//------------------------------// // Interlude 1 // Story: The Last Charger // by Chengar Qordath //------------------------------// Our newest base of operations was a touch nicer than the last one we’d used. It was one of the out-islands that hadn’t been properly settled simply because it was out-of-the-way and too far from any of the major shipping lanes. The last one the Council had set up shop on had just been a chunk of wetland barely high enough out of the water to qualify as an actual island. Sacrifices must be made when selecting hidden island bases nobody could ever find or stumble upon. It was hardly a surprise the Council had moved since the last time I’d been back at headquarters. The Necrocrats and slavers were trying to hunt us down, and we had to stay one step ahead. Even if a lot of our members used the anonymity of masks to blend into normal Freeport society, we had to have facilities to take care of entire ships full of refugees and maintain our own little fleet of privateers. All the buildings in our base gave away its transitory nature. Almost everything was a tent, made to be packed up and moved at a moment’s notice. The dock was one of the few semi-permanent structures, and even it was barely better than a bunch of crudely hacked and bound logs. Even if we had someone who knew how to build something better, we could hardly invest the time and resources into it when we would have to abandon this base at the slightest hint that Freeport’s masters had found us. As our victorious vessels sailed into the harbor with a fresh cargo of newly liberated slaves, I found something rather unpleasant waiting for us: a large company of armed guards, all dressed in Council garb. Nobody outside the leadership council usually bothered with cloaks and masks while we were at home base. It probably would’ve been safer to stay hidden at all times, but hot and humid tropical weather made it less than pleasant. That many armed and masked guards meant they were expecting trouble. I flitted across the bay from the lead ship, landing in front of them. At least nobody tensed up at my arrival, so I knew it wasn’t me they were here for. “What’s going on?” One of the leaders stepped forward, leaving the rest of the group behind to have a private talk with me. “Torch, good to have you back.” I smiled, recognizing the speaker despite the cover. “It’s good to be back, Cornflower. But you didn’t answer my question.” Cornflower sighed. “Hate it when you do that, the whole point of this costume is to hide my identity.” She shook her head. “Anyway, no time for small talk. We’ll need to process the slaves you liberated before we let them off the ships.” I didn’t like the sound of that one bit. “Process them? They’ve been in chains for weeks. The last thing they need is to spend more time imprisoned, however nicely we go about it.” “Trust me, I don’t like it either.” Despite the mask, I could tell Cornflower was scowling. “There were some problems with the last set. Apparently some of the coastal nobles in Gryphonia and Zebrica realized they could empty out their prisons by selling off everyone inside of them to the slavers. A lot of them were just debtors, politicals, or had just fallen on hard times. Some of them were in prison for a very good reason. There was trouble in the camp. The sort of trouble we can’t afford a repeat of.” “Damn.” I suppose I should’ve seen that coming. The slavers were bound to pick up some bad apples eventually with how many they kidnapped, but still... “How long will it take? Keeping them locked up after what they’ve been through doesn’t sit right.” Cornflower shrugged. “As long as it takes.” A second later her voice softened. “We’ll try to go fast, but I’d rather keep them under custody for a bit then find out we turned another monster loose in the refugee camps.” “That’s ... the best we can do under the circumstances.” Much as I disliked the idea of keeping the newly freed slaves under any sort of confinement, Cornflower had a point. Just because they were all victims of the slavers didn’t mean all of them were innocent. Not to mention other potential threats: the Necrocrats had already made a few attempts to infiltrate our ranks, and odds were they’d eventually try something like mixing a few spies in with the slaves we rescued. Cornflower nodded. “That’s life. Anyway, while we get this taken care of you should get freshened up. The leadership wants to see you as soon as you’re ready. ” “So noted.” I smirked and leaned in to whisper to her. “Though obviously I won’t need to hurry too much. I doubt they would start without you.” “Torch!” Cornflower hissed, her voice dropping to a far harsher whisper. “Just because you don’t need to wear a mask doesn’t mean the rest of us can get away with it! The leadership needs to stay anonymous for damned good reasons, and you know it.” “Which is why I wasn’t announcing it to all the world,” I answered with a relaxed smile. “I was whispering, and it’s just the two of us.” I let that linger in the air for just a moment, then sighed and shook my head. “But you’re right, I should be more careful.” As my father once told me, you can always have the last word in an argument so long as that word is ‘yes, dear.’ She let out a frustrated little sigh, shaking her head. “Just try not to do it again. You know how bad it could get if the Necrocrats find out who’s running the Council. We already had a close call when they caught one of us last year. It sounds wrong to say it, but I’m glad they just killed him outright. The only reason that happened was because they had no idea who they’d caught. If they caught me and knew who I was, they’d stop at nothing to extract every last piece of information I could give them.” Despite the mask, I could tell she was grimacing. “I don’t think I’d break under torture, but I’d rather not have to find out.” “You say that as if I wouldn’t save you.” Despite the bravado, I knew she was right. “But yes, I know, secrecy is important.” I smiled at her. “I suppose I just couldn't control myself with how happy I am to see your lovely face again.” A second after I said the compliment, I realized the problem of saying that to a mare wearing a mask. “In a certain manner of speaking.” Cornflower snorted. “I know you think you’re a charmer, but it’s too much fun when you try and fall flat on your face.” She leaned in just a bit to whisper. “Though if you play your cards right, you might get a chance to see it later.” She poked my chest. “After you meet with the Council. Business before pleasure.” “Yes of course, priorities.” I smirked and dramatically lifted the corner of my salt-stiffened cloak. “I doubt they want me go through the entire conversation smelling like a month of ship-born sweat and no proper baths.” “I know I certainly don’t care for it.” She poked me again. “You’re lucky you’re almost half as charming as you think you are, because that goes a long way to make up for the smell. At least for a few minutes. Now go clean up, Council’s orders.” I grinned and snapped off a somewhat cheeky salute. “Well, far be it from me to refuse orders. By the time the Council is ready for me, I shall be the very image of cleanliness.” I cannot say for certain if I became a proper paragon of hygiene, but I was certainly far more presentable when the leadership council finally summoned me. It truly is incredible how much of a difference a good bath and a fresh set of clothes can make. I felt like a new stallion. Or at least a much-better looking one. I’d even broken out one of my favorite cloaks for the occasion, a lovely shade of blue with cream lining. I should like to think I cut a rather dashing figure, especially with Chainbreaker at my side. The leadership were waiting for me in one of the larger tents within our current encampment, though it could more properly be called a pavillion given the size and the fact that it was strung between several coconut trees. The accommodations were as always rather basic; a few quick benches roughly shaped with wood axes to be good enough to serve. At least this time we’d settled on an island that had some local plant life. Having some coconuts to supplement our usual staples of fish and kelp would go a long way. Smuggling other foodstuffs from Freeport proper or raiding a plantation for supplies was far riskier than subsisting on what we could get from local sources. There were only four of the Council’s leadership here today; the numbers almost always seemed to wax and wane. Some of them were doubtless out in the field, or handling other projects like Cornflower had been. Others might be dead. As Cornflower pointed out, our operations were rather risky, and casualties did happen. Well, I suppose if one wanted to be technical there were five of us here rather than four of them. But then, my place in the Council’s leadership was a bit unique. Not bothering with the anonymity the rest of them preferred made me a bit of an oddball, though it was quite useful for times when we needed a somewhat more public face. Not to mention I was usually far too busy being out in the field making a real difference to sit around making decisions. I smiled and snapped off a quick salute with Chainbreaker, surreptitiously shooting a wink at Cornflower as I settled into the seat they’d provided for me. A quick slice of my blade cut a coconut in half, providing me with a bit of refreshment. “You summoned me?” “Yes, thank you for coming.” Despite the best efforts of his robe and mask, Marcellus couldn’t quite hide who he was, at least to me. Hippogryphs do tend to stand out a bit. “As you can probably guess, we’d like a report on your mission.” “Naturally.” Considering how that mission had gone, I thought it best to start on a positive note. “My thanks for arranging the ambush of the slaver ship I’d borrowed on such short notice. I’m glad we managed to get something good out of it.” “You can thank the commodore of our fleet for that,” Zenia murmured, despite the fact that I knew full well that the lovely Zebra mare was in fact that very same commodore. The pretense of anonymity could be quite tiring at times. “Hopefully this new batch of freed slaves will be able to help us in our struggle.” “That was my hope as well.” I sighed and shook my head. “We could certainly use the help, considering how the rest of my mission went.” “You’re referring to that side project?” Cornflower queried. “Your message did say you were hoping to turn the mercenaries guarding the ship, but evidently they weren’t willing to commit to anything more than neutrality.” “Something like that, yes.” No need to mention that Belladon had fully intended to uphold his contract until my magic foiled those plans. Far less troublesome if the rest of the Council believed he stood aside willingly, especially since I hadn’t given up hope of winning him over. “But the matter of the mercenaries was more of a personal side project, compared to the visits to Gryphonia and Zebrica.” “And what results do you have from those?” Free Strider asked. While the robes did a good job of hiding his frame, the touch of Northmarch in his voice would need something much more than a mask to conceal. “I am afraid the cynics amongst our ranks will be vindicated today.” I sighed and drank a bit of coconut milk. “The current High Queen of Gryphonia spoke long and eloquently of her desire to aid us, but offered precious little in the way of substantive promises. It seems she is quite willing to aid us so long as that doesn't require her to actually expend any resources or take any risks.” I scoffed softly. “Evidently she is in the midst of some difficulties with her barons. I am sure some of them are the same barons who evidently have taken to selling their prisoners off to slavers. I suspect domestic matters occupy the majority of her attention.” “Typical,” Marcellus snorted. “Regardless of who holds the throne, the gryphons have never been interested in anything that doesn’t directly benefit them. She’ll talk a good game and use us as an excuse to hammer any recalcitrant barons and raise taxes, but I wouldn’t count on any of that translating to gains for us. Did you have any better luck with the merchant princes in Westmarch?” “No.” I grimaced. “Or at least, a more immediate term no. They’re happy to sell anything we can afford to our smugglers, but convincing them to give us a loan or sell on credit is a much more difficult prospect, let alone any sort of gifts. They want some assurance that we're actually going to be viable before they offer us anything beyond taking our cash.” “Hard to convince anyone to loan us money when we could all be dead before we pay them back,”  Zenia murmured. “How did things go with the Empire?” “I wish I could say the zebras gave me better news.” I finished off the first half of my coconut. “Their eyes remain fixed upon Port Nowhere. The island has little economic or strategic value on its own, but it's always stung their pride that they lost territory to Freeport. They want us to keep the Necrocrats distracted so they can snatch the island back without a full-scale war.” Zenia shook her head. “Even if we were willing to make a deal like that, if the news of it ever got out it would destroy our public support. The last thing we need is for Necrocrats to have a way to paint us as traitors selling out to foreign powers. Especially the zebras, considering they were the ones Ushabti liberated the islands from to start this whole mess.” “That would be a rather massive problem,” I conceded. The moral high ground was one of the most valuable assets our revolution had, and the last thing we needed was to give that up. “Not to mention that I rather strongly suspect any aid the zebras had to offer would dry up as soon as they have Port Nowhere firmly under their control.” “Assuming they’re not fishing to invade Freeport again,” Free Strider pointed out. “A lot has changed since the last time they tried, but if they think the islands are so divided they’ll make for easy pickings...” “Equestria and Gryphonia would have something to say about that,” Cornflower pointed out. “Though just because it would be incredibly stupid doesn’t mean we can assume the Empire would never do it. If everyone only ever made rational decisions we’d have a lot less problems in the world.” She sighed and shook her head. “Aid from Zebrica was always the option that came with the most baggage in any case. Not that I would’ve said no if it came without too many strings attached.” “Then the entire journey gave us nothing,” Marcellus concluded. “Or close enough to it, in any case. Small surprise, considering the recent troubles we had with some of their local nobles selling criminals to slave ships. Much as they might decry the slave trade in public, they are happy enough to profit from it. Perhaps they also fear what might come of encouraging ideas of freedom and revolution which may spread beyond Freeport’s borders. Whatever their reasons, there are still other nations to appeal to.” His attention shifted a bit towards Free. “What about Argentium and the North?” Free shook his masked head. “Argentium will support us in principle, but she’s never shown much interest in meddling with affairs outside her own borders. We could almost certainly recruit a few young idealists eager to make their mark on a grand heroic adventure, but the North is more a collection of loosely aligned autonomous communities than a proper nation. One of our number is already there managing efforts to recruit new volunteers and win over donations. And even if the odds of soliciting Argentium choosing to involve herself directly are poor, I doubt she would turn us away empty-hooved.” “Be that as it may,” Zenia cut in, “We need more than just a few over-eager volunteers and what coin they can spare. Of all the nations we could petition for aid, I am curious why we didn’t send Torch to the one nation taking substantive action against the slave trade. Equestria is on the verge of open naval warfare with the Necrocrats after all their anti-piracy patrols. Compared to that, funding us seems tame. As it is some of the anonymous donations collected by our agents in Equestria almost certainly came from the crown in some form.” “Celestia’s fine with aiding us covertly,” Cornflower stressed. “The problem is we need more than a couple thousand bits slipped to one of our agents by somepony who may or may not work for the EIS. Openly assisting us comes with a lot more complications. Not to mention that when it comes to sending an ambassador...” Her masked face briefly turned to me. “It’s hard to ignore the fact that Torch’s uncle lead an invasion of Equestria a decade ago. Even sending someone else could just draw more attention to the fact that we didn’t send Torch.” “Not to mention one of you would need to unmask,” I pointed out. “Ambassadors usually don’t go around in full disguise. Even if you could persuade the Equestrians to accept an envoy in full costume, it would certainly put a bit of a damper on things.” “Why can’t we just send Torch?” Zenia pressed. “I can’t imagine Celestia would blame him for the sins of his uncle. Besides, what we’re doing is a lot more important than personal baggage.” She turned to face me. “If you need to apologize and disavow your uncle’s actions to get us the funding we need to free thousands of slaves, then swallow your pride and do it.” Easy to say when it wasn’t her family. Not that I approved of what Uncle Magnus did, but there was a big difference between expressing my private opinion and publicly denouncing him. Still, the cause mattered more than my personal qualms. I wasn’t going to leave anyone in chains just to save a bit of my family’s very badly tarnished honor. “If it comes to that, I will do what I must. I never said it would be impossible, just complicated.” Marcellus nodded. “Then it sounds as if you’re willing to undertake the task, regardless of the risks and potential issues. I think that regardless of a few minor bits of personal baggage, you are still by far the best choice for our envoy. You have experience at the task, a certain natural talent for it, and it wouldn’t put one of our other members at risk.” I couldn’t disagree with any of that reasoning. Hopefully Celestia and the other Equestrians would just politely ignore the fact that my uncle tried to invade them. Granted, that might be a bit hard when last I heard Magnus Kicker was one of her top military advisors. As the name rather indicated, he had been the other major player in what the Equestrians called the Battle of Two Magnuses. All things considered, that was probably a much clearer name for it than Magnus’ Folly, especially since that begged the question of which Magnus we were talking about. Well, if I was going to go to Equestria there were a lot of details to hammer out. Not to mention a few possible opportunities to pursue on other fronts. “Do you want me to go as a solo envoy again, or should we make it a touch more ceremonial?” Cornflower quickly spoke up to support me. “I think it might be better to send him out with a bit more pomp. Celestia’s court will have a much better impression of him if he comes escorted by a nice-looking retinue. If it’s just him, it would be far too easy for him to come across as little more than a vagabond begging for a handout.” “Appearances do matter,” I confirmed. “I hope we can spare funds for it?” Free Strider sighed softly. “We can probably scrounge up enough ducats to pay for it.” While the mask covered his face, I could still hear the frown in his next words. “Though bear in mind that any money spent on pomp for the royal court is money that can’t be spent on something else, like food for the refugees.” “Trust me, I know.” I grimaced and tried to put a good spin on it. “Think of it as an investment in our future. With any luck, we’ll secure enough aid from Equestria to make up for the expense several times over.” “We know, otherwise we wouldn’t be giving you the money,” Marcellus answered. “I don't think I need to tell you that getting a real commitment from Equestria could make a huge difference for us. Not that the back-channel aid hasn’t been appreciated, but right now we’re scraping every last bit just to get by. Every time we have to raid a plantation just to make sure our refugees have food in their bellies, it makes it that much easier for the Necrocrats to call us nothing more than a group of pirates and bandits.” “Not to mention the effect it would have on morale,” Zenia pointed out. “Just knowing Equestria is on our side and we’re not alone in the fight would do a great deal to reassure everyone that we can actually win this fight.” “And it would doubtless bring in more private volunteers and donations,” Free Strider added. Cornflower was the last to speak up. “It would also go a long way towards winning over all the forces that might like to support us, but aren’t sure about our viability. Westmarch will almost certainly revisit their decision if Equestria declares for us. It would certainly make the Council look like a much safer investment.” “And a dozen other things besides,” I concluded. “Right now, we’re just an insurgency. If we can get Equestria on our side, we’ll be well on our way to becoming a revolution.” Though all the important points had already been covered, the Council meeting still dragged on for several more hours before we’d hammered out all the pesky little details. Or at least most of them. Not to mention helping me get caught up on everything that had happened in my absence. Overall things were going well in the broad sense, but we weren’t making enough progress. Freeing a few hundred slaves was a laudable victory, but for every slave we freed a dozen more still languished in chains. Slow, gradual progress wasn’t good enough for them. Once the meeting was over we all went our separate ways. After an hour or so Cornflower must have decided we’d gone through enough subterfuge to throw off anyone who was a bit too curious, and invited me to join her in her tent. What followed after that was private enough that I could hardly fault her extra security, and immensely enjoyable. Once we had finished, the two of us lay together on her pallet, my forelegs wrapped around her and holding her against my chest. Necessity had required the removal of her robes and mask at the beginnings of the proceedings, allowing me to see her properly. Well perhaps not seeing her unmasked in the strictest sense, but this mask was far more charming than the one she normally wore. “Ah, I truly have missed you.” Cornflower smiled up at me, her bright blue eyes framing a lovely face the color of pale cream. “Right back at you.” One of her hooves slowly trailed up and down my chest. “It’s a shame you have to leave so soon. I was hoping we would get a few days to relax before you had to head out for your next mission.“ Her lips puffed out in a slight pout. “Though I imagine if you asked for a few days off we wouldn’t say no. Granted, my vote would be a bit biased.” “Don’t think I’m not tempted.” I sighed, slowly stroking her golden curls. “But much as I would love to linger with you, I doubt I would be able to actually relax if the whole time I was thinking about the slaves suffering because the delay. At least we have this evening, and I intend to make the most of it.” I made sure the tent was well and properly secured shut. “You can take your natural form if you want.” Cornflower’s eyes flicked to the entrance, and her voice dropped to a careful whisper. “We have privacy, but not that much privacy. This one doesn’t need to explain how much trouble we would all be in if someone saw it in its natural form.” “Yes, yes, security first.” I thought she was being a touch paranoid, but that was nothing new. After all, she was a changeling who went usually went around in full robes and a facemask. And considering how powerful and dangerous our enemies were, it wasn’t so much paranoia as a mild excess of caution. “Right, we need to be safe. Thanks for the sentiment.” She leaned up and pecked my cheek. “Best case, if someone sees me there’ll be a huge panic that’ll take forever to calm down. That’s not even getting into what would happen if word got back to the Necrocrats, and if the Old Mind were to discover where the Free Minds had run off to...” A shiver ran down down her spine, and I instinctively pulled her in closer. That brought up a very worrying possibility. “The last thing we need is Chrysalis to find out where you are and decide to ally with the Necrocrats, especially when our own missions to recruit allies have been less than successful.” Cornflower grimaced and shook her head. “That would be the end of it. We wouldn’t have any choice but to go on the run again.” She scoffed softly and shook her head. “Wouldn’t that be sad? Even in a nation of exiles, we’re not welcome.” “You’re definitely welcome here,” I assured her. “But yes, it would be best if we didn’t add to our current troubles.” “Right.” She took a deep breath. “Anyway, let’s not dwell on the past, or work ourselves into a frenzy worrying about everything that could go wrong in the future. Or ruin our one evening together by complaining about how it’s not more. Let’s focus on something a bit less depressing. How are your little side projects going? You did say you were hoping to follow up on a few leads while you running over half the globe.” “I was, and I did try.” I sighed and shook my head. “I managed to follow Sanguinius’s trail all the way out to Port Nowhere, but it’s been fifteen years since anyone saw him there. Best guess is that he went to the Dromaed lands.” “What’s that guess based on?” Cornflower asked. “The fact that he completely dropped off the map, and it’s exactly the sort of insanely dangerous place an immortal thrill-seeker like him would go to.” I let my head rest on her shoulder. “I doubt he even knows about what happened to the rest of the Chargers, and that’s assuming he didn’t end up in a tyrant-lizard’s stomach. None of the other leads on surviving Chargers panned out either. I fear that if any are left, they’ve fled far and hidden as deep as possible.” Cornflower gave my shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Maybe after we’ve won they’ll feel a lot safer about coming out of hiding.” “Maybe.” I wouldn’t count on it, though. They’d been in hiding for a decade, more than enough time to build a new life under an assumed name. Giving all that up would be hard, and for what? Much as I loved my family, the Charger clan I had known was a pale, corrupted shadow of its past glories. I wouldn’t be shocked if some of the other survivors might feel the same way. Much like with Belladon and his clan, the Chargers who had remained far from the clan and maintained only loose ties were likely the ones who didn’t care for its current leadership and direction. Thinking of the Striker mercenary reminded me of my other worries. “My attempt to win over Belladon also failed, at least for the moment. It’ll be a lot harder to win this war if we can’t get him or someone like him on our side.” “I can’t see why,” Cornflower sighed and shook her head. “The clans aren't what they once were, Torch. You should know that better than anyone. Maybe they have a grand and glorious history that stretches back for hundreds of years, but look at what they are now. It’s not that hard to find other mercenary companies with prestigious origins. The Blood Stripes were founded by the supporters of an exiled Zebrican prince, the Talonmasters were the second sons of the highest nobility in Gryphonia ... I could name a dozen more, but I think I’ve made my point.” She gently stroked my mane. “I get that you’d love to recruit the only clan captains who refused to go along with the attack on your family, but I don’t see why you think we need him that badly.” Ah, now there was a difficult question. “There’s more to it than just my personal desires. Right now we have eager volunteers. They believe in the cause and they want to help, but they don’t have combat training.” I held up a hoof to cut her off. “Yes, you and Zenia are doing a great job with practice drills for your forces, but there’s a big difference between our fighters and soldiers with a lifetime of training like the clans have. We need commanders, tacticians, engineers, logisticians, and a dozen other specialties if we’re ever going to accomplish more than bandit raids and light piracy.” “Yeah, we do need that,” Cornflower agreed, “But why do they have to come from the clans?” “I’ll take them from wherever we can get them,” I conceded. “But our options are slim. Belladon and his clan forces are our best shot at actually recruiting to the cause. I’ve run the numbers on what it would take to hire mercs to do the job, and it’s not pretty. Just getting a company for one job of light escort and ceremonial duty is putting a painful dent in our budget.” I took a deep breath. “And there’s another factor. The clans might be a pale shadow of what they once were, but they still have a name that used to count for something. Westmarch and probably a lot of others are sympathetic, but want something to prove we’re a viable movement before they commit to us. Getting the clans on our side would help prove there’s something serious here, and that’s before we start getting bigger wins with their help.” Cornflower sighed and shook her head. “It’s the old problem of nobody wanting to be the first one to take a risk. Nobody important is willing to support us because nobody important has supported us yet. It’s ridiculous, how are we ever supposed to make them happy?” “By finding someone who cares more about doing what’s right than about recouping an investment or being on the winning side,” I answered. “Like a stallion who defied his entire clan and went rogue rather than go along with committing an atrocity. And as it stands, I do need to find a company to serve as my escorts.” Cornflower shot an incredulous frown my way. “You’re thinking to hire Belladon? I’m not an expert on him, but somehow I doubt his company would be very good for ceremonial duties.” “I imagine he’ll manage.” Especially since he doubtless needed money badly after how his last job had worked out. I regretted putting him in such a difficult position, but I could hardly let hundreds be sold into slavery just to help his finances. “Not to mention it would give me a bit more time to try to win him over.” “Assuming you even can,” Cornflower countered. “Now now...” I gently poked her chest. “I have it on very good authority that I’m incredibly charming. From a member of the leadership council itself.” Cornflower snorted. “Because this one is a sucker for dashing young stallions who don’t know when to quit. I doubt you’re Belladon’s type, and considering you’ve never asked me to take on the appearance of a grizzled stallion a few decades older than you, I rather doubt you could convincingly work your charms on him.” I chuckled. “Well, I wasn't planning to seduce him. You need not be jealous. You’re the one who holds a special place in my heart.” Cornflower scoffed and lightly slapped my chest. “Right, of course. I’m sure you weave that tale to the pretty mares you have in every port. Or non-equine females, for that matter. And don’t even try to deny they exist. You’re far too young, adventurous, and charming for me to believe there aren’t other mares in other ports.” She wasn’t entirely wrong, but I hardly wanted to be churlish about it. She’d certainly never expressed a desire for this to be anything more than an enjoyable liaison on the rare times our paths crossed. “I might have said it a time or two.” She shot a wry grin my way. “So how many of them believe it?” I shrugged helplessly. “Some of them might have. But I assure you, when I say it to you it is the pure, unvarnished truth.” “That better be true.” Cornflower playfully jabbed my belly. “This one will find a way to make you regret those words if they’re not.” I held up my hooves in mock surrender. “I would never lie to you, my lovely.” “Good answer.” She kissed me, then let her cheek rest on my chest. “Even if you have a bit of an overblown opinion of how charming you are, I’m going to miss you when you’re gone.” “I’ll miss you too.” I slowly stroked her curls. “Does it help to say I’ll be back soon?” “Definitely.” She nuzzled into my chest. “I’ll hold you to that. Come back soon, and come back safe.” She grinned up and me. “And preferably with several chests full of Equestrian ducats to help move the cause forward.” “I’ll do my best.” “You better.” She smirked up and me. “So, that’s enough worrying about the future and moping over the past. If you’re going to be leaving soon, I think we should make the most of the time we have left together.” We spent the rest of the evening doing precisely that.