//------------------------------// // Chapter Thirty Three - The Weight of Legacy // Story: When The Snow Melts // by Bluespectre //------------------------------// CHAPTER THIRTY THREE THE WEIGHT OF LEGACY Huro sipped his tea thoughtfully, staring into the small fire pit as it crackled and snapped merrily away. The warmth it gave the room soaked into his bones, giving a welcome relief from the aches and pains he’d built up over the years from working the rice paddies. He’d lived a good life—simple, uninteresting, but still… a good life. His wife had died a few years earlier, the summer fever taking her as it had so many others before, and would doubtless continue to do so. Only the gods decided when it was time to take one of them into their care, or send them to one of the hells. It was the natural order of things: uncomplicated, easy to understand, and that was just the way he liked it. This, however, was on an entirely different level. Huro knew more about rice production and dealing with squabbling neighbours over whose dog had pissed on whose house and other such nonsense, not this! Chert sat across from him, the village gang boss looking every bit as flustered as he felt. The governor's men had all been buried and the road reopened, but for how long? The villagers were so scared that they wouldn’t dare venture along the road at all, and simply sat there waiting for trade to come to them. But what if it didn’t? What if the other villages and towns knew of their plight and had decided to wait until the villagers came to them? There were too many factors here that needed consideration. The main one right now, though, was what to do with the princess. If indeed she was what she said she was. The door slid open, and Jinu appeared, her hair hastily rearranged and complexion decidedly pale. By the looks of her, she hadn’t had any luck finding the missing Cray. Chert looked up at her, and she simply shook her head. “Sorry, Boss. We looked everywhere, but he’s not here in the village so far as we can tell. He hasn’t even been to see his family. They hadn’t attended the meeting at the mill and didn’t know he was still alive!” Chert looked at Huro and ran his hand over his face. The elder looked a lot older than he remembered of late. No doubt this situation was starting to get to him as well. For that matter, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a good night's sleep since this whole damned mess began. The boss closed his eyes and took a sip of his tea, feeling the warmth run through him. At least Nasta wasn’t here. A good healer he may be—he’d been trained by Willow, after all—but he was far too highly strung for his own good. Imagine wanting to take your family out of the village at this time of year! He waved his hand at Jinu dismissively. “Don’t worry, Jinu. Bring the boys back in and get them warmed up. Let the lookouts know to keep an eye out for him in case he mysteriously reappears.” “Yes, Boss.” Chert leaned back and stretched his arms. The dark bags under his eyes spoke volumes of his lack of sleep. Gods, he was so tired. Surely they had to have at least some good news sooner or later? Still, what about this ‘white horse’ thing, the ‘princess’? He didn’t believe in all this village mystical drivel, and yet here was something straight out of one of the tales he’d heard them come out with to scare the children. If Huro was right, and she was indeed some sort of hill deity, if they treated her poorly… it didn’t bear thinking about. Huro cleared his throat. “Any thoughts?” “Too many.” Chert shrugged, holding his hands near to the fire to warm up. “You’re not a gambling man, are you, Huro?” The elder shook his head. “You’d know if I was.” The boss laughed. “I would at that!” Chert’s eyes watched the elder carefully. He never gave much away. If the old man had been a gambler, he would have been a difficult man to read, very difficult indeed. “Life is a gamble, Huro. The prosperity of my family has been dependant upon my knowledge of it. One wrong play, one roll of the dice at the wrong moment, and it could all fall down around me like a house of sticks in a gale.” He scratched his leg, sighing. “If there’s one thing I know, Huro, it’s when I’m being played, and right now, someone is trying just that.” The elder raised an eyebrow. “Cray?” Chert shook his head. “Cray’s an idiot. Sneaky, yes, but someone’s pulling his strings. You didn’t see the look on his face when I said we’d take the two of them into custody. It was panic, Huro. He wanted them dead there and then.” “You think this other party used him to arrange the killing of the princess and Rush, rather than do it themselves? They lived in the middle of the forest—why couldn’t they have done the deed? You saw the way they’d cut through the governor's men.” “I know. Gods damn it all, I know!” Chert picked up his pipe and started to push tobacco into its bowl with a lot more force than necessary. “There must have been some reason behind it, but whatever it was, I think it's been foiled, and that’s bad news for us.” “Oh?” Chert grunted. “Because if they’re that determined to rid themselves of our ‘guests’, their next target is likely to be the village.” Huro shook his head. “So, what do you think? Should we let them go? If we do and the Lord Ire’s men arrive, we’ll be the ones whose heads will likely roll. They’ll want blood, Chert, you know that as much as I do.” “Boss?” Stran leaned into the room. “We’ve got company.” The village elder and the boss sat in the visitors’ room at the main house. There’d barely been time for a quick wash and shave before the leading elements of what looked like a small army arrived in the village proper. A loud commotion outside and associated shouting was followed by a flustered Jinu, who only just managed to open the double doors as two burly warriors entered, pushing her roughly out of the way. “Who is in charge here?” one of them demanded, staring at the two men. Huro bowed. “I am village elder, Huro. This is the village boss, Chert. Please be welcome in our home, as humble as it is.” Chert bowed low, grinding his teeth at the sheer rudeness of these men. He peered up at Jinu from under his brow. She was fine, thank goodness. If they’d hurt her… “LORD IRE!” someone announced in a booming voice from the door as a blast of cold air entered the room. Several warriors rushed in, closely followed by a moderately well-dressed young man with a very tired expression on his face. Huro noted the swords he carried. They were worn, well-used, and had a feel of menace emanating from them. Those must have been his father's—truly remarkable heirlooms for the young lord. He could only hope that Ire would live up to his father's noble ideals. One of the warriors spoke quietly to the lord, who nodded to him in reply. Without waiting to be invited, Lord Ire sat himself in front of the two men, handing his swords to one of his attendants. The man’s eyes watched them with cold calculation. Huro smiled to himself. So, the young had some of the spirit of his father in him then, did he? “Elder Huro, Boss Chert.” The two men bowed as Ire bobbed his head to them. “I will dispense with the pleasantries, gentlemen. You both know why I’m here. If there’s one thing I know about village life, it’s that you are usually a lot better informed than most would give you credit for.” Huro bowed. “My lord is too kind.” “And you can stop with that as well,” Ire snapped. “I don’t appreciate grovelling, Elder, but I do expect truth and candidness from you, both of you.” Lord Ire fixed Chert with a stare. “I trust I make myself clear?” “Yes, Lord,” the two men echoed. Ire clapped his hands together. “Good. Now then, let’s discuss what has been happening and what we’re going to do about it. First off, I need the body of the deputy.” Chert groaned inside. This was going to take a while… ******************** If he hadn’t seen it with his own eyes, he would have thought anyone suggesting such a thing existed was either insane or some sort of charlatan. Certainly, these villagers believed in the spirits and gods more vehemently than most, but praying to them and actually standing there looking at one as it looked back at you was a different matter altogether. Lord Ire stood watching the creature as it calmly returned his gaze, the light from the lantern casting a yellow glow on the beast’s white coat. “What is it?” he breathed, more to himself than anyone else. The village elder rubbed his hand over his clean-shaven chin, not used to the feeling these days. “She says she’s a princess, Lord Ire. Her name is Celestia.” “A princess?” Ire shook his head in amazement. “And she can speak?” Huro nodded. “You!” the young lord shouted. “Celestia, can you speak?” The princess watched him impassively. “I can, ‘Lord Ire’, and I would prefer not be shouted at in that tone of voice, thank you very much. There is nothing wrong with my hearing.” Ire gasped, turning to the elder. “I have never seen such a thing!” Celestia shook her head sadly. “I’m not a ‘thing’ either, Lord Ire. Don’t forget that you look strange to me.” With a grunt, the princess rose to her hooves and walked to the door. Ire stepped back hurriedly. “I—!” he stammered, then caught himself, adjusting his clothing and swords. “Princess Celestia, forgive my rudeness. Your appearance startled me. I meant no offence.” Celestia nodded her head. “No offence taken, Lord Ire. I presume you have questions for me?” Ire turned to the elder. “Leave us. I would speak to her alone.” Huro bowed, turning to leave. As he left, he caught sight of Rush watching him silently from his makeshift cell. Nodding to him, the elder grimaced. Something was in the air, a feeling, a tension of some kind. Stepping out into the street, he looked up at the sky. It was clear and blue, not a cloud to be seen. Chert was leaning against the door frame, smoking his pipe. “You can feel it too, can’t you?” Huro closed his eyes for a moment before the two of them headed off together back to the main house. “A storm's coming, Chert. I can feel it in my bones.” The younger man glanced up at the blue sky and sighed. “I hope you’re wrong, old friend, I really do.” Huro walked up the steps into Chert’s home as a small cart rumbled down the road, pulled by a man well-wrapped against the cold. It appeared to contain numerous small barrels and other supplies. He smiled to himself. It seemed like supplies were beginning to come through after all. Everything was going to be well in the village. ******************** Rush pressed his ear to the wall and listened, yet as much as he strained his hearing, he just couldn’t make out the words. The two of them had been talking for what felt like hours, but in here, in the darkness, time meant very little. At least he had food, clean water, a bed of sorts, and was even provided with some basic washing facilities. ‘A regular home from home,' he thought bitterly. The sound of movement caught his attention, and he looked up to see the young lord walking away. He never said a word, nor even cast him a glance, simply walking away as if Rush didn’t even exist. It was probably for the best. Being invisible was something that came with living in the hills. Nothing good ever came of dealing with these people. “Rush?” He pressed himself to the door. “Tia? Are you alright?” A slender white leg appeared which he held gratefully, a flood of warmth running through him with that simple physical contact. “I am,” she said calmly. “The young lord appears to be quite a gentleman at heart. A little headstrong perhaps, but still a good man.” Rush leaned his head back against the wall. “Are they going to release us, do you think?” There was a pause. “I wish I had an answer, Rush, but this is a difficult position for Lord Ire to be in right now. This ‘Lord Saru’ he spoke about does not sound like a man to be trifled with.” “I know of him,” Rush said quietly, “but I don’t see his connection to any of this.” Celestia nodded to herself. “His son was Deputy Nile, Rush. His father wants his remains sent home along with the heads of the ones that killed him.” Rush’s head slumped at the revelation. He knew Nile would be trouble from the start, but he never imagined it to be on this scale. “Ones?” “Lord Saru believes the attacks have been made by bandits. The trouble for Ire is that he’s the one who was tasked with keeping the hills free of them.” “And so it looks like he can’t do his job.” Celestia stretched her hind legs. “Indeed. But now they have a bigger problem.” “No bandits equals no heads to take to Saru, right?” “Sadly, yes.” “So what, we’re to be the sacrificial lambs?” The princess shook her head. “I don’t know, Rush, perhaps. I wish I had an answer.” Rush leaned his head back against the wall. “No doubt we’ll find out soon enough.” He stared down at his hands. Lately, he’d begun to see himself more and more as he had in the nether world, as well as in his dreams, and in some ways, in his heart. His body had started to look increasingly alien to him, his arms too… strangely naked somehow. He had an overwhelming urge to go home, home to Equestria with Tia, to stand with her and the rest of the ponies against the evil of Nightmare Moon. It was where he belonged, not here, not in this alien world… alone. A sound from outside niggled at the edge of his hearing. It was reasonably late and most people would be going to bed around now. It was probably a guard. Boss Chert had stationed them outside to keep the more inquisitive villagers away. Judging by how quiet it was now, most had probably given up and gone home. The sound was nearer now, scratching and scraping at the wall beneath the vent. Curiosity getting the better of him, he stood and walked quietly over to the opening as something appeared, dark against the lighter background. Startled, Rush backed up, staring in surprise as something heavy was pushed through, dropping to the floor with a thump. He looked round. Nobody had heard it by the look of things. Maybe it was from Nasta? Was someone finally going to help them? His heart rate increasing in unbidden excitement, Rush leaned down to examine the item. It was… a length of bamboo. Rush scratched his head, rolling the thing back and forth in his hand. What the hell was this? He brought the lantern nearer, then quickly moved it away again with a gasp. He’d seen similar things in service with the lord’s army all those years ago. Did someone want him to use it to blast his way out? If he used the thing in there, the confined explosion would likely turn him into as many fragments as the wall. But, if it was the only way… He placed the device into his bed pillow, pulling the stuffing down around it. He might need it later. ******************** Ire sat alone in his room at the ‘guest house’. He rolled his eye, taking in the surroundings. It was a bordello turned gambling hall, and the guest house was most likely where many of the various liaisons occurred between the boss’ employees and their clients. He’d already been suspicious of the bedding in the room, but was gratefully relieved to find it all well-laundered and clean. He’d have to have reassess his opinion of the boss after all. He seemed a reasonable sort, considering. One of the girls had lit the lantern, gifting him with a cheeky smile before she left. She was quite a pretty little thing, cute and with a nice, rounded figure; just the sort he went for. Women were meant to have some meat on them, not those stick insect types he’d seen paraded around the castle as ‘potential brides’. He shuddered. One day he’d be ready to marry, and when he did, it would be someone who would be right for him: a friend, a confidant, and a mother to the children his clan were expecting. Maybe that girl… He chuckled to himself, stretching out his legs and watching the lantern flickering away. It was very quiet here tonight, probably an unusual occurrence, and more than likely for his benefit. Still, he didn’t intend to stay here long, just long enough to deal with matters. And that was the problem, wasn’t it? That creature, Celestia, as unbelievable as it was, was a princess from another world. Although she had denied it, she was a goddess in all but name, and how had they treated her? Like a bloody monster! Ire held his head in his hands. What was he going to do about this mess? Getting Nile’s body back to his father wasn’t the problem—the boss’ men had collected them all and buried them outside the village. The issue now was Saru. He wanted someone to pay, and soon. Maybe the reed cutter? That wouldn’t do—he was just a simple village fellow who had helped the princess. Killing him would doubtlessly turn her against him, and besides, Saru wanted heads, as in plural. Damn it all! What was he going to do? A thought struck him. What about this other creature that was out there, the one that had tried to kill her? There were two, weren’t there? If what she said was true, just one of them had annihilated the governor’s entire column. By the gods, Celestia had said she was at war with them in her homeland. Imagine what an army of those things could accomplish! He could retake the lands they’d lost after his father had died, maybe even take control of the whole country! Then that fat slug Saru would be the one bowing and scraping, like a dog begging for scraps. His mind drifted back to his talk with the white alicorn. She was a truly magnificent creature, so alien, and yet so familiar somehow. He’d been surprised just how easy she’d been to speak to and how natural it felt talking to her. Odd… most odd. There was a knock at the door. “Lord Ire? The village elder and the boss are here as you requested.” Ire waved a hand at the servant. “Send them in.” The two men bowed and walked in, seating themselves on the cushions he’d left out for them. The drinks would arrive shortly and— Another knock on the door. “Excuse me…” Ah! Right on cue! “Gentlemen.” Ire nodded to them both. “May I invite you to share a drink with me? Boss Chert, I’m afraid it’s from your own stocks, although I assure you that I always pay my bills.” Chert smiled. “Thank you, my lord.” Huro bowed and raised his cup as they all took a taste of the wine. “Very nice, Chert! My compliments.” Ire smiled, waving the empty cup at him. “Please, gentlemen, don’t stand on ceremony and help yourselves.” Huro laughed. “You remind me so much of your father, my Lord Ire. He was a great man.” Ire raised an eyebrow, giving Huro a thoughtful look before bursting out laughing. “He certainly was a great drinker, Elder! Alas, I cannot match his capacity for alcohol, but I do appreciate its effects nonetheless.” Chert bowed. “I’m pleased you’re enjoy our wine, my lord. It’s made here in the village and makes an excellent export item.” The two men visibly relaxed, putting Ire at ease himself. He hated the stuffiness of court life, much preferring life outdoors, or in the bedroom, if he could escape his retainers long enough. Huro and Chert appeared trustworthy, but he would reserve judgement on them for now. “I’ve spoken to our guest. What’s your take on her, Chert?” The boss bobbed his head. “A remarkable creature. I’m inclined to believe what she says and that she is who she says she is.” “I take it you don’t accept the word around the village that she’s a witch, then?” “No. You know about the prints around the pond and the forest being different to the ones we found up at the shack?” Ire nodded. “Indeed, unless she truly is a shape-shifting creature of course. Huro?” The elder gave a wry grin. “I think you already know my thoughts, Lord Ire.” Ire snorted out a laugh. “I believe I do, Huro.” He poured himself another drink. “The question I really want to ask you both is this: what would you do with her?” Chert looked shocked, turning to Huro with his mouth half-hanging open. The lord was asking him? Huro waved his hand at him to continue. Flustered, Chert turned back to Ire. “I… well, personally, I would be inclined to release her. If she truly is a princess, we could be inviting disaster upon our heads by keeping her locked up here. If her people come looking for her and they’re anything like the creature that killed those warriors on the road…” He didn’t finish. He didn’t have to. Ire nodded to Huro, who took a deep breath before answering. “I think we should use her as bait.” Chert gasped. “What? You mean to bring the other ones here? Good gods, Huro!” Ire held up his hand, stopping Chert in his tracks. “I agree.” The boss looked stricken, but Ire leaned forward to fill his cup and gave him a grin from under his brows. “You’ve heard the expression ‘a bird in the hand?” “Well, yes… but I don’t think that really applies!” Ire laughed. “True, but we have the bird in our hand, gentlemen. What we need is to bring the two from the bush to us, or at least one. Then…” He slammed his hand on the floor dramatically. “We have our head for Saru, all nice and neat.” Huro bowed. “Do you have a plan on how we will do this, my lord?” “No.” The elder looked at Chert, who looked as baffled as he did. Ire laughed. “That’s why I have you two here.” He took a mouthful of the wine. “You know the land, the village, and the people. I have the warriors. Between us, we should be able to bring this all to a conclusion, gentlemen.” He looked at Chert. “You seem a little unsure?” “Sorry, Lord Ire. I saw the carnage on the road, how that ‘thing’ had cut down so many of the governor's men. The brutality, the cunning—this is no mindless creature we’re facing. The thought of having it come into the village is, frankly, terrifying.” Ire nodded. “I understand, Chert, so if you have any other ideas I’d like to hear them.” Chert shook his head. Ire filled their cups again, stretching out his leg and yawning. “The night’s still young, gentlemen, and I’d like to discuss our plans. Firstly, Chert, who is that delightful lady who tidied my room earlier?”