//------------------------------// // IX. // Story: Steel Blade! // by Alsvid //------------------------------// The next day, the Professor woke up to the sound of hammers banging away, saws tearing at wood, the squeaking and screeching of heavy wooden cranes hoisting away, and stone grinding against stone. The gold-coated, silver-maned Pegasus mare turned aside her lovely white silken sheets and rose from her bed, leaving the prostrate form of Sir Michael, who was snoring away calmly as if nothing out of the ordinary. Bloody old campaigner…he’s used to all this commotion early in the morning, she thought to herself, half-irritably, half-fondly. She walked over to her armoire, opened it, selected a comfy purple robe, and flung it about her shoulders. There was a timid knock on her door. The Professor walked over to the door, unlatching it, and found Cheese Sandwich standing there obsequiously, the brown-maned, cheesy-yellow stallion resplendent in his black butler’s uniform, a towel over his right arm. “A very good morning to you, Madame,” he said, soothingly. “Miss Pie is overlooking the kitchen maids preparing breakfast for you and your honored guests today. I have taken the liberty of drawing your bath for you; would Madame like a fresh of tea to clear her head?” An exceptionally loud crash of stone and stone echoed from without; Cheese Sandwich manfully pretended not to hear, in spite of the quivering of his long, equine ears. The Professor kneaded her brows with her knuckles. “That would do splendidly, Cheese. Jolly good show on the bath, as well. If I’m not going to work today, I may as well treat myself. Besides, I’d like to look my best before we depart for the Royal Palace.” “The Palace, Madame?” Cheese inquired, with restrained curiosity, politely allowing a minute lift of his brows. “Yes, the Princess Celestia has convened her Council and demands my presence.” The Professor was careful to leave out exact details, instead remarking in a forced airy and vague manner, “Something about students disappearing around the University.” “Ah, yes, quite…you know, Madame, the papers have been talking about young teenaged mares being kidnapped elsewhere in Equestria.” “Before, or after the recent things that happened?” the Professor asked. “Oh, quite a while before the disappearances at school, Madame,” Cheese Sandwich insisted. “Might I be permitted a question, Madame?” “Fire away, Cheese,” the Professor said, brushing a hand through her disheveled silver mane absently. There was another clash and a clang of stone on stone outside, and the shouts and whoops of ponies outside. “Can those bloody Auxiliari Architecti do anything quietly?” she complained. “It’s been nothing but crashes and booms and bangs and clattering noises since sunup! It’s enough to drive one distracted!” “Indeed, Madame,” Cheese Sandwich said, nodding fervently. “Miss Pinkamena does not mind, of course. I’m surprised she isn’t out there causing a racket with the rest of the Auxiliari.” “It’s just as well. Party ponies aren’t builder ponies for a reason. I’m already harboring my doubts about there being a castle around our house; I don’t need the thing falling down around my ears because Pinkie Pie decided she’d like to try her hoof at architecture. What were you about to ask me, though? I’m sure you didn’t come here to chit-chat with me about the noise outside,” said the Professor. “Well, you see, Madame, there’s been reports in the “Canterlot Chronicle”-“ The Professor made a face. “Terrible newspaper, Cheese. I never read it. I much prefer “The Crusader”.” “Be that as it may, Madame, the “Canterlot Chronicle” recently began to run stories about these cases of kidnapped young mares, about a month or so prior to the incident at the Oxbridge University, and I thought – in fact, a few of us had thought - that the prior kidnappings are related to the cases at your University.” “But that’s very important, Cheese Sandwich!” the Professor cried. “Why weren’t these things being looked into? It’s a very serious oversight! If the matter had been explored to its fullest extent the culprits might have been caught before they could filthy up the hallowed grounds of my beautiful Oxbridge!” Cheese Sandwich was looking at her very oddly, and did not say anything. “What’s the matter, Cheese Sandwich?” the Professor said, testily. “Ah. Er. Beg your pardon, Madame, but the reports don’t say whether there was one culprit, or many culprits. Yet, you said culprits, which would suggest you know something the newspapers do not-“ “Just a guess,” the Professor assured him hastily. Cheese Sandwich nodded slowly. “Indeed, Madame. I believe the disappearances went unnoticed because they were mainly poor, orphaned fillies who would not be noticed if they went astray, and were chalked up as mere death by misadventure, as per the usual when one dwells in in poverty-stricken, rotten boroughs…” “Well, well, Cheese, it would seem we’re all paying the price for our inattention,” the Professor said, bitterly, feeling very tired even though she’d just risen from her bed. “I shall mention this detail at Council today.” Leo, the youthful, masculine Human mercenary commander under Professor Deborah's contract, was crossing the courtyard, having helped himself to one of Sir Michael’s fine cigars, and was enjoying its crisp, aromatic smoke while watching the Auxiliari Architecti ponies from Sir Michael’s van sinking the walls and raising the gates of the fortifications surrounding Professor Deborah’s house; the ruins of the demolished houses surrounding it lay looking rather forlorn. His mercenary soldiers were busy training in the early morning air, the smacks of wooden swords striking practice armor resounding throughout their camp. One of the young, fresh mercenary recruits, a raven-maned Unicorn mare named Melara Nightfall, with a white coat, was knocked to the ground by a larger Earth pony mare, known as Remy Braun, with a short-cropped brown mane and a light tan coat. Another recruit, a skinny Unicorn colt called Jean Silverhoof, with a silver mane and a blue coat, was watching them; he hooted in amusement as the Unicorn mare collapsed. Leo strode over to her and pulled her to her hooves roughly. “Get up. We stand tall on the field of battle – all of us.” “They hurt me,” the Unicorn mare, Melara complained, sucking a bruised knuckle. “That they did, ” Leo said, sternly. “And that’s nothing compared to what the enemy would do. Now come, all of you. Attack me with those sticks.” “That’s not fair, Commander,” the little Unicorn colt complained. “Three against one? It’s suicide, even for an experienced soldier.” “Listen here, muchacho amigo, you sound like you’re Princess Twilight Sparkle herself, talking of odds,” Leo ribbed him, amusedly. “I’m glad to know my successor’s already been chosen and everything. I can retire happily knowing you’ll lead the company to a rich, prosperous future, being as you’re a genius military leader without having even fought in one battle. I won’t even bother turning up at our next sortie; you can tell everyone what to do instead, alright?” He fell into a fighting stance, one foot before the other, legs well apart, his torso turned side-on to the three to provide less of a target for them to hit, his red-gauntleted hand raised before him, fingers formed into a flat knife-edge, his other hand protecting his body. “Aren’t you going to get a practice sword?” Melara insisted. “You must be joking,” Leo said, raising his brows incredulously. Remy, the bold Earth pony mare, was the first to charge; she threw herself at Leo with a furious cry, Melara and Jean at her hooves. Leo effortlessly side-stepped her wooden sword; to him, she seemed to be moving slowly, like someone bound in jelly, allowing him to take in every detail of her face, twisted in a battle shout, and the tense coil of her limbs, the pounding of her hooves on the soil. Then he snatched her leather jacket and threw her to the ground. She impacted the firm topsoil with her full weight, an audible ‘thud’ accompanying her; she gasped and went limp, her eyes rolling skyward, her sword falling from her limp hands. She shook her head and found Leo kneeling on her chest, his gauntleted fist minutes from her face. “You’re dead now, girl, and it’s two on one now,” Leo informed Remy. Then he leapt to his feet, and grasped Jean’s sword; the Unicorn colt gasped as Leo tore it away and then grasped his neck. “I’ve just torn your throat out, kid. Now it’s just one on one.” “No fair! I didn’t even see it!” Jean wailed. “Too bad, dead boy. That’s how death comes at you sometimes – quickly, before you even know you’ve stopped breathing. I’ve seen it a lot.” Leo parried Melara’s blow with his armored forearm as Melara chopped at him; he noticed that she closed her eyes in fear as she did so. This one will need more training or she’ll be meat, he realized. I should put her to cook food or work the papers for the company – she’s certainly no warrior. He dropped his arm and raised his other arm as he twisted his hips and flung his right leg up into a brutal roundhouse kick, slamming the blade-edge of his booted foot into Melara’s belly; she cried out in pain and fell on her back. Instantly Leo was above her, with two fingers of his armored gauntlet aimed at her eyeballs. “Now all of you are dead,” he pronounced grimly. “Fight several others at once, you three – it’ll make good practice for reality when you can’t tell the enemy to please wait a minute while you kill their friends before they attack you.” He left the three new recruits, relighting his cigar. Damn little idiots distracted me so much it went out, he thought to himself, irritably. “Boy!” a sharp, commanding female voice sounded, behind him. Leo pretended to ignore this. “Commander,” the voice persisted. “Leo.” Leo slowly turned around and shoved his hands in his jeans pockets, glaring at the mare addressing him; it was Knight-Captain Gloria Victrix, the leader of Sir Michael’s Pegasus Triarii, the heavily armored Pegasus mares who bore spears like small telephone poles and shields like castle walls. The armored, wide-shouldered, blonde-maned, grey-coated, scar-faced Pegasus mare was flanked by two of her Triarii Pegasus mares, equally as tall, muscular, and clad in thick plate armor, their hooves crashing on the ground like sledgehammers at each step. Leo barely seemed fazed by this. “Yes, Knight-Captain, how can I help you?” Knight-Captain Gloria Victrix seemed amused. “You’ve had your fun beating up little slips of girls. Now give me a taste of your skill.” “Easy there, girl, do you desire me that much?” Leo mocked her, folding his arms behind his head. “Oh, I’m sure your flesh is hardy enough to withstand a kiss or two from the butt-end of my spear, Commander,” Captain Gloria said, smugly. She tossed her heavy spear skyward and snatched it out of the air as though it weighed nothing. “Or are you afraid?”