The Buffalo Telegraph

by Horse Voice

3. The Hand of Agency

It was near sunset when Caballeron’s wagon stopped. The two prisoners were hauled bodily out and set upon the ground, leaning against each other. The blindfolds were pulled from their eyes, and both were able to turn their heads to see their captor, who stood by with a smug expression upon his muzzle and the Human’s Hand still held in one forehoof.

“Mr. Gunsmoke advised me to test you, Daring Do,” he said. “That is, to see whether you could swim with chains around your legs.”

Daring regarded him coolly.

Caballeron turned to his lackeys and ordered them to start cooking. Looking around, Clyde could see that the villains had stopped at a small camp, made up of five large tents around a fire pit, in which two of them began to set kindling while a third unpacked cans from a wooden crate. The camp was built a little way within the entrance of a great crevasse that opened into the desert beyond. Sandstone cliffs stretched high above on either side, so that the camp would be almost impossible for anypony to see unless they passed right by the entrance. Worse, Clyde could not remember seeing a place like this in his travels.

Caballeron turned back to the prisoners and addressed Daring. “But Ahuizotol asked me to bring you to him alive… so he could personally feed you to the volcano. It’s a pity—if you had joined my side, all this could have been avoided.”

Daring Do worked her jaw and spat on the ground before speaking. “Well, you’ll be next when he realizes the Human’s Hand is just a chunk of dead meat.”

“She’s lyin’.”

Everyone within earshot turned to Clyde, for these were the first words he had spoken since his capture.

“Clyde, what do you think you’re…” Daring’s outburst was cut short as one of the thugs, who had been standing guard beside Caballeron, reached out and cuffed her.

“What do you mean?” Caballeron’s tone suggested moderate interest, but little patience.

“She told me all about the Hand,” Clyde said, “and how it grants wishes. If you let me go, I’ll tell you how it works.”

Caballeron began tossing the Hand to himself, as one might a pouch of coins. “An interesting offer. But you might be bluffing. Tell me first, and I’ll release you.”

“I ain’t in no position to bargain more… all right.”

“Why, you dirty—” Daring Do’s outburst was cut short as the thug cuffed her again.

Clyde sighed and assumed a regretful frown. “Most folk think the Hand don’t work, ‘cause they don’t know the trick to it. That’s ‘cause o’ two peculiarities. First is, it needs some time to grant the wishes after you make ‘em. But you won’t know how much time it needs till it starts workin’.”

“Go on,” Caballeron said.

“Second, the Hand goes opposite-like. You make wishes by thinkin’ real hard about what you don’t want. So, hold the Hand and think real hard how mad you’d be if Daring Do escaped, or somethin’ like that.”

At this, Caballeron laughed. “Whatever shaman created it, he was clever. Even if his enemies stole it, they could not use it unless they knew how.”

“That’s right,” Clyde said. “Now, how about these here cords?”

Caballeron sneered. “You must be even more foolish than you look! If you would betray your accomplice—” He indicated Daring Do. “You would certainly betray us if you could. You are going nowhere.” He looked over to the fire pit, over which was suspended a pot of beans. “Still, if it works, perhaps I’ll be generous and allow you a last meal… tomorrow, of course.”

With this, he turned and led his lackey to the circle of logs that sufficed for benches around the fire. Soon there came the clattering of metal spoons in wooden bowls, and much greedy slurping and smacking of lips. Before long, a loud voice entreated Caballeron to let the speaker “uncork that hooch!”

No one was now watching the prisoners, but it did not matter, for in the ruddy light of evening, the form of Gunsmoke could be discerned standing guard over the crevasse’s entrance. The camp proper had been built at a place where the walls narrowed, so there was no way to sneak around it.

As the minutes passed and the setting sun gave way to dusk, the hum of talk about the campfire grew more boisterous, and snatches of tipsy singing began to drift into the evening air.

Daring Do tilted back and to the left, risking a whispered conversation. “I tried to play along. Sorry it didn’t work.”

“Well… it ain’t over till it’s over,” Clyde said, also in a low voice.

“I’m sorry I got you caught up in all this.”

“I forgive you. After all, holdin’ grudges never did nopony any good.” To Clyde’s surprise, he found he meant it.

“Even so, I feel bad.” Daring glanced at the figures about the fire.

A long moment passed. Then—

“Say,” Clyde said, “when you were playin’ along, did you know I was tryin’ to use the Buffalo Telegraph against Caballeron?”

“I… figured that was probably it,” Daring said slowly.

“So… you think it has a chance after all?”

Daring drew a long breath and slowly let it out before answering. “Normally, I could handle these guys. But Caballeron’s gotten smart—hiring better help. I’ve escaped from plenty of traps, but this Gunsmoke is using a kind of knot I’ve never seen before, with cord I could maybe break if I were an elephant. And I thought I had studied every knot known to Equine civilization. If I could get loose, I could fly over them—maybe, if my pulled muscle doesn’t seize up. Or not, since I couldn’t just abandon you to Caballeron’s tender mercies. So yeah—right now, I’m ready to grasp at any straw you can point me to.”

“I been askin’ for help for a few hours now,” Clyde said. “I’d be much obliged if you lent a hoof.”

She grunted. “Fine, fine. I’ll ‘picture’ us getting free. How long will do I have to keep it up?”

“It don’t gotta be perfect,” Clyde said, “just good enough. But you gotta really feel how glad you’ll be to get free.”

“Right. And I’ll try not to remember that you said there’s a time delay, and it may be too late already. That would be…”

She fell silent, for at this moment one of the thugs—the one with the sideburns—stumbled past them, carrying a gallon jug. He walked straight by and approached the lone figure at the crevasse’s entrance.

“Heeey, Gunshmoke! Try some o’ this!” His voice was loud, and he swayed where he stood.

Gunsmoke’s response was too quiet for the prisoners to hear.

“Ah, don’ be sush a soggy blanket!” said the thug, louder still. “You wunnuv ush now! Here—I inshisht!” He lurched forward and tried to hold the jug out, but stumbled. There was a sloshing, followed by a crashing of ceramic on stone. A torrent of angry shouting and stomping of hooves followed.

But this only lasted a few seconds, for a new voice rang out above the sounds of scuffle, fairly booming as it echoed down the canyon—“Now, boys! Get ‘em!”

Figures of ponies, uncountable in the dim light, charged from either side of the canyon entrance, knocking down the two stallions there and surging forward, past the prisoners and into the camp. The scene erupted into a pandemonium of shouting, jostling, kicking, and stomping. Somepony stopped to cut the prisoners’ bonds with a buck-knife, and as Clyde struggled to his hooves, he recognized his rescuer as Sheriff Silverstar.

The villains were in the hooves of the law.

“Thank you!” was all Clyde could think to say.

Silverstar’s broad grin seemed to gleam in the firelight. “Don’t mention it, son.”

“Clyde—the Hand!” Daring Do, now freed, darted toward the camp, and both Clyde and the Sheriff followed.

By now, the dozen ponies who made up Silverstar’s posse had subdued Caballeron’s lackeys, who, silly with drink, had put up little resistance. But Caballeron himself seemed not to have partaken quite as much, for he was now standing with his back to the fire, a flaming branch gripped in his teeth, kicking and thrashing and swinging with such fury that nopony dared to get close, though several of them surrounded him.

As Daring and Clyde drew near, Caballeron spat the branch onto the ground and pointed a foreleg in accusation. “You! Blast you both to Tartarus! You tricked me!” He snatched a small yellow-brown object from atop a nearby log and brandished it. “This Hand is cursed!”

“You get what you ask for, Caballeron!” Daring scuffed at the ground, and it seemed as though she might try to rush forward and seize the Hand.

But she did not get the chance: With a yell of rage, Caballeron turned and flung the Hand into the midst of the burning logs. Taking advantage of the distraction, two of the posse’s number rushed forward and tackled him to the ground. But Daring leapt forward, snatching a long two-pronged fork from the cook’s tools that lay nearby, and made to scoop the Hand from the fire. But centuries of desiccation had made the Hand as dry as tinder, and all she managed to retrieve were a few unrecognizable blackened bones.

Caballeron shouted curses and promises of revenge as they dragged him away, but Daring paid him no mind. She sat upon the stone canyon floor, staring at the charred remains. Her brow was creased and her mouth clamped shut, in the manner of one unsure whether to laugh or cry.

Clyde paused to consider what he ought to do, but only for a moment. He approached her with soft hoofsteps, took a seat beside her, and with all the gentleness of a draft horse, put a comforting hoof upon her shoulder.

“Come on, Miss Do,” he said. “Let’s go.”

* * *

They made their way back in short order, for in Silverstar’s words, he knew the territory like the back of his own hoof. He took up the lead, with Clyde and Daring on either side, the two Sheriff’s deputies guarding their flanks, and the deputized Appleoosans bringing up the rear with the prisoners. About half of the rescuers carried kerosene lamps, and if any hostile wildlife had been in their path, it shied from the light.

Daring walked in silence for the first half hour, but at last cleared her throat and said, “We appreciate the save, Sheriff. But how did you find us?”

“You two are mighty lucky,” Silverstar said. “Luggo the Clown was due for an autographin’, but when he didn’t show, and I saw a trail o’ clown duds leadin’ out o’ town, I knew somethin’ was up. I felt in my bones that this one was a doozy, so the Deputies and I rustled up some help, and we tracked these rascals ‘til we seen the smoke from their fire—two fires, actually.” He turned to Clyde. “Mighty sorry about your house. Reckon there ain’t much to salvage, except the stove. But there’s some good news, anyhow: The fire didn’t spread much, and your old wagon is fine.”

“Well,” Clyde said slowly, “guess it’s good I kept all the stuff with sentimental value in the wagon, out o’ habit.”

“It ain’t right an upstandin’ citizen should lose his home to firebugs,” Silverstar said. “Soon as everything’s sorted, I intend to pass the hat around for ya.”

“Thank you—much obliged,” Clyde said simply.

The rest of the journey passed more or less in silence, for Caballeron’s gang had been threatened with gags if they complained.

They parted ways at the ruin of Clyde’s cottage, with Daring Do electing to help him pick up the pieces. In silence, the two of them Sat down on Clyde’s lawn and watched as the posse trotted into the sunrise.

“I’m really sorry for all this,” Daring said at last.

“And I’m sorry about the Human’s Hand,” Clyde said, “it bein’ the last one left in the world and all.”

“No—I really owe you an apology. I can live without the Hand, but this…” She looked at the circle of blackened timbers and shook her head. “If I hadn’t gotten you caught up in my bad day, this wouldn’t have happened.”

“Well, you didn’t know. You were just in a tight spot, so…”

“That doesn’t make it right!” Daring stood up and kneaded the ground a little. “Look, uh, I never mentioned this, and it is kind of a secret, but… my book sales bring in a lot of bits. Like, more than I get from treasure-hunting. So, whatever those townsfolk manage to raise, I plan to match it. Your new house will be better than the old one, and I’m gonna make sure of it!”

Clyde stared at her for a moment, eyes wide. Then he drew himself up, placed his right hoof over his heart, and said, with the clearest and most precise enunciation he could: “If ever I am asked for more proof that I’ve changed my own luck for the better, I will say that I am now lucky enough to be friends with a pony of such courage and integrity as Daring Do.”

Daring half-smiled and glanced away for just a moment before obliquely meeting his eyes. “Not even a burned house can stop you from believing in that, huh?”

Clyde mustered the will to fully appraise the ruin. “Well, it’ll be rebuilt by and by, and it looks like the old stove can be rescued.”

“I guess that’s sort of like good luck,” Daring said, “but you heard the Sheriff: He was already following us by the time you started making a wish, or whatever you call it.”

“He might’ve lost the trail, though, or he might not’ve been able to sneak up on the camp. And you gotta admit it was against all odds that Gunsmoke was distracted for a second, there. I ain’t the pushy type, but I say, what’s the harm in tryin’?”

“Well… it’s possible I already did,” Daring said haltingly.

Clyde turned to her with a blink of surprise. “You made a wish you ain’t gotten?”

“Maybe not on purpose. But you said every thought goes out on the Telegraph, and there was something I was thinking about for a long time, but never even got close to.”

“What was it?”

“Promise not to laugh?”

With a forehoof, Clyde traced a cross over his heart.

“Alright—a special somepony,” Daring said quickly. “There, I said it.”

Clyde looked upward for a moment, considering. “Well, that’s what you might call one big, tall wish,” he said at last. “Those can take longer, ‘cause you gotta wait for one thing to lead to another.”

“A couple of years is a long time to wait.” There was a little edge in Daring’s voice.

“Well, did you think about havin’ a special somepony, or about how scared you were that you never would?”

Daring frowned and fixed her gaze on the ruin.

Clyde continued, making sure to keep his tone light. “Think about how glad you are for things you already got, and how glad you are that somepony is out there for ya.”

After a long moment, Daring sighed, looked at her forehooves, and have a half-hearted little laugh. “Alright, you win.” She looked to Clyde intently. “Okay. In the spirit of trying everything at least once, I’ll give it a shot. For now—” She rose to her hooves. “You said something about salvaging a stove?”

With that, Daring Do began to make good on her promise to stay and build Clyde’s new home, as he knew she would. But neither of them expected that she would stay there for so long afterward. And they certainly did not imagine that when the time came for another of her expeditions, she would drop in as soon as she returned to Equestria. And if you had said that someday, the pair of them would sit together at the edge of the rebuilt cottage’s rooftop, nuzzling as they watched the sun go down and the stars come out, they no doubt would have said you were a kook.

At least, that was what they would have told you.

---

The End

---

Comments

[odeeyou]

I actually liked this! It was cute... I would have liked the adventure to be longer and more in depth. Character growth and whanot. The implied romance was a bit rushed, but it was epilogue style and implied passage of time, and I do enjoy odd pairings. Enjoy a like!

[Starlight Nova]

Wait, Clyde? Don't you mean Troubleshoes? (I haven't read the story yet)

[Horse Voice]

8262842

According to the episode description, his full name is Troubleshoes Clyde. I figure, in his mind he is simply Clyde, given the baggage associated with "Troubleshoes."

[vren55]

I think this excellent adventure short with a good setup for a romance. I'd like you to actually follow this up and turn it into a series where Clyde keeps getting roped in around the world with Daring and Yearling learning how to open up. It certainly convinced me the pairing would work. I'd just like to see more about the nuzzling XD

[Visiden Visidane]

I think it's a very well done action/adventure story and I like the "American Folk Tale" feel to it.

I have to say that this story comes off as 99% action/adventure and 1% shipping which comes at the end. It's as if Daring Do suddenly realized 'Oh, shit! We're down to a few paragraphs and this is a shipping story. Quick, emergency confession!'

[Dafaddah]

Very cute.

[Horse Voice]

8263057

Tempting, but first I would need to know more about how romance actually, you know, works. See below.

8263306

You're right, and I hope it doesn't completely disqualify it. Full disclosure: this was me trying to get over my cynicism about romance by packaging it in adventure and friendshipping. Call it a form of exposure therapy. Obviously, I have a lot farther to go...

Thank you both for the feedback.

[totallynotabrony]

There aren't enough stories with a posse.

[horizon]

8263803
Well, a common romance failure mode is having two characters act all shmoopy at each other without ever actually establishing what makes them interested in each other. (See: chuckfinley's posts on "Alien Shipping Syndrome" and/or bookplayer's posts on the topic.) Adventure romance at least has the benefit of putting the characters in a situation where they have to team up and/or bond over shared experiences, so it feels less brainwormy.

The actual romance part of this did feel rushed, but at least it spent some time laying the groundwork for it, which a lot of stories don't.

[Horse Voice]

8265169

Quite right. And when you're new to something and want to avoid common pitfalls, the tendency is to compensate too far in the other direction and stumble into all different pitfalls.

It's as funny as it is sad--I've seen so few relationships work out for people I personally know that I had to do research on fandom couples just to have the faintest idea where to start. Any time that it worked, they started out as platonic friends. So I friendshipped them... and then ran out of time.

I maaay have also been listening to the audiobook of Thou Goddess, wondering over and over, "How did he do that?" Clearly, more research is necessary.

[FanOfMostEverything]

A most enjoyable adventure with some nice life philosophy to go along with it. And if you were implying what I think you were with Daring's family... wow.

As has been noted, the actual romance is rather glossed over, but this was still a fun and engaging read with a very novel pairing. Thank you for it, and best of luck in the judging.

[Horse Voice]

8277005

Full disclosure: I wasn't trying to imply much of anything, but now I see how it came across that way. Details in my stories tend to take shape out of whatever's on my mind at the time of writing, and I have family issues similar to DD's... though not as bad as you're no doubt imagining.

Thanks for reading!

[NikitaKitten]

I've been excited to read this story for awhile, though it's been sitting open in my browser since you published it.

It's an enjoyable enough adventure story. Uncomplicated, and a bit rushed, but enjoyable. The characters also worked well with each other, even if I don't feel that Daring Do matches her show character especially well. As for the romance, my complaint matches everyone else's: there really wasn't any. The characters worked well together, but I thought that it's a short enough story that there's just enough there to hint at a future friendship, perhaps, but not really a full relationship. Adventure stories naturally lead to relationships between the characters because the characters spend so much time interacting with each other. It becomes easy to see why the characters can become accustomed to having the other around, and for that to lead to romance. Since this story was so short, it doesn't get that easy way out. The ending just left me saying, "Well, okay, I guess that could work."

Adventure romance is pretty much my favorite genre, so I'd 've happy if you gave it another shot.

[Horse Voice]

8292157

I had been hoping you would grace this one with a critique, especially since it's one of my few offerings for people who aren't into Horror. Your criticisms are all fair, and par for the course given the story's troubled production. It seems that whenever there is a writing contest for which I have an idea, events conspire to pull me in every direction except toward my writing desk.

Worse, the characters refused to cooperate, wanting to be friends but not much else. I admit, this probably has to do with my having had plenty of friendship in my life, but almost no romance. Previous stories often required research, but this time that wasn't possible.

So in the end, with no time left, I was forced to tack a romantic angle on so it wouldn't be disqualified. But who knows--perhaps I'll be able to do some research and try again. If so, I'll keep your advice in mind.

Thanks for the feedback!

[AShadowOfCygnus]

I absolutely adored this. Neighsayers may say nay, but coming off the rest of your history, it's a nice little blend of myth, warmth, and well-rounded characters that feels very much at home in your pantheon. The interactions are brilliant, the dialogue is flawless, the jokes are subtle and on-point, and in its current form, for what it wants to do, it's absolutely perfect. Would it benefit from being a 50K-word novella, dedicated to the burgeoning relationship between these two, and the kooky adventures they find themselves in along the way? I think so. Would I read it if you wrote it? Hell yes. But Christ on a bike, I'd never presume to ask it of you. That would just be cruel. xP

On the lighter half of that note, though, I'm dead impressed. You've actually managed to take two of my least favourite beta-canon characters and turned them into a likeable couple that I actually want to read more about. Which is both wonderful, because I now have a little warm place in my heart for them, and terrible, because now I'll need to go see whether I can find any more obscure scribbles with this pairing.

Also, when next we exchange letters? Remind me to ask you something about this story.

[Horse Voice]

8342572

!

I would be tempted to write a second part, if more than 129 people had read it by this point. But this is my third dud in a row, popularity-wise. Still, the contest I wrote it for will supposedly have another installment, and perhaps I can write a stand-alone sequel as my entry...

As for whether these two team up in other stories--the contest prompt was to ship two characters who have never (or almost never) been shipped before, so I checked, and this is the only other one.

[Horse Voice]

8399578

Maybe they came in late, maybe they thought it was too obvious. It doesn't help that so few people read this one.

[Walabio]

I like this story. I especially like the skepticism of Daring Do.

[PresentPerfect]

The shipping needs work, but the rest of this absolutely fantastic and you need to write more stories like it. :D

[Applejinx]

Awwwww! I liked these ponies immediately, and I figured they would probably end horribly but at least it would be a hell of a ride.

This was so nicely adorable! Thank you for using your powers for adorable now and again

[Horse Voice]

9768884

Thank you! It was such fun playing against type, I'll have to do it again some time... I hope.

[Applejinx]

9769502
You might say there's a reia hope