//------------------------------// // Chapter Twenty Four - Four for Dinner // Story: When The Snow Melts // by Bluespectre //------------------------------// CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR   FOUR FOR DINNER     Thorn skimmed over the treetops, keeping as low as he dared. His large leathery wings were ideal for gliding, and the downward angle of the hills helped him increase his speed with minimal effort. If any pursuit was coming, he certainly hadn’t detected it so far. He’d call back to the human to keep watch behind them and search for anyone following, but the odd creature had been so terrified that all it could do was cling to his mane like a limpet. Thorn groaned inwardly. If there was one thing he would take away from all of this, it was that he really did not want anything riding on his back again!   Still, he had to get this human to safety. He did not owe these creatures anything of course, but the bravery he had seen the thing exhibit didn’t deserve what that young warrior had planned for him. If he could get the human back to his own kind, they would take care of him, and then he could focus on dealing with the boy… and the princess.   The sun had quickly cleared the clouds away, but it was still bitterly cold. Up here, at least, he could feel some warmth from the sun. Below in the forest, the snow and ice sucked the heat from you, and the trees blocked its rays. Speaking of the sun, he had an idea. The princess was staying with that human, wasn’t she? He’d stumbled across the creature that night in the forest. The thing had been injured, and Thorn had approached it with the intention of extracting some information, only to have the princess appear of nowhere and charge him with her horn glowing like the sun itself. He’d been in no shape to confront her that night and the look in her eyes was one that he would never forget.   Thestral mares were fiercely protective of their family, and he had seen them fight to the death to protect their foals. Thankfully, these days that didn’t tend to happen very often due to the unspoken agreement between the tribes to preserve the young ones no matter who they belonged to. Celestia had had that very same look; she would have gone down fighting for that human.   Strange indeed.   Carried on the breeze, he caught a faint whiff of wood smoke. Someone had a fire going and that meant heat, something this human sorely needed. Thorn could feel the creature shaking on his back. Stupid things—why didn’t they have any fur to keep them warm? Ridiculous…   Up ahead, he could just make out an irregularity amongst the bamboo, and he angled towards it. There, not too far from him, was a clearing, and within it the structure he remembered all too well from that first day. Well, there was nothing for it now. It would be safer both for him, and his passenger, to land here. So long as he was quick, he could leave the human with his fellows and return to his own camp deeper in the forest before anyone knew he had been here.   It was certainly a lot better than risking landing near the village that was crawling with these things. He swept around in a wide arc, scanning the ground for possible ambushes, but surprisingly there was no sign of any movement at all, only two sets of tracks leading from the house. Thorn looked closer. Pony tracks by looks of them, and a human’s, no doubt Celestia and her human ‘assistant’.   As he descended, the image of the boy appeared in his mind. He’d had a human with him as well. Were they…useful somehow? Thorn shook his head. They weren’t pets, obviously sapient beings. Still, having an ally would certainly be useful, wouldn’t it? One who knew the land, the customs and— He snorted; it was pointless speculating, really. After all, once he had eliminated the young one, he would secure the princess and get out of here. First thing was first—he had to get rid of this ‘cargo’ and be away.   With a muffled thud, the major landed at the approach to the house. It was only a short walk up to the front door, a quick check revealing the windows were shuttered, and there were no visible signs of life within. He sighed with relief. It looked like it was simply a case of dumping the human and disappearing into the forest.   “Human? Wake up.”   Silence.   Thorn gave his back a shake. The thing was still stuck there, its claws grasping his mane firmly in their grip. “I said wake up!”   Still no reply. Thorn began to worry in case the frail thing had died and rigor mortis had affixed the creature’s corpse to his back. Not a pleasant thought; getting it off may prove…messy. A groan from behind him made him turn.   “Wh…What?”   Thorn gave his back a more vigorous shake. “Wake up, soldier! Get off my back and stand on your own two feet!”   Ghai coughed, his head spinning. The world seemed to lurch to one side, and he doubled over, retching. Reflexively, he released his grip on Thorn’s mane, his fingers so stiff and cold that they ached horribly. Lifting one leg up to dismount from the unfamiliar beast, he lost his balance and half-slid, half-fell from the thing’s back into the snow.   The Major looked down at him. “Are you injured, human?”   Ghai just lay there, the events of the last few hours seemingly from a different world to the one he lived in. Did all that really happen? Was the governor really dead, all his men… gone? Good gods, that thing, that horse thing! It was going to… to…   Trying to stand, he looked up into the black-coated creature’s face, right into a pair of burning red eyes. Teeth, like translucent daggers, curved up the side of the beast’s mouth and glinted menacingly in the sunlight. He swallowed. He’d never seen a forest demon before, although he’d heard of them. This one… This one had…   It was all too much. The world spun away from Ghai as his body failed on him, and he pitched head-first into the snow. Thorn rolled his eyes and shrugged, lifting the human in his forehooves and slinging him across his back like a sack of grain.   “Stupid creatures…”   The front door was locked, but a well-aimed buck took care of that in short order. Inside the house was surprising cosy, if a little dark due to the closed shutters. The fire had dwindled but wouldn’t take too long to build again. He’d have to work quickly, though—the human appeared to be going into shock. He’d seen it before, when warriors unused to the exhilaration and terror of battle could, quite literally, find their bodies shutting down.   Thorn reached out a hoof; the human was freezing cold. Checking around the room, he found a couple of blankets which, after pulling the more sodden outer clothing off the ape-like thing, he managed to wrap around it as he began to breathe life back into the fire. With a little coaxing, heat began to fill the room in short order.   Despite its appearances, the house had actually been quite well-built and insulated against the worst of the elements. Perhaps these creatures weren’t so useless after all. Thorn hung up the human’s clothing over the back of a chair to dry while he searched around the house for any food and drink, both for the human and himself. His stomach rumbled at the thought and he sniffed the air, trying to pick up on any tell-tale scents.   Hanging up on the wall near the door was a brace of dried fish, a barrel with some uncooked rice in it, and a selection of winter vegetables. Grabbing a few of these items, he stuffed some in his pannier, left some by the human, and headed for the door. A cough behind him made him pause. The frail thing needed help, didn’t it? He groaned inwardly. If he just left him here alone, there was a possibility he may not survive. Could he really just walk away? But…   “Damn it all!” Thorn spat, trotting over to the fire. Taking up a kettle and placing it on the frame over the flames to heat, he took some of the vegetables, chopping them into pieces to go into the pot. He was no cook, but he knew the benefits of a hot meal, and taste was something that would have to play second fiddle to necessity right now.   “Adding theft to your list of crimes, monster?”   A pure white mare stood in the doorway, blocking his escape, the human beside her crouched in a clearly aggressive stance. Thorn stood still, the pot of vegetables in his hooves. He looked at her quietly for moment before placing it beside him and taking the water off the heat.   “Do you have any stock for the soup? I can’t seem to find any.”   Celestia’s eyes bulged. “HOW DARE YOU!?”   She took a step forward, but the human beside her reached across and said something that made her stop in her tracks. In an instant, her demeanour changed, and the princess visibly lowered her guard. The man walked in and calmly opened a cupboard, producing an earthenware pot.   “Let me. I’ve been here a while in these hills, and if there’s one thing I can make, it’s soup.” The human stared at the other one beside the fire. “Who is he?”   Thorn shrugged. “I don’t know. There was a group of them in the hills on a road leading to the village. My…‘subordinate’ attacked them. He was the only survivor.”   The human looked surprised, then resigned. “You’re the one who found me that night by the ravine, aren’t you?”   “Yes.”   “My name is Rush. What’s yours?”   “Thorn. Storm Major, first thestral assault battalion.” A huff from Celestia made the major look up. She glowered across at him, her eyes never leaving his, not even for a second. He knew that if he made the slightest wrong move, that golden glow from her horn could well be the last thing he ever saw. What this human’s relationship with her was, he could only speculate. Right now, though, he was trapped and furious with himself for the moment of weakness that had placed him here. In his mind, he weighed up his options for escape; it didn’t look good. Still, if he kicked over the water into the fire, the distraction could—   “What are your intentions, Storm Major?”   Thorn stared at the human. Was he speaking for the princess, or for himself? Best to play along then…for now.   “I intend, human, to leave here and complete my mission.”   He watched the man add herbs and a scoop of stock to the pot before placing it on the fire. “You intend to take Celestia back to your world, to Equestria, a prisoner for this… ‘Nightmare Moon’. Am I correct?”   Thorn raised an eyebrow. This human was surprisingly well-informed. The princess must have confided in him.   “You are.”   Rush looked up at Thorn from under his brows as he stirred the soup. “I will stop you, Thorn.”   The major appraised him carefully. The human’s brown eyes had a depth that he hadn’t seen in a long time. It was a depth that spoke volumes of what this ‘man’ had seen, what he had done, and more importantly, what he was capable of. He suspected the long knife that hung at his belt wasn’t just for show.   Thorn tucked in the blanket surrounding the unconscious human. “So, what do you intend to do now then, Rush?”   “Now?” Rush shrugged, placing the lid on the pot. “Now, I intend to make some soup.” He looked up at Thorn. “Won’t you join us?”   ***********************   A cry of animal pain and rage echoed out across the hills, the haunting sound startling the nesting birds to flight and making Cray cower in fear of his master. A blast of flame erupted skyward from the stricken thestral as it pulled at its armour.   “Damn him! Damn that verminous traitor to the pits of hell!” Rend cried out again, the pain coursing through him like red hot fire. He gritted his teeth and pulled the last piece of armour free. Gasping, he turned to his human assistant. “Take hold of that and pull when I say.”   Cray knew better than to argue. Lord Rend was someone, or something, you didn’t discuss or debate with; not if you wanted to live. The ragged length of wood had smashed through his underside and deep into the muscles before his haunches. Rend’s legs were shiny with blood, and he must have been in terrible pain. Cray closed his eyes, praying silently to whichever god would listen in case this went horribly wrong. If Lord Rend lashed out, he would likely be joining his ancestors spirits a lot sooner than he’d planned.   The thestral shook, gritting his teeth and hissing, “NOW!”   With a deafening howl, Cray pulled the huge splinter free. The warrior’s blood rapidly began to pool on the snow while he lay there, panting.   “Quickly!” he gasped, a cough racking his chest. “Wash it out as I said.”   Dutifully, Cray took the cloth from the boiling pot of water and began dampening and wiping the wound and surrounding area. The thestral hissed its anger and rage to the world as the blacksmith worked. The worst, however, was yet to come.   The wound would need cauterising. The blood flow wasn’t stopping, and if he didn’t do something, Lord Rend would likely bleed out. Part of Cray began to wonder silently just what would happen if he simply ran off into the trees now. Rend was too weak to follow, too injured to find him and kill him, but…he was still a warrior of the goddess, the goddess of the moon. If he did not show Lord Rend the proper respect, both he and his family would receive her wrath. Maybe not immediately, but some day, and the vengeance of the gods could be terrible. The thought of that was…unthinkable. No, so long as he followed the goddess’ warrior, all would be well. After all, he had spared Cray’s life over all the others. He was special, a true believer and one who acknowledged the gods and the spirits. As foolish as some believed that to be, the evidence was all too clear.   Rend took a deep breath, sweat breaking out on his face. “Do it…”   Taking the metal spike from the fire, Cray approached the bleeding wound and closed his eyes. By the gods, he’d never done anything like this before. Just the very thought made his stomach churn, but Lord Rend had already instructed him carefully, and he knew what to do. Still…theory was one thing…   “HURRY, DAMN YOU!” Rend yelled, desperate for the ordeal to be over.   Cray nodded and, taking a deep breath, applied the hot glowing metal to the wound.   His ears popped with the sound the thestral made; the snow in the trees shaken loose with its agonised roar, falling to the ground around them. The worst was the smell, the smoke from the burnt flesh catching in his throat and making him gag. Quickly, he dropped the steel spike and opened the packet of powder that Rend had shown him earlier. Carefully, he began to sprinkle it over the wound and then took the rolled up pad and bandage out of their protective tubing. Working silently, Cray pressed the pad in place and wound the long bandage around his lord’s body, keeping firm pressure until he was finally able to tie it into place.   Rend took the water bottle in his hooves and downed a large draught before catching his breath. “Help me up.”   Cray leaned down to be roughly grabbed by the young warrior, who used him to haul himself to his hooves with a grunt. Taking the bottle from around his neck, Rend removed the stopper and inhaled deeply. The effects were immediate: a calming, heady feeling of wellness, of strength and invulnerability surged through him, dulling the pain. Without delay, he collected his armour and passed it to Cray, pointing with his hoof.   “Use that and bring it with us.”   “Yes, Lord Rend.”   Cray bowed then ran off to collect the hand cart that had been upended during the battle. It was just large enough to take the thestral’s heavy armour, and he swiftly began to gather it up and stow it the best he could. Without the carapace of wickedly-spiked metal covering his body, the goddess’ warrior looked almost skeletal, his bones clearly defined. The thestral’s midnight-coloured hide was more like leather than fur, stretched taught over that emaciated-looking frame. Those wings, long and bat-like, rustled as he shook them, preening the snow from between the folds. Cray looked on in awe. Despite its terrifying appearance, the thestral radiated a raw sense of youthful drive and energy, a strength that inspired and tantalised the blacksmith’s imagination. If only he could befriend such a being, what wonders he could see!   ***********************   Rend ran a foreleg over his muzzle, wiping the sweat away. Gritting his teeth, he tried walking a short way. It was painful, but not too bad. The healing powder and infused bandages would accelerate healing, but it would still take a few days before he could move freely again. There was time enough to gather supplies and plan his next move. He hissed, narrowing his eyes. That rat, Thorn, had interfered for the last time. Why had he helped that human? What did a thestral warrior owe these ignorant monkey creatures? It had to have something to do with that witch, Celestia, he knew it! If it wasn’t for her and her vile magic, the major wouldn’t have lost his mind in this world.   Kicking a piece of wood away angrily, Rend stared up at the sky. If Thorn and his witch wanted war, he would bring them war such as they had never seen. In his mind, he could already picture the major lying dead beneath his axe, the witch cowering as he approached. He could be generous, he would show her mercy… the mercy of the moon goddess. With a laugh, Rend walked over to one of the corpses and sniffed it.   “Get a fire going, human,” he rumbled to Cray. “I’m hungry.” Maybe when this was over, if he felt inclined, he might dine on a sweeter meat. Scratching his chin, he wondered about the taste of alicorn and smiled quietly to himself.