//------------------------------//
//  15) Nulpar Tour: Days 32-38, Norton - Part 2 
// Story: Climbing the Mountain 2 
// by Talon and Thorn 
//------------------------------//

“You there! In the sky!” called Max, trying to channel a mix of Fisher, Mellow and Blueblood. “I want to talk to your leader immediately!”
 
“What?” screeched the griffoness guard as she swooped down towards him. Max could have just shouted over at Guntram – he was only a few dozen feet away at the fire, and in fact his ear tufts had perked up at Max’s voice – but Max thought this would be the best way to attract as much attention as possible, particularly from the griffon most likely to be watching the tent. “What do you want?” she demanded.
 
“I want to talk to your boss, not some flunky.” He waved a hoof at her imperiously. “I have something important to tell him!” The white griffon’s eyes went wide, and with a swishing sound she whipped out her mace. Max swallowed hard. Maybe he’d gone a bit far. Well, in for a jangle, in for a bit. “How dare you draw a weapon on me! Don’t you know who I am?!” A frown passed over her face as the mace’s head, almost as large as Max’s, hovered in the air. As a bead of sweat dripped down Max’s face, he couldn’t help his eyes flicking to one side. From this angle, he could just about see Bread and a pair of foals starting to scramble up the cliff. Glancing over, he noted that Endre was staring over at him, looking thoughtful. He didn’t seem to have noticed the escape attempt either. Or if he had, he hadn’t raised the alarm.  
 
“What’s going on here?” came a cry, and Max turned back to see Guntram stalking over from the fire, followed by the rest of the bandits. “What are you shouting about?” Max could smell the stink of home-made alcohol coming off of him.
 
“I... I can’t stand this one moment longer,” cried Max, trying to get back into character. “Having to sleep in a tent, and all those,” he shuddered, “foals around. It's like Tartarus.”
 
“My heart bleeds,” muttered Guntram, and the giant female let out another hissing laugh as she continued to hold her mace not far from Max’s head. “Now get back in there!” He pointed back towards the tent.
 
“No!” cried Max, trying to distract him again. “I can pay! You wanted a ransom, I can pay it, more than you could ever want, just let me spend the night in a decent bed!”
 
“How can you pay?” asked Guntram, cocking his head. “You didn’t have many bits on you.”
 
“A baron does not carry money! Well, not much anyway, just small change. I may not have an army with me, but I do have servants. Somepony like me would always have servants. They hold my money, thousands of bits’ worth. And my supplies, you couldn’t expect me to stomach mere peasant gruel, would you? And I only demand the finest of wines as well.”
 
Guntram looked down at the empty bowls of stew nearby. “Go on,” he said.
 
“They’re camped not far from here, waiting for my return. If they don’t hear from me they’ll leave to get help. I’ll tell you where if you let me go, I won’t even tell the princess what happened, it’s far too embarrassing to be taken by common bandits.” Guntram growled. “No matter how pow... powerful they might be,” added Max.
 
“Show me!” demanded the griffon. “And I might consider letting you go.”
 
Max’s eyes darted back to the cliff; a trail of foals were winding their way up it. He had to stall for a bit longer. “No! I can’t just accept your word for this! We need this in writing!” He ducked under the large griffon’s weapon and trotted towards the remains of his saddlebags. He expected at any moment to feel a bolt or a sword blade to his back, but instead the bandits followed, blinking stupidly. Whatever they had been drinking must be potent stuff. Max grabbed a notebook from the pile of his belongings and ripped out a page with a few doodles of a train on them, before turning it over and scribbling on the back.
 
“What are you doing?” asked Guntram.
 
“Writing a contract, of course, it’s very important to deal with any possible dispute,” said Max around the pencil. He found himself scribbling down whatever came to mind, unable to concentrate properly, then started on a pretend map of the area showing where his ‘entourage’ was staying.
 
“What is this?” roared Guntram, tearing the paper from Max’s hooves and peering at it. “What does it say?” He tossed the paper to the unicorn, who caught it in his aura and turned it the right way up.
 
“I Baron Mounty Max being a baron of the night court and running Nulpar on behalf of Princess Luna do start to write an important contact between me and the bandits who have kidnapped the foals of North Town. In this document I declare that Fragrant has very nice legs which I’ll probably never get to see again, and that the bandits are all very bad ponies and griffons, and a not quite so bad moose and... This is gibberish, boss!”
 
“You’re trying to distract us!” cried Guntram, drawing his sword. The rest of the bandits likewise drew their weapons and pointed them at Max, who closed his eyes, waiting for the end. “Snowdrop!” roared the griffon.
 
Max opened one eye to peer at the tent. Snowdrop poked her head out. Despite her white coat, she looked ever paler than normal. “P...P...Please be quiet, I just... just got the foals to sleep,” she stuttered.
 
“Show me!” cried Guntram, swooping towards the tent, with most of the rest of his gang following him. Max made to move, but one of the twin griffons held her crossbow to his head. Guntram grabbed the tent flap and literally tore it aside, throwing away the loose fabric. The inside of the tent was empty.
 
“It’s not my fault!” cried Snowdrop. “It was Bread, she said she’d kill me if I told anyone, she’s crazy.” With a roar, Guntram lashed out with his sword. Snowdrop dropped to the floor crying as the blade flashed over her head and slashed into the tent wall.
 
“Where are they!”
 
“They... they... they... they went that way.” She pointed towards the exit from the pass leading away from North Town. “Bread said she knew you’d search the village so she hid... hid them in a ca... cave, not far that way. Please don’t hurt them! They’re just children!”
 
“Star Scream, Thunder Cracker, Gottlob, Gundrun! Get after them, bring them back, I want the mare alive... just.” He turned back to Snowdrop and viciously back-taloned her across the face, knocking her to the ground. He turned to Max, now guarded by the giant griffoness. “You tricked me!” he spat.
 
“Yes,” said Max, trying to back away, only to find his escape blocked by the towering mass of feathers. The griffoness giggled again. Max really hated that sound. “I think you should leave right now, because now that you don’t have your hostages, the townsponies will...”
 
“Shut up!” cried Guntram, slashing out at Max with his talons. They cut shallow furrows into his flank, making him cry out and fall to the ground. “I’m going to hurt you so bad, you’re going to wish...” He raised his sword.
 
“Maybe you shouldn’t,” intoned Endre, sounding almost bored.
 
“What?” cried Guntram, turning to the moose, “Are you challenging me?” he growled.
 
“No, it’s just that he might still be ransomable, and two hostages are better than none.” He gestured between Max and Snowdrop, who was still curled on the ground crying.
 
Guntram looked back and forth between the stoic warrior and Max for a moment before lowering his sword. Max let out a sigh of relief, which quickly became a cry of pain as the bandit leader smashed his fist into Max’s belly and then face. “Tie him up!” he commanded.
 
Max was quickly and roughly bound and thrown into the remains of the children’s tent with Snowdrop. “The kids should be back at the village by now,” whispered Max after a few minutes. He could taste the tang of his own blood in his mouth. “It was very brave of you, sending them in the wrong direction. Why didn’t you leave with them?” he asked Snowdrop.
 
“I...I thought I might be able to cover for them, even if only for a few minutes. I... I should have listened to Bread earlier. We should have done this when they first took the foals. What are we going to do now? What are they going to do to us?” she sobbed quietly.
 
“I’m sure they still need us,” said Max, trying to sound cheerful. “They’ll probably run now that they don’t have the foals.”
 
After a few more minutes the hunting party returned, and to Max’s relief they were empty-taloned. “We found the cave, boss,” said the red pegasus nervously. “It was pretty big, but we searched it all. No sign of them,” she admitted.
 
Guntram’s frowned, then turned to his captives, eyes blazing. “You lied to me!” he roared, stamping over and grasping Snowdrop by her neck, lifting her off the ground.
 
“We better get moving, boss,” cried the blue pegasus. “The villagers could be here any minute.”
 
“They’re just pathetic ponies,” cried Guntram, not taking his eyes off of Snowdrop who was gasping for breath. The two pegasus scowled.
 
“Yeah, but there’s a lot of them,” said the unicorn.
 
“So we take their foals back,” said the bandit leader with a shrug.
 
“It won’t be as easy this time. They’ll be ready for us,” said Endre.
 
“Shut up! I’m in charge here, I make the decisions!” screamed Guntram. “And I say we gut this little traitor! Then we head back into town and get those foals back, and if anypony gets in our way, they don’t stay standing!” He drew his sword and held it at Snowdrop’s abdomen. “Any last words?” he asked, loosening his grip on her throat.
 
“You stole our children!” she screamed with enough force to make the griffon flinch for a moment. “You made me ashamed of being glad that my son wasn’t among them! Now at least my husband can look our neighbours in the eye again, knowing he’s lost somepony as well. I hate you!” she spat in Guntram’s eye.
 
The griffon reared back, then started to jab the blade forwards. “Stop!” cried Max.
 
To both of their surprise, Guntram did. “Do you want to be next?” he asked.
 
“You should do the smart thing and run,” said Max, trying to sound reasonable. He couldn’t allow any of his people to suffer for him. It was he that had brought the situation to a head, after all. “Listen to your people. You’re going to get them killed.”
 
“Their opinion doesn’t matter, just mine, I’m in charge here!” He swung his gaze around the camp. Several of the bandits didn’t look so sure about this.
 
“Then I challenge you for leadership!” cried Max.
 
“You what?” asked Guntram, looking genuinely astonished.
 
“I challenge you for leadership of this group, a fight, I win I get your troops, you win... you get Nulpar,” said Max desperately. He was fairly sure succession didn’t work that way in Equestria.  
 
“I certainly think that the baron might make a better leader,” said Endre, holding his axe over one shoulder. The unicorn next to him nodded as well. Even the twin griffons looked intrigued.
 
“Shut up!” cried Guntram, dropping Snowdrop. She gasped for breath and crawled a few paces away.
 
“Or are you chicken?” chided Max.
 
“What did you call me?” growled Guntram, turning to face the baron.
 
“Oh, sorry. You’re only half a chicken, the other half is a scaredy cat!”
 
“I’ll gut you for that,” hissed the enraged Griffon, advancing on Max.
 
“You accept his challenge, then?” said the large griffoness.
 
“Fine!” exclaimed Guntram. “I accept his challenge. Let’s get this over with.”
 
Endre stepped forwards and deftly cut Max’s bonds with his axe. “What weapon do you declare?” he asked.
 
“Oh, well, I don’t really know much about weapons...” began Max.
 
“See, he doesn’t want a weapon,” said Guntram. “I declare sword and crossbow!” He raised the former so it glinted in the final light of the day, and then carefully loaded the latter.
 
“That doesn’t seem very fair,” protested Max.
 
“Tough!”
 
“Um, do you have any advice?” said Max to Endre as he stretched out his cramped limbs.
 
The moose though for a moment. “Don’t die,” he concluded.
 
“Thanks,” said Max lowering his ears.
 
“My pleasure. I will enjoy working for you.” He gave a very brief smile, or maybe Max just imagined it.
 
“Let’s get this over with,” announced Guntram, positioning himself at one side of the camp opposite the fire from Max.
 
“The duel will start upon the count of three,” said the large griffoness, “and will end with the death, or surrender, of one of the parties. The loser’s life will be left in the talons of the winner. One...” she began.
 
Max flashed back to his fight against archduke Fisher several months ago. He’d won that by outlasting his opponent. The same tactic might work here, if the villagers were on the way to save him, but he wasn’t sure if he could rely on that. Maybe he could try to run? But he was certain his opponent would kill Snowdrop then. He glanced around the area. There were several cliff faces that he could probably scramble up; maybe he could out-manoeuvre his opponent? Then he noticed Guntram spreading his wings wide. Maybe not.
 
“Two...”
 
Still, he might have more luck on the cliffs. He could probably find some cover among the rocks, maybe a cave even. It would put Guntram at a disadvantage due to his larger size; maybe stop him swinging his sword? Although his talons could probably do just as good a job.
 
“Three!”
 
Before Max could even move, Guntram raised the crossbow strapped to his arm and targeted the baron. The bolt shot forth and Max hurled himself to the side, feeling the shot cut a furrow across his scalp. Unlike Fisher, Guntram was not playing with him; if he’d been a fraction of a second later, he’d be dead straight off. He had to get rid of the crossbow; even if he did manage to get to the cliffs the griffon could pick him off at range. Changing plans, Max hurled himself forwards and charged straight at his opponent over the fire.
 
Guntram had started to reload and was apparently surprised by Max’s bold action. The fresh bolt dropped from his beak as he switched to his sword. Max managed to leap over his hurried swing and crashed straight into the griffon’s face, bowling both of them over. Max rolled aside and leaped to his hooves, only to find Guntram had recovered just as quickly. Desperately, Max spun around and lashed out with his hind legs; his aim was true and they slammed into the Guntram’s foreleg. The griffon gave a yell of pain and snatched back the limb, then he noticed the ruined mechanism on his weapon and roared.
 
Max took the moment’s opportunity to turn tail and rush straight towards the nearest cliff. He leapt onto the slope and started to climb like his life depended on it, which it did. He had gotten maybe half a dozen lengths before he felt a wind whip past, followed by talons slashing against his back. Biting back a cry, Max held on and climbed even faster as his opponent circled for another strike.
 
He had almost reached the top of the cliff when he saw Guntram approaching again out of the corner of his eye. This time, rather than use his own talons, the griffon had drawn his sword. He was approaching slower this time, apparently moving up to hover and chop Max into pieces rather than catch him as he swooped past. The sight distracted Max, and one of his hooves slipped, dropping him a length down the cliff before he could catch a hoofhold again. The mistake saved his life as the blade flashed through the area he had been in and glanced off the rock, throwing the hovering griffon back with it. Max used the distraction to rush up the cliff and over the top just as the griffon recovered.
 
To Max’s joy, the top of the cliff consisted of a gentle slope dotted with large boulders. He hurled himself behind the nearest one and tried to be a quiet as possible. Seconds later, the griffon shot past and flashed up into the air, looking down on the field of rocks below him. Max hoped that griffons couldn’t see in the dark or anything; the dusk gloom was something that he could use to his advantage.
 
“Come out, coward!” screamed Guntram as he swooped back down to the ground. “Come out and I’ll make it quick! Otherwise, I can make it very, very slow!” Quick as a flash, he spun around a boulder, his sword raised only to find nopony there. The following few minutes consisted of a deadly game of hide and seek, as Max tried to creep from rock to rock while his opponent tried to locate him in the gloom.
 
Once Max broke cover too soon and ran right next to his opponent. It must have been a miracle that he wasn’t seen, or had it been? He had been on his opponent's blind side! As long as he stayed near Guntram’s injured eye he should be undetected, he hoped!
 
“I can smell you!” growled the griffon, prowling between the rocks, sword at the ready. “You stink of fear, it makes me hungry!” Drool pooled from his beak, making Max feel sick. However did he get into these situations? Other nobles seemed to be able to go for months at a time without ending up in life or death situations. Why was he different? He leapt from his hiding place, careful to stay on Guntram’s left side. However, this time his hoof knocked against a pile of loose stones and they fell with a clatter. Quick as lightning, Guntram struck out with his sword. Max threw himself aside, but Guntram managed to turn his blow at the last moment and the flat of the blade still smashed into the side of Max’s head. Bright stars flashed in his vision and he momentarily lost feeling in his legs as he tumbled to his side. He looked up, blinking as he saw two versions of Guntram advancing on him. Gritting his teeth, he willed his battered body to obey him, managing to get his hooves under him and stagger away with the griffon in pursuit. He couldn’t afford another hit like that.
 
Behind him, he heard his opponent take to the wing again. Gritting his teeth, he forced his legs to move faster. Blinking to try and clear his vision, Max saw the cliff edge coming up to meet him very quickly. “Nowhere to go now,” taunted Guntram. Looking left and right, it seemed that his opponent was correct; if he turned, his opponent would be on him in seconds, and if he didn’t, he’d be over the cliff in only a few more. Max did the only thing he could think of: he dug in his heels and skidded along the ground before coming to a halt. Surprised, Guntram shot straight over Max’s head and past the edge of the cliff, before twisting in the air, ready to come at him again.
 
Not thinking, Max leapt out into the air and slammed into his opponent, knocking the sword from his talons and sending both of them tumbling towards the ground far below. Guntram lashed out, cutting further furrows into Max’s side, while in return Max pummelled him with his hooves as best he could. “You’re crazy!” gasped the griffon, as he tried to regain control of his wings enough to check their fall. Not wasting his breath, Max slammed his head forwards into the griffon’s, and was rewarded by his vision whiting out again. When he could see once more, the ground was only a few lengths away and coming up quickly. With a shrug, Guntram finally managed to dislodge his opponent, and threw Max towards the ground. However, as he did so, a flailing hoof lashed out, catching him on the wing and sending him down to join his opponent.
 
Max hit the ground with bone-rattling force. He may even have blacked out for a few seconds, but as soon as he could, he forced his complaining body back to his hooves. He had to finish the fight. He swayed for a moment before catching sight of his opponent lying in a heap not far away. The griffon seemed almost as badly injured as he was; he was feebly trying to get his claws back under him, and one entire flank was scraped raw by his landing. Moving as quickly as he could, Max made his way unsteadily to the bandit leader. He had to finish this now before Guntram recovered.
 
Arriving just a few seconds too late, Max saw his opponent roll onto his unsteady limbs and turn to face him, swaying on the spot. “Surrender!” slurred Max.
 
“Never!” croaked Guntram as he gathered his paws beneath him to leap forwards. However, one did not take his weight, and he collapsed to one side, groaning. Giving a sigh of relief, Max rested a hoof heavily on his defeated opponent. He looked around, blinking, finally taking in the environment about him. What was going on? he thought. There was fighting all around him.
 
In the skies above, the bandit pegasi swooped and rolled away from a flock of townsfolk, spears clattering against the hoes and spades the locals were using as improvised weapons. As Max watched open-mouthed, one of the villagers brought their weapon down on the wing of the red pegasus bandit; there was a crack that made her attacker visibly wince, and the bandit let out a shrill screech before she plummeted to the ground. She was caught during her fall by her blue companion, and he gently laid her down on the ground before raising his hooves in surrender to his attackers.
 
The other bandits were apparently not giving up as easily. The giant griffoness was being guarded by several injured villagers as she lay on the ground, moaning and clutching at a head wound, but her fellow griffons were still fighting despite being surrounded by a circle of enemies. They were prevented from flying by lassos which has been caught around their legs; several ponies were yanking on them to keep them off balance and preventing them from aiming their crossbows.
 
Endre the moose was surrounded by half a dozen or more locals. He had reared up and was spinning in place, using his axe to force them to keep their distance. It was a stand-off; none of the ponies seemed willing to risk attacking the mercenary, whereas he seemed content to remain on the defensive.
 
The bandit unicorn was duelling with a number of horned villagers; he had erected a shiny barrier in front of him, which seemed to be turning any spells directed at him back at their casters, forcing them to jump for cover. As Max watched, he was finally overcome as an earth pony and a goat charged at him with their heads lowered. Panicked, the unicorn let off a blast from his horn at them while he tried to back off; it hit the pony, making him stagger but not stopping him. The two crashed through the shield, which disappeared, before their charge carried them on into the unicorn. Their combined momentum smashed him from his hooves. Before he could regain his balance, the two of them had restrained him.
 
“Sorry we didn’t get here sooner, baron,” came a cry from beside him. Max turned to see Big Wig standing there with Snowdrop. The stallion was bleeding from some minor wounds. “I gathered together as many ponies as I could once we found out that Bread was missing! We didn’t expect her to come back with the foals, we can never thank you enough for that! Soon as they were safe I sent out pegasi to the farms! I didn’t expect most of them to come, but they did! Almost all of them! Thanks to your distraction, we managed to catch them by surprise!”
 
Max grinned, and then found that even that hurt at the moment. It looked like the fighting would be over soon, and nopony seemed to have gotten seriously hurt. Suddenly he found himself thrown to one side, as the griffon under his hoof threw him off and gathered himself to his feet. Barging the shocked Big Wig aside, Guntram grabbed Snowdrop by her throat. “All of you stop fighting!” he cried. “All stop, or I tear out her throat!” The griffon was swaying slightly on the spot, but still looked capable of carrying out his threat.
 
Immediately the sounds of battle died down as all the fighters turned to see what was going on. “No, please don’t!” cried Big Wig, stepping forwards.
 
“Now just calm down,” said Max. “Things don’t have to end like this! Think this through. If you hurt her, then there’s no way you’re going to be able to get away from this.”
 
“Shut up! Shut up!” screamed Guntram. “You’re going to let us all go, let us leave this area, then you get this little bitch back.”
 
“Ok,” agreed Max. “We can talk about this, sort something out.”
 
“No, no talking, just let us go!”
 
“If we let you go, you’ll just go do the same thing again, won’t you?” asked Big Wig quietly. “Take somepony else’s children?”
 
“That doesn’t matter!” cried Guntram, tightening his grip on Snowdrop’s neck. “Let us go, or she dies!”
 
Big Wig’s eyes locked with those of his wife, and almost imperceptibly she nodded before closing her eyes.
 
Max’s eyes widened. “No, wait!” he cried, but before he could act, Snowdrop jerked her head forwards, blood seeping from her neck as the griffon's talons bit in. She convulsively struck out with her hind legs as she fell forwards, catching her captor in the chest and sending him flying back. Instantly, Big Wig lunged forwards, leaping clear over his wife and landing on Guntram. He brought back a hoof and slammed it into the stunned bandit’s face, then again and again.
 
“Stop!” cried Max, rushing forwards as quickly as he could given his injuries. Other ponies were in motion around him; one unicorn leapt to Snowdrop’s side, covering her wounds with her aura, while a pegasus quickly started to unroll a linen bandage. “Stop!” he repeated, grabbing Big Wig’s hoof as he swung again. “He’s had enough.” Big Wig turned to him, eyes wild. “It’s over!” he added. The village leader blinked a few times, then nodded before turning and rushing to his wife’s side. “Now,” said Max, feeling his body complain as he hauled the barely conscious griffon up. “Call it off!”
 
“We... we surrender!” mumbled Guntram through a cracked beak.
 
“Louder!”
 
“We give up! Stand down!” he shouted.
 
Instantly, Endre dropped to all four hooves and lowered his axe, returning to a resting stance and not even reacting when one of the ponies around him scuttled forwards and grabbed his weapon. The two remaining griffons looked up in surprise, then looked around the camp and saw that the odds were solidly against them, before surrendering with less grace.
 
The fight was over, and Max decided to celebrate by collapsing and passing out.
 



 
It was over a day before Max came to again. He found himself on a cot set up in the town hall, which had been converted into a makeshift infirmary for the wounded from the battle. He was pleased to find out that there had been no fatalities, and by some minor miracle, no major injuries, although almost every pony in town was left bandaged in some way, and several like him had been laid up for some time.
 
The bandits, although bound, were under heavy guard but likewise being cared for, if somewhat begrudgingly. Guntram’s battered head was so covered in bandages that only his beak poked out, and even that was taped up, preventing him from speaking. His giant second in command still looked rather dazed from her head injury, unless that was how she was all the time. The red pegasus looked distinctly sorry for herself. Her broken wing was strapped up at an awkward-looking angle, and her blue lover huddled close to her, hugging her with one wing while mumbling in her ear. The other bandits all looked beaten and worried; only Endre seemed unconcerned, sitting placidly a short distance from his companions.
 
It was lucky that, unlike Sharpside, North Town seemed to have a few trained medics; two unicorn sisters were using their magic on the injured, and Big Wig himself seemed to be adept at sewing wounds. Max assumed that the unicorns had inherited their skills rather than receiving formal training, given how far they were from any medical schools. Most of their medicines seemed much more homemade than those House Martin prescribed at home. Once they had checked him out and he was released, Big Wig and several other townsfolk praised him for his help in defeating the bandits. The immediate thanks done, the talk moved on to the stickier matters of what to do with the bandits.
 
“We just don’t have the ponypower to guard them long term!” exclaimed Big Wig. “Harvest is just around the corner, and given the number of injured, we’ll be lucky to bring in enough crops to feed ourselves, let alone trade. The amount of food they’ve extorted from us doesn’t help.”
 
“How about we put them to work?” suggested one of the other town’s ponies present. The meeting wasn’t exactly private – it was taking place in one corner of the town hall – but given the number of ponies passing through, quite a crowd was gathering once they had overheard the topic in question. Even the bandits themselves were looking over towards them with interest. “A few seasons working on the farms would straighten them out. Maybe spread them out, one per homestead?” In their corner, the blue pegasus drew his lover closer possessively.
 
“Wouldn’t they just fly away?” asked an earth pony.
 
“We could tie them down or something!” The idea seemed to gather quite some support.
 
“Um, I don’t think we’re allowed to do that. It would be slavery,” said Max, wishing he’d read more about Equestrian law.
 
Big Wig frowned. “I thought they put criminals to work all the time, help to rehabilitate them.”
 
“Once they’ve been sentenced, if they agree, I think. They have to get a trial first.” Max grimaced. There weren’t any courts in Nulpar yet. They’d have to be taken to Ambelon or Rushia for that. Given where they were, that was probably a trip of two, maybe three weeks.
 
“Why should they get a trial!” cried Bread. “We all know what they did!” She was clutching her son to her. As far as Max knew, she literally hadn’t let him go since she got him back. The colt didn’t seem pleased about this and was struggling in her grasp.
 
“Every Equestrian deserves a trial!” exclaimed Max. “It’s the law!”
 
“They probably aren't even Equestrians. Most of them are griffon, probably down from the kingdoms.”
 
Max tilted his head and winced a bit as stiff muscles complained. Judging from what Endre had said, that was probably true. But, again, he didn’t know what that meant; they should probably still get a trial, or hearing, or something. “It doesn’t matter. We still need to follow the law. We need to be better than they are.”
 
“How are we going to get them to a court, anyway?” asked a random donkey. “That’ll take weeks, and we’ll need guards to transport them. We don’t have the free ponies. I say we just cut them loose, throw them out of town, good riddance.”
 
“Won’t they just move on to another village?” asked somepony else.
 
“So what? None of them helped us. Serves them right.”
 
“We are not letting them get away!” came a croaky voice. Snowdrop stepped forwards, her throat still wrapped in bandages. “We didn’t sacrifice all this just to force others to have to go through the same thing. We are not doing what he,” she pointed at Guntram furiously, “wanted us to do.”
 
“Maybe if we split them up, sent them out one at a time?” mumbled the donkey, looking away from the white mare.
 
“What do you say, baron?” asked Big Wig, resting a leg on his wife's back. “You’re in charge. What should we do with them?”
 
Max stood up. He didn’t like having to make this sort of decision, but it was his responsibility. In some ways, the whole incident was his fault. “I’m... I’m sorry all this had to happen to you in the first place. It’s my job to protect you, I should have had something in place to have helped you...”
 
“You did help us, baron,” interrupted Bread. “You saved us, you saved our children when none of us were brave enough to. Thank you, baron.”
 
A cheer went up around the room and several ponies slapped him on the back. Max felt his heart soar at the attention. “Thank you! Thank you!” He held up a hoof for silence. “We will have to take them off for trial, and you are going to have to provide a guard, maybe a dozen strong ponies.” The cheering quickly died off. “You’ll only have to transport them to a larger town, maybe a week; once there, I’ll buy you supplies to make up for the loss.” He hoped. He’d reclaimed the money the bandits had taken from him, but this would take a big chunk out of his finances. “I’ll recommend to the judge that they be offered penal servitude here, to make up for their crimes.” He glanced over at the prisoners. He wasn’t sure how many of them would accept. He probably wouldn’t trust Guntram not to try and escape; maybe the pegasi or some of the griffons? As for Endre, who knew? He guessed judges were trained to tell if they would be flight risks or not. There was a general mumbling from the crowd. His declaration seemed to have received a mixed reaction.
 
Big Wig looked like he was going to argue for a moment, then nodded. “Very well, baron, I’ll organise a group.”
 
“You can probably wait a few days at least. The town and I could use some rest first. Plus I’d like to see the place and the ponies under better situations. See what I can do to help you.”
 
“Thank you, baron,” said Big Wig as the crowd started to dissipate a bit. “Maybe we can talk more somewhere else?”
 
“Sure,” said Max, standing with some effort and heading towards the door.
 
“Baron,” came a cry. Max turned to see that it had come from Endre, who stepped forwards towards him. One of the guards moved to try and push him back, but Max waved him away. “I heard your decision. You ponies seem to be a merciful lot.”
 
“We try to be, but we don’t accept everything.”
 
The moose nodded. “Maybe once my contract is up, your judge may assign me to your military. That is normally the way of things in the outer griffon kingdoms.”
 
“I don’t think things work that way here in Equestria.”
 
“We shall see, baron,” he said with a shrug.
 
“Maybe you should accept working off your debt here? I’m sure your children would rather you provided for them working on a farm than fighting.”
 
“Ah, baron, I may not understand Equestrians, but you do not understand my people. Still, as I said, we will see. It was good to meet you.”

“You too, Endre,” said Max.