Subtlety has never been my strong suit. Sometimes, it’s good to spread your metaphorical wings and try something outside your comfort zone to expand your skillset. Diversifying your abilities gives you more options for handling problems, and having more options is always a good thing.
On the other hoof, sometimes the winning move was to redefine the conflict. Instead of trying to do something you’re not good at and play by someone else’s rules, find a way to reframe things to fight it out on your terms.
For example: instead of trying to play the subtle spymaster, I could go up to a Blood Stripes-owned warehouse. A warehouse that held some of that highly flammable and explosive powder they use to make their arquebuses work.
Two Stripes were watching the front door, probably just to discourage anyone from loitering around the area. Their war paint looked a bit sloppy, though that might have been on account of the rain. The weather was also probably why they were both slumped against the wall getting as much cover from the rain as they could. What was less excusable was them chatting instead of keeping close watch on the area. Clearly the Blood Stripes didn’t put their best troops on late night warehouse guard duty.
I made a suitably dramatic entrance, teleporting in front of them with a very flashy but completely unnecessary burst of flame. The theatrics were totally worth it just to see their eyes bug out in shock. One of them wound up slipping and falling on his face while the other hastily scrambled to bring their weapons to bear and look somewhat professional.
I didn’t even make a token effort to hide my disdain. Instead, I got straight to the point. “Do you know who I am?”
The one who hadn’t fallen on his face managed to answer with only a tiny nervous squeak in his voice. “M-Magus Sunset Shimmer, right?”
“That’s right.” I turned to the other one, who’d managed to pick himself up off the ground. “And do you know type of magic I use?”
“Fire,” he squeaked out.
“Very good.” I gave them both a smile dripping with condescension. “Now, here’s the bonus question. Did you two know that right now I’m really pissed at the Blood Stripes for hurting one of my friends?”
The two guards traded a nervous look, then hesitantly leveled their spears at me. The weapons were trembling in their hooves, and I could already see the panic-sweat gathering on their brows.
I scoffed and rolled my eyes, but didn’t bother saying anything. After giving them a couple more seconds to stew and get even more terrified, I raised an eyebrow and calmly asked. “Why haven’t you started running?”
Displaying the first glimmers of intelligence the two guards had shown since I’d arrived in front of them, they bolted. I was pretty sure they wouldn’t stop until they made it back to the Blood Stripes’ headquarters. At least, I certainly hoped they wouldn’t—if they didn’t get word back to their superiors, I would’ve just wasted a couple minutes of my life bullying idiots.
Thankfully, I had a backup plan if they dropped the ball. I pulled out an impeccably written letter explaining exactly what my grievances with the Blood Stripes were and demanding appropriate restitution for their transgressions. I attached it to the front door after making sure it would be out of the rain.
Then I shot a pillar of fire a couple hundred feet into the air.
“So,” Gustav murmured softly, leaning back on the couch and watching me over his tea. “Subtle.”
Blackwing grinned, showing off his fangs. “This one is beginning to think that the Shimmer-mare might have potential after all.”
Alya rolled her eyes. “You would think that after she blows a lot of stuff up.”
“I didn’t blow anything up,” I offered in my own defense. “I just sent the Blood Stripes a message they couldn’t ignore.”
“A message that evidently involved lots of fire and explosions,” Alya deadpanned. “I suppose that is one way to get their attention.”
“But not necessarily the good kind of attention,” Gustav murmured. “The Blood Stripes are closing down hard after what happened at their warehouse. I couldn’t even find half of my usual contacts, and the ones I could find weren’t eager to get involved in a gang war.”
Blackwing scoffed and shook its head. “This one thinks that contacts who clam up at the first sign of trouble aren’t very reliable in the first place. The Shimmer-mare’s actions might be just what we need to get things moving. It rather doubts Puzzle wants us to spend a few months beating around the bush and double-checking our sources, or for the analysts to finish up with whatever evidence Alya found. When he leaves seclusion, we need to at least have answers for him ... and preferably also the head of whoever attacked his lover.”
“Says the changeling who wanted to kidnap one of the Stripes and see what information he could torture out of them,” Gustav grumbled.
Blackwing shrugged. “You might not like this one’s methods, but you can’t argue with the results they produce. If we’re going to war with the Blood Stripes, we can’t afford to get squeamish about the fact that some of them will end up dead. They’ve already made it perfectly clear that they don’t share your compunctions.”
“If we actually had a war on our hands, I’d agree with you,” Gustav countered. “But so far all we have is our boss’s girlfriend getting shot. There’s plenty of evidence hinting that it’s the Blood Stripes who did it, but we don’t know for sure—not to mention they haven’t done anything directly against the boss or his organization. If we push things right now, I don’t think the Council would come down on our side.”
“And if we wait for the Blood Stripes to make the next move...” Blackwing left that hanging ominously in the air, letting us all draw our own conclusions. I might know much about street wars, but I’d studied enough actual war in Celestia’s history classes to know that ceding the initiative was rarely a good move.
“Which is why I made a move first,” I responded. “Nobody died or got hurt, so we didn’t escalate the fight. But I’d say we sent a pretty strong signal that messing with us any more will have nasty consequences. The Stripes know that the only reason that warehouse isn’t a crater in the ground is because I decided to give them a chance to come clean. They’ll have to make some kind of response, and whatever they do will tell us a lot about how guilty they are.”
“That’s one theory,” Alya murmured, “but there’s two problems with it. First, we don’t know what they’ll do, and it might be pretty nasty. Second, even if they were completely innocent they might still have to start a fight now that you’ve publicly called them out. The last thing we need is them sending a couple squads of their best troops after you.” She held up a hoof to forestall my response. “Yes, I know, you could blow up their gunpowder, but if they’re specifically after you, they won’t bring any. Not to mention they’ll probably be dosed up on potions to make them stronger and faster, and they’ll be trying for a surprise attack.”
I grimaced and reluctantly nodded. “If they get a dozen super-fast and super-strong guys right on top of me before I even know they’re there, I’d be in trouble.” I had teleportation and a few other spells that might be able to get me out of a situation like that, but if any of them got past all my magical defenses I was a very mortal and killable pony. “But I don’t think that’s going to happen. If they wanted an all-out war with Puzzle and his allies, they wouldn’t have wasted their one surprise attack to knock out his girlfriend. That leaves his organization intact to launch a counter-attack, and pisses him off enough that retribution is a sure thing.”
“It wouldn’t be the first time the Stripes have made a stupid move,” Gustav pointed out. “Rumor has it that on top of all the nasty long-term health consequences, some of those alchemical potions they use to bulk up mess with their heads.”
Blackwing nodded grimly. “Often with vendettas it’s more about inflicting as much pain as possible than about tactics. Shooting any one of us would hurt Puzzle’s organization a lot more, but I doubt the boss would be taking any of us to his secret safe house to nurse back to health.”
“Maybe he wouldn’t do that for you,” Alya shot back with a grin.
“Alya does have the advantage over us in that regard,” Gustav conceded with a teasing grin. “I certainly don’t have as ... close of a relationship with our employer.”
She scoffed and rolled her eyes. “You let the boss feed on you one time in the middle of a desperate situation, and for years you have to endure jokes about sleeping your way to the top...” Alya cleared her throat, then turned to me and explained. “About five years back, the boss and I were on an operation on the far side of Zanzebra. Checking out the ancient temple was fun, but once we had an angry Dromaed Hristak on our tail we had to improvise.”
I asked the first follow-up question that sprang to mind. “What’s a hristak?”
“Long story.” Alya cleared her throat and pointedly got back on topic. “So, we’ve got the Blood Stripes stirred up. What’s our next move?”
“Good question.” Gustav turned to me. “I’m starting to wonder if we have any sort of plan, or if we’re just making it all up as we go.”
I shot an annoyed look Gustav’s way. “I admit, I don’t have an elaborate twenty step master plan to annihilate our enemies and bring Strumming’s attacker to justice. The whole point of hitting their warehouse was to force them to react on our timetable. Like I said, I don’t think they’re out to start a war with us ... which means they’ll probably try to de-escalate things. The Council’s already mad at them, while I’m one of their favorites. If things heat up too much...”
“Good point,” Blackwing conceded. “This one wouldn’t count on the Council doing too much, but just the threat of it’s going to have the Stripes stepping carefully. They have to know that if the Council gets involved, it won’t be on their side.” The changeling grimaced. “This one does not like sitting back and waiting, but one of the lessons Puzzle always hands out is that sometimes the best move is stand back and let your enemy dig themselves deeper on their own.”
“Pretty sure he’s said something like that to me, too.” I stood up and injected a little authority into my voice. “So right now, we’re playing this by ear. Saying there’s a twenty step plan is another way of saying that the plan has at least twenty different points where it can fail. You three know what you’re doing, and I think I can trust you to show some initiative.”
That seemed to satisfy all three of them, so we got down to going over all the information they’d gathered. None of them had any bombshells on par with what I’d done, but sometimes the little things mattered. I knew enough about investigations to realize that something that seemed like an insignificant little detail might be the one piece we needed to complete the puzzle.
We’d been at it for about half an hour when somepony knocked on my front door. It sounded way too loud and authoritative to be a casual visitor, and considering we were waiting on a response from the Stripes...
Alya glanced my way, pulling out a small crossbow. “Who do you want to answer that?”
“Considering this is my tower, they'll expect to see me. You three stay somewhere they won’t see you, but where you can get involved if things turn messy.” I levitated my robes and armor over, putting them on as fast as I could without botching it. I made sure Puzzle’s agents had found their hiding spots, then took a deep breath and carefully opened the door.
I wasn’t the slightest bit surprised to be greeted by a large zebra in full Blood Stripes war paint. His armor had enough fancy gold trim and medals that I was reasonably certain he was someone important, especially since he also had a big hat. Every merc group had their own rank system, but those two things were universal signs. The fact that he looked like he weighed twice as much as me (and all of it was muscle) added to the intimidation factor, even if it was comforting to know that I could flash-fry him in an instant—though the squad of Stripes escorting him would probably object to that.
He cleared his throat and spoke in a surprisingly soft voice for such a big guy. “Greetings, Magus Shimmer. I am Captain Volkan of the Blood Stripes. I believe we have a great deal to discuss.”
I decided to play coy and draw things out a bit. “Do we now? What about?”
Volkan’s eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly, and the barest hint of annoyance entered his voice. “I think you know. You could have delivered your letter without terrifying two of my guards and threatening to blow up our warehouse. Freeport’s postal service is quite reliable.”
I shrugged and grinned shamelessly. “What can I say, sending it through the post office just lacked that dramatic flair. Not to mention it would’ve taken longer for you to respond. I don’t like to be kept waiting.”
“Well, if you wanted to get our attention, you certainly succeeded.” Volkan grimaced. “I have been up since early this morning doing damage control.”
“Impressive, considering the only thing I injured was your pride.”
Volkan regarded me with a raised eyebrow. “I would think that you would know, Magus, that an injury to one’s pride can often be more painful than any physical wound.”
“You’ll live.” I was probably taking a risk being so flippant about it all, but taking him too seriously wasn’t a great solution either. It’s not like I was going to apologize for calling the Stripes out, especially when it had worked so well. “I assume you came here to talk, so come on in and let’s sort this out before anyone else’s ego gets bruised.”
Volkan’s eyes briefly flicked back to his guards. “Given the current tensions, I would prefer to meet in a neutral location.”
I rolled my eyes. “If I wanted to start a war, I would’ve done it last night. If you’ve done any research on me, you’d know that murdering a guest under my own roof isn’t how I operate.”
Volkan frowned, but very slowly nodded. “That much is true, though some of your associates have far less savory reputations.”
My eyes narrowed slightly. “Well you’re not dealing with them right now. It’s just me. You want to talk, my door is open.” I stepped away, deliberately leaving the door hanging open. A quick scan of the room confirmed that Puzzle’s agents were well-hidden. Good thing, since having three people waiting in ambush as soon as Volkan walked through the door would’ve ruined all my hard work. I guess they knew enough to make themselves scarce.
Volkan hesitated for half a second, then stepped through the door. I wasted no time being a gracious host. “So, you want tea or anything to eat before we get started?” The whole idea of sacred hospitality might be a bit old-fashioned, but those little gestures still meant something. One of the many lessons I’d gotten from Celestia whose value I hadn’t appreciated at the time was the importance of those seemingly insignificant courtesies.
So I was a bit annoyed when instead of taking the tea he said, “We have quite a few things to cover and I doubt either of us wants to waste time with pleasantries.” A bit of my irritation must have shown on my face, because he cleared his throat and carefully explained. “I feel I should state for the record that the Blood Stripes do not desire conflict with you or Puzzle Piece.”
If he wasn’t going to waste any time beating around the bush, I would respond in kind. “I noticed a rather significant omission from who you don’t want a fight with.”
Volkan sighed and nodded. “I cannot say that we are entirely blameless in what happened to Strumming Heartstrings. One of the soldiers under my command requested a day’s leave and his weapon to see to a few private matters.” He grimaced. “He neglected to mention that he was out for revenge against a mare with very powerful friends.”
“Revenge?” I scowled at him. “Don’t tell me this is all about Strumming catching you working for that crazy one-eared guy...”
Volkan groaned and closed his eyes, slumping down into one of my chairs. “The only good thing I can say about that disaster is that it cleared the way for my promotion. My predecessor ignored one of the most fundamental rules of being a good mercenary in Freeport: never take a job that goes against the Council. As for Agent Heartstrings’ role in the matter, being a mercenary rarely allows one the luxury of grudges. She had a job, our client was the target, and she outplayed us. It happens. We might win the next round, or she might even decide to hire us herself.”
Oh. Well, there went my best theory for why the Blood Stripes were after Strumming. Which rather begged the question... “So why did one of your soldiers shoot her?”
“A blood debt,” he answered matter of factly. “According to him, Agent Heartstrings is responsible for the death of his uncle. He attempted to repay her in kind.”
Strumming had murdered somepony? I probably should’ve been more shocked by the accusation than I was, but it wouldn’t have been the first questionable thing she’d done. “And I’m going to assume he decided that with her having diplomatic immunity, reporting the crime wouldn’t do any good?”
Volkan nodded. “Even without that, the condottieri are not known for their impartial dedication to justice. If you want justice in Freeport, it is generally better to claim it for yourself.”
That was depressingly close to what I’d been told in my meeting with the Council. They simply didn’t have the resources or the will to turn Freeport into the sort of place where you could rely on the authorities to punish crimes. The problem with relying on mercenaries to maintain public order was that they tended to only be loyal to who paid them.
Volkan sighed and ran a hoof through his mane. “I brought him with me, he’s part of my escort. I expect you will demand blood for blood as recompense for the attack on your friend?”
Even leaving aside my general dislike of killing people, getting bloody revenge on the guy seeking bloody revenge sounded like a great way to set up one of those endless cycles of revenge you always hear about. I really didn’t want to start a centuries-long feud my descendants would still be fighting out long after they’d forgotten what originally started it all. “All I want is for you to turn your soldier over to the authorities.” Sure, Freeport’s institutions were nasty and corrupt, but it was a safe bet that Puzzle could outplay anyone who tried to get Strumming’s attacker off. Relying on all the corruption to balance itself out was a terrible solution, but it would stop things from escalating.
Volkan scowled and shook his head. “Zuberi might be an idiot who caused us far more trouble than he’s worth, but he’s still one of us. I’m not handing any of the soldiers under my command over to Freeport’s justice.”
Well, that complicated things. Without the Blood Stripes’ cooperation I didn’t have a perpetrator or any evidence to back up my claim. However, Volkan probably hadn’t come to my tower and laid out all the facts just to stonewall me and start a war now. “Alright, so if you’re not turning him over what are you willing to offer me?”
“I would think the solution obvious.” Volkan waited for a second to see if I would finish the rest of it for him, and when I didn’t he moved on. “The conflict between you and Zuberi is a private matter of honor. Freeport has laws and customs for addressing such concerns.”
I frowned as the rest of the dots connected. “You want me to fight a duel with him?”
“Yes.” Volkan sighed and ran a hoof down his face. “In hindsight, I should have insisted he pursue that course with Agent Heartstrings instead. It certainly would have saved us both a lot of bother. However, I cannot change the past. Hopefully this will at least address some of your concerns and move the conflict to a more civilized theater.”
Oh yeah, fighting each other in duels is far more civilized than relying on the legal system. There were times I really missed Equestria, even if it was a long way from perfect. “So what sort of duel are we talking about? A fight to the death?”
“The two of you would need to discuss the terms yourselves.” Volkan shrugged. “For my part, I would certainly rather have him alive than dead, but the offence he has offered is such that I cannot deny your right to his life.”
I held up a hoof to reassure him. “Don’t worry, I’m not wild about killing people when there are other viable options on the table.”
“I will ensure that he abides by whatever terms the two of you agree to,” Volkan offered. “A soldier with no honor who cannot follow orders is of no use to me.”
“Super.” So at least the duel would only be stupid, instead of stupid and pointless. I guess that was something. “Sounds like all that’s left is to talk with him about the actual terms for the duel.”
Volkan nodded. “I’ll send him in.” He headed for the door, but paused on his way out. “Magus, I ... regret that one of my soldiers is responsible for this. While I cannot surrender him to Freeport justice, I would be happy to pay blood money. By the same token if there is any punishment I could levy within the Blood Stripes that could satisfy your grievance against him...”
“He shot one of my friends,” I growled out. “He needs to answer for that, and with more than a demotion and a few ducats.”
Volkan didn’t so much as blink at my answer, so that was probably what he’d expected me to say. “Alright. I’ll send him in.”
He exited, and a minute later another Blood Stripe walked in. The new guy looked positively scrawny compared to his superior. Considering he only looked a little older than me, he probably hadn’t been chugging down potions to bulk himself up for anywhere near as long as Volkan had. There was something vaguely familiar about the lines of his face, though I couldn’t quite put my hoof on it. The standard war paint of the Blood Stripes probably made it harder to pick out facial features—zebras look weird when they’re red and black.
He must have seen that I was trying to figure out who he was, because the young zebra’s eyes narrowed. “I am Zuberi Aksoy of the Blood Stripes. You were there the day my uncle died, Magus Shimmer. Do you remember it?”
Considering I’d only ever seen Strumming kill one zebra, it wasn’t too hard to guess who Zuberi’s uncle was. “The bokor in the out-islands.”
Zuberi scowled and nodded sharply. “Once, long ago, before the Council, my family was pacted to one of the lesser necrocrats. For most of my family, it was nothing beyond a minor note of trivial history. To my uncle, it became an obsession. He dreamed of recapturing what he called the lost glory of our family’s golden days. He did his best to keep his studies harmless, confining his activities to one island that had almost no contact with the outside world. His undead were used for strictly peaceful activities, like farming. He did no evil and caused no harm to others.” His teeth clenched. “That did not stop your Strumming Heartstrings from murdering him.”
Despite my best effort to play it cool, I flinched. I wasn’t proud of my role in that entire mess. Yeah, the guy had been a necromancer practicing forbidden dark magic, but I hadn’t seen the bokor doing anything nasty enough to require death. Strumming had still put a spike in the back of his head without a moment’s hesitation, and after he’d backed down and agreed to let us leave in peace. Nothing about the incident had sat well with me, and the only reason I hadn’t done more about it was that Rising Fire hadn’t given me much time to reflect on it all. The crazy super-powered lich who claimed to be a time and dimensional traveler overshadowed little things like a necromancer getting killed.
Though really, what could I have done? Necromancy was dark magic, and the bokor had sicced his zombies on us and nearly killed one of Strumming’s soldiers. The Freeport authorities obviously didn’t care, and Strumming’s superiors in the EIS had been fine with her locking me up when I’d barely dabbled with dark magic under far more justifiable circumstances. About all I really could have done about it was ... well, more-or-less what Zuberi did. Guess that meant I could sympathize with him.
However, a little sympathy didn’t change anything about what he’d done. “So you shot Strumming to avenge your uncle? If you knew who she was and that I was there too, you had to have some idea how much trouble going after her would cause.”
“Some,” Zuberi conceded. “But he’s my blood.”
Ugh. Should’ve known it would boil down to that. Family is just one of those things people can’t be reasonable about. If someone hurt Kukri, I would’ve torn them down no matter how bad the consequences. Hay, I didn’t even like Strumming, and I was going after the guy who shot her. Still, I had to try and reason with him. “Do you think your uncle would want you to get yourself and a bunch of other people killed? People are talking about a street war right now!”
Zuberi groaned and ran a hoof down his face, falling heavily into one of my chairs. “I didn’t want that. I was just trying to...”
“You wanted to avenge your uncle, and now it’s all gone way too far and you’re in over your head and have no idea how to get out,” I concluded. “There’s an easy solution to it all: turn yourself in and confess. I’ll make sure they go easy on you. I can probably even get Strumming or her superiors to pay you blood money.”
He grimaced and shook his head. “I can’t give up while my uncle’s killer is still alive, and gold cannot pay for a debt of blood.” He threw a desperate look my way. “You could stand aside. I have no quarrel with you—this is between her and me. You don’t have to be involved if you don’t want to.”
I crossed my forelegs over my chest. “I think it’s pretty obvious that I do.” I could just pass on the duel, but then Puzzle would solve things his way. Which would probably be much nastier and bloodier than a duel.
Zuberi sighed and nodded very slowly. “She must be a very good friend if you are willing to go so far for her.”
I scoffed and shook my head. “I don’t know if I’d call her a friend. Actually, most of the time she annoys the hay out of me.”
I expected that to surprise Zuberi, but instead he just chuckled and shook his head. “My uncle Djimon ... well, he was already the weird uncle nobody liked to talk about who spent all his time around dead bodies. We only invited him to family gatherings because we were obligated to, and everyone was secretly happy when he didn’t turn up.”
“And yet, you’re willing to kill for him,” I murmured.
Zuberi’s eyes narrowed. “Just because my uncle was a creepy necromancer I hated spending time with doesn’t mean I’m okay with some Equestrian cutting his throat.”
“Sort of like how just because Strumming gets on my nerves doesn't mean I’m okay with some zebra putting a bullet in her chest,” I shot back, crossing my forelegs over my chest.
He nodded slowly, conceding the point. “Then it seems we are at an impasse, with no choice but to fight a duel for the sake of two people we don’t even like.”
I growled a couple words Celestia wouldn’t have approved of. “If you can come up with any alternatives, I’m all ears.”
Zuberi sighed and shook his head. “If I had a better idea, I would have done it already.”
Super. “Alright then, looks like we’re dueling. Not to the death, though.”
Zuberi nodded. “I have no desire to kill you either. Shall we limit ourselves to fighting until one of us yields or is unable to continue?”
“Yeah, sure.” It shouldn’t be too hard to land a disabling spell that would destroy his ability to offer effective resistance. Zuberi was stubborn, but I was pretty sure he’d back down once it was clear he couldn’t win. If he was honest about only trying to avenge his uncle out of obligation he might even want to lose on a subconscious level. It would give him a way out of the mess he’d gotten himself into without violating his sense of honor. Of course, that same stubborn honor would probably say that he couldn’t deliberately throw the fight.
Zuberi closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “It is settled, then. If I win, you stand aside and allow me to gain my vengeance on Strumming Heartstrings.”
I thought about mentioning that Puzzle was probably the one he really needed to worry about, but wisely kept my mouth shut. After all, that would only matter if I lost, and I had no intention of doing that. “Alright, and if I win you drop your vendetta against her and turn yourself in and make a full confession to the condottieri.”
Zuberi scowled and shook his head. “Freeport’s justice is no justice at all. I will not make another attempt on her life, but surrendering myself to the condottieri is out of the question.” He thought it over for a second, then suggested. “I could, however, request a long-term assignment somewhere far away from Freeport. I trust a de facto exile would suffice?”
“I can live with it.”
“Then we agreed on the terms.” He nodded solemnly. “I trust you are familiar with the provisions of the Zebrican dueling code?”
I tried to recall whether I’d actually heard anything about it before. “There are all the usual rules about no poisons, outside aid, and other forms of cheating. Each one of us names a single category of weapon that neither party can use, and we’re free to bring anything else.”
“That’s the basics,” he agreed. “To be honest, I don’t remember all the finer points of it myself. Since you are the wronged party, you get first choice of weapon.”
I didn’t need long to think about it. “No firearms or other ranged weapons.” Zuberi looked a bit skinny and under-muscled to be one of the Stripes’ close combat specialists, and he’d used a gun to take out Strumming. Not to mention that forcing him to close to melee with me would cut down his options and give me a lot more time to land a spell.
“As expected,” he murmured. “I’m sure you’ve already guessed what I will use.”
I shrugged. “I’m not a mind reader.”
“I would have thought it obvious, magus. I choose magic.”
“What?!” I hadn’t been expecting that. “You can’t—magic isn’t a weapon! It’s a fundamental force that runs through everything in the universe! That’d be like trying to ban air or water from a duel!”
Zuberi answered me with a raised eyebrow. “Tell me, magus, what means were you planning to use to fight me in our duel?”
Horseapples. He had me there. While I didn’t think of magic as a weapon, it was pretty hard to argue I didn’t use it all the time in combat. However... “It’s still way too broad. Almost everything I do involves using magic in some way.”
He tapped his chin, thinking it over. “No offensive spellcasting, or any spell targeted directly at me. No spells to give yourself unnatural physical strength, speed, or any other abilities. You may use your telekinesis, but only as it doesn’t significantly increase your reach beyond what you could manage with your hooves. Your equipment cannot be so enchanted that it provides you with a substantial advantage over me. And just to be safe, let’s toss in a general prohibition on any form of magic that provides a substantial advantage in the duel that could not be obtained by any other means.”
I scowled and shook my head. “Not sure I like those terms.”
He shrugged. “If we cannot agree on terms for our duel, then it will not happen.”
In other words, we were right back to the prospect of a street war between Puzzle and the Blood Stripes. Not a great outcome ... but I wasn’t wild about trying to win a battle without having access to much in the way of magic either. “I’ll think about it.”
Zuberi nodded solemnly. “You have until noon, tomorrow. I will await you at the dueling grounds near the central plaza. If there is nothing else, magus…?”
I grunted and waved him away. He trotted out without another word, which was fine by me. I wasn’t in any mood to continue playing at being a good host or diplomat. I only had until noon tomorrow to figure out a way to win a one-on-one battle against a trained and experienced mercenary where I couldn’t use any spells more advanced than what an unmarked foal could manage. If I didn’t find solution, we were back to blood in the streets.