//------------------------------// // Chapter 8: Pieces on the Board // Story: Evening Star Also Rises // by Starscribe //------------------------------// But Nightbreeze had been right about the ritual, just as she had been right about a great deal. There was nothing dramatic, at least not to her. Hayden listened to the ponies as Princess Celestia and Luna formally accepted oaths of loyalty from each of the house lords—which thankfully didn’t include her. She was here as a member of Luna’s house, so all she had to do was sit and listen as quietly as possible. She got many stares, whispers, ponies pointing at her, but that was all. When the ceremony was over, a soldier announced that those invited to the banquet could wait a few minutes while the common visitors were ushered from the hall. They dissolved immediately into conversation, at least on the other side. Luna’s delegation didn’t break into eager talk with each other so much as a few of the generals waved a hoof or a wing towards each other in faint salutes. Those close by whispered so quietly that not even Hayden could hear them, despite her apparently enhanced hearing. One of the generals in the row above rose from her seat, hopping forward onto the lower level so that she was beside Hayden. “Hello, stranger. We’ve never had the pleasure of a civilian on the stands.” The mare was a unicorn, with a blood-red coat and pink mane cut short in the military style. She wore the same uniform as the other ponies all around them, though she was also the first mare Hayden had seen among them. But if Luna can be in charge, then there are other mares too, right? Maybe there just aren’t as many. “Civilian life is great,” Hayden said, rising to her hooves so she could take the offered hoof from a respectful standing position. “Mostly being able to get enough sleep. That’s the best part.” The mare laughed. “That isn’t quite what I expected from you, Lady…” Respectful or not, the pony didn’t hide her inquiring eyes on Hayden’s wings. “Evening Star,” Hayden answered. “And you are?” “General Sunspot,” she said. “Where did you serve, Evening Star? It must be somewhere far away, that I haven’t heard of your, uh… tribe.” “Quite far,” Hayden agreed. “Afghanistan. But that was over a decade ago. I… try to think about it as little as possible, to be honest.” Sunspot mouthed the word Afghanistan, trying, and failing to say it correctly. Then she shrugged. “Must have been a secretive campaign. Everypony on this stand is curious about you. But I’m the only one brave enough to ask. What tribe are you from?” What tribe? Hayden’s mind spun, momentarily confused. The tribes were the three types of ponies she read about, divided into their semi-formal boundaries by ability. Only the Alicorns violated that rule, generally, by combining all three. But Hayden wasn’t an Alicorn—she didn’t have super strength, and she couldn’t do magic. So, she didn’t fit into any of the neat boxes in the pony worldview. “I’m, uh…” She flexed her wings. She had half a mind to say “Satanic.” But that didn’t seem like a terribly good idea. “Thestral,” she said instead. Granted, she wasn’t skeletal, or invisible to ponies who hadn’t seen death. But it was better than her first idea. “I’m a thestral.” “Right,” Sunspot said. “Well Evening Star, it’s good to have you here. The commander-in-chief has been lacking ponies to represent the army’s interests in court. Sending soldiers to represent us just… hasn’t worked.” Hayden realized now what this pony was doing, and she didn’t care. “That’s part of why I’m here,” she said. “You ponies deserve Equestria’s best out there. And I suspect you haven’t been getting it.” Sunspot laughed again, this time loud enough that the other soldiers on the stand noticed. “I think I’m going to like you, Lady Evening Star. Our princess is as wise as ever.” “I’m glad you approve,” said a voice from behind them, so suddenly that Hayden jumped. She seemed to hang in the air for longer than she should have, before drifting slowly back, touching down facing the other way. Princess Luna was behind them, dressed in her formal regalia. Hayden realized then she hadn’t noticed the stands opening. Everyone was probably at the feast already. General Sunspot didn’t bow to the princess, or stiffen up like a recruit. She did salute, her gesture crisp and formal. “Sir.” “We ought to get going,” Luna said. “Introduce my lady-in-waiting to everypony, alright General Sunspot?” “Yes, sir,” Sunspot replied. Luna nodded, then vanished with a faint flash of white light, leaving them alone on the stands. “Come on then, Lady Evening Star. Thestrals like feasts, don’t they?” She hesitated. “That depends on how many people are hungry while we’re eating.” Sunspot had no answer to that, just gestured for her to lead the way down the steps. Hayden did so, reaching out more than once for support. She may’ve fallen, if it wasn’t for the general’s magic. It was much harder to walk when she couldn’t see her own steps through all the fabric. Eating with the military was much as Hayden remembered it. Or would’ve been, if she’d been a visiting civilian politician eating with the officers. At first the ponies were strictly formal with her, barely speaking to each other at all, expressions stern and barely even seeming to notice they were at a feast. Then General Sunspot explained a little of what Hayden had let her guess, and everything changed. Hayden learned each of their names, matching them to alien faces. She learned what part of the Equestrian military each one oversaw, and what they wanted from the court. In short, Hayden spoke to them as she imagined Princess Luna might’ve done, if the princess hadn’t been eating at the head of the room at Celestia’s gigantic table. Hayden learned what she had already suspected: Equestria had recently suffered a devastating war. Some of the details were a little hazy, since a few of the ponies spoke of events over a century ago as personal memory. But she couldn’t get clarification without giving away just how much of a sham she really was, so she just nodded as though what they told her made perfect sense. “And now the rest of the world is looking at Equestria like a ripe field of wheat,” said a male general with one eye clouded with blindness and wings that looked too frail to fly. “Every month we get more scavengers along the eastern border, testing our defenses. The griffons always deny it… king insists they’re outlaws with no connection to the throne, but…” He shook his head. “They’re predators. You know how they think.” She nodded as though she did. “Our troops on the south are equal to these ‘barbarians’?” Bitter laughter from around her. “Hardly. After Discord, nobody wants to join the army. All the best unicorns want to go into civil service. The strongest pegasus ponies would rather make rain for farmers’ bribes than die fighting barbarians in the sky.” “That sounds like a complex problem,” Hayden said, meeting the pony’s eyes. That was one of the things she’d practiced with Nightbreeze, and one of the things the generals seemed to admire. If anything, she had the advantage, since even they had trouble meeting her gaze for long. “Princess Luna doesn’t control what careers ponies choose. What could she do to bring in better recruits?” Sunspot shrugged. “Before Discord, ponies with family debts or time in prison could serve a tour instead. That didn’t make sense against Discord, for obvious reasons…” Hayden nodded again, the same practiced lie she’d used a dozen times. She didn’t have a clue what a Discord was, but it wasn’t like she couldn’t pretend. Apparently, it’s whatever they call the time when lots of ponies died. She didn’t know more than that, and maybe she didn’t have to. “But he’s gone now! Dead, thanks to our noble princesses. There are plenty of ponies rotting away in prison who would kill for a chance to make things right. Exchanging debt for service would be no great burden to the crown’s coffers, either. Since they’re exchanging their future pay, it isn’t as though the princesses would have to pay all their debts for nothing.” “And for most of them…” added Sunspot. “We’re talking negligible amounts. I’ve met soldiers who signed up for ten years to pay a hundred bits.” Again, Hayden nodded. “Does the princess know about this?” They all hesitated, glancing between each other at the table. There was a long silence before the old, half-blind general answered her. “Princess Luna has enough on her plate, Lady Evening Star. It’s all she can do to secure the bits to keep our soldiers armed and armored. All she can do to keep the grain and wages flowing back. Time she took for subtler direction would be time she couldn’t spend keeping the troops fighting. It’s… not worth the time to distract her.” “We aren’t unhappy with princess Luna’s work,” Sunspot added. “We understand she cares as much for this…” She gestured around the room, at the dozens of tables with laughing and joking nobles. At the floor further away, where ponies played music and others danced. “As much as we do. But she endures it for the good of Equestria. That’s why we’re thrilled to see her taking the chance to… delegate. To you.” Hayden forced herself to smile. “I’m not going to lie to you people and pretend I know what I’m doing. I’ve never been near a court before. But I can promise to try. Give me time to learn, and I’ll be your voice. Better than you’ve had, anyway. I’d have to be pretty bad to be worse than nothing.” Someone moved from behind them—dozens of ponies were passing by all around them, so it wasn’t something Hayden had noticed. But this servant cleared his throat again, and even the generals were looking at him now. Not one of the castle servants, but wearing light with gold filigree. He looked better groomed than many guests at the feast—better than anyone at the table for sure. He also had a pony who was clearly a guard following along beside him, judging by his thick build and angry expression. “Excuse me,” the servant said, as though he thought those at the table ought to be asking him for it, and they just hadn’t realized it yet. “Your presence is required elsewhere, Lady Evening Star. Lord Glow has instructed me to bring you to his private table. He wishes to solicit you for a dance.” Hayden didn’t rise from her seat, though from the insistent gestures she could tell that was what the butler expected. That might be what he expected, but it wasn’t what he would get. “Inform Glow I will have to decline his invitation,” she said. “I am flattered by his interest, but I am still weak from travel. Inform him I will be happy to accept on a later occasion.” Hayden recited with perfect poise—and she ought to. She had memorized that precise phrase, had to repeat it dozens of times before Nightbreeze was satisfied. The servant—who still hadn’t introduced himself—looked as though Hayden had spat on his face. “I’m afraid that won’t be acceptable. Lord Glow did not make a request.” Hayden smiled. She didn’t know this pony—contemporary politics hadn’t come up yet in any of her studies. But she could guess the type. If even his servants acted this way, the stallion himself must be worse. “She gave you her answer,” General Sunspot said from beside her, rising gently to her feet. She stepped just one hoof closer to Hayden’s chair, between her and the guard. The earth pony looked over twice her weight, maybe more, but Hayden could detect no emotion from her but contempt. “I did,” Hayden said, unmoved. “Convey my regrets to Lord Glow. I look forward to accepting on a future occasion.” The servant made a sound halfway between a cough and a snort, and looked almost like he might reach up and try to drag her off like a child. Then he stormed off, hooves clopping loudly as he went.” Sunspot laughed loudly as soon as the servant and his single guard were out of earshot, with several of the others joining in. Hayden felt the soldier on her other side knock her jovially on the shoulder with a hoof. “I’d like to see any of Celestia’s mares refuse a summons with Lord Glow. Yet Luna’s lady-in-waiting does it on her first day!” “I did mean what I said,” Hayden croaked, blushing. “Also, I don’t know how to dance. Well… not what they’re doing.” She glanced at the floor, where ponies moved in practiced, boring-looking processions. It was even duller than anything she remembered from Earth. An impressive achievement. “Don’t take political advice from us,” Sunspot added, though she sounded as amused as the others. “If we knew how to move through the nobility, we wouldn’t need your help in the first place.” Hayden nodded, and opened her mouth to reply, but hesitated. Everyone was staring over her shoulder again. There were angrier hooffalls, the same ones she’d just heard leave. She reluctantly looked up. “Forgive me,” the butler croaked, as though Hayden were ripping out his teeth. “Lord Golden Glow requests you join him for dessert at his table.” You don’t have to talk to anyone, Nightbreeze had said. Don’t talk to anypony. Just make that the rule. You don’t know what they know yet. They’ll ask questions with answers you don’t know. You only get one chance for a first impression. But what kind of first impression would she be making to refuse a pony this important? Hayden rose to her hooves, bowing slightly to the generals. “Thank you all for your company,” she said, turning away from the table. “I would be delighted to join Lord Glow for dessert.” The butler harrumphed again, relaxing slightly. This seemed to be more the reaction he had been expecting the first time—instant obedience. Aren’t I higher than this pony? He’s a servant of an important lord… what does that make me? The identity she had memorized was the daughter of a countess in a corner of Equestria so remote it could only be reached by those who could fly. But being adopted into Luna’s household changed all that—she was a lady by courtesy. No land of her own, but a relative of an Alicorn. This is too complicated. I’ll never figure it out. Hayden whimpered, slowing in the middle of the floor. There were so many eyes on her. Hundreds of ponies stared at her—half the hall had noticed her. Stopping only made it worse—made her look as confused and overwhelmed as she really felt. “Lady Evening Star. Our betters are waiting.” The butler tapped one hoof impatiently on the floor beside her. Is this what Luna feels on her throne? As soon as Hayden thought that, her whole body tensed. No, she didn’t know what she was doing. She could let herself be overwhelmed, run away before she made things even worse… or she could make herself become the sort of person who could handle this. What’s the worst that can happen? Luna said she’d send me back. What was Hayden afraid of? She was walking through a petting zoo, not a noble court. She straightened, returning to the dignified pose Nightbreeze had taught her. “I was appreciating the art,” she said, loud enough that more than the servant would hear her. “The crown does have fine tapestries.” She started walking again. This time she used the whole length of her legs, quickly outpacing the servant. Forcing him to run along to keep up with her. Hayden didn’t know where she was going, exactly. She was just moving towards the biggest groups of ponies wearing the same colors. No one else would have the nerve to try and drag her away from her table. Sending a guard, really? “It’s… this way, Lady Evening Star,” the servant said, directing them up a flight of stairs to a balcony overlooking the main floor. There were more of the unarmed “guard” ponies at the base, shooing away the lesser nobility who approached. Strange for them to sit above the princesses like this. Ponies in the room surrounded the princess’s tables, bowing, and scraping as they approached. Yet on this balcony, a second clique had formed. Just how powerful are they? There were only a handful of tables up here. Her guide was headed for the largest, yet also the emptiest. Golden plates were filled with food, overflowing with good things that she hadn’t seen at any of the tables downstairs. Yet only one of the chairs was occupied. By the best-looking pony she’d ever seen.