//------------------------------// // Chapter 12 // Story: The Carnivore Council // by CreativeOverflow //------------------------------// “What! No Reward?” Sunny whined, kicking the ground with her hoof. Two guard ponies finished loading the bandit leader into the back of a prison wagon with the rest of his compatriots. “Sorry, love. These guys were pretty new to the scene, not a lot of reputation I’m afraid. The sad fact is, this lot couldn’t pull a heist in a blind mare’s jewellery store.” The guards locked the heavy iron gate and quickly hitched themselves to the wagon. In a short minute they pulled the wagon back onto the road and headed back towards Ponyville. The trio watched them leave while Sunny muttered personal grievances under her breath. As soon as they were out of sight, Remedy turned to Tradewind and said, “I’m starting to get worried. Faolan should have been back hours ago.” Tradewind frowned for a moment. “Sunny and I will go scout; see if we can find him. You stay here in case he returns. If we don’t find anything, we’ll meet back here in an hour.” “But I want to go help look. What if he’s in trouble?” said Remedy. “We can scout faster. Besides, if he does return, what would he think coming back to an empty campsite?” Tradewind placed a hoof on Remedy’s shoulder. “Look I’m sure he’s ok. This is all new territory for him. I’m sure he just got turned around. As soon as we find anything we’ll come back straight away. That right Sunny?” Sunny nodded and gave a crisp salute, “Aye Aye Capi-tan.” Tradewind pressed his forehead against Remedy’s. “We’ll be back in no time. Sit tight, ok?” The concerned frown on Remedy’s face didn’t falter, but she conceded nonetheless with an irritated sigh, “Ok. One hour!” Tradewind nodded, and the two pegasi leapt into the air and flew away. The regular drumming of hooves on packed earth interrupted the soothing malaise of grey that clouded Faolan’s head. He squinted his eyes open and was rewarded with the garish light of day and a sharp pain that coursed through his brain. He clenched them shut again and waited for the pain to subside. He tried again, this time the light only provoked a dull throbbing. He blinked a few times to clear some lingering bright spots. Scenic countryside slowly drifted past behind iron bars to the gentle rhythmic squeak of poorly greased wheels. Faolan let his eyes wander. In front, a quartet of muscular ponies pulled an open wagon carrying rolls of heavy canvas, poles and wooden crates. His cage was hitched to it and a heavy iron padlock secured its solitary wrought iron gate. Behind him, two similar cages were hitched to the train. In the furthest he saw a trio of cats - a black leopard, an old tiger, and a very thin lion. The lion paced the length of his tiny cage, muttering to himself. Faolan’s neighbouring cell had a single resident orthrus. One of its heads chewed hungrily on a length of chain as if it were a bone. Its second head looked, bored, out over the landscape. Faolan slowly rose to his feet, the throbbing in his head intensified and he groaned. “And the sleeping beauty awakes. Your first time under the songstress’ spell no doubt.” The more intelligent looking head regarded Faolan casually. Faolan rubbed his head to placate the swarm of angry hornets currently nesting in it. “Where am I?” “Welcome to Big Top’s circus of daring feats and dangerous predators. Well, that’s if you believe the sign on the side of the wagon. Not that much predation goes on here mind you. I believe it’s used to rile up the customers imaginations. Make it seem more exciting and exotic you see.” “What do they want with us?” “Why a performance my dear boy, of course,” said the lion, his face and body pressed against the bars. The wild look in his eye and slight tremble on his curling smile betrayed an alarming zeal for the idea. For a moment it looked like his gaunt frame might actually slip between the bars. He bounced off the cage causing the bars to rattle and landed in a wide stance, one thin paw splayed and its tips pressed to his chest. “We have a duty to our adoring fans. A ferocious display of feral power, and savage grace.” He spun on the spot and let his body fall to the floor. He arched his back, lifted his slender shoulders off the ground on one front leg and threw his head back to stare into the heavens while his other paw clutched at his heart. “The audience gasps and leans forward on the edge of their seats. Death seems imminent at any moment. They can’t bare to watch, and yet cannot look away. A crescendo of drama; the pounding drums intensify. A climax of spectacle builds as the orchestra races to keep pace. Suddenly, a mighty roar, the lights go out, and silence falls.” The lion collapsed, panting heavily. His paws covered his face with one claw pulling at his lip. A deeply mad chuckle bubbled out and he slowly stretched out one of his paws, as if trying to grasp the sky itself. “Like the first splash of rain, applause trickles then roars. The crowd goes wild,“ he finished in a breathless whisper. A series of delighted gurgles followed as the lion writhed on the floor of his cage in apparent ecstasy. Faolan frowned and raised an eyebrow at the orthrus. It shrugged. “So you ‘perform’ for the ponies. Why?” asked Faolan. “It’s not so bad,” said half the orthrus – the other half was still occupied with gnawing on its chains. “We are generally well taken care of, as long as we behave. We don’t have our freedom, but I guess it’s the price we pay for leaving the sanctuary of the forest.” “You all left the forest willingly? While I can understand you might as one of the chaos touched” – Faolan, nodded at the orthrus – “but what about you lot? You broke the oath,” he said, addressing the slothful felines in the rear cage. The old tiger sneered, “Hrmph, what good is the oath when you starve because of it. We took our chances in the pony lands and we have brothers and sisters who’ve met far worse fates. We, are the survivors.” “Survivors. You like being locked in a cage?” The black leopard spoke up, “of course freedom would be nice, but after breaking the oath we can’t return to the forest. And if we’re captured by pony guards we’d be either killed or relocated into the forest which is much the same. At least here, we can live.” Faolan snorted bitterly. “The cat prides I know wouldn’t stand to be some ponies pet play things. No matter the cost.” The lion slowly rose from his ecstasy and took gentle repose against the cage. “You judge us, but what are YOU doing outside the forest. The ponies won’t stand to enter it, so it stands to reason that you must’ve left too.” “I, am on a mission for the council. I’m supposed to be delivering a message to Celestia.” The orthrus laughed. “And you expected to just walk in? Can’t say that was very bright lad.” “No, of course not. I am not stupid. I had a pony escort, however I was separated from them and I was ambushed by a deranged unicorn.“ “Ah,” the orthrus smiled as if recalling a fond memory, “the ineluctable Mr. Brumby. Resident wrangler and purveyor of dangerous creatures. Don’t feel bad about it lad, he inevitably catches all off guard the first time.” “And what of the other one. The mare who played music. She did something to my head,” said Faolan, rubbing his still tender temple. “Soul Song, our dream muse. Minstrel of our bittersweet memories. Her music plays on your heart-strings and your mind is quickly vacated from the premises. Ultimately, they are our captors and gatekeepers. With them both in play, escape is futile.” “Yet it seems the fat one is holding both their leashes.” The lion scraped the back of a claw across his iron bars. “Big Top, he’s the ringmaster. Leader of this little circus of excitement. He’s the one that directs the performances we must learn, and makes our lives unpleasant if we don’t.” “I assume you’re not going to cooperate?” the leopard interjected. “Cooperate? Of course not. I am no pony’s pet.” The tiger sighed a sad little sigh. “We all start out like that. You’ll change. We all did; once you find out what happens if you don’t.” “And what happens if I–” “G’day fella’s. Ah, our new friend is awake.” Faolan jumped sideways, the tan hunter, Brumby, had somehow trotted right up to his cage undetected and he was still as irritatingly effervescent as ever. Faolan growled at him. Brumby chuckled. “No hard feelings mate. I know we didn’t get off to the best start, but trust me. It’s for the best. We’re on the road today, set out a bit earlier than usual. Orders from the Top.” He slowed his pace allowing the wagons to roll past. “I trust the rest of you are travelling well. All fed and rested?” The sound of hooves on wooden crates caught Faolan’s ears. Soul Song trotted along the top of the open wagon ahead and waved at Brumby. She carried her twisted flute in a silk sling strapped to her side. Faolan glared at her. She glared back down her muzzle at him. Brumby cantered up, and leapt onto her carriage.  “Hey Song, what’s up?” Soul Song pointed at Faolan and then stroked her neck. “Aww c’mon. Not yet, Song. He’s still getting used to it all. I mean he’s just woken up for Celestia’s sake,” Brumby whined. Soul Song frowned at him and patted her head with her hoof. “Big Top? He’s not planning to start training today is he?” She gave an indifferent shrug. Brumby took off his wide brim hat and swept his mane back under it before settling it back low on his brow. “Not good. He’s in no state of mind to be cooperative. I’ve got a bad feeling about this.” Soul Song scowled and patted her head again; more vigorously this time. “Yeah, Luv, I know.” Brumby jumped down and trotted along next to Faolan’s cage. “Sorry mate. I know you’re not going to like it but we need to put you back to sleep for a while.” Faolan barked and snarled at the stallion, “Tartarus take you!” Brumby looked pitifully at the wolf then stepped away with a nod to Soul Song. Soul Song unwrapped her flute, it’s gruesome design made more horrific by the bright light of day. It curved slightly and was thick and lumpy at one end with a large ruby gemstone set in the middle of the thickest part of it’s leathery exterior. Ribs of dried cartilage banded the tapering instrument with lengths of gut-cord strapping the grizzly creation to a carved wooden spine. A dozen holes were drilled along its length and a carved, wooden mouthpiece was grafted to it’s narrow end. Soul Song lifted the flute to her mouth. “I swear, one day, you will all pay for this,” Faolan growled. A sad sweet melody rose over the air. Tradewind pushed apart some bushes. “It’s just here.” Remedy stepped through and gasped, “Sunny, wait. You don’t want to–” Sunny pushed past. “What? Oh no!” she cried. The mangled, bloody remains of the rabbit lay strewn over the ground. The head and a leg still identifiable. “Sunny, Sunny! Look at me!” Remedy grabbed Sunny’s faced and turned it away. “Just breathe.” Sunny trembled, tears forming in the corners of her eyes. “It’s a bunny,” she whimpered. “I know, but just breathe. I know it’s hard.” “A poor defenseless bunny.” “Focus Sunny. We need to find where he went.” Tears streamed down Sunny’s face, and her breaths were choked. “What if she had a family? Cute little baby rabbit kittens. They’ll starve without her!” Remedy wrapped Sunny in a tight hug. “It’s cruel I know. That’s the way they are. That’s why we’re doing this. So they can stay in the forest and won’t come out and kill. So come on now. Bite back your tears. We need to find him before anything worse happens.” Sunny wiped at the tears on her face and stuttered in short broken gasps, “I’m al-alright but it must have been horrible for you in that forest.” Remedy smiled weakly, and rubbed Sunny’s shoulders. “Go catch Trade, look for clues.” She gently pushed Sunny towards Tradewind just beyond the next wall of bushes; her body between Sunny and the corpse. After Sunny had left. Remedy looked back at the ruined rabbit. She could feel the sting of tears welling in her eyes. She grimaced and pinched her eyes shut. Carefully, with one hoof, she pawed at the ground; digging a shallow grave. Tradewind looked back, sympathetically, at Sunny as she wandered up. She was still fighting back lingering sobs. “Look, wagon tracks. I think Faolan might have been captured.” Sunny took a large slobbery sniff and blinked away her remaining tears. “Captured? who would try and capture a wolf? Guards?” “I don’t think so. I’d expect more signs of a struggle. But it looks like he was taken unharmed, more or less.” Remedy pushed through the shrubbery, her head bowed to hide her teary eyes. Tradewind noticed the dirt and blood crusting her hooves. “Oh Remedy, I’m sorry, I should have–” “It’s alright. He was entrusted to me, it’s only right that I clean up after him.” Sunny ran over and wrapped her arms around Remedy. Tradewind took a cloth and a canteen out of his saddle bags. He wet the cloth and gently cleaned her hooves while she silently wept. “It, ah, looks like we’ve found some wagon tracks,” said Tradewind as he quietly put away his canteen and soiled rag, “I think he’s been captured. Unharmed it seems. At least we have a trail.” Remedy pressed her forehead against Trade and Sunny’s and closed her eyes. “Thank you. Both of you. I’m really glad you came along.” Remedy took a deep breath and gently separated herself from Sunny. “Well, I guess we better go and save his sorry hide. Celestia knows no one else will.” Sunny sniffed then chuckled. “What kind of sorry wolf gets captured by ponies anyway.” “The tracks lead this way. Hopefully they haven’t gone far,” said Trade, pointing south. The wind picked up and ushered the trio forward in pursuit of their lost charge. It quaked the overhead boughs and bobbed the single daisy now planted on a small mound of freshly tilled earth behind them. A simple stone serving as headstone and marker. Collecting garbage was a thankless job, but the work was easy and it allowed you to stay outdoors, which suited Slim Pickens fine. The green stallion was poking his way through a particularly dense cluster of discarded popcorn packets when a bright yellow head burst through the bush next to him. He fell back on his haunches, dropping his trash bag. “Hello,” said Sunny. Remedy’s head popped out next to hers. “Oh C’mon. We’re back in Ponyville!?” Sunny stumbled out of the bush and addressed the confused groundskeeper. “Have you seen a wolf around here?” Remedy also extracted herself from the bush. “Or a wagon that could hold one?” Slim picked himself up and dusted himself. “If you girls are after the circus, I’m afraid you’re too late.” “The Circus?” they said in unison. Slim rummaged through his trash bag and pulled out a butter stained poster, offering it to Remedy. Tradewind fell through the bushes. “Oof.” Remedy scanned the poster. ”The Circus! Look. It says here that they have an exhibition of dangerous wild predators. He must have been captured for the circus. At least that means he’s alive. He won’t like it though.” Remedy handed off the poster to Sunny and Tradewind. “When did they leave? Do you know where they went?” she asked Slim. “They left early, at the crack of dawn. I think they were heading up Canterlot road.” “Horsefeathers!” Remedy cursed. “We’ve spent all day tracking this wagon, and they’re likely already in Canterlot. We need to get there quick.” “Short of a pegasus chariot, the train will likely be quickest. We can take it now that Faolan isn’t with us,” said Trade. The trio galloped off towards the train station. Sunny stopped and waved goodbye to Slim. He waved back. “Wow, they must really like the circus.” Faolan woke with a start. Cold water dripped down his face. “Ah, there he is. I trust you slept well?” the familiar cruel grin of the overweight stallion greeted him. He stood in his full regalia: red top hat, red coat with long tails and shiny brass buttons. The ensemble completed with an immaculate jewelled whip strapped to his side. Faolan noticed a tightness around his neck. He scratched at it with a paw. A thick band of metal girded his throat, and he could feel the cold smooth touch of polished crystal embedded in its surface. A jewelled collar to match his new masters whip. Faolan scratched at it frantically with his hind leg. “No use I’m afraid,” said Big Top. “That collar is magically sealed. It won’t open so long as I want it closed.” “I’ve got a really bad vibe about this,” mumbled Brumby, his normally cheerful demeanour, serious. “You need to let him settle in before you try training him.” “This is Canterlot,“ the ringmaster hissed at his handler, “We need to freshen up the act. These stiff necked fancy ponies have very shallow attention spans and very deep pockets. If we can get them in to see the never before seen new ferocious predator it’s sure to rake in the bits. Just look at him. He’s in his prime. Magnificent.” “That’s what I’m saying. He IS in his prime, and he’s pissed and well rested, not to mention hungry. It’s too dangerous.” Big Top growled at Brumby, “If I wanted your opinion, I’d have it surgically removed. Now raise the damn shield. I want this wolf performing by tomorrow night.” Brumby reluctantly bowed his head, “You’re the boss. You know the rules. Two wills enter; one will leaves.” “Yes, yes. Now stop babbling and do your job.” Brumby frowned, but with a glow from his horn the familiar grey shield flamed up around the wagon. Big Top rolled his shoulders and smirked at his grim-faced employee. “Now let me show you how it’s done.” Faolan immediately fell into a defensive crouch as soon as the familiar grey wall flared up. His ears swivelled on his head and his muscles were tensed. He glared at the gaudy stallion when he entered through the crackling field opposite him. Big Top smirked at the smouldering wolf. “Now you’ll have to excuse our accelerated time schedule – time waits for nopony. So let me make this perfectly clear and simple. I tell you to jump, you jump. I tell you to sit, you sit. I tell you to roll over and play dead, then I best be calling for someone to dig a hole from the conviction of your performance. Make no mistake, that WILL be the outcome of today. The only decision you get to make, is how hard it will be before you comply.” Faolan growled, “I am NO pony’s pet.” Big Top grinned and yelled over his shoulder, “Open the gate!” He unbuckled his whip and a metal pin holding the iron gate was yanked away by a thin cord. The gate slowly swung open. Faolan slowly, cautiously, made his way down the ramp. His eyes locked on the fat pony. He slowly circled to the opposite side of the dome. Big Top shook the coils of his whip loose. “Lesson 1: Sit.” Faolan growled back. “I said, sit!” Faolan barked at the pony, “I will NEVER submit to you or ANY OF YOUR KIND!” Faolan charged the pony, teeth bared and intentions plain. Big Top casually swung the dreaded lash, and let its tip fly towards Faolan. Faolan easily ducked, the whipping tendril streaking close by. A flash of white hot pain rocketed through his body. The very force of it knocked him back against the back wall of the dome. His neck burned like it was on fire. Big Top grinned and chuckled wickedly, “Lesson 0: Do as I say, or else.“ Faolan whimpered and quickly staggered to his feet. The area around the collar on his neck stung like a fiery brand and – was it his imagination or was it actually wafting smoke? The ringmaster casually inspected his whip. “You see now, this whip is special. A friend of mine made it –” Big Top fixed Faolan with a wicked glare, grinning “– Or should I say. It was made from a friend of mine. He always wanted to be part of the circus. So I tanned his hide and had it made into this special whip. It along with that collar you’re wearing form a very special bond. The magical gems set into both, are cursed. Misery Gems they call them. Found in pairs, sisters. They never find themselves far apart. But together they cause a monstrous agony to any living thing in their proximity. Misery, after all, loves company.” Big Top tapped his chin, pondering an afterthought, “Maybe I should have opened with that explanation. But then, you lot never listen anyway.” His cold steely glare focused back on Faolan. “Now where was I? Oh yes... sit!”