“Are you sure you wish to accompany us, Emerald?” Sir Morn Dread asked again and he slid Clarent into its scabbard. “You do not have to.”
“She’s coming?” Sir Ganeighn asked bemusedly. “Are you sure you are up for it, my lady?”
“Look, I can handle myself, Sir Ganeighn,” Emerald almost yelled at him. “I’m coming. I can help.”
Ganeighn looked to Morn, but the blue haired knight gave him a confident nod and slipped a silver helmet on. “I trust her.”
“As you say, Sir Morn.” The blonde haired knight shot up both hands. “Then we had better go. The faster the better.”
Both knights got on the backs of their respective horses before Sir Morn helped Emerald up onto Windspeed. They steadily rode out of Canterlot castle, heading down the busy streets towards the front gates.
“Do the people know what happened?” Emerald was amazed to see the townsfolk going about their day like nothing had happened.
“Not all of them.” Sir Morn shook his head. “I’m afraid word gets around slowly. It was unfortunate that we could not stop the druids in time.”
“We’ll get them, Sir Morn.” Emerald placed a hand on his arm. “We’re not letting them get away with this.”
The knight breathed in deeply and smiled. “No we shall not, Emerald.”
The trio had only just arrived at the front gates when Emerald heard someone calling her name.
“Emerald? Where are you going?”
Emerald turned her head to see who had spoken, brushing a lock of her hair out of her eyes as she did so. Looking down, Emerald beheld an alabaster-skinned man in simple chainmail armor and a round helmet, carrying a halberd.
“Did… did you call for me?” she asked the man as Sir Morn stopped Windspeed by the gates.
The stranger squinted at Emerald, his eyes clearly going to her sparkling hair before averting his gaze, muttering, “No. Nevermind, I was mistaken.”
“Well… Alright.” Emerald wasn’t sure how to handle the situation. Thankfully, seeing as the conversation was over, Sir Morn set off again, taking Emerald away from the gates as his horse increased its speed. “Sir Morn, do you know who that was?”
Sir Morn shrugged, not an easy gesture to do when in full plate. “Twas but a simple guardsman, my lady. The king employs hundreds of them.”
“Oh. I see.” But puzzlement remained on her face.
“But as for how he knew your name…” Sir Morn said. “Perhaps he knows of you from our adventure in Trottingham. You made quite a name for yourself there.”
“Yeah…” Emerald pushed away the nagging voice in the back of her head, focusing once more on the mission at hand. “Yeah, that must be it.”
Emerald Edge held on tight to Sir Morn Dread as Windspeed continued to gallop through the forests of Canterlot, following tracks left behind by the druids, or at least, they hoped these were druid tracks.
A few kilometers back, the mass of footprints in the dirt ground had veered off track, heading off road to the nearby Shetlands Forest. From there, they had lost the druid’s direction, but luckily enough, someone else had seen them.
Posey sat on the back of Sir Ganeighn’s horse, her bow already in hand in case they spotted their targets. It took some convincing to get Sir Ganeighn to believe Posey was on their side, but in the end, the knight simply agreed, stating it was wiser to stop the druids first.
“That way.” Posey pointed through a shrub. “Gabriel’s following them now. This way.”
“Who is this Gabriel?” Ganeighn questioned as their horses headed deeper into the forest.
“Eagle,” Sir Morn explained. “A friend of hers.”
“Right. Eagle.”
“So, Sir Morn…” Emerald quickly changed the subject. “These druids. What do they do?”
“Practice dark arts, my lady. Magic that is forbidden by the Mages’ Tower. Once, they poisoned an entire town with the touch of their hands. Dangerous people, but we knights can handle them.”
“Don’t forget the human sacrifices,” Sir Ganeighn added grimly. “They think it gives them more power.”
Emerald shook her head in disgust. Back in Equestria, though they had dark magic, she’d never heard of anypony sacrificing their own to gain more power. That just sickened her to the core.
“They shouldn’t be going far,” Posey remarked as the horses leaped over a rock. “They have a big group. They’ll need to rest somewhere, unless their site is close.”
“Like… How big?” Emerald asked. Know your enemy was a maxim that every soldier in the Crystal Empire had drummed into them, and Emerald was no exception.
“A few men in robes, maybe eight or nine, the rest are likely mercenaries or barbarians, numbering at least ten. Then the hostages too. There’re four of them.”
“That’s… a lot of bad guys…” Emerald immediately figured a frontal assault wasn’t going to work. It was time she put her spy skills to work in this world. “Sir Morn, if I may. I think a sneak attack would work much better.”
Sir Morn seemed to pause at the thought. “I must admit, our strength does not lie in subtlety. We knights fight proudly, with honor.”
“A sneak attack?” Sir Ganeighn pushed up the visor of his helmet and frowned. “Most unorthodox.”
“But even knights like you cannot possibly take on so many enemies at once!” Emerald tried to reason with them. Charging straight into this wasn’t going to have a good outcome.
“Emerald’s right,” Posey offered. “Attacking head on is more of a risk, especially if these druids are dark magic users like you say.”
“Tis fine, my ladies,” Sir Morn reassured as he led Windspeed down a small slope. “We knights have dealt with druids before.”
“Indeed,” Sir Ganeighn said. “Troublesome lot.”
Emerald was going to argue more, but Posey interrupted her. “Then we should work on two fronts. Emerald and I can hide ourselves while you knights move to distract them.”
“Us, as distractions?” Sir Ganeighn said, his brow creasing. “What exactly are you planning, archer?”
“Showing them all our numbers at once is a bad tactic.” Posey went on to lecture the knight she was sitting with. “Sometimes, that’s what gets you knights killed. Getting a good idea of your enemy and planning a good sneak attack against them are less risky than just charging in there expecting your sword to do all the work for you.”
Ganeighn looked pensive. “You speak with some semblance of truth, archer. Very well.”
“Good choice, sir knight.” Then Posey suddenly took the reins from him and pulled his horse to a stop. The knight looked back with a frown. “Gabriel’s found them. They’re just ahead. I suggest we move on foot.” She was the first off the horse, gliding through the forest undergrowth, almost disappearing in the sea of green.
“That was… fast.” Sir Ganeighn blinked, trying to see if she was still there or not. “Well, let us go then. We don’t want to lose track of that archer.”
The three remaining members of the party wasted no time following Posey through the underbrush, the two knights struggling to keep their footfalls as silent as possible. Soon, they saw Posey, crouching half-concealed in a large bush, her bow out and ready.
Just under the hill they were standing on, a sizeable group of humans had based themselves next to a large circle of rocks in a small clearing, strangely devoid of trees. Emerald figured that spot must have been man-made.
“This is a good position,” Posey said without turning. “We can stay here without them seeing us. Sir Morn, Sir Ganeighn. It would be best if you approach from that side.” Posey pointed to the rocks. “That way, their backs will be to us.”
“You certainly give a lot of orders for a peasant,” Ganeighn sighed, but got up. “But for now, it will do.”
Sir Morn followed the other knight off, leaving Emerald alone with Posey as they spied on the pack. The spymaster counted nine humans in brown robes, which must be the druids. The rest of their group had what looked like thick cloth and metal plates all around their bodies, and most of them carried axes or clubs with a shield strapped to most of their arms. What caught her attention were the citizens of Canterlot, seated in the middle, their hands tied up behind their backs and their mouths gagged with cloth. One of them was a very familiar face to Emerald.
“They’ve got Jewel Pin!” she hissed to her friend. Posey waited for her to explain the statement. “She sells clothes in Canterlot. She’s a good friend. We need to save her. We need to save them all fast!”
“Alright, alright, calm down, Emerald.” Posey placed a hand on the spymaster’s shoulder. “Rushing in like the knights wanted isn’t going to do us any good. We wait and see. Then we strike.”
Emerald exhaled through her nose. Her friend was right; she had to be careful about this, otherwise they would just place Jewel Pin and the other villagers in greater danger. “All right, Posey. What’s the plan?”
“We wait on Sir Morn Dread once more.” The vigilante nocked an arrow in her shortbow and waited, lifting it slightly into the air.
And they didn’t have to wait long.
Most of the group below suddenly turned in the direction of the rocks as Sir Morn and Sir Ganeighn emerged from the shadows of the treeline.
“We have come to rescue our people!” Sir Morn declared loudly, drawing Clarent from its scabbard.
“Relinquish them to us at once and no blood will be spilt today,” Sir Ganeighn drew his own blade and pointed it at the hooded humans.
Immediately, the rest of the group turned to face the two knights, the mercenaries’ hands jumping to the hilts of their weapons. The druids took a step toward each other, drawing long, curved knives.
“Looks like negotiation’s not going to work with these guys…” Emerald gritted her teeth. “Why did I believe otherwise? Shall I move in now? I think I can get down there without being seen.”
“If you think you can get closer without drawing attention, then try,” Posey nodded and pulled back on her bowstring. “I’ll wait to see if I can take out the leader of this group.”
Emerald began her descend, grabbing the rocks below her feet before sliding herself off the hill, placing one foot on more rocks below.
“Why don’t you knights return to Canterlot?” she heard a voice say below. “Today, the Fir Laimhe Liath will have their sacrifices! You shall not take them from us. Begone or face our dark magic!”
Emerald got to a good angle to turn herself around, facing the group of druids. She stepped down to the next rock, careful not to place too much weight into her foot. She didn’t want her greaves clanging off the rocky surface.
“We fear neither blade nor spell,” Sir Ganeighn proclaimed. “This is your last chance; surrender and I swear you will be treated fairly. Resist, and we will use force.”
“Then let us begin,” the druid in front said. From what Emerald could tell, the man seemed to be aged as his back was bent; she also caught sight of a long faded grey beard hanging out of his hood. “You knights can add to our sacrifices.”
Three of the mercenaries stepped around the druids and raised their weapons. One had a two handed axe, while the other two had clubs and shields.
“Show them your strength!” the old druid yelled in a hoarse voice. “Let them feel our power!”
Emerald got down to the lowest rock as the first mercenary’s axe clashed with Sir Morn’s blade. The knight parried the axe aside and cut a long carve up its owner’s side, who fell to the ground. Emerald held her breath as the other two rushed him, lifting their wooden clubs way over their heads. Morn stepped forward and drove Clarent’s pommel into the first man’s face before spinning in a circle, cutting the second across his shield, sending him back a step. The first mercenary recovered just in time for Sir Ganeighn to step in and elegantly stab him in the gut with a two-handed thrust.
“Behold our magic!” one druid yelled and tossed a vial of yellow liquid at the remaining human.
The glass shattered against the man’s head and nothing seemed to happen. Emerald Edge was just about to ambush them from behind when the man up front began shouting out like a deranged donkey. Without warning, he attacked Sir Morn again. The knight cut down with his blade, which the mercenary blocked with his shield, but something had changed. Emerald watched on in horror as the mercenary pushed his shield out, sending Sir Morn stumbling back a few feet.
“What?” The knight didn’t believe it himself.
He didn’t have time to ask more questions as the man came again, smashing his club down against Morn’s blade. The sword met with the metal spikes of his enemy’s weapon, but the man pushed down, forcing Morn into a bad position, unable to push back. It looked as if his strength doubled from that vial the druid tossed at him.
“What sorcery is this?” Sir Ganeighn joined in, stabbing his sword at the mercenary, only for his weapon to be deflected by his shield.
“Dark magic!” the druid cackled. “An bua againn anseo!”
The mercenary roared again and pushed Morn lower, at the same time, bashing out with his shield to deter Ganeighn.
Emerald didn’t want to see anymore of this. She hopped down to the soft grass below and stealthily approached the closest unsuspecting mercenary; all their attention was taken by the struggling knights in front.
Unsheathing a single hidden blade, the spymaster drove it into the small of the man’s back, at the same time, reaching a hand forward, clamping it over his mouth to stifle his screams. His body soon went limp in her arms as she slowly brought him down to the grass without a sound.
One down…
Then she was on the second mercenary, a woman, doing exactly the same thing. The woman didn’t even struggle as her body fell beside her dead comrade.
Two…
Unfortunately, the next target turned around, shouting in alarm before brandishing an axe and shield. The rest of the mercenaries turned to face the spymaster, all of them pulling out their weapons.
“What?” One of the druids looked around his shoulder. “Deal with her.”
Just then, an arrow flew out from behind Emerald, lodging in the druid’s chest, sending him tumbling down.
“Careful, Archdruid Duchan!” one of the mercenaries warned.
“There are more of them!” the bearded one, Duchan, yelled as he and the remaining hooded figures picked up shields and faced them in Emerald’s direction. “Kill them all!”
Drawing her sword, Emerald parried up as the first mercenary swung his axe at her. She weaved left and jabbed her blade into his right shoulder, earning his grunt. Parrying the next strike, Emerald cut at him twice, drawing blood before blocking another attack. She raised the sword to finish him when a vial burst against the back of the mercenary’s bald head.
Uh oh.
The man’s face started contorting before he let out a scream of rage and charged at Emerald. She dodged behind him as his axe slashed into the spot she was just standing on, sending bits of soil up into the air.
Emerald took her chance and slashed at the mercenary’s back with her sword. Instead of falling, the man simply regained his posture and swung his axe in an arc, forcing Emerald to block down with her own blade. The impact rattled her arm bones and sent her a good distance away as she struggled to maintain her footing. She was so concentrated on keeping her feet secure on the ground that she almost missed a club falling towards her head.
Unable to react in any other way, Emerald dropped her sword and kicked back, flinging herself as far as she could to avoid the blow, which missed her by inches.
“You’re not getting away that easy,” the mercenary smirked and approached her, kicking her sword away from her reach.
He was about to attack again when an arrow sprouted out of his neck, just above the plate armor. It went right through and impaled itself in a tree beyond the clearing. His eyes rolled back as he fell to the dirt ground before Emerald, dead.
“Get that archer!” she heard a druid yell as more yellow vials were thrown against the remaining mercenaries.
All roaring at once, four mercenaries ran to the rocks where Emerald had come down from, while one stayed to face the spymaster. Emerald was unable to go for her sword, but she still had a surprise of her own. Running forward, she gracefully ducked under the mercenary’s club before activating both hidden blades. Seeing as these ‘intoxicated’ humans seemed immune to pain, Emerald looked to hit somewhere vital. Even if they couldn’t feel it, a vital spot would probably still kill them.
Leaping up, Emerald planted a kick to the man’s knee before driving both blades into the center of his chest multiple times. He still managed to stagger forward, swinging his club around aimlessly, but soon, even an enhancement like that couldn’t defeat death.
Stepping away before he could fall on her, Emerald turned to face the remaining mercenaries. Unfortunately, they had all vanished, meaning they were up there somewhere with Posey.
Just hold on, Posey. I’m coming!
Before she could even place a foot on the rocky ladder, the vigilante darted out from the brush above, hopping down the rocks quickly, almost colliding into Emerald.
Only when they were both down did the spymaster notice Posey was cradling her left arm. “Are you alright?”
Posey managed a smile, but winced. “I think it’s broken. One of them got me with a club, but I managed to take down two of them.”
Emerald retrieved her sword and held it out for the archer. “You know how to use this?”
“It’s better than nothing,” she said and took it in her good hand. “How are the knights faring?”
Sir Morn kicked down the now armless mercenary and plunged his sword straight through the man’s chest, finally ending their fight. “We are faring well, my lady!”
“Pitiful knights,” Duchan coughed at them, brandishing a brown bag. “The mercenaries would have been a better way to go.”
“Surrender, druids!” Morn barked at them. “This does not need to end in bloodshed.”
“Oh, but it has to,” one of the druids sneered, pulling one of the Canterlot citizens forward as she tried to scream through her mouth gag. “We need their blood.”
“What are you going to do with them!” Emerald shouted from behind, extending both her hidden blades by her sides. Barbaric roars took back her attention as two of the mercenaries from before returned, leaping off the hill in a single drop, handing in a crouch by the bottom. “Ready, Posey?”
“Lady Emerald!” Sir Morn called, but he was intercepted by the druid holding the citizen. “What are you doing?”
“Once we show you what we can do, you knights might want to rethink your answer…” Duchan bent back in laughter as he opened his brown sack. Dipping his gloved fingers in, they came out covered in a fine, red dust. Backing up against the hostage, he dragged the tip of his finger on her arm, and where the powder touched, angry red boils popped up. The hostage screamed into her gag, struggling against the ropes that bound her.
Emerald witnessed the powder’s effects as she stabbed a blade into the first mercenary’s side. Unfortunately, it barely had any effect as the man continued swinging his axe.
“Behold!” Duchan guffawed, rubbing a bit of the powder between two fingers.
“Stop that!” Ganeighn ordered, taking a step forward, but the knight made sure to remain out of throwing reach.
“Make me,” the druid sneered, before pulling the hostage’s gag down and throwing a handful of powder in her face.
The effect was immediate. The woman’s screams died down into a series of dry heaves as the powder ravaged her lungs, then she closed her eyes and slumped down, dead.
“You scoundrels!” Sir Morn grabbed tightly to his sword and charged at the druids. The knight thundered toward the group, his sword a silver blur as it claimed one of their number. Sir Morn spun, slashing at a second, and then Duchan’s fingers were closed around the knight’s throat, slipping in the gap between his helmet and his breastplate.
Emerald gasped as she stabbed one mercenary in the neck. “No!”
Sir Morn had grown quite still, frozen in place. One by one, his fingers loosened on Clarent’s grip, the sword falling to the forest floor.
Duchan sneered, his mouth opening to say something, then Sir Morn’s gauntleted fist came whistling through the air, smashing into Duchan’s jaw and sending him flying.
Posey stabbed the second mercenary in the chest as Emerald held the man down with both hidden blades in his boots, dropping the last mercenary. She faced Emerald and yelled, “Go. Help them.” Then she tossed the spymaster her sword back.
Emerald ran over as Sir Morn hauled Duchan to his feet. The other druids readied their daggers, but approached the knight warily.
Shock was written all over the druid’s face. “Impossible! You should be writhing at my feet!”
Sir Morn punched him again, this time knocking out a tooth. “Shut your mouth, fiend! Ah, good. Lady Emerald. Take that bag and throw it in the fire. I’ll tolerate no more of his witchcraft today.”
“Kill them!” the archdruid yelled, pulling out his own knife from his robes. Without looking, the knight reached down and grabbed the blade, twisting the knife from Duchan’s grip before punching him a third time.
“Stop! Stop! No more…” the old druid croaked and raised a feeble hand. Without warning, he lifted Sir Morn’s visor and jammed a gloved finger with leftover dust into Sir Morn’s eye, forcing him to let go with a startled gasp. “Nimhe, Galar! Smoke! Now!”
Two of the druids stepped forward and tossed down round spheres which sent up a cloud of black smoke on impact just as Emerald leaped at them with her sword.
She gagged and covered her nose, dropping to her knees as she fought to keep the smell from her nose and mouth. The stench was comparable to that one time she’d been forced to infiltrate a castle via the sewers; it had taken a week to wash out the smell.
By the time the smoke cleared, all of the druids had disappeared. Emerald heaved a sigh of relief: the battle was over, and the hostages safe. She stood up and moved to the hostages, cutting their bonds and removing their gags.
“Oh, thank you, Emerald!” Jewel Pin pulled the spymaster into yet another crushing hug. “I thought they were going to kill us! The way they killed Flower Wind… Dreadful!”
“They probably were,” Ganeighn grunted, putting his sword away once he was sure the coast was clear. “But they were no match for us, eh?” He clapped Posey on the back, earning a blush from the archer.
Sir Morn walked over to Emerald, his visor up and one hand clamped over his eye. He gave her a strained smile.
“Good work today, my lady,” he said, “We showed those druids a thing or two.”
“Sir Morn! Are you alright?” She removed his helmet to check on his eye and neck. There were dull red rashes around his neck, though nothing to the extent of the poor villager the druids had killed. “You’re burnt, but somehow… it didn’t affect you the same way. Does it hurt?”
“It most certainly does hurt, but I’m not going to let that get in the way. A Knight of the Round Table can take a bit of pain. Besides,” he added. “Mother will have us all right as rain, once we get back to Canterlot.”
“Yeah…” Emerald remembered the mage’s potions. They had worked wonders for her leg. “Can she fix a broken arm too? Posey won’t be able to get around on her own like that.”
“I’m sure mother can do something about her arm,” Sir Morn re-affixed his helmet. “Come on then; let us ride to Canterlot!”