CHAPTER TWENTY ONE
TRACKS IN THE SNOW
Thorn trudged through the snow, following the faint trail of the boy. The young thestral had made camp here and had done a fairly good job of covering it up as well, but not quite good enough. The major sniffed the air. There was a hint of something warm, something metallic, and a sense of…death. The forest knew, the trees, the bushes—they all remembered. All a good tracker needed to do was to ask the right questions, to read the signs no matter how seemingly insignificant. Thorn closed his eyes and calmed his thoughts, listening to the world around him.
Shaking the snow from his mane, he snorted and looked up at the sky. It was snowing again. How he missed the hot springs, the way the water would soak into his fur, the heat easing the accumulated aches and pains in his joints. He wasn’t old, but by the moon, he felt it more with each passing day. Countless fights, skirmishes, battles—it was hard to distinguish one from another now, the passage of time eroding his memory until they all seemed like they’d happened to someone else, a long, long time ago.
All in all, it had been ultimately pointless. The tribe’s lands were no bigger or smaller than they ever had been. Only their numbers shrank and dwindled all the time. One plague, one large war back home, and they would probably become extinct within a few decades. With Nightmare Moon’s blessing, all this would change. The thestral race would recover, thrive once more.
It pained him to think that he had to take the life of one of his own, that even now, after everything that had happened, thestrals were still killing one another. Thorn sighed to himself. That evil drug had been behind this. When he returned, he would speak to the colonel and have something done about that accursed blight on their race once and for all.
Thorn brushed away a patch of snow from his flank with a quick swish of his tail, refocusing on the sounds and smells of the forest. The scent was closer now, leading him through the next few trees and into what was looking to be a small clearing. He instinctively checked to ensure his axe was still ready to hoof on his back, and slunk low to the ground, listening… waiting.
Nothing.
No sound, no birds, no movement, not even a breeze stirred here. The major’s hackles were up, but he knew he’d have to look, have to see. What choice did he have?
Slowly, cautiously, he moved to the edge of the clearing and peered in through the bushes, his already keen senses stretched to their limit. Earlier in the year, in the heat of summer, this place would have been swarming with flies. As it was, the corpse was a partially frozen mound, covered in the pure white shroud of the latest snowfall. He moved up to it and stopped in his tracks.
There, just below the frozen body, concealed by mud and snow, was a length of cord. Cautiously following it back, the hidden makeshift rope led to a concealed log covered in lethally sharp bamboo spikes, deadly to anyone whose curiosity got the better of them. Or him.
Thorn took up a stick in his forehooves and hooked part of it under the cording and pulled. There was a loud crash as gravity took hold, and the wickedly spiked log swung down at chest height, sweeping through the clearing. Anyone in its path would have been killed or maimed without doubt. Even Thorn’s armour wouldn’t have protected him completely. He gave wry grin.
“Clever boy…”
Either the lad was supremely cautious, or he knew Thorn was tracking him. It would be safest to assume the latter. Thorn’s training had always included the worst possible scenario as being the most likely, encouraging him to always have a backup plan and never to be too headstrong. There was a time and a place for decisive, prompt action, and similarly a time for caution. Right now, caution was the order of the day. If this fool actually managed to kill Celestia, who knew what the ramifications would be. The goddess might turn on them in her fury at having his sister killed against her orders. Alive, there was at least some chance of having the rest of the Celestians surrender, if only the princess of the sun could be persuaded to listen to reason.
Thorn shook his head at the notion. He’d seen Celestia in battle, watched her fight; the fire in her eyes, that determination… it was exhilarating. That mare could fight, and fight well. The major smiled to himself. She would have made a fine mate. It was foolishness of course, a colt’s passing fancy, but despite his weariness in muscle and bone, he was still a stallion and… well, he could indulge himself in a little fantasy, couldn’t he?
The major walked away from the clearing. Foxes and wolves would eventually clear away the carcass, and soon the life that had been extinguished here would be as if it had never existed. The forest would swallow the evidence of the young warrior’s deeds, the child returning to the earth from where he had once come. Thorn gritted his teeth, blinking away the snow and peering down at the tracks. He hadn’t been mistaken after all. There were two of them; the thestral and one other, a human. A captive? Maybe, but it was better to be on his guard just in case.
That night, he looked about for a place to sleep. Tracking the young one meant lighting a fire was out of the question, and he’d had to resort to using bits of rags and other clothing items he’d found on the bodies of the dead to fashion a makeshift cloak for himself. It wasn’t pretty, but it would be better than freezing to death out here in this seemingly endless forest. Constructing a makeshift shelter, Thorn lay down on the bed of branches he’d built up to keep out of the snow. Curling his legs underneath himself, he wrapped the patchwork cloak around his body and settled in for the night.
Dozing fitfully, Thorn drifted in and out of sleep. He dreamt of home, the land of the Beyond with its beautiful crystalline trees, their kaleidoscope colours changing as he flew high overhead. He remembered the black river and its huge translucent fish that he used to catch as a foal, and the miles of white grass that twinkled like diamonds.
The memories tugged at his heart, a heart hardened by years of war, yet still he remained whom he had always been deep inside. Somewhere within the battle-hardened and weathered exterior, the young Thorn frolicked and played by the side of the black river, his father trying to show him how to fish. He didn’t care about that—it was far more fun to run and jump, flapping his wings as hard as he could. That was before he fell headlong into the fast-running water.
His father had saved him, of course, flying in to grab the foolish youth in his hooves and dump him sodden and coughing onto the white grass of the bankside. He had tanned Thorn’s backside raw for that stunt, and so he made sure he always listened to his father after that. He’d also developed quite a healthy respect for water in the process. Speaking of rain, the weather was changing. A blast of coolness tore through his shelter and brought with it a bitterness that foretold of worse to come. Sure enough, the relentless snow began to impact harder and faster around him. Hail was something Thorn wasn’t familiar with. The Beyond didn’t particularly have much in the way of weather systems, and he had been especially fascinated with the ones he had encountered in Equestria when he had arrived there with the others. It was all so…bright.
The hail struck the shelter in waves, breaking upon it like a rock at sea. The stinging granules made him huddle further into the shelter and pull the cloak over his head. Thorn sighed, shaking his head in dismay. Perhaps the Beyond had more in its favour than he had given it credit for. Despite the relative blandness of the surroundings, it was his home and Equestria was still alien territory… very alien. Goddess damn this weather. Thestrals weren’t meant to be out in this!
The miserable night continued.
What passed for daylight gradually began to filter through the seamless pall of grey that hung over the land. The major awoke, rubbing his eyes and taking a swig of water from his canteen. Dried fish made for an expedient breakfast before he shook himself free of the remains of the shelter and broke camp. He searched around the site for a while, but already knew the answer. Any tracks left by the boy and the human were gone, buried by the snow and ice. There were, however, still some signs of their passing: the odd broken twig, the occasional hair or pushed-down grass that poked through the snow. There wasn’t much, but there was enough. If nothing else, at least it gave him some hope that he would find them.
The sun was already climbing when Thorn glimpsed movement through the trees. It was a ways off, up the other side of a steep valley, above what looked to be a track or road. Was he mistaken? No… No, that was definitely him. He was keeping low and well-hidden, but it was him alright. The sunlight, as weak as it was, still illuminated the land enough to be able to make out his quarry. And there too, there was something else with him… the human.
Thorn kept himself low, moving slowly but steadily from tree to tree, keeping as much of the terrain between him and the other thestral as he could whilst still closing the distance. His gaze was so firmly locked on the warrior that he nearly missed the movement on the road. Below the boy was a column of humans, warriors by the looks of them, calmly walking along, clearly oblivious of the thestral above them. The major watched silently. As foolish as the boy was, no thestral would attack a force of that size and—
The bright flash and subsequent rumble was followed by a heavy landslide well ahead of the human warriors. Damn it! Was the boy insane?! Thorn kept moving as the second explosion went off, sending down another landslide to block off any escape route. The humans, oblivious of the trap they now found themselves in, stopped to try and clear the blockage in the road before them. Many of these warriors had removed their weapons and replaced them with shovels, picks, or simply used their hands to help move the debris.
It was all too easy…
The dense white smoke from the two blasts now began to slowly descend upon the road below as the killing began, additional cover being inadvertently added by their own warriors who were using some sort of magical weapon against their unseen foe.
The shouting, cries, and screams echoed around the hills as Thorn picked up speed, heading towards the battle. It was already far too apparent that the humans were hopelessly out of their depth. One by the one, their warriors fell, their shouts diminishing as their numbers dwindled.
The major had to stop and catch his breath, his heart pounding from his exertions and his lungs burning for air. Damn this stupid forest. As much as it hid him, it was simply too dense for him to fly, and it would do little more than make him a target as well. In the confusion of battle, the humans wouldn’t be able to distinguish one thestral from another and would no doubt turn on him also.
As much as it rankled, Thorn knew the only chance he had was to get as close as he could and observe. His time would come, soon enough.
It didn’t take long.
In what felt like no more than a few minutes, the shouting ceased. Straining his eyes, Thorn could make out some movement through the smoke. It was barely discernible, but it was the boy. A human, no… two humans, were there with him. One was tied up, another talking with the young warrior, reading from a piece of blood-stained parchment.
Thorn crept closer, keeping downwind as much as he could. Cold but inexorably at his hide, but with his focus on the other thestral, he barely noticed. Closer… Closer… The major was near enough now to hear them talking, their voices carrying clearly on the faint breeze.
“…the village and hunt the animal down that tragically took the life of Deputy Nile. You are ordered to bring the beast’s head back, undamaged, as proof of the completion of your task…”
The young warrior snorted, laughing out loud at the words. “Bring back the ‘beast’s’ head’?” He reared on his hind legs and swung his axe, burying it in the tree mere inches above the head of his captive. “Perhaps I should send back your head instead, human? Then your people will see for themselves just how weak they really are, and the folly of opposing the great goddess of the moon!”
The human flinched and visibly shook, probably more with fright than the cold. Whoever he was, he didn’t have the toned look of a warrior, and an opened document case lying nearby suggested he was more of a clerk than a soldier. The poor fellow was as white as a sheet. The other human interested him. He was conversing with warrior boy quite freely, and even his words made sense to Thorn. It was an odd dialect, but very Equestrian-like in form. His people had been taught the language, albeit somewhat rudimentary for the most part, prior to their arrival in the Equestrian lands. The intention was simple: it was for interrogation.
Thorn watched as the other human cruelly slammed the captive’s head against the tree and backhanded him, much to the amusement of the younger warrior. He grimaced. This wasn’t warfare; there was no honour in the mistreatment of prisoners. He knew it went on, of course—all armies did it to some degree—but it was still dishonourable. A warrior who had fallen should be treated as a brother, not like this…
“Lord Rend, do you wish me to kill him?” the large human asked, rubbing his hand.
“No, not yet.” The thestral watched his captive closely. “I may wish to amuse myself with him for a little while. I can feed later.” He looked at the wreckage of the cart. “I would know more of what is in these barrels and these… What did you call them?”
“Guns, Lord Rend.”
“Guns…” The thestral opened one of the barrels on the cart and sniffed at the contents, smiling to himself. Lifting some out with his hoof, he walked over to a rock and poured the fine black powder onto it. Stepping back a few feet, he took a deep breath and carefully sent out a thin sliver of flame.
In an instant, the powder ignited, giving off a white flash and a rolling cloud of smoke. Thorn could feel the heat it gave off even at this distance. So, the humans had a form of magic after all, did they? Or rather, alchemy. It was not unknown in the Beyond; thestrals had often experimented with different elements to try to create new and interesting ways of killing. He’d recognised the blast earlier as the improvised explosive they had been taught how to make as colts. How this boy had managed to find what was needed to produce it in this goddess-forsaken land he had no idea. The lad was more accomplished than he’d given him credit, but it still begged the question: why was he doing this? And what did the human call him earlier? ‘Lord Rend’?
The boy, ‘Rend’, lifted one of the guns and tried to operate it, the controls awkward to his equine hooves. “Show me.”
The large human grovelled in the snow, muttering something Thorn couldn’t hear. With a snarl, Rend barged him out of the way and approached the bound hostage, towering over him.
“You… human, show me.”
“I…I…”
“Untie him,” Rend spat at his colleague. “If he tries anything, cut him down.”
The large human quickly bowed again and hurried over to the other, severing his bonds with a quick flick of his short sword. The other male staggered, then rose to his feet.
“What… What do you want me to do?”
Rend growled, his temper already on a knife edge. “Show me how to use this!”
“No.”
“WHAT?!”
Thorn cringed. Rend was clearly not a thestral to be crossed, but by the goddess he had to admire the human’s courage.
Rend reared and howled his anger into the sky, the hills echoing with his screeching cry. His colleague, the larger human, appeared to be trying to dig his way into the earth, he was bowing so low. Thorn scratched his chin thoughtfully. So, it would seem the other human was subservient to him then. Was it out of fear…or something else?
Suddenly, the young warrior spun and kicked their hapless prisoner with a brutal blow that knocked him flat on his back. A sickening hollow crack suggested something had broken, making the major wince in sympathy. This wasn’t going to end well.
Rend shouted and raged at the man, his eyes flaring brightly. “Take off his shirt, human.”
“Yes, Lord.”
In short order, the prisoner had his shirt removed and his arms and legs staked out. Sitting on his haunches beside the human, Rend looked down at him dispassionately.
“I don’t think you understand the situation you are in, human. I ask you to do something, you do it. It’s not that difficult for your primitive brain to comprehend now, is it? Our friend Cray here, he understands. Don’t you, Cray?”
“Yes, Lord Rend.”
“You see? We want to be your friend as well. What’s your name?”
“G…” The man coughed. “Ghai.”
“Ghai? A good name, wouldn’t you say, Cray?”
“Yes, Lord Rend.”
“Yes… a good name…” The warrior lifted up a small bag with his hooves, manipulating it with his teeth until he had the thing open. “You see, Ghai, I don’t want to do this, but I have a task to perform, given to me by the goddess, and I have no choice. Don’t you see?” He smiled, the long translucent teeth making the young human swallow. “Come now, won’t you show me how to use these things and be my friend?”
“Go to hell.”
Rend’s eye twitched, his anger clearly beginning to boil over. “I see…”
He reached forward and tipped the black powder out onto the man’s chest. It was probably not enough to kill him, but sufficient to cause significant injury. Rend’s voice was dangerously low. “That was the wrong answer… Ghai.” He brought his muzzle close to the captive’s face. “I like to ‘experiment’, Ghai, to understand things. You know, try new things out.” He lifted a small bottle hanging from a thong around his neck and took a quick sniff, his eyes brightening significantly. “…Magnificent.”
Rend motioned to the other human he had named as ‘Cray’, who dutifully brought over a box of tapers he’d found in the wreckage. The thestral nodded his approval, sending a fine jet of flame out, until the end of the taper was burning merrily.
“You have until this burns down, Ghai. I suggest you think about your next answer very carefully. I assure you, you will assist me…” he laughed, “one way or another.” The thestral inhaled another huff of the powder around his neck. “Yes…one way or another…”
Ghai watched in silence as the taper gradually ran down, the small yellow flame flickering before his eyes. The creature, this ‘Lord Rend’ would kill him, of that he had no doubt whatsoever. Maybe not right away, but he eventually would, and he would be damned if he’d show the vile creature how to use guns. Truthfully, he wasn’t that sure himself, and in any case, this thing was more than capable of killing without them already. With them as well, gods knew what it could do. He closed his eyes and prayed. He was frightened, but wouldn’t let these two know that. A clerk he may be, but the blood of his forefathers ran through his veins, and he would have to stand before them again someday; maybe sooner than he thought at this rate.
The taper hissed in the cold mountain air until it began to gutter and finally ran out.
“Your answer, Ghai?”
The governor’s clerk opened his mouth to speak. He was so cold now, the ground was already freezing, and with no shirt on and out here, he’d probably die of exposure before these swine had finished with him. Rend leaned forward, his ear close to the man’s lips.
“Yes?”
Ghai spoke in a low voice, his smile adding weight to his reply, “…No.”
Thorn smiled, nodding to himself. Ghai was indeed a brave soul, but one now in mortal danger. Rend backed away and spat on the ground, smoke curling up from his nostrils. Wordlessly, Cray stepped forward, the box of tapers held before him like an offering to the gods.
“I’m sorry to do this, Ghai.” Rend grinned. “But you leave me little choice.”
A fresh taper burst into flame and was brought forward, Ghai’s eyes going wide, his heart beating like it would burst. He gritted his teeth and waited.
The force of the explosion threw the thestral and his companion across the forest floor like toys. A deafening boom, billowing smoke, and an intense wave of heat accompanied the blast like the hand of some invisible giant, slapping them effortlessly away from Ghai.
In his shock, he stared about him, his ears whistling from the earth-shaking noise. A large black muzzle suddenly appeared above him, its red eyes burning like the fires that had now sprung up around him. The beast’s teeth drew close; he could smell its breath, see the vivid scar over its eye.
“Do you want to live?”
Ghai nodded.
“Then come with me and do as I say, understand?”
He nodded again. In a trice, the two of them were up and running along the road, deafening shrieks of anger and rage ringing out behind them. Thorn shouted back over his shoulder.
“Get on my back, and hang on, human.”
Ghai didn’t need to be told twice. He leapt onto the creature’s back as its two huge bat-like wings snapped out and, with a lurch, began to lumber them into the air.