Before he could speak, I stuck a hoof into the proceedings. “I will tell you why it should be read, Nore, my dear. If it was for Ground Nest alone, I would not bother at all. When you suggested that the Exile search for Gray Feather, that was well done. For Gray Feather, not Ground Nest. And that is why we should read the paper.
“Is Gray Feather even alive? Until we read it, we will not even know that. For the colt, read it. Find out for us where he is, dead or alive.”
Nodding, she said, “Thank you for guiding my steps when I was in the wrong, my dear husband, our Ghost Who Guides. The paper says:
'My good friend, the colt that you seek is still living. If he receives no help, he will die sometime tomorrow of thirst and starvation. He fled the flood by going up and to the far end of the house. He is in the furthest attic corner of the standing part of the ruin. He is silenced by the fear of the flood that Ground Nest unleashed, destroying the only home that he has ever known.'”
Nore looked up, tears in her eyes. “I am sorry for my outburst. You were most ill behaved is all that I may say in my defense. We will give you a flask of good spring water and some baked rations that we make for travel. They are compact but nourishing.”
Malit brought Ground nest a fine flask of wood so dense that it was black. It was heavy with water. She added a wrapped package of clover/sweet sorrel biscuits.
“Take these and go, Ground Nest. Save your brother. Remember this, too. Wherever we of Rom’s band go, or wherever we settle, you have no welcome at all.” She turned her back to him. Nore turned her back as well. All of the rest of the band followed suit. Nodding agreement, I did too.
We heard the flutter of wings as Ground Nest left. Turning about, we gave Sunbreak and her crew a warm welcome and tea with nettle/sorrel baked biscuits.
Showing how little she missed, Sunbreak asked, “I see that you are washing the gravel that you are filling up low spots and holes in the bedrock downstream. Why bother with washing it?”
I replied seriously, “Princess Luna wrote the standards for Equestrian road building. She says that washed gravel is what should be used. From long experience with her Royal Roads and the ones built by others, I have to agree that she knows best.”
Sunbreak nodded acceptance and conversation went to the problems between here and Riten’s notch, where I planned on our leaving the Maze and getting down to the flats and the Royal Road system.
Taking me aside to stroll while sipping our excellent tea, Sunbreak quietly asked, “So, how much gold are your pon … horses, finding?”
“Umm, a substantial amount. No way to be sure, yet. Both purity and proper weights can’t be checked until I get back to where I can find jeweler’s equipment. Since I have been this way before, I have to guess that this lode was uncovered by the flooding.”
“That reminds me, Marchhare,” Sunbreak giggled, “I have the golden bits for the damage to your rain awning. When the Weather Authority heard how it happened, they settled on the spot!”
She hoofed over four golden bits, which I took.
“I have a different question for you, old friend. You seem unchanged from when I first met you, at Stone Ridge. How old are you?”
“I really don’t know, Sunbreak. I am elderly, is all that I can say. When I was born, nobody kept records of the births, marriages or deaths of donkeys. Most places still won’t, in spite of the Edict of Equality. Goes for goats too.”
Sadly, she nodded, “I know. We, the whole Wing of us, put you in for a Celestian Courage medal after you saved all fifteen survivors at Stone Ridge where the Gryphons caught us on the ground. It was rejected because 'donkeys don’t have any guts.’
“We did appeal it to the Princesses but I never heard what happened from then on. We were too busy with the closing actions of the South Peak War.”
I put a hoof on her foreleg. “I did get it. Luna found the application and appeal in some trash. She and Celestia were furious at the way that it had been handled. Five officers were broken in rank because of it. A Royal Guards Pegasus was dispatched to deliver the medal and benefice.”
Sunbreak said softly, “That is good. I will never forget your courage in coming to our rescue, braving a Gryphon Aerial attack to get our injured a wagon and pull us out.”
I noticed Nore, not far off, looking somewhat surprised but nodding to herself.
With the knowledge of our way assured, even a map provided by Sunbreak, we set out for Riten’s notch. Oh, yes. And a nice poke of gold. It was easiest to work our way downstream on the bare washed bedrock. That gave us many excuses to pause and “wash gravel” to fill holes and make our way easier.
We did have to work our way around a few pools behind big log jams. As we came to yet another, I saw Rom standing near to the dangerous tangle of trunks, broken and whole, shattered limbs, brush and debris. He was shaking his head.
“Marchhare, my friend, how could water do such a thing as this? In Gyptia we had to battle for any drop, whether for drink or crop. Here, it can run wild and destroy all in its path.”
“If it helps, Rom, my friend, I have never seen such a thing as this in all of my years. I think that this was the worst flood of recorded Equestrian history.”
We struggled to get the whole caravan around the end of the tangle, going as high up the canyon side as we dared and digging more or less level places into the dangerously sodden soil to keep the caravans from tipping over.
Sando’s care with design came to the fore on the many downslopes. Long levers, driving shorter ones, set the brakes firmly against the iron of the wheel tires and kept all of our loads manageable. Not easy, but manageable.
It took us three days of brutal labor to reach Riten’s notch.
Staring up the slope, Sarel said, “THIS is the easy way out of here?”
I nodded, glumly. “Afraid so. Both the river course and road are so badly ruined with mud from here down, that we could never get through. Here, the brush and roots of smaller trees have held the soil. We can use this slope safely, if not easily.”
Sarel looked thoughtfully at the slope and ducked into the caravan that was now hers and Rom’s. She came out with a length of bright yellow cloth. She carefully ripped it into set of streamers.
She hoofed them to Nore and I. “If we are going to climb that slope with our caravans, we need to mark our route carefully for the turning places and safe resting spots.”
Nore, Rom and I began the tedious work of setting the flags to mark our route. Nore pointed quietly up slope to where a pegasus was tree roosting.
I nodded quietly. “I see our little spy. Ground Nest is back and he is watching us. That means that he is seeing if he can plan some other 'little prank.’ I am sure that you know what I mean.”
Nore looked like she was chewing sour-grass. “He makes me glad that I am a Horse, not a pony. I wish that more were like that nice Sunbreak.
“I am curious about those marks that some paint on their flanks. Why do they do that?”
“Um, they don’t, sweet love. When a pony finds what it is that they are truly meant to do, the mark appears by itself. There have been horses from other Desert Kingdoms who visited Canterlot, so I am told. None of them ever had such a mark.”
Carefully cutting away some small brush but leaving the roots to hold soil, Nore observed acidly, “Ground Nest must not be any good at anything. His flank is plain!”
Sando and Rom, gathering the cut brush and small trees to finish clearing the road, giggled at her remark. Down where the caravan of wagons awaited safe passage, we saw Malit and Sarel giggling when they heard it while Rom and Sando dropped of the latest load of road clearings.
The way that we were clearing and flagging was dangerously narrow but the best that we could manage. The way cleared to the top, we returned for our caravan.
Sparing a glance upward, I got a shock. There was a formation of pegassi flying overhead. I recognized the search formation from too many past wars. I could see Sunbreak flying Observation Leadership. Sun was glinting and flashing from pegasus flying armor. That was not a good sign. Worse, the formation was working Riten’s Notch. Something really serious was up.
We started up the marked safe route, really leaning hard into the harnesses. We were all keeping our brake control lines tight to lock the brakes at any trace of a slip or other problem.
A panting Nore was counting our cadence, “Lean left, lean right! Heave! Lean left! Look! He’s out of the tree! What? Our safety flags! He is stealing them!”
It was true. As bad as that was, what followed was worse, for me. From high up came the call, “Target acquired! Fire at will!”
That was followed instantly by the hard driven snap and rattle of Equestrian Military Heavy Aerial Crossbows! Feathers blasting away from his right wing and some fragments of feathers from his left, Ground Nest swerved out of control and slammed into the steep hillside! He tumbled down the slope, scattering fragments of wing pinions and our safety flags.
Wasting not a second, Nore heaved our brake line full tight and called back down the line, “Brake Hard! Hold position! Our marker flags have been ripped out! Brake and Hold!”
She secured our brake line tight to the whipple staff and cried out to me, “GO! I will hold here! Save him if you can!”
I was ahead of her on this. I was already released from the double tree and running to catch Ground Nest. In the Wars that I have been in, saving the enemy fallen was as important as saving our own. This was no different. Ambulance duty is ambulance duty.
I managed to stop his tumble. It took no skill to see that he was in a bad way. Both wings were out of action. Not only feathers had been hit. He had broken bones in both wings. Deep lacerations in all of his flight systems spoke of worse injuries inside. He had two hits in his neck and four body/flank hits as well.
I was grabbing our flags to stanch wounds for transport. Nore appeared beside me with more cloths and clean water. Ground Nest, for once, was silent. He was unconscious. Touching his injuries, he twitched and moved some. I pointed out a spot on his neck. “Inside there, Nore, you will feel something like a cord. Very gently, pinch it. When he no longer moves, we can deal with his wounds.”
As we worked I told Nore, “Treat his broken bones as a new form of wood. Mend them together as well as you can, I will pull on them to get them as straight as possible.”
We got visitors. Sunbreak and part of her team had landed all about us with a light clank of armor. She cautioned the others, “Marchhare is a qualified medic. He did ambulance service in the South Peak Gryphon War. Let him do whatever he can for the prisoner.”
While we were working over the fallen Ground Nest, I heard the creaking of a wagon getting under way. Rom, Sando, and Phapa had hitched onto our wagon, setting the harness and trees differently than for just Nore and I. The three of them, got our caravan up to the switchback fairly easily, in spite of its size. They returned and another caravan was got up the grade. We were still working to save the idiot when they had the last of the caravans up to the safer parking of the turnabout.
When we had done what we could, I returned Ground Nest to Sunbreak. Mildly, knowing that this many military effectives do not wind up under the command of a retired Recon in Force officer without good reason, I asked, “What did Ground Nest do this time?”
Soberly, Sunbreak replied, “He escaped while being given a trial under the Royal Wing. There is already a Nationally Posted reward for his capture dead or alive. Brace yourselves. Two thousand five hundred golden bits. Given free of all taxation, local, district, County, or Royal.”
I whistled. That was easily ten years income for any ordinary pony of Equestria.
I looked up at Sunbreak and asked, “Will you be sharing the reward with your troops?”
“Legally, Marchhare, none of us can claim the reward. They are regular on duty military and may be decorated with a benefice but cannot gain any other reward. I am on detached duty, serving as an officer. The same is true of me. The reward is for you and your wife alone.”
I blinked. Little trading donkey dreams are made of gold like that. I turned to Nore, “Dear, these cannot get the reward that they have earned in protecting us. It is legal for us to give each of them up to ten golden bits in return for their service. Can we do that for them?”
Nore looked about at the armed and armored wing that had just saved us from a real disaster. She nodded slowly, “If their own land cannot reward them for such service,” she paused and looked compassionately at the still unconscious Ground Nest, “then we should do for them what we can.
“Only one stipulation shall I place upon the balance of the reward. Share it equally among the band. We have all suffered at the hooves of Ground Nest.”
Sunbreak pointed out to her troops, “We are going to get a unit citation for this capture. It comes with a benefice of five golden bits for each of you. From the generosity of these strangers to our land, we are getting ten more each. Any problems with that?”
One, who had been looking at me and my wonderful friends with disdain, thought for a moment and offered, “Sir, you seem to lead these foreigners. Upon thought, though often leaving out that you are a donkey, I have heard of your courage and medic skills from the South Peak Gryphon War. Is there something that we can do for you while we are here?”
Nore immediately replied, “Thank you, Sir. We do need some help. Ground nest ripped away most of the safety flags marking our route from here to the top. If you can position your, po … pegassi along the safe path that we show you, we should be able to reach the top of the notch before nightfall.”
Sunbreak replied, “Done. Vard, that was a fine suggestion, worthy of a note in the record. You shall have it. Detail four to provide emergency medical transport of the prisoner. The rest of you, serve these, um, horses as they request it. You are allowed to accept both rations and water from them if offered. Knowing Marchhare, it will be.”
Nore picked her way up the switchback traverse, positioning the troopers with care. Staring down the notch to the rocky floor of the canyon below, one commented, “Even with markers, bringing wagons like these up this grade? That would be a long tumble to a total wreck if you slipped any at all. Some pony could easily get killed. You ponies got guts, give you that.”
Nore politely said, “We are doing what we must to get to your wonderful land of Equestria. We are but plain horses from Gyptia. We have not your pony kinds and sorts. Pegassi can be wonderful, as you do prove.”
He swelled visibly under her acceptance of his praise and the gentle correction. The troopers did serve better than mere flags.
We all heard Maina scream. Malit frantically called, “You can’t stop it, Love! Let it go! I don’t want to lose you too!” The outboard wheel of their caravan found a soft spot and the wagon was starting to overbalance. Maina was heaving for all that she was worth, trying to save their new home on wheels. Malit would not abandon her mate. Both they and the caravan were being pulled over.
Four pegassi hit the side of the caravan, up high and were driving to stop it with all the power of their wings. They slowed the tipping, calling out, “We can’t hold it long! Save yourselves! Drop the hitch!”