam to prepare for the Lipizzaner dance. That had actually been a good enough show, Lily supposed, and she had to admit to some mischievously smug satisfaction at the little eavesdropping job she’d pulled afterwards. But when their crew was finally gathered back together, and when she’d gotten her hooves on some grub, and when she was really, actually starting to enjoy herself and settle into party mode, Purity had pointed out that Artemis and Honour seemed to have disappeared from the buffet line.

With cheeks bulging with a mouthful of delicious 'Foin Cordon Bleu,' Lily had looked up and around incredulously. But as far as either the unicorn or the Royal Engineer could see, she was right -- they were gone. With Leeward Bound and Carmen Ebonshield both roving around the Gala -- along with who knows who else -- their disappearance was concerning. Enough so for the sergeant to suggest that they should go looking for them, and everyone had agreed. They quickly came up with a plan: Lily and Ebonshield would search the area, while Anonymous stayed back at the table to hold their seats and to await the missing members of their crew in case they returned on their own.

Lily had felt a bit gung-ho, eager to save her comrades from certain peril.

Some of that was definitely the rum punch talking.

Having scoured the buffet line as well as the immediate dining room, yet coming up empty-hooved -- and Artemis was not a small pony, plus Purity could perform recon from height -- Lily was starting to wish she hadn't gotten up from the dinner table at all. Yeah, maybe their missing two comrades were in 'certain peril' and she’d be able to ride in with her fellow quaternion members to turn the tables on whoever had waylaid them.

Or, y'know, maybe they'd just gone to hit up the little fillies' room.

Purity apparently had the same thought, landing next to Lily after she’d finished a quick flap-through of the dining hall annex. "I wonder if perhaps they have gone to the lavatory? I could check."

Lily nodded. "Sure, I mean, I dunno where else they would've gone. There's guards at the doors, it's not like they got clubbed over the head and abducted in sacks." The aforementioned scenario played out in Lily’s head, and she furrowed her brow. "...Plus, I don't think either of 'em would even go down in one hit. So if there really was a scuffle, there'd have been a real commotion."

Eb shrugged. "I agree, of course. Although, I note that the Lunars have many subtle means available to them. Still, I hope that no calamity has befallen our comrades."

Lily pointed a hoof in the direction of the nearest servant -- a bus-colt with a white apron hastily clearing a dining table to make it ready for the next set of guests who might want to sit down. "Yeah. I got no idea where the restrooms are around here, so you'd better ask somepony like him. For myself, I'll trot around one more time for good measure and see you back at the table. Hopefully one of us finds 'em, or we'll find them waiting for us there with Anon."

With a reassuring smile, but her eyes curiously already focused on her destination, the batpony trotted off towards the bus-colt.

The very young, fairly handsome bus-colt. And was Eb deliberately swaying her hips by putting one hoof directly in front of the other?

‘Hoo, foal.’

Hopefully she’d remember to actually ask where the washrooms are, instead of just hitting on the young palace servant.

Lily left her middle-aged, colt-slaying, cradle-robbing, libertine, master-of-assassins quaternion-mate to do her thing and turn back towards the buffet and main dining hall.

‘They have to be in here somewhere.’

Squinting, the unicorn scanned the crowds. Even though she was wearing an exquisite Louis Valise dress, part of her wished she had her highly unfashionable, but very useful, Martingale-Locksteed Mark III Air Defense Assisted Targeting helmet on. With the ceiling of this room being two floors tall, and with upper storey viewing balconies all around, the Mk. 3 ADAT's zoom lens would really come in handy in a situation like this. Even if it didn't go at all with her LV dress, or her hoofbag, or her mane-do, or her horseshoes.

...Eh, that last one, actually...

Lily did suppose that some actual military equipment might go well with 'Gladiator' style sandals.

‘Ancient soldiers wore something like these, didn't they?’

As Lily absent-mindedly looked around, a group of swarthy-looking nautical stallions came swaggering by. More than a few of them spared a glance and approving smile in her direction, and she couldn’t help but smirk and wink back. "Hello, sailors."

It came out as barely anything but a whisper, but, ‘buck, mare what are you doing?!’

After everything that went wrong with Mailedhoof, rolling in the hay with some merchant mariner was definitely not what Lily needed right now.

‘Although…’

One of the few unicorn colts in the pack swished his tail in her direction, before tossing back his mane.

‘Mmf.’

She could see from the trace of blue light from his horn that he was helping to telekinetically carry a passed-out comrade amongst his own.

A case of too much rum, probably.

Unlike a ship's grog ration, the liquor dispensaries of Their Majesties' Palace of Canterlot did not water down the drinks.

‘But that stallion helping cart off the drunk though…’

‘Mmmm-mmm, yeah.’

She could definitely watch that well groomed tail go flappity-flap while the firm hindquarters it was attached to went slappity-sl--

"Good evening, Specialist Glamerspear."

‘Buck!’

Caught 'mirin, Lily went stiff as a board when she heard Montgomery Mailedhoof's baritone voice speaking almost straight into her ear. Ponies she did not expect to run into during the Gala included Honour's dad, Carmen Ebonshield -- well, any batpony other than Purity, really -- and one Royal Guard Captain Montgomery Mailedhoof. Wasn't his family supposed to be here with him? As public as he'd been with her in his professional entourage, there's no way he'd cross the line of rubbing his wife's muzzle in his infidelity.

Lily quickly glanced around nervously, only to find he was all alone, in a well-fitted, three-piece black frock coat with matching pants, a grey vest, and a rakishly-tied cravat. Despite him being solo, she figured she'd better start by playing innocent -- and by pretending that she was still his saltine, despite the impending termination of that soured-beyond-repair relationship.

"Good evening, Captain Mailedhoof..."

Turning her head, she found he really was uncomfortably close beside her. It was a position momentarily excusable given the crowd, but anypony watching the two of them would start to get suspicious. She didn't know whether or not she should reposition to avoid that suspicion, so Lily opted to roll with his lead for now.

"...How are you enjoying this year's Gala?"

He inhaled deeply through his nostrils, and his muzzle slowly trailed down the back of Lily’s neck, taking in her scent.

It sent a chill down her spine.

But she couldn't brush him off here and now -- well, not completely, anyways. Mailedhoof was the reason she was in that getup, after all.

After a moment, the old colt turned an eye back to her. "It has its ups and downs. Some of the crowd is certainly more pleasing to the eye than usual..."

‘That'd be me.’

"...But others are as unwelcome as they are unsightly."

‘Uh…’

He couldn’t be talking about his family, could he? Even through their brief but intense salt-lick/saltine relationship, he'd never actually trash-talked his wife. Lily had always thought of him as somepony who simply wanted more -- or more likely, who believed that they deserved more.

More than just monogamy, to be specific.

So who was he talking about? All the sailors strutting about like they owned the place? Lily could imagine they might get rowdy, and the way Honour's dad trotted off to settle an argument all but confirmed that hunch. But that didn't seem like enough to hate on them. What, did Mailedhoof lose big on last year's Army-Navy hoofball game or something?

Before she could further ponder that question, Mailedhoof answered it with one of his own. "... Who was that red-dressed bat-pony with the black hat that I saw you with just now?"

The way he seemed to almost spit out the word 'bat' made it crystal clear the kind of creature he considered 'unwelcome' and 'unsightly.' And Eb wasn't the only one of her kind at the Gala tonight...

Heck, she wasn't even the only Eb at the Gala tonight.

Lily didn't really know how to answer Mailedhoof; did Don't-Ask-Don't-Tell apply here?

Even if it did, did it matter?

And why the buck did he care who she was, especially if he's not a fan of batponies?

‘Whatever.’

Lily didn't really want to belabor the point with a colt that she was done with, so she just recited the perfunctory truth. "She's part of my quaternion. One of the Royal Engineer's bodyguards, posted by Her Majesty Princess Luna; he got us all tickets to attend."

Captain Mailedhoof snorted. "Ah, yes, our dear Princess of the Night and her loyal minions. Has she been on your assignment for long?"

"No, only two and a half weeks."

He didn’t need to be reminded that the whole tour of duty had only been a few days longer than that, or that Luna apparently wanted Purity in from the start.

"Terrible. I'm surprised she's lasted. Didn't you complain to your commanding officer?"

Lily realized she probably shouldn't tell him that by this point she’d been through thick and thin with Purity Ebonshield and that the unicorn treated her as she would any other Royal Guardspony.

Lucky for her, there was a truthful way out again. "Corporal Bound raised an objection, but it got nowhere."

"Mmm. Orders are orders..." To her surprise, Mailedhoof stepped forward, coming out in front of her, almost muzzle-to-muzzle. He looked her up and down -- and her blood started to boil when his gaze lingered on her Silver Ram.

She hadn't forgotten what he’d done, and how he’d forced her into it.

She hadn’t forgiven him, either.

What a shame that the Gala was no place for a murder, or even a good, solid beating. Even though he'd managed to overpower Lily with his telekinesis in her bedroom, if she could get in a first strike when he didn't expect it, maybe she could still take him down by herself...

As if to shut down the very idea, the captain shook his head with a stern expression on his face. "Well, my dear, I'm afraid you've been seen by my friends in the company of one of those creatures, and there've been questions asked. It's very awkward. I'm sorry you haven't got a choice in the matter; I assure you, neither do I. Of course, I'm very pleased you're here to admire at the Gala, but I simply can't take the risk of associating with their kind through you, so I'm here to tell you that we're through. I don't expect I'll see you again. Good-bye."

With that, he gave a curt nod and passed her by, striding off the way he came.

‘What…’

‘What the buck?!?’

‘WHAT THE BUCK?!?’

‘DID MAILEDHOOF JUST DUMP ME BEFORE I COULD DUMP HIM?!?

‘THAT BASTARD!!’

‘and…’

‘and all because of EBONSHIELD?!?!?!?!’

‘WHAT kind of snobbish, inbred, blue-blooded, hawkesville-jawed, bucking Sol-Invictus-worshipping, unicorn-supremacist, plothole racist would-’

Lily caught herself, and remembered what she’d first thought of the 'sergeant.' Not badly enough to up and quit or start anything right then and there, but certainly enough to hold Eb in the highest suspicion. Sure, Lily had been manaburning at the time, but she couldn't blame that for the entirety of her prejudice. After all, she hadn’t come up with the stories of batponies all being a bunch of fang-toothed, blood-sucking, soul-stealing, foal-napping, nocturnal villains. Nor had anything or anypony forced her to keep them in the back of her mind to pull out in case she saw one of the 'beasts.'

Still, to dump her as a saltine because she happened to work with a batpony?

That was beyond the pale.

‘Hmm.’

Then again, maybe his friends had had friends in the Watchtower; ponies who’d lost their lives during the secret invasion that nopony was supposed to talk about.

...But, even Major-General Hoofstrong hadn't been against working with a batpony, and she had been in command of the fortress during that assault.

No, this must’ve been plain old, regular, garden-variety Canterlot unicorn snobbery. His horned peers had seen his squeeze with a batpony, and it was as good as if she’d been caught literally rolling in the mud like a pig.

Worse, actually -- they would've had a laugh out of seeing her in the dirt.

As a pretty young mare who knew how to dress, and especially with her tale of defeating upstart non-noble Kilfeather, she’d been an asset in his social circles. Now, with her association with Purity Ebonshield and the rest of her Moon-born race, she was a liability. So, just like that, he'd dropped her like a hot potato, without even a kiss goodbye. Lily bet Mailedhoof didn’t even really hate batponies, because she couldn't imagine Mailedhoof actually giving a buck about anypony who wasn’t a noble-born unicorn like himself.

‘Well…’

In terms of her wanting to break up with the captain, she supposed this did neatly accomplish that.

She’d just... pictured herself on top for the encounter. There was a dream that he'd be disappointed -- maybe even apologetic.

"No, please don't go, Lily! I can't go on living without your brilliant conversation, roguish grin, and impeccable bearing! Who else can I take to the officers' lounge to show off on my foreleg? And who else can I find who will possibly look that good in a Louis Valise original?"

‘Mmm, that wasn't quite right.’

"No, please don't go, Lily! I can't go on living without your firm plot, tight snatch, and dexterous tongue! Who else can I take to the officers' lounge to show off on my foreleg? And how else will I have my balls drained when they become ever so full and laden?"

‘Yeah, that's more likely.’

‘...Ehh…’

Given that he was an arrogant, self-centered ass who could probably get just about any guardsmare he wanted, her dream was pretty unrealistic any way she looked at it. Maybe it was better that she avoided putting herself in the position of trying to end a relationship with somepony who had a lot more clout than she did. It could've turned into an ugly fight.

‘But, at least with a fight, even if I’d lost, there would have been some bucking VIOLENCE involved! And some Celestia-damned physical catharsis!’

As it was, this was all unbelievably unsatisfying. Lily felt like she’d just got blue-beaned without even the satisfaction of a titillating build-up.

...Which kinda described her last couple of encounters with Captain Mailedhoof, now that she thought about it.

Shaking her head, she tried to clear what just happened out of her mind.

‘Gotta focus on what's important: finding Honour.’

If she kept daydreaming about sailors or dominating ex-coltfriends, next thing she knew she’d have somepony else sneaking up on her, like Leeward, or Carmen. Swivelling her head around to quickly re-establish her bearings, Lily was pleasantly surprised to see three familiar ponies walking towards her.

Well, two familiar ponies: Artemis and Purity.

She mostly recognized the third as one Corporal Honour Bound, but what in Equestria had she done with her mane? ‘And is she actually smiling?’

Eb called out to her as they arrived. "Ah, Lily, come and see, I have found our camaradas after all!"

She nodded, still scrutinizing the corporal's mane-do -- and Lily noted she had a new tail-do to match, as well. She'd unbraided both of them and appeared to have had both hot-blown, too. Wavy and flowing and showy and glowing, her new hair now lived up to her racy outfit.

"Yeah, no kidding. Changed your mind about the braids after all, Honour?"

That quip didn’t even get her the faintest hint of a scowl, but their energetic pegasus comrade jumped in and answered before the earth pony could reply. "We had to pull the braids out, unfortunately. She needed a quick wash after getting into a fight outside -- there was blood stuck in her mane and on her coat."

Lily lifted an eyebrow. "No kidding, got into a scrap at the Gala? And didn't even think to invite the rest of us -- or at least me?"

In another surprise for the unicorn, the brown mare whinnied with amusement. "Heh, I didn't invite you because I was trying to put a stop to some violence, not escalate it." She nodded her head back towards a set of doors. "A bunch of sailors were about to have a scuffle outside when the Night Guard intervened, and the crews turned on them instead. Knowing what we do about batpony fighting, I figured it'd have turned into a bloodbath if we let them come to blows. So, Artemis and I inserted ourselves as targets instead. I knocked out the ringleader, while she took out his would-be backup."

Then she chuckled. "...I got some blood on me, like Artemis said, so we headed to the washroom to clean up. It's insane in there. Never mind a quiet servant at the door dispensing perfume and marely essentials like a fashionable club has, in the Gala's little fillies' room they have full-on blow-dry operators and stylists ready to administer a quick wash-and-trim."

Artemis's eyes bulged out a bit. "I couldn't believe how busy it was! Dozens of mares, just sitting in a washroom, talking and working on their manes and tails! Why, when there's a whole party out here to enjoy??"

Lily grinned. "Eh, if the lavatory's an event of its own, why not? And I guess it makes sense. It's a long night, ponies travel from far and wide, and even if guards like Honour's Sergeant Castlerook are posted to cut down on the unauthorized explorations, ponies do get up to things and need a way to get back in order. If the place is bumping now, I wouldn't be surprised if it gets even busier once the dance floor opens up."

Honour smirked. "I could believe that…" Then she glanced up at Sparkshower and then Ebonshield in turn. "... Anyways, I'm all done cracking hooves and heads now; could we get back to the dinner table?"

‘Don't have to ask me twice.’

"Yeah, sure thing."

But who was this well-groomed, zesty Changeling infiltrator and how had they managed to replace their frumpy-frowny corporal without anypony noticing the difference so far? And would they mind sticking around for a while? At least the rest of the evening?

Ah, but all of a sudden the familiar glower was back on her face. "Wait, where's Anonymous?"

Lily jerked a forehoof over her shoulder towards the main dining room. "Holding down the fort at our table with our now-cold dinner plates, why?"

Honour's look of concern turned to despair. "You left him all alone? After he talked about not wanting to be abandoned at the Gala?"

Artemis gasped, slapping both forehooves against her muzzle. "Oh, no! That's right!"

Snorting dismissively, Lily turned to head back. "Ah, come on, he was only joking. Besides, we've only been gone a few minutes; just long enough to look around a bit to find you two, and heading back to him whether we found you or not."

Apparently that wasn’t good enough, as Honour actually pushed past her, taking the lead. Unsurprisingly, second place was quickly occupied by Sparkshower, who flapped overhead to trail right behind the corporal. Lily and Purity realized they might as well follow at the faster pace the two of them were setting.

Not that Lily expected there was anything to be concerned about. How hard could it be to sit at a round table and keep four other seats empty for a quarter of an hour?

As she finally made it around a large crowd that was blocking the view of their seats, Lily was thoroughly unsurprised to see the Royal Engineer still sitting down in the same chair he was in when she left him.

"See, he's fine. No problem being left alone."

It was Artemis who answered, landing in front of her. "He's not alone." Her tone was a bit cold.

Ah, there was a mare speaking to him -- sitting on her haunches behind one of the chairs, rather than on it. A purple unicorn in a bustled blue dress, from what Lily could see. The pegasus emitted a quiet grumble which grew in volume when she saw Anonymous tilt his head back in laughter.

But it disappeared once he noticed their approach, and he got to his feet with a smile. "Ah, here's my companions now, actually."

The unidentified unicorn rose up on her hooves, and that's when Lily noticed she was actually no mere unicorn -- she had feathered wings at her sides, too. While Lily was processing the presence of this alicorn from out of nowhere, the Royal Engineer looked her group over. "... I hope everything's all right?"

Honour stepped up towards the table. "All fine; I just had to freshen up."

Anonymous turned down towards the purple pony -- who must be some kind of royalty, Lily realized, for her to be walking around with horns and wings at the same time. "Oh, good. I was just telling Princess Twilight Sparkle that we've gotten into such a number of unbelievable adventures together already, I was concerned another one was about to begin. But I guess since you're all back safe and sound we can put our next perilous undertaking for another day."

‘Geez, a Princess; guess I ought to bow?’

She was regular-size, though, not big and tall like Their Majesties. Well, at least a curtsy would be polite -- any noble would appreciate that.

But before Lily could even begin, Princess Whatshername telekinetically pulled out a scroll from a case on the belt around her dress. With a quill retrieved from the same location, she quickly scribbled something on the paper, then tucked her pen away. "I'm happy to hear it! Well, as I said, I saw an unfamiliar creature looking a little lonely at this table here, and thought -- we can't have any loneliness at the Grand Galloping Gala, it wouldn't be right! But I've got a long list of things I need to do if I'm going to officially take over planning and running next year's Gala, and I've got to get back to it. I'm sure we'll speak again, Lord Anonymous."

Anonymous bowed as she withdrew. "By all means, your Highness; anytime you are in Canterlot Palace, please drop by my office."

The four of them gave proper signs of respect to the cheerfully busy purple alicorn before taking their seats at the table once more. The food was a little colder now, but Lily didn't doubt it’d still be good. Anyways they could always get up and grab some more -- the buffet line was looking a little less busy now.

Anonymous looked happy, and so did Purity.

But Honour and Artemis both seemed concerned.

The pegasus' attitude, Lily understood -- after all, the Princess was unescorted, as far as she could tell.

But had Honour lapsed back into dourness?

And what was Anonymous' take on the whole thing?

‘Let's shake this tree of mystery a little and see what falls out.’

"So, we leave you alone for a few minutes, and you're already chatting up a Princess, huh? Guess maybe Lieutenant Kilfeather was right about the Gala being hookup central after all."

He just laughed off Lily’s comment. "Oh, that was nothing; we barely said two words to each other before you all got back." She couldn't help but notice his gaze drift towards the corporal. "...Decided on a different hairstyle for the rest of the evening, Honour?"

Suddenly in the spotlight, she turned her head down towards her plate, picking up her fork with a forehoof. "Uhh... Yes."

Reminded of the meal before him -- and before each of them -- the Royal Engineer picked up his own cutlery in response, as did everypony else at the table, but he was still looking Honour over.

"It looks good on you. I think it gives you a more... convivial appearance."

Honour almost choked on the food she'd just shoved into her mouth.

‘Can't take a compliment, huh?’

‘That's back to standard.’

Artemis spoke up, deflecting attention back towards herself. "That's right! And there's just something about that mane-style which always seems strange to me... When I was younger, the first time I saw a mare in braids was on a class trip to the old Prench fort of Trois-Rivières. One of the historical reenactors playing the medical nurse had a braid and would just constantly tug at it. I think she was a bit nervous about her performance..." Scooping up a heaping mouthful of 'Quiche Lothringen', she concluded. "I never saw you do that, Honour, but I always wondered why you wore your mane in braids -- it looks so much better this way."

The corporal sighed. "It's just easier to manage in braids. Although, to tell the full story..." She looked around the table. "... I used to wear my mane and tail like this all the time. Right up until my divorce."

Artemis gasped. "Oh, no. I'm sorry, Honour! You should have said something, we could have braided it up again."

But the earth pony just smiled as she shook her head, wavy mane following along. "No, no. It's alright like this for now. Like I said, I feel a lot better right now."

Anonymous reached for a bottle of champagne that'd been set in the middle of the table.

‘Well, hello, that's a tasty new addition since I got up to look for the wayward pair.’

"Shall we toast your good feelings and new style, then? A sommelier came by with this while you were all off, I asked him to leave it corked until you got back." Deftly unscrewing the retainer, he placed the bottle in his lap and pushed the cork off with his fingers.

POP

Wisps of vapor emerged from the mouth of the bottle for a moment, before he started to dole out the bubbly.

Honour took her filled flute but looked embarrassed. "Not my hair, please. We ought to salute something greater than that."

The Royal Engineer grinned. "All right. I'll keep it simple, though. Here's to a wonderful evening!"

Lily grinned. "I'll drink to that!"

"So will I!"

"Me too!"

"¡And I also!"

As everypony else lifted their glasses in agreement, before tipping back and drinking a sip of brut, Lily couldn't help but wonder what was going to happen next. There was still the Games, the Royal Engineer's 'foundry' project, her sessions with the batpony Eclipse...

And then there was tonight.

Now that she was officially single, Lily had no intention of leaving this Gala without seriously playing the field. And from what she had seen, this was just as target-rich an environment as everypony had always said it was. Glancing over at Purity and Artemis, tonight's other two players on the 'mares' team, she wondered how well they'd do.

Then Lily slyly looked over at Anonymous.

Would he pick up on Artemis' attempts at a pass?

Or would he instead go long, and see that purple princess again?

Or maybe there was something else in his cards?

Anything other than the first would hurt Artemis, sure, but then, Lily was just as sure she could find the pegasus a colt as well, if she struggled to find another on her own.

Anyways, single and looking at the Grand Galloping Gala, in a Louis Valise dress?

‘Yeah, this is going to be the best night ever.’

Lowering her drink, Lily found herself grinning from ear to ear as she leaned back in her seat.

Suggested interlude music: Terror Squad - 'Lean Back', featuring Fat Joe and Remy Ma [2004]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ajmI1P3r1w4

Chapter 143

Sergeant Blacks-

‘Err, no, wait a moment. That was the disguise I wore for the presentation of the 'Whirlwind'.’

Purity Ebonshield

Purity Ebonshield fought to regain her bearings. Clearly, all this drink was starting to go to her head. The food helped, but even so, she was feeling quite 'happy.' And she was greatly tempted to imbibe further, for at this Grand Galloping Gala of Equestria there was absolutely no shortage of alcohol. Still, she recognized she should restrain herself. After all, if she went too far, then she would have difficulty enjoying the dancing later. Besides, there was no need to drink for mere entertainment, as there was enough of that on offer already. A great deal of it, in fact.

‘Start with the larger show, more distant.’

The ballroom had opened once again, and from her table, Purity could admire the traditional and formal dances being conducted within. An orchestra of over twenty musicians sat on a raked platform at the far end, performing for a crowd consisting mostly of middle-aged and older ponies in elegant suits and rich, ornate ball-gowns. There were a few junior members in the crowd as well; débutantes and other scions of the nobility, according to Lily. Whatever their age, the dancers flowed around the room with grace, though the music was, in Purity’s opinion, rather stilted -- almost as if they were dancing to an Equestrian military march with a very rigid beat. The harmony of the orchestra was very pleasing, of course, but they were not playing the style of dance music she was used to, nor like what she’d heard at Canterlot nightclubs, which was more familiar and enjoyable.

Purity was looking forward to dancing to that sort of beat later in the night.

Regardless, the majestic sight of so much coordinated movement was still certainly something to behold, even if it was somewhat removed from her own table, and a little obstructed by the heads and hats of various interposed ponies.

And those were the next most proximate source of Purity’s amusement.

As they finished their meals, the ponies began to move from table to table, greeting each other, respectively admiring the latest fashions, and generally catching up. With all the furniture, it was not quite as social an environment as the grand staircase entryway and hall, but there were still many faces and outfits to be seen for a perceptive voyeur such as herself. Perhaps nothing quite so exotic as her genuinely otherworldly outfit, but still, she did not stand out quite nearly so much as she’d expected when surrounded by so many other styles, all adorned with glittering jewelry, tall decorative feathers, fur shawls, bold capes, and more.

She did attract attention, to be sure, and that too was amusing.

There were several very promising candidates for dance partners later, when the music was more to her taste and her belly was not quite so full. And, with a certain subtlety, she had made sure to let each of those handsome colts know that they would be welcome with her on the dance floor at that time. Not all of them were brave enough to come by and introduce themselves, but that's quite all right with her; she’d remember their faces for later, and she was perfectly capable of seeking them out herself if she ran out of, or grew bored with, the more aggressive suitors.

‘Ah, the beautiful game of romance hoof-loose and fancy-free. How hard would it really be to find a little bit of privacy later in the evening?’

Honour told all how the Royal Guard was corralling the guests in the main public areas in an effort to curb such dalliances, but there were always unguarded avenues, and the Stellar Dancers were, after all, masters of infiltration. A shortcut through a kitchen or closet, an unlocked second-floor window or skylight, or even an out-of-the-way lavatory…

In the worst case, Purity could simply go back to her own room upstairs in the West wing, though it was quite a distance to travel just for a quick little 'encounter.'

And besides, she ought to reserve her own chambers for the final catch of the night.

With so many attendees visiting from far away, the batpony doubted she'd find anyone to outright replace her young student, Gilbert Lionheart, but he was often busy with his studies at the Schola Magia, and it would be pleasing to have a 'backup colt.'

Which brought her attention to the closest source of entertainment: the poor, lovestruck pegasus Artemis Sparkshower.

It was really a bit villainous of her to enjoy this, but Purity couldn't help herself.

The young pegasus squirmed in her seat, sighing and looking wistfully at the formal ballroom dancers. Every once in a while she’d glance back at the Royal Engineer, their Very Important Pony (who wasn't actually a pony). He was enjoying the show, too, but it was clear he knew as little as Purity did about the steps for these formal dances. And while he was perfectly happy to practice for and then perform one of them earlier, he was certainly not about to get up and make a fool of himself by struggling to learn brand new moves in front of hundreds of Equestria's gentry. Even worse, unlike the 'Lipizzaner Waltz' he performed earlier, almost all of these dances she was watching were done down on all fours. Anonymous wouldn't even have the benefit of trying to copy other colts; he'd have to come up with his own maneuvers all himself. As a result, getting up and dancing with Sparkshower was completely out of the question, and understandably so.

Hence the frustrated squirming by their poor unfortunate pegasus comrade, who from the way her head bobbed at every beat and followed every bob and weave of the dancers, clearly did know the steps. She wanted to get up and dance, and who could blame her? The grandest social event of the year, a by-invitation-only exclusive ordinarily reserved for Equestria's gentry? Artemis was unquestionably a beautiful young mare, and in her adorable tea-length dress, Purity had no doubt that if she were to get up and dance then she would not merely meet the standards of the floor but, if accompanied by a suitable colt, actually raise them.

As amusing as it was to taste her silly self-imposed vexation, Purity couldn't sit idly by and watch it go on any longer. After all, what kind of a friend was she to let this suffering go on?

"Artemis, dear, why don't you get up and join the dancing?" The batpony pointed a forehoof at a gaggle of tuxedoed colts huddled around the bar closest to the dance floor. It was like a Canterlot cab stand of dance partners; a shop window with everything on display. "...Look at all those fine young stallions eagerly looking for the next elegant mare who will allow them the privilege of leading her out onto the floor."

From the way she writhed in her seat, Purity could tell Artemis had been thinking about this already. But in her mind she probably believed such a thing would be a 'betrayal' of her current beau, even if they were not formally attached.

Or even informally attached, for that matter.

Purity decided to go straight to the root of the problem, and turned to face the object of Artemis’ desire. "...Our little table ought to be represented in these formal dances, don't you think so, Great Lord?"

Anonymous smiled at Purity, then Artemis in turn. "Of course! I wish I could join you again, but I'm afraid I'd make a terrible fool of myself. The music is strangely familiar, but all I'd be able to do is repeat our dance steps from the waltz, and that's clearly not what they're doing out there." He chuckled. "Don't let my earlier request not to be left alone stop you from enjoying the party. It was partially in jest, anyways. We're all here as private individuals, and I don't want anybody thinking they're on a leash." Then he grinned, lifting an eyebrow and looking around. "I am definitely looking forward to getting up later, when the modern stuff starts. It's a lot closer to what I'm used to from my world."

Poor Sparkshower still seemed to hesitate, and she turned to her other comrades. "Well, if it's alright with you..."

Glamerspear was the first to reply, blowing out dismissively as she held her drink up in a teal telekinetic aura. "Pfft, of course you should go, marefriend! If you're worried about beating off unwanted suitors, I'd be happy to come with ya."

Honour shook her head, her recently-liberated mane flowing behind. "You'll be fine. This isn't my kind of dance either, but go up and enjoy yourself, Artemis. We'll keep our eyes on you from here."

With some trepidation, the pegasus climbed out of her chair and down onto all fours. "Okay..."

She took a deep breath and scanned the lingering colts in the distance, as if trying to identify a target, her ears flicking left and right as she did so.

"... Okay! Right!"

Having clearly made her choice, Sparkshower burst into what began as a marching gait, before relaxing into something formal but properly less rigid, trotting gaily over towards the dance floor. All four of those still seated at the table watched as she made her way around the tables and through, around, or over, the occasional crowded bottleneck, until she stood a few hooves away from that same little herd of colts. She had their attention almost immediately, and seemed to give them all a final look-over. Then she took another bold step forward and appeared to fix her gaze on a single individual. He was a dapper young unicorn stallion with a steely-blue coat and a brushed-back, orange-yellow mane, broad-shouldered in his suit compared to Artemis with her haunches bare and just as tall as her -- though the horn gave the appearance of him being slightly taller.

‘Mmm, tall, dark and handsome; she has a fine taste in gentlecolts.’

Purity did not know what she said, or how he replied, but immediately after that exchange, Artemis gave a petite curtsy and he a quick bow, and moments later he was leading her to the dance floor. And just a few steps after that, she became a part of the fluid, elegant display.

Honour glanced over towards the batpony and spoke softly. "Thanks for giving her that kick, Purity. She needed it." She just nodded and resumed her enjoyment of the show.

It was difficult to keep a constant eye on her comrade as she sailed and whirled across the ballroom along with her colt, but Purity did try, at least for the first piece. After all, she was curious to see if Artemis would stick with the same companion for a second go-around...

When the music slowed and the dancers came to a halt, Purity was pleasantly surprised to see the pegasus still standing with the same colt, waiting expectantly as the orchestra paused momentarily to flip their music sheets to the next tune.

Just as the musicians took up their instruments once more, that's when the sound of an all-too-familiar voice spoke up from behind her. "My dear Royal Engineer, how good to see you again! I was so hoping we would run into each other again this evening..."

‘Great Mother help me!’

Purity was far too drunk to handle her actual mother right then.

Putting on her most pleasant smile, the younger batpony pivoted in her seat along with everyone else to once again greet Carmen Ebonshield, Reverend Mother Superior of the Children of the Stars. She didn't have to turn far, for after a quick introductory dip, and faster than their VIP could get to his feet, Carmen strode over to Sparkshower's vacated chair.

"... Please, please, don't get up on my account. May I join you?" Without waiting for any more answer than the absence of a frown, she immediately seated herself and tucked right in, clasping her forehooves together with a smile before spreading them wide on the tablecloth, as if holding court.

‘Holding court is what she generally does in the Rookery and on the Moon, so why not here, too?’

Even with the friendly, casual veneer she was presenting at the moment, her imposing presence was enough to make Glamerspear straighten up a bit in her seat. With a faint smile, Carmen looked around the table before settling her gaze on Anonymous. "Well. It seems I owe a number of debts to you and your entourage, my Lord."

Raising her eyebrows, she shot a knowing glance at Honour, and then at Purity, before shaking her head and lifting her eyebrows. "I must confess, I am beside myself with shock at the events which have transpired this evening. But let it not be said that I am incapable of admitting my own faults or of trying to remedy them, though of course I must first pay penance and seek absolution." Inhaling deeply, she faces the Corporal, turning her forehooves frog-up and bowed her head in a posture of supplication. "My child, I am deeply in your debt for your actions on the front lawn. I shudder to think at what tragedy might have resulted if Reynauld's Swarming Meteors had been unleashed upon those unsuspecting Equestrian sailors, and your timely intervention saved not only lives but has also prevented a scandal that might easily have ruined this wonderful evening." Tilting her muzzle back up, she continued. "...And, if you'll forgive a little brutal honesty -- I'm afraid I must blame it on the free-flowing drink -- such an incident would certainly have been a considerable setback for the Great Mother's goal of reintegrating our peoples."

The stoic Corporal didn’t quite seem to know what to say. "Uhm... You're welcome, Your Reverence. It was nothing; I saw the potential for trouble, and I dealt with it."

‘Is that a hint of rosiness in her cheeks? Will this earth pony forever be embarrassed to take a compliment?’

Carmen tittered with amusement at the reply. "Ohh, but you are too modest! You must know that I consulted privately with Lieutenant Orange afterwards, and he expressed his appreciation. The Sixth of Meteors also spoke most admiringly of your prowess. By his account, you completely outplayed your opponent." Reaching out a forehoof, she gestured at Honour's mane. "And, lo! You've come out of that brawl looking, if I may be so bold, even more stunning than when the evening began! What a beautiful mane you have; you really must consider wearing it down like this more often. And how well it goes with that lovely red dress! I can't imagine why you're not already surrounded by suitors eager to ask you to the dance-floor. Don't tell me you're so demure as to turn the poor gentlecolts away? I'm sure your coltfriend, that handsome Sergeant, wouldn't mind his mare being exhibited in the ballroom for all to properly appreciate."

Their brown comrade's cheeks become a little more red. She had to clear her throat before answering. "It's not really my thing, your Reverence."

Carmen nodded as if she understood everything implied by that sentence absolutely perfectly -- which, given her considerable information network and expert skills at personal manipulation, might actually be the case. "Well, perhaps I have something more to your liking. Carlos?"

At her command, the same young, dark-grey mustached colt Purity had seen her with earlier approached the table with a rectangular wooden box tucked under one foreleg. Sitting down on his haunches, he pulled it out and presented it, removing one of the sides with a forehoof to reveal a large wine-bottle inside, surrounded by straw.

Making sure she had the attention of everyone present, Carmen gestured at the offering. "This is a magnum of what I consider to be the Moon's finest cava, the word we give our sparkling wine; it means 'cellar', since of course the wine must be cellared to become bubbly..."

Everyone leaned in to take a closer look, Purity included.

‘Is it the vintage I think it is?’

"...Grand Mountain sparkling wine, aged fifteen years. On the Moon, you know, wines and beers are considered precious because of the amount of water required to produce them, as well as contained within the finished product. Distilled spirits such as 'Maestro Cazador' are the preferred tipple of the lower phases, owing to their reduced water content and therefore price. We Lunars reserve gifts such as 'cava,' which requires additional water, time, and labor, for only the most deserving of individuals and occasions. I think you will find this Grand Mountain vintage is more than competitive with the best Prench Champagnes."

Yes, that was the good stuff, all right; but was that a direct attack on Purity’s prior choice in smuggled liquor? She couldn’t help but riposte. "It would seem Your Reverence has come to the Gala bearing more than just pretty mares and handsome colts with which to woo the Equestrian elite."

As she expected, Carmen wasn't fazed in the slightest by that irritated outburst. "Of course! One mustn't come seeking favors without bringing gifts. But this is for you, as well, Stellar Seven. I owe you a great apology; far greater than I could repay even with all the sweetest wines of the Moon..."

‘What is she talking about, now?’

With a deep sigh, Carmen raised one forehoof towards her, then dropped it defeatedly back down. "...You were right, my daughter. You were right, and I was wrong."

‘This is a joke, right?’

Purity had never heard her admit to being wrong before.

"It was a mistake for me to try to subvert the Great Mother's wishes by manipulating her into taking one of my Lunars for the Royal Engineer's bodyguard. I thought I was improving our chances at progressing integration by preventing someone untrained and unprepared for diplomacy from being assigned here on the surface, and yet here we are. There have been troubles, yes, but even so you have done more in these few weeks than I could have imagined happening for months..."

‘She's playing again, acting. This is not sincere; it can't be.’

"...An Equestrian soldier who rushes to rescue Stars from their own inadequacies. Batponies openly attending the Grand Galloping Gala. Equestrians who come freely of their own will into the Rookery, to converse with our Rocks and our Stars and our Eclipse, to trade and to train, bringing gifts and opportunities..." Carmen indicated the Royal Engineer. "...And the prospect of Rocks coming to the surface to aid in an Equestrian project, as well. All of this, without any command or instruction, let alone scheme or grand plan."

Purity’s mother, her coat almost unrecognizingly bare of the chalky makeup she had worn for the Stellar Seven’s entire life, looked at her ruefully, her speech slowing from her usual rapid patter. "The Great Mother's blessing is upon you, my child, whether you know it or not. There is no other explanation. I bore the blessing when I correctly predicted Her return and secured my place at the top of the Lunar hierarchy. I thought that would stay with me forever, and in my arrogance I have lost it." A tear escaped her left eye, and she brushed it away with a forehoof. "...I know I am very demanding, and I have asked a lot of you, Purity. I never approved of your choice to live as a Star. And when you refuse me even the slightest thing, I am sinfully filled with wrath. I have commanded outrageous things be done against you in my vengeance. And yet here you have given the Children more than I could even have conceived of asking for."

Taking a deep breath, she sighed. "I'm not going to pretend I'm capable of stopping my petty schemes and manipulations; they're simply in my nature. And I'm not going to beg your forgiveness here and now. But I am sorry, my child. I am sorry for what I've done, and I'm stunned and ashamed at what great strides have been made in spite of me, rather than with my help."

‘I cannot deal with this right now; not with my mind so foggy from alcohol.’

Evaluating the truth of anything Carmen said was difficult enough without also being a little drunk. Then again, she was more than a little drunk herself as well -- though that too, could be faked, and she had a greater tolerance for the stuff than Purity did.

‘Best to just change the subject to something more immediate.’

"I see. Well. I suppose we can speak of this more later. I take it having delivered your apology and the cava you will now be off to entice some other elder statestallion in the name of the Children?"

Carmen whinnied, tossing her head back and actually slouching down a little in her chair. "Oh, no, I'm spent for the evening. I'm not the young mare I once was, you know; and anyways, the crowd of 'elder statestallions', as you say, is growing thin. They, like me, are forced by age to retire earlier than you young foals and fillies. And I'm afraid my own talents are rather disadvantaged when dealing with youth."

With a chuckle, she pointed at the table's own white-label champagne bottle, and her companion Carlos quickly reached over to pour her a dollop into one of the unused glasses surrounding the floral centerpiece. Looking frankly exhausted -- Purity had never seen exhaustion under her eyes before, not with all the makeup she always wore -- she tipped back and downed the glass in a single mouthful, before signaling for another.

While that was being sorted for her, she looked over at Purity and a wry smile appeared on her face. "But what's this I'm hearing? Say something else, my dear. In Equestrian."

‘Eh?’

"Huh? Say what? I don't understand what you mean, Reverend Mother."

Lifting her eyebrows, Carmen started chortling uncontrollably, looking all around at everyone else. "Ohohoho! Don't tell me I'm the only one who hears it? No?" As the second serving of champagne was presented to her, she lifted the glass, still laughing. "My dear darling daughter, you are skilled without equal in a great many things, but your Equestrian has always left something to be desired. Understandable, of course, for as a Star you were not extensively trained. Yet here you are, a few hours after we last met, speaking now without an accent and without any of the errors in grammar so common to our kind when they use the Solar tongue."

With tears in her eyes, she took a drink. "...You must be absolutely hammered. Ahaha!"

Flabbergasted, Purity turned to her companions for confirmation. Anonymous nodded pensively. "You know, now that your Reverence has pointed it out, I can hear it, too."

‘Impossible!’

Lily chimed in as well. "Hey, yeah. Your accent's gone. That's pretty funny."

Even Honour shrugged and nodded at her.

‘This is absurd! Liquor can do a great many things, but it can’t suddenly make one speak proper Equestrian, err... speak the Equestrian proper -- wait, which order are the words supposed to be in?’

Purity clearly needed to lay off drinks for a little while.

‘Just how much alcohol is in this special celebratory 'rum punch' drink, anyways? The fruit juice must be masking the bite.’

Still giggling at her revelation, Carmen sat up straight again and set her glass down, once again appearing to hold court. "Now, I just have one more item I would like to discuss. I see that Specialist Sparkshower is enjoying herself on the dance floor, and we've already discussed Corporal Bound's present situation. My dear Purity, I know you're unfamiliar with these formal Equestrian routines, though I'm sure you've already got your keen eye on several choice stallions for later. But Specialist Glamerspear? How is that so luxuriously-accoutered a mare such as yourself does not have a handsome colt to hang on her foreleg and dote on her every need?"

Lily swallowed, before licking her lips. "I'm actually taking a break from playing the field right now."

Purity’s mother feigned shock. "Heavens! Don't tell me some tragedy has befallen your love-life?"

The unicorn narrowed her eyes before replying. "Something like that. Not that I'd say 'no' if the right colt came along, but I'm gonna play things slow for a little while."

The Reverend Mother Superior smirked knowingly. "I see, of course. You must forgive my prying; it is one of the responsibilities for a Reverend Mother to play 'matchmaker' for the Children of their House, particularly the Stars and Lunars who are required to breed as instructed, but we also help facilitate matches for Rocks and Dust as well, and this is a duty which I absolutely relish. Sizing up potential mates, determining who would be happiest with whom, and calculating which pairings will produce the finest of offspring -- it's a grand, complicated game, and I do very much enjoy games -- and the more complex, the better..." She grinned, turning to the Royal Engineer. "...Which brings us to the final member of this table. Come now, my Lord Engineer: tell me you've already had several proposals this evening from eligible members of the landed gentry. Or at least, given your proclivity for military affairs, a fine young officer or two -- a Captain, at least, or perhaps a Major."

Singled out once again, their VIP couldn't help but chuckle. "I'm afraid I'm flying solo at the moment, your Reverence."

Carmen sighed. "Tragic. I accept that you refused one of my nubile young Lunars and declined Purity's offer, but you must allow me to help you in this matter as best I can. I assure you I have made several contacts of interest already; all I need is the information to better understand your Lordship's pleasures."

At that, Anonymous' chuckle turned into laughter, and Lily guffawed behind a raised forehoof. "It's not the first time I've been asked to explore that topic tonight. I'm not sure if a second interrogation will yield much better results than the first."

With a sly expression, Carmen looked over at the unicorn. "I see. It's good to know your guardsmares are on top of things when it comes to your best interests. I suppose the best I can do is make a few more proposals of my own..." Picking up her wine-flute, she swirled the champagne around a little bit, observing as the bubbles precipitated. "...Upon reflection, the landed gentry are likely to be too provincial for someone who wishes to industrialize Equestria. You need someone more urbane; an heiress, perhaps, to a brewery or distillery, or a mine or mill. Something largely self-sustaining, so she can give you and your projects the attention they deserve." Tilting her tufted ears, she tapped a forehoof against her chin. "A military mare would still be a good match, I think. You are trying to bring a new, higher order to the Equestrian economy, and as a capable military is also well-regimented but forward-looking, a proper officer should appreciate and support such an endeavor."

Taking a sip, she licked her lips. "Or perhaps you aspire to loftier heights? We have not yet conversed at length, true, but I judge you a fine gentlecolt from what I have seen so far. You are learned, with an impressive physique as well. And I understand you have formed a close relationship with the Equestrian diarchs, particularly Princess Luna..."

Purity couldn't help but snort out as soon as she realized where Carmen was going with this. "Reverend Mother!"

Carmen only pursed her lips slyly. "What? Am I not the head priestess of our Great Mother? Am I not obligated to tend to her every need? And she is a mare, with a mare's needs..." Leaning forwards, she lowers her voice. "...Believe me, I know. Her Majesty has, at my urging, availed herself on several occasions of the services of my prime Lunar stallions. But the lamentable truth is that she restrains herself to an unhealthy infrequency, probably out of some desire to not overindulge to excess. I think it would be far better for her mental state if she had a single, dependable partner to rely upon for her needs, both physical and emotional."

Purity couldn’t believe she was hearing her mother propose this openly. The shock of it made her even ignore the fact that Mother Carmen had just casually spilled a very secret detail of the Great Mother's private life. Her jaw hung down, and when she glanced around the table, she saw bulging eyes and open mouths all around. "You would endorse the joining of Anonymous and Luna?"

The Reverend Mother Superior gave the slightest of shrugs. "Why not? Not to insult the Lord Engineer, but I can certainly think of worse matches." Carmen licked her lips, gesturing dismissively with one forehoof. "It's no secret that the Great Mother has difficulty communicating with we, her Children. After all, we developed on our own for a thousand years while she slumbered in torpor. She made us physically, yes, but our society is alien to her, and this saps her confidence in dealing with our issues. Even Equestria has changed in ways she doesn't recognize, and this makes things worse as she's without any stable base besides the support of her sister -- which is considerable, to be sure, but still a very narrow platform."

She turned her gaze to Purity. "You've spent some time in her company, and the Stellar Dancers are mystics who profess to understand the Great Mother through asceticism. Surely you have noticed these issues as well."

The Stellar Seven furrowed her brow.

‘She's not wrong.’

Yes, the Great Mother sometimes appeared unsure, probably in part because of the reasons that the Reverend Mother had described. And Purity would be overjoyed to see her people's Goddess paired up with a handsome stallion who could live up to the very high standards expected of him. The Royal Engineer might just fit that bill, and personally, she did not see anything wrong with the Great Mother pairing up with any creature at all, provided they were worthy.

But she found it impossible to understand how Carmen could make this proposal.

Purity remembered her eagerness to trigger the invasion when Nightmare Moon awoke, how she spoke of the dream of a world dominated by their kind, with other breeds serving at best as second-class citizens, and all other intelligent creatures relegated even further beneath. She remembered, too, her frustration and almost complete breakdown when the invasion failed and Nightmare Moon was 'reduced' -- that had been Carmen's choice term -- to Princess Luna.

Perhaps she really had altered her goal to be the successful integration of batponies into Equestria, but Purity couldn't imagine that she had completely abandoned her racist principles. She was unquestionably a batpony supremacist; and this was no surprise, for batpony supremacy was part and parcel of everything taught to foals in the crèche. The Children of the League of Stars were the predestined rulers of Equestria and of the whole world. The Children were smarter, faster, stronger, and purer, than the Equestrians could ever hope to be. The Children would win because the Moon is harsh, producing a hardy breed with strong institutions, while the Equestrians had grown soft in their lush paradise.

They were weak, and the weak should tremble before the strong.

This was the dogma all foals of the Children were made to take to heart, Purity’s own foalhood included. It was only when she had joined the Stellar Dancers that Master Draxon was able to open her eyes to recognizing that truth was not to be found in the repetition of absolutist mantras and simplistic arguments of supremacy.

She never fully appreciated that lesson while he was alive, but afterwards she’d been infinitely grateful, for it deadened the impact when the inconceivable news arrived that the invasion had failed. The Shadows, Dust, and Rocks were also fortunate; they may have had this fanaticism drilled into them in the crèche, but in the absence of reinforcement in their mundane daily lives, they soon lost it like a useless appendage. But for the other Stars, and worse, the Lunars? The invasion's failure was considered apocalyptic, and many of them were still struggling, two years later, to come to terms with reality.

And that's why Purity was perplexed that Carmen, of all Children, would ever accept, let alone propose, not merely a non-batpony, but a complete non-pony, as a suitor for the Great Mother. Purity knew she was a creature of very few scruples, but surely this was a line she was incapable of crossing while still maintaining her supremacist beliefs.

And she refused to believe she had abandoned that supremacism.

As these deep thoughts continued to tumble about in her half-drunken mind, it was Anonymous who came to the rescue by grounding the conversation once more. "Your Reverence advances a number of intriguing ideas. I appreciate the offer of your services as a, uh, facilitator in these matters, but I'm in no rush. I've been in love before, and I find it's best to let things happen naturally."

Carmen appeared half-frustrated at being denied and simultaneously half-amused for the same reason. "Hmph. Well, let no-one say I didn't try. As for letting things 'happen naturally'..." Downing the rest of her champagne, she delicately fluttered out of the chair and back onto all fours, smirking. "...I suppose all I can answer is that I am curious to see where this magical night of nights leaves you in the morning. I do hope you awaken with a warm and supportive presence beside you. And with that, I bid you all a good evening; I shall retire to the Rookery." After a graceful bow, she waved a forehoof at the boxed bottle of sparkling wine. "Carlos will deposit my gift at your office, my Lord, so that you needn't be burdened with keeping track of it tonight. I don't dare try to upstage Their Majesties' cellars, and there will be an occasion for you all to enjoy it in the future, I'm certain." With a bow of his own, her colt closed the box and placed it back under one foreleg, before bowing again and following the Reverend Mother Superior off towards the main hall.

There was a long silence at the table. Carmen did have that kind of effect on things: sweeping in like a tornado, leaving destruction in her wake.

Anonymous puffed his cheeks and blew out loudly. "Your mother sure is something, Purity."

It was the understatement of the century, and it completely wiped away the troubling thoughts she’d been having. Purity couldn’t help but laugh and relax into enjoying the pleasant vibes of the Gala once more. "Yes, she is."

Suggested interlude music: Axwell - Feel The Vibe (Original) [2005]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=889H0Am7vFo

Chapter 144

Artemis Sparkshower

This is what she’d always wanted. There she was, in the ballroom of Canterlot Palace, at the Grand Galloping Gala, in a beautiful dress, dancing the night away. There was a live orchestra playing a lineup of mostly waltzes with a few lively polkas and two-steps thrown in for some excitement. And, to crown it all off, there was a handsome colt dancing with her: pleasant-faced, broad-shouldered, well-trimmed, and sharp-looking in his tailored tailcoat and starched collar. He was a tall one, too; tall enough to look proper next to Artemis, from what she could tell in her stolen glances towards the thin mirrors that hung between the row of doors to the main hall.

Artemis couldn't have flown any higher if she’d tried.

So why didn’t she feel like she was flying high?

Yes, she was enjoying herself, but she felt strangely unfulfilled, and as a result, a little distracted. Not so much that she missed a single hoof in dancing, though, not even with this relatively unfamiliar two-step. It was a pretty recent dance craze sweeping the ballrooms of Equestria, and Artemis hadn't had a chance to learn it yet. Her companion clearly knew the moves, though, and he led her through them easily despite her inexperience. He didn’t say a word — not that he needed to; he was good enough with his dapper-shod hooves that Artemis got the motions implicitly.

It was a bit incredible; she didn’t think she’d ever been so effortlessly guided at a dance before, not even when she was first led around the floor by her coach, back in school.

Certainly Huckleberry never managed anything like this, but that was a low hurdle to steeplechase over; Artemis had often led him for the first few times with each new dance. It could take him a while to get him to a point where he was competent enough to take the reins, but she had been willing to put in the effort. In the end, when he was able to lead her, it was always worth it. Maybe this present ease she felt was just from being generally more experienced, even if not in this particular promenade? And how many times had her current partner wordlessly taught the two-step to a mare?

That thought nagged at Artemis a bit.

Not that she had presented herself to him with any expectation that this interaction should go any further than the ballroom, of course; this was her stepping up to get what she wanted out of this event. Now she could tell everypony back in Berry that, on top of everything else that had happened on this assignment, she’d also been led around the dance floor at the Grand Galloping Gala by a handsome unicorn colt. Probably a member of the nobility!

‘Not that that really matters to me, but who knows?’

Sure, they hadn't been properly introduced. And sure, it seemed like she wasn't the first novice he'd introduced to the two-step.

But wasn't it wonderful and magical all the same?

Artemis took a breath, and for a moment, she dropped the smile she’d been wearing. He didn’t seem to notice, perhaps taking that for an expression of struggle to follow along in the movements. The next guiding push, she felt, was very slightly firmer than the last. Even though Artemis couldn't keep her face up, he made sure she didn't miss a beat when it came to her hooves.

‘He really is good at this.’

She glanced over at the group of colts she’d picked him out from. In the blurred vision imposed by the quick, bouncing motions of the energetic dance, they all blended together: a flock of largely identical and interchangeable stallions. Sure, some were shorter and some were taller, and some were broader or narrower, and some had their manes up while others had them down, but did it really make a difference?

‘Thundershowers, I don’t even know his name!’

‘But then, wasn't that on me?’

She hadn't asked, and he hadn't ventured. Artemis just curtsied and said, "Good evening, sir. Would you care to lead me to the floor?"

And he'd replied with a smile and a bow, "Certainly, madam, it would be my pleasure."

It hadn't been cold. Only... lukewarm.

And maybe that's what was sapping her enjoyment. Skilled and handsome as he was, Artemis simply had zero emotional connection to this colt. Yes, this was fun and the environment was beautiful, and she was learning a new dance, but without a connection, it just didn't feel special.

She had hoped to be doing this with somepony she knew.

Her partner didn't have to be a fantastic dancer; that wasn't the point. The Royal Engineer had made a few missteps during the Lipizzaner Waltz, forgetting which move came after which, and Artemis had been the one to lead the recovery, but that had still felt better than this.

Even dancing with Huckleberry and his four left hooves could feel better, when he was putting confidence and effort into it.

Gosh, she might’ve almost been happier to dance with one of her own comrades; not in the romantic way, of course, but they wouldn't have been in the only mare-pair on the floor, and at least she would’ve been having fun with someone she knew.

‘Maybe I ought to start the ball rolling on connecting with this handsome stallion?’

Artemis knew that other couples around her were talking; she could hear and see them.

‘But how to break the ice?’

‘Well, momma always said you can’t go wrong with a nice compliment.’

After a quiet bridge by the woodwinds, the band started into a reprise of the marching tune's main theme, signaling an impending end to the piece. That would be her time to strike; Artemis focused on the steps as she waited for the big finale, and the pause before they started the next tune. The brass took up the theme once again, louder than the last, repeating the final notes before going quiet.

There was a brief, polite applause from the dancers and lookers-on. Artemis made sure to give her partner a warm smile. "That was lovely. You're very good at this."

His own smile was modest, but appreciative. "Thank you. Do you dance the Wheatstone Post Two-Step often?"

He knew she didn't; he was being polite. And he was very tactful in his phrasing, asking how often, instead of how many times, or how much.

Artemis shook her head gently. "Not as much as I'd like to."

He glanced over towards the orchestra; following his gaze, she saw one of the performers start to set up with a small square concertina.

Then he turned back to her.

"I think a tango will be next. Would it please you to continue, Miss...?"

"Sparkshower."

She curtsied again, and he gave the same polite bow as when she’d first met him, only this time he lifted up her right forehoof in his own. "Charmed, Miss Sparkshower. I'm Pacesetter."

‘Okay, that's step one accomplished.’

It still wasn’t enough to feel a connection, but at least now Artemis could say she’d had a good time dancing with Mister Pacesetter, instead of just a nameless colt in a white-tie tailcoat.

There was still a little time for some more talk before the next dance started. Artemis’ mister of the moment set himself up to be ready for the music. "Do you tango as often as you two-step?"

He sure doesn't waste any time. Which, she reflected, wasn't a problem; the orchestra wouldn't be around all night, and she really wanted to do some more ballroom dancing before the modern stuff began.

"More so," Artemis couldn't help but blush a bit as she sat up facing him. "Though still not as much as I'd like."

The tango wasn't exactly a popular dance in back-country Berry; she’d only been exposed to it after joining the Royal Guard and quartering closer to metropolitan Cloudsdale. She’d attended a few raucous nights out with the rest of her battalion when timing or weather just didn't work out for visiting Huckleberry.

"I'm certain,” Pacesetter began, “the orchestra will provide us a few numbers this evening before wrapping up, even though some elders still frown on it as scandalous. Is it popular in your circles?"

It took the pegasus a moment, but she realized the question he was asking wasn't about the tango. He wanted to know what society she came from — what place, and what people.

That put her on edge a bit.

A well-mannered and impeccably-dressed unicorn colt, who had been clustered with a gaggle of similarly-immaculate peers? Surely he had to be from some well-heeled Canterlot family? Maybe not major nobility, since Artemis didn't recognize the name, and he hadn’t introduced himself with a title — then again, maybe he was, since they didn't always like to flaunt it, and he might not be a direct inheritor.

‘And against that possibility, here I am, an ordinary, common soldier?’

Okay, maybe Artemis wasn’t ordinary, but she was still common — as in commoner. Would that be good enough for a gentlecolt like him? Or did it even matter, in the context of simply enjoying some dancing together? She’d heard a joke once that "you can't get somepony being you, you gotta lie to get somepony!" but that wasn't something she was prepared to do.

He was still waiting for an answer.

"I'm afraid I'm still a little new to Canterlot, so I'm not sure."

She’d decided to keep it simple; she did live in Canterlot at the moment, and she was a little new, and she hadn’t gone out ballroom dancing in Canterlot until now.

It wasn’t the whole truth of the matter, but it wasn't a lie, either.

The accordion and strings began to play their sharp-edged tune, and in a moment, Pacesetter took off with her. Artemis was a lot more familiar with these steps, and it showed. Not for a moment did she hesitate, or doubt what he wanted her to do. He picked up on it, too, and led her into more complicated moves, which she easily followed.

‘But the tango's really not that hard; even Huckleberry got it quickly.’

She glanced over towards her table, spying the tall Royal Engineer chatting with somepony on his left, but she couldn't make them out through the crowd. It was a shame he didn't feel comfortable stepping out here with her — or with anypony at all, actually. True, he'd made some mistakes in the Lipizzaner Waltz, and that was after a lot of practice, so to a certain extent, she understood his reluctance to venture out onto the floor again, untrained as he was in anything else. After all, he'd only really started dancing with ponies a couple of weeks ago.

Well, he'd said he would get up when modern nightclub-style stuff started. Artemis had that to look forward to, at least. The night was still young, and full of opportunity.

The pegasus’ partner dipped her sharply, and she couldn't help but beam with pleasure as the two of them executed the gesture without any trouble. As much as she used to get hung up about her size, and got teased about it, it wasn't like Artemis was genuinely too large to be handled by an 'ordinary' colt. Not even by a unicorn, often considered the physically 'weakest' of the three Equestrian races.

Though she had still felt obliged to select the tallest colt out of his group of doppelgangers.

That thought made Artemis glance back over towards her Very Important Pony again.

He was plenty tall enough for her.

‘What was it Lily said she'd fantasized about while she was mana-burning? Being clutched under one arm, couched against his hip, defended by his shield while she let rip with her missiles?’

It’s not quite what springs her wings, but she understood the appeal.

"Have your eye on somepony over there, Miss Sparkshower?" The unicorn in front of her had caught her looking.

‘Time for another incomplete truth.’

"Just my friends. We're watching out for each other tonight."

Pacesetter raised an eyebrow. "Is this your first Gala? I've never heard of it being anything but safe. With the exception of last year, I suppose."

Honour hadn’t mentioned anything strange happening last year, when she was on duty. She was stuck in a guardroom, though.

"You were there? What happened?"

Pacesetter sniffed a bit. "Nothing serious, just a lark with a few smashed decorations and some spilled food. They kept it out of the papers, but I dare say it livened up the mood. The Gala could use a bit more of the avant-garde." Then his eyes lit up a bit. "Will you be staying for when the musicians retire in favor of the turntables?"

It was obvious he was looking forward to that style more than this formal dancing.

"I plan to."

He knew ballroom, which meant he'd been taught, which meant he probably was from a well-to-do family of some sort. Then again, Artemis had been taught as well, and her family was definitely not well-to-do, so what did that say? He was very well-mannered, but she knew how to behave cordially as well, so that was no help in pinning him down. Nor for him to pin her down, either.

Actually, upon reflection, he hadn't actually confirmed that he'd been at the Gala last year, only that he knew what happened.

‘Oooh, hailstorms!’

Things hadn't been this complicated Tuesday night, when she was being swarmed with colts who didn't seem to care about her social status or her breeding or even that she was wearing a baroque tartan to a hip nightclub. That had really been something else, and she was still not quite sure she understood what happened.

She’d felt just... open.

Open to talk, open to flirt, open to dance, open to intimacy, open to anything.

And every colt around her had seemed to sense it.

Was it some animal instinct? Or was it some kind of subconscious alteration to her gait? Her gaze? Her posture? Her movements?

Whatever it was, it had taken a very conscious effort to hold herself back. Artemis hadn't dared allow herself to step out on the floor. If she had, she felt certain it would’ve inevitably ended up with her in bed with that colt. Maybe not even in bed; just in the washroom, beast-with-two-backing it in a toilet stall.

And she was pretty sure it wouldn't have stopped with just one.

From the way they were all coming on to her, she didn't think they were able to resist at all, either. She had wound up getting fairly physical with several of them just standing there.

'Light petting,' Cosmoponitan magazine called it.

Things progressed even to 'medium petting,' at points, even if she had shut that down quickly before things could get out of hoof.

Thundershowers, just thinking about that night sent something up her spine — and down her hind legs, too. It couldn't have just been the alcohol or the exhilaration of victory; it had to be another side-effect of her 'temporary abomination.' Just like how she had gotten sick at dawn, or had strange dreams of eating and drinking, or the way she’d been so righteously angry that she’d threatened to run Songwell through without any provocation. And while it was terrifying to feel her inhibitions drop out from under her hooves, Artemis had to admit the animal magnetism that the 'echoes' of the Accursed Shadow had bestowed on her had certainly been effective.

How many calling cards did she ultimately wind up stuffing into her belted plaid? More than enough to make any mare jealous, she was certain.

‘Imagine being able to attract colts like that anytime I wanted!’

Just ‘attract’? Or was 'lure' the better word?

Aggression, dreams of eating meat and drinking, being able to attract colts as if by magnetism? It hadn't escaped her notice that there was something predatory about all those things. Both Ignacio and Ebonshield had described Accursed Shadows as predators of a sort. Feral creatures, thriving on fear, feeding on the life of others. And, having been possessed once, even if in a controlled situation, made ponies more susceptible to being possessed again...

What would the third, the tenth, the fifteenth time look like, if Artemis kept training with Lily? How many more sessions would their unicorn teammate need to figure out exactly how to blast those horrible things out of anypony, and then completely out of this world, like a professional?

With all this running through her head, Artemis barely noticed that she was being dipped and the music had stopped. Pacesetter lifted her back up slowly, then released her and gave a bow. He looked over towards the orchestra and began to applaud. Artemis followed his gaze.

‘Wait, they're packing up?’

‘Not just the accordion-player, but the whole band?’

The conductor was inviting all the players to stand and bow, even as servants were clearing stands and papers. Just how long had she been deep in her own thoughts, pondering everything while flying through tangos like some clockwork automaton?

Still foggy coming out of the trance, she joined in the applause as well.

When that died down, Artemis’ partner turned back to her. "It's been my pleasure to dance with you this evening, Miss Sparkshower. I hope the feeling is mutual. Would you care to continue together after the changeover?"

‘Oh.’

‘He wants to keep going?’

That possibility hadn't crossed her mind at all. She had nothing against him, but what about the Royal Engineer? Honour and Eb had both cautioned her to take it slow with him.

...Although she wasn’t one hundred percent certain if Purity wasn't also talking about if she ever had to stab him. She seemed to rather intimately link sex and violence in the way that she spoke.

‘Anyways, back to Pacesetter and being honest but coy.’

"I promised somepony in my group I'd help them get warmed up on the floor to start, as they're very new here. But after the first few tracks, maybe?"

After all, why shouldn’t she keep enjoying herself with this unicorn colt? Maybe she could learn some more about him, and see what he can learn about her; and besides, she didn't want to smother Anon. Plus, hadn't Lily mentioned that envy was a powerful tool for catching a date? She could work it both ways, on Anonymous and on Pacesetter...

Then again, it could also backfire on her, if she saw Anon dancing with anyone outside of their quaternion.

‘Just have to keep my cool about it; not like when I spotted him speaking with Princess Twilight Sparkle.’

Artemis’ partner smiled and bowed again. "Certainly. I understand how the Gala floor can be intimidating." He nodded towards the same flock of colts where she’d first found him, still roosting up against the wall, in the corner of the dance floor. "If we don't find each other, make enquiries with my group there. Ask for Albert."

‘Albert Pacesetter?’

It still didn’t ring any bells, but at least now Artemis had a full name to go on. She decided to keep things on the level, and pointed back at her table. "I will, Albert. And likewise, you may ask for Artemis over there."

Like a proper gentlecolt, he lifted up her forehoof and bent to kiss it, then released and backed away with another bow, before turning to return to his gang.

‘I’d better go collect Anonymous if I want to start him off with the opening modern dance.’

Things sure did seem to move quickly at the Gala, in more ways than one — just as she'd been warned by one Lieutenant Valiant Kilfeather. It was apparent that as much as he was capable of deplorable deeds, that colt did often know what he was talking about — the Gala, the Games, combat in general...

By the time Artemis arrived back at the table, the crowds of tired, older guests had thinned out, replaced by throngs of younger ponies eager for a hipper beat. The rearmost tier of the raked orchestra stand had already been converted into a simple stage and sound booth. Hip-looking ponies with baggy pants, backwards-turned baseball caps, and rows of gold chains around their necks were already wiring up the station's equipment.

"LAAAAAAAAAAADIES AND GENTLECOLTS!" The crowd erupted into a cheer as one of them took up the microphone. "WELCOME TO THE MAIN EVENT!"

‘Hurricanes, that's loud!’

Louder than a hurricane, actually, and they hadn’t even plugged in all the speakers yet!

The pegasus stepped up besides her VIP, but before she could proposition him, he got to his feet. "Artemis, you're back just in time! I hope you didn't wear yourself out before I could punch your dance card!"

‘Perfect!’

"Not at all!"

A seat over, Lily grinned and saluted Artemis by raising her nearly-empty champagne flute. "All right! Let 'er rip, you two! Let's see some real moves! Woo!"

Purity gave her a quick nod as well, though she seemed busy scanning the room and looked about ready to bolt from her chair. Doubtless she'd already picked out her first target and was just waiting for a clear avenue of assault.

‘Gosh, she's got me thinking in stabby terms for her finding a partner, too.’

‘...Or maybe it's just the liquor.’

Honour gave Artemis a look that she couldn't really read. Then she smiled briefly.

"Have fun out there."

Artemis gave a smile in turn. "Thanks."

Before she could get another word in, the loudmouthed MC started up again with the microphone. "NOW TELL ME, ARE Y'ALL READY TO GET DOWN?"

There was a youthful cheer, and many forehooves thrown in the air.

‘No wonder all the stiff-upper-lip elder gentlecolts scrambled away so quickly. They're even dimming the chandeliers and setting up disco balls!’

Anon tossed his hat back at the table; he said something, but Artemis couldn't make it out over the crowd.

"NAW, NAW, NAW, COME ON! I CAN'T HEAR Y'ALL! I ASKED IF Y'ALL ARE READY TO GET DOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOWWWWWNNN?"

The cheer was so loud that time Artemis impulsively flattened her ears against her head to muffle it. What was that Honour had said about last year's Gala being ridiculously loud? Artemis really hoped that wasn't about to be repeated. She wanted to feel the beat, not be deafened to it!

"AWWWW YEAH!" There was a brief pause while the MC turned around behind him, only to get a hooves-up from the DJ at the discs. "YEAH, WE READY! BUT FIRST, I GOTS TA INTRODUCE SOME VERY, SPECIAL, PONIES. SO LET'S START BY GIVING IT UP FOR THE VERY LATEST ADDITION TO THE ALICORN ASSOCIATION, THE PURPLE PONY OF POWER, THE ELEMENT OF FRIENDSHIP, HER HIGHNESS PRINCESS TWILIGHT SPAARRRRRKLE!"

At his cue, the DJ blasted straight into an energetic dance tune.

Suggested background music: 2 Unlimited - "Twilight Zone" [1992]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ecrf9uoHSTc

The very alicorn that Anonymous had been speaking with appeared on-stage, stepping up next to the bowing MC. She waved to the crowd, and there was another, greatly subdued cheer of approval as people seemed more interested in starting to dance. Even the MC was starting to groove up on stage, and seeing this, Her Highness began bouncing a bit, too. It looked a little awkward, but then it got even worse when she closed her eyes, reared back, and started just flailing with her forehooves, barely in time to the beat.

Artemis wasn’t really a judgemental type, but it was terrible.

‘She must not have any rhythm at all.’

"YEAH, YEAH, YEAH, FEEL THAT BASS, YEAH!" The MC bounced around even more, encouraging her to keep going hard. They made quite a pair, off-tempo Princess and a colt with a flat-brimmed baseball hat so big it seemed like he could just tuck himself completely up into it.

To say nothing of the heaps of chains that might just weigh more than Artemis’ whole armor set, or the baggy pants that were big enough for her to use as a caparison.

‘And does he still have the shiny label sticker on his hat?’

‘Who does that?’

‘Well, at least nobody should feel awkward starting to dance after that performance.’

Finally, after following Anon through the crowd for what felt like an eternity, he managed to stake out a free square. Artemis landed on her forehooves, and immediately the Royal Engineer turned around to face her, a broad smile on his face. He started bobbing and weaving to the beat, and she joined in as well.

‘Now this is more like it!’

Their motions were unrefined, and scarcely coordinated between the two of them, and yet somehow Artemis felt a closer connection with Anon then she did with Mister Pacesetter. It would be hard to rip herself away from this to find Albert, but she’d have to do it — for her own good.

Artemis’ new bipedal partner kicked it up a notch, and his gradual abandonment of restraint was infectious. Pretty soon she found herself flailing almost as wildly as the very pony she’d just been criticizing up on stage.

Then the MC butted in again. "YEAH-YEAH-YEAH AWRIGHT! ONCE MORE FOR PRINCESS TWILIGHT!"

There was an even milder applause, mostly because everypony was too busy getting down to dance, but Anon at least stopped his arm motions to join in polite clapping, so Artemis did too.

Her Highness looked almost relieved to be leaving the stage.

The DJ mixed in a new track as the MC continued.

Suggested background music: Yello - "Oh Yeah" [1987]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6jJkdRaa04g

"AND NOW Y'ALL IT'S TIME FOR US TO GIVE THE HIGHEST OF PRAISE, THE BIGGEST OF CHEERS, THE PINNACLE OF APPRECIATION, TO THE ABSOLUTE STARS OF THE MAIN EVENT. LET'S HEAR IT FOR THEIR MAJESTIES PRINCESS CELESTIA AND PRINCESS LUNA, OHH YEAH!"

The crowd erupted in a deafening cheer, and there was some kind of commotion near the stage. Anon craned his head, his brow furrowed, before breaking out into a smile and a laugh.

Artemis turned and had to flap a couple of times to get high enough to see what was going on.

The two sister-princesses were slowly being pulled out onto the dance floor on an extravagant quadriga-style chariot drawn by four guardscolts -- two Royal Guards harnessed side-by-side with two Night Guards. It wasn’t exactly a quick procession, what with the crowd having to part ways to let the vehicle through, but Their Majesties seemed to be enjoying themselves, sitting on their haunches, smiling at the crowd, waving and poking their forehooves in time with the music.

‘They even look like they're sort of singing along; that's cute.’

The chariot finally arrived in front of the DJ booth and stopped to let the diarchs blow kisses to the MC, who playfully opened his mouth and clasped his hooves to his cheeks, then his chest, as if he couldn't believe they just did that thing which had very obviously been prearranged. After more waving to the people, they disembarked, and the chariot wheeled around to turn back the way it came.

‘Looks like this is now officially a Royal dance floor.’

Artemis saw the DJ start up another turntable and place their hoof on the fader slider, mixing in a new song. As the new beat came in, she lowered down a pair of stylish purple shades and started to groove along on-stage.

"ALL RIGHT ALL RIGHT ALL RIGHT PARTY PEOPLE, THAT'S THE ANNOUNCEMENTS, NOW LET'S GO, GALA TIME! DJ PONE-3 GO ON 'N TAKE US GRANDLY GALLOPING INTO THE NIGHT! YEAH!"

Unlike the two poppy tunes used to introduce the princesses, this one was a proper modern dance track, and it soon launched into a deep, throbbing bass. Within moments, everypony on the whole floor was bouncing along with it, Artemis and Anon included.

It was a flap up from a moment before, and finally, she really did feel high up on cumulonimbus cloud nine. Maybe not at the absolute peak — they weren’t so much dancing together as they were dancing in front of each other, but she felt connected. Anon had his eyes on her, and she had her eyes on him.

The two of them started playing with moves, throwing new twists back and forth. He’d stop and do a spin, and then she’d repeat it back. She’d rear back and wave a forehoof in the air, and in response he'd get down low, spreading his arms as if supporting her. He put his left hand out, and she matched it with her right forehoof, clasping together as she continued to dance in place. When she got up on her hind hooves and started turning again, he sidled up behind her, shadowing her foreleg motions with his arms and mirroring the turn.

‘That's nice, but it'd be better if he'd put a hand on me…’

Artemis reached a forehoof up to guide him down onto her shoulder, at least. In the heat of the moment, the crowd seemed to part around her, as if pushed away by the sheer force of her connection with this stallion. When she felt his fingers against the frog of her hoof, she closed her eyes.

"There thou art, Anonymous!"

Artemis’ eyes shot open again to find Their Majesties Princess Celestia and Princess Luna dancing just beside her, and immediately she got back down on all fours.

‘Where did the Princess of the Sun get all those carnival bead necklaces she's wearing?’

‘And when did the Princess of the Moon put on those stockings and that striped hat?’

‘For that matter, where did they both get those glow-stick hoops that they've decorated themselves with?? They had none of that when they came in on the chariot!’

Artemis suddenly realized they were both stepping along to the music, so she got back to trotting in place. Behind her, the Royal Engineer never dropped the beat, and he bowed in place.

"Your Majesties! Great party!" Then he pointed his index fingers at their hooves, extending his thumb upwards. "...And nice moves!"

Celestia shut her eyes and grooved a little bit harder. "Hah! Thanks!"

It was a bit intimidating, dancing with abandon in front of the rulers of Equestria, but Artemis started to get back into the swing of it.

Luna smirked. "Do not think thy compliments excuse the way thou blewest Us off at the rotunda!"

‘Huh?’

Perhaps noticing her confusion, Celestia leans in a bit towards Artemis and Anon. "You skipped out on our receiving line after those sailors made a scene."

Luna pushed her chin out and pursed her lips. "And such impertinent behavior from one of Our councilors of the Blue Chamber, We cannot forgive!"

It was fairly obviously a mock display — the mood was too light. Still, being accosted by the diarchs of the palace, even in jest, put Artemis a bit on the defensive.

"Terribly sorry, your Majesties. Please accept our apologies: we had to help Honour escape from her father!"

Celestia raised an eyebrow. "Escape her father? Ah, the plot thickens!"

Luna whinnied. "Only if thou continuest to visit the dessert table, sister dearest."

At that, the elder sister in question started to bounce back and forth even harder, turning to position her rear end closer to the younger sibling's muzzle. "Sorry, I can't hear anything over how much more fun I'm having than you."

Her Royal Majesty the Princess of the Moon blew a raspberry at Her Royal Majesty the Princess of the Sun. And then both proceeded to levitate their glow-rings in the air around them, raving with abandon.

Artemis looked up at the Royal Engineer, who was laughing even as he danced. Soon enough, she was fully back in the mood.

It was all a bit silly, but still wonderful.

The four of them danced all in a little group, and for a brief moment, Artemis almost saw the ceiling start to open up again into the stars, the same way it did when Luna visited in private. Then she realized that, actually, it was because a swarm of unicorns had joined the DJ on the stage, and they were using their horns to provide animated magical illumination for the dance floor. Flashing strobes, shimmering beams, colorful floods, and all manner of sparkling, glittering spotlights filled the room with ecstatic illumination, everything reflecting off of the spinning disco balls.

Artemis lost herself in the experience, dancing just for the love of life and the exhilaration of the moment; never mind trying to guide Anon's hands onto her. The DJ blended one song into another, and another.

Eventually, she remembered her pledge to Pacesetter.

‘But I’m having so much fun here and now!’

Well, at least she wouldn't be leaving Anon alone on the floor. What better company could he have than Their Majesties? And it wasn’t like he was hard to find, given how he was head-and-shoulders above everypony else but the ruling alicorns of Equestria.

Taking to the air, Artemis leaned her muzzle up against his ear. "Anon, I promised that other colt from earlier I'd see him again for a dance. Will you be alright?"

He nodded, pointing at the diarchs, then turned to speak into her ear in turn. "Sure, I'll be fine. Not like I'm alone out here! Go have fun! And don't be afraid to come back if it doesn't work out, or heck, bring him over here! This is where the real party's at, ha ha!"

It was good to hear he was having as much fun as he looked like he was having. Artemis was having fun, too. But well, it was the Gala. Much as she was interested in Anon, Artemis did need to take things slow with him, and she should really try something — or somepony — new.

‘Thundershowers, sometimes it was hard work taking the high air current!’

"I will. And I'm sure we'll dance again later tonight!"

Artemis blew him a little kiss and gave an airborne curtsy to her rulers, who barely nodded their heads in acknowledgement, understandably too busy enjoying the music to acknowledge every pony arriving or leaving.

‘Time to find Mr. Albert Pacesetter and see what sort of modern moves are in his repertoire!’

Chapter 145

Lily Glamerspear

If anypony asked her, no, Lily Glamerspear wasn’t seeing anypony right now. And she didn't think she was ready for another relationship right now, either. Which wasn’t to say that she’d say "no" to every possible proposal, just that she might have to think about it for a bit.

A colt starts chatting her up at the bar? ‘Okay, why not?’

He invites her to the dance floor? ‘Yeah, sure; that's what we’re all here for, isn't it?’

Leans in close to her nape and lays a hoof on her plot? ‘Eh, maybe, if he's cute.’ But she’d have to keep an eye out that they didn’t go too far. Lily wouldn't want anybody getting too hoofsy with her out in public on Their Majesties' Royal Dance Floor.

And if the colt suggested they sneak off somewhere more private? Well… Just as long as she didn’t think he was about to slap a ring on her.

That said, getting felt up by a charming, handsome, well-dressed and well-mannered stallion would definitely help lift this evening up from the trash-pile that that two-silver-barred, down-dirty bastard Captain Mailedhoof had dropped her into. Lily was still fuming over the fact that he dumped her over, of all things, her association with batponies. And all before she could dump HIM! That was some top-shelf, hundred-proof, weapons-grade, pure, unadulterated, 24-karat bullsh-

"What are the two of you doing still sitting down? Come on, let's get out on the dance floor!" The Royal Engineer said as he arrived back at the table.

‘Wait, the Royal Engineer's arrived back at the table?’

Honour piped up before Lily could. "What? How come you're back? Where's Artemis?"

With a smile on his face, The Royal Engineer clapped his hands and then jerked a thumb over his shoulder. "She went to find her ballroom partner from earlier. So let's go! Don't tell me the two of you are going to sit here all night?"

The thought had crossed Lily’s mind, but no, she did actually want to dance.

Honour was still stuck in the past. "She left you alone?"

‘This buckin' mare.’

Lily decided to interrupt and redirect, putting down her drink and getting to her hooves with a sly grin on her face. "Yeah, what's the matter, couldn't you find yourself a partner out there?"

Anon chuckled. "I found myself a pair of real royal beauties, sure. But Their Majesties said they needed to do the rounds before they could just dance with me all night."

Lily almost missed a step. He was dancing with not just one but BOTH Princesses? And after chatting up a third earlier in the night? Damn! Lily shook her head. "Three Princesses in one night? You sure don't waste any time!"

He started grooving in place a bit. "I guess I'm just making up for avoiding the dance floor Tuesday night. Or maybe it's the rum punch."

Their Majesties' Signature Cocktail for this year's Gala certainly did hit pretty hard. Lily had only been out drinking with the Royal Engineer once now, and he had seemed to hold his liquor fairly well, but she hadn’t exactly been keeping track of his alcohol intake so far tonight — not that it was her job to do that, at least not tonight. As she stepped over to join the still-boogieing colt, Lily gave a playful little shoulder-check into his hips. "All right, big guy, let's get out there and you can show me your moves."

He returned the hip-check against her flank, but pointed over at the brown pony with the new mane-do. "How about you, Honour?"

She shook her head, her recently-liberated flipped-up curls tossing to and fro. "Not now. Maybe in a bit. You two go."

The good Corporal seemed resigned to sit there all by her lonesome for the rest of the night. It was crazy, but Lily wasn’t her keeper; besides, she’d smoothed things over with her own partner, and the Royal Engineer put her dad in his place too, hadn’t he?

‘What's she got to mope around about, then?’

Anon nodded, too upbeat to display any potential disappointment at the moment. "Okay. But don't think I won't come back to get you later!" Grinning from ear to ear, and still bobbing and weaving to the beat, waggling his fingers in time with the music, he led Lily back towards the dance floor.

Coming up alongside him, she gave him another bump. "So, how many calling-cards have mares stuffed into your sash so far?"

He snorted. "Nothing yet, hah! Still on my case about hooking up at the Gala? Don't tell me Purity ran off to hunt someone down for me personally."

Now it was Lily’s turn to whinny. "Are you kidding? She left on her own big-game safari just seconds after you got up to dance with Artemis. I expect to see her prize trophy throwing up in our washroom tomorrow."

"Ah, I see..." The tall, tailcoat-wearing biped looked down at Lily with a sly smile. "...And what about yourself? Surely I won't be your only dance partner tonight? If Artemis has found herself a potential new beau and Purity is about to pair up, shouldn't you be on the prowl as well? Or are you already spoken for, like Honour?"

‘Oof. Talk about hitting you where it hurts right now.’

Lily kinda awkwardly chuckled. "Geez, Anon. Can't a lady have her secrets?"

He stopped for a moment, taken aback by her refusal, then shrugged. "Sorry. I just figured turnabout was fair play from earlier."

Sighing, Lily shot him a pained grimace. "It would be. It's just that I'm not in a happy place right now, relationship-wise, and the wounds are still a bit fresh."

The Royal Engineer arched his eyebrows sympathetically. "Oh, no, not you too? After Artemis had her own breakup a week ago Friday..."

Lily nodded. "Yeah. At least she's already well on the upswing. Plus, I mean — her heartbreak is way worse than mine. She'd been with Huckleberry since school." Waving a forehoof dismissively, she continued. "My break-up is of a barely three-week-old relationship. But it's about how it ended, ya know?"

Lowering his hands, Anon pushed back the sides of his coat and casually slipped his white-gloved fingers into his pockets. "I think I can imagine. Sorry to hear it. Do you need to talk?"

Shaking her head, Lily jabbed her same free hoof towards the dance floor. "Not right now, and maybe not for a while. But you don't have to worry about me, Anon. I've taken harder knock-downs than this, from better colts than him." Lowering her leg, she started up again, before turning back towards him. "...But, thanks... sir."

Lily’s Very Important Pony, who wasn't actually a pony, removed his hands from his pockets and lifted them up, presenting them to her palms-forward. "Hey, now — no formalities tonight, right?" With a grin, he stepped forward to join her. "Off to the dance-floor!"

The two of them continued to make their way through the crowds. It wasn’t as busy here amongst the dining tables as it was earlier during the main dinner service, or even during the quieter ballroom music. The DJ's amplified tunes were loud enough to force anypony who wanted to have anything like a real discourse to retreat far away from the ballroom. And as the music was no longer quite to the liking of the old blue-blooded fossils who ran Equestria, many of them had taken off as well, conversation or no. Yet there remained enough ponies to make it necessary to pick their way between tables and chairs to get around or through the crowd.

Along the way, Anon found the groove again, but when they were forced to politely stop and wait for a large party that was clearly leaving their table to depart, he piped up once more. "Okay, not trying to pry open fresh wounds here, but since you and Purity were laying into me on this topic earlier, I have to ask: what's your type? Or are you not in the mood for this stuff at all?"

That was a bit of a bombshell, considering Lily’s 'type' had just had a forceful rearrangement of the full-force-hoof-to-the-muzzle variety. Still, she supposed, after the needling she’d given Anon, maybe she owed him a quick info-dump.

‘And anyways, what's the harm?’

Inhaling, the unicorn shot him a sly glance. "Eh, I can swing it for you, boss. But let me start off by saying that you would've gotten a very different answer if you’d asked this a few days ago." Sitting back on her haunches, Lily flicked her bangs back with a forehoof. "Right now, I'm looking for a tamer kind of stallion, not some wild, unbroken buck; somepony with a good head on their shoulders, instead of one poised to go off like a rocket." She shrugged. "Physically, he doesn't have to be winning the Bronze Pony Triathlon, but I mean, I keep myself pretty fit, and he ought to keep himself pretty healthy too, even if he's maybe swinging a bit too lean or too thick.” Staring impolitely as the elderly group of ponies took their time donning their hats and coats and purses and feather boas and all sorts of other crap, Lily continued. "As for species? Honestly, I lean towards my own kind; nothing against the others, but their stallions just don't rustle me the way a handsome unicorn does."

Anon lifted an eyebrow. "You've dated a pegasus before, though?"

‘Ugh. Lieutenant Kilfeather, plot-hole extraordinaire.’

Lily nodded. "Yeah, I know. I mean, I wouldn't have seen myself falling for a fast-fighting flyboy, even back then, but I sure did..." Wrinkling up her muzzle a bit, she elaborated. "But with Val, it wasn't so much about the physical attraction — even though there was that too, I mean, he is pretty handsome, in a ladykiller kinda way — it was about the entourage; the celebrity. He'd just won the Grand Mêlée. He was on top of the world in the Royal Guard, him and his crew, and I was a wide-eyed Private who'd been granted permission to sit up there in the throne-room with them." With a snort, Lily began the end of the story. "Of course I didn't realize that to him I was just another in a long line of floozies, and he eventually treated me as such. I was young 'n' dumb, and if maybe I ain't the smartest mare around, I still learn from my mistakes. So I'm definitely not into doing anything like that ever again." A sigh escaped her lips, and her ears drooped down sideways. "Of course, having said all that I'll still probably go falling again for some hyper-aggressive ultra-stud who'll sweep me off my hooves and then inevitably break my heart taking advantage of me. Story of my life, really."

Anonymous looked down at her with concern. "It happens that often?"

As the group before them finally left and let them proceed, she answered. "...If I had a five-bit piece every time I got mistreated by an 'alpha stallion' who thought that me being theirs meant they could do whatever they wanted with me, I'd have ten bits, which isn't a lot, but it sucks that it's happened twice."

Continuing towards the dance floor, she glanced up at her tall companion. He looked a bit more subdued and deeper in thought.

‘What's on his mind?’

He couldn’t just be pondering her failed relationships.

‘Heh, is he thinking about mares for his own sake?’

Maybe she ought to have taken this approach earlier; instead of digging in and teasing him to open up, she should've bared her own tastes, desires, and experiences. Artemis, Lily was sure, would have been eventually more than happy to gush about what she found attractive with a bit of prodding. And Lily already knew what she'd say: big, strong, handsome, considerate, courageous, kind. All attributes that coincidentally matched the Royal Engineer. As for Purity, she might have looser standards, but Lily thought she would have freely chatted about them as well. Honour, though? Heck, that mare barely knew what she wanted, let alone seemed comfortable talking about it.

‘Still, three out of four guardsmares spilling their gossip-guts ain't bad.’

Chatter like that probably would have helped him get on-track with how things work around here. And speaking of how things worked, was the Royal Engineer still oblivious to Artemis' advances? Yeah, as a non-pony he hadn't noticed stuck-out tufts or wingboners or horn anteglow until Honour laid down the law to him, but surely he understood that there was some meaning to sharing an intimate close-held formal dance, or giving a kiss on the cheek, or a companion fetching him his meal? Like, that stuff had to be universal, yeah? A clever colt like him had to have an inkling at least, right?

Lily couldn’t help but wonder if she should spill some beans on that whole situation; help kick it along.

‘Maybe there's a tactful way to go about it.’

"Hey, Anon. You know what signs to look for when we're out on the dance floor, right?"

He lifted an eyebrow, raising his voice to be heard over the intensifying music. "Signs of what?"

Shooting him a sly grin, Lily nodded up ahead. "Of a mare checking you out, dummy! I'm your shield-bearer out there, ain't I?" Anon furrowed his brow, clearly unfamiliar with the unicorn expression for a friend who helped another in their pick-up game. "...You know, your wingmare?"

That got a snort and a grin out of him. The pegasus equivalent term was a lot-better known, she supposed. "Okay, 'wingmare'. Is that what I have to look out for? Signs I'm being checked out? So I can make the next move over to her — if she's my type, that is?"

‘He catches on quick.’

"Sure, why not? Most mares appreciate a little initiative." Lily pursed her lips and tilted her head. "Not to say you might not get chatted up yourself, like Little Miss Princess Purple back before dinner. Gotta keep your ears up for that, too."

She'd been cute, if a bit dweeby, but that dancing on-stage later with the MC?

Woof, and bow-wow too. Javelin: dodged.

The Royal Engineer waved a hand dismissively. "Ah, that was just a friendly talk. She's helping organize the event, and performing hostess duties."

As the two of them finally reached the edge of the dance floor and some room opened up, Lily gave him an elbow poke. "Sure, that's how it starts! Then she shows an interest, wants to hear you talk about yourself, smiles when you ask her about herself, maybe touches a hoof to your shoulder..." Lily tried to trail off suggestively, but it was too loud there to really do that.

Still, Anon seemed to get the gist. "Same as where I'm from, I guess. But is it mostly guys who take the biggest first step with ladies here, too?"

Finally finding her hooves free to dance, Lily started to bob and weave to the DJ's latest bass-heavy track before even thinking about answering her VIP. She closed her eyes for a moment and soaked the music in, feeling the beat throbbing in her chest just as much as she heard it in her ears.

‘Yeah, that's the good stuff. A proper speaker setup: no rattle, no pop, no fizzle or fuzz, just big bad BOOM 'n' BWUAAHH.’

Opening her eyes, Lily found Anon digging into the tunes as well, doing a basic left-left-right-right two-step. Okay, so he definitely didn’t have four left hooves, but she already knew that from how he did the Lipizzaner Waltz with Artemis. "It's usually colts approaching mares, yeah. Like, I dunno, eighty-twenty split? Depends on the situation, I guess."

Anon started to clap on the off-beats, rolling his shoulders as he swung.

‘All right, variations, so he's not just a bob-along-bozo.’

"So what am I looking for, here on the dance floor? Extended eye contact?"

Bobbing her plot, Lily started to swish her tail, warming up for executing a proper twirl later. "Sure. Stares, with a smile or a smolder or even a kissy-face, that's a good start. Maybe a mane flip, too, like this." The unicorn’s short bob mane-do wasn't exactly long enough for a proper flip, but she gave it her all, dipping her head down before throwing it back, and even shooting him a little come-hither tongue-pull across her upper teeth, maintaining eye contact the whole time.

Anonymous looked appropriately impressed with her maneuver. "That's quite the move. I don't think I could miss a sign like that."

Lily chuckled. "In my experience, the average colt could miss a brick hurled at their forehead."

He pointed a single finger at her, one hand at a time, flipping them back and forth with the beat. "Hey, I'm no average colt. But in my experience, the average girl — err, mare — thinks she's throwing bricks when she's barely blowing bubbles."

Eh, she could give him that. Lily had witnessed enough drunken failed attempts at flirting from her fellow members of the 'fairer' sex. Heck, she’d probably made all number of them herself, when she was younger, and especially back when she used to get a LOT drunker. Hypnotized by the beat, memories come flooding in of other depraved nights of liquor-fuelled debauchery.

Including a few with Kilfeather and company.

There was a pang of pain in her brow, and it wasn’t because anypony had tossed any bricks at her.

‘Damn.’

Lily Glamerspear was nowhere near old, but still, the safe stopping distance between 'pleasant buzz' and 'splitting headache' had noticeably shrunk since she’d graduated Private First Class.

‘It’s almost like rank is linked to alcohol tolerance.’

Total capacity isn't an issue; she’d seen cape-wearing Master Sergeants neatly stow away entire kegs in their barrel chests at the Royal Guard's Annual Ball. But finding that perfect midway spot was getting harder every year. And hard dancing isn't exactly conducive to feeling good after putting away as much drink as she had.

‘Only one solution for now, though: power through.’

Clenching her eyes shut, Lily rhythmically bounced her plot — first hard, then gradually backing off to just the right speed. The swishing feeling as her skirt rhythmically tugged on her croup told her she’d got it going on back there, and she slowly opened her eyes, turning her head slightly to admire her hoofiwork.

‘Yup, you're dancing a spinner, dancin' a spinner, it don't stop.’

Lily was turning a few heads around the floor — and why shouldn't she?

‘Spinning ain't easy, but somepony gotta do it. And at the moment that somepony is me.’

Facing back towards Anon, again with a satisfied look on her face, Lily found him doing his own rotational move, with his hands balled up into fists. With every other beat, his forearms swept out a pair of circles, while he swayed left and right, snapping his fingers and stomping his feet.

‘Damn, that's not bad. Freaking bipeds have it easy on the dance floor. Pegasi, too, since they can use their wings to rear back more easily. Well, a simple four-on-the-floor tailspin isn't all I can do. Time to take it to the next level.’

Carefully, Lily worked her forehooves back until all four of her hooves were gathered together. Then she walked her forehooves up the inside of her hind legs, squatting down slightly as she did so. It was a lot of work and hard balancing for somepony as sloshed as she was, and she was pretty sure she had ungracefully stuck out her tongue while concentrating, but she managed it.

‘Yeah that's right, everypony, two-hoofed tail-spinning!’

"Hahaha! Tailspin!"

Anonymous beamed a smile. "Oh-ee-yay! Spin it, you can win it!" But he wasn’t out of moves, either. Dispensing with the small arm swings, he started to bend his knees a bit, grinding down lower, before starting to swoop one arm while the other pumped.

‘Buck, that looks pretty good.’

By comparison, Lily was up there wobbling like a chicken.

‘Okay, spin time is over, the only way to top this colt is to go full biped.’

"Huurh!" Lily hopped up onto her hind hooves, abandoning the spin but keeping her hips moving with the beat. Closing her eyes and turning her head sideways, the unicorn slowly ran her forehooves up her flanks and then spread them high above her, swaying left and right. Her raised sandals weren't making it any easier, but at least they weren’t full pumps or stilettos.

Having achieved full extension, she opened her eyes again. Posed like that, her face almost came up to Anon's. Well, like, the top of his chest, at least. But that was almost the right height for slow-dancing together. No wonder Artemis, a considerably taller pony than Lily, was so happy dancing the Lipizzaner Waltz with him. There probably weren't a lot of stallions out there who could make an appropriately-matched couple paired with her and her earth-pony blooded 'heavy assault frame'. Which brought her back to the subject of maybe dropping a hint or two on Anon about Artemis’ attentions.

Before Lily could do that, though, the Royal Engineer showed her that his well of epic dance moves hadn't run dry, either. Showing up her mere extension, he started punching up into the sky, alternating hands across his body before drawing each back down, like he was snatching love-bricks out of the air and slipping them into his pocket. And all that was accompanied by lean-backs that would be impossible for a pony to pull off.

‘This buckin' colt. Gonna push me to the edge, huh?’

‘Okay, right! Time to show him how all the thirsty mares do it up in Manehattan, dead-ass.’

And Lily included herself in that category, back in the day.

Staying reared up on her hinds, she lowered her forehooves and started twirling them around each other in front of her. Stomping in time with the beat, she also turned in place until she was facing away from Anon.

And that's when Lily hit him with the 'thang'.

Throwing her forehooves up into the air once more, she bent over backwards so far she could actually look up at him upside-down. She had to take a step back to avoid toppling over, and she couldn't hold the pose for long, but that was the 'pee-yes-ee day reh-sis-tans,' as the Prench say. Then it was back down onto all fours, before she screwed up and ruined the whole show so far.

Anon nodded, a grin on his face. "Oh, so it's like that, huh?"

Lily shot him a sly smirk in-between steps. "Yeah. Put up or shut up, boss."

Lowering his hands, he chuckled, "Okay, but you asked for it."

As the song headed into a bridge, he paused his stepping and took a moment to adjust his cuffs and white bow tie. The instant the beat dropped, Anonymous launched into the fanciest footwork Lily had ever seen. Flapping his arms like they were wings, his feet stepped, stomped, and tapped so fast they were just a high-energy electric blur at the end of swaying knees. Lily had barely figured out what was going on before he switched it up, spinning his hands as before but shuffling sideways left and right without lifting his shoes off the floor.

‘What in the Tartar-damn—?’

Turning sideways in place, he bent his torso over, swinging his arms back and forth as he kicked the opposite foot almost straight back, exaggeratedly running in place.

‘B-B-Buckin'-huh? It's impossible!’

After a few bars like that, then he kicked it up another notch — or rather, dropped it down, flopping forward onto his hands and knees before dropping to the floor. Lily was stunned to see him ripple his whole body, flopping forward like a seal on the beach. And then he jumped back up, throwing both his arms and one foot one way and then the other.

It was the highest-energy dancing she’d ever seen! She couldn’t withstand being served this hard!

Lily’s heart sank when she saw he hadn't stopped, either, merely settling back into variations on the opening fancy footwork, still an impossible blur.

‘It's my first VIP shift all over again, with the trotting 'jog'!’

‘So much for becoming the star of the dance floor over here, I’m relegated to second fiddle.’

Lily was so stunned by this development that she couldn't do much more than a basic left-left-right-right two-step.

‘Well, maybe having Anon as the star won't be too bad. If he isn't interested in picking up a mare for himself, then that leaves the field open for me to crutch on him to attract someone of my own.’

The Royal Engineer went into some kind of private dance-trance, shutting his eyes as he worked through his routine.

‘Did Artemis seriously walk away from this?’

‘No way; she must have left to meet her formal-dance partner without having seen their VIP open up the taps.’

Anonymous paused his footsteps to start into a hips-and-knees-only groove, one hand on his head holding to a nonexistent top hat that he left back at the table half an hour ago.

‘Unf.’

Lily bit her lower lip. That was some serious body-pumping action. She wouldn't say 'no' to being on the receiving end of a little of that. Heck, she’d even take it backwards. Looking around, she saw that he was indeed getting more than a few interested glances.

‘Guh, but what about Artemis? She's my squaddie, and she called dibs on Anon.’

Yet the mare wasn’t there. She could've blown off that other partner if she'd wanted to; he probably wouldn't even have noticed. 'Say la vee', she supposed; Artemis made her choice. Now the Royal Engineer was in the crosshairs of a free-for-all. And as his loyal and faithful bodyguard, it was up to Lily to make sure he got nothing but the best.

She started to wiggle her plot once more, setting up for another spinarooni.

‘Okay, Lily, Operation Amorous-Attention-Attraction is a GO!’

‘Yeah, I’m spinnin', I’m spinnin', I’m spinnin.’

Anonymous opened his eyes, grooving in place as he watched her swish three-sixty. "I got something I've been wanting to do. Do you trust me?"

‘Buh?’

Lily went wide-eyed, still casually spinning her tail. "Uhh... Yeah?"

He nodded. "Okay, just keep doing what you're doing!"

‘What's he gonna — okay, he's next to me, squatting down, reaching one arm underneath my barrel and WHOA NELLY. I’m in the air!’

In one swift move, Anonymous, by Appointment to Their Majesties Princess Celestia and Princess Luna, The Royal Engineer of Equestria, hoisted Lily up onto his shoulder, and stood up, her tail spinning inches from his face as she faced backwards. Then he put his free hand in the air and twirled his finger. Then he started step-rotating in place as well.

‘Triple spin! It's a triple spin!’

‘Princess Celestia almighty, Princess Celestia almighty! As Celestia is my witness, he has torn this dance floor up in half!’

It was everything she’d ever drunkenly hoped and dreamed of doing, and Lily couldn't help but start to cry marely tears a little.

‘Buck, my mascara's gonna run — but chin up, Lily. The ponies gathered here, they'll all remember the night they witnessed the fabled triple spinarooni at the Grand Galloping Gala. They'll speak of this event in hushed whispers for years to come.’

Lily breathlessly whispered in-between sobs. "Just keep spinning. Just keep spinning."

Beneath her, Anonymous grunted. "Hah! I wasn't sure if this would work! Ready to go down?"

Lily would follow this stallion to Tartarus and back; at least, that's what she thought right then while the liquor was still in full effect.

Somewhat less elegantly than how he’d gotten her up in the first place, the Royal Engineer crouched down and helped Lily get her four hooves back onto solid ground again. It was all she could do just to keep spinning, managing to never drop even one rotation-per-minute.

That beautiful, handsome, powerful stallion got back up and resumed his simple opening two-hoofed two-step. "You OK? Let's take it easy for a bit and then see what else we can come up with, yeah?"

Lily was speechless; all she could do was nod with a dopey grin on her face.

‘Best night ever.’

Suggested interlude music: Martin Solveig - '+1' (feat. Sam White) [2015]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-uRi_xo92VE

Chapter 146

Honour Bound

Honour Bound was currently liquor-bound. In fact, it was fair to say that she was probably more ‘Liquor’ than ‘Honour’ at this point. Sitting before her was yet another glass of Their Royal Majesties’ Celebratory Grand Galloping Gala Rum Punch. She thought to herself that it really would be for the best if she stopped drinking for the night.

‘And what reason do I even have to be guzzling these down, anyways?’
‘I’ve already had my catharsis outside, haven’t I?’

She’d made her choice earlier to throw in with Castlerook. Her father had been put in his place, too. And she’d even found the time to deal with two threats to the Gala in the form of belligerent sailors and bloodthirsty bats. So, why was she still trying to drown out her thoughts with Their Majesties’ powerfully boozy fruit juice?

Unconsciously, Honour reached up to her wavy mane, recently restyled in the mares’ restroom, and idly twirled a lock of hair around her forehoof. She didn’t get the opportunity to do that a lot these days with her hair always gathered up in a braid — not in the way she used to. For a moment, she felt herself taken back to those younger, more innocent years. Underage, hanging out in one of the Fillydelphia dockside taverns close enough to Fort Mifflin to host the most explosive combination of drunken & bored soldiers and sailors.

‘A Stallion Full of Trouble’; what a glorious dive bar. With its small, cramped serving room and an equally small and cramped ‘sitting-room’ that had nowhere to sit. Little more than an upturned box for a tiny performers’ stand, and a full iron cage for the bar itself so that there could be no arguing after last call. How many scraps had she gotten into there, before or during her enlistment? How many times had the brawls spilled out into the street — or been forcibly pushed there by the establishment’s sorely put-upon and heavily-scarred bouncers? When there wasn’t a fight, there was always the riotous laughter, the singing along to a soldier’s march or sailor’s shanty, and the shameless flirting with anything clean-shaven and able to stand on all four hooves.

‘Oh, you did twirl your curls then, didn’t you?’

Yes, she did — even as an insecure teenager, confident that she was too boring and brown to ever catch a colt’s eye. Not that she was even seen in her natural, dull color half the time, what with all the bruises from scuffling. Honour touched a forehoof to the bump on her brow and realized that tonight was a callback to that era in more ways than one. The ‘Stallion’ wasn’t where she’d met her husband, though; in truth, she’d never heard of anypony who hooked up at that dump. Maybe it was because everypony was just there to get absolutely hammered on the cheapest swill possible.

Shortly after she’d passed the legal drinking age and made Private First Class, Honour had been inducted by her seniors into attending a slightly more upscale kind of piss-soaked watering hole. One with actual furniture — some of which was even upholstered — and more entertainment than a fiddle, fife, or squeeze-box could provide when accompanied by the percussion of hind-kick-roundhouses and forehoof-haymakers from the crowd. Sure, the drinks were more expensive, and they actually checked her ID, but as a result, Honour could usually return to base clad in her coat’s natural tones, instead of sporting a black welt accessory. She’d even managed to get halfway decent at eight-ball, before she got swept off her horseshoes to become hitched up, largely abandoning the bar for what she’d hoped would be a happy married life.

How eager she’d been to jump into that.

How quickly it had all fallen apart.

And not long after, she’d found herself galloping away from those bars, that base, and that whole damn city. Now, Honour was stationed in the capital, wearing a designer dress rather than her olive drab service uniform, sipping cocktails in place of cheap cider, dining on platters of creamy Prench pastries instead of rough bread and barley stew. She’d gone up in rank three times, got hastily married and messily divorced, switched to another department, and earned a Silver Star fighting against the Changelings.

‘Is that really all I could achieve in the seven years since I enlisted?’

Other ponies she’d known had made Sergeant, or done more with their life than just rank up in the Guard.

It was depressing.

Maybe that’s why she was still drinking.

As Honour reached a forehoof forward to lift up the elegant, short-stemmed, tulip-shaped glass with its orangey-pink concoction, the Royal Engineer arrived, throwing his jacket over the back of the next chair over and sitting down next to the mare.

“Honour! Why are you here when there’s all this dancing to be had?” With a wide, enthusiastic smile, he deftly undid his cufflinks and rolled up his sleeves, then attacked the tie at his neck, sweating profusely as he loosened it.

“Just waiting for them to play my song,” Honour replied, gesturing with her glass.

He chuckled, pouring himself a full glass of water from the pitcher on the table and chugging it down. Then he took a deep breath and sighed, leaning back into his chair.

Honour gingerly sipped her beverage. It had warmed up since it was poured; the rum was starting to overpower the juice, making its presence known. “Taking a break?”

Anonymous shook his head, spreading his arms and sucking in his cheeks. “I’ve run out of dance partners!” he said, dismissively waving a hand out in front. “Artemis left to find her formal-wear partner from earlier, Their Majesties had to go do the rounds, Purity only really stopped by briefly to show off her beau for the evening, and otherwise I’ve been dancing with Lily until moments ago, but she’s finally given up and said I’ve worn her out, quote, ‘more than a double-time hike up and down Three-Mile Hill’ — albeit, also quote, ‘not in a bad way’.”

Honour stifled a whinny. Did that mean it was now her time to step up? She had promised not to abandon him, but she hadn’t exactly gone anywhere.

The Royal Engineer glanced back and forth between Honour and her drink, before he sighed again, and leaned back in his seat. “So, what’s eating you? Didn’t you patch things up with your, ah, friend? Castlerook, wasn’t it?”

Honour nodded, slowly. “Yeah, I guess I did.”

“And your dad agreed to leave you alone for a bit, so you don’t have to worry about that any more tonight.”

Honour nodded again. “True.”

“We don’t have to worry about the batponies tonight any more, either.”

“No, we don’t.”

He paused to look her over again. “Are you hurting physically? From the fight outside?”

She shook her head. “No. There’s a bump, but it’s a dull pain, and the liquor’s keeping it under control.”

Anonymous shrugged. “So, why are you parked here, then? If you don’t feel like dancing, you could go hang out with your Mister Castlerook.”

Now it was her turn to sigh. “I don’t know. Things still feel off. I just can’t help but look back at the past.” She rolled her head to and fro. “I’ve made a lot of mistakes. Missed a lot of opportunities. I guess the regrets are still outweighing the... ‘promise of tomorrow’, or whatever you want to call it.”

Anonymous paused for a moment, then leaned forward, putting his elbows on the table and clasping his hands together. “Can I be candid with you, Honour?”

Part of her wanted to scoff and make a dismissive remark, knowing the sort of patronizing advice which inevitably followed such a question — that’s certainly what she would have done as a youth – indeed, had done so – to any authority figure trying to control her after she’d realized that her mother couldn’t control herself and that her father wouldn’t even try to stop her.

Honour was long past doing that now, especially to her Very Important Pony — who may not be a Pony, but who had demonstrated multiple times to her that he was genuinely Very Important.

She just nodded.

Unclasping his hands, Anonymous held his palms forwards to her. “This isn’t the first time I’ve seen you get consumed by regrets. You have to get over yourself. Everybody misses opportunities. Nobody has a perfect history. I’ve got plenty of things I wish I’d done, and plenty more things I sure wish I hadn’t. Do you know I had wanted to go into teaching engineering, but didn’t have the grades to make it into the doctorate program? I decided to work for a bit instead and maybe try to go back later with experience. But even though I did alright, several others in my graduating class climbed the ladder up much more quickly than I did.”

‘Wait — so he wasn’t an accomplished genius back on his world?’

Considering everything he’d managed so far here, not to mention how he’d comported himself, that revelation came as a bit of a shock.

“...And, you know, after I called off my engagement, I didn’t dream of being ‘Professor’ any more, either. That mess really broke me.” He dropped his hands to his legs in defeat. “You just have to take what life throws at you and try to catch as much of it as you can, and then move on. Sure, you can look back now and again to improve yourself, but you can’t dwell on it or spend your hours measuring your achievements up to those of others. That doesn’t do any good. I mean, look at me, here…”

Lifting his eyebrows, he glanced around the room, and for a moment, with his formal wear disheveled and his mask of intense focus removed, Honour was taken back to the moment when she’d first met him, and thought to herself just how alien he appeared. Glamerspear may have been the one to crudely voice the comparison to a monkey, but Honour had felt a not entirely dissimilar feeling, even if it had faded quickly. He wore the same clothes and spoke the same words and felt the same things and yet…

He wasn’t from here.

“This place is still foreign to me. Everything’s similar and yet so different. And at first I thought my coming here was a disaster. Of course, I was immensely grateful when I found a place – an incredible place – to fit into this world, but I didn’t see it as an opportunity, just something to knuckle down into for survival. It didn’t really start throwing me any challenges until you three showed up, and then even more when you became four. I like to think I did an okay job at handling the tribulations.”

Anonymous smiled as he continued.

“But, Honour. Corporal. You’ve handled everything this posting has thrown at you. That I’ve thrown at you. You beat Kilfeather at his own game, you learned to drive, educated me in Equestrian culture and custom, helped teach me how to fight, put on a fantastic demonstration for the upper crust of the Equestrian government and military, taken us into the darkest depths of an alien society, and fended off an ambush by some of their finest warriors. You’re one of the most adaptable and capable creatures I’ve ever met.” He held out a hand, as if asking for her forehoof. She didn’t know what else to do, so she gave it to him, and he closed his fingers around it, then placed his other hand gently on top. “Maybe you’re not happy with where you’ve been or where you’re at right now, but I promise you: if you can shut away your regrets for long enough to face the future with a clear head, there’s a world of opportunity opening up before you that will more than make up for whatever failures you believe you had before, and I’ll do everything I can to help you seize it all.”

It wasn’t a bad speech. She even felt a little inspired.

Swallowing, Honour withdrew her forehoof. “You going to get me promoted to Sergeant, sir?”

Ignoring her switch back to formality, he threw his hands into the air with excitement. “Demonstrating the Whirlwind can do that! Or participating in the MXP Games! Or all the work you’ve done with the batponies! I may not know about how the military works here, but hell, with everything that’s happened so far? I bet I could recommend you for a promotion tomorrow morning, and you’d receive it in the afternoon. And then maybe you can finally look forward to what comes after.”

Honour couldn’t help but feel a little uplifted from his infectious smile and energy. “That would be Staff Sergeant,” she deadpanned.

He snorted, “Hah, of course! But for now, how about you set your sights on an achievement that’s immediately within your grasp?”

‘This sounds like the setup for a bad pick-up line.’

Honour pushed herself back slightly, searching his expression. “What’s that?”

The Royal Engineer of Equestria, with his bow-tie loose around his neck and his collar open, his cuffs folded back and his vest unbuttoned and open, and noticeable dampness under his arms, didn’t miss a beat. “Have a good damn time tonight here at the Gala. I don’t even care how, but I can think of a few ways, if you’re stumped for ideas.”

Well, it wasn’t much of a hook, but it’d do. It was obvious from his energy that he was champing at the bit to get back on the dance floor, anyway.

As Honour paused for a moment to ponder just what she ought to do when she got back to her hooves, a familiar tune started to blare from the dance floor. It was the intro to an old, cheesy hit that she’d almost be embarrassed to say she used to love to dance to, except it was a great song, and everybody else danced to it back then — and still did now.

This surely signaled the start of a set of similarly goofy throwback tracks that were more towards Honour’s era.

‘May as well see what our VIP can do, if he’s managed to wear out party-mare Glamerspear, ‘not in a bad way’.’

“You up for more dancing, sir?”

He grinned. “Absolutely!”

In the time it took her to knock back her drink, clamber out of her seat, and get down onto her hooves, Anonymous had made himself presentable again. The jacket stayed off, but he’d donned his top hat once more, and with everything else done up and his red officeholder’s sash layered over top, he looked like a dashing warmblooded light-charger out of one of the historical battlefield paintings in the palace’s portrait hall.

‘Or maybe something a little more modern…’

A dapper rum-running gangster from Prohibition-era Manehattan? Without the pomade or the baggy trousers, though.

Anonymous tipped his hat and gestured graciously for Honour to head over first. She started toward the dance floor but turned to call back to him over her shoulder — though her poofy red shawl did manage to get in the way a bit. “I must’ve missed a real show earlier if you managed to wear out Lily already.”

“She said something about our ‘triple spinarooni’ being the best move she’s ever done?”

‘’Our’? What kind of dancing have those two been up to out here, exactly?’

‘And what kind am I in for now?’

Honour furrowed her brow and faced forwards. The dance floor didn’t seem to have changed much since she’d last looked over it, when they’d first opened to modern music. There was the stage with the ‘hype colt’ MC, who was still doing his best to inject energy while the DJ held a headphone up to one ear as she bobbed left and right, working the controls. Flashing strobes, colored washes, and a pair of glittering, reflective balls casting rotating dots managed a respectable nightclub setup. And the speakers were plentiful, loud, and well-tuned, with deep bass that Honour felt in her ribcage. It wasn’t her scene — not anymore, if it ever really was — but she still appreciated the quality and effort. Most of the places they’d gone on Tuesday night had superior setups, but none of them had the glitz of the Gala.

A sudden vertical movement caught her eye.

‘Is that a pony trying to climb up a Maypole?’

‘No, it couldn’t be.’

The maypoles were outside, thick, and wooden. This was brass, and narrow enough for the drunken reveler to try to wrap their hind legs around. It was a portable dance pole: freestanding, with a wide padded base to accommodate amateurs.

‘When did they haul this out?’

Honour glanced the other way and saw there was another, identical model on the other side as well.

From behind, Anonymous noticed her gaze, raising his voice to almost a shout to be heard over the din. “You didn’t see when they brought those out a little while ago? Even had some pros to demonstrate, then the MC ran a game singling out showboaters on the floor and encouraging them to give a try on a pole. Couple of guests made decent attempts; Lily said she wasn’t in the mood to be public tonight or she would’ve got up; I was almost tempted. Laughs and applause all around. That MC’s pretty good at keeping the show going, actually.”

Honour sighed, though there was no way he could hear it. “Would you believe I took lessons for a bit?”

“Really? If you still remember the moves, you should get up there and take point, ‘Sergeant’!”

Shaking her head, she pushed out onto the floor, no longer nearly as crowded as when Anonymous and Artemis had come up to dance at the start, or even when he’d gone back to grab Lily. Honour grimaced. Even with panties on underneath and a shawl on top, and despite getting into a barehoofed brawl in it, she was still very self-conscious about the incredibly lascivious dress. It would take a very particular state of mind to get her up and pole-dancing in front of the remaining crowd at the Grand Galloping Gala.

“Maybe if the right track comes on,” she said. “And if I’m feeling warmed up.” Having reached a free spot, Honour turned to face her VIP.

With a smirk, he started bobbing to the beat. “You need to get warmed up? Let’s get hot, then!”

Laughing, she shook her head and waggled a forehoof as she started to weave to the music as well. “Nuh-uh! That’s a different song. Listen!”

Suggested background music: Get Low (Dillon Francis & DJ Snake) [2014]
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7nUdHAVSLr4

When the main hook started, Honour surprised even herself, launching into the song with abandon — and she was privately happy to see her VIP do the same.

‘If I look ridiculous, at least I look ridiculous next to someone far more conspicuous than me.’

Up on the stage behind them, the DJ had cut out the track’s original vocals in favor of the MC speaking them live, injecting the vitality of immediate performance into the playback. While Honour was a bit rusty and out of practice, Anonymous was clearly running at full steam, having had almost the whole evening to warm up, busting out a repertoire of energetic moves in perfect sync with the beat. It was almost intimidating how agile he could be when not in a formal setting, or wearing heavy minotaur bronze armor. And he could still be pretty swift in his protective covers; Honour remembered how he ran her down in the sandpit practice.

Frowning for a moment in-between steps, Honour realized she really ought to take his advice and look forward, not back.

‘Think instead about how he’ll do with that gear in the Games.’
‘How his steam-powered carriage will work.’
‘How you’ll do.’
‘How the whole team’ll do.’

They couldn’t expect a podium finish; there were too many other teams with accomplished warriors that had been training for it all year. Honour, Anonymous, and the others, on the other hoof, have only known each other for a few weeks; even less in the case of Purity. But hopefully a decent performance, combined with the novelty of a mixed group and the Whirlwind itself, would elevate them to the middle of the pack instead of being relegated to the rear. Taking fifth or sixth out of eight would still be an accomplishment, especially if Lily did a good job demonstrating how the Whirlwind could sweep the skies. Purity, even though she was more of a solo performer than a team fighter, had the skills to elevate them that high, surely. And Artemis with that rocket-lance ought to be a smash hit, if the battle in the Grand Hall of Stars was anything to go by. They all still had a lot of training to do, and that day would be absolutely exhausting, but it was something to look forward to.

And, who could say? If Anonymous wasn’t able to get Honour that promotion right now — assuming he was serious about trying to use his influence to bump her up, rather than drunkenly boasting — surely the prestige of raising the Canterlot Palace Military Office’s VIP Section banner at the Games would provide enough career recognition for an impromptu review and advancement. At least then she could head back to Filly’ and meet Castlerook eye-to-eye on level ground.

Honour whinnied to herself. Maybe even becoming Sergeant Bound would be enough to get Leeward off her back, if Anonymous’ impassioned speech earlier and Alexander’s scheduled sermon later didn’t do the trick. Wasn’t a bosun to a ship’s crew what a sergeant was to a platoon? That was worth the pay bump up from Corporal alone.

Energized by thoughts of a promising future, she found herself letting loose, even allowing her shawl to slip a bit, showing off more of the scandalous red dress underneath. She really shouldn’t have brought the thing out here; her VIP wasn’t wearing his jacket, after all. Looking around, Honour realized that she was hardly in poor company when it came to plot-revealing outfits: plenty of mares around were shaking everything their dame gave them with little more than their tails to cover the underneath. The music was too good and she was in too good of a mood to want to head back to the table to drop it off. And she couldn’t just hoof it to Anonymous, even though that’s how it’s supposed to work, between colt and mare on the dance floor.

‘Except we’re not ‘colt and mare’.’

Putting it out of her mind, Honour let her thoughts drift back to the future, but she didn’t get far before another, very familiar beat started to fade in on the preceding classic beat.

‘Oh no, they aren’t, are they?’

‘Oh, Celestia, they are.’

It was that song.

The one she’d rehearsed to for a month for her recital.

Her recital for that course.

‘Of all the eclectic, experimental selection of hobbies and interests I’d spun through to ‘find myself’ after the divorce, why’d this one have to come up, here and now?’

Well, there was no sense in wasting what she’d learned: both poles were presently empty, and her dress was about as form-fitting as her leotard was back then.

“Alright. I’m warmed up.”

Recommended background music: Naughty Girl (Beyoncé) [2003]
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LRQqwNWQIN0

Anonymous was surprised, but he didn’t think for more than a half-moment before following her over to the brass pole. Honour wondered if she still remembered how to do this properly or if she was about to fall flat on her plot.

It was a good thing the routine started slowly, on just her hind hooves.

Stepping onto the base, she reared up and steadied herself against the pole with a forehoof held high, starting to bob in time with the building beat, as her dress-tassels and furry shawl bounced along with her mane and tail. Already, quite a few of the immediately surrounding eyes were on her, as the newest amateur aspirant.

‘Wait for it…’

At the fourth bar, she started to strut around in a circle to the tempo. It was encouraging that she’d managed to keep perfectly steady on her hind hooves; doing it in slippers rather than heels certainly helped. The intro act got her a couple of hoots of encouragement from the little pocket of nearby dancers.

When the lyrics started eight bars later, Honour stopped and shook off the shawl, kicking it over to Anonymous, who caught it without hesitation in one hand, to a scattering of spectators’ cheers and whistles. He was standing close enough to reach out and hold her, if she needed help, which was a little reassuring. And now that she was set up, he continued his own routine in support of her own, acting like a back-up dancer in a live show. The half-a-hoof of extra height provided by the padded base actually brought her up as high as Artemis was when she was dancing the Lipizzaner with him. Anon’s active presence nearby actually made Honour’s heart race a bit more than the public exhibition already did. But surely he wouldn’t want to remain with her in the spotlight once she really started embarrassing herself.

Honour shut her eyes momentarily in concentration.

‘Now, can I still climb this thing and hold on…’

Lily Glamerspear

Lily’s legs were wobbly; wobblier than she thought they’d ever been in her whole life. And it wasn’t the booze.

Well, it was partially the booze.

But never mind galloping for eight hours straight — the Royal Engineer dancing at full tilt for an hour and a half was enough to knock the unicorn off her hooves. Still, she supposed, it wasn’t all bad. Lily felt the groove overtaking her; it was a good pain. She was going to be sore as all buck tomorrow, but so what? She had the day off. Besides, that’s how her assignment had been going since the beginning, and she certainly wouldn’t trade it for any other boring regular posting. Where else would she have gotten to do all this stuff, including attending the Grand Galloping Gala?

‘Now, back to enjoying one of the simplest privileges of said Gala.’

“Another Manehattan. And gimme a cherry with the stem still on it. Longest stem you got.”
She only got a polite nod in response from the bartender, but it was late and loud and the bar was still pretty busy, even if there were a few free stools now. Of course, it was only a temporary installation, but there’s just something about being able to sit down at a high table and admire a wall of liquor with some well-dressed ponies who would mix you up whatever you wanted from it. Lily had had enough fruity rum for the evening, and she was going back to an old faithful, named for her hometown, no less.

And the cherry on top was the cherry on top.

She had some plans for that; plans involving the unescorted pair of bucks chatting to each other a few seats down. Yeah, maybe she wasn’t looking for a coltfriend right now, and maybe she wasn’t likely to horizontally mambo with a stallion tonight — not with how her hooves felt after all that dancing. But she could still have some fun and show off to a pair of studs. Besides, it’d boost her self-confidence after Mailedhoof dumpstered it earlier in the evening when he chucked her out over her association with Purity.

‘Yeah, that’s right, colts, look over here, check out the real deal.’

Lily’s cocktail arrived with the harpooned cherry just where she wanted it.

‘Time to hit ‘em with the ol’ tongue twister.’

Keeping her eyes fixed over on them, she snapped the stem off and stuck her tongue out, deliberately avoiding the use of her magic — ‘no cheating!’ — as she dropped it in place. One of them elbowed the other, and they looked over her way, clearly interested.

‘Okay, now poke your tongue to the roof of your mouth to bend it in half, bite down to hold the middle, cross the ends, and — hey, what the buck?’

The other one elbowed his mate back, pointing away past Lily, and the two of them craned their necks to behold something new on the dance floor.

‘Okay, who the buck has the absolute teats to upstage me while I’m cherry-knotting?’

Infuriated, but still holding the stem in place, she spun around to find the target of the colts’ attention. When Lily saw it for herself, her eyes went wide and the cherry-stem dropped from her open mouth to the floor.

Purity Ebonshield

This was the best nightclub she’d ever been in. Never mind the excellent music at ‘The Stables’, the dazzling lights at ‘Tapestry’, the stylish furniture at ‘The Mad Ox’, or the raw, youthful energy of ‘Earthquake’; here at the Grand Galloping Gala, this was everything Purity had expected, dreamed, imagined, hoped, and wished for. All that, and she could still ‘hang out’ with her companions so dear! A shame her Gilbert did not have an invite, but he was only a student, after all. She might have perhaps asked for one on his behalf, but she did not wish to impose on her VIP or give her paramour the wrong impression. She was merely his teacher for the moment; she could never be his long-term lover.

‘Best to take breaks now and again to make that relationship clear.’

Tonight she was dancing with somepony else instead. He was a little older, true, but still youthful enough for Purity to initiate. And what beautiful movements he could make with his feathered wings! It made her jealous that hers were leathery, even though they had never let her down.

Had the Great Mother known her Children would be envious of the handsome pegasi when they were at last reunited with their Equestrian kin? As much as she was pleased that the prospect of fighting was no more, and that her Creator had peacefully reunited with Her divine sister, part of Purity wondered what plan, if any, Nightmare Moon had had in mind if She and Her Children of the League of Stars had emerged victorious when She returned. Purity had been certain that her own mother, Carmen, would have pushed for racial ‘purity’ and the prohibition of interbreeding, at least up until the inebriated confessional earlier tonight. It was hard to believe she could really have changed her mind, but then again, Carmen was nothing if not opportunistic.

The music became sultrier, and Purity closed in tight around her partner, wrapping her wings around his body and nuzzling into the crook of his feathered wing, up against his paisley-patterned golden vest and crisp white shirt.

No wonder her Very Important Pony stated that he found feathers interesting; perhaps she should not have jumped at the prospect of a unicorn for her first Equestrian coupling. But Gilbert was a very interesting partner in his own right, and had taught her so many things about Equestrian customs and culture.

“Whoa, someone’s on the pole now, and they’re really working it. You ought to get up next and show what you can do, Miss Purity.”

She inhaled deeply, taking in the strange, foreign scent of preening oil. “Mmm, I told you already, my sweet Paget, I am not here to show off.” He curled his powerful wing-arm around her, surrounding her head with feathers.

‘What a delightful feeling!’

“Yeah, but she’s the best so far. You said you were a professional acrobat, didn’t you?”

A little lie, but technically true.

“Ahh... You really wish me to demonstrate in public? Don’t you want to keep me for yourself?”

He hugged her a little tighter, and nuzzled down against her neck, speaking into her ear. “Nopony’s going to believe I danced with a batpony gymnast if I’m the only one who saw you tonight.”

Purity chuckled. “Is that all I am? A trophy? A conquest?”

He whinnied softly, nibbling at her nape. “I don’t think anypony could conquer you, Miss Purity.”

After taking a moment to revel in the feeling, she lifted her head up and opened her eyes. “Let us see, then, this performer who has taken your attention away from me.”

It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the brilliant flashing lights. But when she saw the mare, the only thing she could think was:

‘Those are not among the moves of the Temple of the Shining Stellar Dance that I taught to comrade Honoria.’

Artemis Sparkshower

It was a beautiful night out. Artemis was a little less enthused with the reason why she was outside. Albert Pacesetter, in a development sadly not at all out of character for somepony from the upper crust of Canterlot society, was a smoker. The two of them had had quite some time dancing happily together so far, and when he invited her to head out onto a balcony for a moment to ‘get some fresh air’, the thought of it being for tobacco hadn’t even crossed her mind. Things got a bit awkward, at least from Artemis’ perspective, when, upon reaching the balcony edge, he telekinetically pulled a polished silver cigarette-case out of his breast pocket and offered her one of the crisp little white cylinders with three decorative gold bands, which she’d declined. He must not have lit up before dinner, or she probably would have picked up on it during their tango or two-step. Then again, she’d had her head so high up in the stratosphere that perhaps she wouldn’t have noticed, and there had been enough ambient odors in the hall that it might’ve been impossible to place it on him in particular.

Well, nopony was perfect.

And anyways, it’s not like she was about to propose, or anything like that. There were no strings being attached here. He was just a gateway to a pleasant evening, which Artemis had indeed enjoyed so far, and which she looked forward to continuing to enjoy once her partner finished his smoke break, just like the dozens of other ponies out here on the balconies, indulging in their vice.

Pacesetter blew a plume of smoke out and away from her, then extracted a small, silver canister from another pocket and stubbed the cigarette-butt out in it. “I do apologize, Miss Sparkshower. It’s a terrible habit. I’m afraid it’s quite impossible to avoid amongst my peers, however.”

“Unfortunately, I can say the same is true in my circles as well.” After all, what proportion of Equestria’s ordinary rank-and-file Guardsponies smoked like chimneys when they were off-duty if there was nothing better to do? Half? Two thirds? It was a lot. Being out of barracks and in the palace proper at least meant Artemis got away from the smoke. And she was happy her VIP didn’t imbibe either. But there the two of them stood, Artemis still being coy about her own social situation while trying to suss out that of the other.

That was almost a bigger frustration than the smoking.

“But you have managed to abstain where I succumbed. It is true what they say that the fairer sex is also the ultimately stronger one. I hope we may continue our merrymaking tonight together in spite of this difference.”

She smiled. “I’d like to.”

Pacesetter bowed his head. “Thank you. I promise no further interruptions. But shall we gaze upon the stars before returning inside?”

“I’d like that, too.”

Rising back up, he nodded his head up towards a spot in the sky, away from the palace. “Splendid. Do you know any astronomy? The constellation ‘Cygnus’, ‘The Swan’, is spectacularly visible at this moment.”

‘Oh, stars! I love stars!’

That was one of her best courses in recon training. The trick would be to share what she knew without making it clear why she knew how to astronavigate.

‘So the game continues…’

Honour Bound

Honour was about to collapse. Her thighs were not up to clamping onto a pole like this anymore. And hanging upside-down with a gut full of liquor was a really bad idea.

‘Why’d I have to design this routine to end with a ‘Jasmine’ straight-leg inversion, slowly rotating around the pole?’

Now she was stuck there, unable to loosen her hindlegs just that little bit to either slide down gracefully (as she was supposed to) or to bend back up to seize the pole with her forehooves. All she could do now is crash down when everything gave out in another second...

Just before that moment came, she felt firm hands come up against her spine to support her weight. It was Anonymous, but she wouldn’t have cared if it was a demon from Tartarus. Transferring her weight to him let Honour release her grip on the pole and she tried, as delicately as she could, to lift her back and put her hind hooves on the ground again. She wobbled for a moment, but her dance partner kept his hands on her, shifting his grip to her flanks and barrel. Honour was panting, there was foam at her neck, and she felt like she’d drenched that scandalously elegant dress of hers in sweat.

“Easy there,” he said, in a soft, reassuring tone.

“AY, YO, Y’ALL, GIVE IT UP FOR MISSY BROWN OVER THERE IN THE RED FOR THAT TRIPLE-A PROFESSIONAL SHOW JUST NOW, AM I RIGHT? YYYYEAH!” That amplified holler from the MC was rather less reassuring, though Honour had to admit that the few moments of applause and cheers had made for a nice conclusion as she finally got back down on all fours. But she was definitely done for now.

“I need to sit down, away from the crowd.”

“Sure. Over here.” The Royal Engineer put on his broadest public smile and waved a bit in farewell to the audience, who quickly got back to partying, as he escorted her past the dinner tables and over through a doorway into the ‘Carousel Room’, so named for the enormous painting of an oval carriage race covering one of the walls. Here, there were a few club chairs and coffee tables, and since there was no bar or drinks station nearby, it wasn’t very busy.

Honour’s VIP set her down in one of the seats and then squatted so low in front of her that she actually had to look down a bit to see his face. “You need anything? Glass of water? Something stronger?”

She shook her head. “No. Just a moment to rest.”

He nodded, and watched as she caught her breath. He licked his lips, glancing back towards the dance floor and brass pole. “You looked like you were about to collapse at the end.”

She nodded. “I was. It’s been a while. I haven’t practiced in a couple of years...” She looked down at the floor, shaking her head. “...I don’t know what I was thinking. The rum punch must really be in the driver’s seat for me to make a fool of myself like that.”

Anonymous sighed. “Hey. What’d I tell you?” Gently taking up her forehooves in his hands, he continued. “You can’t keep putting yourself down like that. I sure didn’t see a fool out there. You were so fantastic, I had trouble keeping up with you. Do you want to know what I did see?”

Swallowing, she looked up into his eyes.

“I saw an amazing performance put on by a gorgeous g—” He choked off a word, but she barely noticed the interruption. “A gorgeous mare, with a stunning mane, in an exquisite dress.” Then, he lifted her forehoof up to his mouth and kissed it softly. “You’re beautiful, Honour. I can see it. Anybody who can’t is completely blind.”

‘He…’

‘The…’

‘It…’

She thought she was about to fall over, even though she was already sitting down.

An eternity passed before she took her next breath. And she still didn’t know what to say in reply.

“I...” It took an act of willpower to shut her eyes and break away from his gaze for even a moment. “...Maybe I will take that glass of water after all.”

Anonymous nodded. “Okay.” He gently guided her forehooves back onto the seat in front of her haunches, and then got up. “Don’t go anywhere. I’ll be right back.”

Honour was completely stunned; she couldn’t have moved a muscle if she wanted to. It was a miracle she hadn’t toppled to the floor. There was a pounding in her chest and in her head, and it wasn’t the bass drum from the dance music.

Before she could even put two thoughts together, he was back with the water. With her mind a blur, she took it and drank it all down. And when he squatted down in front of her to take the empty cup away, she couldn’t help but be captivated by his eyes again.

“Better?”

She felt herself nodding.

He nodded, tenderly. “Okay.” He bobbed his head back towards the dance floor. “Are you done for the night, or are you still up for some more dancing? The regular kind, I mean.”

She found herself scooting forwards, hind hooves touching the ground, followed by fore. “Yeah...” He stood up beside her, and she found herself swishing her tail in anticipation. “Yeah, we can keep going.”

Finally, real breathing returned to her, and she inhaled deeply, swelling her chest with a strange and unfamiliar kind of confidence and determination. “We can keep going all night. They’ll have to drive us out with spears and javelins.”

She looked up, and the Royal Engineer smiled down at her. “All right! Let’s wreck the joint!”

And with that, Honour accompanied her Very Important Pony back to the dance floor.

Suggested interlude music: Lady In Red (Chris De Burgh) [1986]
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=T9Jcs45GhxU

Chapter 147

Honour Bound

Corporal Honour Bound awoke to the sun shining on her face.

‘Why is it so bright this early in the morning? It’s only spring, damn it.’

Her eyes wanted to open in reaction to the light, even if the rest of her just wanted to get back to sleep. With a low groan, she found herself squinting and blinking into blindingly low-angle morning rays that were, mercifully, at least coming in slightly from the side instead of fully head-on. It took a supreme effort of logical processing to realize she could just bring a hoof up and mask out the visual intrusion, and greater effort still to commit to moving a limp foreleg up in front of her muzzle. Plopping it down roughly, Honour found herself sinking back into blissful deep sleep.

Except… something felt off, and it wasn’t just the sun’s radiant warmth beaming onto her. In her haze, it took an eternity of dipping in and out of consciousness to process even the most basic of input signals. Finally, scrunching her eyes closed as hard as she could, she reached back down to find her covers.

There was nothing there.

‘Buck, did I just pass out directly on top of everything last night?’

She scratched her hoof against the bed underneath her, hoping to dislodge the sheets and eventually wriggle and squirm her way underneath. But there was nothing there – no slack fabric of a blanket or sheet. She slowly came to realize it wasn’t even very soft.

‘Am I even in my bed?’

‘Did I pass out on the couch?’

More moments passed, drifting between wakefulness and slumber.

‘The shared couch is pretty soft, though; not firm like this…’

‘And there’s…’

Her train of thought was suspended by another blissful collapse into sleep.

‘Wait…’

‘There’s no window in the common area of our quarters.’

‘Where am I?’

It was then that she forced her eyes open, grunting as she faced the detested sunbeams.

‘That’s a huge window it’s all coming in through.’

Honour glanced down and saw she was, in fact, on a sofa, just not the plain and low Lawson-style one from her room. It was an elegant Chesterfield, in blue upholstery with white diamond pleats.

‘But where’ve I seen one of these before?’

A vision of a scene started to materialize in her hungover head. A long, royal-blue sofa, with three sitting chairs in the same fashion, all arranged around a large, round coffee table...

Honour’s breathing stopped and her heart skipped a beat and her eyes opened wide.

She was in the Royal Engineer’s chambers. She was lying on his sofa, facing his window. And now that she’d been shocked awake, she began to notice the limp weight across her barrel, the steady movements at her back, and the slow, regular movement of air rustling her mane.

‘The Royal Engineer is right behind me.’

‘Lying on the sofa.’

‘The sofa I’m on.’

Swallowing, she hesitantly turned and lifted her head to look. He was right there, passed out behind her, with his arm draped over her.

‘I’m being spooned by my VIP.’

To Honour’s relief, he was still dressed in his shirt and pants; his jacket had been thrown over the far armrest, though his vest was nowhere to be seen. She, meanwhile, was still wearing her dress and her panties. The shawl had been tossed next to his tailcoat. Part of her was relieved at the evidence pointing to nothing having happened between them, besides passing out together on the same couch.

The other part was starting to panic at the fact that she was still there.

Lowering her head back down to face forward once more, she tried to think. She remembered escorting him back to his chambers...

‘Or had he been escorting me?’

Both of them had been pretty wasted, not to mention exhausted.

‘What time did the dancing finally stop?’

She remembered staying to the very end; they were clearing the table linens by the time Anon retrieved his jacket from his seat. It was still dark outside at the time, Honour was certain. Three in the morning? Maybe four? There was hardly anypony left on the dance floor when they called it a wrap. There were hardly any guests left at the Gala at all, in fact. They almost did have to chase the two of them out at sword-point, just like Honour had boasted they would last night.

And...

And she remembered what he had said to her just before that. She remembered how it made her feel.

‘Oh…’

‘I need to get out of here.’

There was nothing for it but to slip away and hope he didn’t wake up. Cautiously, she slid her hind legs out and lowered her hooves to the ground; then, in a smooth motion, she slowly rolled away from her VIP and onto the floor. It shouldn’t have been easy to stand after last night, but the adrenaline somehow let her do it without falling over. Looking back, she saw that the Royal Engineer was still completely out, his arm and hand now lying on the sofa instead of her.

‘His hand…’

She remembered going to sleep with a reassuring grip around her barrel. And before that, how his fingers stroked her coat.

Her left ear twitched with the memory of him nuzzling into it.

Taking a deep breath and swallowing, she stepped lightly over to grab her shawl, picking it up with her mouth; she wasn’t willing to risk two-legged movement. Turning around, she slowly crept over to his door and gingerly depressed the lever handle. There was neither squeak nor creak when she pulled the door open.

‘Celestia bless the caretakers who kept all the Palace’s locks and hinges well-oiled, and bless Her decorators who put plush, sound-deadening carpeting in every hallway.‘

Thanks to them, Honour’s early-morning escape from the tender clutches of her VIP was completely silent. Looking up and down the corridor, she saw that her flight from his chambers would also go unwitnessed.

‘Bless the Chamberlain who placed the Royal Engineer’s chambers in the out-of-the-way south annex of the out-of-the-way west wing.’

After this brief pause of silent thanks, she set off at a trot that she blearily endeavored to make appear nonchalant, making for the staircase to the servants’ second floor. Up there, the risk of running into somepony was greater, since there were ponies quartered everywhere – but what would they see? A fellow serving-pony returning from wherever they’d spent the night, which could have been anywhere. The feeling of panic started to dissipate once she reached the stairs.

‘It’s okay; it’ll be alright. You only slept on the sofa with your VIP.’

‘So we cuddled a little; it wasn’t anything significant. Just two drunk, tired partygoers collapsing onto the nearest horizontal surface after an evening of singing and dancing.’

‘Singing…’

Somehow, he’d known the lyrics to one of her favorite old melancholy pop hits. Was it similar to a song where he’d come from? Or had he heard it in one of the nightclubs they’d visited earlier in the week? Maybe he had even gotten most of the words wrong; she might’ve been too drunk to notice. Either way, she remembered being thrilled that he had the self-confidence to sing along, and that made her want to sing with him. Which she did.

‘I don’t know why you don’t care.’

She remembered dancing closely.

‘You take all my love, but you’re not there.’

Very closely.

‘What is wrong and what is right?’

Her hoofsteps up slowed to a crawl and she closed her eyes.

‘Give me a sign.’

She’d given him a sign, alright. Never mind floofing out tuft, or popping wings, or leaking mana from a horn. All the booze from last night hadn’t suppressed the memory of Honour grinding her tail and plot right up against the Royal Engineer for most of that song — and much of the next. And he hadn’t resisted or pulled away; rather, he’d gotten into it, leaning down and back, swaying left and right opposite her motions, elevating her drunken attempt at a flirtatious groping into a provocative, sensual dance.

She stopped in place.

Whatever else had conspired to leave her sleeping in his arms on his sofa, Honour remembered one thing clearly:

She had wanted it.

That realization brought Honour to a dead stop at the top of the stairs. Sitting down on her haunches, she reached a hoof up to her brow. Her mouth opened limply, releasing her shawl onto the floor. It took her a while to catch her breath.

‘Celestia.’

‘You really messed things up this time, Honour.’

Never mind panicking over the potential embarrassment from being found sleeping with her VIP; now, a deeper fear set in from her betrayal of her relationship with Castlerook. What would he have said if he’d seen what she’d done? What would he say if word got to him?

And what would he do?

All after she’d just reconciled and made grand plans for the future.

Honour shut her eyes, and a couple of lonely tears dribbled out. It wasn’t just him she’d gone and hurt, either. So much for Sparkshower’s ambitions to pursue a new relationship. And so much for that advice to take things slow. The pegasus had cooled things down after the hot ending to her Lipizzaner Waltz with the Royal Engineer, and largely avoided smothering him with attention or affection at the dining table. Presumably, she’d gone and had a proper and congenial evening with that high-society colt she’d just met. And what had Honour, the gutter-trash underachiever from Fillydelphia, gone and done? Only smashed her plot up against his gear in the crudest way possible without somehow being obscene.

‘So, good job, Honour: a double disaster in one evening.’

Triple, if Anonymous hadn’t blacked out like after Tuesday night’s club crawl.

Truly a buck-up worthy of the Grand Galloping Gala.

‘Damn it all to Tartarus…’

He’d even spoken about getting her bumped up to sergeant just before they hit the dance floor! What if he thinks she was engaged in plot-for-promotion trading, and reports it? Or what if he really does submit the recommendation, and somepony else recalls what she’d gotten up to at the Gala? That could land her in some real hot water.

The catastrophic possibilities of being discharged from the Royal Guard and being disowned by her coltfriend danced for a while in her pounding skull before they were interrupted by a familiar voice.

“Honour? Are you okay?”

‘Oh, buck, no; not her.’

The big, cream-coloured pegasus with the yellow mane that stood before her looked weary, with some puffiness around her eyes, and her ears flopped sleepily back along her poll. Clearly, Honour was not the only one who’d stayed up late, as was certainly to be expected.

“Sparkshower, what are you doing up at this hour? We’re not on duty today.”

Sparkshower shrugged. “I know. But I guess my internal clock won’t let me sleep in any more right now. I was tossing and turning in bed for a while so I thought I’d just get a little breakfast in me and then see if I could rest more after that.” She tilted her head and bent it down a little to scrutinize Honour’s guilty face. “...What about you? You’ve got a diamond pattern pressed into your coat. Did you wind up sleeping on a chair downstairs, or something like that?”

‘Buck! The sofa fabric!’

Mercifully, that pattern was, from what Honour remembered, pretty common throughout the palace. She touched a hoof to her cheek and tried to brush away the evidence of her misdeeds. “Yeah... Yeah, something like that.”

“It can’t have been very comfortable. I guess that’s why you woke up now, too.”

Honour sighed. “I’m up because the sun was in my eyes.” Bending over, she picked up the dropped shawl with her mouth and threw it over her back, before squinting down the hallway in the direction of her room. She tried to lick her lips, only to find it was like rubbing sandpaper over bare rock. “Is our water jug full? My mouth’s dryer than Tartarus.”

Sparkshower slowly shook her head, and that’s when Honour noticed she had a small saddle-strap with their shared copper jug on it. “It’s empty. I was just going to the kitchen to fill it up.”

Honour sighed. As hard as it would be to fall asleep with her head in this state, it’d be even harder when she was also so cotton-mouthed. “I’ll come with you, then.”

Sparkshower cocked her head slightly. “Are you sure? You look pretty exhausted. I’ll be back quickly.”

Honour slowly started towards the nearest servants’ kitchen in their wing of the castle, and the pegasus followed behind. “No. Now that I’ve said it, I’m too thirsty to wait.”

“Maybe you ought to eat a little something, too. You don’t look very good.”

Food was absolutely the last thing Honour wanted inside of her. In fact, the reverse might’ve almost been preferable, but thankfully she didn’t get hammered enough last night to suffer that fate, apparently.

‘Just keep things moving, make small talk as needed, get your water, get your rest, and pray that the truth won’t get out.’

‘To anypony.’

As Honour proceeded down the hallway, she realized that the worst part of all this wasn’t just the maximum potential penalties that she could suffer, in terms of career and conjugality: it was the fact that she just had no way of knowing what would actually happen. And one big reason for that is that she had no idea what Anonymous was going to do, assuming he even remembered. Beyond questions about how much he could recall — which probably wasn’t more than Honour did, but might be as much as that, and that would be bad enough — there was the simple truth that every time she had tried to predict what he was going to do, she’d been proven wrong.

She thought he might have been about to make a move on Sparkshower at the theater — well, only suspected the possibility, really; Glamerspear was the one who completely misread it — but no, it was just an evening’s entertainment. She’d assumed he would retreat from the pas-de-sabots, or give up Artemis and the other tokens as hostages to pass, but then he actually put it to Honour’s choice. She never thought he’d come up, sheepishly, when Sparkshower and Glam had blown up on each other over the Gala, and then offered tickets to all of them — even to Sparks’ now-estranged coltfriend. With Luna’s visit, at least, she simply had no idea what to expect at all: from him, from Her, from Her Presence.

But when she’d blown up at him over his rearranging his room without any of them present? With workers and servants moving around his furniture and taking his directions all day long, without even one of his bodyguards present, against protocol? He’d said the one thing she couldn’t tolerate, and Honour had gone from giving a stern talk to completely flipping out. Yet after that explosive outburst, he’d gone out with Sparkshower and bought Honour an apologetic bouquet.

That was when she realized: she had no idea what was going on in his head.

He was a Very Important Pony, and he wasn’t a Pony, and he was Very Important, and he wasn’t anything like any other VIP she’d ever worked for, or even heard of. Honour’s train of thought barely slowed as she entered the kitchen, this morning little more than a jerkwater outpost to scoop up water before steaming off to her bedroom terminus. At least she could read Anon’s emotions well enough, for the most part; when he was riled up, he certainly wore them right on his sleeve, plain to see. And now that she’d worked with him a few weeks, she felt that she understood his often detached, logical way of looking at things, even if she couldn’t completely simulate it.

But somehow, taking in those inputs did not let her predict his actual output. Often enough, she couldn’t even understand what made him get emotional, either. How come he was so happy and bubbly last night, but restrained and subdued for Tuesday’s club crawl? Well, until he got completely hammered, at least. But what VIP would have accepted Eb’s offer to venture into the batpony Rookery, just for a place to train? Honour had gone along with it, and to be fair, Her Majesty Princess Luna had asked for something like this, but his easygoing attitude had still surprised the corporal. For someone so meticulous and whose work involved such accuracy, how could he throw himself into the unknown like that?

It boggled her mind a bit. He’d even shrugged off the revelation that his batpony bodyguard was actually an assassin!

And what really confused her sometimes was the way he’d let her walk all over him. The bouquet was bad enough, but letting her sit in on his massage at Spa Dalecarlia? Not demanding she avert her eyes when he was naked in the Well of Souls? Overall, just allowing her to impose Equestrian social customs to the absolute hilt?

And yet not, sometimes.

He wouldn’t let her take the fall for him with Major-General Hoofstrong over the live-fire Whirlwind exercise, and he refused to be held aside as a non-combatant during Marcos’ ambush. Even though both of those actions were very clearly part of Honour’s job description as a bodyguard. And then there was the even bigger bunyip in the room...

What did Anonymous actually want?

Even if they’d touched her deeply, his compliments and that hoof-kiss after that pole-dance last night could’ve been dismissed as just the innocent reassurance of a friend — a close friend. But after waking up in his arms? Maybe not. Had he simply fallen victim to her blatant seduction? Or was he genuinely interested?

She thought back to his lonely, sad-drunk outburst on Tuesday night, when he mumbled about not wanting to be alone any more. And when he whispered about how she ought to let her hair down… And when he ran his fingers through her mane, massaging her crest...

“Uh, Corporal? Are you done?”

Sparkshower’s voice shook Honour back to her senses and she realized she was still standing right in front of the sink, with the water-jug and a single kitchen cup, both full before her.

Her mouth, however, was still bone-dry.

Shaking her head quickly to jolt herself awake, Honour snatched up the cup and guzzled the water, before wiping her mouth and looking over to her pegasus comrade as she holstered the jug on her saddle. “What about your breakfast?”

Artemis lifted an eyebrow. “I already had it: a couple of slices of toast with butter and jam. You’ve just been standing here the whole time while I ate. Are you sure you’re okay?”

Honour scowled at herself. She wasn’t doing herself any favors by trying to mull everything over right now.

‘Focus on what’s important: making sure nopony finds out. Especially not Sparkshower.’

“I’m just tired. Come on, let’s head back. We could both do with more rest.”

The pegasus nodded. “Right.”

Honour really did need to be careful; even as bleary as she was, Artemis had still managed to pick out the pattern imprinted onto her coat from the Royal Engineer’s sofa. And Honour had foolishly admitted being woken up by sunrise. That was a dangerous amount of information to have fed to a recon-expert pony already, even though plenty of palace windows faced east. It was imperative that Honour avoid divulging anything else that could incriminate her.

‘Buck, who actually had spotted me and Anonymous together last night?’

She knew they were the last ones to leave, so nopony she knew should have spotted her as she actually went into the Royal Engineer’s chambers. Glamerspear had abandoned dancing with their VIP out of exhaustion, but Honour couldn’t imagine the unicorn had outright left the Gala then and there. Had she seen Honour’s pole dance?

Her grind?

What about Ebonshield? Had the batpony been too wrapped up with her latest acquisition to notice Honour’s first and very public display? And where had Artemis been the whole time? Did she go so far into giving Anon some time-out that she didn’t even glance over at him when dancing with her colt? The pegasus hadn’t mentioned anything, yet.

Honour’s heart started to race again, as it had but minutes ago when she’d realized where she’d spent the night. With luck, Sparkshower would go back to sleep longer than Honour, and she could check the other potential witnesses first. Not to mention, talk to her VIP.

‘OK. You can run damage control on this; it won’t be too hard.’

Upon reaching her room, Honour almost breathed a sigh of relief as she opened the door.

Only to have that relief obliterated by panic when she heard the toilet flush. Somepony was in the washroom, and in two seconds, they were going to see Honour walk in with Sparkshower. Would it be Glam, or Eb? And would they be in a chatty mood or just in a hurry to get back to bed?

Sparkshower stepped past Honour to deposit the filled water-jug on the sideboard. As she did so, the door opened to reveal a very tired-looking Glamerspear. “Is that water? Thank Celestia, I’m parched. You’re a lifesaver, Sparks.”

“You’re welcome, Lily. I guess we’re all a bit dry after the late night, right, Honour?”

‘Ah, buck.’

Midway through a guzzled cup, Glam lazily glanced over at the corporal. “Damn, didn’t even notice you there.” As she telekinetically lowered the vessel back down, she cracked an exhausted grin.

Honour’s eyes slid to Glamerspear, widening in alarm.

‘No, no, don’t you dare…’

“Heh. Lot less conspicuous when you aren’t up on a pole.”

‘Damn you to Tartarus, Specialist Lily Glamerspear!’

Sparkshower cocked an eyebrow and turned to look at Honour. “Up on a pole?”

Honour screwed her eyes shut.

‘Buck!’

The pink unicorn snorted. “Oh, you didn’t see? Turns out our corporal is one heck of an acrobat, and a bit of a closet exhibitionist too, I’d say. Where’d you learn to pole-dance like that, huh?”

‘Shut it down; shut it down, now!’

“A class I took during my post-divorce crisis. And you won’t see it again unless I get very, very drunk. So you may as well forget it happened.”

At that, Glamerspear whinnied hoarsely. “Forget it?! A performance like that? Even if I could, there’s a hundred others who’ll remember. Especially our VIP, given his front-row seat, complete with participation award. How late did you two stay up dancing, anyways? They must’ve had to kick you out.”

Sparkshower’s head swiveled to Glamerspear, a confused look on her face, at that last statement.

‘This is getting out of hoof.’

Steeling her expression, Honour turned towards the unicorn. “I’m exhausted; I don’t want to discuss anything right now. Let’s just get back to bed, and we can blabber all about the Gala in the afternoon, okay?”

Glam’s smirk faded, and she nodded slowly. “Yeah, sure.” She started towards her door, and Honour towards her own.

Sparkshower, however, remained still.

‘Just go to bed, just go to bed, just go to bed, just go to bed.’

The corporal stepped past her, and a few steps later, she reached her forehoof out for the door handle.

“Honour...”

‘No-no-no-no-no!’

“...last night, when you fell asleep downstairs...”

‘Wait-wait-wait-wait-wait!’

“...was it on the Royal Engineer’s blue sofa with white diamond pleats? The one in his sitting area that faces east out the big window behind his desk?”

Honour’s eyes cringed shut.

‘I’ve been made.’

With a sigh, she lowered her hoof, but she stayed facing the door. There was nothing left but to come clean; at least she could truthfully say that nothing happened. “Yes. But we just cuddled, okay? He didn’t even take his suit off.”

There was no reply.

After a moment, Honour lifted her head from the door and looked back.

Glamerspear’s jaw was hung open in shock.

Sparkshower’s eyes were as wide as dinner plates.

It was the unicorn that broke the silence with a hoarse, hissing, whisper-shout. “’JUST CUDDLED’? YOU MEAN YOU SLEPT WITH ANON?!”

‘Oh, bucking damn absolutely everything and everyone to Tartarus! Sparkshower had only figured out where you’d slept, not with whom!’

The pegasus in question started to pant. “You... I just... I just thought you fell asleep on his sofa after helping him get home, like on Tuesday.”

‘Congratulations, Honoria, you just played yourself!’

Choking on her own spittle, the earth pony held a forehoof up in supplication. “That’s what—That’s what it was supposed to be, and— and— and somehow it just turned into passing out on the couch together, okay? But nothing happened, Spar—”

Interrupting her, The pegasus just threw up her wings and stomped off towards her room. “No, no, you’re right; I don’t want to discuss anything right now, either! I don’t want to discuss anything at all!” With a loud bang, she kick-slammed the door shut behind her. There was a clattering from inside as she rattled on. “I don’t want to discuss you spooning with Anonymous on his sofa! I don’t want to discuss how you pole-danced with him when I couldn’t! I don’t want to discuss how I ought to ‘play it slow’!”

Honour faltered over towards the door, absolutely dejected with herself. “Artemis, please!”

“I SAID I DON’T WANT TO DISCUSS!”

There was one final rustle from inside, and then Honour heard Sparkshower’s window slide open.

‘Well, this isn’t the first pegasus defenestrative rage-quit I’ve witnessed.’

But a moment after she heard the pegasus’ wings open, there was the unmistakable and deafening CLICK-FWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOSSSHHHHH of the Bradamante Lance rocketing off into the distance.

‘Damn it all to Tartarus.’

Honour collapsed onto her haunches in front of Sparkshower’s room door, curling up into the crumpled mess that she was.

Glamerspear was still just staring at her in shock.

Moments passed in silence, and then there was another click and creak. Ebonshield’s door opened and the violet batpony poked her head out. After surveying the apparent damage, she stepped into the common room and gently shut the door behind her with a wing-arm. She probably hadn’t slept alone in there.

Honour looked up, dejected, a scattering of tears streaming down her muzzle, as the sergeant sidled up next to Glamerspear, shooting her an inquisitive glance. With a sigh, Glamerspear spilled the beans. “Honour slept on Anon’s sofa last night. With him. But she says that nothing happened.”

Honour tried to chime in, but her voice came out as a croak. “Nothing happened.”

Glam didn’t seem to believe her. “Well, either way, Sparks didn’t take that too well.”

Eb considered things for a moment, then sighed as she looked down at Honour’s miserable form. “Well. Ordinarily for such a situation, I might have some joke or tease to make, given my own introductory proposition to our VIP, but I see that things are well beyond such a point.” Approaching the corporal, she held out a forehoof to help her get back up. “What has happened last night?”

The earth pony took it and hauled herself onto her hooves, though unsteadily; Eb led her to one of the chairs at the breakfast-table and, once Honour was seated, grabbed another for herself, scooching in close. Glam just watched from the sideboard, pouring herself another cup of water.

“Eb, I don’t really want to talk about it. I just want to get some sleep.”

The master of assassins patted Honour’s forehoof. “The short version, then. In case Artemisa returns while you slumber, that I might help settle things.”

Honour really didn’t want the batpony to have to take care of her affairs.

‘’Affairs’, now there’s a word.’

Sighing, the corporal gave in. “A song I used for my pole-dance recital came on, so I performed it. I made mistakes and almost fell off, but Anonymous helped me avoid complete failure. And he’d danced in support. After a short rest, we kept going the rest of the night. We got... pretty close. Didn’t leave until the DJ packed up. By the time I helped him back to his room, we were both exhausted enough to just collapse on his sofa. I woke up with the sun in my eyes and the Royal Engineer’s arm around my barrel, and left as discreetly as I could. He was still asleep when I left.”

The batpony’s dark nostrils flared as she inhaled deeply. “I see...”

She considered Honour’s words for a few moments.

“... And how did you feel when you were dancing with him? When you fell asleep together?”

Honour shook her head again, furrowing her brow. “I don’t know. I can’t remember, exactly. I had something like half a liter of rum in me, you know.”

“Mmmm, yes, of course, but come now, Caporal...” Eb lowered her head down to look up into Honour’s eyes. “...If you remember the events so clearly as this, surely you remember also how you felt about them?”

‘That’s…’

‘Damn it.’

Honour knew she was right. All morning, the earth pony had been thinking about how she felt. It was a tangled mess of emotions and questions.

‘How to sum it all up succinctly?’

She cast her memory back to find a reference point, and when she finally found one that fit all too well, she shut her eyes and cringed all over again. It shouldn’t have been that, but it was.

With a sniffle, Honour muttered out the truth. “I felt like how I did when my ex-husband and I first met.” Opening her eyes again, she saw Purity’s sympathetic, yet concerned, face.

Over at the sideboard, Glamerspear nickered and then clacked her tongue. “Hnn-hnn-hnn. Tsk. Well...” She cocked her head sideways and rolled her eyes up towards the ceiling. “...At least this time you don’t gotta worry about him wanting to marry you for your money.”

Suggested interlude music: Haddaway - ‘What is Love’ [1993]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HEXWRTEbj1I

Chapter 1

Princess Celestia

Her Royal Majesty Princess Celestia, Princess of the Sun, took a moment to consider the individuals before her. Satisfied, she gave a slight smile to them. "Thank you for your update, Chancellor Strings and Engineer Anonymous." Bowing before her was her little pony, Purse Strings, Chancellor of the Exchequer, and her rather larger not-at-all-a-pony and Royal Engineer, Anonymous, who together had just delivered their monthly report on Anonymous' efforts to industrialize Equestria. Having found the report satisfactory, she gave a gentle nod in acknowledgement. "... If there's nothing else, I would like a moment to speak with Anon."

"Nothing at this time, Your Majesty. I take my leave." With another bow, Purse Strings nodded his head and closed his enormous ledger with a resounding thud, then somehow wrangled it into the large saddle-bag strapped to his back before exiting the small Presence Chamber reserved for intimate meetings with Celestia's most trusted ministers and advisers. Anonymous, dressed in his black tailcoat and white shirt, with his elegant red Royal Engineer's sash visible, regarded the princess with a questioning look on his face, still clutching the bundle of papers with his notes on them.

"Anonymous. Your services to Equestria have not gone unnoticed. A growing number of members of the Court have come to appreciate your endeavors. As such, I have the privilege of bestowing on you one of the boons available to those who serve the Crown." On Princess Celestia's cue, a guard pony in officer's regalia entered the room, with three more guard ponies marching in line abreast behind her. Following the turn of The Princess' head, Anon took a step back to regard the new arrivals.

"ATTEN-SHUN!"

The officer, clacking her hind hooves on the floor, saluted the Princess and Royal Engineer with the three guards behind her doing likewise.

"PREE-SENT!"

Another hoof-clack, and the three guards sat their hindquarters down and thrust their chests out. After a moment, Anon turned his head back to look at Celestia, a questioning look on his face.

"One of the privileges granted to Very Important Ponies is a personal detachment of Equestria's finest. You may now enjoy security and dignity wherever your work may take you."

Raising his eyebrows, Anon nodded his head. "Thank you very much, Your Majesty."

Sensing some surprise and reservation, Celestia leaned over a little over and spoke softly. "Is something wrong?"

"Well, I'm honored, of course. But I didn't think there were any kind of safety problems in Canterlot serious enough to warrant bodyguards."

Celestia couldn't help but smirk. His answer was typical of the pragmatic person she knew him to be. "You might be surprised. But you're right; security is only part of the reason for being assigned guards. It is considered a mark of dignity and wealth for Courtiers in Canterlot to have a retinue of Bodyguards, whether needed or not. Normally, those who live outside the palace must hire their own. For guests of the Palace, such as yourself, as well as for recent arrivals who have not yet established themselves in the city, the Royal Guard provides a VIP honour guard service."

Anon nodded his head in understanding, assuaged by the Princess' response. "I see. In olden times, we had similar customs where I'm from. Servants called Footmen were hired almost more as a display of wealth than any practical purpose."

"Of course. But I trust you'll find my Royal Guard useful as well as decorative. Lieutenant Violetta, if you would kindly introduce us...?"

The officer-guardsmare saluted again, giving regard to the pony at the end of the line. "Specialist Sparkshower, PRE-SENT!"

A young pegasus mare with a cream-colored coat and a brilliant-blonde mane took a step forward and saluted the princess, before repeating the motion for Anonymous. "Specialist Sparkshower, reporting for duty, Your Majesty! Sir! By the honor of the Royal Guard, I pledge my life in the service of your protection!"

Lieutenant Violetta nodded, satisfied. "Specialist Sparkshower has volunteered for VIP duty out of the 19D Armoured Scouts. A swifter, quieter, and more diligent scout you won't find in the entire division." Anon nodded in acknowledgement, as the Lieutenant moved on to the pony in the middle of the trio.

"Specialist Glamerspear, PRE-SENT!" Another young guardsmare, this one a pink-coloured unicorn with a teal-and-cyan mane, stepped forward and repeated the ritual introduction, prompting Lieutenant Violetta to present the Specialist's resume. "Specialist Glamerspear comes to you from the 14E Air Defense Company, and brings best-in-class abilities with magical shielding and telekinetic anti-air projectiles." As if to put an exclamation point on that statement, the unicorn's horn took on a teal glow and, for a brief moment, a translucent green hemispherical defensive field flashed above her head. Once Anon acknowledged the flashy display and the flashy mare who performed it, it was time to present the final member of the trio, an earth pony with a brown coat and chocolate-brown mane.

"Corporal Bound, PRE-SENT!" The non-commissioned officer stepped forward, with an experienced soldier's steady gait and a stern gaze. "Corporal Bound is a veteran of the 11B Infantry, and has served all across Equestria, from the Celestial Sea to the Luna Ocean. There's not a single danger situation she hasn't been in, and as the NCO of your detachment, will provide leadership to the other Guards on duty."

All three guards having been presented, Princess Celestia turned her attention back to Anonymous. "Well, Engineer Anonymous, what do you think?"

"I think Your Majesty has overburdened me with her generous gifts. If a portal to Tartarus opened up in my chambers, I feel as though I needn't so much as draw closed my robes."

Before Celestia could answer, Lieutenant Violetta puffed her chest out and spoke up in a proud voice. "That's the idea, Sir!" The gathered individuals shared an expression of mirth, mutually experiencing an internal chuckle at the Lieutenant's gung-ho enthusiasm.

After the moment of levity, Anonymous took a moment's pause before turning to the Princess, lifting an eyebrow. "A question, Your Majesty. I can't help but notice that all three Guards I've been assigned are mares. While in Court, you seem to constantly be surrounded by guard-stallions. Is there some significance to that?"

As astute as ever. It was little wonder Purse Strings spoke so highly of Anon's attention to detail. "As a matter of fact, there is. As an escort of bodyguards is, as I've mentioned, as much for decoration as for security, it is the traditional custom for unattached VIPs to be escorted by guards of the opposite sex, the better to show off their... worthiness." To avoid lingering on that obvious euphemism, and its implications, Her Majesty continued on. "Lieutenant Temper Violetta will be the officer in charge of your detachment, although she will reside in the main barracks. The members of your escort will be housed in the servants' quarters on the second floor, above your chamber."

"And am I to be escorted at all times?"

The Lieutenant piped up. "VIP Guard duty is performed for sixteen hours a day, from zero-eight-hundred hours to oh-zero-hundred hours, with a two-shift rotation. Three guards are assigned so as to accommodate regular Royal Guard duties and leave."

"And if you have any more questions, you may direct them to the Lieutenant. She will also handle any scheduling or special requests you may have."

Recognizing the subtle cue that the Princess' presentation was now over, Anonymous turned to her and bowed once more. "Your Majesty is overgenerous in her gifts. I shall redouble my efforts to bring scientific and industrial enlightenment to Equestria."

Princess Celestia nodded once more, signalling the group's dismissal. As Anonymous, Lt. Violetta, and his assigned guards made their exit through the Presence Chamber's doors, the princess allowed herself a slight frown. More zealous work from Anon wasn't what she'd had in mind with this ceremony. He was a well-adjusted, down-to-earth creature, who'd quickly recovered from the shock at being transported to a completely foreign land and launched himself into useful work. But his frenetic pace was unsustainable without strong bonds to Equestria and its people. Eventually, unless he developed some lasting roots, he would burn himself out, and that would be a terrible waste. It was Celestia's hope that the more she could get Anonymous involved in Court life, in Canterlot society, and in Pony culture as a whole, the better it would be in the long run - even if it meant sacrificing his valuable time to frivolous pursuits.

Chapter 5

Honour Bound

It was just after midnight. Honour Bound realized she should be asleep, but she figured she should stay up to see the end of both shifts. She'd hoped nothing would go wrong on the first day, but with a naive young pegasus in one hoof, and a self-absorbed, salt-licking unicorn in the other, anything was possible. Sitting almost sideways in one of the chairs of the living room, Honour Bound was finishing off the final paragraph of an article in that week's 'The New Equestrian' magazine. Over at the breakfast table, Specialist Sparkshower was also staying up late, working through her issue of 'Canterlot Match' that the Corporal had bought her, a quill and paper by her side. That rag was by far the gossipiest of all the gossip magazines in Equestria, but she was actually using it to make notes on the who's-who of Canterlot society. Honour Bound had to admire the effort. Artemis Sparkshower had only recently arrived in Canterlot, after all, and in her own words, she wanted to quickly get the grasp of the capital. Sparkshower had the morning shift tomorrow, but she'd taken a nap that afternoon to make up the sleep time in advance.

As Honour Bound turned her magazine over to start the article on the other side, she could hear hoofsteps out in the carpeted hallway. The steps came to a stop outside the door to their shared quarters, and moments later, Specialist Glamerspear slowly pushed the door open.

She was completely soaked; her coat was streaked with lathery white sweat deposits, and her mane was in desperate need of a blow-dry and brushing. She had her helmet and armor floating beside her in a magical field. Sparkshower put down her magazine, a confused expression on her face, but Glamerspear was speechless. Doing anything more than standing there, panting in the entryway with her head hung low, was apparently beyond her present abilities.

It seemed Honour Bound might not be getting what she'd hoped for. How did a unicorn with Lily Glamerspear's telekinetic abilities manage to get wet in the rain?

Finally, with what seemed like a supreme effort, Glamerspear reached over and closed the door behind her. Taking a deep breath, she lifted her head up to face the other two occupants of the room.

"Did either of you know that humans can gallop for EIGHT STRAIGHT HOURS!?"

Sparkshower's jaw dropped. "Anonymous went galloping for your entire evening shift?!"

It was as though the act of getting into conversation had reinvigorated the social-butterfly unicorn, as she began to grow steadily more animated. "No! It was only for an hour, which was impressive enough, but when I asked him if he was a champion athlete, he just laughed and said that one hour at that pace -- which he called a 'jog' although I had to GALLOP to keep up -- was nothing, and that real human athletes can do it all day long without stopping! Can you believe that?!"

Hopping out of her chair, the pegasus darted over to her fellow guardsmare and held her forehooves out beneath the floating armor pieces. Glamerspear's horn stopped glowing and the field holding her stuff up was allowed to drop -- and the armor went right along with it, straight into the pegasus' waiting forelegs.

The relief from finally being able to shut off that last source of exertion had a palpable effect on the poor junior unicorn as she went slack on her hooves, some previously hidden tension evaporating. "... Thanks, I needed that."

The pegasus gave her a smile. "No problem, Glamerspear. You go have a shower, I'll hang these up in your room."

"You're a real pal, Sparkshower. I owe you one."

That was the first time she'd actually addressed the pegasus by her full name. She must have really meant it. While she flapped over to the unicorn's bedroom, Glamerspear trotted over to the washroom. In seconds, the curtain was drawn and the water was running full-blast. Honour could hear the unicorn's sigh of relief. By the time Sparkshower had finished hanging up her comrade's armor and floated back out from the bedroom, the water had stopped again. And then there was the unmistakable deep-bass "shuuuuuuuuUUUUH-WOOOM!" of Glamerspear drying herself off with a WC-40 maneuver.

"What was that?!"

Clearly, Specialist Sparks hadn't been around many "'corn fields" - the lingo for all-unicorn regiments.

"WC-40. Low-intensity modulated telekinetic blast. Unicorns do it in the field for drying off in a hurry."

"Why's it called a WC-40?"

That was such an old yarn, she was a little surprised she'd never heard it. But then again, Sparkshower was pretty green for a Specialist, and much of her time had been spent actually deep in the field, rather than sharing tales back at barracks.

"Because it takes practice. Get it wrong and you can wind up looking like a furball, or worse. Usually newbies practice it outside until they can do it even when they're hung over and exhausted. The story goes that one rookie thought they'd mastered it and went for a shower in Water Closet #40. They got it wrong, and blew the place up."

"At Fort Horseshoe Bend?! I remember using Water Closet #40, that's the one next to the chow hall!"

"And it's a newer building than the rest."

The pegasus rookie looked aghast at the idea that the latrine building might have exploded from a careless unicorn at any time.

"... That's how I heard it, anyway."

Meanwhile, Glamerspear had emerged from the shower, her coat fresh and dry and mane well-brushed. "Ahh, that's better! If I hadn't had to keep up that umbrella shield while also galloping around the rose garden like a madmare, I might not have gotten so beat, but I just don't know how he managed to keep going so fast for so long."

Sparkshower hovered over towards Glamerspear, placing a hoof to her chin "Well, he's tall, so maybe for him it wasn't a gallop?"

Glamerspear waved her hoof dismissively. "Oh, sure, I guess his 'jog' was more of a... canter. But even so, could you keep up a canter -- on hoof, mind you, not in the air -- for an hour, without breaks -- let alone eight hours?"

"No, but... He doesn't have any hair on his body, right?"

"Ugh, don't remind me. And let me tell you, he picked the WORST clothes to wear while exercising. Just these two pieces of plain white, baggy, short-sleeved cotton undergarments. I was lucky we weren't seen; it would have been so embarrassing!"

With a firm flap, Sparkshower hoisted herself up into the air, almost touching the ceiling. "Wait - if his skin is exposed, then he can sweat a lot easier than we can! And that means he doesn't overheat! So that's why he can keep going for so long."

The unicorn cocked an eye up at her. "How’d you figure that?"

Sparkshower dropped from the air and landed with a satisfying thud. "The non-pegasus ponies in Armored Recon -- and even some of the pegasi, actually -- sometimes shave parts of their body when they know they need to do long-distance work on hot, humid days. It makes it easier to sweat and keep cool."

Glamerspear stuck out her tongue. "Yech, gross! ...But I believe you. Still, you're not going to find ME shaving my flanks just to keep up with some hairless monkey!"

The pegasus shrugged her shoulders. "Maybe you could get out of morning Pony Physical Training if Anonymous goes for a run every night?"

Glamerspear smirked. "Oh, believe me, Sparks. I don't mind morning PPT. This flank doesn't keep itself toned, you know what I mean?" Emphasizing the point, Glamerspear turned and tapped her left buttock, adopting an exaggerated 'sexy pose' before relaxing into giggles. Sparkshower started giggling along too, while Glam sauntered over to the couch, and continued. "... And it's more interesting than just sitting in front of a pair of doors all day, right? But I was wondering if maybe you wanted to switch shifts? If he's going to make this a regular thing, anyways."

"Sure, I don't mind. But you said you cast a shield to block out the rain? What if it's raining tomorrow? I can't do anything for him like that."

Toppling backwards over the armrest, Glamerspear lay down on the sofa, bringing a hoof up to her forehead. "Ugghh, you're right. Now that he's gotten a taste of what The Glam can do for him, why would he settle for anything else?" She dropped her foreleg off to the side. "... Maybe I could get him to go somewhere else to go for a 'constitutional' other than Princess Celestia's bucking rose garden? That's for pleasant tea parties or romantic evening strolls, not crazed hairless monkey galloping."

"But it is right outside his chambers. It's the closest open area outside.”

"Ugh... Well, maybe I can suggest some better exercise fashion for him to wear. Something with a trim fit and maybe a pattern, at least."

Honour yawned. Taking a glance at the clock against the wall, she noticed it was half past midnight.

Far past the time for this 'shoe-camp-tier silliness. "Okay, fillies. It's after midnight, let's put the lights out. Figure out your galloping problems in the morning."

Sparkshower gave her a quick salute from where she was standing. "Yes, Corporal."

Glamerspear lazily slapped a hoof against her forehead, still lying on the couch. "Yes, Corporal."

With that, Honour got up and turned off the main living room light. Sparkshower yawned and stretched her wings before making her way to the washroom.

"Hey Sparkshower, don't take too long in there, or else I'll fall asleep out here."

The pegasus already had her toothbrush in her mouth. "Uhhl buh dunn uhn uh munhut."

Putting the two junior Specialists out of her mind, Corporal Bound turned in for the night. If a sweaty, exhausted unicorn was the worst this assignment had to offer, it should turn out all right.

Chapter 8

Artemis Sparkshower

It had been a little over half an hour since Artemis blew out of Anonymous' chambers like a summer gale. Unfortunately, neither Specialist Glamerspear nor Corporal Honour Bound were upstairs in their quarters just then. She didn't have time to wait around, so she'd bolted for the barracks' dining hall instead. Besides, it was a fair bet that they would be there. No dice, though. And she'd even quickly flown up to the top of the hall to get a good look around! Artemis dined alone as a result, but she was so excited that she could barely taste the usually outstanding Friday evening grub. Finally, after a return trip across the castle grounds, she was back at her quarters, just above the Royal Engineer's chambers.

Time for her to get dressed up for the big show! Without coming to a stop, and certainly without touching her hooves down on the ground, she reached out and swiftly jerked the door handle even as she flew forward, bowling her way into the room and careening off the hallway wall (And probably leaving a nice set of hoof-prints on the wallpaper).

"WHOA!! Easy there, jeez!"

Looked like she'd found one of her compatriots! Glamerspear was so shocked by Artemis' dynamic entrance that she'd practically jumped off the sofa. With a huge grin on her face, Artemis came skidding to a touchdown in front of her.

"Oh, hey Glamerspear! Guess what just happened!"

"Somepony dared you to drink a whole tray full of shots in the canteen?" she quipped, slightly fuddled after Artemis' energetic arrival. "I don't know, why else are you bouncing off the walls like that?"

She shook her head vigorously. "Nope! Royal Engineer Anonymous is taking me out to see a musical at the Sardinia Theatre, and he's buying me a ticket to sit next to him!"

Glamerspear's eyes went wide. "Whaaaaat! Seriously?!"

Artemis nodded her head, also vigorously.

Lily smiled and cocked a hoof at her. "Oh my gosh, jea-lous!"

"Yeah, I'm going to wear a dress and everything!" Artemis immediately started for her room. "...We're leaving in less than an hour, so I've got to get ready!"

Glamerspear looked after her with a grin on her face. "Wow, filly, you sure don't waste time! Way to bag yourself a hot ticket on short notice!"

'Hot' ticket?’

‘Oh, she must mean the 'hot' showticket.

Bounding into her room, Artemis left the door open as she rummaged through her closet. "Yeah, isn't it great?"

Glamerspear peeked in at her around the doorway. "Well, you know, you're not the only one who struck gold today. I passed by Captain Mailedhoof again-"

"I know! I heard you walk over there when I relieved you!"

Whoops, that wasn't too polite of her to interrupt Lily. All that excitement was going to her head a bit. Better cool things off. There was still plenty of time before the show, after all.

"... Right, and this time he actually came over and spoke to me! Said he'd seen me 'around' and wanted to say 'hello'. Heh, but you know what that means, don't you, filly-friend?"

As Artemis grabbed the hangar she was looking for, a question sprung to mind, and she peeked around the corner to speak with Lily, face-to-face. "Oh, right - I was going to ask. Isn't Captain Mailedhoof *married*?"

Glamerspear just laughed. "Oh, sure, he's married, but that won't stop him from 'saying hello', you know what I mean?"

She sure did know what she meant! Although she did kind of put a weird emphasis on 'saying hello' there. Still, she must have just meant that Captain Mailedhoof was one of those lucky colts whose wife wasn't so suspicious of him that he couldn't say hello to a mare in the street! Or in the palace, rather.

Aww, he must be a real swell guy.

"Yeah, I do know! That's great for you!"

Glamerspear took a step forward and leaned up back against the sidewall of Artemis' closet. "Aaaaaanyways, I'm thinking it won't be long before we can go get some drinks together in the Officers' club, and then, well, things'll proceed naturally, won't they?" As she trailed off, she raised one of her eyebrows and smirked at the pegasus.

"Sure, I get it!"

Artemis didn't really get it. So she changed the subject instead.

"I can't wait to get back after the show and write a letter to my coltfriend back in Berry about tonight!"

It looked like she'd lost Glamerspear. Her nose was all scrunched up and her eyes had gone wide again. The unicorn knew about coltfriends, right? Well, it didn't matter, because Artemis had found her dress!

"And here's what I'm going to wear tonight, check this out!"

Grabbing the hangar hook in her mouth, she swooshed it out in front of her, taking to the air and spread it out with her hooves. Glamerspear seemed to be struck speechless.

"It's my cotillion ball dress from my last year in Berry before I joined the Royal Guard! And it still fits!"

Her roommate seemed to be struggling for words. She probably just hadn't seen traditional clothing that finely-made before!

"Isn't it pretty? My grandma made it, and she's practically an alicorn with a sewing needle!"

Finally, after getting back down on all fours, Glamerspear seemed to find the words. "It's got... puffed sleeves."

'SHE NOTICED!'

"YEAH! Aren't they GORGEOUS? I was voted as Queen of the Ball! I got a tiara and everything!"

The unicorn's mouth hung open, and she had one hoof held up like she wanted to say something, but all that came out was gibberish.

"Wow, uh... Err..."

'Poor filly! She must be overwhelmed from all the excitement of a new friend in Captain Mailedhoof and my 'hot ticket' to the show tonight!'

"Anyways, even though I've got three-quarters of an hour, I want to make sure I look just right, so I'm going to jump in the shower, if you don't mind?"

She still seemed unable to put together two words. "O... kay... Su... Sure."

Artemis laid the dress down on her bed and set to work on removing her armour. Glamerspear backed slowly out of her room and closed the door.

'Oooh, this is going to be so much fun!'

Lily Glamerspear

It was a quarter to seven, and Specialist Glamerspear was lying on the sofa reading 'Cosmo'. Sparkshower had just gone trotting daintily out the door on her way to Anonymous' chambers.

...

Lily uttered a silent prayer to Celestia that, for her comrade's sake, nobody important spotted her and the Royal Engineer together. At least not while she was wearing that horribly unfashionable dress.

'PUFFED SLEEVES!? Are you bucking kidding me?! Those went out of fashion DECADES ago!'

And she couldn't say anything about it! Lily might have a big mouth, but she was not going to light the fuse on a grenade full of trouble and drop it at her own hooves. After all, she knew what mares were like when they realized they didn't have anything nice to wear right before a big event. But she definitely needed to take Sparkshower out dress shopping if she managed to get Anonymous into her saddlebag. After all, she didn't want word getting around that she was working for a VIP with a taste for unfashionable mares! And WHAT was that about having a coltfriend back in Berry? And she was going to TELL him about her new salt-lick on the side? Does he have some kind of cuckolding fetish?

'Geez, country ponies sure are kinky weirdos...'

She could hardly wait 'til Honour Bound got back so she could tell her about this. It would wipe that detached expression from her face for sure.

Interlude: Gilbert & Sullivan's "The Sorcerer"
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PHAnWsylr28

Script: http://web.mit.edu/gsp/www/Archive/1995fall_sorcerer/libretto1.html

Chapter 29

Ebonshield

Despite expectorating all over his paperwork, and the look of shock on his face, Sergeant First Class Ebonshield’s VIP did not at least appear to be angry. Her question had clearly upset him, but he was not about to throw her out. Perhaps she had not made so big of a mistake as she thought. She just needed to explain herself.

"I apologize if the question has offended you, sir..."

The Engineer Royal was still sitting there, stupefied, and Ebonshield took a few steps closer to his desk so that she did not speak to him from across the room.

Did he really have no idea?

She had not expected this.

"... I assumed that you were aware of the history of this tradition -- of the assigning guards to single VIPs."

Anonymous put down the half-empty glass and placed his hands on his desk. "Her Majesty told me it was a boon, to ensure my 'security and dignity.'"

Is that what the ancient custom had devolved to, here in Equestria? Or is that merely what the Princess of the Sun told him, knowing the custom remained more than that? Perhaps she should have undergone the VIP service training first, after all, to get a handle on the differences social.

"I am sure the custom is for this as well. But originally, this is a form of hospitality. An unmarried dignitary arrives at court without an entourage. Custom obliges the host to provide their guest with all the creature comforts they require... including companionship."

Mouth still agape, he squinted at her. "Are you saying that's the reason why I've only been assigned mares?"

"For a colt, yes. Unless, of course, he is known to have other preferences."

If he did, her assignment was likely to be very short.

‘¡Ay!’

At least she’d left the Rookery for one night.

Her VIP put a hand up to his forehead. "I'm sorry, Sergeant, but this is the first I've heard of such a tradition, and it's a bit of a shock. Are you absolutely certain of what you're saying?"

A good question. Did she dare expose her ignorance in this matter?

"It is an ancient custom, but one that my people still follow..."

She left that ambiguous phrasing hanging for a few seconds, before deciding to come clean while still clinging to her original statement.

"... The Court of Canterlot may see things differently now, but there is always the gossip about VIPs engaging in dalliances with their retainers. And you have been assigned four eligible mares--"

The Engineer Royal interrupted before she could continue.

"Eligible?! Sparkshower was just telling me this morning about her coltfriend!"

‘Hah, as if having an Equestrian 'coltfriend' would take precedence over duty.’

"But you took her out to the theatre with a ticket, Great Lord. If she accepted, she must have had some idea of the significance of such an act."

With hands balled up in fists on the table, Ebonshield’s VIP quickly snapped out a follow-up question. "And what is that significance?"

Really? He does not know this, also? His ignorance was almost amusing, and she could not help but sway her shoulders playfully.

"It means that you consider her a partner, rather than merely a bodyguard."

What was growing anger dissipated in a flash as her VIP hunched forward and put his head in his hands, rubbing his eyes.

"Oh, bloody hell..."

He held that position for a little while, breathing deeply.

Having apparently recovered, he leaned back in his chair and spread his hands on the desk.

"... I suppose that would explain the rather odd look I received from the Chancellor of the Exchequer, when I suggested that she sit beside me."

Sparkshower had not mentioned that the proposal happened right in the presence of others. In fact, her description of the event had been, compared to the rest of her stories, unusually terse. Doubtless she was simply being modest about her side relationship with her VIP.

"Yes. The custom is generally kept private."

The Engineer Royal waved a finger in the air, shaking his head. "No, I'm sorry, Sergeant, but I disagree. The Chancellor may have been embarrassed by my proposal, but I made my intentions for that evening very clear, and nothing more came of it. Specialist Sparkshower has not behaved as if we have any kind of special relationship, and neither have I."

This was a strange feeling to Ebonshield, to have him push back against her suggestion without becoming upset. By now, any other colt would have chased her out with shouts and blows.

Perhaps, as she hoped, he was not a prude.

But he was woefully innocent.

She took a few more steps closer for good measure.

"Well, what about the Specialist Glamerspear, then, sir?"

The Engineer Royal looked up at her with a weary look. "What about Specialist Glamerspear?"

"She made fashion recommendations for the Great Lord; that is a sign of some intimacy."

He scoffed. "She made fashion recommendations because she was embarrassed to be seen with me in my old jogging clothes. And while I thought they were still perfectly serviceable, I understood her sentiment."

"Certainly, sir. But yesterday I thought she was being very familiar to you; she was almost about to design you an outfit for the Gala herself."

He waggled a finger in the air. "There's nothing provocative about that. It's perfectly ordinary for a fashionable mare to make such suggestions."

And still this colt pushed back! Now was the time to yank secrets out from underneath the shadows and expose them to the light.

Tilting her head back, she tried to suppress a sly grin. "The Great Lord is perhaps unaware of her reactions to seeing him in his new exercise outfits. She was very appreciative of the physique of the Great Lord."

The Engineer Royal furrowed his brow for a moment, then opened his eyes wide when he realized what she meant.

But he smiled and shook his head again. "If she thinks I'm a good-looking, er, colt, well, then, I'm flattered, but that doesn't mean anything either, Sergeant. I believe she's interested in her own social standing and appearances, and simply wants to make sure she's seen guarding a fashionable colt. It's in my own self-interest to oblige her."

This was turning into a game of the guessing. She was out of the evidence actual, so she turned to questions instead.

"Then what about the Corporal Bound, sir? Has she made no attempt at intimacy?"

"Certainly not. The Corporal has been unfailingly professional."

"She has never shown an interest in the activities of the Great Lord, outside of what is required for her duties?"

Anonymous looked around aimlessly, then shrugged his shoulders. "Well... There's my book, I suppose. The culmination of my work here in Equestria so far. I gave her a copy to read two days ago."

Ah, so that is where she obtained the tome!

"This would be the rather large volume that she has been studying intently upstairs all day, yes? I understand she spent most of yesterday reading this in the library, as well."

That one did seem to fluster him. "I... It is fairly lengthy, yes. And it needs to be read seriously to be understood."

As Ebonshield saw things, there must have been interest from the corporal in him. But she was growing a little tired of always being the one to force the argument, so instead she simply shrugged suggestively.

"If the Great Lord says this is so, then so this must be."

Like a proper hot-blooded colt, he picked up on her false acquiescence.

"I'm not sure I appreciate your tone, Sergeant. What's your interest in this?"

As she replied, she took the final few steps forward until she was standing just in front of his sizable desk. "My interest is in serving the Great Lord to the fullest of my abilities. And, as I am most enthusiastic about this assignment, the Great Lord will perhaps, in his mercy, forgive my eagerness to find out if certain of my abilities will be required."

Pursing his lips, the Engineer Royal looked her over. "I have the distinct impression that you aren't referring to your combat skills, Sergeant."

Matching sarcasm with obsequiousness, she gave a bow.

"The Great Lord is most perceptive. And, may I say, that I look forward to the opportunity..."

That got her nothing more than an arched eyebrow, so she continued. "... I understand that the Great Lord has been in Equestria for many months now, without any form of companionship. Doubtless a colt of his stature has certain appetites which have gone unsatisfied in this time..."

The Engineer Royal continued to look slightly askance at her.

"... If the Great Lord wishes, this would be my privilege to sate them."

Without trying to force it too hard, she put on an inviting look. As much as she was surprised at Specialist Glamerspear for fantasizing in public, she had to admit that the thought of coupling with this colt was exciting. Who knows; as naive as he was about social customs, perhaps this alien would make for an interesting lover.

"I don't want to offend any social customs, Sergeant, but--"

She stopped him right there.

"I take no offense if you decline, sir. But I think you should reconsider."

"And why is that?"

"Because the Princesses -- both of them, or else I would not be here -- have bestowed this boon upon you for a reason most worthy. I am of course not privy to their intentions, but traditionally this has been to make visitors feel welcome."

Taking a sip of what little water remains in his glass, the Engineer Royal dismissed her remark.

"That's ridiculous. I've never felt anything less than welcome here."

"I will not dare to suggest that the Princesses are unaware of your feelings, so then this must have been for another reason, and not simply concern for any desires carnal."

He put down the glass and cocked an eye at her.

"But you just said--"

"I am merely suggesting, Great Lord, that such companionship is simply a means to an end."

Having said her peace, she felt a bit drained. Arguing with colts could be so tiring, sometimes.

At least this one was civil.

The Engineer Royal exhaled sharply, puffing his cheeks. "Frankly, Sergeant, you're suggesting things that I would never have considered possible in Equestrian society. But I can't help but notice that you say 'my people' as if they are distinct from the rest of the nation."

"That is because they are, Great Lord. The 'batponies,' as we are called, are not yet integrated into Equestrian society. My presence here is an attempt to improve on that situation."

Waving a wing and a hoof towards the door, she indicated the rest of the castle.

"... To everypony else, we are as alien as you are, and worse, because we are known to them in their stories as heathens, barbarians, and even monsters."

She grinned.

"... And being such, this is why we still honour such 'barbaric' traditions as the one I have just described."

"I see..."

The colt rubbed the bridge of his nose. "... This is rather a lot to take in at once, Sergeant. Let's hold off discussing this further until later."

"Of course, Great Lord. I intended no upset."

"I think it might also be wise if you would confirm the truth of this 'tradition' with the others."

She cocked her eye at him. "Does the truth of things matter any more now, Great Lord?"

Before he could interject, she continued. "... If one, or several, of your retinue has caught your eye, then I see no reason why -- tradition or no -- you should not feel entitled to respectfully court them. Or likewise, for you to accept or refuse any of their advances, either."

Wearing a sly grin, she shrugged her shoulders.

"... I have already made my proposal, after all. And the offer remains open."

Sucking on his lips, the Engineer Royal nodded. After a moment, he smacked his lips and gave a thin smile. "How about we start with the combat training first, Sergeant."

Ah, the classical diplomatic response. Ebonshield was indeed blessed with a most dignified VIP.

This promised to be a very interesting assignment.

Bowing her head, she retreated back to her post at the door.

"Of course, Great Lord. I shall make the necessary arrangements."

Suggested interlude music: Tchaikovsky - 'Danse Espagnole' [Spanish Dance], from 'Swan Lake'
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=619kpa_xms8

Chapter 57

Artemis Sparkshower

‘Wow, this dress really is something.’

‘And that something is scandalous.’

"I don't know, Lily... It's a bit... unicorn, don't you think?"

Standing on the ground beside the little dressing-area podium, Specialist Artemis Sparkshower's single-horned comrade looked up at her with a grin. "Of course it is; we're in a unicorn fashion shop! And I think what you're wearing ticks all the boxes: it's classic, it's modern, it's fashionable, it's elegant, and it's suitable for dancing."

Frowning, Artemis looked herself over in the triple mirrors.

It was a pretty dress -- what little of it there was. Honestly, it would be easier to describe the dress in terms of what it didn’t have. There weren’t any foreleg sleeves, for one, which was quite a shock. It was also completely without a bustle, flaring outwards only very slightly, before dropping down behind her legs. And there were no layered petticoats or train! The skirt stood alone, a few layers of tulle on top of a base of satin. There was some pleating, but no ruffles.

Artemis almost felt naked.

And with a chest made of embroidered lace, she might as well have been. But, it was a pretty dress. And the blush-pink color did seem to suit her well.

Could she really wear this, though?

"Aren't there going to be an awful lot of Cloudsdale dignitaries and nobleponies at the Gala? I... I'm just a bit worried I'll look out-of-place wearing something that's so far from a traditional Pegasus gown."

Glamerspear smirked and shook her head, and with the chains removed, there was no more jangling noise when she did so. "'Traditional Pegasus gown'? You mean those Peplosian togas?"

Stepping up onto the platform, Artemis saw her horn light up and she felt Lily lift up and adjust the skirt on her.

"This is Canterlot, filly; unicorn fashions are in. And I think you look ready to be someone's bridesmaid in this outfit."

Pacing around, Glamerspear looked her over and made a few more adjustments as she talked. "We can check out the Pegasus shops if you want -- anything to get you out of those country-mare folksy earth pony clothes -- but I think this is as close to 'the one' as we've seen so far."

Satisfied with the small changes she'd made, Lily stepped back down off the podium and Artemis looked herself over once more. It had been almost four hours since they'd left the palace after getting approval from the Royal Engineer, via Corporal Bound. Their first stop was The Strand; Glamerspear spent almost an hour picking herself out a little black dress with an outrageous price tag from Louis Valise.

Then again, everything in there was outrageously priced. Clearly, Captain Mailedhoof wasn't surviving on just his officer's pay. Glamerspear had pored over a few other accessories, and had them added to the order, but it would be up to the Captain if he decided to buy them for her. If he didn't go for it, she said she might grab one or two of them herself to round out the look.

'Never let them dictate control over the purse-strings, Sparks -- If they say you can have twenty bits, try to spend twenty-five.'

That was Lily's piece of advice for Artemis, if she should ever find herself in a similar position as a 'saltine' to a rich noblecolt. Which would be a pretty unlikely turn of events.

After the visit to Louis Valise, they’d hopped into a carriage for a trip across town to Hackney Trot, Canterlot's 'outlet mall.' The stores only sold last year's fashions, but at least the prices were more reasonable. And as far as Artemis was concerned, last year's high-fashion outfits were outrageous enough! It had taken rather longer to pick out something for her from the crowded racks of leftovers.

And the stores were busy, too -- less well-to-do ponies preparing for the Gala were mixed in with ordinary ponies in town for weekend Day Court, taking a little shopping trip on the side. But Artemis’ comrade seemed to know all the tricks and guided her effortlessly from one store to the next, honing in on dress after dress, babbling out loud as she approved or rejected each one for some reason or another.

This was the eleventh dress Artemis had actually tried on. 'Tea-length boat-neck dress in blush-pink. Tulle, satin, and lace, with chiffon rosette,' the label read. It was very pretty.

The pegasus turned in place to look at herself from the side. The lace top blended well with her wings, concealing their true size. Not that she was embarrassed about how big they were, but still, it was a nice feature, and the pale color seemed to work well against her mild cream coat. Plus, her curly golden-yellow mane looked really nice draped over the lace, and it was the same with her tail underneath the tulle skirt. Artemis felt she could see why Glamerspear was pushing this one so hard, and it's not like she was doing it out of exhaustion or anything like that. Ever since spending the night with Captain Mailedhoof, and then getting her spellbinders removed, she'd been more energetic than Artemis had ever seen her.

And more upbeat, too.

So, was this the dress?

Maybe. The wing-slits were still a bit too small for her, however.

Actually, the cut as a whole wasn't quite right -- Artemis had to go a size up just to get it to fit, so now it was too loose in other parts. Unicorn fashion designers seemed to expect that every pegasus was built skinny and lithe! Although to be fair, pegasus designers seemed to make that assumption, too...

It was hard being a pegasus with so much earth pony blood in her. Sometimes it was easier to shop at earth pony stores and then just have them altered for wings.

Artemis frowned at her reflection in the mirror. "If I get this one, Lily, I'll have to get some adjustments made. Is there going to be time for that?"

Glamerspear batted a hoof in her reflected doppelganger's direction. "Don't worry about it. I'm sure this place has an alterations backlog a mile long, like most of the city's tailors this soon before the Gala, but I'll take care of you. I didn't start off getting rich colts to buy me Louis Valise and Coco Pommel dresses, ya know."

Artemis looked down at her almost in shock. "You can sew?"

Lily shrugged. "A little. Enough to turn a cheap dress into something nice, or to fix the cut so it fits properly." Smiling, she looked around at the racks of last year's fashions. “Once I started earning bits, I used to almost live in places like this. Actually, that's not true -- Hackney Trot is unused leftovers from last year's catalogue. I mostly spent my time a step down from here, rooting around in thrift shops full of used clothing; Manehattan is full of 'em. Found some real gems that were years and years old but didn't take too much work to make good as new. I still have a few of them stuffed in the back of my wardrobe."

Waggling her eyebrows, she turned back to Artemis. “Just don't let that secret get out, okay? I don't want random guardsponies coming to me for last-minute alterations. And I definitely don't want my salt-licks thinking they can cheap out on me!"

That revelation had Artemis thinking about where her comrade disappeared to before her big date. "Is that what you were doing yesterday afternoon? We were looking for you, but you hadn't checked out."

She nodded. "Yeah. I was in the laundry fixing up my Artillery Gold-and-Blacks, hunched over a machine. I just wanted to make a couple of changes, but without my horn it wound up taking me all afternoon."

With a sigh, she looked Artemis over and tried to brighten herself up. "So, are you saying 'yes' to this dress?"

Artemis looked over her reflection once more. "I think so... I just wish my Puddin' was here to see before I decide."

"Yeah? He has vocal opinions on fashion?"

Artemis shook her head at the, admittedly, very pretty cream-and-gold mare in the pink dress in front of her. "No... Not really. I doubt he would say anything at all, actually." Turning to look down at her comrade, Artemis sentimentally lifted her eyebrows. "...But I'd just see the reaction on his face, and I'd know if he liked it or not."

Glamerspear softened her expression. "A colt of few words, huh?"

Artemis sighed again at her pretty reflection. "You don't know the half of it. My poor Puddin'... He isn't comfortable speaking in public at all. Sometimes he's not even comfortable speaking to me."

Turning around, she tried to focus her attention on the dress. But all she could see was the missing colt behind her.

"He's so gentle and so kind, but he really has trouble standing up for himself. Why, one time, the Shortcakes forgot to give him his pay at the end of the week -- just an innocent mistake, nothing deliberate -- and he couldn't bring himself to speak up about it, heading home empty-hoofed."

Artemis hopped in place to see the dress bounce. "It took me three days to get it out of him that he hadn't been paid. And then I had to come with him back to the farm, because he wasn't going to be able to ask for it without me there to support him."

The tulle and silk skirt floofed wonderfully as she pranced about. It would look beautiful when she danced around the Maypole.

Provided she had somepony to dance with.

"Communicating isn't his strong suit, even when it's just with me. But I can read him enough to know when something is wrong."

Glamerspear nodded sympathetically. "It sounds like you've got a real deep connection to him."

Artemis licked her lips.

‘Yes, this is the dress.’

"I do, but it takes a lot of work. And sometimes I think that I'm the only one who can understand him. I worry a bit about what happens when I'm not there to help."

Struggling to reconcile the vision of a happy future beside her coltfriend at the Gala with the troubles he could sometimes give her and the possibility that he'd turn the invite down, a tear escaped down the side of her cheek.

As she stood there, blinking to hold back the rest of them, Glamerspear quickly stepped up and tenderly wiped it off her cheek with a hoof. "Hey, hey hey... Look, I'm sorry if I upset you by forcing all this shopping on you."

Artemis shook her head. "No, the shopping didn't upset me. And you're right -- this is the dress, I'm certain of it."

Glamerspear smiled even as she dabbed at the pegasus’ cheek. "That's great. And we can call it a day now if you want to; we can find you some shoes, a fascinator, and a hoofbag some other time."

Artemis lifted up a forehoof, examining one of the cute little Mary Janes Glamerspear had managed to find her in matching pink. "I like the ones you found for me just now. Don't you?"

Lily nodded. "Sure, sure, I just -- if you didn't like them, I didn't want to drag you around any more today, that's all."

"No, I like them. Let's do it."

"Okay. And I'm sorry to get you upset like that. I've got just the idea for a cure, though..." Smiling, she stepped around in front of her and held her by the cheeks. “Usually, shopping is what I like to do when I'm feeling blue, but if that doesn't work, there's nothing like a good massage to take the stress off."

Artemis didn’t know what to think about that. She’d never even had one.

"A massage? You mean, like, at a spa?"

Lily smirked. "Yeah, Sparks, like at a spa. There's a nice little one, 'Spa Dalecarlia' not too far from here. How about it? My treat."

Artemis tried to smile back. "Okay. But let me pay for the dress and the shoes at least -- you can't buy me everything, Lily!"

Glamerspear nodded and then deliberately booped her snoot against hers, which made her giggle.

"Hey, I owe you for putting up with me, okay? And for being a good friend. But if you insist on paying for this, then I'll just have to treat you to a late lunch after the rub-down." Her face lit up and she looked off into the distance. "Oooh, or I know! Instead of just the regular service, I'll treat us to the 'deluxe' regimen!"

'Deluxe' regimen? That raised a few questions in Artemis' mind. She’d heard stories about Canterlot's spas, after all.

"What's involved in that?"

"The 'deluxe' regimen at Spa Dalecarlia? For a pegasus?"

Glamerspear smirked. “That'll be a back and four-leg massage, followed by..."

Dragging it out, she leaned forward and whispered seductively into her left ear.

"...a professional, deep, intense..."

‘Uh-oh…’

"... feather-preening."

‘Oh, my!’

Suggested interlude music: Pharrell Williams - 'Happy'
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZbZSe6N_BXs

Chapter 81

Temper Violetta

Suggested background music: John Phillip Sousa - 'The Pathfinder of Panama', performed by "The President's Own" United States Marines Band [2017]
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q5n_AhS0IeI

This wasn’t supposed to be a part of Lieutenant Violetta’s Area of Concentration.

There were ten VIP quaternions under her command -- as many as forty guardsponies serving as VIP bodyguards under the jurisdiction of the Canterlot Palace Military Office. She briefed them before they started, introduced them to their charges, handled any requests or complaints, read each team leader's weekly report, plus any other reports they may care to make, and debriefed them at the end of their assignment. And since those postings could be as brief as just a day or two, it was a considerable amount of work.

For this task, the Equestrian Royal Guard had seen fit to assign her office a single private for general tasks and running messages. A pair of sergeants served as clerical assistants to the CPMO VIP section as a whole, which consisted of four lieutenants, including herself, under the command of Captain Bute, with a couple more privates trotting around making coffee and running errands.

Generally speaking, it all worked very well. Captain Bute prided himself on the fact that, under his watch, no guardspony had been blindly presented to a VIP without them having been thoroughly briefed on their client's character, profession, habits, daily routines, cutie mark (if applicable), and special needs (if any). In brief, nopony serving the CPMO had ever complained of being unprepared to handle a given VIP.

It was true that sometimes the VIPs themselves complained about their servants, but this was rare. In the two years Violetta had been in the CPMO, a grand total of just two bodyguards had been dismissed. Black marks, to be sure, since her office had the final task of accepting or refusing any graduate sent to her by the VIP Service Training school.

But one thing neither she, nor Captain Bute, nor any of the other three lieutenants in the Canterlot Palace Military Office VIP section had ever had to deal with was a complaint about a VIP and their quaternion from someone else.

And Captain Bute had not been happy to receive it.

Arriving at the scene, Violetta surveyed the damage so far. That insidious batpony, Ebonshield, a supposed 'sergeant first class,’ was sitting in the middle of the otherwise empty stands at the Royal Eastern Cottage palace race track. Lieutenant Violetta wouldn't be surprised if Ebonshield was somehow responsible for the complaint, and she hollered up at the batpony from the ground.

"Sergeant Ebonshield! What's going on here?!"

She was wearing a lot more armor than when the lieutenant had first introduced her, or when she’d come by asking about special armaments for the Royal Engineer; some kind of black-dyed stiff cuirass covered her torso.

"Lieutenant Violetta, good day to you, sir. I do not understand your question?"

The expected non-answer from a devious member of a devious race.

"Sergeant, my office has received a complaint about an unauthorized live-fire exercise being conducted on palace grounds, involving this location, your quaternion, and your VIP! Now, I want an explanation!"

Before the batpony could give her one, Violetta heard the unmistakable crash of Dual-Purpose Improved Conjured Munition rounds slamming into heavy bronze armor. Her head swiveled towards the source of the noise, and she made out a carriage travelling at high speed on the racetrack itself -- yet, without anypony pulling it! -- with Specialist Glamerspear perched atop, hurling rounds up towards an airborne Specialist Sparkshower.

In front, Corporal Bound was sitting next to a very tall somepony encased in a strange, black metal armor -- somepony who could only be Lieutenant Violetta’s most alien and most demanding VIP, Anonymous, By Appointment to Their Majesties Princess Celestia and Princess Luna, Royal Engineer of Equestria.

"Ah, I see, Lieutenant. I think for the explanation you may have it as soon as the Engineer Royal arrives."

Violetta shook her head at the bizarre sight. "What the blazes..."

Watching, stunned, she saw the armored pegasus swing around and make another mock charge on the confusingly unpowered vehicle, only to receive another burst of rounds for her trouble. Mercifully, now that Violetta was down there, she recognized that they weren’t real DPICM spears -- just training munitions.

That was a load off for her eventual report on this situation. Instead of an unauthorized live-fire exercise being conducted on palace grounds, it was an unauthorized simulated-fire exercise being conducted on palace grounds. Provided she could shut things down quickly, it should be possible to brush it all under the rug as just a scheduling mix-up. That would take a weight off the lieutenant’s shoulders and Captain Bute's breath off her neck.

Violetta jumped over the fence and rushed out onto the circuit proper, throwing up her forehooves as she stood on her hind legs in the neatly-cropped grass, still wet and a little muddy from that afternoon's light rainshower.

"Halt! Halt, in the name of the Royal Guard!"

The carriaged continued to trundle towards her, and only now could Violetta see Corporal Bound and the Royal Engineer bending over to fiddle with some kind of controls.

‘What is even keeping that carriage going??’

From the stands, the batpony tried to dissuade Violetta from her course of action. "Ehh, Lieutenant, it may not be advisable to position yourself in this manner. I have observed that--"

Presumably defending her VIP's current activities, Ebonshield’s loyalty to her charge was commendable, but her loyalty to her commanding officer -- herself! -- ought to come first!

"I'm shutting this down, Sergeant, right now!" Violetta returned her attention to the carriage, which was getting menacingly close. "Halt, I say! Corporal Bound, bring that machine to a halt! That's a direct order!"

There was no response, just more hurried-looking fussing about in the front seat.

In the stands, 'Sergeant' Ebonshield stood up. "Lieutenant, I strongly suggest you step aside!"

"Nonsense, Sergeant, they won't dare run me over!"

"This is not in their power to choose!"

As the carriage bore down on Violetta at furious speed, she suddenly realized that the race track was rather narrow in this particular section, and that the carriage was going to occupy most of the space between the fences.

And she was right in the middle of the field.

Looking up with wide eyes, Corporal Bound screamed out at her. "OUT OF THE WAY, WE'VE GOT NO BRAKES!!"

Before she’d even finished hollering her warning, Violetta had already decided to bolt, but on the rain-slick turf, all she could seem to do was slip in place, barely moving. That's when she heard the crack of another burst of DPICM rounds, and a split-second later, she felt something thud into her flank armor. The impact took the breath from her lungs, but it also sent her flying, toppling over sideways as the hapless lieutenant sailed a few hooves in the air and then slid a dozen more on the ground, barely avoiding a post as she was spun away towards the inner fence.

Behind her, Violetta heard the thunder of four carriage wheels go by, accompanied by a strange, repeating 'PFFSHT-PFFSHT-PFFSHT' noise.

Coughing, air returned to Violetta’s throat and she shook her head, before struggling up to her hooves. As the lieutenant dazedly turned to look, the bizarre dogcart suddenly dog-tailed, swerving left and right on the slippery grass, before finally spinning completely around and coming to a stop, fifty meters down the track. A moment later, Sergeant Ebonshield materialized at her side, having fluttered over during the distraction.

"Lieutenant, are you injured?"

Violetta looked at her flank and was relieved to see no blood, only green grass-marks and bits of turf, before turning to Ebonshield with a frown. "I'm fine... I think. What just happened, Sergeant?"

The batpony nodded towards the car. "The carriage of the Engineer Royal has malfunctioned. The Specialist Glamerspear brushed you aside with the force of some of her projectiles, before you could be run over."

Violetta shook her head. "Merciful Celestia..."

Down the track, at the dog-cart, she saw its three occupants shamble out, looking dizzy and disoriented. Specialist Sparkshower landed in front of her VIP and helped him get his bearings, as he proceeded to rip off his helmet.

‘That's the Royal Engineer, all right.’

‘What the Tartarus is going on?’

Violetta saw Anonymous fiddle with something underneath the carriage as Sparkshower checked on her other two quaternion-mates. Shortly after, they all hustled over towards Violetta’s position.

Anonymous was the first to speak, with the corporal panting at his side. "Terribly sorry about that, Lieutenant. We tried to stop, but it turns out we had the brakes applied this whole time out here, and we cooked them so hot they were useless." He turned to the unicorn on his other flank. "Some quick thinking by Specialist Glamerspear got you out of our way; I hope not too painfully."

Violetta nodded, frowning. "I'll be alright. But just what is going on here, my Lord?"

The Royal Engineer chuckled, beaming a smile. "Why, the first-ever test of the first-ever prototype for Equestria's first-ever Self-Propelled Air Defense Weapon, of course! Although, given how well Specialist Glamerspear managed to target you on the ground, maybe we should aim for the first armored car, instead."

‘The what or the what, now?’

"I beg your pardon, sir?"

He nodded his head back to the strange vehicle. "That's my steam-powered carriage. I wanted to see how well Specialist Glamerspear could perform her anti-aircraft duties while mounted in it."

Lieutenant Violetta looked over at the unicorn, whose expression could best be described as a strange combination of exhilaration, dizziness and fear. No doubt the fear was of the 'about to be punished under article 90 for striking an officer' variety. She flexed her hips and found that there was no lasting pain or loss of movement, before nodding at Glamerspear. "I see. I appreciate the last-minute save, Specialist."

That got her a respectful salute and relieved sigh from the pony in question, but Violetta turned her attention to the obvious source of all this trouble. “However, my Lord, I must ask that you cease this activity at once. The Royal Eastern Cottage racetrack is not an appropriate place for an unscheduled training drill."

The tall Very Important Pony who wasn't actually a pony ran his fingers through his hair. "Oh, did we disturb someone? I'm terribly sorry; I was told that when there wasn't a scheduled event here at the track, it was free for any of the palace guests to use."

She’d have to double-check on that one; it was probably true, though.

"I'm not aware of the rules in detail, m'Lord, but regardless, if such a free use was permitted it would be for purely civilian activities, and not a simulated-fire military drill."

At this, the bipedal creature looked a bit sheepish. "Ah. I suppose we were making a bit of a racket, weren't we? Well, I do apologize, Lieutenant. I'm afraid I've been a bit over-eager to get this project off the ground." Wiping his brow, he flicked up the helmet in his hands. "We'll certainly halt for now. But since you're here, perhaps you can help us locate a more appropriate venue?"

Violetta frowned, and looked over the crew assembled before her. Now that it was clear no one was injured and no one was about to be seriously punished, there was a mixture of faces in the little circle. The Royal Engineer, of course, looked bright-eyed and enthusiastic. Corporal Bound seemed apologetic, but showed no sign of wanting to gainsay her VIP. Specialist Glamerspear had a strange look of satisfaction on her face, like she'd just solved some intractable problem. Specialist Sparkshower, having flipped up her bascinet helm, was panting with a broad grin on her face. Even 'Sergeant' Ebonshield wore a curiously delicate smile.

The lieutenant sighed. It was clear that the Royal Engineer was using his VIP quaternion as more than mere bodyguards. Instead of treating them as the decorations that they generally were, or even making use of them in more... 'archaic' ways, he was involving them in his actual day-to-day work.

That made things complicated.

She looked over the quaternion. "To be quite honest, sir, involving your VIP bodyguards in activities of this manner is quite unorthodox." Switching her gaze back to the Royal Engineer, she couldn’t help but notice the sudden elimination of several of their smiles. "The Royal Guard has its own Ordnance Department for fielding tests of military prototypes like what you're proposing. Wouldn't it be better for you to work with ponies from that branch to develop your prototype?"

The black-metal-clad biped sighed and shrugged his shoulders. "I suppose... The thing is, Lieutenant, I'm not actually trying to develop the prototype. It's just a means to an end." He turned sideways and gestured at the car. "That vehicle is the herald of a new industrial era for Equestria. I want to show off the vehicle to Princess Celestia and whoever else might be impressed with it, in order to secure a next step in funding. I thought throwing together a little military demonstration would help make the case even better than just the civilian applications."

Violetta turned to Corporal Bound, feeling more confused than ever. "Corporal, I'm expecting your weekly report tomorrow, but since I'm clearly missing some important pieces right now, perhaps you'd care to bring me up to speed on what's happened since last Wednesday?"

The earthy pony swallowed and then looked around and began, somewhat hesitantly. "Quite a lot, Lieutenant Violetta, ma'am. The Royal Engineer built a carriage powered by water and lamp oil, to which you've already been introduced. I assisted a little in its construction, and I've been serving as the Lord Engineer's test driver."

The Lord in question patted her reassuringly on the shoulder. "And you've been doing an excellent job!"

Emboldened, Corporal Bound continued. "Thank you, sir. Lieutenant, the Royal Engineer also ordered, and received, the suit of custom armor which he's presently wearing. And, yesterday, we went down into the Night Guard Rookery under Canterlot Mountain where-"

Instantly Violetta threw her hooves up to her ears. "Ta-ta-ta-ta-ta, I don't want to hear it! Don't-Ask-Don't-Tell, remember! I'm still subject to it."

Anonymous chuckled. "Come now, Lieutenant, don't be ridiculous. Princess Luna absolved the members of my quaternion from DADT when she gave us all the batponies' backstory. You asked for a report, and if you can't hear it from the Corporal, then I can give it to you instead."

Violetta lowered her hooves and shook her head. "If it doesn't have anything to do with this carriage of yours, then I'm not interested in it at the moment, my Lord. Let's stick to the matter at hoof."

Corporal Bound piped up again. "Look, Lieutenant, it's just like the Royal Engineer said. We're all helping him out with this demonstration, and even though it's not a normal part of VIP duties, I think I speak for everypony when I say we're enthusiastic about doing it. And since the Royal Engineer's on a tight schedule, there must be some way we can get this done without hoofing everything over to Ordnance."

As she’d feared, there were enthusiastic nods all around. Sitting down, Violetta brought her hooves up to her eyes to wipe away some of the chunks of grass that got embedded in her helmet after her little power-assisted emergency egress. As she did so, visions of requisition and scheduling forms danced in her head.

Well, at least it was better than court-martial letters and formal reprimands.

Sighing, she lowered her forehooves and looked around. "All right, my Lord. I think I can manage to book you an appropriate time for your exercises -- and for your demonstration, too, if you need me to do it. But if you're going to test or demonstrate an anti-aircraft weapon in Canterlot airspace, then you're going to need approval from the sector air defense commander. It was the regular palace air patrol that reported the unauthorized firing going on here."

Anonymous nodded. "Understandable. Tell me who to talk to, and I'll present my formal apologies to them, along with a request to continue our activities."

Violetta swallowed. "Yes, my Lord. The thing is, though..."

Clearing her throat, she continued. "...ahem... The pony in charge of Canterlot Sector air defense is Major-General Georgia Hoofstrong, commander of the First Air Division. And, since you just had me write up one of her Lieutenants for court-martial offences last week..."

She grit her teeth.

"... You may find her… intransigent."

Chapter 99

Artemis Sparkshower

Specialist Artemis Sparkshower was not one-hundred-percent certain she understood what was going on.

"Okay, I've marked it off. Now, we'll cut it down..."

The Royal Engineer did understand, though, and he was giving Artemis a play-by-play report that made things a little less muddled, at least. His car was raised up on stands a good seven hooves up in the air, and she was hovering in place beside him underneath it, helping to hold up a long, brass pole that he'd just marked off with chalk. But now he’d decided to take the pole all by himself before stepping over to his workbench, laying it in a heavy iron vise.

"Could you hand -- uh, hoof -- me the hacksaw over there?" The Royal Engineer pointed at a toolbox on the ground, and Artemis fluttered over to grab the tool in question while he clamped the pole in place.

Returning to her Very Important Pony, she hovered and watched as he put on his safety goggles, and then began to work.

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‘Cutting metal sure is noisy!’

And slow, too -- four full strokes and he'd barely made a small notch in the brass pole. Anonymous paused for a second to wipe his brow on his sleeve. It'd been a long couple of hours, working in the garage. So far, he had drilled holes in the carriage near the driver's seat, measured several brass poles by test-fitting them underneath, cut those same poles down, and then threaded the ends with a die so that they could be bolted together.

Artemis was sweating a bit herself, and she wasn’t even doing most of the work; she was just helping out by lifting and holding things. The garage was poorly ventilated, not really being designed for this kind of major undertaking. It had been a very warm spring day today, too. Artemis would have been sweating a lot more if the Royal Engineer hadn't insisted that she leave her armor behind.

"Damn, these bars are tough. Or maybe it's the saw that's weak. You know, I probably should've ordered a hollow tube for lightness, but I didn't want to take a chance on it bending or breaking." Exhaling forcefully, he pulled off his work gloves and began to unbutton his denim overalls. "This rod is going to be controlling the brakes, after all. Can't have those failing while we're driving about."

Tearing his shoulders and arms out of the heavy work clothes, he slipped his gloves back on. Now all he had covering his skin up top was a simple white sleeveless shirt, with his legs still in the overalls.

"Ahh, that's better. It's hot in here." With a satisfied sigh, he continued to saw, sending little shavings of metal showering down on the floor.

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Eyes down on the work, he talked in-between huffs and puffs of air. "By the way, Specialist, is that a different weapon you've got with you today?"

Despite being ordered to leave her armor upstairs, she hadn't come completely unprepared for a fight. After all, that was her primary duty!

"Yes, sir. It's a magic weapon: the 'Bradamante' lance, made by Anthony Theolonicus almost three hundred years ago. Major Lady Growler, the commander of the Valkyries, gave it to me yesterday after we ran into her at the Spa Dalecarlia."

She pulled the item in question off of her back and presented it with her forehooves, still in its 'compact' form.

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"It sounds impressive; that was very generous of her. Was there a particular motivation for the gift?"

Artemis shrugged, feeling a little embarrassed. "Lady Growler said it was an apology for having accused me of spying at the Watchtower, sir. And a reward for having helped to beat Kilfeather; apparently, her Valkyries had a rivalry at the MXP games with his Air Superiority Wing."

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"Interesting. And it's magic, you say? Is that what the stirrup's for?"

"Yes, sir, it activates-"

‘Wait.’

‘He knows what a stirrup is?’

Surely not. She must have misheard.

"... Sorry, you said 'stirrup,' sir?"

Anonymous paused and glanced up from his work, then pointed at the device. "Yes, a stirrup. As on a saddle? That's what that is, dangling from that strap, isn't it?"

‘He…’

‘He knows what a saddle is, too?’

How was that even possible!? Her Very Important Pony wasn't from this world, and he wasn't even a pony! How could he possibly know about stirrups and saddles…?

As she watched the tall, strong, swift, smart, and amiable alien saw away, his arms glistening with sweat in the light from the magical torches, she started to feel a bit light-headed.

‘I... I have to land right now.’

Swallowing, Artemis alighted on one of the tall stools nearby, but her wings refused to fold up. Hopefully, he wouldn’t notice. She lowered her voice to almost a whisper, even though the garage was empty inside but for the two of them.

"... Uhm... You... You know what a saddle is, sir?"

Anonymous chuckled as if she’d said something silly. "Heh. Of course I do, Specialist. We have them in my world, too."

‘He does!’

‘And they do!?’

With a smile, he returned to his sawing.

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"You could even say I'd used one, though that might be pushing things. It was at a tourist ranch, just a little pleasure ride for about an hour. I didn't fall off or anything like that, but I didn't really feel like I was in control of anything with the reins."

‘HE'S RIDDEN IN A SADDLE WITH REINS AND STIRRUPS!’

‘AND HE ADMITTED IT OPENLY!’

‘WHAT is going on right now?!’

Was it a prank? Did Lily or Purity, or maybe even Honour put him up to this? But how did they even know that she was into-

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"It was fun, but all things being equal, I think I prefer riding my Mustang."

Okay, now that last one there didn't make really any sense at all to her. Unless Anonymous had a formerly-enlisted-Royal-Guardspony-who-became-an-officer-later locked away in a secret room somewhere…

Locked away, maybe, with a bit in their mouth, a bridle around their muzzle, a saddle on their back...

Waiting to be ridden...

Longing... to be ridden...

...maybe even with a crop...

Artemis found her mouth growing dry; she was panting heavily.

‘No, no!’

‘The Royal Engineer isn’t that kind of pony, he couldn't be!’

‘... Except he isn’t a pony, at all.’

‘Oh, hurricanes!’

It was all so overwhelming. There she was, just a day after… Well, she didn’t even want to think about what day this was after; not yet.

Anyways, there she was, and she’d just found out that the colt she was assigned to guard, the colt who took her out to the theater as a friend rather than a servant, the colt who offered her a free ticket to the Grand Galloping Gala as a full guest, the colt who had never been anything less than a pure-hearted and soft-spoken gentlepony...

That colt had experimented with... tackplay. And he spoke freely about it! Which is what was truly remarkable. Was it simply the confidence that came from experience? Or was he so confident and assured of his position that he didn't fear any potential social embarrassment? Or, since he seemed to be speaking of an event that happened before arriving in Equestria, maybe his society was just more open-minded about that sort of thing.

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"Anyways, I'm losing my focus. You can show me the lance tomorrow, when we go down into the Rookery. Let's get these connecting rods bolted into place before I'm too worn out to go for a jog afterwards."

Seeing the Royal Engineer in a new light, albeit a confusing one, Artemis watched her VIP saw through the brass pole.

‘Maybe…’

Artemis took a deep breath.

Maybe when she was feeling a little more level-headed about her situation, and when she was in private again, she could ask him a little more about his experience at the 'tourist ranch.'

Heads up: Lily's segment contains clop. Clop segment ends at Purity Ebonshield.

Lily Glamerspear

Suggested background music: The Rascals - 'Mustang Sally' [1966]
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=E2NLNxTVLAI

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This was the squeakiest bed Specialist Lily Glamerspear had been in since 'shoe camp. But that wasn’t really what should have been the foremost thing on her mind right then.

"Ahhh!" Another electrifyingly pleasurable shock coursed through her spine as the colt on top of the unicorn rammed home another bullseye.

"Yeah, who's your sire?"

Lily hadn't realized Mailedhoof was a talker. He didn't say much last time, but then again, she didn't give him much to talk about, and she didn't really pay attention after she’d done her duty with the 'amuse-bouche' appetizer.

This time, he'd gone straight for the main course.

The talking wasn't really doing much for her, for no particular reason, but she played along for his enjoyment. "Ooh, you are, Monty, you are."

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SLAP

A forehoof swiftly slapped Lily’s plot, just behind her cutie mark, and she bit her lower lip as the sudden contact triggered an echo of the earlier sensation.

"...Mmfff!"

On top of her, Montgomery Mailedhoof leaned into her ear and growled as he thrust in again. "That's no way to address a superior officer."

Pushing back as best she could, Lily turned her head and moaned in a breathy voice. "Ohhhmmm... You are, Captain, you are... sir." She could feel her eyes roll back into her head as he plowed deeper inside, stimulating areas that had been neglected for far too long.

"Yes, I am..."

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Another grunt, and even more hip-on-hip contact made her momentarily lose control of her neck muscles, and her head collapsed against the bedspread. No wonder Lily barely remembered the first encounter, except for the explosions going off in her head. Captain Montgomery Mailedhoof was dynamite between the sheets, and the colt knew it, too.

"... Now, tell me you want it."

‘Buck, do I ever.’

"I want it."

Mailedhoof scratched her itch like no other colt she’d been with.

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And from her oral experience last week, she knew it wasn't so much the length as he knew just the right angle to-- "MMMMFFff!" --Yeah, just the right angle to get it where she needed it most.

"How badly do you want it, Specialist?"

‘Oh so now we’re using ranks?’

He must have a thing for enlisted ponies; maybe subordinate officers, too.

"I want it, sir..."

That got her another pleasing thrust, though it wasn’t quite a-- "Ahhh!" And that was the electric-pulse spot touched off again. When Lily recovered her senses, she gave the follow-up phrase she knew he was expecting.

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"Ooooh, I want it bad."

Another slap, on the other side of her plot. Another hind-hoof-kickingly-delightful echo.

"You need it, don't you, you dirty little grunt."

‘Buck, and to think Honour almost cucked me out of tonight with her stupid hang-ups about duty and service.’

"Gnnnnhhh." Lily’s body convulsed backwards involuntarily, like a reflex for seeking out pleasure. Not that she was going to order it to do anything different.

"... Yes, mmmmhh, I need it, Captain..."

Did he want her to beg? Some colts liked that.

"I don't believe you. Convince me."

Yeah, he wanted her to beg.

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"... I need it, Captain, oh, I need it... NGHHnn-Aahahhh! Yes!"

For a moment, she touched ecstasy -- but just for a moment. Mailedhoof wasn’t done having his way with her quite yet.

"Have you ever had anypony as good as me?"

Celestia, the only thing dwarfing the bed skills of this colt was his ego. She could put up with that, particularly given that his purse wasn't too much smaller, either.

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Lowering her forehooves to angle her rear up even higher, Lily shook her head. "No, never, sir. You're -- Oooooohhh! -- You're the best, sir."

One of her eyes refused to stay completely shut, fluttering open and closed like she was having a stroke.

She really needed this.

Tartarus, she deserved this after all the hard work she’d put in this week! VIP duty was supposed to be eight hours of standing around a day, nights out on the town, with or without the Very Important Pony in question.

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Well, despite having Captain Mailedhoof in her sights, it’s not like she would have said 'no' if the Royal Engineer had asked for a little 'private service', too. Okay, maybe not initially -- not when she still thought he was a weird, hairless, too-tall monkey-creature.

"Who's the best, Specialist?"

Panting heavily, Lily stopped to swallow and brush the drool from her mouth.

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"Ah-huh... Ahh... You're the best, Captain Mailedhoof. You're the best."

From the open-mouthed grunt she received in reply, she could tell he was close to finishing.

‘He's not going to leave me hanging, is he?’

After the railing he gave her last week, she sure hoped not...

"Say it again, grunt!"

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Despite being ready to burst, he didn’t let up his pace even for an instant.

"You're the best, Captain Mailedhoof! You're the best and... and I need it... And I need it..."

‘He'd better slow down or else--’

"Gnnnnngggghhhhh!"

There was a burst of energy as he exploded inside her, but it wasn’t enough to throw her over the edge.

‘Damn -- and I was so close, too.’

Her eyes opened and she whimpered as she felt the noblecolt body suddenly grow heavy on her back. After a moment without motion, there was another slap on her plot.

"Ahh!"

It sent shivers down her legs and up her back, but it was a cruel tease, as the Captain pulled his boat out of Lily’s harbor.

HUUUURNNNNNNNN-HUAAAAAAAA...

Lily heard hooves touch the floor as the bed creaked one last time, and the wastebasket rattled as something was thrown into it.

"Clean yourself up and you can see yourself out. My family is back, so evenings are off until after the Gala; I'll call if something else opens up during the day."

More hoofsteps, and then the door to Captain Mailedhoof's palace-chamber's 'extra guest room' opened and closed without any further ceremony.

‘Buck, what an asshole.’

Well, Lily didn't go after him for his personality. Rolling onto her back, she stared up at the ceiling, still half breathless. She was still so wound up, she was tempted to give herself a quick finish right there. At least it was more private than trying to do it in the quarters above the Royal Engineer's chambers.

‘Well, why not?’

Only, Lily couldn’t think about Montgomery Mailedhoof -- not after how he’d just discarded her like he did the used leather protective sheath. The Royal Engineer would never treat his mare that way, she was certain...

‘Hmmm…’

She thought back to the way he'd energetically rolled around in the sand with Sergeant Ebonshield; that stamina, that strength, that drive...

Lily shut her eyes and lowered her forehooves as her mind drifted back to the manaburn-induced fever dreams she’d had about him.

And that contour-tracing halter shirt...

And those tight shorts...

And that revealing swimsuit...

With the bulge that left just enough to her imagination.

"Mmmmmmmmmmmmm...ohh ohh ohhhhhh... ahhhhhhhh."

It was a quiet one, but it was no less satisfying. A tingling sensation pulsed through Lily’s body, and then a fainter echo, and then another even fainter echo...

She took a deep breath and felt ready to pass out. But she abruptly remembered she was not in her own room, and she’d already been 'invited' to leave. So, with a grumble, Lily Glamerspear rolled off the bed and onto her hooves.

All the looks she’d get from wearing that Louis Valise dress to the Gala would make this all worth it.

Who knows?

Maybe she’d even get one from her tall VIP...

Purity Ebonshield

Suggested background music: Howard Mostrom - 'UEF Battle 4', from 'Supreme Commander 2' [2010]
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DoCYGUiOtWY

'Arconte' Pureza Ébanoscudo was on the cusp of victory. And, even better, her opponent did not realize it.

"Okay, so I'll have this squad of Solis Militibus troopers advance ten centimeters and seize objective 'C'..." With his telekinesis, Gilberto Corazón-de-León lifted the small painted metal miniatures of ponies clad in heavy armor of gold, and then lay them down around the small white gazebo which indicated the objective in question.

Thus wandering blindly into Ebonshield’s trap.

"... That's one victory point for me. And..." With a small tape, he measured the distance from them to the batpony’s closest unit, which she knew already to be too far for his weapons to reach. "... And they can't attack anybody this round, so they'll just sit there for now. My 'Solis Militibus' forces control one victory point as do your 'Tenebrequum,' with one still up for grabs. Round three begins. Your turn, Miss Purity."

‘¡Bueno!’

With the flick of a forehoof, Ebonshield flipped over one of the three face-down 'Artis Secretum' cards in front of her. "I will begin by using this card magical, 'Avarus Ollam,' which allows me to move two of my troops out of the reserve and onto the board."

Using her wing-tip fingers, she delicately plucked eight models out of her sideboard, laying them out one-by-one onto the play area in two groups of four. Though they were not yet painted, their appearance was unmistakable -- they were batponies, posed in writhing forms and armed with twisted blades.

And they are exactly within shooting range of the gazebo.

"... These 'Maleficari' will immediately open fire upon your 'Solis Militibus'-"

Gilberto, his brow furrowed, cried out. "Wait a minute! That card lets you place them both on the board, but you can only activate one group per turn!"

Ebonshield put on an air of disappointment, and he grinned. "Nice try, though, Miss Purity. Two squads of Maleficari would've done some real damage."

That is when she flipped over the other 'Artis Secretum' card.

"... Ah yes, I have forgotten, I play also this card, 'Sagittarius,' which allows one squadron to shoot in support of the unit which is active."

The face of Gilberto turned from smug relief to concerned horror.

"... These 'Maleficari' shall use their poison bolts for this attack, which means..."

Ebonshield had to glance over at the notes she took. There were quite a lot of numbers and figures and rules to remember! But it was such an unusual thing, a game, a toy for children, which taught them war. And the artistry of the figures was wonderful as well! If only the Children had known that Equestria could combine arts and warfare in such a manner, perhaps they would never have dreamed of attempting La Reconquista...

"... That I may re-roll a single time any die which comes up as '1.'"

Ebonshield scooped up eight of the six-sided-dice in one wing.

Those, at least, were familiar. Gambling had its adherents on the Moon, and although she had no particular affinity for the sport, as it was a popular pastime among Rocks and Stars, she was forced by her profession to know it well enough.

Tossing the dice onto a free area of the map, she counted up the first attack. "There are here five dice which show a number of four or greater, the number to wound your 'Solis Militibus' troopers, yes? And now I shall re-roll the single '1'..."

Again using her wing tip, she flicked the die into the air and watched it land, conveniently on the '6'. "...That is now six wounds. Now you must roll for your armor, yes?"

Gilberto warily picked up six of the dice in his telekinetic aura and rolled them on his side of the table. The result did not please him.

"Only one save... Okay, so five troopers fall..."

Removing the figures back to his sideboard, he stared down at the gazebo which had become so soaked with blood. "...I guess I have to charge your 'Maleficari' if I don't want to eat another attack like that, since they outrange me. But even with half a squad, I can probably still beat you in melee."

Ebonshield shook her head. "I am sorry, poor Gilberto, but... Do you not now need to roll for the fear?"

His eyes went wide. "Oh... Yeah, they're down to fifty percent of their number. That's a morale check..." He picked up a single die, and swallowed deeply. "...At minus one because they lost that fifty percent in one round... Uhhh..."

Taking a deep breath, he shook his head and laughed, sitting up straight, waving a forehoof, and putting strong energy into his voice. "But these are the Empress' finest! The 'Solis Militibus' know no fear! They will survive to crush your vile 'Tenebrequum' under the banners of the Divine Alicorn! Provided they roll no less than '4'..."

He flung the die into the air, and it landed back on the table, rolling towards the gazebo only to stop at '3'.

"... Crap. Okay, so they run..."

He rolled again, and got '5'.

"... ten centimeters. And since there's no friendly troops in range for them to run to, they have to run directly away from the attack..."

Now, at last, the understanding dawned upon him. Ebonshield did not waste two of her precious 'Artis Secretum' cards merely to kill five of his troops and force the other five to flee. She spent them in a wager that he would be forced to flee exactly towards her main force of 'Tenebrequum' warriors, where they would be torn to shreds.

"... Uhhhh. Huh. I'm about to lose this whole squad, aren't I?"

With enthusiasm, she nodded. "Sí, mi chico. And this objective, this gazebo, he will now remain mine using only one group of the 'Maleificari' inexpensive for the rest of the match; your 'Sol Militum' troops will be too slow to make their way there if they are tied down with my main force, as they shortly shall be. And I will hold the objective central since I hold it already."

Sitting up straight, she extended her wings to cast a shadow over the entire play area. "The question, mi amor, is will you be capable of defeating my main force at that objective and also of dislodging my stubborn warriors who even now dig in at the objective 'A' as well? Before the die speaks that the game is ended?"

Gilberto tapped one forehoof on the table, nodding his head as he surveyed the battlefield. "Very sneaky, Miss Purity. I've still got two of my 'Secretum' cards to your one, but it's going to be a tough fight. You sure you never played 'Hyperspace Hyperwars' before?"

She shook her head. "No, never. Though I have made some efforts to study it since I saw you play it with your Brotherhood of the 'Rho Gamma Mu.' And this strategy of war, she is familiar to me, of course. So, please do not be upset if you lose."

Gilberto crossed his forehooves in front of him. He was trying to appear friendly, but she could tell that he was a little upset. "Oh, yeah? Well, you know, strictly speaking, by official rules you're not supposed to play with unpainted miniatures. You already lost the second you pulled them out."

‘Really?’

‘But painting is so difficult!’

Ebonshield looked down at the three 'Tenebrequum' warriors which she’d attempted to paint. Rather than looking menacing and dark, as these twisted and hedonistic villains fictional were portrayed in the rulebook, they instead resembled things which had wandered accidentally into the market stall of a merchant of the spices and the dyes. She would have to try again; she had fine controls over her wing-fingers and her hooves, but the art of the blade was clearly quite different from the art of the paintbrush. Purchasing the rule-book and some of the figures had been simple enough, using the bits which were her surface-salary. Perhaps one of the Rocks would accept some tobacco or avocados in trade...

That was a matter for another night, however.

Ebonshield surveyed the table, happy with the success of her plan, but disappointed to have missed a more important rule. "Ah... Then the game is ended, yes?"

Gilberto nodded. "I mean, yeah. If you want to play by official rules, yeah. Sorry."

She perked immediately up. "¡Bueno! Then it is time to move on!"

Hopping off her seat, Ebonshield quickly rounded the table towards her current beau, pressing herself up against him, chest to chest. "Now, having taught you a lesson in the strategy clever here on this table, I shall now teach you things in another subject in which I am proficient."

Gilberto licked his lips, nervously. "Uh... What's that, Miss Purity?"

She grinned as she pushed her muzzle up against his neck. "Tonight, mi amore, I will teach you a skill most essential for the amorous colt, a skill which is both mental and physical, but when mastered, grants the potency supreme..."

Extending her tongue, she licked gently his ear, watching as this flicked with excitement.

"...The art of self-control."

She had not planned on giving this lesson particular tonight, but, since he was being stubborn, and since the 'Tenebrequum' are, in 'Hyperspace Hyperwars,' the masters of all things painful and pleasurable… Since she was the 'Arconte' of the 'Tenebrequum,' why not a lesson which combined both?

Honour Bound

‘The impossible has happened.’

Corporal Honour Bound was with Sergeant Alexander Castlerook, on a date, and she felt comfortable. Relaxed, even. The fact that Castlerook made sergeant before her wasn’t bothering her at all. And the uncomfortable Fillydelphia memories that previously accompanied him weren’t showing up either. She wasn’t even half-drunkedly upset that he hadn’t put a move on her yet.

Although she was definitely half-drunk. It'd been a couple of hours since dinner, but the drinks kept coming. Coming slowly, sure, but still coming.

Placing his beer glass back down on the table, Alexander -- Alex -- looked at Honour with those warm green eyes of his.

"So, I've been thinkin', Honour..."

She watched as he glanced away and licked his lips. "...When the Gala's over, an' me an' the 186th march back to Filly'..."

He looked at her again, and she noticed the barest hint of creases that had started to form above his cheeks, around his eyes. They didn’t make him look old, though; they make him look dignified. Alex leaned in over his drink, but she didn't feel the urge to tense up -- which was itself a relief.

"... I'd like it an awful lot if you'd come back with me."

There it was, in no uncertain terms. Castlerook had been the other colt -- all through her youth and then her disaster of a marriage.

And it didn't scare her at all to hear him say it.

She sighed out loud -- Her! Sighing like some little filly on her first date!

But that didn’t bother her, either. Everything was just too relaxed, too calm.

Nodding, Honour answered him. "I think I'd like that too, Alex..."

The nod turned to a head-shake. "...But I can't leave here in a week. Not until this assignment is over."

Alex bobbed his head sideways and picked up his beer in a hoof. "You wouldn't be the first pony to bow out of a VIP assignment. It won't mean anything in the 186th; everypony's heard the horror stories out of the Palace."

Honour continued shaking her head, and she laughed. "Believe me, Alex, I was probably telling half of them myself." Taking a deep breath, she sat up in the comfortable club chair and looked over at her date across the lounge's stylish black-glass table. "But this assignment's different, Alex. I don't think there's ever been a Very Important Pony like this one -- and he's not even a pony!"

Castlerook lifted an eyebrow as he took a sip of his beer.

Honour shrugged and shook her head once more. "He's considerate, he's smart, he's kind -- and he's working on something that's genuinely important to Equestria."

Pointing a hoof, she leaned forward slightly. "And he's got the four of us in his quat' helping him out. I can't abandon him." Laughing, she shrugged again. "I mean, buck, I'm the test driver for his new self-propelled carriage."

That got her another eyebrow raise -- a double, this time -- but eventually, after some consideration and another sip of beer, Alex nodded his head.

"Okay..." With a smile, he shrugged. "...Okay. I guess, since I waited a year to make m'self known, I can wait a couple more months, if that's what you need..."

Alex's green eyes ran her up and down. Honour felt her cheeks start to flush. Part of her wished she really could leave with him -- not even next week, but right now.

"... I do want you to see you again, Honour. If not in Filly', then..." He scoffed and turned his head sideways, shaking it. "... Then I dunno. I ain't no good at figurin' out plans for the future like that."

Honour furrowed her brow and leaned forward, extending a sympathetic hoof. "That's not true, Alex. If you weren't, they would've never made you sergeant."

Looking rueful and more than half-drunk, he whinnied, but he took her hoof in his own. "Yeah, well... If I was a better planner, maybe I would'a figured out what to say before you got fed up with everythin' an' left."

Inhaling deeply, she sucked in her lips and patted his hoof. "I don't know if anything could've stopped me going. A year and a half ago, I'd had my fill of Filly'..."

Sitting back again, she kept her hoof with his. "... I guess that's why I never answered any letters or wrote any of my own."

Castlerook's sheepish face turned back into that gentle smile she liked so much. "Yeah..."

Then he took a deep breath and pushed his forehoof a little more into hers.

"... I do have some news on that front I should share, though it'll prob'ly spoil the mood."

Honour was so calm and relaxed that she really doubted any news from Fillydelphia could upset her.

Alex coughed awkwardly. "...We got new marching orders yesterday. Until the day of the Gala itself, we're helping to patrol the docks down at the river..."

Honour scrunched her face up a little. "Weird. What's going on there?"

Alex inhaled sharply through his nose. "Wellll... It turns out this year marks the two-hun'red-an'-fiftieth anniversary of the Equestrian Merchant Marine. So, as a result, a coupl'a months ago they held a big ol' lottery." He nods his head. "Somethin' like one in every hun'red civilian cargo ships in Equestria got invited to the Gala, wholesale -- captain, officers, an' crew. That's over sixty lucky boats, an' they're showin' up now, packin' into the harbor tight as sardines."

Honour raised her eyebrows. "No wonder they need the extra help down there. Three times as many boats as usually come in to dock? Canterlot wharf ponice must be swamped."

Alex nodded, but he licked his lips and looked her in the eyes, and she knew he hadn't said everything quite yet.

"Yeah... An' there's a coupla' ships from Filly', too. Names you'd recognize, even..."

From the way he was talking, she knew he was still holding something back.

"So?"

Castlerook swallowed. "Honour, the 'Tambermane' is one of 'em..."

‘Oh, buck.’

He looked down at his drink and sighed. "...An' Leeward is aboard her."

Honour closed her eyes.

"... He's the bos'n, now. I met him yesterday, an' he's got one of those golden tickets just like everypony else."

‘Buck.’

In her entire life, Honour never thought that she would ever attend the Grand Galloping Gala. It was such a far-away possibility that she had disregarded it entirely. But now it was happening, and just this once she’d gotten a ticket to Equestria's greatest annual social event. And as a full guest, too, not as some bodyguard shunted into a separate wardroom. Even though she had never really desired it, she knew it was something special, and something worth treasuring.

Unlike Glamerspear, Honour didn't care who saw her.

Unlike Sparkshower, Honour didn't care whom she saw.

Just being there would be like having a dream come true. A childish dream, sure; an infantile fantasy that she’d long since pushed completely out of her mind. And now, here it was: reality.

Except he was going to be there too.

‘Buck.’

Chapter 126

Suggested background music: New Order - 'Confusion' [1983]
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c_L_-CKg6pw

This is not what she’d had in mind when her boss said they’d be going to one of the innumerable Grand Galloping Gala pre-parties tonight. She’d expected nobleponies hobnobbing over glasses of expensive booze. Maybe some live music and dancing. And the occasional mare or colt splurging on a second extravagant costume in what was already a busy week, or perhaps simply showing off what they wore last year.

But this party was on a completely different level.

Yes, there was alcohol, and yes, there was live music and dancing. There were even a few extravagant getups. But a full-on masquerade ball?

In a converted dockside warehouse?

And with the party doubling, apparently, as an avant-garde art exhibit, complete with new-wave band?

She took a moment to adjust the full-muzzle mask she’d been issued at the door as she wound her way through the crowd after her VIP. Temporary walls made of brightly-colored cloth draped between posts formed a virtual labyrinth within the huge edifice, and an eclectic arrangement of pulsating magical lights made it all too easy to get completely lost.

Some of those 'walls' had what she thought was supposed to be art hanging from wires in front of them. Canvases with abstract splashes of clashing tones, lines that vaguely resembled ponies before twisting into unrecognizable shapes, and even splotches that looked like something up and died all over the piece. A series of five apparently identical portraits of the same mare in an emotionless pose were lit from behind, giving them an eerie appearance.

She rounded a corner and was nearly struck dumb by the sight of a stunningly handsome white pegasus colt standing on a slightly raised platform, perfectly preened, gossamer wings outstretched as though they were mid-flap, and rearing back as if mid-flight. Spotlights from all around bathed the figure in pure white, turning him into an icon of brilliance for all to admire. The reflected light actually noticeably brightened the room; every single one of his feathers was on full display.

Pausing for a second, she scrutinized the installation.

‘That has to be some kind of statue, right?’

‘No way could somepony hold that mid-action pose for so long.’

Just as she started to get going again, the figure stepped back and shifted his weight, blinking as he relaxed one set of muscles and flexed another.

‘That's amazing.’

Scurrying a bit, she hurried past the well-formed and apparently extremely disciplined pegasus model. He was the first pony she’d seen here not wearing one of the mandatory-dress, white, full-face masks. The masks weren't completely identical, with slightly different ornamental designs around the eyes, mouth, and edges, but they sure made everypony look the same -- particularly from the rear. At least the serving-ponies with saddle-trays of drinks and appetizers had big, ostrich-feather plumes attached to their masks, making them stand out in the crowd.

She left the living-statue pegasus colt and passed through an open red curtain into another busy room. This one had another live show, with a bigger 'stage'.

Ahead, her VIP stopped to grab a drink from a passing server -- ‘is that a zebra?’ She had an enormous mane, standing straight up almost the length of the black and white ostrich-feathers adorning her mask.

‘That has to be a weave.’

In the confusion of the kaleidoscopic lights, it took her a minute to notice that the mare was wearing provocative, horizontal zebra-stripe stockings almost up to her stifles, too.

Her boss took a moment to sip his drink and ask for directions, so she took in the room's main show. Two enormously muscular earth pony colts with bronze bands around their ankles, wrists, and necks were performing incredible feats of acrobatic prowess. Holding forehooves, one of the colts balanced on his forelegs, hind legs in the air, while the other slowly lifted him up higher. Once up, they played at balancing on just one hoof, extending hind or forelegs in opposite directions to maintain balance. Then the lower colt squatted down, and the upper colt transferred to balancing on his partner's hind knees instead. It looked like an agonizing transfer, and she could see the sweat beading on their unmasked brows, but they did it with little more than a few, barely-audible grunts of exertion. Everypony in the room seemed transfixed as, slowly, excruciatingly, one hoof at a time, the muscular figures rearranged themselves such that now the upper colt was balancing with his forehooves on top of the lower colt's hind hooves, with the lower colt balancing both of their weight on his own forehooves.

‘Incredible.’

The room erupted into a brief shower of applause, but the strong-colt acrobats wordlessly continued the show. Her VIP plonked his empty martini glass down on a cocktail table and resumed course, so she followed after him.

‘Damn, I kind of wanted to see what else those two amazing colts were capable of doing.’

Maybe she’d have some more time to take in the show later. It was still early, and she didn’t doubt that a party like this was going to go late into the night.

Somewhere in between another set of fabric walls, she got a glimpse of the party's actual main stage and the live performers playing their alternative-pop set. They were masked, too, though theirs were painted in bright, almost luminescent colors. Fuchsia, pink, orange, and a greener-than-green that looked like something out of a Discordian nightmare. Still, they, and the music they were playing, fit everything going on in this hyper-modern madhouse. Even the faint smell of fish from the actual, still-in-use warehouse next door somehow fit the atmosphere. She was sure the artist in charge of everything would say it 'accentuated the ultra-realism of the event,' or some crap like that.

Whatever the philosophy behind it, whoever organized this shindig must have spent a fortune for all these magical spotlights. Basic, permanent flameless candles were relatively affordable, but high-powered lamps that changed color and 'danced' with the music didn't come cheap, even if they were just created on-the-fly by hired unicorns. From the other side of the next partition she could see she was in for even more of a light show.

Squeezing through another gap, she found herself in what was clearly one of the main 'party' rooms. There was an exhibit in the form of a pair of slender earth ponies -- one colt and one mare -- dancing in large white bird cages suspended from the ceiling. As they sensually gyrated and writhed overhead, she could see they were wearing pseudo-tackplay gear, with black masks, saddles, and chaps.

But the real attraction was the dozens, if not hundreds, of magical glow-balls hovering over the room, pulsating and shifting colors along with the beat. Some of them were even focused into spotlights, and they twirled and spun, draping the dancers -- both the professionals in the cages above, and the masked revellers below -- in riotous colors.

Her VIP pushed on, so she didn't have time to linger to enjoy this stunning dance-floor, but she did catch a glimpse of a raised booth in the corner, with at least four unicorns running the light-show in this room. She really hoped she’d get to enjoy the party once her boss was done with his business.

‘When will I ever get another chance like this?’

‘This sort of thing isn’t even his style.’

She exited the dance hall into a long, curtain-walled corridor. If this wasn't all a single big open warehouse, the music would have actually been quieter back here. As it was, instead the angle and distance from the main stage speakers just served to muddle the vocals. All she could really hear now was the throbbing of the drums and bass reverberating inside the large building.

An imposing masked server-pony waited at the end of the corridor, blocking passage further, but he stepped aside as her VIP approached.

‘So, this is some kind of private sub-party?’

Following behind her employer, she entered a large area with several very plush and comfortable looking sectional sofas, along with a separate bar and a few cocktail tables. There were only forty or so ponies in here, including the staff, so it must be some kind of exclusive ultra-VIP lounge. She didn't see any other passageways, so this must be it.

Isabelle Coquette, bodyguard to Galloway Bitsmount, Esquire, had worked -- and attended -- some extravagant parties in her time, but this one blew them all away. Then again, this was Canterlot in Royal Gala season, not Bitsmount Manor, half a day's ride from the capital. Much as Isabelle was eager to indulge herself a bit in this incredible luxury, unfortunately, her VIP was here on a very specific mission.

He barked a statement -- that sounded more like an order -- at the towering earth pony bouncer, who, even with the mask covering his face, looked like he'd taken and dished out his fair share of lumps. Hardly surprising that an affair of this caliber would have top-notch security.

"I'm here to see the Familia."

The colt discreetly directed Isabelle’s VIP to a particular table, then resumed his interposing stance at the end of the hallway.

With all the 'walls' being made of little more than heavy curtains, she wouldn't be surprised if there were a few guards watching the empty areas between rooms, too. After all, it was so busy in the rest of the event that nopony would notice somepony slipping under a curtain to sneak their way into a prohibited area like this.

She followed her VIP to the corner of the room, where a large U-shaped sectional sofa had been laid out with a low coffee table in the center. Six masked ponies were there: five unicorns and an earth pony, drinking and talking amongst themselves. They were slow to react when Isabelle and her VIP took up position at the open end of the setup, but eventually they all turned. Most of them wore looks of disdain, a sort of 'who are these interlopers?' attitude of disgust, which was a bit surprising. Bitsmount was not at the top of the Equestrian peerage ranks, being merely the present holder of Letters Patent for the silver mine bearing his family's name, but he was far from the bottom. One more step up and he'd properly be addressed as Lord Bitsmount.

But then again, did these ponies even know who their new visitor was? With the mask obscuring his face and the suit covering his mark, he was rather anonymous. In fact, nopony that Isabelle had seen had their marks on display, besides the professional performers, but she supposed that would defeat the point of a masquerade ball. If she or her VIP didn't already have clothes on covering their flanks, what would they have done? Issued capes to go with their masks?

Somehow, that seemed like an appropriate dress for meeting this powerful and secret 'Familia in Magicae' group. She still wasn’t quite over having her memory of the first encounter with the 'Familia' almost completely wiped from her mind.

That had been a disturbing use of magic. And an illegal one, though it was hardly surprising, considering that her employer had paid them for the privilege of violating various laws himself.

From nowhere, a feather-topped serving-pony scurried up behind the central figure on the sofa, bent over, and whispered something into his ear. The central unicorn colt nodded, then smiled and beckoned a forehoof towards the open seats.

"Ah, Mister Bitsmount. What a pleasure it is to see you again. Won't you and your bodyguard join us for some refreshments?"

Shooting Isabelle a glance that said 'watch for trouble,' her VIP took his seat first, and she followed after him.

‘Watch for trouble?’

She may be handy in a rumble and no slouch with her bronze sabots, but Isabelle Coquette was still just a glorified barmaid. The bouncer at the entrance alone could probably tackle her in the blink of an eye, and she’d be hard-pressed to escape from him, let alone knock him out. And exactly what was she supposed to do against unicorns that could wipe minds?

‘Well, may as well keep both eyes open.’

At least there were plenty of exits in a temporary 'room' like this. If she had to run, all she’d have to do is go straight for a wall and avoid one of the posts holding up the curtains. Those were obvious enough from the long 'feet' which kept them stable. Glancing up at the ceiling full of lights, Isabelle tried to discreetly figure out the general direction of an outside wall, just in case. She couldn't shake the feeling that something bad had happened during their last 'business meeting' with this shady group, either.

A serving pony -- another zebra mare, she noted, though without the enormous mane extensions of the one in the strong-colt performance room -- approached the table with a serving platter on her back, and hoofed over a fresh pair of cocktails. Having been trained to do just the same thing herself, Isabelle couldn't help but notice the way the zebra placed herself up close to the table then turned so her hindquarters were almost facing Bitsmount. She even made sure to bend over as low as possible when placing each drink on the table. Under his mask, Isabelle could see Galloway's eyes follow the shapely curves of the striped equine as she headed back to the bar for more drinks.

‘Even in his current state of piqued frustration, he still can't help but peek at the plot.’

The gaggle of ponies at the table silently watched the two of them, politely, but somewhat menacingly, waiting for them to wet their lips. Isabelle’s VIP seized his drink and quickly knocked back a healthy gulp before slapping it down on the black wooden table. She reached for hers more carefully, and took a delicate, feminine sip. Maybe it would be best to play up the fiction that she was just a decoration, and not actually a fighter at all.

‘Would they buy that?’

‘Or did I already blow that disguise at the last meeting?’

‘What even happened then?’

The unicorn in the center smiled, and the rest of the group seemed to relax. "Now, Mister Bitsmount, I understand you have a rather pressing complaint about our recent services."

"I damn well do! Do you know what's happened?"

The representative of the 'Familia' was about to shrug, but her VIP just barreled on right into it. "Princess Celestia has appointed Phillip Songwell as the Royal Engineer's bloody personal assistant, with the aim of 'reforming' him!"

That was supposed to be damning, and having heard Galloway rant about it in private, she knew what it meant to him, but the masked ponies just stared blankly back.

"Is that all, Mister Bitsmount?"

Isabelle’s VIP blew his top.

"Is that all? Is that all?! Don't pretend you can't read between the lines! Your blasted potion failed, and Princess Celestia saw right through us at open court!"

The others started to murmur, but they stopped when the one in the center replied. "Mister Bitsmount, you and Mister Songwell told the court that the failures at your mine were done at Songwell's initiative. Although I understand your joint musical 'apology tour' has been quite a success, it seems only natural to me that Her Majesty should wish to ensure the problem with his behaviour is completely rectified." Lifting a hoof, he grinned underneath the mask as he scratched his chin. "She does seem to have a certain fascination with reforming criminals. A mania for it, even."

Galloway inelegantly pounded a forehoof on the table, to almost no physical effect on either the audience or the drinks.

‘Must be one heavy table.’

"A mania for reforming?! A mania for reforming?! More like a mania for interrogating -- or grilling, rather! Anypony who saw that alien monkey-colt at court would know he didn't believe a word we said, the way he was staring us down. And now she's given Songwell to the one creature who didn't buy our line."

The unicorn shook his head. "Mister Bitsmount, he is the Royal Engineer, and mining safety is his prerogative. As your accuser, his skepticism in court is hardly surprising, and you must admit assigning Songwell to him is the obvious placement choice for correcting a forepony who apparently does not understand safe work procedures."

Isabelle’s VIP leaned in across the table. "Certainly! But do you think that idiot will be able to keep his trap shut? If the Royal Engineer applies pressure, as I'm sure the beast will do, then that fool will tell the truth!"

Showing signs of exasperation, the unicorn spread his upturned forehooves. "Mister Bitsmount, we can appreciate the possibility of such an event, but the service rendered was merely to enable you to dissemble at court."

Isabelle’s VIP bolted to his hooves, pointing an accusing forehoof at the unicorn. "No! No! That was your damned idea! I first told your agent I wanted to change the truth. It was your group's idea to do this by lying to the Princesses in open court." He came crashing back down onto the plush seat, jostling the rest of the bench. "Who even are you?! I want to talk to somepony in charge here! You bunch of leeches think you can just take that much of somepony's money and render half-baked service; I'll see you ruined for this!"

The group took a moment to settle down again, and then the apparent leader turned and nodded to several of them, waving them away with a forehoof.

As the current song came to an end, Isabelle heard applause and cheers erupt throughout the warehouse. Clearly, the live band just finished their set. A few moments of shuffling later, and it was just her, her VIP, and two others left: the masked 'leader' unicorn, and the masked earth pony mare beside him.

The leader beckoned them to slide over closer.

"I am Isfet."

That name rang a bell, and Isabelle narrowed her eyes.

The unicorn stared at her. "Perhaps you may remember that name, in spite of the memory erasure which was necessary to protect both our enterprise and your secret."

Her VIP's thinking was the same as hers. "I remember that name. And your voice is familiar, too. You're the one we dealt with. You gave us the potions. Was it your idea?"

Now that the music had stopped and they were in close quarters, Isabelle could better hear her host's calm, purring voice. Something reached up from the shredded remnants of her memories of the previous meeting, and it sent a shiver down her spine.

"It was. I am electing to deal with your complaint directly since it is my policy to avoid leaving unsatisfied customers. May I ask how you heard of Mister Songwell's assignment?"

Galloway scrunched up his muzzle and scoffed. "The fool told me himself last night. Even showed me the royal writ itself, though he wouldn't let me break the seal to see the orders in detail."

Isfet nodded calmly. "He demonstrates a remarkable amount of loyalty for a hireling. Are you so certain of his eventual betrayal?"

Bitsmount whinnied loudly. "Loyalty, puh! I more than filled his purse with the savings we made on timber. He may cling to his plebian roots, but it's just a facade -- his family has the largest house in the village, bar mine, and his children lead a life of luxury, if not privilege."

Taking a swig from his drink with one forehoof, Galloway waggled the other dismissively. "And now that's all coming to an end! Having taken the blame, he's a pariah in the town. The original plan was to end our apology tour there, have him donate a significant sum to charity -- generously matched by myself, of course -- and then he'd take a leave of absence before returning in another non-controversial role. Chief surveyor, perhaps. Or some kind of clerk." He inhaled sharply through his teeth as he put the empty glass back down. "That way I'd be able to keep him underhoof. But now the tour's cancelled, there's no opportunity to make a public donation, and he's been ordered to move to Canterlot! Don't you see? He'll be out of my control!"

For a miscreant misogynist whose only interests, as far as Isabelle knew, were drinking, partying, gambling, and portraying himself in public as the universe's gift to Equestria (and particularly Equestria's mares), her boss sure had some brains, when he thought to use them. Part of her wondered what he might've achieved if he wasn't such a wastrel -- like owning more than one mine.

The other part didn’t care what he added up to as long as he was still paying her well to stand around looking impressive and occasionally having a roll in the feather-downed silk hay with him.

Over from the stage, she heard the MC thank and praise the live band, and then he started to yammer something about the artwork and artists involved in tonight's show. Isabelle couldn't hear him very well; it was all a bit indistinct here on the back side.

After a long time considering things, Isfet serenely placed his forehooves together. "Is that it, Mister Bitsmount -- you want to keep Galloway in your control?"

With an irate sniffle, her VIP looked furtively around for the zebra server and another drink. "I suppose it is, yes. Have you got another blasted potion for that, then?"

The masked unicorn grinned and shook his head. "No, Mister Bitsmount. Not one which would function and escape detection for a sufficient duration -- for, after all, I assume Mister Songwell's assignment will last for some time?"

"Who knows? It could be months. If they take a liking to each other, it could even be permanent."

Suddenly melancholy at losing a valuable accomplice, her boss slumped down in his seat. He had been sipping on rye in his hotel suite's great room for hours before they received a message to come here tonight for the meeting. It seemed that those spirits, plus his last three fruity and quite potent drinks, were finally catching up with him.

"For an old fool who got his start with my father, Phillip's remarkably competent. He was quite judicious in his 'economizing,' such that the workers barely noticed the difference, and never objected. Anypony else might've gotten us caught after the first cave-in, or caused many more of them."

Isfet turned to his female companion and whispered to her.

‘Is she a VIP bodyguard like me? Or something else?’

‘It’s Impossible to tell with all these masks.’

Isfet's gloriously bright red hooded robe hid most of his body, and all of his mane, too -- all she could tell was that his horn and chin were white. Not exactly defining characteristics, and 'Isfet' surely wasn't his real name, either. If Isabelle went and told the ponice that the leader of a major magical criminal organization in Canterlot was a white unicorn colt, they'd just shrug their shoulders and send her on her way. Probably laughing in her face as they did it.

Returning to face her VIP, Isfet spread his forehooves shoes-down on the table. "Mister Bitsmount, when you came to us, you described you and your forepony Mister Songwell as an inseparable team. I believe in the context of that information we satisfied your needs with the potions provided."

Just as her boss started to get hot at the collar, Isfet flipped over his forehooves. "That said, because of your prior business with us and the urgency of your request, we are willing to provide a solution to this newest problem at a discount from our normal rates."

Galloway licked his lips, chuckling. "You're going to bill me. Heh. Heh. To fix your own mess! Of course you are, all you ponies care about is money."

That last statement seemed to wound their host. "Mister Bitsmount-"

Just as the drinks-zebra came around again, her VIP got to his hind hooves. "No, no more 'Mister Bitsmount'! Especially not while you're holding out your hoof, expecting another payment. Don't you understand that this isn't just my problem any more?! If that fool talks, then he threatens you as well as me!"

Avoiding the explosion in progress, the server-mare deposited a fresh cocktail and whisked away the empty glass, then trotted away unceremoniously, her shapely plot sadly unappreciated this time.

In the background, Isabelle heard the MC announce the next musical performer, a DJ Somepony-Or-Other -- she didn't quite catch the name -- and the MC launched into a lengthy speech describing their career to this point. This really was more of an art show for the glitterati than a high-roller dance party.

Isfet tilted his head sideways slightly. "Threatens us? He doesn't know anything about us. What could he possibly threaten us with?"

Still standing on his hind legs, Galloway leaned in menacingly, one forehoof on the table and the other gesturing as he spoke. "He knows that there's an underground criminal organization capable of producing potions enabling somepony to lie to Princess Celestia."

Letting that sink in, her VIP finally sat down again. "You take great pains to make sure your customers can't reveal anything about your little operation accidentally, and your customers wouldn't dare divulge that they used your services, but what if you had one who willingly gave you up? Even without any details, the knowledge of your existence could unsettle things and lead to much more scrutiny. It would, at the very least, make your business dealings more difficult -- and believe me, they're difficult enough as they are. If I didn't know ponies who knew ponies, I would never have been able to contact you in time for my court appearance."

Isfet regained his composure. "That difficulty is by design, Mister Bitsmount. We offer exceptionally rare services to ponies of exceptional means."

"And for exceptional prices."

The unicorn couldn’t help but laugh at the second jab about money. "Heh. Despite your accusation, the Familia in Magicae is not all about money. We must cover our expenses and fund our enterprise, but the accumulation of wealth is not our priority."

With a dismissive snort, Galloway reached for his fresh drink and banged it back.

‘Slow down, boss -- or you'll be on the floor before this meeting is over.’

"What is your priority, then? Revitalizing the capital's waterfront by renting out abandoned warehouses to throw avant-garde art parties?"

Isfet smiled. "We helped with funding this little event, yes, though we didn't organize it. But what the Familia in Magicae pursues above all other concerns is absolute excellence in magic."

Galloway snorted boorishly, finally putting the pieces together. "You're a bunch of damned unicorn supremacists."

Isfet didn’t even flinch at the accusation. "Not by nature. All Equestrian creatures are magical, and we appreciate the physics-defying flight and weather control of the pegasi as much as we appreciate the unearthly strength and endurance of the earth ponies. Perhaps you noticed some of the exhibits in the halls on your way in? The curator of this event has obtained some superb specimens possessed of incredible skill, and we have helped to ensure they are well-compensated for their demonstrations here tonight."

Tipping his head down, he grinned. "But, of course, when it comes to the raw harnessing of magic, this is unquestionably the realm of the unicorns, a domain in which no other species can compete. And we provide funds to ensure this domain is explored completely."

Isabelle’s boss nodded sloppily. "Right. So what are you going to do about our problem if Phillip Songwell blabs all about his lie and your little club?"

The unicorn colt turned his head and glanced briefly at his hornless female companion. "Mister Bitsmount, I believe it would be entirely appropriate for you, Mister Songwell's compassionate former employer, to hire for him, entirely at your own expense, an assistant of his own, to help him adjust to life in Canterlot, to organize his family's transition here, and to support him in his valuable and noble work for Their Majesties' Royal Engineer."

He grinned and indicated his partner. "I have just the mare for him. An earth pony, who will therefore attract no attention; she has many useful abilities and skills, including discrete, coercive persuasion. And both because of your previous business and your well-reasoned argument about the security of our operation, I am willing to let you employ her at a substantial discount."

Over in the center of the warehouse, the MC finished his speech and Isabelle heard applause as the DJ apparently took the stage. While her boss considered Isfet's offer, the music started up again, pounding a hypnotic beat that made her long for the dance floor. She was sure it would be drilling into her VIP's brain tomorrow morning with the hangover he was likely to have, too.

Suggested interlude music: New Order - 'Confusion (Pump Panel Reconstruction Mix)' [1995], as featured in 'Blade' [1998]
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d_Hw_UC314M