The Noble Stable,

Canterlot Castle,

Central Equestria

Alabaster Fetlock, Fourth Earl of Bitter Creek, was reading over his notes for the umpteenth time that day as ponies continued to file into the Noble Stable and take their seats. There were far more genuine nobles present here tonight than there were during a typical session. Usually, the realm’s Peers simply sent proxies to cast their votes in accordance with however the leader of their affiliated bloc directed. This evening’s session, however, was far from ‘usual’. For the first time in centuries, the nobles of Equestria would be making a deadly serious decision:

Whether or not to take Equestria to war.

The earl’s gaze drifted from his note cards towards the twin thrones that sat at one end of the room, opposite the massive chamber doors the nobles were entering through. The Solar and Lunar Thrones were empty at the moment, and would remain so for a while longer. The princesses would be the last to arrive. Well, that wasn’t strictly accurate, the earl supposed. In all likelihood, the sisters were indeed present right now. It was simply that they wouldn’t be summoned to ‘oversee the proceedings’ until the rest of the members of the Noble Stable were seated and the session started.

The ivory unicorn’s gaze next drifted down to a simplistic wooden podium that sat at the base of the dias the thrones were on. Like them, it was also unoccupied at the moment. The Speaker for the Stable would be the second to last to present themselves to the chamber. It was almost a certainty that the speaker was also already here and was simply waiting. Most likely she was conversing with the princesses.

“Earl Bitter Creek.”

He turned his head at the invocation of his title, his eyes coming to rest upon the wrinkled old face of his majordomo. The elder stallion glanced at their surroundings, judging how closely those nearby were paying attention to them, before leaning in close to the unicorn’s ear and whispering. “I have just received word from the general that Corsair and Shillelagh have been apprehended and taken into custody by the Royal Guard.”

Alabaster’s first impulse was to grimace. While it was a relief to hear that the two had been captured, he didn’t much care for the fact that they’d been captured by the city’s guards—which suggested that they’d made it into the city proper somehow—and he especially didn’t like that those two were in the custody of the guards. He hoped that was a situation which could be remedied in short order.

There was also the matter of the other three ponies; but the earl supposed that they were an issue which might yet soon be resolved as well.

“Does he know how and when our mutual friend intends to deal with them?” He asked the older gray unicorn in a matching hushed tone.

Matre shook his head. “No, My Lord. Nor does the general know where our 'mutual friend' presently is. The general hasn’t seen or heard from him in some time.”

Alabaster reasoned that the batpony was likely trying to hunt down the last of the loose ends before tying them off. Regardless, the earl resolved to treat the matter as ‘handled’, for all intents and purposes. The survivors of Bronco Company certainly weren’t going to be able to do anything which would stop these proceedings; and the outcome reached here would likely put his plans past the ‘point of no return’.

“Thank you, Maitre. If you hear anything further, please let me know.”

“Yes, My Lord.” The older unicorn withdrew.

As the last of the realm’s peers finally took their seats. The low murmur which hovered over the chamber as ponies conversed with political allies crescendoed to dull roar as ponies had to raise their volume of speech more and more in order to be heard over the words of others. Only for the room to quiet almost instantly the moment the purposefully squeaky hinges of a small side door announced that it had opened. Every eye in the room turned to watch as an older lilac unicorn stallion dressed in a fine deep indigo vest with golden accents step through the door and slowly make their way to the podium at the base of the thrones.

Those ponies who were not already seated hurried the rest of the way to their assigned benches, arranged by seniority of title, and took their seats. All conversation had ceased and the chamber was silent save for the occasional clearing of a throat or muffled cough by the time The Speaker was at the podium. All the same, the old stallion slipped a hoof into an old bronze horseshoe that sat atop the wooden surface and delivered two sharp stomps to a piece of worn granite that sat at his hooves upon the polished marble floor. Each of those objects harkened back to the earliest days of Equestria, and had remained a constant, even as the city and castle around them had changed. There was even speculation that the stone was from the original Castle of the Two Sisters, though neither alicorn had confirmed it yet.

“The Noble Stable is brought to order!” The Speaker recited the words needlessly. There was a script that needed to be followed during such important official proceedings though. The lilac stallion turned his head about the room, examining first one side and then the other, confirming that he had the attention of all of the ponies in the room. Then, “All bow for the arrival of Their Royal Majesties!”

The Speaker took a step back from his podium, turned on age-stiffened limbs, and bowed down before the dias holding the twin thrones. The rest of the nobles likewise bowed in their benches. A few seconds later, Princesses Celestia and Luna emerged from behind their respective thrones and took their seats.

“Rise,” the elder sister commanded.

Only the old stallion before her did so, looking up at the diarchs. “Your Majesties, Your Noble Stable sits ready to assist in leading Your realm. Under Your guidance and with Your wisdom, may it begin its deliberations?”

“Beneath Our guidance and wisdom, you may proceed, Speaker,” the younger sister allowed.

The old unicorn inclined his head in acknowledgement and turned back to the podium. Once more he delivered two blows to the granite slab with his bronze horseshoe. “All rise! As I am sure many of our Ladies and Lords are aware,” he began, casting another wandering eye at all of the nobles who were present in lieu of their usual proxies, “the first issue on the docket today is a grave one.” His attention focused now on Alabaster. “Earl Bitter Creek, Their Majesties’ Minister of Foreign Affairs, has some rather grave tidings for us. Your Lordship, if you would care to address the Stable?”

The lilac unicorn motioned for him to descend to the chamber floor. The earl nodded and collected his notes in his magic before making his way down from his bench. He nodded towards The Speaker and then cleared his throat and began to address the assembled nobility.

“My Ladies, My Lords, I fear that I bring ill tidings before the Stable.

“Approximately one week ago, the Saddle Arabian town of Gallopoli was razed to the ground, its citizens slaughtered nearly to a mare.” While most of the Stable’s membership was already aware of this, as a memorandum of the evening’s docket had been distributed a few days ago—hence the record attendance tonight—there were still quite a few gasps heard among the peerage. “The Saddle Arabian Sultan has leveled allegations that this heinous crime was perpetrated by members of the Frontier Corps of Their Majesties’ own Royal Cavalry.” There was another, much louder and more contentious, round of gasps and other murmuring. The Speaker slammed his bronze horseshoe and silence was restored.

“While it pains me to admit it,” the earl continued, “the investigations by the Equestrian Intelligence Service has discovered evidence consistent with the sultan's allegations." More gasps, louder discourse from among the nobles of the gallery, and further slams of the bronze horseshoe to reestablish silence.

Alabaster hid a smile as he watched the faces of the gathered nobility. Thus far, they were reacting just as he'd predicted to his delivery. Which boded well for how he intended to sculp their decisions with his coming words. "At the ever-just command of Their Majesties," he nodded in the direction of the seated alicorns, "the EIS has opened a formal investigation into the matter. The commanding officer of the Frontier Corps, Brigadier General Maniple, has ordered the commander of the errant company arrested on sight. Indeed, the general has assured both my ministry and Their Majesties that every element of his Frontier Corps in Western Equestria, a full two thirds of the ponies under his command, are participating in the search."

Or, at least, they were until they had caught Corsair and the others, the earl ruefully didn't say aloud. That news hadn't been passed around outside of the inner circle, for obvious reasons.

"We have assured the sultan that Equestria is taking every reasonable action to apprehend these criminals," Alabaster continued.

"Unfortunately," his tone became forlorn now, as he prepared to deliver the unwelcome news which brought the Stable together this evening, "the horses do not appear to be satisfied with our efforts. Despite the pleas of Their Majesties to do otherwise, Sultan Rahid-In Saheid Sad-Hal has insisted that Saddle Arabia be the one to prosecute the search. Unilaterally."

The gasps and murmurs sounded angrier than shocked this time around. The ponies in the Stable immediately recognized an overstepping of Equestrian sovereignty. Instinctively, they would not stand for it—they could not stand for it. In the eyes of the international community it would subordinate Equestria—Their Royal Majesties—to a foreign power.

To suggest that the Royal Sisters—the very ponies who moved the sun and moon in the sky—bow and scrape before anycreature...it was tantamount to blasphemy.

The Noble Stable would not stand for it, and Earl Bitter Creek knew it. He hid another smile from his lips and kept a properly resigned expression in place on his face as he prepared the next bit of news which he knew would seal the upcoming vote exactly the way he wanted it.

"To that end” the Minister of Foreign Affairs continued with a heavy sigh, “my office received word that, just three days ago, the sultan sent ten thousand Saddle Arabian soldier across the border into Equestria.”

This was not information which had previously been released, even to ranking members of the Stable. Aside from the princesses Themselves, it was coming at everypony cold. The shocked and outraged utterances—the outright yells—from the assembled nobles had been fully anticipated by the earl. Indeed, he’d been counting on exactly this reaction. News that would catch them off guard. That would throw whatever pre-assembly voting arrangements they’d made with their little political cliques into total disarray by introducing information which fundamentally altered the circumstances behind the agreements made by the numerous factions and blocs.

There was bona fide military threat to their nation now. Mutual hoof-polishing would have to wait.

The Sisters had known about the incursion, of course. Director Em-Dash had informed them. The princesses had then issued orders to their military. Orders to make preparations and to assemble in a greater number to best prepare to meet the Saddle Arabians.

Orders which never ended up reaching their final intended destination, as Nocturne had delivered the earl’s desired course of action—along with an altered intelligence briefing—to Brigadier General Reconnoiter first by bypassing the chain of command.

The Speaker’s hoof had to come down on the stone several times to restore order, but he eventually received it and so Alabaster resumed his address. “Ladies, Lords…” he turned now to the alicorn siblings and gave them an imploring look, “...Your Majesties, Equestria cannot allow such a flagrant violation of our sovereignty to go unanswered!

“Foreign hooves march across Equestrian soil—under arms! To do nothing—to let the Saddle Arabians send their armies to maraud through our homes…” The earl gave his head a pitying, helpless shake. “...Noble ponies of this Stable, we must respond to this threat!”

Alabaster could see the uncertain expressions among many of the faces of the Stable. They were faces which had looked patently affronted by the news that the horses had soldiers inside Equestria’s borders, so they certainly were not happy with the situation; but they also weren’t quite willing to escalate matters if it could be avoided. The earl knew that wouldn’t hold for long. Not if the timetable he’d received from Nocturne and Maniple was anywhere close to accurate.

General Reconnoiter’s forces should have already encountered the Saddle Arabian army. Given the numerical disparity at play, he’d been assured by Maniple that defeat of the Equestrian army was a certainty. With the distances at play, Canterlot should be receiving word about those losses any moment now…

“I am not proposing that we should send our own soldiers to siege Istanbull,” Earl Bitter Creek hastily amended. “But we must—at the very least—repel the invasion happening right now! Before there is a costly confrontation.

"Equestria's present standing armies in the west are gathering," he informed the noble ponies, for that was what the princesses believed as well. "What I propose is that we mobilize the garrisons in the east as well—just in case they are needed," he added by way of caveat. It wouldn't do to come off as a warmonger, now would it? "Equestria must be ready to defend itself, especially when being confronted by a demonstrably unreasonable neighbor," he stressed.

Then Alabaster took the chance to press things just a bit further. "As much as it pains me so," the earl said with a reluctant sigh, doing his best to sound as though even he was loath to suggest this next part, “I propose: that we...take steps...to prepare for war. As a precaution against further rash acts by the sultan and his horses.”

The expressions he saw on the faces of the other nobles now were contemplative, at worst—from the perspective of his desired outcome. Even better, a not-insignificant number of the ponies he knew to be the leaders of the various voting factions were looking quite receptive to his proposal. A hasty mental tally suggested that his plan would easily pass the Noble Stable. After that, it would be even easier to get it through the House of Common Ponies. Especially when—by that time—Canterlot would have received word that Reconnoiter's army was soundly crushed by the Saddle Arabian's army in an 'unprovoked' attack.

With the news of such a tragedy, and a proposal that had the backing of both of the government's legislative chambers, the princesses wouldn't be able to stave off the calls for a full military mobilization of Equestria's armies.

Alabaster was going to get his war.

The Speaker silenced the murmurs once more and returned the chamber to order. “A motion is before the Stable. Is there a second who will support Earl Bitter Creek?” Alabaster hid his smile as several prominent ponies all but raced to see who could stand up and voice their support first. “A motion has been made and seconded. The proposal may be voted on by this assembly.

“Are there any among the Stable who would wish to speak in opposition before votes are cast?”

Alabaster took a moment to glance towards his various political rivals in the Stable. If any were going to try to thwart his plans, it would be them. Not because they actually opposed what he was advocating for of course. Not on principle, anyway. But merely because it was in their best political interests for him not to be able to claim credit for getting measures successfully through the Noble Stable. Even if that meant suggesting Equestria should do nothing while a foreign army marched unopposed through their nation.

It was asinine, but that was politics.

However, it looked like those usual opponents were going to opt to utilize discretion in this particular instance. None of them raised their hooves. When it became clear that there wasn’t going to be any open opposition to the earl's proposal, The Speaker nodded. “Then this assembly shall move on to a vote. All of those who support Earl Bitter Creek’s motion to mobilize Equestria for war, raise your—”

The older stallion’s words were interrupted as the side door opened once more on its noisy hinges. A guard trotted in and gingerly made their way to The Speaker who, while appearing visibly annoyed at the interruption, leaned in and listened to what the guard had come to tell him. Alabaster turned an ear to listen but wasn’t able to make out the contents of the exchange. He was only able to see that, whatever was being said, it evoked a raised brow from the older unicorn.

The Speaker’s eyes darted briefly to the side of the chamber, presumably to look at one of the seated nobles. The earl couldn’t identify which pony specifically he’d been looking for, but he did note that it was a section of benches which were reserved for some of the higher ranking members of the Noble Stable. He masked his own annoyed frown now.

When the guard was finally done, The Speaker whispered something back, to which the armored pony nodded, bowed, and then left back out the way that he’d come. The old lilac unicorn cleared his throat and once more addressed the chamber. “My apologies, Ladies and Lords. It seems we will have an additional piece of business before the Stable.”

The earl wasn’t quite able to conceal his annoyance. He was so close! All he needed was for this vote to pass, and a war with Saddle Arabia would be a foregone conclusion. Equestria's future would be secured! “My Lord Speaker,” he began, aware how strained his words sounded as he spoke and quickly cleared his throat so as to speak with the decorum expected of a benched peer of the Stable, “surely this new matter can wait until after the vote has been taken?”

The Speaker offered the minister an apologetic smile. “I’m afraid that, under the wording of the Noble Stable’s Charter, this new matter actually takes precedence over a vote—even one of as great import as this.

"It shouldn’t take long though, Earl Bitter Creek. My understanding is that it’s just a brief bit of procedural formality and then we can swiftly get back to the matter at hoof.”

Alabaster nodded in acknowledgement even as his mind worked to puzzle out what this new ‘procedural formality’ before the Stable could be that would take precedence ahead of an active vote. There were a few matters, of course, that took priority over all else before the Stable when they came up. It was hard to think of which of them could be the case now though…

The main doors of the Noble Stable opened up and the chamber’s Mare-at-Arms stepped through ahead of a pair of earth pony stallions that Bitter Creek didn’t recognize. The uniformed mare who escorted them bowed to The Speaker and the princesses, who also looked quite curious to see what had postponed this important vote.

“Good ponies of the Stable, Your Majesties, presenting Baron Muslin Cravat of House Medicas!” The Mare-at-Arms now stepped aside and gestured to the lead stallion who had followed her in. The dappled gray earth pony advanced before bowing low before the podium.

“Baron Cravat,” The Speaker began in an even, if curious, tone. “Your timing is less than ideal; but I understand that you wish to submit a petition before this chamber?”

Earl Bitter Creek snorted now, and none too quietly either. A petitioner? That was what the vote had been delayed for? Petitions didn’t take precedence before votes in the Stable! In fact, this particular session of the Noble Stable wasn't even going to be open to petitions from the Peerage. Which The Speaker well knew. What was going on?

“Lord Speaker,” the dappled pony began as he rose back to his hooves. His eyes darted to the alicorns seated behind the older stallion, “Your Majesties. I bring news of the utmost importance from Saddle Arabia—”

Earl Bitter Creek’s eyes widened. While he was waiting for news of the battle with the horses, this noble was most certainly not a courier. He'd also specifically said 'from Saddle Arabia', not western Equestria. He wasn't here to report on Reconnoiter's battle. Which meant that, whatever this stallion had to say, it could be allowed to be heard by the Stable until Alabaster could make sure it wasn't counter to anything he or his ministry had previously reported.

He quickly advanced, cutting off the earth pony. “Lord Speaker; point of order! Mere addresses to the Stable do not preempt motions and votes! Especially if they are not immediately relevant to the proceedings at hoof.

“Baron Cravat isn’t even a ‘led and shod’ member of the Noble Stable,” Alabaster protested. Admittedly, this was mostly a guess on the earl's part. It was hardly as though he'd memorized the name and face of every member of the stable. It was an educated guess though. If this pony were a currently benched member, then he’d have been seated in the chamber already. “He has no standing to speak before this assembly!”

The Speaker let out a—not quite—exasperated sigh. “Lord Bitter Creek—”

At the mention of the ivory unicorn’s title, the dappled newcomer’s head whipped around to look at him. The glare that was leveled at alabaster was withering. The earl couldn’t recall the last time any pony had ever looked at him with such visceral hatred. Before he could think more on the cause, and before even The Speaker could continue, the baron extended a hoof towards the young stallion who'd followed him in. The other pony fumbled for a few moments to dig two sealed rolls of parchment out of a satchel and pass them to the dappled baron.

“Lord Speaker; my Patent of Nobility and Petition for Admittance into the Noble Stable.” The baron’s eyes darted to the same section of the Stable that the older unicorn had glanced towards earlier. “I believe you will find my sponsor to be of sufficient standing to sustain the petition.”

Alabaster blinked. A petition to gain entry into the Noble Stable was indeed one of those few items which took precedence over most other activities in the Stable. Mostly due to what the earl considered to be a poor choice of wording when the charter for the Stable was written. The charter made allowances for a prospective member to submit a Petition for Admittance ‘at any time’. There had been incidents, long in the past, where individuals had picked especially inconvenient moments to submit their own petitions and sought to use the letter of the charter to get themselves seated with haste.

Historically, this was in an effort to thwart upcoming votes with narrow margins that the minority party was incredibly motivated not to lose. To that end, the minority faction would attempt to 'stock the stable' by having its members sponsor any and every noble in their family they could find with the understanding that those new members would vote in very specific ways once they'd been 'led and shod'. Thanks to powerful family members and patrons in a few of those early examples who had forced the issue, the precedent for Petitions of Admittance to be addressed ahead of any and all other business before the Stable, even—and especially—votes, had been firmly set; and so it was indeed a point of procedure that nearly any kind of proceeding needed to be halted so that a new member could be allowed into the Noble Stable so that they could cast their vote.

The Speaker collected the scrolls in his telekinetic aura, broke the seals, and read over the contents. Really, the lilac unicorn only gave them a cursory glance before nodding and setting the pieces of parchment down on the podium. He turned his attention once again to that same section of the Stable’s benches. “Duchess Golden Hour, do you stand as sponsor to the petitioner?”

Now the earl’s eyes widened as he looked first at the dappled stallion standing nearby, before then turning his head to regard the lemon chiffon mare who was getting to her hooves. Obviously he recognized the Minister of Public Health and was well aware of her seniority within the Stable. What he was not immediately aware of was why she would be sponsoring some random baron—

‘...House Medicas...’

“I do, Lord Speaker,” the older yellow mare said. Her gaze shifted to the young stallion, her lips quirked in a sad smile. “I consider it long overdue that my wayward scion join this assembly.” This earned her a slight frown from the dappled pony.

“Very well,” The Speaker nodded. “The petition has been received, the patent sustained, and the petitioner sponsored.” He now turned to face the alicorn sisters. “Your Majesties, will You permit this Peer of Your Realm to join the Noble Stable?”

The siblings spared a moment to exchange looks and then turned nod at the lilac unicorn. “We do,” Celestia said. The sisters didn't appear to be wholly surprised by the sudden shift in proceedings. Though, considering that the two of them had likely been present when the precedent had first been established, that wasn't really all that surprising upon reflection.

“Very well,” The Speaker bowed and turned back to face the dappled pony. “Baron Cravat, you may take your bench. You are just in time to vote on a rather grave matter before the Stable—”

“Actually, Lord Speaker,” the freshly minted member of the Noble Stable interrupted with an apologeticly raised hoof, “if I may be permitted to speak on the matter before the Stable? I understand it concerns recent events in Saddle Arabia?”

Once more Earl Bitter Creek raised an objection. “Point of order, Lord Speaker: the allotted time for discussion has passed! We are already at the voting stage of these proceedings—”

“We would like to hear what Baron Cravat has to say, Lord Speaker,” Princess Luna declared from her throne.

Alabaster nearly bit his own tongue off in his effort to arrest his grievance, his wide eyes looking up to the raised daises. He swallowed, very carefully considering whether or not he wanted to press the issue of procedure over the wishes of the princesses. Technically, even the Sisters couldn’t impose their will in direct opposition to the charter of the Noble Stable, as it bore their signatures of agreement to abide by its articles as well.

In practice, however, the earl didn’t envy the prospect of having to explain to Princesses Celestia and Luna why he didn’t want to hear what the dappled pony had to say on a matter that he'd just finished explaining was of the highest importance. The political cost for opposing the princesses would be…considerable.

The Speaker appeared to be of the same mind as he nodded. “Is there an objection to Their Majesties’ request for a departure from chartered protocol?” His gaze was focused squarely on Earl Bitter Creek as he spoke. Indeed, the ivory unicorn could feel the full weight of the eyes of every member of the Stable upon him.

He swallowed. “...No, Lord Speaker.” He bowed his head in the direction of the two alicorns. “As Their Majesties desire, of course.”

“Very well,” the older unicorn returned his attention to the young stallion. “Baron Cravat?”

The dappled pony took a deep breath before beginning a speech which he knew was going to garner quite the reaction from the assembled nobles. “Ladies and Lords of the Stable, Lord Speaker, Your Majesties…My name is: Baron Muslin Cravat of House Medicas, formerly Corporal Muslin Cravat of Their Majesties’ Royal Cavalry. Specifically: Bronco Company, Second Light Hoof, Seventh Regiment, Frontier Corps.

“I was at Gallopoli.”

The reaction of the ponies in the chamber was…spirited. To say the least. Alabaster’s was far more panicked; in thought if not expression. He was caught between feelings of dread at the prospect of having the Noble Stable—the princesses—hear about the Saddle Arabian village being attacked by mercenaries, and rage that—somehow—both Maniple and Nocturne had managed to fuck up in such spectacular fashion as to allow one of the Bronco Company survivors make it—not just into the city—but into the fucking castle! In front of the princesses!

The earl didn’t know how to stop this—he didn’t even know how it had happened! One of the survivors was a noble?! Brigadier General Maniple hadn’t mentioned anything about that! Alabaster had asked him to send a group full of expendable ponies. In what world was the son of a duchess ‘expendable’?!

How was he going to salvage this? More pressing: who was he going to blame for it? The earl’s first thought with regards to candidates was the general, for creating this present mess in the first place. If Maniple alone would not satisfy, then that thrice-banished Nocturne could join him on the proverbial sacrificial altar for his repeated failures to tie up Hawkwood's loose ends…

The Speaker slammed his bronze horseshoe on the stone at his hooves over and over again until he finally managed to get the chamber to—mostly—quiet down. He seemed to settle for a mere low rumble from the nobles. The dappled stallion was prompted to continue.

“Bronco Company had nothing to do with the attack,” Baron Cravat continued. “We were attacked too. I can’t say who the enemy was exactly—we weren’t in a position to ask who they owed allegiance to and they never offered. All I know is that, while they wore Cavalry barding and used Cavalry weapons, they were not Equestrian Cavalry soldiers. There were griffons and hippogriffs among their number.”

More murmurs now, and even louder in volume. Earl Bitter Creek launched back in to rebut the earth pony. “Of course one of the accused would proclaim their innocence and seek to blame others in their stead! But how can we be expected to take your word for it? You’re hardly an unbiased witness! In fact, as one of those that the sultan of Saddle Arabia himself," he made a point of stressing the title of the accuser to lend the allegations further weight and credibility in the eyes of the Stable, "has claimed perpetrated the slaughter, you shouldn't even be trotting around free!”

He turned to the lilac unicorn now. "Lord Speaker, you must summon the Mare-at-Arms and the guards! Noble or no, this stallion is wanted on charges of mass murder!" Alabaster jabbed a hoof at the baron. "He needs to be arrested and escorted from here. Immediately!"

The Speaker, though clearly not appreciating the earl's tone, at least looked like he was strongly considering acting upon the minister's recommendation. However, before the old unicorn could summon the guards, the baron stepped aside and gestured back towards the other stallion who’d entered with him. “I have brought another witness with me. Ladies and Lords, Lord Speaker, Your Majesties, I present: Mesmet, son of Arman, the late chief of Gallopoli.

“He was present during the attack as well.”

The Speaker didn't summon the guards. He, and the rest of the Stable, along with Their Majesties, all turned to stare at the baron's companion. It was easy to not pay close attention to a noble's attendant. They tended to fade into the background in the face of the 'important' pony who was the focus of any given conversation. And so it was that, at a glance, everypony in the stable had assumed that the 'stallion' with Baron Cravat had just been some member of his household staff.

While horses and ponies were both equines, it would be hard to genuinely confuse the two—even accounting for the size disparity. An adolescent horse was approximately the same height as a full grown pony stallion, but that was about all the two would have in common. Hoses had longer muzzles, narrower heads, longer legs, sleeker bodies, and a whole host of other different characteristics that was obvious when you were looking at them—really looking at them.

Nopony had been looking before.

Everypony was looking now.

The baron had indeed arrived at the Stable with a Saddle Arabian colt in tow.

It also did not appear that this was the last arrow the dappled stallion held in his quiver. He turned once more towards the princesses. "Your Majesties, while she is not with me presently, there is another witness—an EIS operative—who was tracking the mercenaries who actually attacked Gallopoli."

Princess Luna arched an intrigued brow. "And where is this EIS operative now?"

"If all went well tonight, then she should be in the company of Director Em-Dash, Your Majesty."

Damn it all to Tartarus!

A Bronco Company survivor. A noble, to boot—somehow! A Saddle Arabian who had allegedly been present to witness the attack. And now a member of the EIS who was aware of Hawkwood's activities?!

There was little doubt in Alabaster's mind that this witness was the same pony whom Nocturne had assured the earl had been 'dealt with' before Gallopoli was attacked. It appeared that nocreature was capable of killing the ponies who really mattered, be they hippogriff or pony.

Nocturne gets thrown to the timberwolves first, the earl decided. Then Maniple, if Their Majesties need more culpable ponies to pass over to Saddle Arabia in order to satisfy their sultan.

Alabaster could try and offer protest to what the dappled stallion was saying. He could suggest that it was all just an elaborate lie. That the colt was just some urchin he'd found in Saddle Arabia. That the alleged 'EIS Operative' was being paid to say whatever he wanted them to out of the coffers of his estate. There were a dozen ways that Alabaster could think of to muddy the waters. But...

The earl knew it would ultimately be fruitless. The truth was that, in the end, it would be easy enough to validate everything that Baron Cravat was claiming. Alabaster had done all he could to keep the Saddle Arabian ambassador and the princesses away from each other for the last week. When it was just a matter of passing correspondence, that was easily enough done since he was the pony who was supposed to be meeting with ambassadors on behalf of Their Majesties.

But if Celestia and Luna were to insist on meeting face-to-face with the representative of the Saddle Arabian government over the matter of repatriating an orphaned colt...

Earl Bitter Creek could see plainly that the princesses were quite eager to hear what the young horse standing in the Stable had to say, even more so than they’d looked to hear from the baron. Even if Alabaster did all he could to cast doubts now, the Saddle Arabians would eventually be able to verify the colt's identity. Once that happened, the princesses would believe the colt's account no matter what he said. Add in what that operative would be able to testify to—and maybe even offer evidence of—and Equestria and Saddle Arabia both would know that the ponies had nothing to do with the attack on Gallopoli after all.

There was no salvaging his plan, Alabaster realized with a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. No matter how much he might try to protest, even the unverified testimony that the baron and the colt provided tonight would be more than sufficient to sway the Stable towards defeating the measure he'd proposed. There’d be other proposals, Alabaster was sure—more ‘measured’ responses to what the Saddle Arabians were doing until the truth of the matter could be revealed. Maybe even a personal visit to the sultan by one or both of the princesses to get to the matter resolved as quickly as possible—entirely bypassing established diplomatic channels in favor of expediency.

Questions would be raised. An investigation would be launched. Records would be combed through—both within his ministry and without. He had most of the doctored records that he needed in place, but not all. The earl hadn't anticipated the truth behind Gallopoli's destruction coming to light this soon. The discrepancies would raise even further questrions and prompt EIS to dig even deeper into the activities of his ministry—into him.

The earl’s heart sank as he realized that…it was over. His plans had failed. And soon—

There was a commotion at the large doors leading to the Stable. Many eyes turned to see what fresh disruption would appear this time. A pegasus wearing obviously battered and bloodied barding, along with the yellow sash of a courier, flew into the chamber over the protests of the Mare-at-Arms.

“I bring…an urgent message…for Their Majesties!” the gasping young stallion cried out before all but falling into a bow at the base of their thrones. “There’s been a battle!” He announced, even as tired wings fumbled with his saddlebags in an effort to produce the scroll he carried. “The Saddle Arabians! Their army!

“They attacked!”

The Noble Stable was shocked into silence.

The princesses gasped.

Alabaster Fetlock smiled.

It seemed that all might not be lost after all…

Author's Note

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