The Tale of Lord Barleycorn
- - - - - -
Chapter 20: Can you play another song?
---
Recess was something every foal looked forward to. It was a chance to play in the newly fallen leaves, to enjoy the fresh air, and an opportunity to socialize, and it was in this regard that Corn Crib was no different than her schoolmates. Since the business with the farm had become so imposing, she hadn't had any other time to spend with her friends but the forty-five minutes Mr. Stockholm released them out into the yard to play.
The moment the bell had rung, it interrupted the teacher's lecture and caused over a dozen foals to stampede outside for recess.
The neighboring farm had planted corn this year, and it served as a natural boundary for the playground. Some of the colts used to play 'tag' among the rows before Mr. Stockholm began handing out detentions for breaking the stalks. To the north stood a small grove of trees and a shallow stream that ran out to the lake that was on other side of town. Aside from being the place where most of the foals liked to play, the stream was something that was scoured everyday for anything of interest.
Sometimes after a strong rain a few colorful stones would be washed up on the sandbar, and one time Blueberry had discovered a small topaz. That one time was enough to have the stream searched over four times every recess in hopes of lightning striking twice. Corn Crib could already see a group heading in that direction to begin today's gem hunt.
To Corn Crib's relief, her friend Thistle Bloom wasn't among them. She had sidestepped the outgoing stampede so she could walk outside at her leisure. Their lone colt friend, Wedge, was working his way back to the door. Corn Crib guessed he had rushed out with the rest of the crowd and hadn't seen them until now.
"So do either of you know what you're gonna do for the Fall Harvest festival?" Wedge frowned, "I'm not sure what to do."
Thistle Bloom sighed, "Not a clue, I haven't done any arts and crafts since I was a real little. Having something ready in a week isn't going to be easy."
"Me neither." Corn Crib muttered, "And I don't think some scribbles with my crayons or some macaroni art are going to be worth showing in the festival's art gallery. Besides... we don't have any macaroni."
Thistle Bloom chewed on her cheek. "I'd shave my mane to have macaroni. Mom only packed me a dandelion sandwich this morning."
"Lucky you." Corn Crib's lip trembled, "I don't wanna know what my mom packed me."
"You never want to see what your mom packs." Thistle Bloom giggled as they began moving out to their favorite spot, the shade of an elm tree that stood at the schoolhouse's corner.
"I'll trade you lunches..." Corn Crib whimpered, daring to hope Thistle Bloom or Wedge would accept.
"Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me." Wedge made a disgusted face, "I feel sorry for you, Corn Crib, I really do. But today my mom scrounged up some peanut butter and jelly and I'm not swapping it for mushrooms and onions..."
"Careful Wedge," Thistle Bloom snickered, "A few of the bigger colts might hear you bragging and force you to trade lunches with them."
Wedge's mouth clamped shut as he fearfully looked around the playground, but thankfully it didn't look like any of the other foals had heard him. Corn Crib and Thistle Bloom shared a laugh as Wedge shot them an annoyed frown.
Corn Crib let out a happy sigh, then flopped down in the grass. "Either of you wanna go down and fish for stuff in the creek?"
"I think everypony's already picked it clean by now. If there was anything at all." Wedge said as he watched the other foals working down the banks, "Just once I'd like to get a frog out of there to play with. Too bad they've learned to stay away from here."
"If the stream's out, what do you want to do?" Thistle Bloom asked, sounding bored. "Tag?"
"We did that all recess yesterday." Corn Crib frowned, "Jump rope?"
"Goldenrod and Ragweed are using it." Wedge said, but he didn't sound too disappointed. "Are any of the balls inflated?"
"The last one blew out yesterday when Pudge fell on it." Corn Crib chuckled at the memory.
Thistle Bloom grit her teeth, "What about hide and seek?"
Wedge shook his head, "The last time we played that other foals pointed out where we where hiding. What about the sandbox?"
Both fillies shuddered.
"Last time we played in it we found out the neighbor's barn cats love it more than we do." Thistle Bloom wiped her hooves on the grass at the memory.
Corn Crib winced, getting desperate for things to suggest. "Tug of war?"
Wedge frowned, "There's three of us, and there's no rope to use."
All three of them let out a disappointed sigh.
A defeated silence hung over the trio, but only until Wedge spoke up again. "Well, at least we're not the only ones who're bored."
Corn Crib blinked her eyes at her friend, "Huh?"
"Over there, by the corn field." Wedge jabbed a hoof in the direction he was looking.
Following her friend's hoof, Corn Crib saw that Wind Row sitting by the corn. He was hunched over, looking rather perturbed as he glared down at something he had scattered all over the grass. Corn Crib's guess was he had gotten into one of those trading card games and he wasn't happy with what he got.
"Wind Row? Yeah, apparently he got his cutie mark yesterday." Corn Crib squinted, "A camera, I think."
Thistle Bloom rolled her eyes. "Actually, I'm surprised he's not totally Block Heading it."
Both of Thistle Bloom's friends stared at her in confused silence.
"Block Heading, you know, how Block Head was being a show off when he got his cutie mark?" Thistle Bloom tried to sound confident, but it was clear she was beginning to believe her words sounded better in her head.
"Well, Wind Row's alright... in small doses." Corn Crib frowned, "I suppose we should go over and congratulate him."
"You think he'll have a Cute-ceañera?" Wedge smiled, already imagining a big slice of cake that often accompanied such festivities.
"Block Head didn't get one, so I dunno." Thistle Bloom shrugged, "Maybe that's why he's looking so down?"
Corn Crib frowned as she got back to her hooves, "If that's the case then we have to go say hi."
The playground was hardly vast, it only took a little sidestepping to avoid the games the other foals were playing for them to reach the corn stalks. It had only been a week ago that they stood green and lively, now the dry leaves produced a dry rattle as they were rustled by the wind. Corn Crib did notice that the crows that seemed to hesitate above the corn back home were not willing to approach the school house at all.
"Maybe they don't like school either." Corn Crib snickered to herself.
Although Corn Crib's hooves occasionally found a dry leaf, the resulting crunch didn't cause Wind Row to look up. He was too absorbed in his cards- no, they weren't cards, they were photographs. Nearly a dozen or so, but their lack of quality surprised Corn Crib. She thought having a cutie mark in photography meant he'd be able to take decent pictures.
Regardless, Corn Crib put on a friendly smile before she spoke. "Hey Wind Row."
The youngest Sprout looked up from his pictures, genuinely surprised to see these three wanting to talk to him. "Um, hey Corn Crib. What's up?"
Corn Crib shook her head. "Nothing really, we just stopped by to say congratulations on getting your cutie mark."
"That? Oh, it's nothing." Wind Row snorted, then shook his head, "Sorry, it's great an' all, but it came at a really bad time."
Wedge blinked, "I thought a cutie mark came when it was supposed to."
"They do, and I'm glad I have it, but..." Wind Row nodded to the photos laying in the grass. "When everypony says your cutie mark appears in a flash, I didn't think they meant literally. That flash ruined all my pictures when I was developing them."
Corn Crib took a second look at Wind Row's collection. Beyond the obvious facts that cameras had film and flash bulbs, she really didn't know anything about the developing process.
"One flash did this?" Wedge blinked as he leaned in to look at one of the garbled, muddy images.
"One is all it takes. It's why all development has to be done in a darkroom." Wind Row explained, a small smile starting to appear. Nopony back home wanted to talk about photography.
Thistle Bloom raised an eyebrow. "If it's dark how do you see what you're doing?"
"I use a special light that doesn't ruin the film." Wind Row said, "Only one of them didn't get ruined, this one."
The colt singled out one photo from the rest, then pushed it out for the other foals to see.
Corn Crib flinched upon seeing what had been captured on film. She had expected some picture of a bunny or one of the pigs the Sprout family had on their farm. The last thing she had anticipated was to see Lord Barleycorn dangling upside down from a rope, staring wide-eyed at her from the photo.
Wind Row was too busy glaring down at the picture to notice Corn Crib's reaction. "I wanted to prove to my dad and everypony else that I saw the King of Autumn, but nopony believes me."
Thistle Bloom snickered, "King of Autumn? That's a scarecrow."
Wind Row brought his glare to bare at Thistle Bloom. "You don't believe me either."
Thistle Bloom rolled her eyes, "I don't know, but why would the 'King of Autumn' be tromping around Hollow Shades? Shouldn't a king be, I dunno, in a castle or something?"
Corn Crib bit her lip. When had this happened, and why hadn't Lord Barleycorn mentioned this to her? The fact that he could be captured at all scared her a little, and suddenly his concerns about being discovered by her father made more sense. There was also the matter of her tall friend's expression in the photo, he looked... surprised, but then again Corn Crib would be surprised too if she was hung upside down.
"I dunno, my mom always did say lots of neat stuff about forest spirits. Like if you caught one they have to grant you a wish." Wedge said, "Did you ask him for any?"
"That's only faeries, you lunkhead." Thistle smiled at her friend to let him know she was only teasing. "Did the scarecrow say anything?"
"He said my traps were the best he'd ever seen." Wind Row beamed, "Then he told me a story about the Eastern Bunny."
Corn Crib and her friends shared a confused look.
"He promised to tell me why I saw him taking eggs from our farm if I would cut him down. He said he got rid of all the rabbits by telling them about some magical rabbit who colors eggs and has a home full of gems and stuff." Wind Row explained, "I was going to cut him down but then I went back to get my camera."
Corn Crib blinked, "Wait, did you make a promise to the King of Autumn... then broke it?"
Wind Row shook his head, "No, I was going to cut him down. I just wanted proof to show my pop that I wasn't fibbing about seeing a scarecrow with the eggs."
"But you still didn't do as you said you would." Corn Crib stated firmly.
"Well... I was going to..." Wind Row admitted, ears pinning back against his head, "Doesn't that count?"
"No, a promise is a promise. You should have to kept your word and let him go." Corn Crib snorted. "If he really was a forest spirit then he could bring the rabbits back."
Wind Row responded with a dismissive roll of his eyes. "Well, when I came back he was already gone. I found a knife in the brush but that's the only other proof I have. I showed my dad the knife but he said it belonged to one of the weather team." Wind Row snorted, "I tried showing my picture to some of the ponies around town but nopony believed me either. ... and I'm banned from the brewery for life."
"Well, was it a special kind of knife? Gold and covered in jewels?" Wedge asked, sounding hopeful.
"No, it just looks like a normal, boring pocket knife." Wind Row then stomped his hoof in frustration, "But I know it's his, I know it!"
Thistle Bloom rolled her eyes. "Are you sure? You're sounding a lot like the Big Hoof weirdos."
"I'm not making it up!" Wind Row shouted, stamping his hoof on the picture of Lord Barleycorn. "I really did see him!"
The wind blew over the corn, knocking Wind Row's pictures across the playground. Wind Row sprang to his hooves, ready to go retrieve his pictures when he saw the other foals picking them up to investigate. The response was the same for each colt and filly that picked up one of Wind Row's photos; they squinted at the damaged photos, shrugged, then tossed them aside.
Having seen his fellow student's opinions of his failure, Wind Row fell back on his flank. He took the one photo that had not been blown out by the wind and stared with watered eyes, but he quickly wiped away his tears like a big colt should.
"I really tried, but nopony believes me... I showed it to everypony I could in town, and nopony, not even my dad. I showed him the knife, the pictures... they aren't good enough to convince anypony I guess." Wind Row's lip began to quiver, "I... I'm supposed to be good at taking pictures, why did it have to come right when I was developing them?"
Corn Crib winced as she watched Wind Row crumple the picture of Lord Barleycorn into a ball and throw it into the corn. His own dad didn't believe him, even with the good picture?
"Discovering his special talent should have been the best thing ever, and instead it ruined his chance to show off those same talents. Mr. Stockholm never said that our cutie marks could come at a bad time." Corn Crib thought, "I hope mine doesn't cause something like this."
"Come on Wind Row, so you missed out on getting a good picture of a forest spirit, but you got to see one right?" Wedge said, trying to sound supportive. "Nopony here's ever seen one, much less had one of them tell us a story."
"Says you." Corn Crib thought.
"Whatever... I just wanna be left alone for a while." Wind Row muttered as he brushed past Wedge.
The trio of foals watched as their classmate abandoned his photos to the mercy of the playground as he walked away. Wind Row ultimately came to sit by the stream and stare at the moving water. Some of the other foals who had noticed his outburst returned to their games, not eager to become entangled in any dramatics that didn't affect them.
"Well, that could have gone better." Wedge frowned, "Do you think cutie marks cause problems like that to other ponies?"
Thistle Bloom tilted her head, one of her ears perked slightly up.
"I don't think so. How else could a flash of light ruin your day?" Corn Crib wondered aloud.
"Maybe if your cutie mark was tending to bats? I wouldn't want them all waking up and flying in my mane." Wedge shuddered.
Thistle Bloom tilted her head to the other side.
Corn Crib tapped her chin, "What if you were in a race and your cutie mark appears, and the light causes the other racers to be blinded and they fall? Would you be disqualified?"
"Or if it came when you were hiding from a manticore or something worse and that saw it your cutie mark appear?" Wedge said with wide eyes, "You'd be eaten for sure!"
"Yeah, but wouldn't that be a cutie mark in hiding?" Corn Crib raised an eyebrow, "What would that look like?"
Corn Crib glanced over at Thistle Bloom, she had been expecting her friend to chime in any second about how silly this was getting. Instead she kept tilting her head from side to side and wiggling her ears.
"Thistle, what's with you?" Corn Crib asked.
"Shhh! Don't you hear that?" Thistle Bloom's ear twitched, "It's been going on for a while."
Corn Crib and Wedge both quieted down and closed their eyes as they tried to sort through the various sounds around them. There was the usual laughter and sounds of foals at play, the rush of the wind in the trees and the loud gurgle of running water from the stream, but intermingled with them all was the sound of distant music.
Somepony was playing a single violin, and whoever it was was approaching the school from the road, and as they did the music grew in volume and clarity. Two new sounds soon joined the melody, the telltale rattling and creaking of an old cart and the thunder of hooves on hard dirt. The laughter and chatter that normally hung around the playground slowly dropped off, to be replaced with murmuring curiosity.
Many of the foals by the stream had wandered back to the playground, and those closer to the schoolhouse were approaching the road to see who or what was approaching. Only Wind Row stayed by the stream where he continued to stare at the water. Either he had found something genuinely more interesting than the music, or he was too lost in thought to notice it.
What finally rolled into view from behind the cornfield made Corn Crib's jaw drop open. It was one of the carts from home, being drawn by a pony clothed from head to flank in ragged, moth-eaten clothing, much like how Lord Barleycorn was dressed. This wasn't what shocked Corn Crib, oh no. Seated upon a wooden chair like it was a throne was Lord Barleycorn himself, violin planted under his burlap chin and fingers visible as he played.
The other schoolchildren didn't know what to make of the sight, but those closest to the road backed up several steps.
"Oh ho, my good rag pony, please stop. We seem to have come across an audience of the highest quality." Lord Barleycorn called out to the pony pulling the cart.
The driver slowed the cart, allowing it to come to a stop before the foals. Without another word, Lord Barleycorn continued playing.
While the other foals stared in amazement at the violin-playing scarecrow, Corn Crib's eyes were drawn to the cart, and pony-thing tied to it. The cart itself, was from the barn, Corn Crib could have recognized its signature creaking and rattling anywhere. The pony, if it was a pony, was another story.
Its ragged clothing hid its features, and a burlap sack that was tied around its head with a length of rope concealed its face. Every other means of identification from the color of its coat to its cutie mark was hidden under these rags, save for one. The big hint at its gender was the curled, orange-gold tail, which was too feminine for any self-respecting stallion to have. The only other part of her that was truly 'pony' were the tips of her yellow hooves which poked out of her pant and shirt legs.
Soon the music was over, and Lord Barleycorn rose from his chair and bowed to the young audience. "Always a pleasure to perform for such a well-behaved group of foals. I trust you're all enjoying this wonderful autumn day?"
Although the nearest foals were still frozen with bewilderment, some of the colts walked closer with curious twinkles in their eyes. It took a few seconds before one of them managed the courage to speak, but after the first found his voice a flood of questions poured forth from the crowd.
"Are you really a talking scarecrow?"
"What's with the pony with a bag on her head?"
"Are you from the Everfree?"
"Can you play another song?"
"Can you scare my Aunt away?"
Try as she might, Corn Crib couldn't wipe the grin from her face. She'd wanted to show off her newest and coolest friend to all her classmates, and now she was going to get the chance!
"Now, now, one at a time, if you please." Lord Barleycorn laughed as he sat back down in his chair, "A scarecrow stands in the field all day, frightening away the pests that threaten the farmer's crops. As you can see I'm neither standing, nor in a field, and I'm certainly not exactly frightening. But as for who I am, I have many names and titles. I'm known as the King of Scarecrows, He who walks in the rows, the Ruler of pumpkins, the Protector of Farmers, and Sovereign of all Autumn. I'm Lord Barleycorn, and I came to ensure the forest is awash with color, and to ensure everypony has a bit of fun."
Lord Barleycorn leaned back in his chair, making it creak, "That is, before my little sister, the Winter Queen comes in and makes everything all dour and blah."
"Ah, but I don't mean to take up all your time." Lord Barleycorn looked up at the clock that hung above the schoolhouse door, causing some of the foals to look as well. "I must be off, I mustn't deprive you of your recess."
Before Corn Crib could object, another filly spoke up. "Could you at least play another song?"
Another foal shouted in agreement with the first; "We didn't get to hear the whole song you were playing!"
"Yeah! Please just one song?" Another filly agreed.
"Well, I suppose I could play a song or two. We have time, yes?" He asked the pony hitched to the cart, "Ah, forgive me for not introducing you. Children, this is one of my faithful rag ponies. A spirit of one of the fields in Hollow Shades. Which one I'm not permitted to say, but to allow herself to be seen by you all tells me her fields are well-loved indeed."
The rag pony crossed her legs and bowed her head to the children, then winked her eye when she raised her head. She said nothing, but the children looked at her in awe.
"It has been so long since I've taken requests... I doubt I know anything contemporary." Lord Barleycorn lifted the violin to his chin again. "Perhaps something a bit more... fun? I have been inspired as of late and I might be tempted to test it out on you. It's about the upcoming festival of spirits, Halloween. when the boundaries between the spirit world and yours are thin as gossamer."
Before Lord Barleycorn could begin, Thistle Bloom blurted out; "Forest spirits have festivals too?"
"Of course we do, little seed." Lord Barleycorn chuckled, the violin once again rested in his lap. "We have our celebrations, our masquerades, our fairs. All of them in tune with the seasons, at special times when we all rest from our respective duties and have a little fun. But the approaching festival is my personal favorite."
Lord Barleycorn clapped his sleeved hands together, "It's a week long celebration of everything strange, a time for surprises and good-natured mayhem. There's to be candy, surprises, storytelling, and a grand masquerade."
"Sounds a little like Nightmare Night." A colt, Shale, said.
"It's very similar, but there are differences to be sure." Lord Barleycorn said, "We hollow out pumpkins and carve scary faces into them, then place candles inside so we can use them as lanterns. Should a house have their lights on, we assume the form of common spooks and knock on the door. We announce 'trick-or-treat!' and if the pony can't offer us something sweet to eat, we play some prank on them that night or the day after."
Wood Ring, one of the older colts chuckled, "Sounds a lot like Nightmare Night, I'd love to see what it's like."
Lord Barleycorn chuckled, then turned his head from the crowd as he fell silent. Corn Crib, and much of the crowd followed his gaze over to Wind Row, who was still sitting with his back to the crowd.
"Is something the matter with that young gentlecolt?" Lord Barleycorn asked in a hushed tone.
The crowd shrugged and murmured amongst themselves, all of whom were unable to provide an answer.
With her fellow students quiet for a change, Corn Crib took the opportunity to talk over them. "He's feeling pretty bad because all his pictures are ruined."
"Oh are they?" Lord Barleycorn gasped, but Corn Crib caught the over-dramatic tone he used. "Then perhaps he more than anypony here is in need of some music."
The cart shifted as Lord Barleycorn stepped down, gripping the side of the cart to steady himself. The 'rag pony' quickly unbuckled herself from the cart and ran to the scarecrow's side. Lord Barleycorn stopped, the two exchanging a silent and enigmatic look. It ended when Lord Barleycorn reached out and gently patted the field spirit on her withers and leaned in close.
"Don't worry, the show must go on." Jack whispered, "I'll manage."
"You like hurting yourself, don't you?" Carrot Top whispered back through her sack-mask.
"It'll be worth it, just wait." Jack replied, then turned to the crowd and gave a broad gesture with his arm. "Move aside please, and listen carefully."
The foals made a path for the apparent Scarecrow King, and with some trepidation he took several steps before halting. Underneath his mask, Jack was flinching with every step. The swelling in his foot had gone down thanks to the ice pack, but walking on it was going against everything he knew about sprains. At the very least the cough syrup had done wonders for his throat.
With his discomfort hidden behind his mask, Jack walked with slow, careful steps to make as little sound as possible and to minimize the uncontrollable jerk in his stride when he put weight on his ankle. His eyes were trained on the morose foal, and when he was within a few steps of the young pony, he put the violin back under his chin.
Lord Barleycorn gave three taps of his boot, then began to play. Corn Crib had heard him play before, and she was ready to believe that her father's fiddle was indeed just out of tune. Never in her life had Corn Crib heard such music come from that antique, and like the foals around her she stood spellbound as the violin sang.
Although Lord Barleycorn's expert handling of her father's violin was astounding, Corn Crib wasn't so entranced that she missed Wind Row's reaction. She never would have forgiven herself if she hadn't seen the colt nearly fall into the creek. Wind Row almost rattled as he turned around, his coat several shades paler as he came face to face with the scarecrow's knees. The colt's knees locked as he ratcheted his head upward, and when he locked eyes with Lord Barleycorn he fell on his rump, unable to look away from the scarecrow as the song continued.
When the song ended, Lord Barleycorn lowered the violin and cleared his throat. "Feeling any better now?"
Some of the foals stamped their hooves in applause, which clued Wind Row in that the entire class was staring at him. Wind Row felt a nudge on his back, and when he looked up the scarecrow reached out and ruffled his mane.
"I... I never thought..." Wind Row gave his head a shake to correct his mane. "Will you come show my dad you're real?"
Lord Barleycorn crossed his arms at the colt's request. "I don't see why I owe you anything. You made a promise to set me free if I told you a secret, and although I kept my word, you snapped a picture with your camera and ran home."
"Please, I'll do anything if you just come to my farm!" Wind Row stood proud and tried to put on a tough face, but the wobble in his front legs didn't help his case.
"Why should I? Trust once granted freely, is not restored by mere words." Lord Barleycorn said firmly, "What did you do with those pictures?"
"I... I tried to develop them..." Wind Row said, almost babbling as the tears began to escape down his cheeks, "But none of them came out right... and wh-when I did show the one that was okay, nopony believed me. I told everypony in town but they thought I was lying!"
"I would believe so, darting about shouting about how a scarecrow stole eggs from your farm? Catching the King of Autumn in a snare? Who would believe such a tale when it comes from the mouth of a foal?" Lord Barleycorn leaned in close as if to whisper, but he spoke loud enough for everypony to hear; "For adults, seeing is believing."
Wind Row took those words as a sign of hope, and he began to get himself under control. "Does... that mean you're not mad at me anymore?"
"Mad? No child I was never mad, merely disappointed in you. As far as trust goes, you haven't earned mine back, but perhaps you could earn redemption... but what I'll need is more than you can give. A broken promise says more about you than you know." Lord Barleycorn turned to the rest of the foals, "But I'm surprised to see Hollow Shades in such strife. I've heard from friends new and old about the trouble that surrounds you and your families. That's why I've come to you."
For the first time since Lord Barleycorn arrived, Corn Crib felt as confused as the rest of the foals. "What can we do?"
"Not much, not much at all." Lord Barleycorn clapped his hands together, "All you'd have to do is tell your folks what you saw here today and tell them the King of Autumn will appear once more in the main street when the moon is high. I'll be there to play for those who wish to hear, and perhaps help everypony in town if they'll be willing to consider my suggestions."
Corn Crib's face hurt, it had been so long since she's smiled this hard. Back in the barn she had heard Lord Barleycorn talk about improving the farm, but now it was sounding like he was going to help everypony in Hollow Shades! The fillies and colts were similarly excited, chatting about how he could help their homes and wondering what the 'funny scarecrow' was going to do next.
One of the younger fillies, Dew Drop, bravely walked up and gently tapped her hoof on the tip of Lord Barleycorn's boot. The tiny, sky-blue earth pony stared up at him with wide, excited eyes, and smiled when he looked down at her.
"Can you pway anuther song pwease?" Dew Drop asked, having trouble with her 'l's.
"D'aww..." Lord Barleycorn leaned in close and patted the tiny filly on the head, "And how can I refuse such a precious request? One more, and I will have to leave. Your teacher hasn't moved from the window since I arrived."
The mention of their teacher caused the mob of foals to collectively turn their heads to the schoolhouse. The schoolmaster stood gawking down at the scarecrow through the white-paned window, mouth ajar and eyes as wide as the face of a clock. It was a face Corn Crib had never seen the stern Mr. Stockholm make, and she never would have guessed anypony's jaw could drop quite that low. Without thinking, Corn Crib joined in as the other foals had begun to laugh at their teacher.
Lord Barleycorn cleared his throat, calling the attention of the young ponies around him as he replaced the violin under his chin. "Alright now, here's the song I promised, then I simply must be off. Autumn is my responsibility and I can't waste the whole day here. And of course I can't impose on my lovely rag pony's hospitality for much longer and remain in her good graces."
At the mention of the other spirit, Corn Crib looked back to see the scarecrow-pony had re-hitched herself to the cart. She was fidgeting in the harness, and to Corn Crib's surprise, the rag pony waved back to her.
Corn Crib waved back, stunned that she was getting such a friendly gesture. "Lord Barleycorn said he was surprised that she let us see her, and that she's from a field that's been shown a lot of love... Maybe she's the spirit of our farm's fields!"
Lord Barleycorn teased the young audience with a few quick notes, chuckling quietly as they stared at his exposed fingers. "The song I'm about to sing was one I heard centuries ago, when pirates sailed the seas with much more freedom then they do now. It's not a song of plunder, but one of cheer and joy, of wonder, danger, and adventure that a life at sea can bring."
The prospect of a real pirate song got a grin out of many of the colts, but Lord Barleycorn didn't wait for a response. He tapped his foot three more times on the grass before he began to play once more.
"Yo ho ho ho, yo ho ho ho~
Yo ho ho ho, yo ho ho ho~
Yo ho ho ho, yo ho ho ho~
Yo ho ho ho, yo ho ho ho~
Making a delivery,bringing it across the sea
Binks' sake in the hold as we sail through the breeze~
Far across the eye can see, the sun is shining merrily
As the birds fly in the sky as they sing out with glee~
Bid adieu to everyone as we sail under the sun
Sailing on from dusk 'til dawn and singing out as one~
Cross the gold and silver waves, changing into water spray
Sailing out on our journey to the ends of the sea~
Making a delivery of Binks' sake through the sea
Let be shown that we are known as pirates, sailing free~
Time to raise the flag up high, of Jolly Roger in the sky
Raise the sails and tell the tales that never pass you by~
Somewhere in the endless sky, a storm has started coming by
Waves a-dancing, sails a-prancing through the wind and rain~
If we let blow winds of fear, then the end of us is near
Even so, tomorrow the sun will rise again~
The foals began to sway back and forth to the music and sing along with surprising harmony for a bunch of disorganized children.
Yo ho ho ho, yo ho ho ho~
Yo ho ho ho, yo ho ho ho~
Yo ho ho ho, yo ho ho ho~
Yo ho ho ho, yo ho ho ho~
Making a delivery of Binks' sake through the sea
Through today, and through tomorrow, all your dreams will lay~
Say goodbye should we depart, and keep your memories in your heart
Don't you frown and don't be down, but live to seize the day~
Making a delivery of Binks' sake through the sea
Sailing on from dusk 'til dawn and singing out as one~
After all is said and done, we all end up as skeletons
Tales unending, rules a-bending, journey just begun~
Yo ho ho ho, yo ho ho ho~
Yo ho ho ho, yo ho ho ho~
Yo ho ho ho, yo ho ho ho~
Yo ho ho ho, yo ho ho ho~"
The foals mistakenly sang another 'yo ho ho ho' after the last notes of the violin had been sounded, but whatever embarrassment they might have felt was forgotten in the thunderous applause of tiny hooves. Lord Barleycorn graciously bowed to the children, waiting long enough for their applause to die down before he stood straight again.
"I trust you all liked that song?" Lord Barleycorn asked, and many of the foals responded with a nod, others with positive feedback. "Then for the sake of your teacher's nerves, I must take my leave before his mane turns any grayer."
A chorus of disappointed young voices groaned in surprising harmony, but the scarecrow only laughed, "Oh don't be so glum, my invitation isn't just for the adults, but you as well."
The approaching rattle alerted some of the foals, and they all moved away as the rag pony brought the cart to Lord Barleycorn's side. The foals watched with amazement as he lifted himself up into the cart by his front legs, spinning on one foot before slumping down on his wooden chair.
"We must be off, have a wonderful day at school everypony!" Lord Barleycorn waved goodbye as the rag pony started them off toward the road.
Several of the more exuberant colts and fillies raced after the carts, shouting their own farewells until they reached the edge of the road. Corn Crib knew they would have continued after it if not for Mr. Stockholm's strict rules about not playing in the road. Sure, the teacher wasn't very alert at the moment, but the threat of having to explain a disciplinary letter to one's parents was a heavy one.
"Remember, main street in three days! Tell as many as you can!" Lord Barleycorn shouted back to the foals as the cart was pulled back up the road, "I'm counting on you!"
Students and teacher both stared at the road in shared bewilderment. For several moments nopony said a word, as if they had collectively woken from shared dream, but all at once, a excited murmur grew as the foals began to share their anticipation with each other. For them, there was no doubt what had transpired was as real as the ground under their feet.
"The King of Autumn wants our help?" Wedge reared up and kicked his front legs in excitement, "I don't believe it!"
Thistle Bloom snickered, "I can't believe Mr. Stockholm's still standing there like a frog with a toothache."
Corn Crib looked back at the school house. The door was wide open and Mr. Stockholm was standing in the doorway, his mouth still hanging wide open. Corn Crib was ready to believe that his face would be stuck that way forever until a bug flew in the teacher's mouth, which caused Mr. Stockholm to cough and spit.
"Well, are you gonna do what he asked, to tell everypony to meet in the main road in town?" Corn Crib asked.
"Um, you think I'll not tell everypony that not one, but two forest spirits rolled into the schoolyard and played a fiddle just for us?" Wedge smirked, "Come on..."
Corn Crib grinned, whatever her tall friend had planned it was definitely working. Around her, Corn Crib could hear the other foals talking about old stories passed down to them from their parents and grandparents.
"Well, I don't know about you two but I'll be in the streets even if I have to sneak out." Thistle Bloom asserted.
"I think the same goes for all of us." Wedge chuckled, "I know my grandma will be there, and everypony else who believes in spirits."
---
When the cart was half way up the road to the Harvest farm, Carrot Top slowed to a stop and promptly ripped off her mask and tossed it back into the cart. The mare then sat so she could rub her face with her front hooves, gasping in relief.
"How can you stand wearing that thing!?" Carrot Top blanched, "It doesn't breathe at all, and the dust kept getting in my eyes!"
"The first few days were bad, but after I washed it the third time I think I got all the dust out." Jack chuckled as he pulled off his own mask. "Good show back there, I told you it'd work."
Carrot Top snorted, "Are you sure I couldn't have said something? I'm sure the foals would have loved to have met a 'field spirit.' And where did you come up with 'rag pony'?"
"Children love an enigma, it excites the imagination." Jack said plainly, "But the name? Those clothes from that old trunk are pretty ragged, so I just coined the term from watching you pull the cart to the schoolhouse. … Thank you for that. This part of my plan wouldn't be possible without you."
Carrot Top turned her head to look over her shoulder at her friend, and she suppressed a smile as she watched him pull off his boot. "Don't worry about it, it was fun seeing all those foals enjoy your music. How's your foot?"
"Tender, but if I stay off it I should be fine." Jack reached down to rub his ankle.
"Then I have to ask; are you sure your plan will work?" Carrot Top asked, unwittingly running the cart over a pothole.
Jack had time to shrug at Carrot Top's question, but when the cart shook he gripped the back of his chair in a panic. "Hey, eyes on the road!"
Carrot Top snapped her head back in time to maneuver around another large dip in the road. She slowed the cart, secretly trying to make up for her mistake with a smoother ride. "Sorry 'bout that."
Jack, however merely waved off her apology as he relaxed in his seat. "Don't worry about it. But to answer your question; I've never met the mayor, but if he's like the rest of the ponies in town he might buy into my ideas."
Carrot Top's ears bent down a little, "But doesn't it sound risky? You've been hiding from Summer this whole time..."
"I wasn't sure what ponies would do if they saw me." Jack reached up and ran his hands through his hair, "Maybe if I hammed it up for Summer I wouldn't be sleeping in the barn. All I had to go on when I got here was what one little filly told me. Heck, I didn't even know how any of you ponies would react to something like me walking around. It's just dumb luck I ended up in a town that's mired in stories of benign forest spirits."
Carrot Top stopped the cart, feeling like she had to turn and look Jack in the eye. "And despite those concerns, you tried to help us? We could have chased you off."
"You aren't having second thoughts are you?" Jack teased.
"Only if I have to wear that mask again." Carrot Top smirked back at him, "But... nevermind. I'll pick up some more ice if the swelling starts up again."
"Thanks." Jack coughed, the rattle in his throat sounded looser than it had yesterday. "I'm already feeling better than I was yesterday. In three days I'll be fit as a fiddle, and ready for the curtain to rise. But in the meantime... I can at least do something to pay you back."
Carrot Top opened her mouth to object, to say she needed no reward when Jack raised Summer Harvest's fiddle and began to play again. This was no childish tune like what he had played for the schoolfoals, this was the music of a sophisticate that flowed from the violin like a silken wind. Every note seemed to strike some hidden part of Carrot Top's heart as she resumed pulling the cart, her steps trying to follow along with the melody. Carrot Top didn't know the song, but when she looked back to see the gentle smile on Jack's face, Carrot understood the message Jack intended it to carry.
To feel such selflessness and tenderness directed at her caused the mare to face the road to hide the blush in her cheeks. The only sounds that rose to meet Jack's violin-playing was the wind, the rattle of the cart, the sound of Carrot Top's hooves, and a single whispered "Thank you."
---
To be continued...
---