//------------------------------//
// Chapter 5 
// Story: Midnight's Shadow: Succession Crisis 
// by Ponibius 
//------------------------------//

We had but half a day to catch a werewolf before it transformed again. We did not know who it was, what this pony’s intentions were, or the exact nature of their affliction, but we needed to stop them before more ponies died. I will see it done. Pity for us my tracking spells had been countered, and our quarry was likely aware of our pursuit.

Stalwart and I made haste to  catch up with the others. I knew we stood little chance of catching Captain Freezy and her fellow airborne guards, but Rumble and his servants proved surprisingly robust. Years spent hunting had given them experience I lacked, and they quickly moved through the woods towards Glazing at a pace that I could not match. It was moments like these that I cursed my short legs.

We finally caught up with Rumble at the very edge of the town. To my surprise, instead of continuing into it, the would-be lord of Honeyfield was taking time to curse at his servants and dogs.

“You mangy curs! I pay you to do one thing, and you flop it up!” Rumble stomped a hoof, making his servants wilt away from him. “I should turn the lot of you out on the street! My dogs have never lost a trail before, but now that—”

I pointedly cleared my throat. “Sir Rumble, is there a problem?”

Rumble’s face flushed a deep red. “Of course there is a problem! Somehow these dolts lost the trail! In all my years that has never happened!” He jabbed a hoof towards the servant in charge of the bloodhounds, causing the poor soul to quail in fear. “Go back and find the trail again, and I do not want to see you again ‘till we are back on track! Move, move, move!”

Having no desire to remain near their angered master, the servants scrambled to gather up the hounds and rush them back to the forest to find the trail once again.

I could not help but frown at Rumble’s abuse towards his servants. “Is it possible that the hounds are merely unable to separate one pony’s sent from another's?”

“Bah! Certainly not!” Rumble scoffed. “My bloodhounds are the best bred pack of hunting dogs in all of Equestria (1). If there’s a scent to follow, then they will find it.” A wry grin spread over his features. “I just wanted to get the help scurrying. Servants get complacent if you coddle them too often. Give them a good yell now and again and they will get hopping. Now is not the time for them to be getting lazy—not with a murderous shapeshifter running about.”

1. Indeed, to this day House Honeyfield has a well-established reputation for dog breeding, and has won a number of prestigious dog shows in more recent history.

He perhaps had a point, though I would think there were better ways to motivate ponies besides berating them in public. “Do you think the dogs will regain the scent? I am sorry to say that I do not think we will be able to follow one set of hooves amongst all the others in town.”

Rumble spat on the ground. “Not likely. Like I said, my hounds are the best. If they lost the scent, then something is wrong. Probably something magical. Magic is the only thing I know of that could foil them. Not unless we have one wily stallion who knows his way through the forest, but I doubt that.”

“What makes you say so?”

“Because the fool was stumbling through the woods like a drunkard,” Rumble explained. I accepted his expertise on the subject without comment. “He weaved his way this way and that like he did not know what he was doing. If he had any brains about how to get himself out of the woods, he would have followed the stream to Glazing. Instead the fool fell into the stream and then stumbled his way back out again. ‘Twas only when he had damn near stumbled into the town that he started going in a straight line. I am telling you, there was either something wrong with him or he did not have a clue what he was doing.”

“I see.” I scratched my neck. “'Tis possible that this stallion panicked when he transformed back into a pony and realized what he had done.”

Rumble ran his hoof through his beard. “Makes as much sense as anything else, but we still need to find him. What of yourself? Were you not using magic to track him too?”

I shook my head, and a terrible itch on my leg forced me to scratch it as well. “I am afraid that my tracking spell has somehow been blocked. I tried a couple of similar spells, but none of them worked either. I could perhaps batter my way past his defenses with the right tools and time, but I fear both are in short supply.”

“Damnation.” Rumble stomped the ground. “Well, is that not a kick to your groin?”

“What about Captain Freezy? What is she doing?” I scratched yet more, the itch being irritatingly persistent and ruining my ladylike aura in the process.

Rumble waved vaguely towards a couple of house guardponies talking with villagers on the street. “She’s running around with the guard like a mother hen, and asking everypony if they have seen anything.”

“That sounds reasonable,” I said, scratching yet more.

Stalwart raised an eyebrow. “Magus, are you well?”

I grumbled under my breath. “I know not why, but I have an infernal itch.” Looking down, I noticed a large patch of my leg was covered with a red rash. “This does not look good. Either I have contacted a flesh eating virus that is even now eating my skin to—”

“‘Tis poison ivy,” Stalwart interrupted, peering over my shoulder.

I reexamined my leg. “Or ‘tis poison ivy.” I scowled at the the red blemishes, trying to see how far it had spread. “I think I hate poison ivy. It makes me uncomfortable.”

Rumble snickered. “You probably got it walking around the woods. Mayhaps you should have been more careful about where you step?”

“I was more wary of the threat of some monster jumping out and tearing out my throat,” I growled, trying to resist the temptation to scratch. “Poison ivy did not strike me as a major threat.” Though that assessment was changing as the itching slowly spread over my body.

“If we get some time we can see the local healer,” Stalwart suggested. “She should have something to help with the itching at least.”

“What is this about itching?” a new but familiar voice said. “I hope somepony did not catch something doing something they should not have been. That could lead to an embarrassing story.”

I turned to see Subtle Song approaching us, flashing us a wide smile. “‘Tis merely some poison ivy,” I informed her as mine irritation flared. “Something I am growing to despise more and more with e’ery passing moment.”

Subtle whistled as her eyes flicked over me. “I can see why. What were you doing, rolling in it?”

“I would not be rolling on the ground or up against a tree,” I informed her. “That would be dirty.”

Subtle shrugged. “If you say so. But our lovely magus’ discomfort aside, I was curious about what is going on. I have heard rumors that somepony was murdered in the castle, but each story is more wild than the last.” She nodded to the nearest pair of guards. “And that lot has not been helpful at all. They are far more interested in barking out questions than giving answers. So would you be so kind as to tell me what is happening before I have to go to the castle itself and bed one of the servants to find the truth of the matter?”

I could sympathize with Subtle’s frustration, and it struck me as best to inform her what was going on. “I am sorry to say that Shining Quest was slain in the castle last night. We are currently attempting to find who killed her. As for what has happened...” I gave her all the details I felt comfortable telling my spymaster, including all that I had discovered in the castle and woods, as well as how we had lost the trail.

Subtle stroked her cheek as I finished my tale. “Hm, most troubling indeed. Though I noticed something queer that might be relevant to this latest unpleasantness.”

I motioned for her to continue. “If you could illuminate us about what is happening then I would be most appreciative.”

Subtle smiled with a sort of mock graciousness. “But of course, my lovely lady. At your prompting I watched over High Roller—”

“That con who's pretending to be my nephew,” Rumble corrected with a harsh grunt.

“As you say, my lord,” Subtle said without missing a beat. “I was doing what I could to learn what I could of him. ‘Twas my hope that he would come down from his room so that I could speak with him, but alas, it seemed that the only company he desired was a bottle. For he ordered more than one spirit from one of the servers at the inn, a pretty young lass who is the inn owners’ daughter. It seems that she is a childhood friend of Roller’s, and she seems convinced her friend had returned.”

“I know the lass you speak of,” Rumble said with a lecherous smile. “When I get a drink at the inn, I like to stare at Warming Welcome’s—”

“Anyways,” I interrupted, trying to keep this conversation productive. “Why do you bring this up?”

“I am getting to that,” Subtle assured me. “I merely wished to give you a complete report. Near as I could tell, High’s only guests were the family that owns the inn and a unicorn mare whom that neither I nor anypony else recognized.”

“What did she look like?” I asked

“Tall, dark-green coat with a dual-brown mane with a bee cutie mark. Here, let me show you.” Subtle’s horn glowed as an illusion of the mare formed before us. It was nopony I had ever seen before.

I looked to Rumble. “Anypony you recognize?”

Rumbled scratched his beard. “Nope, and I would remember a mare with legs that nice. Though...” He shook his head. “Nah, nopony I know. Thought there for a moment she reminded me of somepony, but I am drawing a blank. Might be she is a merchant I saw as she passed through town. Plenty of ponies that I do not know come up and down the river.”

I hummed as I considered all of this. “But why would a merchant or some other such individual passing through Glazing wish to see the pony claiming to be High Roller?”

“Mayhaps ‘twas the pony that brought him to Honeyfield.” Subtle shrugged. “Could be he made some promises for passage on a merchant barge, or even struck a friendship.”

“Somepony to keep an eye out, in any event,” I decided. “What else did you see?”

“Eventually it came time for me to retire for the night,” Subtle continued. “It did not seem likely that High Roller—or his impersonator, as the case may be—would be going anyplace after the number of drinks he had ordered. On the magus’ bill I might add.” The spymaster tsked as she shook her head. “‘Twas to my surprise that I found Roller had left his room when I awoke. I am an early riser, so I did not think he would be up before I. Especially when he should have been spending the entire morn recovering from his cups.”

Rumble snorted. “Assuming he was not merely feigning drunkenness. A con would be the type to pretend to be seeking solace at the bottom of a bottle after being rejected at the castle.”

I was not so convinced that the pony calling himself High Roller was a fraud, but still, his behavior was curious. A pony who had been deep in his drinks would not have an easy time rising early. “So what happened next?”

“I found him stumbling out of the woods a while later,” Subtle said. “He seemed even more haggard than yourselves, though from what I could see he seemed to have dodged an encounter with poison ivy.” The glower I shot Subtle’s way seemed to convince her to move forward. “Anyways, I originally thought he must have gotten so drunk during the night that he wandered out into the woods—ponies have done stranger things while under the influence of their drink. But now that I have heard your story, I cannot help but see a more sinister explanation.”

“I cannot help but concur,” I said. 'Twas possible that it was mere coincidence that High Roller came out of the forest the morning after the lycanthrope had attacked Shining, but there were too many facts the lined up against Roller. If Roller were the werewolf, ‘twould explain the lack of monster attacks in the area ‘til now. ‘Twas even possible that Roller did not even know he was afflicted with lycanthropy, or at least had not until just recently. There were plenty of recorded instance where this had been the case, especially during the early stages of the disease.

Rumble scoffed and stomped a hoof. “Knew we should have threw that scoundrel into a dungeon. Tossing him out into his rump was too good for him. Now he’s gone and murdered a mare.”

“We do not know for certain if he is our monster,” I cautioned. “‘Twould be best if we brought him into our custody and question him thoroughly. If nothing else, the next rise of the moon will tell us much.”

“And I am saying that a spade is a spade,” Rumble spat. “'Tis obvious who our villain is, but I agree that we should capture the murderer before he can escape. Then it will be the noose for him.”

I fully intended to make sure justice was done before anypony hanged. ‘Twould be most difficult to correct a misjustice if we determined Roller’s innocence after the hangmare’s rope crushed his throat into a gurgling mess of bone and muscle.

“Let us not tarry, then.” I stepped in the direction of the inn and everypony moved with me. “'Tis possible he already knows we are onto him and will attempt to flee—something we cannot allow.”

None of my companions objected, and soon we found ourselves before the inn. I briefly considered calling on Captain Freezy’s aid, but decided time was of the essence. Every minute we wasted allowed Roller an opportunity to escape. The best I could do was order a couple pegasi guards to find their captain and meet us at the inn while we searched for Roller. Not an ideal solution, but ‘twas better than the alternatives.

Our entry drew the attention of everypony in the inn. A maiden I recognized from mine earlier visit approached us with an inviting smile. She was a slightly heavyset young mare, with a light brown coat and long orange curls that draped a freckled covered face. I guessed this was Warming Welcome, for I saw no other young mares working in the inn. “What is it you desire milord? Can I fetch you a drink this fine day?”

“Outta my way!” Rumble barked, hardly missing a step as he made his way towards the stairs. “I got business with the scoundrel lodged yonder.”

Warming stepped in his way, drawing a fierce scowl from Rumble. “What is the matter, milord? Would you like for me to send a message to High to have him come down to meet you?”

“I can deliver the message just fine myself, thank you.” Rumble moved to sweep the server aside, but Warming grabbed onto his leg. “Wha—let me go, thou wench!”

“No!” Warming clung on desperately to the Honeyfield knight despite his efforts to shake her off. “I will not let you hurt High!”

“This is none of your concern!” The two of them kept struggling, and while Rumble was far larger and stronger than the serving girl, Warming refused to give in. The two of them bumped into a pair of tables, and drink and food flew through the air as the strange scene played out before us. ‘Twas not long at all before Warming’s parents emerged, screaming for a halt to the sudden madness in their business.

I was tempted to cast a spell to end this farce, but most of those I thought of to quickly end the affair risked hitting Rumble as well or one of the inn’s other patrons. After mine earlier encounter with Freezy, I did not need another important pony in Honeyfield annoyed with me.

Subtle leaned in so as to be heard over the din of battle. “We should forget this and proceed upstairs immediately. The serving wench is attempting to delay us—High Roller might be slipping out as we speak.”

I nodded in agreement. “Let us go.” Subtle led the way as Stalwart and I followed.

Warming’s eyes widened as the movement her attention. “No!”

The momentary distraction was all Rumble needed. He broke Warming’s hold with a twist of his free foreleg and, with a heave, flipped the filly onto her back. Rumble quickly followed with a punch to Warming’s diaphragm that knocked the wind out of her.

“Ha!” Rumble cawed as he stood over the gasping serving girl. “Know thy place, filly!”

Whatever transpired next did not concern me, for I quickly found myself upstairs and before the door to High Roller’s room. Subtle tried the door handle but found it locked. She swiftly stepped to the side and motioned to the door. “Sergeant, if you would?”

It took but a single powerful buck from Stalwart to cave the door in. He whirled into the inn room, frowning as he scanned it. “He’s not here.”

I followed close behind him, noting that the room was empty of even Roller’s meager possessions. My horn pulsed in a spell as I checked for magic; I found traces that were quickly dissipating, probably some recently cast spell, but I discovered nothing else. Mine eyes went to the window, which was wide open. “He has escaped. Quickly, outside!”

We ran back down the stairs, nearly running over Rumble as he tried to ascend the stairs in turn. He seemed to understand our intent, for he swiftly changed directions and led us outside.

Rumble looked up and down the street, but Roller was nowhere to be seen. “Where did he go?!”

My horn flared as I cast a spell to unravel any nearby veils or illusions, but caught no sight of Roller either. “I know not. He might have left his room only a couple of seconds after we arrived, or half an hour ago. He could be anywhere now.” I tried another tracking spell, but once more found it blocked. “There might be some truth to his story about having escaped from Freeport. Such a feat would have been difficult to the extreme, and skills and magics allowing him to avoid detection would have greatly aided his emancipation. ‘Twould explain how he gave us the slip, threw off the hounds from his scent, and blocked my tracking spell.”

“Damnation!” Rumble glared about, looking as though he wished to break something. “So you are telling me we cannot find the villain?”

“I do not think we will have an easy time of it. A pony who knows the right spells can be extremely difficult to find.” I should know; I knew many of many such spells. If I wished not to be found, even a formidable archmagus like Mother would have no small trouble discovering me. “‘Tis possible he only ran because he saw such a large party coming his way, but I am more inclined to think ‘tis because he is the shapeshifter we seek.”

“Of course he is!” Rumble stomped a hoof. “Why else would he run? Because his mother’s come calling?” He rounded about  back towards the inn. “I am going to interrogate that tavern filly. Maybe she knows where the villain has gone off to.”

I shook my head. “I think it unlikely Roller would tell a serving girl where he has run off to.”

“The filly’s been fooled into thinking that scoundrel is my nephew,” Rumble countered. “Aye, he probably even bedded the soft-headed idiot.”

“I think that—”

Freezy landed beside us with a pair of her guards, cutting me off. “What madness transpires here?!”

Rumble let out a frustrated huff. “We just missed our quarry. The pony claiming to be my nephew is our murderer.”

“He is our prime suspect,” I corrected. “His guilt had not yet been determined.”

“Bah!” Rumble waved away mine objection. “Do not dance around the issue, we both know the truth.”

Freezy frowned. “How did you lose him?”

I hastily recounted. Time was against us now, for our quarry had proven to be surprisingly slippery. All our methods of tracking Roller had proven insufficient to the task, and I found myself scrambling to identify what options were left to us now that we had reached a dead end.

Freezy growled deep in her throat. “I knew I should have departed without you. We would not be discussing this if I had gone out and captured this fraud with the first light of day.”

I felt mine own irritation grow, but I decided to stay out of the argument. Stalwart’s words about not diving into every debate were yet fresh in my mind. 'Tis true that I could had pointed out that Freezy was unlikely to have done better. She did not even have my magic or Subtle at her disposal, and even fewer counters to whatever spells Roller was using, but that would only have served to further entrench Freezy against me. Neigh, best to hold my counsel until it would be of the most use.

Rumble was less restrained. “Mind thy tongue, Captain,” he growled back at her. “Thou speakest to thy future count.”

Freezy’s wings flicked and a severe glower settled over her features. “Be that as it may, you are not count yet, and I am still Captain of the Honeyfield Guard. As long as those facts are true, I will do as I feel necessary.” Before Rumble could respond, she promptly turned to the other two guards. “Arrest Warming and her parents. I wish to question them about the stallion who stayed under their roof.”

“By your command.” The two of them headed into the inn to carry out their duty.

“Thou art not questioning them without me,” Rumble said. “I wish to have mine own words with them, and have that girl punished for assaulting her lord.”

Freezy returned her attention to us. “Do as you will. But for now, if you are done wasting my time, I need to organize a search for the pony you failed to capture.” She took to the sky without bothering to wait for an answer and was swiftly out of earshot.

“Bitch.” Rumble roughly grabbed his canteen and took a deep drink. “Why my cousin was ever besodden with her, I will never know.”

“The heart is a mysterious thing,” Subtle offered philosophically. “Who can say what drives one pony to fall in love with another?”

Rumble snorted. “Love’s nothing but trouble if you ask me. A fun romp with a comely mare now and again is all a stallion really needs. Most every stallion I knew that got attached ended up regretting it, ending up all ... domesticated.” He hawked and spat on the ground.

“Oh, I could hardly argue that.” Subtle batted her eyelashes at Rumble. “I never regretted a good roll in the hay after a long day.”

“If we can concentrate on the matter at hoof?” I interrupted. I did not need the two most amorous ponies near me becoming distracted and retreating to some farmer’s barn to engage in whatever this ‘roll in the hay’ business was. There was work to be done. “‘Twould be best if we decided on our next steps.”

“What are we going to do?” Rumble grumbled. “We have no track to follow, and this damnable fraud could be anywhere by now. Mayhaps Freezy’s band will find him, but I am not thinking it likely. And there are only so many hours before twilight.”

“‘Tis exactly our problem,” I stated. “The chances of us finding our quarry before nightfall is unlikely. We will run ourselves ragged searching every nook and cranny and end up with nothing to show for it. That is why I intend on using what time we have preparing for the night.”

Stalwart tilted his head, an intent look in his eyes. “What is your plan, milady?”

“The short of it? Fight this monster on a field of our choosing and defeat him.”

Rumble sides heaved with a great belly laugh. “Now that is more like it! Best way I can think of to deal with this pony who would sully my family name. I have been itching to smite some beastie with my spear.”

“Please do not mention itching,” I said, unable to resist the temptation to scratch my leg.

Subtle rubbed her chin. “But how are we to draw a werewolf to where we desire? 'Tis a wild beast.”

I tried to concentrate on explaining my reasoning instead of the infernal poison ivy that seemed to burn a third of my body now. “By knowing where it will go based on what we know about it. The werewolf went straight for Shining, a pony who also claimed the title Roller desired. If this were a monster with purely sanguine desires then it would have attacked somepony here in town or one of the nearby farms, not somepony all the way at the castle. Neigh, the werewolf has a purpose: to slay those that who desire to become the count.”

Or at least that was mine idea. 'Twas entirely possible some other purpose drove it, but I would not convince the others of my plan if I diluted mine own argument. In any event, I was relatively certain of my judgement of its behavior. Unless the pony calling himself High Roller was playing an overly elaborate game, all his actions suggested he desired to be the count of Honeyfield above all else, regardless of what beast he might unleash. Whether that was a conscious or subconscious desire was a matter of semantics.

“So you think the werewolf will return to the castle?” Rumble asked.

“That is where its prey is, no?” I tapped my hoof as I considered how best to prepare my battlefield. “Sir Rumble, it would be best if the servants were convinced to depart the castle for the night. There is no sense having them be in the way of danger, and I am sure we can dispense with their services ‘till the morning.”

“Sounds good to me,” Rumble agreed. “The lot of them would just get in the way anyways.”

I looked to Stalwart next. “Sergeant, I have several tasks for thee. First, I want thee to speak with Freezy and convince her to remove her daughter from the castle. ‘Twould be best if Snowfall were taken amongst the clouds and out of the werewolf’s reach.”

Stalwart nodded. “What else, milady?”

“If thou canst, tell the captain of our plans and convince her to aid us,” I said. “After that, there are two other things I wish for thee to oversee. I want the area around the castle to have a thick cloud cover—preferably lightning clouds.”

Stalwart hummed to himself. “That might be tricky. It all depends on what the local weather team has available and if I can get them to cooperate with me on short notice.”

I waved the issue off. “Do what thou canst. If something can be made of it then good—if not, ‘twill not be essential to my plans. Neigh, far more important is the next thing I wish to have addressed.” I withdrew a dagger from my saddlebags. “Listen well, for our quarry is a dangerous one: the typical werewolf possesses supernatural strength, speed, and senses. Those things are terrible enough on their own, but a lycanthrope can recover from all but the most grievous of wound almost instantly.”

Stalwart grunted and nodded. “I have heard about that. Never saw it for myself, but I knew a few ponies who hunted a werewolf once. They said that its wounds closed nearly as quickly as their squad opened them.”

“Just so. Why ‘tis necessary that we procure the wolfsbane.” I pulled my dagger out of its scabbard, revealing a pale blade. “Silver, especially inherited silver, can inflict the damage we need. Our quarry will not regenerate wounds received from a silver weapon, and inherited silver is outright poisonous to them.” I examined my dagger and frowned. “Though this will not be nearly enough.”

Judging from the paw marks I saw, one of the last things I wished to do was get into dagger range with such a beast. Falling into a melee with the werewolf with its all-too-sharp claws and teeth would likely end with my throat torn out in a bloody ruin as I choked to death on mine own blood.

Rumble crossed his legs over his chest. “So what are we gonna do about that? Sorry to say, we do not have a bunch of silver weapons lying about the castle.”

“Neigh, but you do have silverware you use to eat off of, do you not?” I put my dagger back in its scabbard. “I suggest take the silver to a local blacksmith to melt down and forge into weapons for us to use. I trust it will not be a issue for us to remove every piece of silver we can find in the castle to arm ourselves, Sir Rumble?”

“Nah.” A grin spread across Rumble’s lips. “We can always melt it back into silverware once we are done. Besides, ‘twill make for a good laugh when I tell ponies that I killed a werewolf with their soup spoons.” He laughed. “I can already see their faces!”

“Canst thou see to this?” I asked Stalwart. “Thou art familiar with forgework thanks to thy wife, so I think thee best suited for this task.”

Stalwart stiffened nearly imperceptibly. “I am not comfortable being away from your side for so long. There is only so much work that can be done before nightfall even if we make use of every hour available to us. And even then, the weapons we will be able to produce will not be of a high quality due to the lack of time.”

“If ‘tis our dear magus’ safety you are worried about, then worry not.” Subtle draped a leg around my shoulders and smiled widely. “I will watch over her while you see to that. Besides, we need weapons that can kill this monster if we are to win.”

“And I am hardly helpless,” I stated. “We should not be in mortal peril ‘till the rising of the moon. Roller ran from us at the first sight of us, and I do not see why he would suddenly switch tactics ‘till his transformation.”

Stalwart took a deep breath and nodded. “Very well then, I will do as you command.”

Rumble whistled loudly to his servants, who were still vainly trying to regain our quarry’s scent. “I will send my servants to gather up the silverware and have it delivered to the blacksmith here in town. That will give you time to deal with Freezy.” His eyes narrowed. “I wish you luck. She’s as frigid as her name suggests.”

“I will manage,” Stalwart said evenly.

“Very well, then.” Rumble dusted himself off. “If there is nothing else, I am going to speak with Warming and give her a piece of my mind about what just happened.”

I spoke up to try and head off the brewing storm. “Do keep in mind that she was likely just used by a con artist. You know yourself how easy it is to be deceived, and what good con artist could not prey upon the heart of a naive maiden?” In truth, I did not wish for him to be too harsh with a young mare who had suffered a moment’s indiscretion. Aye, she had misjudged, but ‘twould be hard to blame a pony who wished to see her long-dead friend again.

Rumble grunted. “True enough. Still, she assaulted her future lord.”

“And as a lord you need to show wisdom,” I insisted. “Keep in mind that your reputation as the County of Honeyfield would suffer if you started your reign by severely punishing some young maiden beguiled by a con artist. Being overly harsh will cause resentment ‘mongst the population and make them see you as heavy-hoofed. Neigh, I recommend merely chastising the maiden for her foolishness and warning her never to do it again. That should set her straight if she has any sense, and if that does not, her parents will most certainly give her a tongue lashing she will not forget for provoking their lord. Should she ever cross the line again, though, you will be more than within your rights to harshly punish her.”

Rumble pressed his lips together for a long moment. “Mayhaps you have a point.” He shrugged. “Alright then, I will give her a warning she will not forget and learn what I can from her.”

“Please inform me if you find out anything important.” I did not like the idea of leaving the innkeepers’ interrogation to Rumble and Freezy, but time was pressing. Whether Roller was actively scheming or a mere victim of some terrible affliction, I doubted he would have told the inn owners where he was running off to. Not when he would have to know we would question his hosts.

“And what are your own plans, if I might ask?” asked Stalwart.

“First and foremost, deal with this infernal poison ivy.”





After Subtle and I departed the others’ company, we made our way to the local healer’s home. As was so often the case in towns such as this, Herbal Remedy’s home was on the edge of Glazing: close enough to service the ponies of the community, but with a distance that made everypony feel safe from what they perceived as a queer craft. Though mayhaps ‘twas merely because such ponies prefered to be a step removed from their community? I had heard it argued both ways. As a whole, magi certainly prefered to keep their space, building their towers that both signified their status and placed them apart from their neighbors.

Herbal Remedy’s house was on the small side compared to most of the homes in Glazing, but in good repair. The particular aroma of her herbal garden drifted to me as we passed through her gate. I stepped up to the front door and knocked. We did not have to wait long before a filly of about ten years of age opened the door. The little unicorn had a lime green coat and an orange mane done up in a braid. She was probably either the apprentice or daughter of the town healer.

Her eyes grew wide as they fell upon me. “Who are you and what happened to you?!”

“Poison ivy. Is thy master home?” I put on the best smile I could despite the incessant itching that now plagued my very being. “For I would very much desire to see her.”

For some queer reason, the little filly squeaked and slammed the door shut. “Iwillgogethernowbye!” I heard the sound of pattering hooves as she ran to do so.

Subtle turned her head to look at me, but then hissed as she looked away again. “Midnight, remember the conversation we had about trying too hard with your smiles?”

“Aye, I have a very good memory. Why do you ask?”

“Because you are doing that right now.” Subtle grimaced as though she were staring into the sun. “Only worse than usual.”

I frowned, since it seemed that my smile was not appealing at the moment. “I am in extreme discomfort right now.”

Subtle stopped grimacing, and a second later her usual smile returned to her features. “Oh, do not be sour. We will work on your smile later. 'Tis a fine one when done right. Now, let us concentrate on what you came here to do. If fate smiles upon us we will find what you wished to discover.”

The door opened again to reveal a unicorn mare with a maroon coat and a mane of grey stripes. The smile on her face evaporated when her eyes fell upon me. “My heavens! My daughter was right, you have a dreadful case of poison ivy!”

I tried to keep mine eye from twitching too much as I addressed the pony I desperately hoped was the town healer. “I wholly agree with thy diagnosis. Can we skip to the treatment for this infernal malady that makes me wish to scratch my skin off?”

“Of course, of course!” Herbal Remedy threw open the door to let the pair of us into her home. “Come on in and we will do what we can for you, milady. Please, place your cloak on the rack so that I can get a good look at you. I am Herbal Remedy, if you did not know. Who are you?”

“Subtle Song,” my companion said with a pleasant smile as she crossed the threshold.

“Magus Midnight, and my thanks.” I entered the room and did as she asked.

A quick glance at the revealed the room to be a mix of a treatment room and alchemy lab. All the tools of Remedy’s trade laid before us, along with a table and chairs, and the shelves lining the walls were lined with potions, salves, bandages and many other odds and ends. It was far more humble than what I was accustomed to, but for a small town healer it likely sufficed.

Remedy hummed as she circled me, a deep frown on her lips. “Oh my. Near half your body has been touched by poison ivy. This is the worst case I have ever seen in all my years. What were you doing, rolling in the stuff?”

“Of course not,” I groused. “I would not wish to make myself dirty rolling about the ground, and considering the fiendish discomfort I suffer I would consider rolling in poison ivy to be the height of madness. Especially when the woods seem to be covered in the damnable plant.”

“Regardless of how you came about it, it has left quite a mark upon you.” Remedy stepped over to a shelf and examined its contents. “Now then, I have a pair of cures that will aid you. One will soothe your discomfort whilst the toxins clear up, and the second will remove the blemishes much more quickly but will be ... mmm, uncomfortable to use.”

“I am already uncomfortable,” I groused. “Give me the stronger medicine.”

“If you are certain.” Remedy pulled a small jar off the shelf. She stopped short of me, looking at the small jar and then at the large splotches of poison ivy that covered my body. “I do not think this will be quite enough for you. But do not worry, I will make more. Quick Remedy!”

The filly who had initially answered the door poked her head out of a nearby doorway. “Yes, Mother?”

Remedy held out the jar to her daughter. “Apply this ointment. I must make some more.”

“Okay!” Quick snatched the jar and ran over to me. “Just hold still, milady, while I rub this onto you.”

“Very well.” I sat down and held still.

The healer’s daughter pulled a glob of ointment and splashed it onto my side. Remedy saw what she was doing out of the corner of her eye and she quickly spoke up. “Quick, not so much as once!”

Quick’s head tilted. “Why?”

I found out why a second later when my body started burning most terribly. Lances of pain shot through my body, and spots flashed over my vision as I struggled not to fall over.

Quick frowned as she watched me writhe in pain. “Oh, that is why.”

Remedy stepped over, her horn glowing. “What have I told thee about taking things more slowly?” She cast a spell which numbed the pain wracking my body. “Mine apologies, but you did desire the stronger medicine.”

“Neigh. ‘Tis … fine,” I said through gritted teeth. “I much prefer the terrible body-wracking pain that feels like my whole body has been set on fire with my flesh being charred with unending screams of agony. ‘Tis preferable to that horrible, horrible itching. Give me more.”

Quick looked up to her mother, and Remedy shrugged, flicking her hoof for her daughter to continue. She applied more of the ointment in a long and painful procedure, but it did at least bring an end to the itching. It was worth it.

Once we were done, Remedy looked me over with the careful eye of a healer. “Feeling better?”

I nodded. “The itching has been supplanted by a dull pain, so I consider it an improvement.”

“The ointment should help clear that up for you.” Remedy put away the empty bottle. “Though in truth, Magus, I am surprised that you did not have any spells to cure yourself. I have little talent with magic. I have always been more skilled with my potions and herbs, but I would have thought the magi would have a spell to clear this right on up.”

“There is, but I, alas, have little talent for the healing arts.” I sighed as I remembered my various failed attempts at using healing magics. The theory behind it was not the issue for me, but ‘twas just something about my magic that could not do it. Admittedly, this was not an unknown problem amongst the magi; unicorns frequently have trouble with magics diametrically opposite to their natural talent. In my case, my talent for magics of the winter night, a time of atrophy, did not lend itself well to healing.

“Hm, a pity then. In that case I think I will give you the kinder medicine while you are here, if you are interested in buying it. It should at least help keep the worst of the itching at bay.”

“I might as well.” I pulled out some bits to pay for the medicine and for her time. “Though I had some other business to attend to while I was here.”

Remedy took the bits and placed them in a small lockbox. “Oh? Was there something else you needed treated?”

“No, not really,” I said. “‘Twas my hope that I could use thine alchemical equipment for a few hours. I have preparations I need to make.”

Remedy bit her lip. “I am not so sure about that. I have a very specific way I like everything, and—”

I jingled my bit purse. “I would of course justly compensate thee for the use of thine equipment and any materials I need.”

Remedy’s eyes lit up as she smiled. “I can see little harm in it. Come on then, I will help you with what you need.” She lead the way to the table where her alchemy equipment rested. “What did you desire?”

I examined the equipment and made a mental list of everything I would need. “First some honey, roseberry, pepper, wax, quirkroot, and alcohol. I need to set up a base compound for the potion I intend to make.”

“I have all of that.” Remedy pulled some jars from her shelves. “Quick, would you be a dear and get some sagewillow from the garden? We might need some later.”

“Okay!” Quick ran for the door. “ I will be right back!”

“Take thy time!” Remedy called after her. After Quick was gone, she shook her head and clicked her head. “That child, always racing back and forth as though there were not a moment to waste.”

Subtle grinned. “Maybe you should have chosen a different name for her?”

Remedy chuckled as she placed what I desired onto the table. “I might have undone myself in that, aye. Do you have any children yourselves?”

Subtle shook her head. “Nah, I have more than enough trouble to deal with without getting myself into more.”

“Neither do I.” Even if the subject of providing an heir to continue my new noble house was going to become a mounting pressure. Probably why Mother was ... becoming interested in my ... socializing.

“That is a pity.” Remedy gave us a warm smile. “I bet a cute couple like you would make for fine parents.”

Subtle giggled and then whispered into mine ear. “She thinks we are a cute couple. My, my, my.”

I blinked. “I—we are not—thou havest the wrong idea! She and I are not ... involved.” I felt my cheeks burn as words failed me.

“Is that so?” Remedy looked between us. “Then how do you know each other?”

“Subtle is my servant,” I was quick to say. “She ... assists me with things.” Blurting out she was a spy would not be the smartest thing I could do, though my brain was stumbling over how best to put our relationship.

“Aaah, now I see.” Remedy nodded her understanding. “I know how it is among the nobility: you wish to be discreet with your private affairs. Do not worry, I am not one to judge. A mare of my profession does not have that luxury, even if I had the inclination.”

Mine eyes widened as I realized her implication. “N-no, we are—”

A most terrible smile crossed Subtle’s lips as she wrapped a leg around my shoulders, unconcerned by the rashes covering my body. “No need to hide it, my love!” She delared with an elaborate flair that would have made a troubadour blush. “Our forbidden love will not be judged out here in the countryside! We can be exactly who we wish to be, and our love for one another unimpeded! I shall sing about it for all to hear!”

I pressed my hoof to her mouth. “Please do not do so. My body is red enough already.”

Remedy covered her mouth and giggled. “Oh, to be young and in love.” Her eyes looked out the window and her ears perked. “One moment, I must see to my daughter’s escapades in the garden.”

“'Tis quite fine, take your time.” Subtle waved as the healer headed outside.

“But, but, but...” I tried to voice an objection, but my mind was frozen as the healer departed, and my cheeks burned terribly.

Subtle leaned in and whispered into mine ear. “Just play along. Have fun for once and live in the moment. There is no harm in it. Besides, learning how to tell a convincing lie is an important skill for a pony such as yourself. Like most skills, it takes practice.”

I narrowed mine eyes. “This is how salacious rumors start.”

Subtle snorted and waved the objection off. “Rumors? Who pays attention to rumors?”

“Spies.”

Subtle rubbed her chin with her free hoof. “True, by that is a far cry from believing a rumor. If anything, creating a few of the right type of rumors will only add to your mystique.”

I raised an eyebrow. “What dost thou mean?”

Subtle shifted her leg to wrap around my waist. “Trust me on this, if nothing else: the common pony will make their own rumors if nothing is provided for them. Ponies love their gossip, and rumor is fuel for the furnace. Why do you think the most scandalous stories make the rounds? Because ‘tis enjoyable to engage in gossip and the more exciting the story the more enjoyable the discussion amongst one’s friends and neighbors is.”

“That does make a certain sense,” I allowed.

“And I would be surprised if your mother did not teach you that rumor can be used as a weapon.”

“She has said something to that effect.” I remembered more than one conversation where Mother had told me how rumor could be used to destroy a rival, and how there was power in committing certain outrageous acts to build a reputation. A single rival utterly destroyed in a public display was better than a score destroyed in secret, at least as far as dissuading others from challenging oneself.

“Then mayhaps you should use what you have been taught?” Subtle grinned. “A rumor or two about your love life, even if untrue, would help capture the hearts of ponies. How many great stories do you know that do not have some love in them? A hero that saves their future spouse, a war hero that returns to their beloved, or starcrossed lovers in a tragedy where all the forces of the universe conspire ‘gainst their love—all these are stories repeated in one form or another through the ages, and that is because they are what sing to the soul.”

“Is that why thou havest added such things to thy ballads?” I was a bit sceptical about that, though Subtle’s motives were somewhat unknown to me. Aye, I knew she worked as a spy for my mother and Her Highness, but beyond that I could only guess. Subtle was always tight-lipped about herself and her motivations, which left me suspicious.

“That is one of the reasons,” Subtle allowed. “Another is that it makes for a better story, but that risks us straying from the topic. My point is that a few of the right rumors could enhance your power and how much ponies are drawn to you.”

“Even if those rumors are false?”

Subtle nodded. “Doubly so. The fact our princess takes no lovers—that we know about anyways—has not stopped ponies from coming up with all sorts of scandalous stories about our sovereign. And even if Her Highness does nothing to promote these rumors, they still occur, and still ponies dream of what it would be like to capture the heart of the most powerful pony in Equestria, even if ‘tis naught but a dream. Though if managed right, that dream can be all the more powerful if it seems attainable.”

I crossed my legs over my chest as I thought over what I was being told. “Such as the idea of gaining my love?”

“Indeed.” Subtle playfully poked my side. “Whether you realize it or not, you are one of the most eligible bachelorettes in Equestria. The daughter of the grand vizier, a noblemare and a pony that has the ear of Princess Celestia herself. ‘Twould be most surprising if there were not ponies considering their chances with you at this very moment.”

Mine eyes narrowed slightly. “Such as yourself?”

Subtle let out a great laugh before she gave me a wide smile. “Mayhaps. Would you like me to try?”

“Um?” I was unsure how to respond to that, her closeness seemed all the more personal than it had been a just a few moments ago. “I am not sure that would be appropriate, considering the circumstances.”

“But its inappropriateness would be half the fun.” Subtle squeezed my side. “As the healer said, many nobles have their little indiscretions, especially when young. Though if you are unsure ... we could always pretend for a bit. Add a rumor or two to the pool.”

“I am not so sure about this idea...”

“Come on, it will be fun.” Subtle waved at the door Remedy had recently departed through. “Just see how it is like for the healer: she already thinks us lovers, so why not pretend just to see what it is like? And as I said, practicing your ability to lie now and again would not hurt.”

I let out a long sigh. “Fine, mayhaps a little lie in this instance will do no harm. But no more.”

Subtle nodded. “We can see after this. Now, relax and enjoy yourself. ‘Twill make it easier. I will lead the way.”

Remedy trotted back in before I could respond. “Sorry about taking so long. The last few weeks have been busy, and I had not realized that the harvesting of the garden had fallen behind. I needed to give my daughter further instructions for some of the more difficult herbs.”

“‘Tis quite alright,” I assured her. “The two of us have just been talking while we waited.”

Remedy looked between the two of us. “Oh, about what?”

“Something you mentioned earlier.” Subtle’s mouth curved into a wry grin as her hoof drifted to my belly. “Namely, how neither of us have a child to call our own.”

“S-Subtle!” My cheeks burned. This is not what we had agreed to. This spy always seemed to find way to confound me.

“What?” Her hoof rubbed my belly in a languid manner. “You need an heir for your house, do you not?”

“That is true, but...” I could not bring myself to look at either mare, mine embarrassment too profound.

Remedy held a hoof to her mouth as she chuckled. “Well, if you do not mind me saying so, Magus, I can confidently say as a midwife that you should be more than capable of bearing foals if you desire it. You are a bit on the small side, but you are in good health and have fine foalbearing hips.”

Subtle’s sides heaved as she barely suppressed an uproarious laugh. “‘T-tis true, you know.”

My jaw dropped as I struggled to respond to this, this ... I did not know what to call it.

“There is no need to be embarrassed by it.” Remedy placed some newly picked herbs on the table. “I know of more than one mare who would be jealous of you. Especially those who desire a large family. You could have it far worse than to have health, wealth, and a loving partner to aid you.”

“And our foal would be sooo cuuute,” Subtle purred.

I pressed a hoof to my face. “I cannot believe I am hearing this.” I pulled myself from Subtle and turned mine efforts to crafting the potions I desired. That struck me as the far safer topic than ... all of this.

Even if there might be some truth to it.

“‘Tis only a natural thing for every mare to consider.” Remedy spoke with a calm and professional tone honed by years of experience being a healer, all while assisting me setting up everything we would need. “Especially one of your age. I have helped bring many a foal into the world, and even carried my beloved daughter, so I would be happy to answer any questions if you have them. I have seen it all, so do not feel like you need to hold anything back from me. Part of my trade involves helping all sorts with every conceivable problem you could imagine. Next to some of the crazier things I have dealt with over the years, pregnancy and foalbirth is outright mundane.”

“I suppose thou wouldst know just about everypony in town then?” I asked, trying to bring the topic of the conversation to something safer territory.

Remedy nodded. “That is so. Whenever somepony gets sick or hurt they come to me, or I go to them.”

I began grinding up a few components gathered, working it to a fine powder. “Might I ask a few questions, then?”

“Not at all,” Remedy said. “As long as ‘tis nothing about what I have treated anypony for, at least. Many ponies like to keep their afflictions secret, as you should know. For whatever reasons, the subject of their health makes ponies become secretive.”

“I could perhaps sympathize,” I said with a sigh.

“Oh relax.” Subtle poked my side. “I was merely teasing. You can do the same to me, for ‘tis all fair game. Of course, some important points have been brought up...”

That was true enough, even if these were subjects I was not entirely comfortable with. But I did not have the luxury to dismiss topics that were embarrassing to me, not when they were of importance to my future and that of my house. Though some suspicious part of me wondered why Subtle had provoked the discussion on heirs and romance. Was trying to seduce me part of some ploy on her part to sneak an heir of her own into House Sparkle’s succession? Mayhaps this was some scheme on Mother’s part? Both were possible. Without knowing Subtle’s true motivations, I could do little more than guess.

I needed to speak with Gale about how best to tease others back. I was wholly on the defensive on this field of battle called teasing and I did not like it. Gale should be able to offer some wisdom on the topic.

“I will keep that in mind.” I put aside tempting thoughts of vengeance to concentrate on what had brought me to the healer’s house in the first place. “Though what I would like to ask about concerns High Roller.”

Remedy stopped to give me her full attention. “What did you wish to know? Is this about the succession? I had heard that you were here to decide that, and then I heard somepony had been killed by some monster last night. I did not know if ‘twas true or a bunch of hogwash.”

“‘Tis true on both accounts,” I said. “A monster slew Shining Quest last night, which is why I wished to make use of thine alchemy equipment. I have a plan by which to bring this monster to heel. Speaking of, could I have some hushwilly and a bit of lillypine?”

“Of course.” Remedy pulled what I required and placed it before me. “It sounds like you are a busy one.”

“So I am.” I finished my mixture and placed it on the burner to heat. “Though I thought I would take this opportunity to ask some questions if you do not mind. Do you know High Roller?”

Remedy nodded. “I did, if not intimately. I was an apprentice in those days, and I assisted my mother as a midwife during his birth. Fortune did not smile upon him, I am afraid—he lost his mother to plague while still very young. (2) A great pity, that. It all but broke Count Stakes’ heart.”

2. This was probably the Red Rasp that ran through Equestria during the relevant time period. While far from the worst plague Equestria has suffered, it claimed a number of lives and necessitated several quarantines before a cure was developed. 

“Did he never remarry?”

“No.” Remedy grabbed a rag to start cleaning some of her instruments. “A few offers were made from a couple fellow noble widows, if memory serves, but he turned them all down. It was not too much of a problem, for he had an heir in Roller. But...”

“Roller disappeared,” I finished for her.

Remedy nodded. “Roller always seemed to find his way to me for one misfortune or another, even as a colt. Multiple broken limbs, a riled up beehive on one occasion, attacked by swans on another. That colt was a bit too adventurous for his own good. When he did not return to us after the end of the war...” She sighed.

“Have you seen the pony claiming to be Roller?”

Remedy shook her head. “I have not. After the first fake attempted to pass himself as the count’s son, I never went out of my way to see others.”

“I see.” I carefully watched my bubbling potion as I considered my next question. “It seems that the late count found a lover, since Snowfall was born of his affair with the head of his bodyguard.”

“That is so,” Remedy confirmed. “Love blossoms in the strangest ways sometimes, and the both of them were as happy with her birth as any other parents I have seen.”

“Pity the father will not get to see his daughter reach maturity then,” I said.

Remedy’s ears wilted. “Aye, a sad thing that. ‘Tis a hard thing for a child to lose a parent.” Her eyes flicked outside, though briefly.

“I believe ‘twas said he had a bad heart?” I probed. “It sounds like his death was not too sudden or unexpected.”

“That is so.” Remedy set about reorganizing her shelves. “I had been carefully treating him, but ‘twas a lost cause from the start. His health had never been robust, and we had had a few scares over the years, but he had always recovered in the past. But I had seen enough ponies on death’s door to know when a pony was not fated to recover, and knew that was the point we had reached with Count Stakes.”

“Wert thou when he passed then?”

Remedy shook her head. “Neigh, I had been pulled away that night when Honeycrisp went into labor. The count even encouraged me to go. After all, we all knew that there was little I could do for him.” Her shoulders sagged. “Pity, there might have been something I could have done for him when he started to pass, but ‘twas probably best this way. As Freezy said, he passed peacefully in his sleep, and there are far worse ways to go.”

“I can think of many,” I agreed. “Such as being attacked by a hungry swarm of spiders who crawl all over thee as they bite into your flesh with poisoned fangs, causing indescribable burning as fever eventually claims you whilst the spiders rip off tiny pieces of your flesh one little bite at a time. I imagine ‘tis a terrible way to die.”

Remedy’s mouth hung half open as she stared at me with a most confused expression on her face. Odd, I thought I had been quite clear in my point. “Err, yes.”

Subtle cleared her throat and took me by the leg. “Midnight, you are doing that thing we talked about again.”

I frowned. “Which thing? We have spoken of many things.”

Subtle sighed. “Mayhaps you should ask one of the other things you wished to ask while we are here?”

“Oh, very well.” I huffed, frustrated for not understanding what had everypony acting so oddly. “Did thou hearest anything of if Count High wished to declare Snowfall his heir? His death was imminent, so surely he must have said something about who should succeed him.”

“Hm, he said nothing I could hear.” Remedy worked at tying up some of the herbs she had just brought into the house to dry them. “Though most ponies figured Count High was going to declare Snowfall his heir sooner or later, unless he picked one of his cousins. He never seemed to like to talk about it, either way.”

It seemed that Count High Stakes was determined to leave the question of succession murky right up to his death. Or mayhaps he did not like any of the choices available to him? Whatever the truth, he kept it close to his chest. “And who would the ponies of Honeyfield like to see as their new count?”

Remedy hummed and her eyes drifted to the ceiling. “Everypony has their own opinions, but most just want somepony that will leave them alone while keeping them safe. Most are more concerned with the Compact being maintained than anything else, since it is what lines their coinpurses.” She sighed and shook her head. “Truth be told, our late count ... had a soft heart—probably too soft. He was the sort to keep to himself most of the time and did not bother anypony, which suited most of the ponies here just fine.”

“But there was a problem?” I asked as I finished setting up the ingredients for another potion.

Remedy blew a lock of her mane out of her face and nodded. “He did fine when times were peaceful. Ponies went to Rumble whenever a monster needed dealt with, and to Emeraud or the mayor whenever they had a disagreement that needed sorting. But when Honeyfield needed a leader...” She shook her head. “Things fell apart during the Rebellion, and I mean they got really bad. Between the militias fighting one another, the bushwhacking that went on and on, and the pegasi bandits that showed up later, a mare hardly felt like she could leave her home safely. I knew I did not. Not when I was carrying Quick at the time, and especially after her sire had been killed during the initial fighting.”

I tilted my head. This was the first time I had really heard anypony speak poorly of the count. “And Count High did nothing during this time?”

She shook her head. “I do not think he knew what to do. Ponies asked him to end the violence, at least once the rebels were pushed away from Canterlot, but he did nothing helpful. ‘Twas not ‘til Rumble returned that things got better, for he went about hanging every rebel that was causing trouble.” Her voice dropped to speak in a whisper. “You did not hear this from me, but rumors say that Rumble hired some of the pegasi bandits as guards to help return order to the land. They certainly played their part in hunting down their kin, as well as the malcontents who set the countryside ablaze.”

Something in Subtle’s eyes twinkled. “Oh my, how scandalous.”

“It got the job done.” Remedy shrugged. “Though ‘twas not ‘til the Royal Guard showed up and hanged anypony going about bushwhacking, rebel or loyalist, that things really settled all the way down.”

“It sounds like Honeyfield went through a very difficult time,” I said, trying to sound sympathetic. ‘Twas a story I had heard many time before in one form or another; between divided loyalties over who should be their chancellor, old family grudges, conflicts between the magnates and their sharecroppers, and a million personal feuds besides, the countryside had been a tinderbox waiting to be set on fire. The signing of some piece of paper signaling the end of hostilities meant little to ponies with scores to settle. Returning peace to the land had not been an easy task for the Royal Guard after the war’s end.

“In truth, what I desire is a count strong enough to keep anything like that from happening again.” Remedy went to the window to look out at her daughter, who was busy working in the herbal garden. “I do not want my daughter to have to go through such terrible times like that. She already lost a father she will never know to war, and she does not deserve to lose her innocence or worse to another one.”

“I can sympathize with that sentiment.” After all, I knew how cruel the madness of war could be to children. “How about we switch to a different topic? This one has soured on me.”

“I would not mind doing so.” Subtle shifted to my side and pecked my cheek, returning to that role she had assigned herself. “I liked better what we previously discussed.”

Remedy turned to give me a brittle smile. “That sounds best to me. Did you have anything in mind? Since it seems we have a bit more work to do before we will be done here.”

“There was one last thing I wished to discuss with thee,” I confirmed. “I wanted to know if thou havest been giving any medicines to any of the ponies in the Honeyfield Guard.”

Remedy shook her head. “I must remind you that I do not talk about the treatments I give my patients.”

“Aye, I know that, but there is a reason I ask.” I retrieved a potion from my saddlebags and gave it Remedy. “I might wish to give those guardponies one of my potions, such as this one that stanches bleeding. ‘Tis unlikely, but I wish to make sure that none of them will react poorly with your own concoctions,” I lied. “Though on my word as a magus, I promise not to tell a soul about anything you tell me relating to their health.”

Remedy pressed her lips together. “I suppose there is little harm in it. Speartip is taking some Soothing Respite to help with his arthritis, Rainy Cloud is still taking Rallying Mending to deal the pain from her broken wing, Bitter Blown has some of mine ointment for—well, a trip to the town brothel. Oh, and Captain Freezy is taking some Sweet Dreams tonic to help her sleep.”

I cocked an eyebrow when she mentioned the last one. “Is that not a rather potent tonic for such a purpose?” Sweet Dreams was normally only used when a pony was in great pain or suffering from some other malady.

Remedy shuffled. “‘Tis not something I would normally make, but Freezy asked for it specifically. She had been having trouble sleeping, you see—her lover dying was causing her no small anxiety, and worries about Stakes and the fate of her daughter kept her up at night. She swore that Sweet Dreams was the only thing that let her rest, so I carefully measured out single doses into individual bottles and gave them to her with careful instructions.”

“I see.” My gaze shifted to the shelves. “Might I look at the medicines you are proscribing to these ponies? I wish to examine them to see if they might interfere with my potions.”

“I do not see any harm in it.” She pulled the medicines from the shelves I requested. “None of it is anything special. Most of what I use is from the books I read, along with a few local medicines that have been passed down the generations.”

“Sensible enough.” I began scanning each bottle with my magic. “And is Rumble taking anything?”

Remedy snorted. “I have seen to him twice in his life. Once when he caught the pony pox as a child, and once some time ago when a rebel tried to carve him up with a dagger as he was putting order to the county. That pony has the constitution of a dragon, I tell you. I will be surprised if anything but old age kills him.”

“Quite the opposite of his cousin then?”

“Oh yes,” Remedy confirmed. “Rumble is always one to hide what he is feeling under a coat of bluster, but ‘twas not hard to tell when something bothered him, and his cousin fading before him was difficult for him. ‘Tis probably why he went on one of his hunting trips when the count was fading. Some ponies might call that callous, but everypony deals with death in different way, and some just need distance from it. Especially when ‘tis as long as drawn out as it was with the count. Not that anypony knew exactly when the count would pass at that point.”

I finished examining the medicines and mentally noted what I had discovered. “And what of Snowfall, does she have any maladies I should be aware of?”

Remedy shook her head, returning her medicines to their shelves. “Neigh, she takes after her mother and uncle. She has always been a healthy little child, and near as I can tell she shares none of her father’s weakness of the heart.”

“That is good to hear.” I returned to my potions to see them nearing completion. “I think that is the end of my questions for now.”

“Glad to be of assistance.” Remedy smiled warmly. “Though if you do not mind me asking mine own questions while we work…?”

“‘Twould be rude to otherwise,” I allowed.

Subtle smiled with an impish air. “Sure, I love to answer questions.”

“So, how did you two meet?” Remedy asked with far more innocence than the question deserved.

Subtle’s smile widened all the more as she wrapped a leg around me and began her story. When the opening details left me blushing, I knew ‘twould be a long wait for nightfall.