21) Harvest Festival: Day 4, The Entertainment
After a good night's sleep, Max felt a little better. Piste’s words still hurt, but what had he expected? He’d known that not everyone would have been happy with his decisions on where to invest his limited funds, he just hadn’t expected the reaction to be so strong.
Still, most of the province seemed to have accepted it. Iron Trotsky had, of course, seemed overjoyed by the idea and the stallion had done much of the preparatory work into getting a rail line for Sharpside. The discount he’d arranged from Iron Horse would make it far cheaper to build there, and of course he was right about the coal and iron that Sharpside, and the surrounding area, would be exporting. It would provide a larger income than just food from Sadlzburg, which was needed to feed the province anyway, particularly given the way it seemed to be growing. He just wished Piste could see it that way. The competition between Sharpside and Saldzberg didn’t help. It was just another sign of how divided his lands were, each town only looking to its own problems. He hated feeling so helpless, if only there was something he could do to get them all working together, to see the province how he saw it.
Max’s ears flattened as he emerged from his tent. Seemingly overnight the nearby fields had been converted to host the various sports events due to take place today. Normally he’d be looking forward to them, but today they just seemed to be another sign of the rivalry between the different settlements. Although the competitions weren’t overtly between different towns, each event was technically between individuals. However it was common for ponies to follow athletes from their own homes and the rivalry could be quite intense. Sadlzburg had had more winners than any other town for the last few years, but Sharpside was normally only been a few points behind, and other settlements like Herdstone and Pinegraves didn’t do badly either.
Max sighed, feeling some of his earlier good cheer starting to melt away. It only made things worse that he was awarding the prizes this year. Would the other settlements assume he was a supporter of Sadlzburg because he used to run the town? Or would he be considered unaligned? If so, he’d have to be careful not to favour any settlement over another. Being a Baron was hard.
Thinking to himself, Max didn’t notice Sealbhach until the younger goat was almost alongside him. “Morning Max,” he called.
“Oh, hi Sealbhach, how are you?” he asked.
“Fine, Max. Can I talk to you about something?” he asked, looking a little nervous.
“Of course.” Max felt a little worried. The goat normally just breezed through life, it was odd to see him even slightly upset. “What about?”
“You know you were talking yesterday about sending out tax collectors and teachers and guards and stuff to travel the province? The Maxies?”
“I don’t think we’re really going to end up calling them that,” said Max blushing a little at the thought. Maybe Spark’s crush was getting a bit out of hoof.
“I don’t know, I quite like the name. Anyway, can I, you know, sign up?”
“You want to be a Maxie? I mean a tax collector?” asked Max in surprise. Sealbhach had gotten through a fair number of jobs over the years: bartender, lumberjack, builder, farmer. He normally just filled in where he was needed, never settling down long, but tax collector didn’t seem like the sort of thing he’d be interested in.
“Yeah, I think I’d like to get out and about for a bit, away from Sadlzburg, try something new.”
Max frowned. “You havn’t got some nanny in trouble have you?” he said only half joking. Sealbhach was famous for being a lothario.
“No! Nothing like that, well maybe there are a few billys and stallions who might not want me around their girls.” He flashed a mischievous grin. ”But nothing more than that. It’s just...”Sealbhach let out a long breath. “Well, what with Brian getting married and having a foal, and Conn getting made whatever he is now, and mum away with you in Canterlot all the time... Well I’m not really a thinker, that always been Conn’s thing, but... well... maybe I should, you know, actually do something with my life. I think I’d like to travel, get to see the province and this Maxie thing sounds like it’ll do that.”
Max looked at Sealbhach for a moment. The billy wasn’t untalented, he’d always been quick to pick up anything he tried, but he was so changeable that he rarely put much effort into anything. still, he probably deserved a try, Max had never heard him speak of anything this passionately before. “I think you’ll be good at it, Sealbhach. I’ll add you to the list, training should start in a few weeks and you should be out and about by the spring. I just need to ask that you stick to it once you start.”
“Yeah, sure Max, I’ll try... I mean I’ll do it,” he said, straightening up.
“Good!” said Max with a smile. “Welcome aboard.” He held out a hoof which, after a moment's hesitation, Sealbhach took and shook enthusiastically.
“Thanks!” he said. “You won’t regret this!”
Soon after his impromptu meeting with Sealbhach, Max made his way to the sports fields which were scenes of mostly organised chaos. Welcoming and a number of other volunteers, were trying to arrange the various events which were scheduled to begin shortly. Pitches and tracks had been marked out and crowds of ponies and other species were starting to gather around them.
Max offered to lend a hoof where he could, and although Welcoming wasn’t happy about it, preferring the baron to take on a more ceremonial role, he managed to get her to agree to let him help set up some of the events. He was glad for the chance because it made him feel a little less useless.
There wasn’t any sign of Piste, Max guessed he was off at the skiing events outside town. he hoped his friend did well, and was glad that he actually had a chance to compete; previously as mayor Max hadn’t had a chance as he had to present the prizes, at least Max’s presence saved Piste from that. There were a few other events taking place in the surrounding area, some of the longer races, for example. The pegasus flying competitions were of course taking place in the skies above.
Once things were ready to start Welcoming made certain that Max didn’t help any more and he was firmly told that his role was to simply pass out trophies to the winners. Much of the rest of the morning and early afternoon was thus rather boring for him. Under most circumstances he’d be quite excited and be cheering his team on, but now that he wasn’t really allowed to support any one side, he couldn’t play favourites.
Still, thought Max, it was nice to see his people having a good time, and the ups and downs match was particularly thrilling, even if he never could remember exactly what all the rules were. Unfortunately, there were a few nasty moments as well. a very close one hundred lengths gallop where the judge's decision came close to starting a riot when it was announced that the Sadlzburg champion had just come in ahead of last year’s winner from Sharpside. The officials themselves were booed and there was loud heckling between the supporters of the two teams.
With a sigh Max turned his attention to the next event, the pony pull, a popular local test of strength. About two dozen sledges were being set up and loaded up with layers of bricks. Each competitor would be strapped to one of the sleds and would have to pull it and its contents fifty lengths. Anypony who didn’t manage it, or the slowest half of the field, would be out and the race repeated with more and more weight added until only one competitor remained.
The various entrants were starting to line up and prepare for the race by stretching and warming up. Almost all of them were earth ponies, their innate strength usually giving them an advantage over the other tribes at the event. Most were large and heavily muscled, used to long days pulling plows, working heavy machinery, or transporting rocks. Max recognised some of them: a pair of brothers, Tank and Traktor, white stallions from Sharpside, they had taken turns winning the competition for the last four years. A short distance away stood a stocky lime green mare with a flaming red mane, Artemis, Sadlzburg’s best hope of winning this year, she’d come a narrow second last year. Next to her was a taller and younger pegasus stallion, Rumpus, also a local, and competing for the first time but hoping to place well. Off to one side a grey coated stallion, Boulder, from Midnight’s folly, was doing a number of rapid one hoofed pushups much to the enjoyment of a small group of mostly female spectators who seemed to be getting a bit overheated at his exertions. Some of the other entrants Max didn’t recognise, presumably they were from the smaller settlements. Max hoped they had a good time and that the competition wasn’t too intense this time.
After a few minutes the crowd started to settle down and the competitors got into position, waiting patiently to be strapped to the sleds. To Max’s dismay, the crowd quickly seemed to split upon town lines, with each settlement’s natives cheering on their own team and scorning the others.
Max ran his eyes down the line of competitors trying to get a feel on who would win this year. Tank was probably the favourite, but he was starting to get on a bit, maybe a new blood would do better? Max’s eyes stopped as he reached the end of the line and he frowned. There stood a lanky unicorn stallion with a thick pair of glasses, had he wandered into the wrong event? Max thought he recognised the stallion, didn’t he work for the community bank in Pinegraves? Some sort of scribe? Quill he thought he was called. The stallion didn’t look very sure of himself, he almost seemed to be shaking as one of the volunteers running the event started to tighten the straps around him. He kept glancing into the crowd.
Max shrugged, maybe he was doing it for a dare or something. The event was open to anyone after all. His appearance was drawing some amusement from the crowds and other competitors, but Quill seemed to be doing his best to ignore it as he lowered his head and took up the strain as the organisers moved away.
Everything checked, Welcoming Hearth stepped forwards, a white handkerchief held in her aura. Around her the crowd momentarily quietened in anticipation. After a moment's pause Hearth released the material and let it float to the ground. Instantly the competitors pushed forwards. Rumpus was the first off the line, his wings extending with the effort as he heaved the heavy load of bricks after him. However, his lead was fleeting and Tank, followed by Boulder, glided past, moving like their burdens didn’t weigh anything and accelerating as they went. A cry went up from the Sharpside and Folly parts of the crowd, while those from Sadlzburg yelled at their competitors to move faster. Although slow off the mark, Artemis surged onwards, passing Traktor who seemed to be having difficulty keeping his load moving in a straight line, and then her own teammate. Up at the front Tank and Boulder were still neck and neck almost halfway to the finish line already.
Tearing his eyes from the drama Max glanced back at the start line. There stood Quill straining against his load, sweat streaming from his flanks and his teeth clenched in effort. He took a step forwards, then another, then a third before coming to a halt. After panting for a moment he put his back into it again and started to struggle forwards. Shaking his head, Max looked back towards the finish. To his surprise, Boulder had pulled almost half a length ahead of his opponent, although both Traktor and Artemis were now only a length of two behind both of them. The followers of all four of them were screaming and hollering their support
With a mighty surge, his muscles rippling in a way that certainly seemed to excite many of his fans, Tank raced forwards almost shaking his load of bricks free from the sled, but he couldn’t quite close the gap with Boulder before the latter passed the finish line. A few second later Traktor and Artemis joined them, shortly followed by Rumpus and the rest of the pack.
Volunteers moved onto the pitch and began turning the winners around and stacking on more bricks for the next lap. Those who hadn’t made the cut waited patiently to be unstrapped. A general buzz ran through the crowd as they waited less patiently. Looking back at Quill, Max saw that the frail pony had made his way about a third of the way down the track before slumping to the ground. A helper approached to help him unstrap but, to Max’s surprise, Quill waved him away and got tiredly back to his hooves, taking the strain again as he painfully took a further step.
A murmur went through the crowd as they noticed what was happening. there were a few outbreaks of laughter, but most seemed shocked by Quill’s actions. Then there was cry from the opposite side of the field. “You can do it Quill!” A rather homely young mare with a sky blue coat and a frizzy pink mane was pushing to the front of the crowd. “Quill! Quill!” she chanted. The tired stallion stopped for a moment turning towards the cheering mare. a smile spreading across his muzzle, as well as a blush across his cheeks, he started to push forwards again step after step.
A second pony joined in the chant, then another, then another. Quickly it spread across the entire crowd irrespective of their home town and Max found himself caught up in the excitement as well. neutrality be damned, he wanted to see this brave, or stubborn, stallion make it. “You can do it! Not much further!” he roared, starting several of the ponies around him.
Down on the track, several of the competitors had unhitched themselves and had trotted back to see Quill’s performance. Traktor moved to help shove the load along but he was stopped by his brother, who shook his head before standing alongside the struggling stallion and planting his feet firmly on the ground before slowly stepping forwards, demonstrating the best way to pull the sled. Quill quickly picked up the lesson and started to make progress, passing the halfway mark, then the three quarters. But now the entire crowd was screaming his name absorbed by the spectacle before them, and the determination of the thin pony.
Quill was less than a dozen steps from the finishing line when disaster struck. One of his hind legs slipped in the mud and shot out from under him, unbalancing him and slamming his head into the ground. There was a gasp from the crowd and then a momentary silence. Max felt himself tense ready to run forwards to help even though there wasn’t much he could do.
Then Quill’s head lifted and looked around dazedly for a moment before dropping back to the ground. Boulder leaned in low to the floored pony and the two shared a few words before the larger stallion stood back. “Quill!” he cried, stomping his plate sized hooves on the ground, “Quill! Quill!” the other competitors huddled around him took up the chant, followed by the crowd.
Slowly, the small stallion put one hoof, then another, then another, then another under himself and lifted himself off the ground. Taking a deep breath, he braced against the slay and heeved. For a long moment it refused to move, then slowly, inch by inch, it crept forwards. His every muscle standing out, Quill drove forwards step by step. As he approached the finish line the crowd seemed to hold their breath as one, silently willing the stallion on. Finally, with a snort of effort Quill dragged his load across the line.
Instantly the entire crowd exploded into cheers and cries, all united regardless of their species, tribe or home. The green mare who had started the cheering sprang onto the track and practically tackled the exhausted stallion, knocking him to the ground and covering him in kisses. After a few moments, both Quill and the mare were lifted onto the backs of Tank and Traktor, and to the joy of the crowd the two of them were paraded around the track.
Eventually the pony pull continued, with Traktor eventually winning although the actual outcome didn’t seem that important any more. It might have been Max’s imagination, but from then on it seemed like the competition between the crowds was more friendly; they still cheered their own sides, but they also recognised the efforts of their rivals as well. Quill’s display seemed to have united the province in a way that Max’s words alone hadn’t managed.
It was late afternoon before the events came to an end and Max was starting to feel his good cheer return again. He had spent some time shuttling back and forth between the manor and his tent packing things away for his journey tomorrow. He’d have to leave fairly early to make it to Praris in time to catch his train. If things went fully to plan he’d be back in Canterlot within a week, a few days before court was due to restart.
He’d had a chance to chat with several of the local mayors and leaders in passing. They had rather mixed feelings about his plans. Silver Fir seemed proud of his daughter's new position although her joy seemed a bit muted, Lucky Dip of the Folly and Barrell of Neighgra seemed less pleased, they both felt they and their towns had been ignored and Max had had to explain again that he didn’t have the resources to help everypony, they would just have to be patient. He didn’t bump into Iron but he guessed the mayor would be overjoyed to have the chance to put his town on the map. Maybe it was lucky that he didn’t see Piste again, he didn’t want to be yelled at by his friend again.
Still, wherever he went he heard Quill’s name mentioned. The stallion seemed to have caught the provinces imagination. He was a real local hero. Hopefully he and others like him would allow the people to see themselves as part of something greater rather than just the inhabitants of various remote settlements.
There was one more event that he had to attend tonight, the dance competition between Sadlzburg and Sharpside. Maybe he should have put a bit more thought into it when he’d challenged Iron’s people. At the time, he’d felt he had to defend his town’s reputation; but now, given the rivalry between the two towns, it was likely to break up all the goodwill that Quill’s actions earlier today had created.
Maybe he was making a mountain out of a molehill, thought Max as he made his way to the library to pick up Conn and Noble. It would probably look best if the three of them turned up as a group. That would show that his government was united and that he supported them, that would be important while he was away in Canterlot.
It was Noble who opened the door. she had apparently dressed up for the event, wearing the dress she had worn when he’d had dinner with her parents. only this time she looked much more comfortable, her mane had a circlet of purple flowers platted into it. The flowers suprised Max a bit, he hadn’t known she was dating anypony. “Come in Max,” she said stepping aside to let him in. “Conn should be ready in a minute.”
True to her word, within moments of Max stepping into the library Conn appeared from one of the side rooms. Goats generally didn’t wear clothes, but the billy had clearly put some effort into cleaning and grooming himself. Like Noble, he too had a line of asters circling his horns. Max frowned and looked between the two of them for a moment before the bit dropped. Maybe his government was going to be a bit more united that he’d planned. Conn coughed quietly and Max realised he’d been staring.
“Oh, um, sorry, I didn’t realise the two of you were, well,” he stuttered.
“It was a bit of a surprise to me as well,” said the goat, looking over towards Noble.
“Stallions! I mean billies,” said Noble rolling her eyes with a smile. “It was very generous of Conn to give me a place to stay, and then we got talking that first night and I realised how smart and gentle he was and how much I liked being with him.”
“I, well I felt the same, but I didn’t think she did,” said Conn, stepping over towards Noble.
“Attacking a lumberjack to protect my honour was a bit of a clue as to how you felt,” she said nuzzling against him. “After that we, well, we talked things out. Neither of our parents are all that happy about it, but really I don’t care, I want to give it a try, see where things go.” She turned to him.
“So do I,” said Conn, although he looked a little less certain about her declaration. He leant forwards and their lips meet first for a light peck, then for something more passionate.
Max found his attention drawn to an interesting spot of dust in the corner. His eyes darting back to see the couple still attached to each other, he coughed to try and attract their attention. It took a further two increasingly loud coughs before they finally separated.
“Oh, so we should be off to the dance then?” said Conn straightening the flowers on his head.
“Yes,” agreed Max, Trying to think about the implications of his deputies’ relationship. Goat / pony couples weren't a common situation even in Nulpar, not exactly taboo, but not common. Some people might disapprove, but given how happy the two of them seemed together he could hardly complain. There was also a bit of an age difference between then, Conn was almost a decade older than his paramour. Still, given the difference between him and Fragrant was almost the same, he could hardly argue about that. Since both Conn and Noble had equal positions in his government, there shouldn't be many complaints about their relationship. There could be some problems if they broke up, but he could deal with that if it ever came up. He shrugged. “Let’s go!”
The three of them left the library and headed towards the town square where the dance was due to take place. Max led the way while the new couple followed behind, leaning into each other and making Max feel just a little lonely.
As Sadlzburg lacked an internal venue anywhere near big enough to host the attendants, the dance was being held outdoors in the town square. The visiting weather team had made certain that no rain cloud would come anywhere near, and that the sky was clear enough that the moon and stars generated more than enough light to see by. With nothing to keep the heat in the night was getting on a bit chilly, but that was countered by the press of ponies and other species in the area and the athletic activities taking place.
Long trestle tables had been set up around the square, covered in supplies of food and drink to fuel the night's activities. A slightly rickety looking stage had been set up in front of the town hall and a local a band was playing a few jaunty tunes. The sun had only just set but some ponies were already gathered in pairs or larger groups on the floor. Around them the majority of the guests were standing around and chatting to each other. To Max’s dismay, most of the groups seemed to be divided by settlement, with very limited intermingling between ponies from different towns.
“You two better go off and enjoy yourself,” said Max, gesturing to Conn and Noble, “I’m sure I can find somepony to talk to.”
“Are you sure?” asked Conn, looking around.
“This is your first date, you don’t want a third wheel. Don’t worry, I’ll be fine.”
“Try not to do anything too scandalous baron,” said Noble gently pulling Conn away towards a large punch bowl.
Now, with his associates busy, Max let his eyes flow across the square. to his surprise, he saw Barrel deep in conversation with Southern Breeze, and neither looked ready to kill the other. That was certainly a turnaround from earlier. Intrigued, Max trotted over to see what they were discussing.
“Hi Max,” cried Southern as he got close, “Good to see you!”
“Southern, Barrel,” said Max with a nod.
“Baron,” said Barrel, “We were just talking about trade between our towns. You were right about us having things that the other needs,” his tone darkened a little, “and judging from your plans we’re not going to get much support from you soon.”
“I didn’t say that, but there are other places I have to invest in,” said Max quickly.
“We understand Max,” said Southern, “We should have gotten ourselves more organised before Nulpar was formed, but this bigot here,” she said mildly.
“And this thief,” retorted Barrel, “put our personal feelings before the good of our people. Once she apologized, and proved to be hopeless at playing horseshoes.”
“Hey, I won once!”
“Out of sixteen games,” said Barrel with a grin.
“Well it’s not like a griffin has much use for a horse shoe,” mumbled Barrel. “Anyway, we got talking and his wife agreed that Gentle and Gusty were adorable,” she nodded towards the mare who was playing with the chicks under the watchful eye of their father, “Things just sort of grew from there.”
“We’ve agreed to sort out free trade in fish from the lake to the Eyrie and in return they’re going to see what they can do to improve our hotel.”
“We’re even going to try and work together to build a road between our towns.”
Max smiled wide. “That’s just the sort of thing I’ve been hoping to hear,” he enthused, “I know that if we all work together we can really make Nulpar something.”
“Let’s not fly before we can walk, but we’ll do what we can Baron,” said Barrel.
“That’s all I can ask,” said Max, “I’ll leave you two to it then, try not to work all night.”
“No chance of that,” said Southern, looking back at her husband, “Gunter definitely owes me a dance or two later. It’s been far too long since we got to let our feathers down.”
Max was about to say something when he caught a glance of a brown stallion wearing a blue sparkly suit, making his way through the crowds towards him. Piste! Max turned to try and get away before another argument broke out, in public this time, but it was too late. “Max!” cried the mayor.
“Oh, hi Piste,” said Max, “How are you feeling?” he asked nervously, a false smile covering his face.
“Max,” the other stallion looked down, “I’ve... I’ve come to apologize.” Max blinked in surprise for a moment. “I shouldn't have said those things to you.”
“No... no, you were right, I did lie to Sadlzburg, I didn’t mean to but...”
“It’s not easy being a mayor, and probably much harder to be a baron. I get that now. I was stressed and just sort of thought you’d fix everything for me. When you said you had to help Sharpside instead, well, I won’t lie, it hurt, and bringing it out like that in front of the other leaders, it felt personal.”
“I didn’t mean for that to happen. I really wanted to tell you first but you were just too busy.”
“It took Zephyr to set me straight,” Piste sighed, “she’s so much better at this being in charge thing than me, she can put her personal feelings aside when she needs to for the good of the town.”
Max winced a little, that wasn’t what he’d found when she’d broken up with him. either she’d changed or his friend was wrong about her. In any case, now probably wasn’t the time to talk about it. “You’re a good mayor, Piste. You care for the town.”
Piste looked up at his friend. “I try Max, but I can’t handle the stress, that’s why I won’t be standing for reelection next year.”
“What!” cried Max, surprising a few other guests around him. “But Piste...” he started.
“No,” said Piste holding up a hoof, “I really don’t like the job, I’m a better deputy, I need somepony to tell me what to do, to make the hard decisions.”
“But who would take over? Honeybun?” Max could see that as a nightmare scenario, he couldn’t see anything getting done if he was always butting heads with the mayor of the largest town in his province.
“It’ll be up to the townsfolk, but Zephyr wants to stand, she already does most of the organising since you left, so I think she’ll be a good candidate.”
Max opened his mouth to object, then closed it again, she did seem to have stepped up and organised things, she probably was the best choice available. “Yeah, I can see that.”
“And I’ll go back to being the deputy,” said Piste cheerfully. “I think it’s probably for the best.”
Max looked at his friend. “Well, if you really think that then it’s probably the right thing to do, but I don’t think you’ve done that badly. you’ve organised this whole festival and nothing's gone wrong.”
“Zephyr did most of that.”
“But you were in charge. don’t be so hard on yourself, learning to delegate is an important skill, something I’m not all that good at. Still, it’s your choice to make, not mine.”
“I’ll think it over some more, but I think Zephyr’s a better choice. She’s always been good at organising things, the school, the dance club, she put together all this.” He gestured around the area.
“It’s looking good, I just wish I hadn’t set up this stupid contest between us and Sharpside, I’m trying to get Nulpar working together not creating more rivalries.”
“Well, you might be surprised about that,” said Piste with a wink.
“What do you...” said Max.
“Just wait,” said Piste as the band finished their current piece and Zephyr swooped down onto the stage. like Piste, she was dressed in a costume made from a blue sparkly material. She waited a moment for Iron Trotsky to stand beside her.
“Can I have everybody’s attention please!” she cried. after a moment the sound from the rest of the party died down. “Now I’m sure most of you have heard that there is a dance contest due tonight between teams from Sadlzburg and Sharpside.” There was an excited muttering from the crowd.
“The Baron got embarrassed when he found we had a new dance hall in Sharpside,” cried Iron with a laugh, Max flushed as he felt a number of gazes fall upon him, “And challenged us to come and crush your team.” Zephyr raised an eyebrow. “What? Is true!”
“Anyway,” said Zephyr, “Although I’m sure our team is just as good at the one from Sharpside we decided to change things a bit. In the spirit of cooperation between the different settlements, like the baron was talking about yesterday, we decided to instead combine the teams and put on a single show!”
Another wave of muttering rushed through the crowd and some affirmative cries went up. A smile started to spread across Max’s face, why couldn’t he have thought of something like this? It really did seem like Zephyr might make the perfect mayoress for Sadlzburg, regardless of his previous misgivings.
“Also, in addition to our normal band, anyone who wants to come up here to play or sing tonight can book some time, regardless of where you’re from and how good you are!” There was some laughter in the crowd.
“We are all Nulparians here!” cried Iron, “Even though I think that is a word the baron made up. That or some disease.”
Zephyr made some choked sounds like she was trying not to laugh. “So,” she said when she could talk again, “Without further ado, I give you the combined Sadlzburg / Sharpside dance teams!” spreading her wings she dived into the area in front of the stage which cleared out as the rest of the Sadlzburg team appeared from the crowd, all dressed in blue.
“Sorry Max, this is my cue,” said Piste as he also joined the rest of the team. The Sadlzburg dancers all huddled to the left of the dance floor while the Sharpside team approached from the right, dressed in red. Lively music started from the band on the stage now reinforced by musicians from their rival town.
The performance started with the folksy music prefered in Sadlzburg, the dance troop in blue moved through their paces sweeping from left to right while the red clad dancers of Sharpside froze in place. Then the music suddenly shifted to the more martial style of Sharpside, although the first tune still continued in the background. The blue dancers became statues while the red troup started to march from one side of the dancefloor to the centre before reversing and returning to their original positions. Once again the balance of the music shifted and the Sharpsiders stopped allowing the Sadlzburg team to restart their routine. Once again the music shifted and the positions were reversed.
This time the two tunes remained intertwined and both groups moved at once still remaining on their own sides of the dancefloor. Until suddenly Zephyr span out of her own side and into Sharpside territory, a lone speck of blue among the red. At the same time, one of the red dancers, Max thought it might be Iron’s daughter, marched into blue territory. Each orphan dancer took on the movements of the area they were in, Zephyr taking up the more martial movements while Paste Pot began to be swung around by a partner in blue.
Slowly the force apparently keeping the two teams apart broke down as pony after pony moved from their own side to the other creating an ever changing glittering mix of red and blue. Some took on the dance of the other team while others continued their own moves on the opposite side. The music likewise was now a mix of the two tunes so well intertwined that it wasn’t possible to tell that they had ever been separate.
Suddenly the music stopped and all the dancers froze in place around the floor. The crowd erupted into stomps of appreciation and cheers. While showing his own appreciation Max noticed a few pegasus hovering above the floor pointing down at the dancers, their faces glowing with awe. Intrigued, Max reared up to try and get a better look, it look him a few moments to figure out that the line of blue clad dancers was forming an outline of a mountain peak, the flag of Nulpar! His own cutie mark!
Finally the dancers broke apart. Zephyr, now panting, took her place back on the stage alongside Iron. “Thank you!” she cried as the cheers started to die down around her. “Like the baron said yesterday, it’s amazing what we can all achieve when we work together! But we’ve hogged the dance floor to long now, so I’ll leave you in the capable hooves of the band. Remember, if you’d like to play your own music, talk to Welcoming Hearth over there.” She pointed over towards the unicorn who returned a wave before Zephyr hopped back off the stage into the crowd.
Max pushed his way through the audience and caught up with Zephyr and Piste by the drinks stall. both were gulping down mouthfuls of water, froth visible on their flanks. “That was incredible!” infused Max, “You put all that together in one day since I gave my speech to the leaders?!”
“Well,” painted Zephyr, “It turns out the Sharpside colts and fillies aren't all that bad at this.”
“And our lot are amazing, but still we spent most of the day practising it,” said Piste, “And Needle had to sew us into these costumes rather than fit them. Which might be an issue given how much we’re drinking.” Zephyr glared at her coltfriend.
“You didn’t get a chance to enter the skiing competition?” asked Max.
“I can do it next year,” said Piste with a shrug.
“We all thought it was worth it as a show of unity,” said Zephyr.
“It was, it really was,” said Max. overcome for a moment, he reached forwards and hugged both of the ponies in front of him, barely stopping himself from kissing them. he’d been lovers with both of them at different times, but Fragrant might have something to say to him if he started with them again now, particularly both at once. He pulled back. “Thank you, I really needed a symbol to show that the whole of the province can work together and I think that was it.” He looked back and saw that the grouping of the crowd had started to break down, with ponies and other species from different settlements starting to talk and dance together.
“You only needed to ask Max,” said Zephyr, “You don’t need to organise everything yourself, you can delegate. Why do all our mayors need to learn that?” She nuzzled against Piste.
“I’m trying to, really,” said Max, “I’ve got the whole council thing set up, and Conn and Noble running things here.”
“Yes, but you can never have too much help. you have any issues just tell us, even if you don’t think we want to hear it.”
Max nodded, “I’ll try.”
“Good,” said Piste, taking Max by the leg, “Now let’s see if we can find you a dance partner or two!”
The rest of the night was probably one of the best parties that Max had ever gone to. The food and drink was plentiful, although he had to hold himself back from drinking too much of Honeybun’s brew because he had a long journey ahead of himself tomorrow. As promised, time was given to anyone who wanted to sing or play on the stage with the results varying from the terrible to the amazing, one filly even got her cutie mark on stage after her performance, much to the joy of the crowd and her family.
Max got to learn quite a bit about the other settlements as well. A band from the Aeyrie put on a demonstration of their music, and Max watched open mouthed as bands of griffin and pegasus from that town, including Southern and Gunter, shot through the sky weaving in and out of each other in what was something between a dance and a battle.
The weather team, although technically not Nulparian’s, also joined in, giving a demonstration of Cloudsdale opera sung in the original Pegalopalisian.
Even the Tor staying in town put on a show. Their music had a lot of call and response in it, which the crowd quickly picked up even though they didn’t have a clue what they were saying. Mrs G and Jurgaghan showed off a surprisingly physical performance of goat dancing, Brian, Caoimhe, Conn and Noble all joined in as well, although the latter was apparently born with four left hooves.
Near the end of the night, as the music slowed, Max noticed his mother and Doctor Housemartin slowly moving in each other's arms. He looked away from the sight to see Piste and Zephyr dancing nearby and smiled. They did look good together, and it took him a few moments to notice that he didn’t feel the least bit jealous any more.
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I grew up in a really small town. I'd be willing to bet there's hanky panky in the Pony Pull. To minimize this, I'd recommend.
DON'T let ponies know whose cart they are loading. There is a temptation to under load your team or overload a rival. Assign sleds at random & shift teams every time the weight is increased. Also might want to weigh the sleds each round.
Well done, Quill!
Dang, now that ship set sail faster than I was quite expecting. Not that I'm complaining or anything, though it would be sad if they rushed into this so fast that it falls apart in the long-term.
My god, cooperation is springing up province-wide.
And hey, it looks like even Piste has come around, and by the effort of Zephyr, too. I was apparently being unfair to her.
Huh, now that's a twist.
Pretty awesome dance.
Progress!