//------------------------------// // Chapter 30: The Judgment of Grey Hoof // Story: Fools and Drunks // by Jordan179 //------------------------------// The crowd cheered. It was impossible for Glittershell to tell how much of the enthusiam was forced. She knew that Grey Hoof had charisma; she could feel its force herself; and the denizens of Sunney Towne were probably glad at the thought of meeting somepony new. She saw many eyes peering curiously at herself and Snips. "Hurrah!" shouted Sergeant Bravesword, beneath her. His voice sounded very different -- much healthier and clearer; easier to understand. Glittershell immediately saw why. The Pony carrying her seemed no longer a skeletal horror, made of bones half-sheathed in decaying green-and-black muscle and sinew. Instead, he was a big, beefy green-coated stallion with a well-trimmed blue mane; his features, as he turned his head back to examine her, were bluff and handsome. He smiled at her, as he observed her reaction to his apparent transformation. Glittershell inhaled sharply. As she did so, she noticed that even his scent had greatly changed. Instead of the loathsome stench of putrefaction, to which she had become long inured, she instead smelled the intriguing odor of a healthy well-exercised stallion in the prime of his life. This, coupled with his handsome, friendly features, and the intimate physical contact into which they were forced by her position atop his back, with her belly rubbing against his side, produced the usual unfortunate effect. She flushed in shame and looked at the ground. Stupid body! "Never you mind, girl," Sergeant Bravesword said to her in low but kindly tones. "You'd be surprised what one sees and the folk one meets in the Rangers. Not your fault; no offense meant nor taken." She smiled in gratitude at her escort. But now, Gladstone was speaking, and Bravesword turned to regard his leader. "Father, I do return successful and victorious!" Gladstone proudly proclaimed. "I return bringing two Ponies whose lives will wax our own power, and whose spiritis will serve our fair settlement!" "Hurrah!" shouted Sergeant Bravesword, and the other Skeletal Guards, whom Glittershell noticed now no longer looked particularly skeletal. In fact, to all her senses, she and Snips were surrounded by perfectly normal living Ponies. "We're under orders to cheer him," Bravesword whispered to her. "Thinks he's Commander Hurricane the Great, that one does." "You don't like him either," Glittershell observed. The Sergeant merely grunted by way of reply. "Thou hast done a good deed for all Sunney Towne," pronounced Grey Hoof, his voice booming through the square, "and I am well pleased with thee!" "Hurrah!" shouted Bravesword and his squad, obedient to his orders. "Thankee," said Gladstone. "I am proud to serve thee, my dear beloved father, and through thee all of Sunney Towne. I ask but one boon, that I might be made even more fit to serve in the future!" "Here it comes," sighed Bravesword. "You're a good girl, and I'm sorry for what's going to happen. You don't deserve this." "Name the boon!" replied Grey Hoof. "I ask that the two new captives, taken by mine own hooves, come into mine own service!" said Gladstone. Glittershell felt herself grow cold. She had expected this, of course, but with the joy of discovering that she was not forever crippled, and that at least one of Gladstone's fearsome thralls was actually a rather likeable stallion, she had emotionally quite lost track of the most unpleasant implications of her captivity. "Father!" cried Ruby. She tried to float up onto the table, but the glowing red chains dragged her back down. "No! In the name of equine decency, we must not!" Grey Hoof frowned. "I do not take well to being commanded, at mine own feasting-table, what Imust and must not do. Still less do I like to be so ordered about by mine own rebellious child!" He reached out, took an end of the chain. "Thou didst directly obstruct our capture of these two interlopers, when mine other and more loyal children did do their duty and aid our village in this task." He yanked on the chain, and Ruby cried out, struggling to remain standing. "That is why I have chained thee, my beloved but rebellious daughter, to teach thee respect for thine own father!" And again, he shook the chains, and Ruby with them. Ruby made a noise somewhere in between a whimper and a snarl. "Thou beast!" scolded Mitta. "How dare thee so abuse our daughter, before the multitude!" "She did betray us all!" protested Grey Hoof. "I merely do discipline ..." "Discipline?" scoffed Mitta. "Didst thine own mother shackle thee in chains when thou wert a naughty colt? I do not remember it thus!" Grey Hoof shot Gladstone an exasperated look. See what I must put up with? it conveyed, silently but no less effectively for his lack of words. "Father," interjected Starlet, stepping forth from the crowd, moving at a walk dignified, yet with a certain distinctively seductive cast to the motion of her hips. Gladstone shot her a venomous look, which Starlet most daintily ignored. "Yes, my daughter?" asked Grey Hoof, his ears perking up to attention. "Dear Father," Starlet said in a silky-smooth voice, "I would never dream of rebelling against thee, or in any way challenging thine authority. Thou'rt our leader, the Headpony of Sunney Towne, as thou hast been now these past thousand and more years. Beyond that, thour't mine own dear-beloved father, the only blood parent I still have, since the mother thou didst love well, and of whom I was bereft when but a helpless foal, did perish. 'Twas thou, beloved father, who wert so often there for me." Grey Hoof nodded, his expression softening affectionately as he regarded his beautiful elder daughter. "Thou wert such a lovely little chit," he said. "I remember the happy hours we all spent by the fireside." "Indeed," Starlet smiled winningly. "Now I am grown, and no longer mortal, yet still do we cherish each other." "Yes," agreed Grey Hoof, smiling back at her. "And I and mine own followers did their part in capturing the two interlopers," Starlet pointed out, "and so did my dear Roneo, who has always treated thee as a second father. Our minions did take hurt in this service, and 'twas for that we first exhausted them that Gladstone's guards might take them with such ease. Both the intruders did fight, and well." Starlet looked at Roneo, who nodded by way of confirmation. "So I do say to thee, dear Father, that 'twould be beneath the high standard of justice to which thou dost adhere if thou were but to give the two captives to our esteemed brother Gladstone, for that he did tackle the two after Roneo and I did first trip them. I also do submit that Gladstone -- for all that I do respect and love him -- is sometimes harsh in his treatment of his thralls. He is especial harsh in his treatment of mares, and one of the captives is a maiden whom I would most gladly welcome into mine own sevice. Aye, and I would use her gentle, rather than cruel, that we might all enjoy many years and decades of her true friendship." Roneo stepped forth, a bit hesitant, looking between Grey Hoof and Starlet by way of encouragement. What he saw must have heartened him, for he spoke: "Aye, father of my betrothed, and father of mine own heart. I speak for the short stallion. He fought well; he is hardy and strong, and would do well in mine own following. He is best friend to the tall maiden, and he would be twisted by hate were she abused. Prithee, please, give Starlet the maiden, and the stallion give to anypony but Gladstone, who would abuse him for no better cause than to give pain to the maiden." All during these little speeches, Glittershell was herself naturally much concerned, both because it was her own disposition being discussed, and because her inner mare-hood was being casually and repeatedly referenced right in front of Snips, from whom she had thus far successfully kept this secret. Glittershell greatly feared that, after the events of this day, keeping this secret would no longer be possible. An outside observer might have been surprised at the weighting of Glittershell's worries, which were focused more on her fear of exposure to Snips than on that of being murdered, enslaved and repeatedly raped by a sadistic madpony. The observer might well have questioned Glittershell's sense of priorities. Such an observer would have missed an important fact. We fear what we are taught to fear. Glittershell, child of a gentle age and kindly civilization, had by her own folly skirted close to death more than once in her young life, but never before now by deliberate murder at the hooves of anything that looked and spoke like a Pony. Still less had she been at any real risk of rape or slavery. These latter fates were quite beyond her emotional comprehension. On the other hoof, Glittershell had spent the last few years increasingly aware that she was a mare within, even as her body inconsiderately developed toward full-blown stallionhood. She carefully kept her secret from all but a few; and lived daily with the fear that this might become generally known. So it was that Glittershell thought: Gee, they keep calling me a 'maiden,' and Roneo just called me 'Glittershell' right in front of Snips. If they keep doing that, there's no way Snips won't get that I'm really a mare. Then I'd be real embarrassed explaining to Snips why in all this time I haven't told him! I hope he doesn't remember that kiss ... As she faced what was, up until that moment, the most deadly crisis of her sixteen years of life, such were the thoughts of Glittershell. "So," said Grey Hoof, looking from one Wraith to the next, "all three of ye do claim Snips and Glittershell, and do make unto me different arguments as to why I should award them to one or the other." He looked at Three Leaf. "And what would be thy counsel?" "Well," the healer began. "My son Gladstone argues that they should be his, for he did directly catch them; thy daughter Starlet and her betrothed Roneo that they should not be Gladstone's, for that he is a cruel master; and in any case did but reap the crop which Starlet and Roneo sowed and tended." Her tone was cool and dispassionate, as if she discussed abstract legal issues, affecting entirely other Ponies than her own family and friends. "And what wouldst thou choose?" asked Grey Hoof. "Did I have the decision?" mused Three Leaf, stroking her chin with her hoof, and briefly drawing her hair across her face. She shook her mane back out. "Glittershell I would give to anypony but Gladstone, for 'tis plain he would abuse her --" "Mother!" cried Gladstone in outrage. "Hush," said Three Leaf. "'Tis true; we all do ken it. Thou'rt cruel to mares. 'Twas why thou wert unmatched in thy breathing days. I did hope that thou wouldst meet a mare who could stand up to thee and improve thy character, but ..." she shrugged helplessly. "Glittershell would serve best Starlet; and Snips Roneo." "What if I took them?" asked Grey Hoof. "Thou mightest well do so," said Three Leaf. "But thou already hast so many thralls, and other cares as headpony -- should we add to thy burden?" "Hmm," said Grey Hoof. "And wouldst thou care to take them, my love?" he asked Three Leaf. "O no," replied Three Leaf. "I have come to ken that while I am a very good healer, I am but an indifferent leader. Mine own talents lie in study and practice, rather than exhortation. I am glad to have no more thralls." "I see," said Grey Hoof. He scowled at Ruby and Mitta. "I doubt either of ye will tell me aught I would care to hear." "What thou doest here is but evil multiplied," Mitta said. "Thou cannot by so doing make our unlives better, or aim us at better ends. All thou doest is to spread suffering amongst those still breathing." Grey Hoof glared at Ruby. "And thee?" he asked. "Mother speaks true," replied Ruby. "Murder and slavery be wrong, Father, and what Gladstone does be still fouler. 'Tis not the way of Equestrian Ponies -- 'twas not our way, either, afore the curse fell upon us! O, Father, 'twas not your way, afore thou wert Cursed." She turned her golden eyes upon him, gazing pleadingly. "Father, renounce these evils! Thou wert no brigand, no villain. Thou wert a hero! Thou wert mine own hero! I loved thee -- I love thee still!" She was now sobbing. "Be again the hero thou once wert! Break free of these misdeeds! Be our hero again!" "Ruby ..." Grey Hoof said hoarsely. He looked into her eyes. There was something different about him, something Glittershell could not quite grasp, but for a moment he seemed less dark, less frightening. "I love -- thou canst not ken -- things have --" Then he shivered. It was a sudden motion, so sudden that Glittershell almost missed it. And she saw something, impossible and almost invisible, as if a pale black flame reignited around him, as if from a pilot light. Grey Hoof straightened. His face, which had for a moment seemed almost to soften, was as hard as cold as ice in the dead of winter. He sneered with contempt at his once-beloved ex-wife and youngest daughter. "Thou speakest to me of right and wrong, villains and heroes, as if I were but a foal, hearkening eagerly to a hearthside tale. Hah!" he laughed bitterly. "There be no right, no wrong! No villains, and of a certain no heroes!" Mitta shrank back from him. Even Three Leaf subtly recoiled. Only Ruby did not flinch. "Father," she said. "Thou'rt not thyself." "I am better than he ever was!" Grey Hoof roared. "He -- I was weak, soft, sentimental -- a victim. I did not know how things really were. Now, I know. "There is but weakness, and strength. Failure, and success. Slaves -- and masters. That is how things are. "The only real question is whom is to be the master. In this case," he said, casting his gaze over Snips and Glittershell -- the latter of whom shrank in terror before that burning gaze, which despite its aspect of life somehow well conveyed the true horror lurking beneath -- "whom is to be the master of these two slaves, soon to be our thralls." Grey Hoof gazed at Gladstone. "Thou hast indeed taken them by thy might," said the Master-Wraith, "but Starlet and Roneo are quite right in that they first weakened the two interlopers; and all are right that thou dost ill-use thy mare-thralls. That last is weakness. So Glittershell shall not be thy thrall." Gladstone winced, both resentment and fear obvious in his eyes. He opened his mouth a moment, as if to protest, but then thought better of it. "As for thee, Starlet, thou might manage the maiden better, but I fear thou might be too kind to her. Softness does not well-maintain our mastery. So thou shalt not have her into thy keeping. Starlet blinked in disappointment. "Roneo, thou'rt a skilled master, so I shall give thee the stallion as thy thrall. Use him wisely and well, as is thy wont. But mind that he will not become thy friend." Roneo nodded. "As for the maiden," said Grey Hoof, "'tis clear to whom she must fall. I do decree that --" Exactly what he would have decreed is debatable, for at that moment, in a flash of green light and smoke, appeared three living beings at the still-open gates of Sunney Towne, rearing up with weapons in their forehooves. The largest one was no Pony at all, but rather a black-and-white striped equine, holding a strangely-carved and twisted wooden staff. The staff hummed with blue radiance, and as she swung it to the ready, the very reality around her seemed to temporarily ripple -- Glittershell saw the pallisade shift behind her to blackened, rotted ruins, and through even that to slight mounds of earth, which might have been walls many centuries past. She was black and white, and entirely-welcome to Glittershell's sight. She had known her for years. She was Zecora, the Zebra whom she knew to dwell near here in the forest. Belatedly, it occurred to her that those had been her charms Snips had moved last night, when they had first made the mistake of walking onto the path toward Sunney Towne. She wondered briefly if moving the charms had somehow gotten them in trouble. Beside Zecora, clutching a bottle of glowing blue potion, others strapped at her waist in a bandolier, was a yellow filly with a red mane and a big pink bow in it. Apple Bloom, their friend, who was Zecora's part-time apprentice. And on the other side of Zecora, the white coat and yellowish-white mane of Ermine Lightning, whose face was screwed up in determination and whose hunting knife was drawn. Glittershell had absolutely no idea why she was here, instead of back with her family of moonshiners. "In the name of Harmony / Snips and Snails you shall set free," declared Zecora. At long last, help had arrived.