Captain Roughshod was a well-respected member of the Guard, and was something of a legend in military circles. Though some would say that his glory years were behind him, it was never said to his face, and even behind a desk, he still cut a dashing and dangerous figure, clad in royal purple and his one green eye sparkling mischievously behind the sweep of the wide-brimmed black hat which covered his short, blonde mane. He had a propensity for making friends, and some would argue paramours, which had allowed him to climb the political ladder with greater alacrity than his few rivals might have hoped, though he seemed genuinely content with his position as Captain of the Guard.
It was in this capacity that he had been summoned to the private offices of Lady Everstar, though he had occasionally been invited there as a fourth in bridge or to meet with some of the more senior generals to discuss matters of military policy. Boots shined, mane groomed, and jacket crisp, he had good-naturedly answered the summons on his day off to come into the deserted Court, also on hiatus, to discuss some pressing matter with the Lady. Greeting the staff with a smile, and some by name, he ascended the great staircase that led into the hall containing the Lady’s offices, seemingly unbothered by the cold wind which had finally brought with it a clear sky, moving the oppressive layer of cloud that had sealed the city in like a sheet of lead.
Nearly a foot of snow had fallen in the past day, and Roughshod was careful to watch his step as he ascended the stairs. The servants had swept the snow and thrown down salt, but it wouldn’t do for him to take a tumble down the steps on his way to meet the Lady. It therefore took him a moment longer than usual, perhaps, to meet the door, held open for him by an obliging groundskeeper, which earned the young Pegasus a nod of thanks before the Captain stepped inside, shaking the cold from him as he removed his hat.
He knew the route from years of habit, taking the shorter path down a side corridor, using the curling staircase that was tucked away behind a statue depicting a young mage with curling ringlets, holding an important-seeming book. Upon his arrival at the third floor, he took the second door on his left, the third hallway on his right, and passed the two guards standing outside the humble double doors, each of whom snapped a sharp salute. Knocking thrice, he waited on the door to open, and after a moment, open it did.
Captain Roughshod poked his head through the door. “You wished to see me, Milady?” he asked, as if he didn’t already know.
Lady Everstar, clad in a simple white shirt and warm leggings, beamed at him from behind her desk. “Ah, Captain!” she exclaimed, setting a hefty ledger down on her desk, “You’re just in time! Please, come in, you’re letting out all the warm air.”
Captain Roughshod stepped into the room, dutifully shutting the door. It was a good deal warmer in this room, he noticed, though there was no fire in the fireplace, and one entire side of the study was a window. He took his customary seat at the long table which dominated the room, usually clear save for a few maps on his visits, but for the moment, choked with books.
“Excuse the mess,” Lady Everstar said airily, waving one hoof, “I’ve been looking a few things up. I’m glad you’re here, Captain.”
“How can I be of service?” Captain Roughshod asked. “As always, I live to serve.”
The Lady smiled, gesturing to a thick leather binder near his chair. “That binder,” she said, “Contains the expense report for the entire army during the first years of the Kingdom. Open it up; look at how much was spent to provision it. I’ve included notation on inflation rates, it should prove illuminating.”
Roughshod flipped the binder open, flicking through its pages and adding up rows of numbers in his head. His brow furrowed. “The entire army was only twenty thousand strong?” he asked. “But the battle of the Regia involved nearly a hundred thousand combatants on our side alone, the Equestrians bringing twice that.”
“Gryphons, Changelings, and levied troops,” Lady Everstar said. “The numbers on our end were vastly inflated. It’s a damn good thing we’d begun to produce flash powder weapons and the Equestrians had just come through the Everfree, because we were hopelessly outmatched otherwise. Keep reading.”
The Captain did as he was bidden, examining the numbers again. “Even adjusted for inflation,” he said, “We spent half as much on twenty thousand soldiers back then as we do now. And last I checked, the Army alone counted nearly seventy thousand. Then you add in the Navy, the Guard, the Rangers, the Mage Corps…”
“All told, we field a hundred and fifty thousand ponies at any given time, with another fifty thousand in reserves and with the ability to conscript perhaps half that amount again,” Lady Everstar said. “We need to be able to move supplies, materiel, and bodies quickly and effectively to wherever they are needed, and that takes a lot of organization and more than a little miracle working to do right.”
“Which is why we spend a small fortune on a logistics department yearly,” Captain Roughshod observed. “I’ve met them myself. Why are you telling me this?”
Lady Everstar sighed. “I suppose by now,” she said, “You’ve heard the rumors that the Equestrians are beginning to move troops around, and not just for exercises.”
“I’d assumed it was barracks scuttlebutt, nothing to worry about,” Captain Roughshod said with a frown. “I’d kept my ponies on their hooves just in case, but I didn’t put any credence to the talk.”
Lady Everstar turned to face him. She produced a snifter of brandy from behind a pile of notebooks, sliding it over to him. “I suggest you have a drink,” she said, “Because the movement is real. The Changelings reported eight regiments of mixed light and heavy infantry moving south from Fillydelphia and fourteen moving west from forts north of Manehatten. The Imperial Legion is still stationed in Canterlot, but the Home Fleet has begun maneuvers as well.”
Captain Roughshod said nothing, perhaps turning a shade paler than his white coat normally was, before seizing the snifter of brandy and draining it in a gulp. He closed his eye, let out a deep breath through his nose, and opened it once again, the picture of composure. “Alright,” he said, “How would you like me to prepare, Milady?”
“This comes at an inopportune time,” Lady Everstar said. “For multiple reasons. The first is that the last generals who had actual experience in a large-scale conflict retired decades ago. The second is that our military, while considerably more advanced than the one the Equestrians can field, is in the middle of being updated to accommodate new doctrine. You’ve seen the letters.”
Captain Roughshod certainly had. With the advent of new industrialization techniques, the Kingdom’s military was changing faster than he’d ever believed possible. New rifles were being made, those that could fire multiple shots without needing to reload. Mechanized rotary guns fired rounds faster than an entire group of infantry could, and he had personally attended an exhibition of a new artillery piece that could fling explosives nearly a mile away with near-perfect accuracy. The speed and rapidity of the Kingdom’s advances bordered on the unbelievable.
“I could see how that might be the case, Milady. Most of the Guard is still getting used to the new equipment, let alone the regular Army. If an attack comes at the wrong time, we could lose more ponies than we’d need to.”
“Which cannot be allowed, when fighting against the Equestrians and their unquestionable numerical advantage,” Lady Everstar asserted. “Not to mention nearly half our food comes from Equestrian fields. We have supplies, but we can’t get bogged down in a long war with them, because in a protracted conflict, they’ll come out ahead. So I’ve begun a reorganization of our command structure.”
“Am I out of a job?” Captain Roughshod asked with a smile. “I can’t imagine that will make you very many friends.”
Lady Everstar shrugged. “I’m not in the business of ruling a country to make friends,” she said. “But you’re right in that it’ll step on more than a few hooves. Especially since I’m folding existing organizations like the Rangers into the Army and unifying the airborne and seafaring Navies to cut down on the logistical strain of things.”
“I feel it is my duty to recommend against such a course of action,” Roughshod said carefully. “If conflict breaks out, we’ll be using an untested command structure against a well-organized military juggernaut. Hay, if you make too many changes, you’re liable to have a mutiny on your hooves at the exact wrong time.”
“Which is where you come in,” Lady Everstar said. “In the coming months, you’re going to be my attaché while I make the cuts. You’ll be shaking hooves, following up on orders, all of it. It’s a big job, but I feel you can undertake such a task.”
Captain Roughshod was glad he had finished his brandy, because if he had been drinking, he likely would have choked. “Me?” he asked in a panicked tone, rising from his chair before composing himself and sitting back down. “I’m honored, Milady, but there are half a dozen ponies better suited than I to handle this. If you command it, I will of course obey, but…”
“I understand your concerns, they will be addressed, and I do, in fact, command it,” Lady Everstar said cheerfully, levitating stacks of books into the air as she began to return them to their respective shelves. “You’re well liked, Captain. You have a good head for politics, a good head for combat, and frankly, I can’t think of another pony that embodies the ideals of the Kingdom’s military better than you. You might not be the best organizer or the best general, but you’re exactly what I need to assist in this transitory period.”
“Oh, don’t look so grim!” Lady Everstar said, looking at Captain Roughshod’s drawn features. “It’s not like you’re going to be running errands all day and every day. You’ll be needed perhaps once a week, if that.”
“If that is what you require, Milady, then I am happy to obey your commands,” Roughshod replied. “May I ask what my first task will be?”
“Compile a list for me,” Lady Everstar said. “Any redundant departments or unnecessary expenditures in the Guard. Also, I would appreciate a brief summary of the careers of the officers in the Guard. Senior ones only, I won’t make you account for every lieutenant in the Guard by yourself. I’d like it by the end of the month, if possible.”
“Of course,” Captain Roughshod said, rising from his chair once again. “That gives me three weeks, plenty of time for an organization as small as the Guard.”
“I’ll let you get to it, Captain,” Lady Everstar said. “And do cheer up. It’s nowhere near as bad as you think.”
Captain Roughshod bowed low before hurrying from the room, considerably less cheerful than when he had entered it. Lady Everstar watched him go with a look approaching fondness on her face until the door closed behind him, at which point the cheerful façade was dropped immediately.
“Turquoise?” she called. “You can come out now.”
There was a rush of green fire, and Turquoise appeared seemingly from thin air, sitting in the chair furthest from Captain Roughshod’s own. The snow-white Pegasus fluttered her wings demurely and waited for her mistress’s next command.
“Well?” Lady Everstar inquired. “What did you get from him?”
Turquoise seemed to wilt a bit. “How did you know I was sitting there?” she asked.
“The cushion on the chair was depressed,” Lady Everstar said. “You can cloak yourself from sight and sound, but gravity still affects you. Now, what did you sense from him?”
“He’s definitely hiding something,” Turquoise said. “What that is, I couldn’t say specifically. He seemed a lot angrier than I thought he would be, even given the circumstances. And of course, there’s the ever-present infatuation over you.”
Lady Everstar rolled her eyes. “If I had a bit for every member of my staff who was head over hooves for me,” she said, “We wouldn’t have to hold those damn budgetary meetings to fund the Army in the first place.”
“This runs a bit deeper, I think,” Turquoise asserted. “It’s strange. It goes almost beyond love. Which I suppose is good in a member of your Guard, but it could be dangerous. All the more reason to keep him close, where you can observe him.”
“And you’re sure of his involvement in a…oh, what do they call them now?”
Turquoise nodded. “Captain Roughshod is a senior member in the Starlit Path. The term you’re looking for is ‘temple’, Milady.”
Lady Everstar snorted. “They don’t even have a ‘temple’. I’ve ordered every one of those things closed as soon as they pop up.”
“I don’t see any particular harm in allowing small groups to worship you, Milady. Weren’t you given power comparable to the Princesses to restore balance to Equestria?”
“You’ve been keeping up on your history,” Lady Everstar said approvingly. “That’s good. And yes, that’s how it went. But for some reason, some ponies have the idea that I’m something other than a very old mare that got her hooves on more power than she really knew what to do with.”
“Regardless,” she continued, “The last thing I need to worry about is Captain Roughshod’s very flattering but entirely unwanted and unneeded feelings towards me. In your opinion, can he be trusted?”
Turquoise blew air through her mouth, an act she did not strictly need to undertake, seeing as breathing was not something she strictly needed to do. “Milady,” she said, reticent, “I cannot be assured of Captain Roughshod’s intentions. He is…different. Like with yourself, it is difficult for me to get an accurate picture of his emotional state. He must have nearly supernatural emotional discipline.”
The Lady was silent, merely electing to pour herself a generous helping of brandy, as well as one for Turquoise. She slid it across the table before taking a seat. “Are you telling me,” she said, her voice dangerously quiet, “That the pony I personally selected to lead the Guard, cream of the crop soldiers whose sole job is to protect the citizens of Starfall and myself, a pony with an outstanding military record and decades of unswerving loyalty and outstanding service, is a possible threat to me?”
The Pegasus sat very still, hoof frozen on the glass of brandy. “Yes, Milady,” she said, nodding her head jerkily. “As I cannot be assured of his intentions, I must reluctantly inform you that Captain Roughshod represents a threat to your security at this time.”
Turquoise flinched, worried that she had given offense, and prepared for the scorn or anger that Lady Everstar would surely hurl at the temerity of her accusation. She had, after all, been Lady Everstar’s personal agent for perhaps two years, whereas Captain Roughshod was a decorated soldier. What she did not expect, however, was for Lady Everstar to sit back in her chair with a self-satisfied smile, and take a sip of brandy.
“Perfect,” she said. “Please, Turquoise, take a drink.”
Turquoise did as she was asked. “Are you not displeased, Milady?” she inquired, eyes wide. “You react so mildly for having received such news as I have given.”
“Tell me,” Lady Everstar said, “Do your kind still observe the adage ‘keep your friends close, and your enemies closer’?”
“I…have heard the phrase used, Milady, and I understand its meaning, but I fail to see why you apply it in such an important capacity.”
“Captain Roughshod arrived in Starfall requesting service in the Army nearly thirty years ago, seemingly from nowhere, and has been a rising star ever since. He’s an almost-perfect soldier and an excellent pony, which makes him very popular and easy to get along with. I admit to even being a little charmed by him when I met him for the first time. He reminded me very much of my long-dead brother. Frankly, Turquoise, he’s too good to be true. Four hundred years I’ve been alive, and I’ve never met a pony possessing his drive, upright nature, skill, and intelligence,” Lady Everstar said. “What worried me, though, is the fact that once upon a time, I knew somepony very similar to him.”
“That is a very cynical view of things, Milady,” Turquoise said. “May I ask whom?”
Lady Everstar took a sip of her brandy. “An old mistake that very nearly cost me dearly. A pony with a mane of red I still see in my dreams, eyes that danced with green laughter and a coat the white of cream. And Turquoise?”
“Yes, Milady?”
“Had you reneged on your claim that the Captain was a threat, I would now be sending my condolences to Queen Feldspar and requesting a new agent. In the future, I expect such forthrightness from you as a matter of course. Is that understood?”
Turquoise took another mouthful of brandy, her throat uncharacteristically dry. “Yes, Milady.”
Lady Everstar smiled, and her eyes gleamed with the steel hidden behind their beautiful purple. “Good,” she said. “Now, let me have the list of the other traitors we’ve uncovered in the ranks. I need to know which heads I will need to make preparations for mounting on the Regia’s walls.”
“We could all lose our heads for this!” the corpulent pony in the corner exclaimed, eyes streaming red from the smoke that had accumulated over the last few hours in the cellar. “Protestation and demonstration is one thing, Creed, but what you’ve suggested is an act of outright rebellion!”
“Hear, hear!” another protested, waving a glass of wine about haphazardly. “The Collectivist Union has been by your side for years, Creed, but this is taking it much too far!”
Creed remained calm, slicking back the greasy locks of his mane as he listened patiently to the ponies around him pontificate on why, exactly, it was a bad idea to finally accomplish something for once. “Brothers and sisters in arms, believe me when I say I understand your concerns,” he said smoothly. “But don’t you see that this is the exact right time to act?”
“Act?” the first pony, a career teamster by the name of Arduous, exclaimed. “Act! What do you think we’ve bloody been doing these long years? We’ve protested and pleaded for social reform, more power to the ponies, we’ve even asked for Lady Everstar to delegate more to the nobles, for pity’s sake! It’s gotten us nowhere! But an armed insurrection? That’s not acting, that’s suicidal!”
There was a growl of agreement from most of the ponies present. Only Creed’s own ponies kept their silence. Creed had been spending several weeks consolidating his position in the League, and the last thing he needed was the few remaining malcontents undermining him in public. Even though they were hosting this meeting, however, they were still outnumbered eight to one by the other unions, leagues, and associations which made up the bulk of what some ponies would call “extremist groups”.
A mustachioed pony piped up next. “We of the Independent Mages would take on any magical threat which threatened the existence of this great organization, but every mage in the Kingdom wouldn’t stand a chance against the Guard!”
“And even if we did,” another teamster cried, “Even if we somehow made it past them, we’d still have to contend with the Lady herself! You might as well point a pistol at the moon as Lady Everstar! Hay, even if the Guard was for some reason on our side, we’d still be right back where we started!”
“Which is why I’ve begun talking with a sponsor,” Creed replied, sounding insulted that they hadn’t considered that he had thought this through already. “One of the nobles of the Court sympathizes with our cause and has begun to provide us with funding, which eliminates the old problem of not being able to secure materiel, aside from what the teamsters bravely 'liberated' from ammunition depots.”
Arduous’s bulging cheeks reddened. “We put our lives in danger to get those explosives!” he asserted.
“Peace, brother,” Creed said, holding up a hoof to forestall the impending tirade. “I meant no disrespect. They were bravely taken and we are all grateful for what you could get us. I merely meant to say that we no longer need to risk our lives to procure weapons. My patron has already begun to funnel the League new weapons and ammunition, including repeating rifles. They are, of course, at your disposal.”
“But that doesn’t change the fact that even if we do fight our way through the Guards without taking catastrophic losses, we’re still facing the pony that would bring it all to an end,” the leader of the teamsters shot back. “Lady Everstar will never abdicate her throne, and she has refused time and again to listen to any of our requests!”
“Which is why I’ve also sought out help in that regard,” Creed offered. “No disrespect to our brethren Mages, but we need to hit her very hard if we want to make a difference.”
The Archmage slammed his mug of ale down on his table. “I’ve heard of your dalliance with these so-called ‘Crows’,” he said disdainfully, “And I can say with all honesty that any practitioner who meddles with demons and the dead means no good to anypony, and we’d be a fool to accept a two-bit shoeshine from one of their ilk. Besides, Crows won’t be enough either. Lady Everstar has taken on whole covens of sorcerers and necromancers before and come out virtually unscathed.”
“And I bet they come through the same noble that put you in their pocket,” Arduous sneered. “How many favors would you owe for them, eh? Kick out one despot and turn the whole Kingdom over to corpse-eaters.”
Creed grinned. It was not a pleasant grin. “You’re right, of course,” he said, taking a sip of his own drink as he rose from his seat. “The Crows wouldn’t be enough, and they do come with a cost. But we’ve recently been approached by a third party.”
The door in the back, supposedly shut tight and well-hidden, opened with a boom that echoed much longer than it should have in the tiny room. Ponies blinked and stared in the sudden influx of evening light at the figure which stood silhouetted in the door before it stepped through, closing it behind it once more.
Though it was difficult to distinguish specifics in the hazy confines of the bar’s back room, everypony present could discern at least a few qualities, though some things seemed to catch the attention of onlookers more than others, and not all the conspirators would later agree on the most prominent aspect of their visitor.
His suit, pinstriped and gray, was rumpled, though it was clear that it was of a very fine cut, and his mane, black shot through with streaks of white, was tousled as if he had just arisen from a deep sleep. Irises the same shade of crimson as his tie gleamed in eyes of gleaming yellow, and a single snaggletoothed fang curled from below his lip, stretched in an expression caught between smirk, sneer, and smile. He reached the front of the room much sooner than he should have, turned to the would-be rebels, and spoke with a voice that cut with dangerous amusement.
“Well,” he said, shattering the tense silence that had lain over the room like a shroud, “Well, well, well. What have we here? Rebels? Thieves? Charlatans? Soldiers?” His grin twisted into something a bit more predatory. “My kind of ponies. Creed, my lad, you didn’t tell me you associated with such colorful characters. I daresay I could find some use for them yet.”
“And who, might I ask, are you?” the Archmage inquired disdainfully. “This is a society for private discourse and allows an exclusive clientele.”
The suited stallion met his gaze like an avalanche meets a tree. “You,” he said, “Ask all the wrong sorts of questions. I think you always have, haven’t you Blackstone? The wrong questions, the wrong ponies, the wrong times. Else you wouldn’t be selling second-rate potions on street corners.”
He fished in his pocket and pulled out a silver coin, which he tossed to the Archmage, who caught it out of reflex. “Ponder that,” the stallions said, his eyes shining at a private joke. “It’s from ancient Roam. More blood has been spilled over that coin than you’d think. I imagine you’ll find it quite…illuminating.”
“I’m sure…” the Archmage muttered, examining the etchings on the coin, his earlier fiery focus having apparently gone out. His compatriots looked at him worriedly as the suited stallion stepped forward into the crowd.
“I’ve had so many names,” the stallion said, looking at them each in turn. “But the one I go by nowadays is Dis. And I did approach Creed, strictly to offer my services as a consultant.”
“Dis believes in our cause,” Creed said. “Power vested in the ponies, and a nation run by the ponies.”
Dis nodded earnestly. “All that power resting in the hooves of the many, instead of caught up in one place?” he asked. “It’s an inspiring vision, really it is. This is why I’ve agreed to provide some information to you all.”
“And where did you get this information?” Arduous asked. “Books?”
“Among other places,” Dis said. “You could say I’m something of a collector of oddities, or I was until recently. Either way, it’s fascinating what you’ll find when you dig deeply enough. I believe I can help you, gentlecolts.”
He paused, waiting on a question that wouldn’t come. His grin grew wider. “Unlike the other Princesses,” he said conspiratorially, “Our dear Lady Everstar is still technically mortal. There’s something holding her here, something that gives her her immense power.”
“My dear comrades,” Dis said with a smile, “Lady Everstar can be killed. She has a weakness. It lies in the gem on her chest.”