He breathed in the fresh air and this tame savoured it. He had been breathless and gasping since he exited the mine. The motherless son and the widowed stallion had been left to their own devices down in the darkest depths of the mine for too long. They were in the way. Yes, their plight was unsolvable and their lives were irrevocably crippled, but it was no excuse for laziness.
Salem enjoyed the solitude while it lasted. He put his hooves up as he watched from the castle rooftop, observing his ants as they went about their business. He enjoyed the loneliness that is until his two darling daughters turned up unannounced.
They were dressed in dungarees and had caked their royal slippers in mud. It might have been mud. They were pouring sweat from a morning serving the fields. They however were unabashed and seemed happy to lend a helping hoof.
The father smiled as they curtsied in return. It was the usual faff, this convention of exchanged gestures. He was about to invite them down to the walkway below. He had opened his mouth to welcome them when the scene of comfortable grazing below became poisoned with controversy. The incident at the council building appeared to be the cause.
In their thousands they flocked into the square before the castle where dragons accused the magical steeds of harming the young drake, while the unicorns alleged that the dragons were responsible for the bloodbath at the council HQ. Revolution was in the air. The stench of mutineers in the pipelines was beginning to creep up Salem’s nose before he turned from the commotion and tightly embraced his daughters.
“How can we be safe with these scaly freaks around? They are working with the sun Empress. That is why they dealt with the mage circle. We are running low on options not because of dumb luck but because we have traitors in our midst!”
Salem recognised the troublemaker. It was none other than the stallion he had seen crying at the stairs and recently in the pit. He and his vainglorious followers marched in formation towards the enigmatic statue of the first dragon to align with the King’s cause. Their chants were unrepeatable. They involved forced castration and kitchen utensils.
Baldhart was the dragoness depicted in huge slabs of stone and etchings of pewter. Her face had cracked from ears of weathering but Salem refused the magical restoration of it. He said it would stand as long as the ponies and dragons could live harmoniously. Great fissures formed that day.
“I was at the scene myself. I can tell you all that my details are not modified or exaggerated. The bodies were torn into slithers and wrapped around the legs of chairs and tables. Disgustingly the horns had been wrenched from the skulls of the unicorn nobles. Their tongues had been cut as some sort of message!”
The stallion proclaimed. He did not drag his heels.
Dragons and Wyverns alike perched upon the stone and marble plinths of the buildings which viewed the castle fortalices, and they stonily waited like menacing grotesques frozen in time. They were calm however. Despite what the hoofed party might’ve thought, the dragons were staying their claws.
Ignatius however did respond. He was reasonable, diplomatic, as he abseiled down the pillar and confronted the mob.
“Why would my kinsmen see any benefit in harming your kind, to further damage the foundation upon which our treaty is based? The answer is that we would never do such a thing. However, I cannot speak for all the flyers here…”
Ignatius’s words were knocked flying by the roars of dragon and wyvern. Some crawled down or swooped to the floor, with teeth exposed and eyes hungry.
“I would ask that our errant king find a way to find the culprit. This slander will solve nothing. If a civil war were to erupt in these close confines, the death toll would be unconscionable.”
Salem realised he was being drawn from his family ties and he left his bedraggled daughters to their own devices. He teleported into the beating heart of the riot and he stood with the posture of a raring wildcat.
“Becalm yourselves!”
He ordered. A gust of silvery air rippled through the crowd until the disgruntled and disenfranchised followed his order and wound their necks in.
“I am aware that this is an awful predicament, but we will pull through. As Ignatius here has already stated, he does not speak for the entire dragon workforce. The investigation has already begun and as far as my barristers are aware, there are still many unknowns to consider. So, consider this, over the next few days there will be interrogations following this atrocity. Both pony and dragon will be mandated to provide a statement.”
“This is nonsense!”
A voice called from the enlivening crowd.
“We all have things to do and we haven’t got a safety net anymore thanks to this clumsy-hoofed fool!”
It was the voice of a dragon, and the heated breath of a dragon.
“Do not criticize me, I am your king.”
“Weren’t you giving the power to the people? Where did that idea go, huh? Face it unicorn, you are nothing but a fraud!”
“This has been an act of subterfuge and it will be treated as such. I may have stripped my royal apparel but I am still in charge. Any noncompliant subjects will be executed.”
Salem decreed.
“And what if we all refuse, what say you then? Could you sleep at night knowing you had slain innocent ponies? Who will remain by your side?”
Salem turned his back from the crowd and once more applied the loudspeaker to his voice.
“If insubordination is your tactic, we will target the vulnerable people of your families. We will hit you where it hurts most. If needs be, I shall make an example of your insolence so the whole kingdom can see that I am not a joke, and you all should listen to me.”
Salem panted and let his horn dull as he walked back towards the portcullis of his home. The sentries began to crank the mechanism to raise the heavy gate as they spotted the King from the ramparts.
“Salem my sweet, please leave me to sort this out.”
It was Sappheire, and he whisper was laced with harshness. Salem disappeared through a spell he knew oh so well and returned to the balcony, the one facing the ruination below.
The queen abandoned her quiet tone. Now was not the time for subtleties. She swept the rabble of rogues with a shockwave which left them unsteady, and some partially deaf.
“What is all this about? There was mention of the mages. What has happened?”
Ignatius bowed to the level of the queen. He had the utmost respect for her. He pointed a claw at the picketing ponies and sighed longingly.
“Has your husband not told you of the mages? That is truly underhanded of him. There has been mass murder at the council building, no survivors. It was an unprovoked attack and the murderer remains a mystery. However, your beloved subjects have placed the blame squarely on those baring my likeness.”
The enchanting queen took position floating midway between the line of the rooftops and the line of the ground. She confided in the tramping tumult.
“This is the first I have heard of this terrible outcome. I see no motive for dragon or pony to enact this vile crime. It doesn’t matter what creed or colour you are. What matters is who you look to when you pledge allegiance. Now, your king is trying to reason with you but your efforts to work together have thus far been marginal. Sombra will be president on the moonlake arch this evening and you all will honour him there.”
There was no argument. Sappheire’s word was law.
“I know that the questionings will be finicky and tiresome, but this is a precaution that must be taken. If truly there is a traitor who is capable of this magnitude of violence, then they must be found. I am a caring and sympathetic soul. But when this blowhard is found, I shall crush them into a diamond and wear them as a trophy!”
Quietly the masses left, signs discarded. The dragons left their positions upon the rooftops and they soared off into the sky. Only one dragon remained.
“If we fight amongst ourselves, then those bitches of privilege will steamroll right over our kingdom, and she will crush anyone not massacred in the civil disputes. Ignatius, you seem to have the correct skills for the roll of advisor. This place is becoming a cooking pot and my subjects are turning against one another.”
“Thank you for the opportunity, your majesty, but I cannot accept. No single dragon or pony should be made exceptional for it will breed contempt. Once the traitor is found, things should return to normal.”
Sappheire bowed to the fine drake and then gazed gloomily back to the castle, through the closing gate.
“I understand your consternation; a supervisory role can be stressful. For now your brothers are dealing with this incident famously. However, if clouds of doubt do form I have something that might fix it. We will incentivise fealty by tapping into the royal gem reserve. The ponies will be harder to control. Their food grows from the ground and they have the advantage of numbers. Hopefully this rat is found before we have a repeat of today’s theatrics.”
Ignatius nodded in agreement and set off into the skies to join his brethren. Evening was upon them and hunger pangs were setting in. Even for a transcendent being like Sappheire, there was no higher priority in her mind than supper. Wingless she might have been, but as she made haste for her home and her unkempt balcony, it looked as if she was floating on a cushion of air.
The chef had made a buffet of all the family’s favourites. There were rhubarb pastries and little cakes and salads of every leaf with every kind of dressing. Candles had been lit and a string quartet accompanied the meal. Salem was at the head of the table. None of the food had been touched. They had waited. Sappheire was glad.
She took a seat next to her youngest charge and immediately grasped a napkin and started cleaning Sierra’s dirty muzzle.
“Mom, quit it!”
She protested.
The queen giggled and used a spoon to flick a dollop of pureed potato onto Sierra’s snout. It was taken in good humour and finally the highly strung king relaxed. He slouched in his rather fancy chair and nibbled on a spring onion, something he found most delectable.
Conversation was minimal as the royals tucked into the prepared dished. There was beetroot and samphire and saffron all laid out on the tablecloth soft as chiffon. There were rare petals and tasty seeds and a tankard of locally soured mead, but that was reserved for the king. They enjoyed pak-choi and other exotic dishes, as well as anything to serve their wishes.
They ate well. Sombra feasted like a king, a fat happy king. Sappheire was more tentative with her food. She didn’t really need the sustenance so much, but she enjoyed the taste. She yawned and nodded to the band. They left the family but left the bass, the cello and violas were they had played them. The chef come to check all was to their liking and some friendly words were shared.
Amber and Sierra started making their way to their cambers and Sombra quickly followed them, overtaking as if he were entrusted with their lives.
“We know the way, worrywart.”
“I know that. I just want to make sure you are tucked in and cosy. You know what might…”
“Relax, daddy, we’ll be as vigilant as can be.”
He tucked the sisters into their beds and blew out the candelabras as he left. He called for his dear wife and heard no reply. It wasn’t odd. She was probably stargazing as she usually did when night was spreading across the land.
He reached the giant doors to the boudoir and they were carefully pushed open by the pair of attendees that stood guard. He thanked them with a firm hoof shake, as he usually did, as he normally did, and flopped into bed, his head on one pillow and the rest of him on the other.
Celestia’s sun fell and the eerie glow of the moon bled from behind the great dragon monuments. Salem closed his heavy eyes and landed back in the clutches of the poisonous nightmare.