//------------------------------// // Dúshlán // Story: Courts of The Magi // by Airstream //------------------------------// The side yard of the Bower rang with the sound of steel on steel, as two ponies danced back and forth, bladebands flashing in a set pattern of thrusts and parries. The combatants, one clad in Kingdom purple, and the other a knight in the blue of Cadance's house, were demonstrating the culmination of a lesson that had just been taught to the assembled ponies, among them soldiers of Lady Serale's personal guard. It was a select few, ten lucky ponies drawn from two divisions, but they watched with razor-edged focus as the last few blows were exchanged. “Now,” the knight said as they disengaged for the final time, “You're not expected to move that quickly. In fact, if you're moving that fast, you're probably not paying attention to form, and what have we been telling you all afternoon?” “Form is fundamental!” the chorus replied. The knight's companion, one of the more experienced sergeants of the Guard by the name of Alloy, nodded approvingly. “Pair up with somepony and try to keep your form correct. The bladebands you've been given are blunted, so you might be tempted to swing harder than you should. Remember, though, that a blunt blade can still break bones, and if I have to escort any one of you lot to the medics, I'll be very displeased.” Vino watched from the parapets overlooking the courtyard as the crowd drifted apart into duos, noting which of the ponies under his command, five all told, were behaving as they ought. Thankfully the members of the Guard were finally starting to settle into their posting here in Dawndale, and though there had been a few incidents involving a member of the Guard making an unknowing faux pas, they had by and large been ignored. Cadance was gracious to her guests, and Captain Fidelis had made sure to keep his ponies away from any situation in which they could cause irreparable harm. “Penny for your thoughts, lad?” Afi asked from his position behind him, eyes also cast out to the courtyard. He took a swig from the wineskin at his side before continuing. “You seem to be a mite lost in your own head, which never bodes well.” “They're finally working well together,” Vino said. “They're acting like soldiers, not just fighters wearing a uniform.” It was true, too. The long trip and close quarters had done wonders for strengthening the bonds between ponies that had met a scant month earlier. Cliques had formed at first, and to a degree there still remained groups of Guards who cared for some of their number more than others, but the fact remained at the end of the day, they were all soldiers in service to the Kingdom, and being surrounded by the foreign environs of Cadance's Court had drawn those bonds closer still. After all, it was better to be a free pony of the Kingdom than a thrall of the Solar Throne. Afi chuckled to himself. “They are, at that,” he agreed. “Nothing like a long campaign to make you either a friend for life, or hate somepony's guts.” He raised an eyebrow at Vino. “How goes your relationship with the 4th?” he asked, more out of idle curiosity than anything. “Can't be easy, trying to keep that lot in line with all the rumors going around about your chewing out by the good Captain.” “They follow orders well enough, I suppose,” Vino said. “But I'm still new at this, and they don't care for me much. I don't have a reputation for good or ill, and I certainly haven't been making many friends in the ranks.” “A few out of the ranks,” Afi said conspiratorially. “Rumors about you and that thief-turned-apprentice are almost as thick as the ones about your standing with Fidelis.” “She's a friend and nothing else,” Vino said firmly. “I like her, but not the way everypony thinks. And she's not exactly my type to begin with.” “Oho!” Afi exclaimed. “So the stick in the mud has a type, eh? Go on then, what's she look like? Me, I prefer pegasi.” Vino shook his head. “That's not what I meant,” he said. “I'm not looking right now, is all. I've barely got this whole 'being a knight' thing down as it is, and I don't need the added complication of a relationship. It's not a good time.” “Lad, I'm not talking about finding yourself a damn wife,” Afi said. “I'm talking about finding a mare to give you a good tumble. We're in the bucking Bower! Cadance's court is legendary for its mares, and from what I hear, they're all about sharing what they have to offer. You're young and good looking enough, I can't see you having much trouble finding a pretty thing to spend a cold winter's night with.” Afi scratched at his beard as he watched one of the Guards fending off the attacks of her blue-suited counterpart. “I'm getting on in years, Vino,” he said, suddenly solemn. “You've got potential, and a long life ahead of you if you use that potential as you should. But by Celestia's perky teats, lad, you need to learn how to have a bit of fun! I don't think I've seen you smile more than a half-dozen times since we left Ponyville, and I've been around you more than I care to be, no offense intended. It wouldn't kill you to let loose.” Vino scraped at the stone of the wall. “Maybe you're right,” he said. “But...” “Break apart!” Sergeant Alloy called. He watched as the ponies did as they were told, recalling the bladebands they wore on their hooves and assembling in front of him. “Most of you have it right!” he said as he walked past the group. “A few missteps, but that's to be expected. Just remember that the point of using a sword is not to look pretty, nor is it to show off. A sword is a tool for killing things. In the press of battle, you will be hacking, slashing, thrusting, and cutting with the goal of coming away alive. It's there that these fundamentals will help you.” The knight in blue stepped forward, fluttering his wings as he did so. “Now,” he said, “Since we moved a bit fast today, does anypony here want to show what they've learned against another student?” “This should be interesting,” Vino remarked to Afi. “Did you notice that they've attracted a few members of the Court?” Afi nodded in agreement. “I'm willing to bet that a few of the ponies down there are squires to knights in the Court, or seconds to duelists. I recognize a few faces from tournaments.” “I'll do it!” a high voice called, and Vino saw a familiar figure in a purple jacket step forward, her own wings catching a bit of the wind as she flapped them nervously. Corporal Fireball wasn't one to back down from a fight, and Vino supposed he should have seen her as one of the most likely to showboat. “Isn't that one of yours?” Afi asked. “The one you busted, right?” Vino nodded. “Corporal Fireball. I've considered reinstating her rank, but she hasn't seemed ready to take it back yet. Nopony else in my squad have really tried for the spot either, so I'm going to give it to her eventually.” Fireball took her spot on one side of the group, now arranged in a rough circle, as another pony, a unicorn wearing livery Vino couldn't identify, stepped into the ring with her. He seemed rather young until Vino reminded himself that Equestria still placed greater value on melee combat than the Kingdom did. Likely this teenager had been practicing for the past few years at least. Vino felt a twinge of worry at the realization that Fireball was probably outmatched. The apprentice certainly looked sure of himself, calling the blade forth with a sweeping, expansive gesture. Gradually, it took the form of a long saber, suited for quick slashes and easy parries. Fireball followed suit, a bit more hesitantly as she assessed her opponent's skill. Her band flowed outward, hanging in front of her. This took the form of a long-bladed arming sword, complete with traditional crossguard. She settled into her stance, her body taught and ready, and waited on the signal. “On my mark,” Sergeant Alloy said, “You two will fight to the first touch, and only the first touch. Upon making the touch, a point will be awarded. First to three wins. Are you ready?” He looked to one pony, then the other. “Begin!” he said, stepping back into the circle. The crowd erupted in cheers as the young duelist stepped forward confidently, the tip of his saber flicking towards Fireball's face, seeking to elicit a reaction. Fireball's face remained stony, as she merely circled towards his left flank, not taking the bait. The duelist, setting the pace, swung at her with his saber, first a high cut, then a low one as she raised her sword to block it. Fireball caught the low blow on her crossguard, and attempted to bind his sword with her own, but the unicorn was too quick. Fireball tried to knock him back with a wide swing, but the unicorn simply stepped back and lunged forward, the tip hitting her squarely in the chest, causing her to lose her breath. The squires cheered and the soldiers groaned as Fireball raised her sword in defeat, and both went back to their starting positions. Vino looked closer at the two contestants. Strangely enough, the corporal seemed unfazed by the loss, and even a bit emboldened. As he watched, she hopped back and forth, flexed her wings a few times, and rolled her neck. She flicked the tip of her blade back and forth a few times, testing the heft, and Vino saw her make an adjustment to the length of her blade, a technique that certainly had not been covered in the class. The signal was given again, and the pegasus stepped forward into the ring just as the unicorn attempted to knock her blade aside with his own. But the arming sword was heavier by far than the saber, and Fireball merely allowed it to slide off of her blade, instead making a neat cut towards the apprentice's own head. This was caught, but it seemed that it had only been a diversion, as Fireball's blade curved inside the hasty guard the unicorn had erected, instead striking him solidly on the shoulder. This time, it was the soldiers that cheered, and the unicorn's turn to look shaken, which he did. Vino watched with renewed interest, noting that even Afi had fallen silent, as Fireball's opponent seemed to reconsider her with much-improved caution. Vino leaned in, speaking quietly to Afi. “Do you think she's toying with him?” Afi shrugged in mild bewilderment. “It's plain to see this isn't the first time she's held a sword. But then, the lad down there's had a good seven or eight years of training on his own. She might be out of her league yet. It's certainly gotten more interesting, that's for sure.” The two combatants approached each other once more, blades at the ready. This time, the unicorn approached with caution, testing her defenses with proper strikes, instead of showboating as he had earlier. Fireball warded away the worst of these, though it cost her ground to do so, but remained unbowed. She swung her sword with a grunt that was audible even from Vino's position, and the unicorn stumbled back before returning the attack with interest. Fireball took the blow on her shoulder, though it came dangerously close to her neck. “I'm fine!” she shouted as she stumbled back. “I'm fine. You alright, son?” The unicorn nodded, chastened. It was to be a friendly match, after all. If he'd met his target, he might have seriously hurt or even killed her. “Do you want to continue, corporal?” the knight in blue asked. Fireball grinned. “Are you kidding?” she asked. “Things are just getting good.” The knight studied her for a moment, before inclining his head in respect. “Very well,” he said, stepping back into the ranks. “Begin!” This time the swords met in an awkward jumble, and a few blows, almost too fast and sloppy to be visible, were traded before the apprentice stumbled back, horn alight. “Point!” he called in a reedy voice. “She scored the point!” The soldiers cheered again as Fireball nodded to the young pony, taking up her position once more. The tension in the courtyard was palpable. A breath of chill wind stirred the air, and when it settled, without prompting, both contestants threw themselves at each other, swords flicking back and forth, seeking an opening. Thrust to parry to riposte and back again, the two swords wove a dance of steel that, while not masterful, was still a display of exceptional skill. Oddly, Fireball and her opponent were smiling at one another, enjoying the moment just as much as they wanted to win. The unicorn struck out with a quick slash, which Fireball caught on her sword, shoving it back towards the unicorn, and moving light on her hooves, she danced away, the clash of steel broken for a breathless second. The unicorn set his hooves, and with a short cry, attempted a lunge, but he overextended, and Fireball capitalized on the error. Her wings flapped twice, lifting her into the air and over his head, and her sword-tip extended downwards, touching him gently on the horn. She landed a bit awkwardly, but that went unnoticed as she was tackled by her comrades in arms, who whooped and hollered their good cheer as Fireball was declared the winner. Laughing, Fireball managed to extricate herself from the pile of ponies, and sought out the young unicorn, shaking his hoof when she reached him. It seemed that there were legitimately no hard feelings between the two, and Vino saw a few compliments and tips pass between them. The crowd dispersed as the instructors called out the starting times for tomorrow, and Vino sighed with relief. Rivalries could form easily, especially between groups of soldiers from the Kingdom and Equestria, and Vino didn't relish the thought of breaking up a fight between the two sides. His relief was, perhaps, misplaced. One of the watching knights detached himself from the corner of the courtyard he had been standing in, watching in silence, and made his way towards the corporal as she began to remove her bladeband. “Pardon me, corporal!” he called, his voice an airy drawl that dripped with false courtesy and rang easily throughout the courtyard. “Might I have a word?” Corporal Fireball straightened up, and upon realizing that she was speaking to a knight of the Dawn Court, snapped a hasty salute. “Sir!” she replied. “No need,” the tall unicorn said. He towered over the corporal, all lean whipcorded muscle and charm. He raised a hoof to the doublet he wore, polishing it on the embroidered heart that marked him as a member of Cadance's personal guard. “I just wanted to ask you a few questions about your training, if you would be so kind?” The idle chatter of the students and soldiers stopped as they noticed the pony in their midst, captain's badge gleaming on his breast. Corporal Fireball, though nervous, appeared amicable enough. “Of course, sir,” she said respectfully. “What would you like to know?” “Well,” the captain said thoughtfully, “You see, that was my apprentice. I've been teaching him these past six years, and though he's nowhere near my level of expertise, I'd thought him adequately trained enough that I could leave him on his own for a while.” He glanced at the young unicorn, whose eyes were averted. “Perhaps I was wrong. But tell me, where did you learn how to handle a sword?” “My father, sir,” Fireball said, eyes staring straight ahead. “He helped to run a duelist’s school in Trottingham. He taught me a bit, and I studied under him for a few years after I'd finished school, that being before I joined the guard.” The unicorn nodded, as if he'd heard the story before. “And, pray tell,” he said in a patronizing tone, “Have you ever been certified as any kind of duelist? Joined any lodges or the like?” Fireball shook her head stiffly. “No, sir,” she replied. “I didn't think myself good enough.” “But you thought yourself good enough to take on my apprentice,” the captain finished. “And if your father was any good with a sword at all, he'd have told you about the rules when it comes to challenging an apprentice. You do know those, at least?” Fireball swallowed. “A challenge to the apprentice is a challenge to his master,” she said, as if by rote. “Sir, I'd no idea he was anypony's apprentice. It was a friendly match.” “So now you regret winning?” the captain asked. “Now that you found out the colt you beat was apprenticed to a knight, you want to take it back?” Nopony in the yard made a move to help Fireball as she shook her head again. “No, sir. I meant only that I intended no disrespect.” “And yet you offered me an insult by raising a hoof against the pupil of a knight, when you yourself are hardly more than a common pony who happened to learn a few tricks with a sword,” the unicorn countered easily, the green of his eyes gleaming unpleasantly. He raised his hoof to his chin as if struck by an idea. “Perhaps there is a way, however, to redress the error you've made. Maybe you've been taught a few things by your father that I've never seem before, hmm? If I'd not taught my pupil properly and he was taken by surprise by something unfamiliar to me, the fault is obviously mine.” Vino rose from the steps. “He's toying with her,” he snarled, before a hoof from Afi pulled him back down. The Ranger shook his head softly, the braids in his reddish beard swinging gently as he did so. “No, lad,” he said. “Not here, not now. He won't hurt her any, just make a show. The corporal will just have to swallow her pride, and we can talk to Captain Fidelis about it later.” “He's no knight,” Vino said. “A knight protects the weak and holds himself up as an example to others. This one's just a bully and a braggart.” “A dangerous braggart, to have gotten the job as Cadance's captain of the Guard,” Afi said. “Stay down, lad.” “Come now!” the captain exclaimed with a smile. “Just a friendly exhibition match. You can't be too tired, the way you danced around my apprentice like that! What do you say?” Fireball, her face pale, said nothing, only nodded once in agreement. “Wonderful,” the captain said with a smile as he stepped back. “Do you understand, everypony? Nothing here but a simple demonstration with blunted blades. No need to be alarmed.” He gestured back to the corporal, as if inviting her to dance. “After you, corporal.” Fireball called forth her arming sword once more, watching as the captain summoned forth almost its twin from his own bladeband, instead of drawing the rapier at his hip. She eyed him uneasily, raising her sword in a guarding position, and began to circle, looking for her opening. Vino felt sick as he watched the captain turn a bit too slowly, exposing his flank for a strike. Fireball, unable to recognize the subtle feint for what it was, attempted to strike a blow, but found her sword parried with contemptuous ease. The captain's return blow landed with a thud on the side of her head, so quick that Vino almost didn't see it land, before Fireball collapsed in a heap. “Oh, dear,” the captain said. “I'm terribly sorry, I thought you were surely going to catch that. I'll move a bit more slowly next time.” He placed special emphasis on the last two words, a threat unspoken. Fireball staggered to her hooves, weaving as if drunk, before shaking her head and adopting a more solid stance. Her eyes flashed dangerously, and Vino realized that she had just lost her temper. Sure enough, she lunged forward, her sword a whirlwind of blows that would have bowled over any novice and a good number of experienced swordsponies, as she focused on hammering away at the captain's defenses, who was slowly giving ground. Her posture became more confident as she began to believe victory was within reach, but Vino could see that the captain was merely biding his time, playing with her as a cat does its catch. The end, when it came, was at both quick and decisive. The captain flicked his swordpoint up lazily, catching Fireball's swing in a practiced motion, and slid his blade down her own, twisting the hilt lazily to one side, and catching her directly in the neck, mere inches from her throat. Fireball collapsed, clutching at the spot where the tip had landed, and her sword, bereft of her will, simply returned to the band from whence it came. “Such a pity,” the captain drawled, looking down at her. The courtyard was still, though a few soldiers of the Guard had taken steps forward when Fireball was struck. “I'd almost thought you were worth my time. Let that be a lesson to you, girl. Common fillies like yourself don't belong in the ring with swordmasters.” He turned to leave, but stopped suddenly. His eyes narrowed, and Vino saw at the same time as he that a small pendant had come loose from the confines of her jacket's high collar, emblem lying out on the cold stone for all to see. It was a simple shape, cast not of any precious metal, only pewter, but as soon as Vino saw it, his blood ran cold. Attached to a plain linked chain was the emblem of a six-pointed star, painted in red. He recognized it immediately. “What is this?” the captain hissed, for the first time serious. “You dare to wear that in this Court? After what that pretender did to my liege?” Fireball took a breath, coughed, and looked up at him, eyes blazing with hot defiance. “My Lady has every right to divinity as yours. I'm not abandoning my faith to preserve your Princess's feelings.” The captain's handsome face twisted with rage as he drew his rapier. “By the gods, I won't skewer you, but I'll whip you to within an inch of your life!” he cried. Vino vaulted from the parapet, leaving Afi behind, and landed heavily in the midst of the crowd, the impact rattling his teeth. He brought forth his bladeband, a saber gleaming in bloody red and oiled gray, and pointed it at the captain. “Touch one hair on her head, and you will answer to me, sir!” he challenged, the surety of his voice surprising even himself. The captain regarded him calmly, perhaps even curiously, as Vino stepped forward. He continued to speak, voice level and sword tip unwavering, as he advanced towards his fallen soldier and the one who had humiliated her. “You are no true knight,” Vino growled. “A knight is humble, and kind, and is sworn to protect the weak, not berate them or humiliate them. A knight swears oaths of honor, and honesty, and loyalty. A knight is gracious in defeat, and even more gracious in victory. You are no knight. You are a braggart, a loudmouth, a disgrace to the sword you wear and the title you claim. If you dare to strike her once more, sir, you and I will cross more than words.” His last remark echoed through the courtyard, and for a moment, it looked as if the captain would step down. But at last, a smile cracked his face, and he sheathed his sword. “Very well,” he said magnanimously, “I accept your challenge. Sir, I look forward to crossing blades with you, and it shall grieve me to drive this sword through your heart. You have a month to put your affairs in order.” Without another word, he turned and left the courtyard, the younger unicorn in tow. Vino watched him go, his face a mask of anger, and only when he had rounded the corner and was gone did he return his bladeband to its place around his foreleg, and helped Fireball back up. “We're getting you to the medic,” he said quietly. “You took a nasty blow to the head, and that's dangerous. Put the damn pendant away.” He addressed one of the Guards standing by. “Private Moon, Private Opal, take her to the medic as quickly as you can without rushing her. The rest of you need to return to the barracks.” “Sir,” Sergeant Alloy asked, “Do you know who you just challenged?” “A pompous ass,” Vino replied. “Who he is isn't important right now. I need to get to Captain Fidelis and inform him of what happened.” “Actually, sir,” the knight in blue, who had been instructing, replied, “I think it very much does matter. You just challenged Captain Brightsteel to a duel.” “Yes I did,” Vino said. “What does that matter?” “Lad,” Afi said, jogging up from behind him, “Even I know who that was. Captain Brightsteel is one of the best duelists in Equestria. He's fought dozens, hundreds of them. Before he became a member of the Court, he made a living challenging ponies to duels on the behalf of others. He's lost perhaps two or three times, and those were long ago.” “So he's good,” Vino replied, watching corporal Fireball limp away with the other two supporting her. “What of it?” “Captain Brightsteel doesn't just duel ponies,” the knight replied. “When he duels an opponent, he makes sure they don't walk away. He's killed every pony who has ever challenged him.”