Age of Kings

by A bag of plums

38 - A Rotten Thing To Do

“And that concludes our training for today, my lady.” Sir Morn removed his helmet and grinned.

Emerald Edge panted as she sheathed Amore, pushing up locks of her turquoise hair. She was sweating from just about head to toe, while Sir Morn Dread himself barely broke a sweat.

“As able as always, Sir Morn.” Emerald put a hand on his arm. “Your human abilities exceed all others.”

They both shared a laugh and a sack of water.

“Alas, tis getting late. I think we should get ready for dinner.”

“It is.” Emerald nodded. “Come. I am famished.”

Emerald took Sir Morn’s hand and dragged him to the castle’s food hall for dinner. At first, nothing seemed to stand out to her, with everything going by like it always has.

It was only when her plate of vegetables and fruit was placed before her did she begin to see something wrong.

“This apple…” Emerald picked it up and examined it. “Something is wrong.”

It looked like any other apple, but there was a smell coming from it that Emerald found odd. Apples didn’t smell like this. Something in its scent seemed to leave a burning feeling in her nose.

Sir Morn sniffed and frowned, his eyes locked on the apple. “You are right, my lady. And tis not just yours. Tis all the apples in the hall.”

A few of the other trainee knights and even Sir Hors had apples on their tables, beside their plates of food.

Emerald looked back at her apple and unsheathed her hidden blade. Maybe it was something inside.

Digging her blade in, she easily made an incision and scooped up part of it, putting it on her plate and looking within the apple. To her horror, there was a dark substance now leaking from the hole in the apple, almost black in color. It looked like it was writhing as Emerald tilted the apple.

“There is something inside. It smells like…” Emerald coughed, covering her nose. The burning sensation was stronger now. “It’s poison!”

“Poison indeed!” Sir Morn wrinkled his nose and stood up. “Knights, do not consume your apples! They have been poisoned!”

Sir Hors, who had almost been about to take a bite, dropped his apple, along with his jaw. “How preposterous! Who would do such a thing?!”

Emerald Edge put her poisoned apple down and stood up as well. “Sir Morn, do you know where these apples come from?”

“I guessed they must have come from your apple farming friends. Honeygold and her family,” Sir Morn replied. “It has been… four days since their departure from Canterlot?”

“Five, but that does not make sense.” Emerald rubbed her chin. Honeygold or her parents would never sell poisoned apples to them. “May we have a look at the supply, Sir Morn?”

“Right.” The blue haired knight nodded and grabbed a servant. “Take us to the store, good servant.”

“At once, sir knight!”

Emerald and Morn followed behind him as they made their way out of the mess hall and down a flight of steps. Just beyond a wooden door at the far end of a hall were crates of apples, stacked atop each other. Following her nose, Emerald ignored the first two stacks and locked on to the third stack.

The third stack’s crates didn’t have the Apple family crest painted on them.

“Where did these ones come from?” Emerald peeled open one crate and took out an apple to examine it.

“We did find a stack of crates outside the castle yesterday,” the servant said as Emerald dug her hidden blade into the apple. “We assumed they had been ordered.”

“You assumed wrong.” The former pegasus showed the servant the inside of the apple. It too was brimming with the poisonous substance. “It seems this poison is intentional.”

“Apologies, lady knight.” The servant cowered lower. “We did not realize…”

Emerald sighed. “What is done is done, servant, but we must ensure more safety in the future.”

“Yes… I apologize again, lady knight. I am so sorry.”

Morn clapped him on the shoulder. “Enough apologizing. Right now, we must find the culprits. Who knows how many apples they might have sent out.”

Just then, there was a thunder of footsteps from outside and when Emerald peeked out, she spotten Sir Hors running down, his helmet under his arm.

“Sir Morn, Lady Emerald, we have more news. Sir Prancelot has returned with more discovery.”

“More?” Emerald looked to Morn.

“Go along. I shall remain to remove these bad apples.” Sir Morn held Emerald’s hand for a second.

The spymaster nodded and followed Sir Hors back up. Sir Prancelot was waiting by the castle’s drawbridge, running a hand through his dark hair.

“Ah, Hors, you have returned.” Prancelot smiled and bowed when he saw Emerald. “And I see you have brought Lady Emerald. Tis good to see you have yet to eat the apples, my lady.”

“Tell the lady the news, Sir Prancelot.”

“Right, so I have returned from my travels to Hoofington and it seems these apples are not just appearing in Canterlot.” Prancelot made a grim face. “The townsfolk there had reports of vomiting and fever. Fifteen dead. Tragic. Rest assured, my lady, whoever has poisoned these apples, they shall be brought to justice.”

“Couldn’t have said it better, Sir Prancelot,” Emerald said. She too, wanted to see the culprits either dead or behind bars. “So where do we start?”

“Why, we start by pinpointing the affected locales, Lady Emerald,” Sir Hors said gruffly. “These apples must all be coming from the same origin. The culprits must be traveling to towns close to their origin.”

“Good eye, Sir Hors.”

Emerald watched as Prancelot and Hors laughed and began discussing amongst themselves, almost like they had forgotten she was here.

The apples were brought in by the servants when they found them outside the castle gates. Emerald remembered. Perhaps we can start by asking if any of the castle workers saw anyone or anything out of the ordinary.

Adjusting her red and gold cloak, Emerald left Sir Hors and Sir Prancelot to continue their discussion without her. The first person to ask, she decided, would be the stable master. The stables were located just along the castle’s wall, and from there it was very easy to see anyone who was coming or going.

Iron Hoof was in the process of brushing one of his horses, but upon hearing Emerald approach, he put the brush down and bowed.

“Ah, good knight. What can I do for you?”

Emerald waited until he had straightened up from his bow. “Ah, good evening to you too. There has arisen somewhat of a predicament in the castle, and we are running an investigation. I wish to ask, in the past few days, did you notice anyone or anything suspicious coming to the castle? Like a pallet of apples, for example.”

The stable master scratched his goatee. “Well, now that you mention it…”

Emerald leaned in closer.

“I did see something being delivered. I was shoeing one of my horses at the time, so I wasn’t paying too much attention, but this delivery was being pulled up by these two big men. Not local. I thought that was a bit strange, since normally any goods are hauled in by horses.”

“I see…” Emerald said slowly. “Do you know where they came from?”

“Nay,” Iron Hoof said with a shrug. “I tend not to ask too many questions, my lady. Got too much work to do.”

The stable master didn’t have much else to contribute so Emerald bid him farewell and walked slowly back to the castle, where the other knights were still talking. The other Knights of the Round Table had joined them, with the exception of Sir Morn and Sir Lionheart, now in the midst of deep conversation.

“I think I have an idea of how we can discover the poisoned apples’ origin,” Emerald said loudly. This attracted the curious looks of several of her comrades.

“Oh, really? Do tell.”

“Iron Hoof says he saw the apples being delivered by hand,” Emerald explained. “I believe that with a skilled enough tracker, we can trace the apples back to where they came from.”

“But none of us is that good at tracking,” Hors protested.

“I know,” Emerald said, having already thought of that. “But I know someone who is.”

A smile grew over Ganeighn’s face.

“I shall ask my friend Posey to help track the scoundrels down. If anyone can do it, she can.”

“Ah, the archer.” Prancelot nodded his approval. “I have seen her strength and skill firsthand. And the reports Sir Ganeighn delivered on the Trottingham siege not too long ago also proves the archer’s abilities.”

“Everfree Forest,” Sir Hors said. “Tis a nice name, but I see no need for the change.”

“Sir knights, the apples.” Emerald hoped to get them back on topic.

“I shall ride out to find our archer friend.” Sir Ganeighn swiftly volunteered. “And I shall send my squire to do some digging of information within the castle.”

And then Sir Ganeighn was off, heading towards the castle to first find his squire.

“As will mine,” Sir Hors grunted.

“And we will need to send out a message to all the towns,” Boercival said thoughtfully. “Telling them to not eat any apples until we sort this out. I will dispatch the messenger hawks immediately.”

“Such wanted destruction…” Prancelot shook his head. “Whoever has planned this, justice shall find them.”

“I will go aid Sir Morn in his investigation in the store,” Sir Agramane said and put a hand to his chest. “We shall see if anything turns up.”

“Yes. Lady Emerald.” Sir Prancelot turned to the spymaster. “Perhaps you and I can narrow down possible origin points. You have skills in subterfuge, do you not?”

Emerald nodded. “I do have some experience, yes.”

“Some experience?” Sir Trotivere laughed. “You sell yourself short, my lady. Go, test your skills with Sir Prancelot. Find who has done this deed.”

“If you insist.” Emerald nodded her farewells to the other Knights of the Round Table and followed Prancelot across the drawbridge. “You say Hoofington was affected. That is not far from here, yes?”

“Aye, Lady Emerald. Close enough to Canterlot.”

Just then, Sir Hors returned, stroking at his beard thoughtfully.

“Ah, Hors, you return. What is it you have for us?” Prancelot turned to him.

“My squire has asked the other knight patrols that have recently returned. It seems Hoofington is not the only affected town. Trottingham has also been affected. Eight dead.”

Emerald clenched her fists. Whoever was responsible for this was a coward, killing townsfolk with poisoned apples. There was no good reason to kill townsfolk. Ever. And it hadn’t even been two months that they were liberated from the Sheriff of Trottingham when he returned to lure Posey out. The spymaster pictured the Trottingham townsfolk celebrating the Shetland’s new name, eating apples only to fall from the poison. Despicable.

“Right. While Boercival gets the messenger hawks out, we need to get the town criers to spread the message throughout Canterlot that apples are not safe to eat. Once we’re done with that, we will simply need to wait for Posey’s help with tracking down the source of this scourge.”

“It’s all close by…” Emerald rubbed at her chin. “Hoofington, Trottingham, Canterlot. It is a small sphere they are operating from. They have to be close by. Somewhere where it would be difficult to track them to.”

The knights got to work, drafting scrolls for the town criers to read off of. In less than half an hour, messengers departed from Canterlot Castle to all four corners of the city, bearing the missives of the knights as Emerald worked to pinpoint where the source of the apples was.

“I will take some of these apples to the Mages’ Tower,” Trotivere announced. “Perhaps they can brew an antidote for those who are poisoned.”

“Tis a good idea.” Sir Prancelot nodded and dusted his armored hands. “Sir Hors and I shall wait for Sir Ganeighn and the archer by the town gates. Once they return to us, we can get to work to find out where our culprits are.”

“Wait, I’m coming too.” Emerald tagged along behind them as they headed out to Canterlot town. “Whoever did this deserves to pay.”

“Well said, my lady,” Prancelot said with a smile. “They shall not get a second chance to poison more of the common folk.”

Emerald Edge watched the direction of the now Everfree Forest as they left the town gates, keeping an eye out for Ganeighn and Posey. She had to be ready.

As it turned out, being ready took a lot of effort. She was completely ready for a short time, then sort of ready once the bell struck one. And she was not ready at all when someone tapped her on the shoulder, making her jump out of her daydreaming.

“Emerald,” Moon Tide said primly. She was carrying a large satchel with her. “After a brief look at the poisoned apples, we determined that they were not individually poisoned.”

“What does that mean?” Emerald asked, scratching her head.

“It means that somewhere out there, there is a poisonous apple tree, possibly more. An orchard at worst. So I prepared a little something extra for you, once you get to the source of these apples.”

Moon Tide reached into her satchel and brought out what looked like a set of bellows, like the kind used for stoking the fire at a forge. However, these bellows had a kind of jar attached to the underside, and a candle in front of the nozzle.

“Something Beatrix and Secret Fire came up with, while Nightfall created the bellows. You light the candle, then pump the bellows at the thing you want to go up in flames. Oh, and make sure nobody you care about is standing in front of you when you do it. Once the jar of powder is empty, simply unscrew it and put in a fresh one. There are five refills in the satchel.”

“Fascinating invention…” Hors placed his helmet on his head and took the bellows from Moon Tide. “You mages create the best weapons for our work.”

“So these culprits…” Emerald looked at the bellows, then out ahead, where she could make out the lake and the stone she had emerged from. “They have had enough time to grow these trees of poison apples. It has to be a forest. It has to be a close by forest.”

Prancelot nodded in agreement. “There are but two places near these three towns that contain clusters of trees. The Shetl- ahem, Everfree Forest, and the Berry Swamplands.”

“They must be in one of them.” Sir Hors placed a hand on his sword’s pommel.

Emerald had never asked its name, but it was, of course, made of the strong steel that Honor Proof had used to make Amore and the other swords. Purple gems adorned its guard, matching Emerald’s eyes. She had fought against it once before, but that was long ago, during the tournament for the shield that Emerald was determined to win in the next one.

“Thank you for your gifts, Moon Tide.” Prancelot accepted the satchel of powder from the mage. “We shall put these to good use and make sure no more poisoned apples are sent out to poor unsuspecting villagers. Knight’s honor.”

“Of course. And if you run out of fire powder, there are six vials of alchemist’s fire in there too. Simply throw the vial, and watch the fireworks.”

“When did you become so… inventive?” Emerald asked.

Moon Tide smiled. “I may have learned a thing or two from Nightfall Gleam. The bellows were her idea, I just refined the design. And of course, you have Beatrix and Secret Fire to thank for the powder. I suppose we work well as an inventive team.”

Emerald chuckled. “Maybe not Secret Fire and Nightfall Gleam.”

“Not Secret Fire and Nightfall Gleam.” Moon Tide laughed as well. Then she looked around and then back at Emerald. “Have you seen my son?”

“I believe he’s down in the castle storage with Sir Agramane. If they’re still there,” Emerald said, swishing her cloak to the side.

“I would think he would have liked to be with you instead.” Moon Tide sniffed. “But at least you are in good hands, Emerald. Sir Prancelot and Sir Hors are skilled in battle as well.”

“Aye, that we are, Lady Emerald.” Sir Prancelot slapped a fist to his chest with a resounding bonk.

“I don’t doubt it.” Emerald grinned. Then she saw something in the corner of her eye.

“Oh, look. Sir Ganeighn and Posey are here!”

In the distance, they spotted the duo riding over on Ganeighn’s horse, Ragnel, which Emerald thought was an odd sounding name. Posey gave them all a wave as they got closer, but Emerald was the only one to wave back.

“Greetings, archer.” Sir Prancelot said when they were within earshot. “Has Sir Ganeighn explained the situation to you?”

“Hello, and yes, he has.” Posey turned to the right and looked along the dirt path leading out of town. “They are not in the Everfree Forest. I suspect they are towards the Berry Swamplands.”

“Spot on observations, sir and lady knights.” Moon Tide grinned. “I should get back to the tower. Good luck out there. And I hope you find whoever is responsible.”

And the mage left the gates, making her walk back.

“And we should head for the swamp.” Sir Prancelot waved for the others. “Come, let us ride.”

In no time, the knights and Posey were on their way to the Berry Swamplands, trotting along atop their horses as Gabriel flew overhead, squawking from time to time. Emerald wondered if he was saying anything important, but only Posey was able to understand. She didn’t know how, but she took the archer’s word that she understood what her bird companion was saying.

“I noticed the poisoned apples when I went to make a stew. They smelled funny, so I knew something was wrong. To deliberately poison apples though…” Posey shook her head. “That’s barbaric. Apples are one of the most beloved fruit in the land.”

“Are we getting closer on the trail?” Hors asked from his saddle, growing tired of the long journey.

Posey whistled for Gabriel, who swooped down and squawked at the archer.

“Hmm. Yes, Gabriel, I see,” she said, rewarding the eagle with a piece of dried meat from her belt pouch. “We’re getting close. The swamplands are an ideal place to hide, but even hiding a grove of apple trees isn’t easy. There are only so many places it could be.”

“You do know how to track them, I presume?” Hors rode alongside Posey and Ganeighn, a dubious look on his face.

“Of course she does, Hors. I trust her with my life.” Ganeighn tapped Posey on the arm, making her blush. “I am sure she will lead us straight to the perpetrators.”

Emerald smirked. It was so Posey to blush at everything Ganeighn said about her. She wondered how the two of them were progressing.

Gabriel squawked again and Posey nodded, letting him fly back up to the air. “There are traces of poison coming from the trees close to the crags.”

“She speaks eagle?” Sir Hors looked to Emerald.

“Well, she says there’s more to it than that, but the long and short of it is, yes, she does.”

Sir Hors gave Emerald a skeptical squint. “Huh. Very well then.”

The ride to the Berry Swamplands didn’t take too long, and soon, Emerald could see the cluster of trees at the swamp’s edge, leading down into the bog bellow, where those poisoned trees were supposed to be.

“The crags are further along the river down there,” Posey explained. “We may simply follow the river to them. Just watch out for crocodiles.”

“Or a bogadile, eh, archer?” Ganeighn told Posey playfully.

“B-But the bogadile isn’t real,” Posey said quietly.

“The archer speaks the truth.” Sir Prancelot smiled and got off his horse. “The bogadile is but a legend, told to us to keep us from wandering too far into swamps like this.”

“Bogadile, huh?” Emerald found that name to be a strange one. “You humans have interesting imagination.”

Emerald dismounted, immediately sinking ankle deep into the thick, oozy mud of the swamp, and this wasn’t even at the river yet.

“Eeurgh,” she said, looking down at her feet. It was going to be a bother to clean her greaves later.

“Indeed.” Ganeighn lifted one foot out of the mud and shook it. “I do not know how the mages can stand coming here for ingredients and materials.”

“There’s probably a safe path through all this muck,” Posey reasoned. “Now come on, Gabriel. Show us where the poisonous trees are.”

“Your eagle is trained in sniffing out poisons?” Prancelot asked. “I thought that was only canaries.”

“Gabriel can do many things.” Posey watched her friend soar ahead, leading them north. “And the trees are this way.”

Posey looked back down and squinted, and after a few seconds, she began walking on, beckoning for Emerald and the knights to follow her.

“What a strange peasant,” Sir Hors grumbled as he trudged through the mud.

“Very talented peasant, Sir Hors.” Ganeighn nudged him.

Emerald Edge tried to balance her weight out on her feet, trying not to take too deep of a step into the mud as they proceeded down the slope leading to the river. It would be a bigger bother if her legs were to get stuck in the mud.

As they traveled, Sir Ganeighn went up ahead to talk to Posey, leaving Emerald with Sir Prancelot and the grumpy Sir Hors, who was muttering curses as he stumbled along after them.

“So who do you think is behind this, Lady Emerald?” Sir Prancelot walked on beside her. “Poison. If I am not mistaken, I hazard a guess that tis the druids that are up to no good again.”

“I’m starting to think that the druids have nothing better to do than to bring darkness on the kingdom,” Emerald spat. “Someone should come up with a name for people who spread terror.”

“We already say druids,” Sir Hors said with a slight irritation. “What more do you wish to call them?”

“I’m just saying.” Emerald shrugged. She never got why Sir Hors was always so grumpy.

“Oh, do not mind his temper, Lady Emerald.” Sir Prancelot patted her on the shoulder. “Tis the way he is. Hors had come from an abusive home. Both his parents used to hit him and yell at him. Tis his resolve that he is unlike them.”

“That’s terrible… I never knew, Sir Hors.” Emerald looked at him more sympathetically.

“Tis not something I go around telling,” The brown-skinned knight grunted. “But now that the secret is out…” He flashed Prancelot an evil eye. “Do not tell anyone else, yes?”

The other knight smiled innocently and pretended to take interest in the sky and started whistling.

“I won’t, Sir Hors,” Emerald said, pulling her foot from another thick patch of mud. At least, she thought it was mud. It was hard to tell, with everything being brown. “I respect your wishes.”

Hors nodded. “Then we have our quest to complete. Come. The faster we move, the quicker we shall find our perpetrators.”

Once they were finally down the slope, the Knights of the Round Table and Posey found the swampy river, following it along as Posey seemed to know the way ahead towards the crags, as they called it. Emerald had never been here, but judging from what she had already experienced here, she didn’t want to be back here anytime soon.

Sir Ganeighn was busy happily talking to Posey, so Emerald didn’t want to interrupt them and ask how Posey seemed to know where she was going. It was probably Gabriel, just that she found it weird that Posey had to keep squinting.

“So what made you decide to become a knight, Sir Prancelot?” Emerald decided to strike up a conversation with one of the king’s most talented knights. “Is it some grand story like Sir Lionheart’s?”

Emerald had heard Lionheart’s tale from the human’s own mouth a few months ago. He had acted bravely in a bandit raid and even almost managed to drive them away on his own and when the king and his men had come to help, they brought back the courageous Lionheart with them to train as a knight. It wasn’t his skills or combat prowess that had earned him a place on the Round Table, though he wasn’t lacking in either one. It was his courage that led him to where he was today.

“My story, my lady?” Prancelot put a hand on his chest. “No, nothing of such grandeur like Sir Lionheart. No, mine is of the ordinary tales. I come from a well off family of nobles. One day, my father decided I was to become a knight, and here I am today.”

“Oh.” Emerald tried to sound less disappointed. “Just like that.”

“Like I said, Lady Emerald, nothing like Sir Lionheart’s tale,” Prancelot chuckled. “It has been long since I first became a knight. I have known the king for as long as I remember. The queen much longer.”

“Oh, you had known the queen first?”

“Oh, not this tale again…” Sir Hors slapped a hand to the front of his helmet.

Prancelot grinned and stood taller. “Why, my family were close friends with the family of the queen before she and the king were to be wed. Queen Sunlight and I were inseparable in our youth.”

“Really?” Emerald was interested. She had never known Princesses Celestia and Luna when they were young, then again, they were much older than she was, being immortal and all. “What was she like back then?”

A more serious look seemed to creep into Prancelot’s eyes as he spoke. “She was a young outgoing maiden, Lady Emerald. She knew her fair share of jests and silly phrases. She would never say no to some mischief, yet, she was as kind as could be.”

“You sound like you were good friends,” Emerald ventured. “It mustn’t have been easy when she was to marry King Dawn Saber.”

“Aye, though he was still a prince then. Sunlight, however, has taken it very seriously. She is… changed. Perhaps for the better of the kingdom, but I shan’t deny that I miss our days in the sun together.”

“Well, people do change, ponies or humans,” Emerald said consolingly. The mud beneath her feet got more slippery, so she started walking more carefully as they followed the river.

“Yes, I agree, but have you ever seen someone undergo a complete personality change overnight?” Prancelot said, looking like he had just eaten a lemon.

Emerald tilted her head to the side. “How do you mean, Sir Prancelot?”

“Before the day of their wedding, Sunlight and I would…” Prancelot paused. “Tis nothing. You do not need to think too much of it.”

“Oh. Uh, as you wish, Sir Prancelot…”

They followed Posey until the river diverged to the right, and that was where they made a left turn through a short brush, emerging on the other side now facing a lower valley, filled with crags and even holes in the ground where steam seemed to be coming from. Emerald had never seen such wonders, even in Equestria.

“There, do you see them.” Posey lifted a finger and pointed to the other side of the crags, where forest had started again. “Those are the trees.”

Emerald looked at them. They looked the same as any of the other trees around them. “How can you tell?”

“Umm… something I picked up,” Posey simply said. “Do you have the bellows? We should get it ready. And wait, there!”

Posey pointed again. At first, Emerald saw nothing, but then a movement over by the trees caught her eyes. There were men in brown robes walking amongst the trees with baskets on their arms, filled with apples.

“Druids,” Sir Hors growled. “To be expected.”

“Of course they’re involved,” Emerald said flatly. “So who shall use the bellows? If not, I shall be the one.”

“Tis a good sounding plan, my lady.” Prancelot looked over the bushes at the druids. “Hors, Ganeighn and I can cause a distraction, while you rid this world of such poison. The archer can cover us all from above, yes?”

Posey tapped her bow and nodded.

“Do you remember Moon Tide’s instructions, my lady?” Sir Hors put a hand on his sword. “It would be a shame if we do not know how to use it.”

“I have to light the candle at the front, then pump the bellows to blow out the fire powder. What about the vials of alchemist’s fire?”

“I have them here.” Prancelot unslung the satchel and handed it to Emerald. “There are flints in there as well. To light the candle.

“Right, so Ganeighn, Hors and I shall approach from the crags, there.” The knight pointed down to where the crags sloped up to the other side of the forest. “Ganeighn, your sword is stronger in the sun, is it not? So you shall approach further to the east, where the shade is less.”

“You shall hear no complaints from me, Sir Prancelot,” Ganeighn said with a smirk.

“Then it is settled. We know our objectives.” Sir Prancelot put on his helmet and pushed down his visor. “Lady Emerald, try not to have too much fun.”

The spymaster chuckled and dug around the satchel until she found the flints. “I will try, Sir Prancelot.”

As soon as the others had moved off, Emerald took the flints in her hands and struck them together. The first few times produced nothing, but on the fifth try, sparks flew from the stones, and Emerald grinned. Striking the flints again, she directed the sparks onto the wick of the candle. It smoldered for a moment, then burst into a small tongue of orange flame, dancing devilishly atop the candle wax.

“Right. Time to get this done.”

Posey watched the fire on the candle and then nodded to Emerald as they both pulled their hoods up. “Be careful with that.”

Then she was already climbing up one tree, disappearing into the branches and leaves above.

Emerald licked her lips. She already had a shrewd idea of what this device was supposed to do, and she was looking forward to using it on the poisoned apple trees.

Leaving her position, Emerald crept around behind the brush and around the edge of the crags, stealthily making her way towards the poison orchard where the druids were. The knights were now standing down by one of the steam vents, their swords in hand. Even from all the way here, Ganeighn’s blade, Galatine, shone brighter than Sir Prancelot and Sir Hors’ Arondight and Caladbolg, whose metals were of a duller and less reflective kind.

It made Emerald wonder if Ganeighn’s weapon really was stronger under the sun, but there was no way Honor Proof could manage that, even with all his blacksmithing skills. Right?

Emerald gave the bellows an experimental pump. A tongue of flame lashed out a good meter ahead, lighting up her surroundings. Thankfully, she hadn’t aimed it at any of the trees or bushes. Causing a forest fire over here where Posey was wasn’t such a good idea.

Keeping the bellows low so as not to alert anyone with the candle flame, Emerald stole closer to the apple tree grove. The former pegasus kept to the shadows, and as she got nearer, she could see that these apple trees were shrouded in some kind of oily fog. It smelled rather bad and she used one hand to cover her nose and mouth.

Slinking over to hide behind a crate of apples, Emerald peeked over and saw a druid in the process of picking apples from a nearby tree. It was somewhat difficult to tell with the mist, but there only seemed to be three druids. The one picking apples, and two up on a small overlook who were talking to each other about something. Just then, she heard Sir Ganeighn shouting from below and the two druids at the overlook turned their heads towards the crags, while the third stopped picking an apple and looked over as well, though he wouldn’t be able to see anything from here.

Perfect. There’s my distraction.

Dashing out from behind the apple crate, Emerald ran over to the lone druid and stabbed him in the back with her hidden blade. He spilled the basket of apples before falling forward, slowly bleeding out over the muddy ground as Emerald got her secret weapon ready.

Emerald ran up to the nearest tree, took three steps back, then pumped the bellows. With a roar, a huge blossom of fire licked out of the nozzle, the bright orange flames clinging to the tree and setting it alight like a torch.

“You mages have really outdone yourselves this time!” Emerald said in amazement as she pumped the bellows at another tree, watching as the fire from the first tree began to spread. There was the problem of the fire spreading to the rest of the forest, so she would have to make sure not to have too much fun with this contraption.

Emerald grinned and turned the firethrower onto the crate of apples, watching as it went up in a crackling conflagration. She grinned and allowed herself one cheer of victory before beginning to burn everything else. The two druids who were earlier distracted by the knights down in the crags finally turned around to behold Emerald’s swift work on their poisonous orchard.

“No! It took decades to grow those trees! Stop her!”

Digging through the satchel, Emerald got out a jar of Alchemist’s fire and decided to try it. A glass vial full of red liquid arced up and broke near the two druids’ feet, exploding into a massive fireball.

“Magic!” one of the druids shrieked, her robes catching on fire. “We cannot win this. Retreat! Retreat!”

An arrow flew out from a tree and embedded itself into the other druid’s knee, sending him rolling down on the ground, his back on fire. The first druid picked him up and they both began hobbling away, flailing their arms.

Emerald decided to let them go. After all, how far could they possibly get. And besides, her main targets were these apple trees here, grown to be poisonous. Despicable indeed.

Watching the fire spread, Emerald put out the fire on her candle and waited. The other three knights were up the hill by now, their eyes on the fire as well. Sir Ganeighn raised his sword in a salute as the last of the apple trees began to crumble.

“Tis a real shame to have to burn these trees.” Prancelot shook his head. “But tis good that these druids shall no longer use them to take innocent lives. Justice has prevailed!”

“We should leave.” Posey was suddenly beside them, placing her bow behind her back. “We do not want to be around this fire as it spreads.”

“The archer has a point. Let us go.”

The party hurried away from the orchard as fast the mud would let them. The burning trees sent up a column of thick, oily smoke that would be visible for leagues around. Hopefully it would serve as a warning to the druids that their schemes would not be tolerated in the Kingdom of Canterlot.

“Hoho, we certainly showed them, didn’t we?” Prancelot cheered. “We did not even have to lift a sword.”

“We have. They surely forgot to account for Knights of the Round Table showing up.” Sir Hors removed his helmet, revealing a smug grin on his face. “Perhaps next time, they will think twice before trying to cause any trouble.”

“Another quest completed,” Ganeighn said in a satisfied voice. “I think we could all use a wash, and then a nice tankard of the finest apple cider, don’t you agree?”

“We seem to drink everytime we return from a quest,” Emerald chuckled. “Don’t you think we should cut back on the cider?”

“It would be prudent to wait for a while until all the poisoned apples are out of circulation as well,” Prancelot nodded. “I would not want to return from this quest only to die because the cider was made from those apples.”

“Indeed,” Hors said. “Say, how do you all feel about pears?”

---

“Ugh, finally, the fire’s out…” The female druid squeezed on the bottom of her robes, wringing water from it as they walked out to the shallow part of the river. “How’s your knee?”

“I will live.” The male druid looked at his now bandaged up knee. They had removed the arrow earlier, but it was a fact that he was never going to run again. “What will we do now? With the orchard destroyed, we will have no more poisoned apples going out to the towns. Nimhe will want an explanation.”

“Oh, Nimhe this, Nimhe that...” the female druid scoffed. “She’s only in leadership because Duchan and Galar are in prison. If it were up to me, I would go join another druid clan.”

“So why don’t you?”

“Because it’s… not up to me.” The female was unsure of what to say.

“Right…” The male struggled to his feet, removing a reed from his bottom. “Come. We must report to Nimhe. She will know what to do.”

The female druid nodded, then looked down at the male druid’s blood dripping from his bandaged knee, tainting the river water with a dark red blot, slowly dispersing into the water. “You might have to give up your druid ways now. Become a guard.”

“We will see what Nimhe thinks.”

The female sighed. “Enough of Nimhe. Let us leave. The knights are bound to catch up if we-”

A splash from behind her turned her attention to the river. The Berry Swamplands were known for its crocodiles, but what was behind her was no crocodile, at least, not any normal one. The monster was at least a good meter taller than the two druids and its body was much longer, stretching back into the deeper part of the river.

She had heard of tales of this mythical creature, but she had always dismissed them as folklore. This beast was of the stories one’s parents would speak of to scare their children so that they wouldn’t be naughty or play in swamps.

“Bog-Bogadi-!”

She only had so much time to scream that before the monster lunged forward and swallowed her whole.

The male druid scrambled back, limping out of the water as his blood trailed behind him.

“This has to be a dream! The bogadile doesn’t exist! It doesn’t!”

And then he was falling, his face landing in a chunk of mud. He couldn’t feel his left leg anymore. Turning around, the druid only had enough time to utter a short scream before he was devoured by the giant crocodile.

Once it was done, the bogadile turned and slinked back under the water, disappearing from sight as it made its way back to its lair. It always made sure to never leave any evidence behind when it was finished with a meal. That way, the legend would live on always.

---

Comments

[Jaxxon Markus Citadel]

Medieval flamethrower! Gotta give the mages credit for creating something like that. There seem to be a lot of evil druids running around Canterlot. Any plans for the knights to go on the offensive?

[Marcthelightspark2004]

“We already say druids,” Sir Hors said with a slight irritation. “What more do you wish to call them?”

Templar?

[Marcthelightspark2004]

“My story, my lady?” Prancelot put a hand on his chest. “No, nothing of such grandeur like Sir Lionheart. No, mine is of the ordinary tales. I come from a well off family of nobles. One day, my father decided I was to become a knight, and here I am today.”

Oh, I remember the version from the Merlin TV show, which is the opposite.

[MoonlightRift]

Very interesting stuff.