//------------------------------// // Problems for Solutions // Story: The 8th Rank // by Winter Quill //------------------------------// When the morning finally came, Edmund found himself on the edge of a whirlwind as Gallus and Gruff were busy getting ready to head down to the train station. The princesses would be arriving with a train full of supplies, and it was going to be their job to help distribute it, at least that’s what he thought they were going to do. He only had a few moments to speak with the teal griffon before they were out the door and in the air. He was able to scrounge up a little bit of food for breakfast, and finally take a much-needed bath in the cramped water closet that was built onto the back of the house. He was surprised that there was running water (even if it was ice cold). Not even every noble in Canterlot had running water in their homes yet, so he had never expected it in a run-down city like Griffonstone. He made a note to ask Gallus about it when they returned. Unfortunately, after the bath, there was nothing else to keep him occupied. He finally decided to go back into the center of town, though this time he left his vest and bags behind, taking only a small bag of bits hidden in the thick feathers of his crest. He took to the air, circling over the house until he was sure he could find it again, then headed towards the town square, joining the growing crowd of griffons. This time he was able to settle down into the middle of the crowd, ignored by everygriff else. He wanted to try and get closer to Gilda’s bakery, but he couldn’t push his way through the wall of fur and feathers. It was just after noon when the first ponies appeared; a group of royal guards, looking almost identical in their golden armor. He had seen them nearly every day of his life in Canterlot, but they looked out of place here, marching in time as they moved into the square, wagons being pulled behind them. The griffons allowed them to pass through the crowd unmolested. They didn’t head towards Gilda’s bakery and instead went to one of the empty sides of the square where most of the buildings had crumbled to ruin. He wasn’t sure what they were doing there, but they quickly started unloading their wagons. The princesses themselves followed a few minutes later, all four of them walking together as a group, the crowd splitting around them like water. Celestia and Luna chatted with each other as they walked, followed by Twilight Sparkle and Cadence. The youngest of the quartet kept looking around in the crowd, then back at the princesses, but didn’t say anything. The griffons all stayed hushed as they walked through the square, then vanished into the bakery. As soon as the door was closed, the crowd erupted in hushed conversation, a low murmur filling the square. Edmund just watched as all of this unfolded and eventually turned his attention to the dozen or so royal guards who were still diligently working on the edge of the square. They were assembling a pure white tent, and when the fabric was lifted into the air, it revealed Celestia’s cutie mark right above the entrance flap. It took a moment for him to realize that there were three more tents waiting to be unloaded, their colors matching the other princesses. He couldn’t help but muse at how strange it was thinking of the princesses having to ‘rough it’ while on such an important visit. Then again, it hardly seemed like there was any place for them to stay if they weren’t going to make use of the old palace. Edmund was still pondering that when a fight broke out only a couple dozen wings away. A pair of scruffy looking toms were yelling at the top of their lungs, only to have the smaller griffon leap onto the larger as they started to claw and screech. Quickly, the other griffs in the crowd backed away from the flailing limbs as feathers and fur flew into the air. He wasn’t sure what to make of this. No fight like this would ever break out in Canterlot, not even among the griffons living there, and if it did, the guards would be there in a few moments to put a stop to it before anyone was hurt. He shot a glance at the royal guards, but they were making a point of ignoring the fight. They clearly had orders not to interfere in anything that might happen in the town. There was a sound of a door crashing open in the distance, and moments later a hen dive-bombed down right into the middle of the fight. She landed with a claw on the neck of both males, pinning them to the ground. “What the buck do you think you are doing?!” she bellowed into their faces. Edmund took a step back in shock, surprised at how forceful this griffoness was. She glared down at the pair, anger glowing behind her golden eyes. It took a few moments for him to notice the crown resting on top of her head, sitting slightly askew. Slowly, he and all the griffons in the square started to bow to Princess Gilda. After a few moments, she let go of the two griffs, backing away from them as her tail moved in a blur behind her. “Well?” she demanded. A second later she saw the reaction of the griffons around her. “Get up, all of you. This isn’t the time for this crap!” Edmund rose back to his paws and glanced back at the bakery for a moment. The front door was now open and he could see both Princess Celestia and Luna standing just in front of it. Finally, the smaller of the two griffons spoke. “He’s a thief!” he snapped, The second griffon looked offended by the accusation. “I am not.” “You stole the berries from my bushes. You’ve been stealing them for months,” the first griffon snapped back, the fur on his short tail starting to bristle. Gilda rolled her eyes, and stepped between them before they could attack each other again. “Berries? You two are fighting over berries?” “They’re mine,” the smaller griffon said. With a sigh, the princess ran her talons over her face and beak, then shot a glance back at the pony princesses like she was hoping that they would help. After a few moments she steeled herself, rising to her full height as she looked at the two griffs. “Show me,” she ordered. The two griffons looked at each other, then back at her before nodding, the larger of the two leading the way through the square, Gilda following just behind them. It seemed that the rest of the griffons in the square were trying to follow right after them, Edmund included. He wanted to see what the princess was going to do; he just had to stay within a few wings of her. Edmund couldn’t help but notice that the accused thief had dark red stains on his beak and talons. Without a word, the procession left the square and made its way into the city, the narrowing streets making it harder for most of the griffons to follow along, many of them taking to the air instead. The street wound and twisted around the old buildings, until finally the feuding griffons turned down a small side road that was lined with tiny houses. They were all built out of stone, but some were in better shape than others. The two griffons stopped in the middle of the street, in front of a pair of houses. There was a line of berry bushes growing against an old fence that separated the two properties, a stone house on each side of the fence. The one on the side with the berries was looking more the worse for wear; the rotted wooden roof stood in stark contrast to the well-tended thatch roof of the other house. “There, these are my berries, and he’s stealing them,” the smaller griffon said, motioning towards the bushes. Gilda’s head twisted as she turned one eye to look intently at the bushes, then back at the two toms. “Why are you taking the berries?” she finally asked the thief. “Because I always have. This whole fence used to be covered in them, but this cold egg cut them all away.” The first griffon snorted and reached out to grab the bush, pulling a limb of it towards the three of them. “I cut them away because they were too thick. They were half dead, and there was hardly any fruit. This year they’ve produced twice as much as before, half of which he stole!” “I did not—” the larger griffon started to say, only to be silenced by a glare from the princess. Gilda looked between the two toms, then let out a sigh. “Fine,” she stated, reaching up to adjust her crown, making sure it was sitting properly in place. Edmund couldn’t help but smile, he knew what was going to happen next. She would make the thief apologize for what he had done, find a way for them to share the berries, then they would hug and be friends again. That was how this sort of thing was always resolved back home. The princess walked between the two of them, her tail lashing in her wake as she turned to face the larger griffon. “They are his berries, on his land. Just because they used to grow over the fence doesn’t mean you’re entitled to any of them now. You stole his food, there is no question about that, and he’s justified in wanting to take a piece of your hide for it.” The thief blanched a bit, wilting under the glare. “We don’t have any guards around, so I’m going to have to come up with some way to punish you,” she said, jabbing a talon in his direction. Letting out a small yelp, the thief dropped flat to the ground, his wings shuddering over his back as he covered the top of his head with his talons. Edmund found himself taking a step back; he had no idea what was going to happen now. Gilda looked away from the thief, turning her attention back to the houses, the one with the thatched roof. “Is that your home?” she asked. “Yes,” the thief said, still holding himself against the ground. She nodded, turning back to face him. “Did you repair the roof yourself, or did you get some other griff to do it for you?” “I did it,” he replied. The princess smiled a bit, though it wasn’t the sort of smile any griff wanted to see. “Then in order to repay for what you have done, you are going to repair your neighbor’s roof with the same care that you did for your own home. As for your punishment, I think some community service is in order. So, once you are finished here, you will have to do ten more roofs, and you are not allowed to ask for bits or anything in trade. You will show me each one, and if I’m satisfied with all of them, then you will have finished your punishment.” The griffon lifted his head from the ground as she spoke. “Yes, princess Gilda.” One of her talons flashed out to press against his now exposed neck. “If you don’t, I will find you and pluck every single one of your primaries.” The thief whimpered at that, his tail pressing tightly to his flank. Gilda pulled her talons away. “And what is your name?” “Graham.” “Well then, Graham, I will be expecting you at my bakery as soon as you’re done with your neighbor’s roof,” she said, then hunched down, his wings starting to fan out, but she paused to look back at the smaller griffon. “And who are you?” “Grissom, ma’am,” he replied. Gilda nodded, glanced back at the berry bushes, then down the length of the narrow street. “You know, there are a lot of bushes around here that need to be trimmed. A smart griffon could make some decent bits doing that, or maybe even trade for more repair work.” That took the tom back a bit, like he had never considered the as a possibility before. “Huh,” he finally said. “Do it,” Gilda snapped, then launched herself into the air, her wings sweeping down and lifting her above the crowd. Edmund followed her up into the sky as she banked back towards the square. “So, that’s Princess Gilda,” he mused to himself, not quite sure what to make of her. One thing was clear, she left quite an impression. Greycrest was woken by the sound of somepony knocking on his door. He lifted his head from his desk, sleep still heavy in his eyes as he glanced out the window. The sun was high over Canterlot, at least noon, though it was hard to tell from his office. Pushing away from his desk, he tried to rub the sleep from his eyes and walked towards the front door. He reached it just as his butler was closing it. “Who was that?” he asked, trying to cover a yawn with his talons. The zebra turned back to look at Greycrest. “A page from the Royal Court, he brought a message for you,” he stated, holding a scroll balanced on the edge of his hoof. “Thank you,” he said, taking the scroll and breaking the seal with the tip of his talon. He had spent the whole of the day before and most of the night writing an injunction against the damnable treaty, not even sleeping until it was safely sent off to the Royal Court sometime in the middle of the night. To receive a response so soon meant that the High Magistrates were treating this issue with the appropriate level of urgency, but told him nothing about what they may have said. As the treaty would go into effect at noon the next day, there was no time to waste. He started reading the scroll, his heart soaring when he saw that they had accepted his injunction, and would be reviewing it in an emergency session of the Royal Count. That only lasted a moment before it dropped back to the floor, the soonest possible they could have such a session was in three days. An injunction against The Crown would require all six of the High Magistrates to rule upon it, and two of them were currently on an official visit to Yakyakistan. It would take at least a day to get a message that far north, and another for them to return to the Crystal Empire. By the time they could even consider the injunction, it would be days too late. “How, how could that stupid mare have arranged it so the courts would be so useless?!” he yelled out, crushing the scroll in his talons. He was aware of the visit to Yakyakistan, it had been arranged months before. While the princess was many things, she wasn’t half as clever as many ponies thought. He doubted she had arranged for the visit in order to support her treaty, it was more likely she had held it back until it would be safe to announce it. Celestia wasn’t as cunning as a griffon; he would find a way to end this travesty one way or another. Greycrest turned back towards his office, but hardly got two steps before someone else was knocking on his door. It wasn’t the heavy sound of a hoof, so it probably wasn’t a pony. Since he was right there, he turned to the door, grabbed tightly onto the ring so he could twist it and yanked the door open. He snapped his beak, ready to tell whomever it was to go away unless they could help him. What he had expected was one of the other griffon nobles, but he was surprised to find three of them on his doorstep, as well as five ponies. “What are you doing here?” he asked. The lead griffon, a young tom by the name of George, spoke up. “I saw the injunction you had delivered to the Royal Court. It was very persuasive, but without all of the Magistrates—” “Yes, it’s useless, I know,” he snapped back. “Not so much as you might think,” Jet Set said, the stallion stepping forward to the front of the group. “Celestia has quite overstepped her bounds by attempting to annex the Griffon Kingdom, steps must be taken in response.” “I will not be allowed to claw her eyes out, even if they would heal,” Greycrest said with a snort. Jet Set shook his head. “May we come in? There is much that we have to discuss.” For a moment he considered just sending them away, it was hardly a group that could sway the Parliament. They were all members of the nobility, but the group was too small to wield any real power. Still, even a few allies would be better than none at all. “Very well, come in,” he said, opening the door wide for the group. He watched them file in, somewhat surprised at the ponies that were in the group. There was no sign of Blueblood; he would have assumed the stuck-up prince would have been in the front of the line to end the treaty, but that wasn’t the case. The other pony that he was surprised at being absent was Upper Crust. “Where is your wife?” he asked Jet Set as he closed the door. He motioned for them to move into the large conservatory just off the hallway, the high glass walls allowing the sun to fill the room. Jet Set just shook his head, “She felt that this was an unwise course of action.” Greycrest nodded as he took a seat on a wicker bench. “Yes, well I’m sure she will change her mind in due time,” he turned his attention back to the full group. “So, how do you propose we deal with this?” “We can't stop the treaty from coming into effect,” Gregory said, “but we can use it to our advantage once it becomes law.” He narrowed his eyes as he fluffed out his wings. “How could we possibly use the treaty to our advantage?” “The method by which this Gilda was appointed King’s Regent is suspect at best,” one of the other griffons said, one that Greycrest didn’t know off claw. “Celestia attempted to invoke the laws of the old kingdom, but in a very circuitous way. No member of the Council of Nobles participated in the vote, and there were no official records or counts. The validity of it is questionable at best.” Greycrest nodded. “I made the very same objections.” Jet Set smiled. “I’m sure you did, but I think you went about it the wrong way. The appointment of the King’s Regent was invalid, and I believe we can prove that. Because the vote was not valid, Gilda would not have the authority to sign the treaty. It will come too late to prevent the treaty from coming into effect, but it will remove her from the throne.” He looked between the stallion and the other griffon. “And how will that aid us?” “Section Seventeen of the treaty, it gives the crown to the highest-ranking authority of the previous government. If there is no King’s Regent, it would go to whomever the authority is,” the griffon explained, a smirk on his beak. “And that would be?” Jet Set smirked as well, leaning forward and pressing his hooves together. “Lord Greycrest, there is only one griffon that is still serving the government of the old Griffon Kingdom.” He looked between them all, his mind jumping to the one impossible conclusion. “You don’t mean…” Gregory made an exaggerated bow. “I think ‘King Greycrest’ has a nice ring to it, don’t you?”