Love, Sugar, and Sails

by DSNesmith

17. The Bareback Rider

The building’s entrance was bathed in dim, red light from the filtered lampposts lining the streets. There was no door, just a crimson curtain drawn across the entryway arch. The sign that hung above the door displayed a zebra mare lying on her stomach with her head propped up on one leg, beckoning with her free hoof. Curving text below the picture bore the name, The Bareback Rider. The name was written in Zebrillic below that. There was a small notice to the side of the entrance that said All Payments in Advance.

Wheatie tugged on his collar. He was in his undress blues, the most casual clothing he’d brought with him; just a soldier on leave looking for some fun. Beside him, Zanaya was dressed a little fancier. She hadn’t opted to wear any clothing, but had dug out some white-and-blue coral beaded jewelry in the old Zebrican style, a pair of earrings and a necklace, that looked simply stunning.

He pulled his eyes away and glanced around at the busy streets. It was past midnight, but that was when this district really came alive. Dozens of groups of zebras, ponies, griffons, and more strolled past, drinking and laughing as they headed off to find entertainment for the night. Wheatie grinned, fondly remembering nights on the town with his brothers-in-arms back in Canterlot.

“Well,” said Zanaya, sizing up the building, “here we are. Are you ready?”

“Yes,” said Wheatie, rubbing his hooves. “Let’s see what this zebra knows.” They pushed past the curtain to enter the building.

Inside, they found themselves in a large foyer. The room was carpeted with pink fibers, and filled with members of half a dozen species. Zebras, male and female, were giving massages to the various customers lounging on plush, red cushions around the room. More red, satin curtains adorned the walls, lit softly by candles held in stands around the room. The air smelled exotic; a heady blend of wine and fruit, with just the tiniest hint of excited sweat.

On the far side of the room extended a hallway. The entrance was covered with long strings of beads. They rattled as a zebra wearing a pouch around her neck pushed her way through them, beaming. “Hello, my friends,” she said, striding toward Wheatie and Zanaya. Her voice was rich and smooth. “My name is Zami. Welcome to my establishment.”

“Hello,” said Zanaya, dipping her head in greeting.

“I trust you’ll enjoy your time here,” said Zami, bowing. “Which of our services were you hoping to sample tonight?”

Wheatie took another whiff of that enticing scent. “A friend recommended the place to us. He said we should ask for Zedya.”

Zami smiled. “Yes, Zedya is very popular with our customers. I’m sure you’ll be pleased with her service.” She looked back and forth between them. “We take our payment up front, I’m afraid.”

“Of course.” Wheatie pulled his coinpurse from his breast pocket. “How much?”

Zami’s eyes flicked up as she calculated. “One zebra, one pony, minus the discount for couples…” She glanced at Wheatie. “Would you like any… experience enhancers? We have a fine selection of wines, stimulants, and other substances. All legal, of course.” Wheatie shook his head. Zami nodded and resumed her count. “Your total comes out to three-hundred and twenty bits.”

Wheatie’s eyes bulged, but he resisted a cough of outrage. He counted out the gold coins and handed them to Zami, who slid them into the pouch around her neck. Wheatie winced. That money was coming out of his personal funds instead of his usual assignment budget; he hadn’t fancied trying to explain this as an “operational expense” to Captain Inger.

Satisfied, Zami beckoned them to follow her. She led them through the sheet of beads into the hallway. On the right wall were mounted dozens of pegs. Many of them had little slips of pink cloth tied around them. Zami traced along them with a hoof, reaching an empty peg, and smiled again. “Looks like she’s free. I’ll show you to the room.”

Wheatie and Zanaya followed her through the building. The hallway was lined with more open entryways where curtains served as doors. Wheatie heard more than a few soft moans from within the rooms as they passed. Zanaya gave him a look and grinned, nudging his flank with a hoof. Wheatie’s mouth twisted dryly.

At last, after taking a few turns in the hall, Zami came to a stop beside one of the doorways. She pulled the curtain aside and gestured inside. “Go on in. Zedya will take good care of you both, I can assure you. Enjoy.” Wheatie stepped in first, and Zanaya followed him. The curtain fell back behind them, and the sound of Zami’s soft hoofsteps on the carpet faded away.

The room was cozier than he’d expected. On the right wall stood a cabinet, filled with bottles of expensive-looking wine—Zanaya hadn’t been kidding about this being a high-class establishment. The walls were all curtained like the rest of the building, aside from a space for the candle holders on each one. The main feature of the room was, of course, the giant bed that took up most of the space. It had creamy pink sheets and half a dozen pillows of various sizes. Wheatie tried to suppress his curiosity about some of the more unusual-looking ones. The final detail was a golden rope that hung from the ceiling beside the bed.

Zedya herself was reclining on the bed as they entered. Wheatie’s eyebrows rose of their own accord. She was wearing no makeup, as far as he could tell, but she didn’t need any. Her mane was luxurious, cascading down her neck in tumbles of dichromatic curls, and the curves of her back invited the imagination to thrilling places.

She slid out of the bed, giving the pair a sultry smile. “Welcome.”

Wheatie inhaled, and caught a blast of perfume that made his brain go fuzzy. Whatever she was wearing, it was intoxicating.

Zanaya returned the smile in kind. “Hello.” She flicked her tail.

Wheatie felt a bead of sweat on his back. Two gorgeous mares and a bed the size of a house. Normally, this is the part where I’d wake up…

Zedya reached them, and traced a hoof along Zanaya’s cheek. “Mm. It’s been some time since I had a couple.” She slowly circled the pair, brushing up against them. “So, would you like me to take the lead? Or did you have something… specific in mind?”

“Actually, we do,” said Wheatie, trying very hard to ignore the part of him that wanted to let this glorious fantasy play out to its natural conclusion.

“Yes,” said Zanaya, rubbing her shoulder against his, drawing an involuntary breath. Wheatie looked up at the ceiling. Not helping, Zanaya.

She lowered her voice. “We’d be very, very happy if you could do something for us…”

Zedya put her hooves around Wheatie’s neck and leaned against him. Her voice filled with promises, she asked, “What would you like?”

Zanaya’s eyes narrowed, and her smile hardened. “To start, I’d like to hear everything you know about the Pit Vipers.”

Instantly, Zedya cooled. Her smile never vanished, but Wheatie could feel her stiffen up. She pulled her hooves slowly away, and Wheatie bid a mournful farewell to the opportunity of a lifetime. “The Pit Vipers?” She sounded mildly curious. “They’re those pirates, aren’t they?”

“That’s right,” said Wheatie, fighting through the fog in his head. Zedya began edging to the side, but he subtly shifted his position to block the doorway. “You know. Sugar thieves, wear lots of green?”

“I don’t know much about them, I’m afraid,” she said, slowly retreating.

“According to our friend Tatius Gableclaw, you do,” said Zanaya, slinking forward in that panther-like manner she had.

“Tatius?” Zedya was all innocence. “Who’s that?”

Zanaya gave her a catlike smile. “You’re a good actor, I’ll give you that much.”

Zedya’s smile lost its seductive edge and curled wryly. “It’s part of the job.”

Suddenly, she flung herself across the bed, grabbing the golden cord in her mouth. She yanked on it twice before Zanaya could pull her away from it. Wheatie heard a bell ringing faintly, somewhere else in the building. “Oh, damn.”

Zanaya, holding the struggling Zedya down on the bed, looked up in alarm. “What was that?”

“Security alert, I’ll bet,” said Wheatie, cursing inwardly. Just as he lifted his right hoof to turn, a griffon and a bulky zebra barged through the curtain. The zebra’s hoof was already sailing toward his head as they burst into the room. It connected, sending him flying back onto the bed.

Zanaya and Zedya fell off on the right side of the bed, still struggling, but they dropped from Wheatie’s attention as the two guards attacked. The zebra jumped onto the bed and tried to smash his hoof back into Wheatie’s face again, but Wheatie rolled over and dodged the blow. He grabbed the zebra’s leg, pulling him down onto the sheets. They grappled, each vying for a solid hold. This was not the bedtime activity I had in mind, thought Wheatie, irritably.

The griffon tried to join his partner, but Wheatie lashed out with a hind leg and took him in the face. The griffon reeled backward, stunned. The distraction let the zebra get in another good punch to his face, leaving him seeing stars.

The guard was strong, but Wheatie was a Firewing. He slid out from under the zebra, and immediately rolled around. He wrapped his forelegs across the zebra’s chest from behind, crushing toward himself. The guard twisted and turned, trying to escape the submission hold, but he couldn’t break free. Wheatie heard a crack as one of the zebra’s ribs broke, and winced in sympathy. The poor guard was just doing his job, after all.

Wheatie rolled off the bed, managing to plant his hind legs on the floor while still holding the guard. At last, the zebra went limp in submission. Wheatie dropped him, and the guard fell to the floor, clutching his side and groaning. Panting, Wheatie turned back to deal with the other one.

The griffon slammed into him, and they crashed up against the wall. Wheatie snarled as he tried to worm away, but the griffon bit down on his shoulder.

“Ow!” He curled his right hind leg and kicked the griffon in the gut. The avian stumbled backward, and Wheatie dived at him. They tumbled back onto the bed again, fumbling for a position of leverage.

The griffon found one first. He rolled over on top of Wheatie’s chest, pinning him down, and grabbed a pillow with his claws. He pushed the pillow down over Wheatie’s face, trying to smother him into unconsciousness.

Wheatie strained against the guard, but the griffon was too heavy to simply push away. He gasped for breath, smelling perfume and sweat from the pillow’s fabric. The edges of his vision began to darken as his lungs ached for air.

He heard a heavy thunk, and suddenly the pressure on his face vanished. He swiftly batted aside the pillow, ready to come up swinging, only to find the guard toppling off of him out cold. Zanaya stood in front of him, one hoof planted on the sheets, holding a wine bottle in her mouth and panting, her face flushed with adrenaline.

Behind her, Zedya was making a break for the exit. Wheatie pointed in alarm, and Zanaya whirled around to smack the bottle into the back of the other zebra’s head. Zedya hit the floor, giving a little howl of pain.

Zanaya dropped the bottle and gave Wheatie a worried look. “You okay?”

“Fine,” said Wheatie, rubbing his shoulder where the griffon had bitten him.

Zanaya pulled Zedya up off of the floor and pinned her against the wall. She growled. “Now, where were we? Oh, yes. You were about to tell us about your connection to the Pit Vipers.”

“Okay! Okay!” Zedya squirmed. “Fine, you lunatics!” Zanaya released her hold a bit, and Zedya slumped. “I’m not really part of their group. I just handle message drop offs.”

“Like what?”

“How should I know? Sometimes, clients come in here and show me a green slip of fabric with a snake sewn on it. They leave me a package or a message, and then a few days later another one shows up to collect.”

Zanaya frowned. “What about Tatius?”

“They told me he’d be coming in here, and that I was to hand off a necklace and some instructions to him. I did. That’s all I know, I swear.”

“Why are you helping them?” asked Wheatie, still massaging his shoulder.

Zedya gave an uncharacteristic grin. “They’re very good tippers.”

Wheatie snorted. “Any other important ‘clients’ you’ve had dealings with?”

“Just tonight?” Zedya’s eyes narrowed and her smile widened. “I see a lot of important people.”

With an irritated glare, Zanaya cuffed her on the back of the head. “Working for the Vipers, we mean.”

“Most of my Viper-affiliated clients are low-ranking zebras. There was one pony, though.” Zedya gave a mock frown. “He never actually sampled my services during his pick-ups. All business, that one.”

“Who?”

Zedya smiled as she looked right into Zanaya’s eyes. “Arcturus Milliden. The Equestrian Ambassador.”

Wheatie blinked, stunned. He’d suspected there was something going on with Milliden, but to hear it so bluntly that the ambassador was working for the pirates was a shock.

Hooves thudded from somewhere down the hall. Zanaya released Zedya, turning to Wheatie. “Come on, soldier boy. We’ve got to get out of here before more guards show up.”

Wheatie nodded. As Zanaya pushed through the curtain, he turned to Zedya and tossed her the last few of the coins from his pouch. She raised an eyebrow. He jerked his head back toward the bed and the two comatose guards. “When they wake up, give them a treat. On me. To make up for breaking his rib.”

She smiled dryly. “All right. Sure you don’t want to stick around and get your money’s worth? You did pay for it, after all.”

Wheatie pursed his lips. “Ah…”

“Wheatie!” called Zanaya. He gave Zedya an apologetic shrug and sped out of the room.

From the far end of the hallway, two more zebra guards were rushing toward them. Wheatie and Zanaya fled, running through the building past dozens of curtained rooms. A few inquisitive heads poked out after them, only to pull sharply back inside as the guards came charging past. They burst through the bead curtain into the lobby, drawing cries of alarm from the patrons. Zebras scurried to get out of their way as they raced for the exit.

Wheatie was out first, galloping out onto the cobblestones. Zanaya was close behind. “Go right!” she said, swerving.

He followed her down the street, his hooves thudding on the street. They ran half a block down the road and turned into an alleyway. Both of them pressed up against a wall, trying to catch their breath.

“Think they’ll follow us?” he asked, his chest heaving.

“I doubt it,” she answered, breathing hard. “We didn’t do enough damage to be worth the effort. And these establishments don’t like getting involved in the legal system, so I doubt we’ll be hearing any formal complaints, either.”

They stood there, looking at each other, breathing, and Wheatie grinned. “What a rush, huh?”

Zanaya returned the grin. “You haven’t seen anything yet, soldier boy.” She pulled him close, closed her eyes, and their lips met. Wheatie gave a happy hum. Zanaya was an excellent kisser, though there was a little more tongue this time than there had been at dinner the other night. He reciprocated, quite enthusiastically.

She pulled back, her face still red with adrenaline. “Your place, or mine?”

“I don’t have a place,” he said, his heart still pounding from the run and the last fifteen minutes of unbearable sexual frustration. “Unless you mean the embassy.”

“Oh, right,” she breathed. “Well then, my house it is.”

He spread his wings. “Hop on.”

“Oh, I intend to.” She climbed onto his back, wrapping her hooves around his neck. “Let’s go,” she whispered warmly into his ear.

Wheatie grinned and took to the air.

* * *

Unsurprisingly, pillow talk with Zanaya was about the investigation. They hadn’t had much of a chance to discuss their findings since escaping the Rider, so that was where the conversation naturally turned. As Wheatie administered a backrub that melted Zanaya like butter, the two mulled over what they’d learned.

“So Milliden’s working for the Vipers,” said Zanaya, lying her head on the sheets

Wheatie gently massaged her shoulders. “He always did seem like an ass,” he said. “Still, I didn’t think he was an actual traitor.”

“Mmm. Is he a traitor? I mean, the pirates are harassing Zyre, not Equestria.” Zanaya cooed happily as he pressed firmly on her lower back.

Wheatie shrugged. “They’ve hit our shipping, too. That makes them enemies of the state. Helping them is treason. Milliden’s in hot water when the Princess finds out about this.”

“If it’s true.” Zanaya laconically stretched her forelegs. “That little coquette might have lied. We’re going to need to find proof.”

“Things have been going smoothly, so far.” Wheatie returned his attention to her upper back, and she gave a happy mumble. “Maybe we’ll get lucky and find something in his office.”

“Worth a shot,” she said dreamily. “Ooh, right there. There’s a knot.” As he moved to rectify the situation, she gave a thoughtful look at the ceiling. “Although, I’m curious as to what all these meetings he’s been having are about. I think we should split up. We’ll wait until he leaves tomorrow. You check his office, I’ll tail him.”

Wheatie calmly continued his ministrations. “Sounds like a plan.” He yawned. “We’ll head over in the morning and ask the secretary about his schedule.”

Zanaya’s voice lowered. “And then maybe we’ll find out what happened to Tyria and Rye.” Her shoulders tensed up beneath his hooves.

Wheatie gave them a reassuring rub. “We’ll find them, Zanaya.”

She sighed, resting her head again. “I hope so, Wheatie. I hope so.”

Comments

[Cystenian Remir Rhys]

My reaction, boiled down for brevity;

This is excellent.

[Magnum Hocus]

Short. Pinto. Pirate.
At first I thought this was a reference, but considering this is a romance story, I'm not so sure.
That's it, from now on, I'm looking at Rye as Pipsqueak's ancestor. I mean, seriously, even their mane and coat colors are the same.