The Ghost of Coltistrano

by EthanClark


Chapter 9: “We have survived worse”

The massive doors before him were cracked open. From within, a cacophony of voices and chattering came forward into the hallway. Shield Wall stood perplexed. In an aura of magic he lifted the document again: a memo, sent by the Office of the Princess, to invite all leading nobility to an impromptu meeting in the throne room. He lifted his head from the parchment and took a peek inside.

Within the throne room was quite the crowd. Everypony from the General’s Board to castle managers were there, mingling with each other in a cloud of shared confusion. Shield Wall tensed a bit, slowly placing a hoof onto the door and pushed it open. The talking rose to full volume as the vice general entered. The throne room was unadorned, save for the usual sconces of flowers and white drapery. Along the sides were rows of chairs and seating pillows, as well as tables of refreshments closer to the throne itself. Many of the faces Shield Wall recognized, though he did his best to avoid eye contact.

“You too, Vice General?”

From behind him, Shield Wall saw the hulking warmaster approach. His turquoise coat had faded, somewhat, over the years, but his stature remained just as imposing. Shield Wall forced a smile.

“Yes, sir,” he said. “It seems we all have been brought to this little ‘surprise party’. Though, I trust there is some purpose to it.”

“If it’s the princess, then there is always a purpose.” Frontline stated, plainly. Shield Wall scoffed under his breath before another voice rang out over the crowd.

“Ladies and gentlecolts, please take your seats,” said a mare with dark-rimmed glasses that Shield recognized as Raven Inkwell. “The Princesses have arrived.”

Almost immediately, the ponies in the room rushed to their seats. The military personnel seated themselves first, followed by the royally-appointed Advisory Board, and lastly by the remainder of the attendants present. Shield’s eyes followed a rather chubby pegasus hurriedly waddling to his seat, holding a mass of concessions in his wings. A silent groan was all Shield could utter at the display, but once all were finally seated, the doors behind the throne opened. 

Princess Celestia and Princess Luna made their way out into the throne room. They stood tall, adorned with glittering and uncannily polished raiment bedecked in gold and blue, respectively, their manes flowing like autumn wind as they strode down the steps to the floor. Behind them was another, a unicorn of pure white, that followed to their side. The rows of ponies all stood and bowed before their rulers, some muttering prayers while others remaining completely silent. Celestia looked over the crowd and raised her hoof.

“At ease, everypony.” In an instant the rows of ponies returned to their seats, their eyes fixed upon the two princesses. Shield Wall, however, strayed his gaze and scanned for Midnight Gavel, seated toward the front on the other side of the room.

“My sister, Luna, and I are sorry to have called this meeting on such short notice. It is, however, of great importance.” Celestia turned her head to Luna, who nodded.

“Indeed,” Luna began, taking a step forward. “Our first order of business is to thank each and every one of you for your unflinching service to the crown in the face of Tirek’s onslaught. Your bravery and loyalty are beyond appreciated and will be remembered.”

The guests began to applaud, clapping their hooves and stomping the ground before Luna raised a hoof, silencing them. 

“However, while Celestia’s office is concerned with the restoration effort in the areas afflicted the worst, my office has been tasked with ensuring our defences are appropriate for another such event. Therefore, I call upon the cooperation of each and every one of you during this internal review of your charges.”

Shield Wall’s posture snapped straight at this. From across the room, he caught Midnight’s gaze meeting his own.

“To ensure the accuracy and such an assessment, we have called upon and outside source to advise in this investigation. Ladies and gentlecolts, I present Miss Rarity, the Element of Generosity.”

Rarity stepped forward to meet the applause, giving a small bow.

“Thank you very much, princess,” she began in a refined tone. “I am most honored to assist your highness and all of you in such an important matter. To think of all that blasted ruffian, Tirek, did to Ponyville, why, I simply could not refuse the chance to clean up his mess. I promise to do all I can in making Equestria a safer place.”

While the ponies around him watched with smiles and rapt attention, Shield Wall felt a heat rising to his ears and a sickening tingle rush through his body. He looked to Midnight again, who could only close his eyes and tense his brow. Other nobles, who Shield recognized from their secret meetings, seemed to bounce in their seats at Rarity’s declaration. 

“Of course, ‘tis why you have been summoned,” Luna interjected. “For the sake of an honest evaluation we command this meeting be kept secret from your underlings, but the Investigations Bureau will be present under our authority. Do your best to give them your cooperation.”

A conglomerate sound of affirmation rose almost in unison. Celestia took a step before her sister, a warm smile across her face.

“My little ponies, we thank you for your willingness to help make Equestria safer. I can only hope we never have to face such a terrible threat again, but knowing we have such dedicated ponies like yourselves gives me hope. Thank you, all, you are dismissed, and we very much look forward to seeing you all at the Grand Galloping Gala.”

The crowd of ponies moved around Shield Wall, blurring his sight. The heat in his ears had not yet died down. As he stood he made a beeline to Midnight Gavel, pulling him aside and out of the room. The two unicorns walked at a quickening pace through the thinning crowd. They exchanged glances, but chose not to speak until they made their way to the west wing of the palace, up to Shield Wall’s office. Shield stamped down the hall before Gavel and waved the door open with his magic, allowing his friend to enter before almost slamming it shut. He turned to Gavel and, with a breath, condensed his welling anger and frustration into a single word.

“Buck.”

“This is certainly sudden,” Gavel said, “but not unexpected. Don’t forget the review after the changeling invasion. They investigated every department for signs for imposters and saboteurs. We have survived worse.”

“Yes, yes, but now they have her,” Shield huffed, stepping over to his desk. “Before it was easy. We could either threaten, buy off, or simply ‘off’ the investigators if they got too close, but she’s a damned hero. An icon. Did you see how the nobility practically fawned over her?”

Shield Wall produced the crystal decanter from his desk and poured two glasses, floating one to Gavel. He downed his own in one, swift gulp, not even flinching at the sting in this throat.

“Pathetic,” Shield punctuated.

“How is it any different? Miss Rarity is certainly famous, but she’s hardly a threat to the mission. I cannot fathom one unicorn would do so much as to unravel years of meticulous planning in a few weeks.”

“It is not about what she will do, it is about what she will inspire,” Shield Wall began. “Picture it, Midnight: we work our hooves to the bone plotting, funding, and gathering backers to our righteous cause. We give them security and promise of profit in return for their support, then along comes the Princesses talking about their own form of ‘security’ while promoting it all with a national hero as a mascot.”

“Are you saying we will lose support to this?”

“Oh yes, indeed, because now they are not afraid. With Celestia and Luna addressing their fears, the nobility will side with them simply out of adoration and, to my disappointment, convenience.”

Shield downed another glass as Midnight stood in thought. After a few moments of silence he spoke.

“Without the support of the nobility the plan is ruined, not to mention they may feel emboldened enough to talk. Fancy Pants, surely, would be the first. What do we do?”

Shield abandoned the decanter and walked to the window at the back of his office. With a flash he opened the window wide, allowing the wind and sounds of the city into the room. There he stood. His gaze became half-lidded, his breathing slowed. In his mind, he traced over the events of the day, following each and every pathway to a possible conclusion. Just on the peripheral of his trance, Shield Wall could hear the creaking of the floor behind him, where he calculated the distribution of weight. Outside, he watched the many passersby. From their lips he could read conversations about departmental reviews, the prices at The Tasty Treat, jokes about an imperfect golf game. His ears twitched and spun at every noise around him, unconsciously. 

Midnight stood behind him, patiently staring. It was these trances his friend would enter that Gavel admired so much. He took a few steps to the desk, earning no reaction from Shield Wall, save a twitch of his ear. He poured a little more from the decanter as Shield’s mouth began to emit a soft mumbling.

Almost imperceptibly, Shield Wall vocalized his options and available methods. Within his entranced rambling were the sounds of mind control, extortion, a framing for Grogar worship, all of which Gavel knew they had the resources to achieve. 

Halfway through another sip Gavel jolted at the sound of the window slamming shut. He coughed, sputtering from the surprise and the burn in his windpipe.

“Midnight,” Shield said calmly. “I need you to contact Serenade.”

“Alright,” Gavel replied through the last of his coughs. “Shall I send a letter or-”

“Use the stone.”

“The stone?” Gavel asked, a wash of worry on his face. “Direct communication is risky, especially in the palace. It could be intercepted, or worse.”

“We do not have the luxury of time. Do you have it?”

“Yes, yes,” Gavel replied. He dug into his personal bag and, after rummaging for a few seconds, produced a smooth, jet black stone with a white sigil on the front. He placed the stone on the desk before Shield Wall, who took his seat. Shield waved his hoof over the stone, bringing a bright light from the sigil and over the desk. After a few moments the light twisted and swirled into the face of Serenade.

“Yes, Mr. Wall,” the image said. “How might I assist you?”

“Where are we with the recruiting?” Shield Wall’s tone had shifted from calm to cold in an instant. “I was promised a standing strength report last week and I need those numbers now.”

“Of course, of course. My usual secretary had an accident during his… reeducation,” Serenade said with a wry smile, “but I assure you we are in the final round of fresh blood before I send them to you. Did you, perhaps, want to recruit more? I am certain I can find more starving and desperate in a town like this.”

“Hardly,” Shield replied. “You are to send eight of your most well-trained and effective followers to Canterlot by week’s end.”

“Eight?” Serenade’s smile faded. “Mr. Wall, perhaps a lesser number would more reasonable, the younger ones need proper beat-”

“It is either eight operatives or your eight percent cut,” Shield interjected. “Send them to me, and do not resort to excuses. You have more than enough muscle to maintain our hold in the east, especially that hole of a town. You have until the end of the week.”

The feed was cut off before Serenade could retort. Shield floated his glass to him and sipped, while Gavel stood, perplexed.

“What are you planning, Shield?”

“Something to boost our followers’ morale,” he replied, taking another sip. “Oh, please Gavel, stop with that look. We are at a delicate point in our mission and we cannot afford to lose any ground, not when we are so close.”

“I trust you, Shield,” Gavel replied. “But what of the nobility, and Pants, no less? What are you planning that will keep them in line?”

Shield Wall only smiled to his friend, finishing the last of his drink and gently placing the glass onto the desk. He reclined in the large, leather chair and let out a soft sigh.

“Try not to worry, Gavel,” Shield said before closing his eyes. “You, after all, have a performance review to prepare for.”