Chapter 3
The sun was just starting to descend into the late afternoon when Steel reached the outskirts of Canterville, its rays painting the village in front of him in brilliant spectrum of colors as it passed behind Cloudsdale. He slowed his steps, panting heavily as he made his way into the village. Canterville was miles from Canterlot, a trip that, if walked even at his brisk pace, took upwards of three to four hours, and he’d just run it in less than an hour. It was a pace that was harder than he’d ever pushed the Dusk Guard, and a pace that he hadn’t pushed himself in years. He took a few deep breaths, noting as he did so that his sides were drenched in sweat.
He shook his head, sweat flying from his matted mane. He could rinse up in one of the public water barrels; there were always a few scattered around the village square for just that purpose. Still breathing hard, he made his way down the main thoroughfare, nodding in greeting to various ponies as they said hello. He barely had the breath to do anything else.
He passed Summer’s shop without incident, thankful that the pony didn’t happen to look out the open door and see him walking down the street. If Summer got to him first, she’d never let him speak to Cappy. Not after what he’d done.
There was a public water barrel sitting in the shade cast by the Postal Branch Office, and Steel let out a sigh of relief as he sunk his forehooves into the cool water. Now that he’d slowed he could feel the burning ache deep in his muscles. I’m going to be sore tomorrow, he thought as he whipped his hooves out of the barrel, splashing water over his face and sides. The water was chilled enough and his muscles burning so hot that the cool presence was almost painful as it rushed down his sides. Very sore tomorrow, he thought with a grimace. Or worse.
He splashed himself a few more times before moving out of the shade and shaking himself off, gritting his teeth as his muscles complained. It was still warm enough that he’d be dry within minutes as long as he stayed in the sun. He gave his body a final shake, lifting his legs one by one and shaking them to ease the threat of cramps. It wouldn’t do to have one of his legs seize up when he spoke to Cappy. He was worried enough that he’d collapse after his run.
Steel made his way around to the front of the building, but a quick glance told him what he’d already expected. This late in the day, the office was closed. Well, closed wasn’t the right term, the door was open in case anypony needed to pick anything up, but the office itself was locked tight. Cappy had already finished for the day.
Which left only a few other places for him to check. Steel turned off of the main street, heading in the direction of Cappy’s small home, silently praying that she was there. The last thing he wanted to do was find her out and about. Or even worse, with Summer.
Cappy’s home was on the edge of Canterville, and about as different from Steel’s cabin as was possible. The only similarity the two shared was their respective sizes, and even then her small home was easily twice the size of his cabin. Where his place had never taken on much in the way of color past the brown of the wood he’d built it from, Cappy’s home was painted in bright, cheery greens. Greens that blended in with the vibrant surrounding plant life, something he suspected Summer had played a helping hoof in with. Steel’s cabin had been rustic, basic, utilitarian. Cappy’s home looked friendly. Warm. Welcoming. He would’ve been happier if not for the circumstances.
Steel pushed the wooden gate open, stepping inside the yellow picket fence. A stone pathway led up to the door, a welcome mat sitting at its base proudly displaying its message to the world. Steel took a deep breath, ignoring the protests of his body as he made his way up the path.
What do I say? he thought, almost stumbling as the thought occurred to him. Ponyfeathers! I ran all the way here and I don’t even know what I’m going to say! What do I say? I want to apologize. That’s all, right? No, it wasn’t and he knew it. A simple apology would be more insulting than anything else. I need to think this through, Steel thought. Take a moment and come up with a plan of attack, just like I would anything else. I can just— The door rattled as he knocked on it, and Steel looked at his hoof in shock.
“Come on in!” He froze as the familiar voice rang out. No plan, no way out now. He turned his head to side, took one last large breath, and pushed the door open, stepping into the entryway.
The inside of Cappy’s home was as brightly colored as the outside. Its walls were covered in a colorful wallpaper pattern. The small alcove he was standing in opened up into a well lit dining and living room. A large table that seemed to fill the center of the room was surrounded by comfortable-looking chairs and even a couch, giving the room a welcoming feel. Pictures and paintings were scattered across the walls, their arrangement at first seeming random, but as Steel looked at them he could see that they were sorted so that if you looked from left to right, they seemed to progress through Cappy’s life.
“Sorry about that,” Cappy said, her voice muffled by the lunch tray she was holding in her mouth as she backed through the door on the far side of the room. “I was just getting some sandwiches ready for—” she turned and her eyes went wide, the tray dropping from her mouth and falling to the floor with a crash, sandwiches scattering across the carpet.
“Steel?” she asked after a moment. “Is that—” She took a hesitant step forward. “What are you doing here?” She looked cautious, almost fearful.
“I ...” Steel said. I’ve stared down political leaders before, he thought as his throat seemed to lock. Why is this so hard? “I—” he said again. Cappy took a step back, tears welling in her eyes.
“I came to apologize!” he said, the words bursting from his throat like a storm. “I came to apologize,” he said again, softer. “I’m sorry for being such a fool.” He hung his head, staring down at the carpet. “I’m sorry I refused to see what was right in front of me, for pushing you away, and for treating you the way I did.” He could feel the weight of his words now, the truth behind them. The truth he’d run from, forced from his mind for so long. “I’m sorry,” he said again, still not daring to meet her eyes. “I truly am.” He let his last breath out with a sigh.
“I’m sorry too,” Cappy said, her voice soft. Steel looked up in surprise, blinking away a few tears that were welling in the corner of his eyes. Cappy was sitting back on her haunches, one hoof digging into the carpet, her eyes darting around the room. “I should’ve—”
“No,” Steel said, cutting her off with a shake of his head. “No, don’t. I don’t want you to apologize for something that you weren’t responsible for. Everything you did was more than enough. The fault lies with me. I’m the one who was foolish enough to ignore what was right in front of my own muzzle, right until my sister had to point out to me.” He shook his head again, slumping. “And I’m the one who was stupid enough to leave, to say what I said to you, and to try and excuse it. And I’m sorry. I’m sorry I said those things. I’m sorry I was so callous. I’m sorry that in my own foolishness, I hurt you.” He took one last, deep breath. “And I’m sorry that I wasn’t as good a friend to you, as you were to me.” He stood, his head still hanging low, his eyes closed, and turned for the door.
“Steel, stop. Please,” Cappy said, her hooves making soft sounds against the carpet as she took a few steps forward. “It’s not all your fault.” The sad tone in her voice tugged at something inside of him, an ache rising in his chest.
“No,” he said, turning back to look at her, steel in his voice. “It was. A smarter stallion would’ve figured it out years ago, but I’m not a smarter stallion.”
“Well I’m not a smart mare,” Cappy said, stamping her hoof. “I never even told you that I knew your sister. At first it was just because I didn’t want to just be labeled a friend of your younger sister, but as time went on, I felt like I’d built a lie by not telling you.” She looked up at him, her face stained with tears. “Ponyfeathers, I should have just told you outright how I felt, but I hid. It’s my fault as much as yours.“
Steel shook his head, stepping towards her and stopping just short of reaching out, one hoof in the air. “No. No it isn’t,” he said. “I knew how you felt, I knew how I felt, but I chose to push you away.” His hoof lowered to the carpet. “I was a coward.”
Cappy let out a sniffle that tore at him, and again his hoof came up, reaching for her shoulder. He wanted to say something, anything.
“If it means anything about how badly I feel,” Steel said at last, “I’ve never quite felt as horrible in my life as when my sister told me what I’d done an hour ago.”
“An hour ago?” Cappy asked, looking up with wide eyes. “But weren’t you in Canterlot?”
“Guilt is a good motivator,” Steel said, giving her a sad smile. “Once she told me what I’d done … I—I couldn’t wait.” He looked down at his shaking forelegs. “I had to try and make it right. I’d hurt you. And I couldn’t live with that.”
Cappy put a hoof to her mouth. “You mean you ran all the way here?” she asked, stepping forward and putting her hoof on his shoulder. There was a tenderness to her touch. “Are you alright?”
“I’m fine,” Steel said, ignoring the increased trembling in his front legs. “I’ll be fine. Are you—”
“I’m not the one who just ran from Canterlot,” Cappy said, her eyes narrowing. There was a firm undercurrent to her voice that brokered no argument, but concern too.
“Well,” he said, folding. “Now that you mention it, I think my legs have locked up, but to be honest, I’m not sure if that’s from the run or out of nervousness.” He smiled as his front legs began to try to fold. “It might be both.” Then he pitched forward as his front legs gave out, dropping him to the carpet with a thump.
“And here I thought you were a runner,” Cappy said, putting one hoof on his forehead. Her tone was lighter, lighter than it had been since he’d walked into her home. “And some sort of elite honor guard of some kind.” She gave him a small smile, then stood and grabbed a cushion from one of the couches, tucking it under his head.
“Well, it might have been more like forty-five minutes,” Steel admitted. “Or maybe a half hour, I didn’t have a watch.” He could feel the burn sharpening in his legs now, going from a faint, numb sensation to something that was cutting through to the bone as his adrenaline wore off. He grimaced as the pain began to move up his sides. “And I think I may have pulled something.”
“Pulled something?” Cappy asked, running a hoof along his foreleg. “Did you even stretch before you came looking for me?”
Steel shook his head. “No, I was in too much of a hurry.”
Cappy paused, tilting her head to one side as she looked down at him. “As touching as it is that you ran here that quickly to apologize for something that you said to me a month ago—even if it did hurt—you could have saved yourself a lot of pain and just made it here an hour later.”
“I—I wasn’t really thinking about that,” Steel admitted, wincing as his rear legs began to cramp up. “I wasn’t really thinking about how I’m going to get back either.” Cappy went silent for a moment, and then she smiled at him.
“Steel,” she said, sitting back. “I won’t lie. As much my fault as this whole thing was—”
“It was my—” he ventured.
“My turn,” she said, cutting him off. She took a breath and looked at him again. “As much as what you did, and said, hurt ...” she took a shuddering breath, and then gave him a hopeful smile that, in his mind, made the entire run worth it. “It was, like I said, partially my own fault.” She sat back, a few tears still making their way down her cheeks.
Steel tried to reach out with one hoof, to brush the tears back, but he couldn’t even make his limb move. It just burned, and he winced again.
All I have now is words, he thought, looking up at the mare who’d made his head pound ever since he’d come to Canterville. What do I say? The silence in the room was growing more oppressive.
“I—” Cappy’s eyes darted to him as he opened his mouth. “Cappy, I’ve never been much for words, but ...” he pulled his head up from its cushion, ignoring the burning needles across his neck. “But I know when I’ve been a fool. I’d understand if you never wanted to talk to me again, but—” Cappy’s hoof pressed against his lips and he stopped speaking.
“We were both fools, Steel,” she said. Something in his mind clicked.
“Even so,” he said, looking up at her and pulling his head up higher with a wince. “If I could … if it’s still possible … I’d rather be a fool with you than without you.”
For a moment, Cappy was silent, staring at him in what was plainly surprise. Then she let out a nervous laugh and darted forward, wrapping her legs around his neck.
“Everyone’s a fool, Steel,” she said. “But I’d rather be a fool with you too.”
“Now,” she said, pulling away before he could respond. “You might be able to walk back in the morning, but since you’re going to be stuck on my floor for a while ...” She began collecting the sandwiches she’d dropped earlier. “You might as well have some lunch. Are you hungry?”
Steel opened his mouth to say no, only to be overruled by common sense. “I haven’t eaten since this morning,” he admitted.
Cappy shook her head, sending her bouncy blue mane cascading around her head. “Oh Steel, still the same stubborn stallion.”
“I did just finish telling you that myself,” he pointed out as she walked back into the kitchen. “So it’s not exactly a revelation to me by now.”
“No,” she called back. He could hear cupboards opening and closing. “And it is in your name.” There came a few more noises, jars opening, drawers sliding open and shut, and then Cappy reappeared, once again holding a sandwich tray piled high with several sandwiches in her mouth as she backed into the room.
“That was quick,” Steel said as she set the platter down in front of him and then laid down on the floor across from him.
“It’s in my name, just like yours,” Cappy said, smiling a little. She still didn’t look quite like the bright and upbeat Rapid Cap he’d always known, but she seemed perkier, more alive. “So you really ran all the way here as soon as your sister talked to you?”
“Well,” Steel said, leaning forward and taking a bite from his sandwich. He felt a bit foolish eating it without his hooves, but he couldn’t have lifted his hooves if he’d tried. “She actually jumped on me about it a week ago, but without ever telling me who or when, so, being an idiot, I didn’t know what she was talking about.”
“And you ran all the way here when you found out,” Cappy said, looking down at her sandwich. “You know, more than anything, I think that tells me more about who you are than watching your house or even hearing stories about you from your sister ever did.” She stood, leaned over the platter, and gave him a small kiss on the nose. Steel’s eyes widened in shock.
“You know, your sister gave me some advice too,” Cappy said, leaning back..
“Did you follow it?” Steel asked. His sandwich sat in front of him, momentarily forgotten.
“Most of it,” Cappy said. She walked around the platter and laid down next to Steel, so close that she could have leaned over and rested against him. He felt his breath seize up in his chest.
“It was in three parts,” she said. “I already did the first two, and they told me everything I needed to know to do the third, which,” she said, leaning in against him, “I’m doing right now.” Her head nuzzled his neck, a soft, warm, feeling.
“Bear in mind,” she said as he looked at her in stunned astonishment. “I’m still pretty mad it took you this long to apologize to me. But I’d have to be crazy to give up an opportunity that I’ve wanted to come along for years. What do you think?”
Steel looked at Cappy carefully. She almost seemed to be brightening as she spoke, her mane and coat taking on a radiance of their own. Thoughts raced through his mind. His sister, his work. He looked down at his hooves, checking to make sure that he was still alive and awake, and then back at Cappy, who was starting to get an unsure look on her face.
“I think,” he said, giving her a smile. “I think that would be just fine.”
* * *
Hunter looked up in surprise as the door to Steel’s office burst open. “Steel!” Dawn shouted as she marched in, hot anger on her face. “Where is that insufferable—” Her voice cut off as she noticed that she was shouting at the wrong pony. “Hunter? What are you doing in here?” she asked, the edge gone from her voice and expression. “Where’s Steel?”
Hunter shrugged. “Took off about an hour back. His sister swung in and told me it was something about a family emergency or something like that.” It’s impressive how quickly Dawn’s face goes from anger to ‘clinic’ mode, he thought as he watched the mare’s face change.
“Is it medical?” she asked, her expression urgent. “Do they need help?”
“Nope,” he said with a shake of his head, “she said it was just something that Steel needed to take care of personally. Anyway, that put yours truly in command. So as soon as Sky Bolt finished disassembling that golem and went to sleep, I headed over here.” He waved a hoof at the large desk. “Figured I might as well use Steel’s enormous desk to finish up our report while the kid gets some rest,” he said, tapping the small spread of papers in front of him. “But it sounds like you’re a bit aggro about something, Dawn. What’s going on?”
Dawn scowled. “I left Nova Beam with specific orders to get bed rest for the next two days to accelerate the healing process. No sooner do I leave then he’s gone. I went to check on him a few minutes ago and his quarters are empty.” She pawed at the floor with one hoof, almost snorting. “When I catch that colt I’m going to stitch him into his bed without painkillers!”
“Alright, easy. Simmer down,” Hunter raised his hooves, pitching himself forward. “Kid probably got bored just sitting in his quarters. You’ve seen him sitting around. He’s not happy unless he’s doing something.”
“Well then he can focus on picking the lock on his door,” Dawn said, her jaw tightly clenched.
“Yeah, I’m sure that’ll keep the team thief occupied for all of maybe five seconds,” Hunter said, rolling his eyes. “Or have you forgotten the diplomatic dinner?”
Dawn’s face flushed in embarrassment as she pulled head back. “I still say he had to have used magic somehow,” she said, her voice curt. “There’s no other way he could have been so skilled.”
Hunter let out a laugh. “Right, Dawn, right. I’m pretty sure the kid could steal half of your office while you were giving him a check-up if he put his mind to it.” He chuckled at his own joke, although Dawn chose to fix him with a level glare rather than laugh. “Oh lighten up,” he said. “It was just a joke. Maybe.” He grinned, but Dawn’s icy expression didn’t break.
“Fine, alright, to business,” he said, letting out an exaggerated sigh. “What did you want the boss for anyway?”
“To punish him in some manner,” Dawn said, pronouncing each word with exaggerated force. “Unlike you, I take medical responsibilities seriously, and Nova will listen to Steel.”
“He’ll listen to you too,” Hunter said, giving his head a small shake. “You just have to learn to speak his language.”
“Oh?” Dawn said, one eyebrow cocked. “And what might that be? Griffon perhaps?”
“No,” Hunter said, ignoring the sarcasm. “How exactly did you tell him to stay in his room?”
“I ordered him to get some bed rest,” Dawn said. “What else would I have done?”
“Incentive. The kid needs a reason to decide that getting out of that bed is worse than staying in it.” He leaned forward, a mischievous grin on his face. “You could have, for example, informed him that leaving his bed would open him up to a variety of painful—” he gave a small shudder, “—shots. Or,” he said, tapping his hooves together like a comic book villain, “now that he’s already flown the coop, you could simply assign him a few hours of kitchen duty.”
“Kitchen duty?” she asked. “We can do that?”
“Turns out we can,” he said, leaning back with a grin in Steel’s chair. “Found out just the other day. The palace staff always appreciates having some extra hooves on hand to make sure that potatoes get peeled, sans magic. Just send him on down there and they’ll take care of it.”
“Hmm,” Dawn said, rubbing her hoof against the bottom of her chin. “I may just do that. Do you think a day would be too much for him?”
“Try an hour or two, tops,” Hunter said. “I don’t think we can afford to spare anypony more than that. We’re going to be a lot busier over the next few days. We have quite a bit to react to now that we’ve uncovered the method.” He looked down at the papers spread in front of him. “Now we just have to discover the why. Anyway,” he said, looking up at the pink mare. “That everything?”
“Yes,” she said, offering a swift nod.
“Dismissed then, sergeant major.” He gave the unicorn and exaggerated salute. She gave her own, much more accurate salute and left the office.
Hunter slumped back in Steel’s chair as the door closed behind her. The darn thing was uncomfortable, worse than his own actually. What kind of commanding officer keeps such a lousy chair behind his desk? Hunter wondered. It’s no wonder he hates using this thing, I’d hate using it too if I was sitting in this for more than a few hours.
He turned his attention down towards the report he’d been putting together for Steel. Things are about to get busy, he thought as he picked up his pen in his mouth and started up where he’d left off. We’re going to need to move fast.
Some of it he’d already done. A runner sent to the ERS offices had been able to bring back records of any shipping done under the name and shipping number they’d pulled off of the golem’s arm, which in turn gave them a shipping record that had matched alongside every single robbery, all but cementing the two. While the shipping orders had originated from all over the country, a quick check with the railway timetables had shown Hunter that any shipment that left Baltimare was on its own schedule, while those going to Baltimare had always been shipped one day after a prior order had arrived.
Although he’d see about Guard checking the other delivery addresses, it seemed that whoever was running the operation was based out of Baltimare. The stolen artifacts that had been found in the city supported that as well, so it was likely that it was the central location, even if the address on the shipping manifests weren’t the real location they were operating out of. Which he highly doubted was the case. Nopony would be that foolish.
As he scribbled out the last few lines of his report, one clear fact stood out. He still had no clue what the thieves were after. They’d taken crystals and jewelry, most of it less valuable than anything they’d used to steal the stuff. Then there was the museum robbery. If they’d been looking for something there they hadn’t gotten it, given how quickly they’d offloaded the items they had taken.
It was possible that the golem had simply grabbed the wrong item. According to Sky Bolt’s examination it was a fairly simple construct, capable of following a few simple orders and directives. But if that had been the case, then why hadn’t it gone back for what they wanted? It wasn’t as if the team had known enough about what they were facing to protect against it.
Hunter dropped the pen, his report finished. He stared down at it with an unhappy expression. Rarely had he had so much information and yet concluded so little that was concrete. He knew how the golems had been stealing crystals from the trains. He was pretty sure he knew how they’d gotten into the museum. And he knew that whoever had ripped the several dozen tons worth of crystal growths out of the crystal caverns had been using the golems as well, the footprints they’d left behind matched up perfectly with the feet on the golem they’d recovered.
The only thing he didn’t understand yet was why. The train thefts were clearly less than profitable given the golem's cost, and there had to be several of them in operation. The museum robbery had been a poor payout if the rapid sale of the keys—and the price Nova had purchased one at—was anything to think about.
The only theft that had been worth any substantial amount at all was the crystal cavern's growths. But then why use the golems to remove the crystal? Speed? He shook his head. No, the golem they’d encountered had been strong, but a few earth ponies could do the same amount of work at a far lower cost. Even if you paid them to keep quiet for a few weeks.
Hunter shook his head again and rose from Steel’s desk. With hope, some of the Guard investigations would give him the clues he needed, or better yet just straight answers. He doubted it would be that easy however. Nopony went through this much trouble to get caught by something as simple as an address.
He passed through the empty common room and out the front doors, heading for the training field. His body was tired, but he knew if he slept now he’d find himself awake through the night. Plus, he wasn’t a novice to going a day or two without sleep. It was part of the training process for all Ranger recruits.
In fact, he thought as he rounded the wall that surrounded the training fields, I should probably suggest some endurance sleep deprivation training to Steel. It wouldn’t hurt for the rest of the team to get used to the different methods a pony could use to go on little or no sleep for a few days.
As he trotted onto the training field proper he spotted Sabra sparring with several guards. The young Zebra was blindfolded as usual, although today he lacked his usual weapon, since it had been destroyed in the prior nights battle with the golem. Instead, he was using his peculiar style of combat, Maji Kwato, to take on an entire group of out-of-uniform Guard.
The ponies themselves seemed to think it good fun. They were laughing and rushing him in groups, trying to see who could get a hit off on the talented zebra. A group would rush in, onlookers watching and cheering, and then Sabra would just flow around the attackers, his hooves everywhere at once. The group would begin to stagger back, one at a time shaking heads, rubbing chests, or trying to catch their breath. The rest of the Guard would laugh and help their stunned compatriots to their feet while a new group would rush forward.
Hunter walked up behind one of the ponies that was watching and tapped him on the shoulder. “Looks like you’re all having quite the party,” he said as the Guard turned and, with a surprised look of recognition at his hat, flashed him a salute. “What’s the occasion?” Hunter asked, returning the salute.
“Uh—the zebra, I don’t really know his name,” the Guard said with an apologetic shrug, “he started sparring with a couple of the guys and told them that if they got a hit on him he would give them fifteen bits.” He laughed, watching out of the corner of his eyes as Sabra took down another Guard. “We’ve all been at it for the last half hour.”
“Nice,” Hunter said. “Good motivation. Anypony make anything?”
The guard shrugged. “I think he’s paid out forty-five bits so far. It’s all the same to us, we get ‘paid’ to be out here training anyway, so it’s a win-win for anyone who actually hits him.” The Guard winced as one of the attackers stumbled back after taking a heavy hit. “That,” he continued, “and I think once some of us hit the medical office our superiors' might put a stop to this, so we’ve got to make what we can while we can.” He looked back at Hunter. “You’re not here to do that by chance are you? Shut it down?”
Hunter shook his head. “Naw, though I’m tempted to get in on the action myself.” He looked over the crowd of guard. “Are there any rules or line to get into?”
“Um—no magic,” the Guard said. “You can use weapons, but his disarms tend to sting, so we stopped trying. And there’s no line, so just hop in when you’re ready.” Hunter nodded and stepped forward, passing through the rough circle of ponies that surrounded the spinning, flipping zebra.
He took a good careful look at Sabra’s stance. He certainly doesn’t appear to be going easy on them, Hunter noted as another guard stumbled back, driven by blow after blow from the zebra’s quick hooves. The beleaguered ponies two comrades moved in to take Sabra from behind, coming at him from opposite sides, only to have their tackles meet against each other as Sabra flipped backwards. He’d reversed his forward momentum so swiftly it almost looked as if he’d simply teleported. All three attacking stallions went down in a tumble, Sabra flipping away to land on two hooves.
“He’s really going all out on you lot isn’t he?” Hunter asked, looking back at the Guard, who nodded.
“Yeah, he caught me a good one on my horn earlier when I fired a bolt at him too,” the pony said with a tap at his dull blue horn. “Let me tell you, that hurts. He’s serious about the no magic thing.”
Hunter shook his head. “I’d feel sorry for you, but if he set the rules ...” he let his voice trail off.
“Yeah I know,” the Guard said, giving his head a small shake. “Believe me, it’s not a mistake I’ll make again.” There was a shout from the crowd as a pegasus, assisted by two unicorns, managed to get close enough to land a glancing blow on Sabra’s shoulder.
“Kuwasiliana!” Sabra called. “Stop!” The group came to a halt as Sabra turned and shook the hoof of the guard who’d managed to hit him. Then he turned to one side and called out, one of the Guard tossing his saddlebags to him. There was a brief pause as he counted out fifteen bits and passed them to the Guard who had struck him before tossing his saddlebags back to the sidelines.
“So how about it, sir?” the Guard Hunter had been speaking to asked, nodding his head towards the zebra. “You going to try for it?”
“You know,” Hunter said, cracking a grin. “I just might. Hey, Sabra!” he called, stepping forward and drawing the attention of the group to himself. The blindfolded zebra, showing his special talent, spun to face him, snapping a salute.
“At ease, Sabra,” Hunter said as he stepped up to him. “What do you say we make this a team effort? After all,” he said, raising his voice and looking at the assembled crowd, “there’s gotta be about twenty Guard here.” He plucked his hat from his head, giving his mane a quick shake. “I can’t say I’ll give fifteen bits to the one who tags me, but if you can take me down I might give ...” Hunter tapped his chin with the brim of his hat. “Oh say, fifty bits.”
There was a rush of excited chatter from the group around him. Fifty bits was nothing to sneeze at. Fifteen was already pretty good. “You don’t mind, do you Sabra?” Hunter asked, stretching his left wing with a pop, then his right wing.
Sabra shook his head. “Si—” He stopped, catching himself with an embarrassed grin. “No sir.”
“Well then,” Hunter said, slapping his hat back on his head and snapping his wings out with a grin. “Let’s have ourselves a rumble!” The host of off-duty Guard looked at one another, smiled, and then with a shout, rushed forward.