“I don’t suppose you were listening to my father’s opponent?” Velar asked, his voice every bit as sarcastic as his mother’s had been. “Lord Gabriel represented everything hostile to your nation. He would have seen Accipio prepare boats full of soldiers instead of refugees. He would probably have seen us invade the volcano too, once the eruption is over!”
“What is your name?” Gaius asked, before the pony could respond to Velar’s question.
“Starlight Glimmer,” she snapped at him. Apparently this pony was not particularly frightened by authority—just what kind of little horse could look at someone as mighty as him and not feel a little fear for herself? If this was typical of their kind, perhaps he had been even wiser in avoiding an invasion than he had previously thought.
“And yes, I understand. I heard everything he said, and it was exactly what some in Equestria expected from you. Most of the nobility are convinced that the instant you get inside the borders, you’ll start pillaging like a bunch of bloodthirsty savages. I agreed with Celestia in arguing against that point of view, but now I think maybe I was the one who was wrong. I don’t know what else I’m supposed to see in that.” She flicked her tail towards the still-open doorway into the arena.
“Our ways are not your ways, Starlight Glimmer,” the emperor said. “When I agreed to the treaty with Equestria, you’ll find nowhere in that document did we agree to change the way we run our empire. Accipio is not set to become an Equestria puppet, or Equestrian slaves.”
“I understand that.” The glow fizzled out from around her horn. “But why did you have to kill him? That other bird, Lord whoever, you beat him! You made a fool of him in front of everyone. That landing… looked like the complications might’ve killed him anyway. What kind of barbarians had to kill an enemy you’d already beaten?”
Gaius felt the anger rising in his chest, but he swallowed it. Exactly as he had fought it back on the arena grounds. “You may not approve of our ways, Starlight Glimmer, but if you weren’t ignorant about their reasons, you might judge them a little less. There is no bird in all Accipio with as little honor as Gabriel. He was the one who set the terms of that duel, he insisted the fight would be to the death. Do you know why?” He shoved one of the armorers aside, advancing on the pony. He towered over her, nearly a foot taller than she was. This time, he did catch a brief flinch from her, radiating the scent of fear.
That is as it should be. “If Gabriel had won an ordinary duel, he would’ve forced me to act the way he wanted, and invade Equestria. He would’ve forced me to break the terms of the treaty. Thousands of birds would have died, and who knows how many ponies. But that wasn’t enough for Gabriel—he wanted to be emperor as well. Only by killing the emperor can one of the current clan lords claim the title for himself. What kind of ruler do you think he would’ve made of a subjugated and enslaved Equestria?”
“That isn’t a war you can win,” the pony said, from less than a foot away. The more she spoke, the more Gaius grew impressed with this pony—she was bold enough to speak to him as not even his own family often dared. She was as courageous as any member of Clan Valor. “Equestria would beat you. We’re ready for the volcano, and we’re ready for you.”
“Maybe.” He turned his back to her, making his way back to the armorers. He let them resume their work, and remove his breastplate. “I am determined never to know what might happen in that event. So many young lords play with the lives of their subjects like counters on the great board. It is so easy for them to ignore the price they pay with each move, because those prices are paid by those beneath them. It is right to spend the blood if the goal is good, they think. Or maybe they think as Gabriel did, that because the course is ancient it must also be correct. I don’t see any of them hurrying to farm the way the ancients do, dumping their fertilizers into the river. Or bleeding themselves as the ancient doctors did, hoping to balance their humors.”
“You didn’t have to kill him,” Starlight Glimmer said again, stubbornly.
Gaius didn’t even turn around. “If I hadn’t killed him, Equestrian visitor to my empire, then I would have proved the very point Gabriel had come to make. I would’ve proved that I was too weak to rule. His challenge was defeated, but some other lord would’ve challenged in his place. Besides Gabriel and myself, do you know how many of the remaining three lords favor peace? One, house Valor. If I had done as you suggested, Equestria would be facing invasion. Gabriel’s voice whispering discontent in the shadows, constantly moving his allies to provoke a war. He would have got his war, during the time we can least afford it.”
Guinevere banged the metal doors of the cabinet closed, trapping the Voidsteel within. Her engineers would repair any damage it had taken, along with caring for the new set he had won from Gabriel. A pity he had only one son, who already had his own set of Voidplate. Gaius would have to think who would wear this new set.
“The stories we hear from Equestria led me to expect you to be more intelligent,” his wife said, staring down with disapproval at the pony. “Here you stand, having just heard a cry of war called out against your nation. My husband puts his life between Equestria and the armies of birds ravenous for war and with nowhere else to go for shelter, and you respond with moral outrage. Would you prefer an invasion? We can’t hide ourselves away in the mountains and hibernate until the danger has passed, as the dragons have already begun to do.”
Starlight Glimmer opened her mouth to retort, but Guinevere only raised her voice. “I’m not finished yet. Not only has my husband just put his life in danger to protect the treaty, he’s put it in danger to protect you as well. If Gabriel had won just now, which pony do you think would be the first to feel his wrath? I just can’t imagine where he might find one to use to symbolically declare his war. Oh wait, there was one in the box a few feet from the arena.” She turned her tail on Starlight, huffing indignantly. “The least you could do is show a little respect.”
She didn’t even wait for a response—Guinevere gathered up her engineers and marched out of the preparation hall, rolling the cart of Voidsteel along with her.
The unicorn half-looked like she might be about to lash out at someone. But then she slumped, looking away from him. “I don’t know if Celestia will be happy to hear about this.”
The emperor shrugged. “When you write to your princess, make sure you get the words spoken today exactly right, Starlight Glimmer. I can have a transcript sent to you. The princess already knows how we resolve our disputes. What you tell her will not be new information. We have fought many wars, and some of them on the same side.”
Of course, the emperor had not been alive for that time—whatever secret to eternal life the Alicorns had, they didn’t share it with their own kind, let alone enemy rulers. Gaius knew of several who had chosen that reason exactly to go to war with Equestria, hoping to make themselves eternal emperors. But Celestia still ruled, and they were all dead. It is wise for a bird to know he cannot move the mountains.
“Yes, yes, of course. I’m suuuure she does.” She turned away from them, huffing and puffing for a moment. “I’ll… be back tomorrow.” She vanished in a flash of bright light, leaving the space entirely absent. Several of the guards gasped—probably they hadn’t believed that ponies could really perform such incredible magic. Gaius himself was not surprised—he had killed ponies before. He knew what they could do.
“Do you think she’ll jeopardize the treaty?” Velar asked, into the silence that followed. “She didn’t seem… happy. You should’ve seen her while you were fighting. She looked like she was having a fit.”
“No, I don’t think so,” Gaius said, after a long time. “I saw her eyes. That pony knows what it is to rule—she’s done terrible things of her own. She hated what she saw because it reminded her too much of herself.”
Velar laughed. “Starlight Glimmer? Did you smell her? It’s like she bathes in shampoo. Painted hooves, mane delicately groomed… she’s like a peacock. No danger at all.”
Gaius did not laugh. “That is precisely what makes them so dangerous, son. You see a bird with blood on his beak and you know he has killed before—but a few drops of poison in his glass and a female can kill him without effort. Ponies are like… a whole race of females. None of them know how to fight, but they are all cunning. Do not be fooled by what you see.”
Prince Velar nodded, though he didn’t feel convinced. The vanishing act was an impressive trick, but he’d seen magic shows before. No doubt the pony had dazed them with a flash, then gone running. Dramatic exits were the stuff of females who couldn’t fight their own battles. “I will… go check on the preparations of our fleet,” he said. “I wonder how many I will catch trying to conceal weapons this time.”
Gaius nodded to him. “Be careful, Velar. Gabriel’s supporters will want to strike back at me if they can. Don’t drink anything with less than half measures of water.”
Inwardly, Velar swore. But he couldn’t let that show. He just saluted again. “Of course, father. I will be careful.” Besides, you insist I take my honor guard with me everywhere outside the palace these days. I wouldn’t be in danger even if you did let me celebrate your victory properly.
Velar flew from the arena, nodding politely to Derek, captain of his honor guard. He did intend to check on the ships, as he had promised. He was no scruffy hatchling out of House Vengeance, content to cast his words adrift like shed feathers into the wind. A bird without his honor was less than an animal.
He arrived at a shipyard bustling with activity—renewed after the result of the duel. A few of the workmasters looked visibly disappointed to be back to disarming the great fleet—though they belonged to his house (or were at least employed by them), they were still birds. Anything they did to make themselves weaker seemed alien for a griffon.
Still, they remembered his last visit, and he found no more secret cannons tucked away behind casks or under the false bottoms of lower decks. Each of the captains saluted him, congratulating him on Gaius’s victory. Insisting that they had been in the stands rooting for him.
Some of them even sounded like they were telling the truth.
Velar walked from the docks rather than flying, lost in his thoughts of honor and war. He could still hear the pony’s terror when he had told her that Gaius was going to kill Gabriel. Hear her begging to stop the battle. How can creatures so weak have resisted us so long? Why hasn’t their society come apart?
He slowed a little as he passed the slave-market, listening to the sound of shouts from outside. Half a dozen soldiers wearing blue Virtue uniforms were gathered outside one of the merchant houses. Velar stopped in the street with the crowd, listening to the confrontation. He heard a brawl going on inside—wood smashing, glass shattering, before a bird went plummeting from the second-story window. A brutish minotaur leapt down after him, wrenching the merchant up by the neck before he could fly, dragging him off to the leader of the enforcement team.
Velar recognized both at a glance—the merchant’s name was Cass—one of House Vengeance’s slimiest, dirtiest scoundrels. Velar was fairly certain he had somehow found a way to sell his own wife, though such stories were impossible to verify.
Velar heard a gasp from beside him, a very familiar sound. He turned, and saw Starlight Glimmer was only a few feet away. His honor guard obviously didn’t consider her a threat, since they’d let her approach without resistance.
“You want I should break his neck, Gina?” grunted the brute. The bird in his grip continued to struggle, slashing with claws at whatever he could reach. The minotaur ignored the gashes, instead squeezing tighter and tighter. Until the bird stopped struggling.
A griffin with a stripped white and black coat glanced down at the pad of paper in front of her, then up at the line of slaves standing outside the merchant house. They were a sorry lot—some of the worst Velar had seen in a long time. Half-starved, with a few infected wounds in skin or coat. “No need,” the bird said, marking off a few things on the form with her pen.
“Are you prepared to act civilized, Cass?” She tore the top sheet away from the pad.
He nodded, and she snapped her claws. The brute dropped him to the ground.
Immediately he rose, clutching at his throat with one claw. “You can’t… take my… property,” he wheezed.
“Actually, we can.” She extended the sheet. “Every piece of merchandise in the building. You’re already liable for the cost of their treatment—do you want to lose your license as well?”
He took the paper so quickly it ripped a little in the center. He didn’t look like he could read it—anything but the numbers. Most males could read those, even if it was pushing the bounds of propriety. “Lord Gabriel will be hearing about his,” he muttered, storming back towards the merchant-house.
Velar couldn’t help himself—he laughed. “That’s the best you can manage, Cass? You should’ve known you’d be brought in one of these days. Can’t treat slaves the way you do forever, eh?”
The bird only cursed in response, ignoring him.
Starlight Glimmer had been making her way closer for the entirety of this exchange. She stared past the line of enforcers as they began escorting the slaves away. “Can’t he? I thought that was the point.”
“Of course not.” Velar didn’t look sideways—pretending like he hadn’t realized who she was. “Honor requires certain rules to be respected. The strong own the weak, but it is their responsibility to be good stewards. You could ask the enforcer if you want specifics.”
Officer Gina was passing them at that moment, at the back of the line of slaves. She noticed him, saluted, but didn’t say more.
“No, no.” Starlight shook her head vigorously. “I don’t want excuses for what you do. I know all about that.”
“Well then.” Velar turned now, trying to look polite. “Perhaps you’d like to enjoy some wine with me instead. I know a place that serves an excellent vintage—and all the vineyards are set to be incinerated in a few months, so we might as well enjoy it while we can.”
The unicorn looked at him with an expression he couldn’t read. Shock? Disgust? It was so hard to judge pony emotions. “No thank you, Velar,” she spat. She vanished in another flash of light before he could make a reply.