Ice Fall

by Bluespectre

Chapter Twenty Nine - Before the Mast

CHAPTER TWENTY NINE

BEFORE THE MAST

Doc and Gretel trotted along the road leading up to one of the smaller buildings on the island. The Captain hadn’t explained much - in fact ‘Come with me’ was pretty much the extent of the conversation. He clucked his tongue. He’d been having such a nice chat with Strata too! He’d never met such an intelligent and insightful stallion before. The crew by comparison were all a little, well, ‘less intellectually stimulating’ to say the least. Years of alcohol had probably killed more of their brain cells than he could shake a hoof at. The Captain suddenly stopped, her eyes flashing dangerously,

“Doc, have you noticed anypony on the crew acting strangely lately?”

Doc shrugged, “No more than usual, Captain and certainly nothing that jumps out at me.”

Gretel frowned, “That’s what bothers me.”

“Is that why we’re here?” Doc asked.

The Captain gritted her teeth, clearly annoyed about something. First making sure nopony was nearby, she banged her hoof on the ground and shook her mane, “It’s this whole business, Doc, all of it” She said letting out a sigh, “I thought Hay Wain may have been behind it, but that just doesn’t make any sense to me.”

“Too grandiose?” Doc asked quietly, “You know what that would do to his reputation if it got out that he’d betrayed an entire ship and her crew. He’d be finished.”

Gretel nodded, “True enough, but that’s not to say he wouldn’t if the payout was big enough. But, no…I don’t think he did.”

“Why?”

“Because if he had,” Gretel reasoned, “there wouldn’t be any need for Aeon to kidnap Lord Rapere’s daughter. He could have just waited for us to dock and then move in and take us out.”

“What about as insurance?” Doc asked, “It’s possible that Aeon captured the girl to ensure they’d play along.”

“Maybe…maybe…” Gretel scratched her chin thoughtfully, “I just don’t see it though. To do something like that, it’s so risky, and would have destroyed the Wind Wraith’s reputation with the griffins, and you know how influential they are in weapons trading.”

Doc sat on haunches, rubbing his chin thoughtfully, “So if it wasn’t Hay Wain behind this, then who? Are you suggesting somepony on the crew?”

Gretel looked at him for a long moment, “Perhaps. There was very little time before we departed, so I suspect it was either somepony in Hay Wains employ, or…”

“-One of our crew…” Doc finished.

Gretel closed her eyes, “I can’t, or more specifically, don’t want to believe it, Doc, but I’m damned well going to find out.”

“But how?” Doc asked, “Good goddesses, Gretel, for all you know it could have been me!”

The red mare grinned, “I doubt that. You’ve had years were you could have done away with your lovely Captain.” She shook her head, “No, I’m going to have a little chat with somepony who will know.”

“Who?”

Gretel raised an eyebrow and beckoned Doc to follow her,

“Remember that little snot who tried to shaft us on the arms deal last year?”

Doc furrowed his brow, “Ah…”

Of course he remembered. That little swine had nearly had them wiped out by dragons. It was only pure luck that one of the crew had overheard a conversation in the tavern by one of the Wind Wraiths drunkards that they’d managed to escape. It had in actuality been a very poorly concocted plan in the first place - a simple misdirection really, putting them right in the flight path of the annual dragon migration, and after spraying hormones on the Revenge’s hull…of course. The next part of their plan would have been even easier. While the Revenge was busy being humped into matchwood by rampant dragons, the Wind Wraith would simply snuck in and flogged their own cargo of weapons to the now desperate buyer at a vastly inflated price. Better yet, they could then scavenge the wreck of the Revenge for more cargo on the return trip. Once the dragons had left of course. Doc shook his head. Goddesses, they’d trotted right into that one.

Gretel nodded to the guards, “I believe Lord Rapere sent word?”

“Yes, Captain Gretel” one of the griffins replied tersely, and neatly sidestepped the outer steel door after first unlocking it.

Inside the storehouse itself, the smaller locked room was apparently used for especially valuable items. Last time she’d been in here, the valuable items in question had been herself and two of her crewponies. This time however, the tables had turned, and their captor had become the captive. A familiar cream coated pony and several of the Wind Wraiths crew including, she noticed, the blue feathered griffin ‘assistant’ sat dejectedly awaiting their fate.

“Come to gloat?” Impulse said quietly, shaking his crimson mane, “I wondered how long it would take you to get here.”

“I have to say I do find the irony, what’s the word now…Delicious?” Gretel smirked.

“Go to hell.”

“Already been there,” Gretel replied tartly, “Ever seen a horny dragon, Impulse?”

The cream earth pony barked out a laugh,

“Ha! Pity that didn’t work out so well, you’d have made a fine mate for one of those things.”

“Indeed.” Gretel leaned against the bars, “Now, how about a little chat, you and I?”

“What about?” Impulse asked suspiciously, “You killed Aeon and you’ve taken our ship as a prize. What the hell have we got left to talk about?”

The red mare began to examine her hoof absently, “Well, in the absence of their former employer, I’ve been considering hiring on the former crew of the Wind Wraith. Providing they haven’t been involved in any particular ‘unpleasantness’ with the, shall we say, ‘cargo’?” The other ponies in the cell began to mutter excitedly to themselves. “Oops!” Gretel chuckled, “Looks like I won’t need to speak to you after all then, Mister Impulse. Your friends know a good deal when they hear one.” She called through the bars, “Whadda ya say lads?”

“AYE!”

“And there you go,” she smiled at the cream earth pony glaring up at her, “enjoy the hospitality of the griffins, Impulse, I hope you…er, go down well?”

“What the hell do you want from me?” Impulse mumbled bitterly.

Gretel smiled, “Who told you I was coming here?”

“Ah! I wondered if you’d ask that. Haven’t figured it out yet then?” Impulse smirked, “Get me out of here and I’ll tell you what I know.”

The Captain nodded, “Done.”

Impulse grinned menacingly, “I don’t know who it was specifically, but it was one of the Revenge’s crew alright. We’d been on our way here to trade when a pegasus, a damned fast one too, found our ship and brought a message scroll to the Captain.”

“How do you know it was from one of the Revenge’s crew?” Gretel asked.

Impulse shook his mane as he replied, “Because the Captain told me it was ‘from an old friend’, and I sure as hell know that isn’t Hay Wain, not after the whole dragon thing.”

“Aye…you crapped in your own nest on that one alright.” Doc chipped in, earning a sneer from the Wind Wraiths former officer.

“And you never asked or found out who it was?” Gretel asked.

“Aeon didn’t tell ponies things he didn’t want them to know,” Impulse said levelly, “not even the Master of his own ship.”

“What do you think?” Gretel whispered to Doc.

The blue ships doctor kept his voice low so the other couldn’t hear him,

“I think he’s telling the truth. After all, his hides on the line, his Captains dead, so it’s in his own best interests to be truthful.”

Gretel looked away thoughtfully.

Impulse banged on the bars, “Hoy! I told you what you wanted to know, so let me out of here! A deals a deal Captain, remember?”

Gretel snorted, “You’re a bilge rat, Impulse, and one I’d see hanging from the yard arm given the choice. But yes, a deal is a deal. I’ll let you out and arrange for you to be taken to a port.” She turned back and fixed him with a stared, “But let me tell you something, Impulse; if I see you again, I’ll use you for shark bait.”

Impulse quailed, his crewmates sniggering cruelly behind him.

“Come on Doc,” the red mare said calmly, “We have work to do.”

The two ponies headed back to the ship. Impulse could wait, Gretel thought to herself bitterly. Let him see what it was like wondering what was going to happen to you as you sat behind bars. She hated that pony, and yet in a sense she felt some remorse for him. Maybe he hadn’t always been that way. Perhaps being on a ship with the brutal Aeon had made him that way. She shook her mane and took a breath of the clean air outside. No, brutalised or not, it didn’t excuse his actions…not in the slightest.

“Doc, I want everypony given shore leave. Rapere has offered us full use of their beer hall and the crew have earned it, so let’s give them a night to remember.” She raised an eyebrow, fixing him with a knowing gaze, “All except the Wind Wraith’s slugs, and a skeleton crew to watch them. They still have cleaning to do.”

“The griffins have offered us guards to help keep an eye on them” Doc replied matter-of-factly.

Gretel nodded, “Good, then use them as well. You and I have a job to do tonight”

Doc held up a hoof, halting her, “Um…Captain, there’s something I wanted to ask.”

“Yes, Doc?”

The blue stallion suddenly blushed, “Its about Strata.”

“What about him?”

“I…I know it’s a little unorthodox,” Doc said bashfully, “but…I would like you to consider letting him stay on board, as a member of the crew.”

Gretel balked, “Strata? Celestia’s hairy arse, are you kidding me?”

Doc said nothing.

“You’re not are you?” Gretel sighed and shook her head, “What is it with all these bloody unicorns lately?” She thought for a while, letting the chill emptiness of the night air flow over her. She couldn’t really deny Doc’s request when she’d wanted the same for Chalk now could she? But that Strata…he was a blasted nuisance! And yet, he had proved useful, and may again some day. She shrugged,”Let me have a think about it, Doc. Please.”

“Thanks, Gretel, really” Doc smiled distantly.

“Sure.”

Leaving the Doctor to pass on the message to the crew, Gretel entered her cabin and took down a bottle of brandy from the rack. In the dimmed light from the lantern it still sparkled like liquid gold in its clear glass bottle. Many of the bottles she had were of cheaper green glass, but this, one of the very best from the northern tribes, was one of the best. She’d hoped that one day she’d be sharing it with somepony special, somepony who would be with her…forever. Gretel sighed and leaned on her desk. She wasn’t getting any younger, and most mares had already borne foals by her age. Still, she had a few good years left in to have children, didn’t she? Maybe…But then, she’d dared to dream hadn’t she? That white unicorn, the ‘bit of fun’ she’d wanted to help relieve her pent up stress, had affected her more than she’d thought possible and right when she’d made her mind up, he’d disappeared like a fart in a bubble bath. She snorted to herself and put the bottle back in the rack, pouring instead a glass of the harsher spirit she’d picked up from the market is Spurs Anvil. For a moment she paused; how much was she drinking lately? She could have sworn there were more bottles earlier. Gretel shook her mane irritably; it was just another thing she’d have to address later. Slugging it back, she slumped back in her chair and put her hind legs up on the table, leaning back with a sigh,

“Bloody stallions…”

Once she’d got the Revenge and the Wind Wraith ship shape, she’d see if she could find him. Maybe…maybe she could hire a few pegasi. Yes! Yes…that could work! Pouring another glass, Gretel could feel her mood lift slightly. She liked plans, and both Doc and Stock had the sort of practical mindset that could help her, but…what if he’d changed his mind? Maybe he’d found somepony else already? Maybe…maybe he’d been…

“Captain? The crew’s off ship, there’s just us two.” Doc leaned his hooves on the table, “Are you alright?”

Gretel leaped to her hooves, “Never better!” She trotted to the door and paused to take a breath of the fresh air flowing across the deck and all the sounds and smells of the night. She nodded to herself; some day, things would work out. All she had to do until then was stay the course, and keep herself focussed. Tonight, that focus was finding something that may give her a clue as to the traitorous cur who’d sold them out. A bitter taste to be sure, but necessary. Gretel looked over her shoulder at the blue stallion,

“Come on Doc, let’s get this over with.”

Below decks, the two of them headed straight for the crews quarters. Located in the forward end of the ship, each crewpony had their own bunk and locker, a luxury aboard many vessels but a tradition of the Revenge since before Gretels’ father’s time. It had a certain character all of its own down here, or maybe that was just the smell? Gretel’s nose wrinkled up…definitely the smell. Bathing was encouraged on board of course, but when that usually constituted little more than a bucket and a cloth, the crew’s odour could take on a life of its own, haunting the lower decks on hot days and assaulting the nasal passages of the unwary. Shipboard life certainly had its quirks, the Captain pondered, reaching the first of the bunks.

Doc opened the locker, “Captain, do you have any idea what we’re looking for?”

“Nope” Gretel replied, “But I think we’ll know it when we find it.”

Locker after locker, bunk after bunk, the quarters were searched, but their efforts unearthed little more than private stashes of a few coins, trinkets from shore and pictures that would make your mother blush - the usual sailor’s fare.

“Damn it.” Doc muttered, “Better see Chips about getting that board fixed, I nearly broke my leg there.” He shrugged and moved to the next bunk.

“Hang on…” Gretel moved him out of the way and peered at the loose board, “Chips bunks in here, she’d know about…” she trailed off, looking closer, “Here, give me a hoof with this.”

“Wait!” Docs head whipped round, “Buck it! Somepony’s coming.”

“Damn! Quick, behind the crates.”

Whoever it was, wasn’t particularly stealthy either, singing a drunken shanty about rigging, or at least something that sounded like it. Gretel kept close to the floor, daring to peek round as the newcomer staggered sideways into one of the bunks, laughing to themselves. Whoever it was stopped and peered around, lifting a hoof and making ‘shushing’ sounds while giggling drunkly. With a loud burp, the pony, leaned down, almost pitching muzzle first in the process. A lot of fumbling later, they found the loose board,

“Come to daddy, my beauty!”

Doc and Gretel rose as one from behind the packing crates. Before them, the brown and cream stallion was rummaging around behind the plank and pulled out a large brown hessian sack,

“Gotcha!” he said in triumph, “Time to…eh?”

Gretel rounded the corner of the bunk,

“Evening, Salty.”

“Agh! C…Cap’n!” The crewpony sputtered, “It b’aint what it look like!”

“And exactly how should it look, Salty?” Gretel asked, “Should we see?”

“No!” The old stallion snatched the sack away, but Doc was quicker and managed to grab it out of the sailors grip.

The brown and cream stallion lunged for the sack, succeeding in gripping it in his teeth as the two ponies began a brief tug of war. It didn’t last more than a few seconds until, with a soft tearing sound, the tortured material gave way and a shower of bits poured out onto the floor together with a large silver disk. Gretel’s eyes locked onto it immediately. She’d seen them before; it was a ships pass, each one bearing a stamped seal which was given to crew for when they went ashore on official business. Each pass was unique to the originating vessel, and this one…

She held it up to the light, where it gleamed and twinkled in the lamplight.

Salty stood in silence, Doc beside him as the three of them stared at the silver disc. It was crude, certainly not intended for decoration, but was a thing of singular purpose and functionality. The Captain shook her head sadly and closed her eyes. Salty had been one of her Dad’s crew, a pony whom she would have trusted her life with, a pony who was, in all actuality, too old to work the decks but kept on because he was…family. She lifted the pass, letting it dangle from her hoof as the three of them focussed on it. Gretel’s voice was soft, almost gentle,

“Why do you have a ships pass for the Wind Wraith?”

Salty licked his lips, trying to get his words out,

“Cap’n! I…Oh by the Goddesses, I don’t know! I ain’t never seen such a thing in all me…”

“-Don’t lie to me!” Gretel said loudly, “I’m trying to think of some reason why, Salty, why you would have this hidden by your bunk with a load of bits, but I can’t…I just can’t.” She looked up at him, “Tell me…”

“Please, Cap’n! I didn’t know that was there! I wasn’t…”

“Salty…” Gretel began, taking a deep breath, “You’re under arrest. Doc, throw him in the brig.”

The old crewpony stomped his hoof desperately,

“No! Damn it, Cap’n, I ain’t done nothing!”

“Mister Salt,” Gretel hissed, her hoof reaching for her sword, “If you don’t go with Doc now, I will cut you down where you stand. Now for the Goddess’s sake, do as I tell you while I still have control of my temper!”

Salty hung his head, his ears drooping, “Aye, aye, Cap’n”.

Gretel watched Doc take him away. Salty…Why? Of all the ponies she had on the crew, why him? Leaning against the wall, Gretel cast her mind back, back to when she was a foal, when dad was still alive. Salty had been there then; a middle aged stallion, his brown and cream patched coat making him stand out quite a bit from the rest, but he was a damned good helmspony. With Haggis still in training, Salty was the best there was, and Dad had trusted him emphatically. So much so, that he’d often left him in charge of his daughter when he needed somepony to keep the little one safe, especially after…she sighed…Pickles. Gretel couldn’t help but raise a sad smile at the memory of all of the old pony’s stories; the ones where he had been involved in some exciting duel or a battle against wyverns and dragons - they were amazing really, but now…now she didn’t…

Gretel’s eyes flew open. Wyverns?

With a neigh, she charged from the room and headed for the brig where she met Doc walking back to meet her,

“Doc, come with me…”

Dragging the startled looking blue stallion behind her, Gretel charged into her cabin and began grabbing bottles, glasses, and anything else she could use as a paperweight.

“Captain?” Doc asked in confusion.

Gretel clucked her tongue, running her hoof over the maps and chart until she found what she was looking for. Pulling the yellowed map free, she unrolled it on the table and weighted down the corners,

“Bring the lamp over here, Doc.”

The light from the lantern was just enough. With a jolt, she found what she was looking for and slammed her hoof on the map before walking off to the back of the cabin,

“Tell me what it says there, to north-east. Right in the north-east corner of the map.”

Doc leaned in, examining the map. It was old certainly, with a faint musty odour and had been drawn on vellum by the looks of it. Typically of maps this old, it was devoid of much of the information more modern versions held. In fact, great swathes of it had either simply been left blank or marked as ‘Unknown’ and there, sure enough in the top right corner as Gretel had said, below a picture of a snaking serpent was…

“‘Here be Wyvern’s’?” Doc scratched his muzzle, puzzled at the Captains question, “All that means is that the cartographer didn’t know what was there. Sometimes it’s sea monsters, sometimes dragons, it doesn’t matter really though because it’s all pretty much the same thing.”

“Is it?” Gretel asked, “Have you ever seen a Wyvern, Doc?”

“Not personally. They’re dragon-like snake things, aren’t they? I’ve heard them mentioned but mostly by those from the northern lands. Those yaks may know something if we need to know more about that part of the world, but I don’t see what that has to do with Salty.”

“You knew him before me, didn’t you?” Gretel asked.

Doc nodded, “Yes, he came aboard just before me.”

“But he was an old hoof then wasn’t he?”

“I think so,” Doc said furrowing his brow in thought, “he served other vessels before he came here. Some think he worked on the…oh, Gretel…the Wind Wraith? But that was years ago!”

Gretel shook her head, “No…not the Wind Wraith.”

“You’re going to have to help me with this one,” Doc said with a frown, “I haven’t got a clue where you’re going with it.”

Gretel smiled, “Then let’s go straight to the source.”

******************

The old cream and brown patched stallion sat sullenly in the brig, his short black mane was mostly grey now, his once bright blue eyes dulled from the lustre Gretel remembered as a filly. His ears were flopped down and his voice a mere mumble as she addressed him,

“Salty? I want to ask you some questions.”

“Aye…” he swallowed, “…Cap’n”

Even now, after all the years he’d been aboard, Gretel couldn’t help but still see the younger stallion whenever she saw him working. The neat, trim male with the winning smile and the one everypony on the crew looked to for advice and wisdom. Now, the stallion looked as if the world he knew and loved had ended, the pain in his heart as transparent as a glass bubble. The red coated Captain shook her mane angrily, but not at him…at herself…

“You were on my Dad’s crew, weren’t you.” She asked.

“Aye”

“You used to work sky galleons before you came to him, didn’t you.”

There was a pause.

“Salty, please,” Gretel pressed, “I need to know the truth.”

He didn’t look up, his mouth moving in a bare mumble,

“Aye”

Gretel leaned against the cell door, “What was the name of the ship you served on?”

Nothing.

“Salty!”

The old stallion’s ears twitched, “The Silver Hind.”

“Bollocks it was!” Gretel snapped, “I know Captain Ursa and she only ever sails the south western coast. Salty, for the goddess’s sake, for the sake of this ship and the love my father had for you, please…tell me the truth.”

“That b’aint fair!” Salty’s teary eyes looked up in distress, “Usin’ the late Capn’s name like that!”

“And you think my father would want to see his friend hang?” Gretel replied in a louder voice than she intended, “Because that’s what this is about, Salty; if you betrayed us and sold us out to Aeon and his thugs, you’ll swing.” Doc looked up suddenly, but Gretel hushed him, “Well?”

Salty’s face paled, his gaze becoming distant, as though he was staring into the past. Gretel stared at him in fascination, at the stallion she’d known all her life and saw more as a beloved uncle than a simple deck hoof. He was warring with himself, wanting to talk, but trying to hold back for some reason. Why? Was it loyalty to somepony? Was he protecting them?

Salty took a deep breath and shuddered it out.

“I don’t suppose it really matters now anyways.” He began, “I’m old, Cap’n, far too old to be of any use to the old girl.” He ran his hoof down the timbering on the wall, “We’ve had many a good year together, old lass. I always thought I’d live out me days on yer deck and leave nothin’ but happy memories for ye.”

Gretel watched in silence, her heart breaking as the old fellow spoke to the ship he’d spent so much of his life on. He turned back to the Captain,

“I don’t mind if ye needs ta know, Cap’n, I guess I’m tired of hidin’ the truth.” He sighed, “I served a sky galleon before I came to the Revenge, that much be true. But ye be right, it were’nt the Hind. It were…” his voice trailed off.

“…The Ravens Eye” Gretel finished for him.

Salty nodded.

“Hang on,” Doc chipped in, “The Ravens Eye is more legend that anything. We all know the story, Salty’s told it enough times! The whole unicorn thing and…oh…”

“Yes...” Gretel said levelly, “Interesting how he knew such a story. I’ve heard it told before, but never with such detail. In fact, you could say that the only way he’d know would be if he’d actually been there.”

The brown and white stallion nodded, “Heh…ye got me Cap’n.” he took a breath, “You want to hear me tale?” he chuckled, “I’ve got the time.”

“Another time, Salty. What I really want to know is,” Goddess she didn’t want to ask, but she had to know, she had to! “did you sell us out to the Wind Wraith?”

“No!” Salty spat, “I’d never do that! And the Revenge knows it too! I love her like...,” he coughed suddenly, “Ye never betray those ye love, Cap’n. Never!”

The vehemence in his voice, the certainty…either he was a very good actor or he was telling the truth. But it didn’t explain everything. Gretel leaned towards him, her eyes sparkling in the lamplight,

“Why was there a sackload of gold and a ships token from the Wind Wraith in your hiding place?”

“I don’t know! I ain’t never seen it before!” Salty said anxiously, suddenly a lot more animated than he had been, “I’d had a few at the bar, but I don’t likes that griffin plonk, it sets me arthritis off. So I…”

“Yes?”

Salty licked his lips nervously, “I came back for me own stash.”

“Your own stash?”

“Aye…me…that is…” He trailed off.

Gretel face hoofed, “Oh goddess…” Suddenly it all made sense…

Salty looked her right in the eyes, “I’m sorry, Capn’! I tried to get me own, but the trader said he’d sold the last few. I didn’t think ye’d miss one, so I…I kinda borrowed it. I was going to replace it! Honest I was.”

Doc sat on his haunches and looked Salty in the eye,

“Brandy? You stole a bottle of brandy from the Captains cabin?”

Salty hung his head, “Aye…”

“And the money?”

“I’ve no idea, Doc,” Salty replied, I keep me money with Pickles’ girls nice and safe. As much as I trust the Revenge, after what happened on the Raven…I guess I worry too much.”

Doc lifted up the bag of coins and token, examining it closely.

“Doc?” Gretel clopped him on the shoulder, “What are you thinking?”

“Maybe nothing…” he murmured, “But…” he turned to Salty, “Is this yours?”

“The bag?” Salty asked, “Never seen it before.”

“It’s not a bag.” Doc said quietly.

“Then what is it?” Gretel pushed in for a closer look.

Doc shook his head slowly, “It’s a sock, one of the one’s used for covering leg wounds. See how it’s stretchy?”

“Would you know if you were missing one?” Gretel asked curiously.

Doc shrugged, “I keep inventory, but I haven’t kept track of it lately. Not since we got here.”

Gretel felt her hopes sinking, “Any leg injuries?”

“Plenty.” Doc said, “At least eight of the crew had these on.”

“Blast it!” Gretel snapped, “Don’t you keep records, Doc?”

“Of course!” he replied irritably, “Normally I keep them up to date, but I haven’t exactly had much time free though recently, have I? What with fighting for our lives against the Wind Wraith and treating her crew as well as our own, I have been somewhat busy…Captain.”

Gretel cringed inwardly. Even to her it had sounded like a thoughtless remark, but she’d had to ask. “Well, at least it’s something to look at.” She said calmly, “I’m going to have a look around our old friend Aeon’s cabin and see what that turns up.”

“I’ll have a look at my records, Captain. As you say…” Doc furrowed his brow in thought, “Yes…there may be something I can check.”

“Let me know as soon as you can.” Gretel turned to Salty, “For now, I’m afraid I’ll have to keep you locked up. I’m sorry Salty, but we can’t let you speak to anypony while I get to the bottom of this, alright?”

The old stallion visibly relaxed, a relieved smile crossing his face,

“Aye, Cap’n.”

Walking towards the door, Gretel called back over her shoulder,

“Think of it as punishment for stealing the Captains brandy, Mister Salty.”

******************

Gretel climbed the gangplank up to the deck of the Wind Wraith. She doubted she’d ever feel comfortable on this vessel, and it wasn’t just because of the knowledge she had of the kind of trade this vessel had been involved with. No, it was something more ‘fundamental’ than that. The red coated mare ran her hooves along the ships railing, feeling the wood beneath, but nothing more than that. The familiar warmth, the sensation of, well, it was hard to describe really, but it was a sort of ‘warmth’ that flowed through her whenever she reached out to the Revenge. She’d felt the call of her vessel since foalhood, always wanting to be there with her, on her decks with the sun high above and the wind in the sails. To do or be anything other than what she was now, the Captain of that magnificent ship, was unthinkable. Being here though, aboard the Wind Wraith, now that was a different matter altogether.

She’d notice it earlier, when she’d first stepped aboard…the nothingness; no connection, no warmth, not even a cold rejection as she’d half expected, and yet Cyclone had. The mint green mare had been hit with a rogue wave of emotion beyond anything Gretel would have expected and, sounding callous perhaps, she was damned glad it wasn’t her. The tears in Cyclone’s eyes had told her all she’d needed, or wanted to know, about the ancient ship.

Gretel walked towards the Captains cabin, nodding to the crew who’d remained behind to guard the Wind Wraith’s crew. They’d been remarkable compliant since losing their Captain. Aeon was probably the glue that had held them together, the veritable ‘lash’ that kept them in check. She was under no misapprehensions about them though, there would have been some who’d taken cruel advantage of their captives, unleashing their most savage and brutal desires with wanton abandon in the darkness of the ships hold. But they were ones who could be weeded out later, for now, they were anxious to be on their best behaviour for the prospect of being kept on the crew under a new Captain. Speaking of which, she’d have to think of somepony for that job sooner rather than later.

The dark wooden door of Aeons’s old cabin creaked open ominously, sending a shiver down Gretel’s spine. She knew it was foolish really, the ship’s Captain was dead, and what remained of him had been smeared over the side of the Revenge. Thank the Goddess the griffins had dockside facilities here. The thought of flying away with ‘that’ on the other side of the hull made her skin crawl. Fortunately, her memory of that cruel stallion only lingered on as little more than a ghost in her mind…and why was she thinking about ghosts right now?!

Giving herself and shake, Gretel lifted her lantern and made a point of trotting around the cabin to turn up the oil lanterns. Unlike the Revenge, these were more regular oil fuelled ones. At some point in the past, the original, brighter ones from the Empire had more than likely been flogged for bits. Probably ending up in Pickles’ purse, Gretel thought snidely. She still couldn’t forgive that mare, not for…

“What the…?” Gretels’ leg kicked something in the darkness.

It groaned.

A pair of large eyes, glinting in the light of the cabin’s lanterns, stared up at her, like the empty cold eyes of the dead, rotting and bloated at the bottom of the sea’s depths.

Gretel screamed.

“Captain? Captain!” Cyclone and Stock lifted her carefully, wiping her forehead, “Are you alright? Captain Gretel!”

“Oh goddesses….” Gretel murmured, her mind reeling, “Those…those eyes!”

“Ah, yes…” The Bosun began, “Sorry, Captain. Stock and I were…”

“I don’t want to know!” Gretel snapped, pushing herself up to her hooves, “What you two do in dark cabins is none of my concern! Just…” She shook her mane, “Lock the door next time will you? I near had a bloody heart attack!”

Stock turned up the lanterns, allowing a warming yellow light to flood the room,

“It’s not what you’re thinking, Captain.” He rumbled in his typically gravelly voice, “Cyclone and I were…” he looked up at his marefriend for help.

“We were, um…’talking’ with the ship, Captain.” Cyclone explained coyly.

Gretel sat up on her haunches and closed her eyes, listening for something, anything from the vessel. She shook her head,

“I just can’t feel anything from her. Maybe it’s because of my connection with the Revenge, I don’t know.” She glanced at Stock, “So, if you weren’t…you know…why were you on the floor?”

Stock scrubbed his mane in apparent embarrassment, “To see if I can feel the Wind Wraith too, Captain.” He said awkwardly, “Through Cyclone’s connection to her.”

“I’ve never heard of that!” Gretel said in surprise, “Besides, all the crew feel something from the Revenge, take Mister Haggis for example. The way she responds to him is different to any other pony who’s ever taken the helm.”

Cyclone smiled at her, “Take my hoof…”

“No!” Gretel said snatching her hoof away, “I don’t want to feel what…that is…not this ship!” She shook her mane, angry with herself. She took a calming breath, “Cyclone, this ship’s seen hell, and I don’t want to experience that and pass it on to the Revenge. I don’t know how she’ll react if I do.”

“Wind’s not like that, Captain,” Cyclone said softly, “She’s gentle and kind. I’ve been speaking to her whenever I can, and she’s shown me so many wondrous things.” She nodded to herself, “Yes, she’s been frightened, and cruelly treated too, but I showed her my heart and my love for Stock, and now she’s met him she’s really opened up. She’s still a little nervous of course, and we have a long way to go until we really understand each other, but I think I can bring her the same level of happiness and love you have with the Revenge.”

Gretel blinked, unsure what to say to that. ‘The love she had with the Revenge’? Did she really love the old ship? Yes, yes of course she did, but Cyclone had connected with the Wind Wraith so quickly and was now even ‘conversing’ with her! A thought suddenly came to her…Good Goddess, was she actually jealous? She lifted her hoof nervously,

“Just for a moment though, Cyclone; If things get a little, um, ’weird’, I’m…”

The mint green mare nodded and reached out for her,

“-Don’t worry Captain, I understand. I was nervous at first as well, but come on, let’s go meet her.”

Cyclone’s hoof held Gretel’s, her touch firm, yet soft. Despite the pegasi’s confidence and encouragement, Gretel couldn’t rid herself of the nervousness that had lodged itself in her heart. Was it because of what she knew about the Wind Wraith’s past or was it because of Aeon, her late Captain? She closed her eyes, listening to her heart slowing, the gentle breathing of the mare opposite her. Gradually, slowly, she felt her consciousness slipping, moving to ‘somewhere else’, a place of darkness but also…warmth. Cyclone’s voice echoed slightly around her in that place, full of honesty, openness,

“Wind? I’ve brought a friend to meet you.”

There was nothing. No sound, no voice no…

I know you.

Gretel started, her heart leaping in her chest. She had to focus, concentrate, but the voice had been so strong, so alien it sent a shiver through her. In that world within, she took a breath,

“Hello Wind, my name is Gretel.”

You are the one bonded with my sister. Her Captain?

“Yes, I Captain the King Sombra’s Revenge.”

There was a pause.

I do not know this name, it is not the name of my sister.

“Was that not always her name?” Gretel asked in surprise.

No. She was not always known as this.

“What was her name?”

I…cannot recall. Such a long time ago, such a very long time.

The voice that was not a voice sounded distant, sad, lonely somehow. Gretel wanted to know more but was all too aware of just how fragile the ship felt around her. Inside her heart she could ‘feel’ her too, the same way she felt the Revenge. Gretel kept her voice calm, reassuring,

“Wind, my father was the Captain of your sister and his father was before him. I love the Revenge as my family did, but sadly, I cannot talk with her as we are now.”

She is incomplete.

Gretel blinked, “Incomplete?”

My sister was launched without her heart. My Captain told me she was to have her heart brought aboard to balance her soul, but then the end came. She is incomplete.

Gretel’s mind reeled. Incomplete? What did she mean by ‘the ship’s heart’? Or the ‘ship’s soul’ for that matter. She’d always believed the Revenge had a soul, metaphorically speaking of course, but after meeting Wind, it was becoming clear the difference between the two sky galleons was like that between an adult and a newborn foal. She had to know more,

“Wind, is there some way I could give her, her heart?”

Perhaps, I do not know. The Shipwrights made me, and they made my sisters. If you find a Shipwright they may know how such a thing can be done.

There was a long pause. Gretel urgently wanted to go back to her ship, to try and speak to the Revenge, to see what she could do to help her. A rising tide of anxiety and distress began to build within her which she desperately tried to subdue. She didn’t want the Windwraith to…

She loves you.

“She…” Gretel stammered.

She loves you. I felt it within her heart when we touched. Her love for you and your bond is strong.

A sensation of warmth and joy enveloped the red mare, making her skin prickle as a rush of sheer bliss rippled through her body from her muzzle to her tail. It was…ecstasy…

“Captain,” It was Cyclone’s voice, “I see now why you are so protective of the Revenge. Wind has shown me her heart, her world, and she has accepted me as her friend.”

The feeing of happiness grew, the sensation directed towards Cyclone now, enveloping her and making her shine like a torch in the blackness. Gretel knew then, as she’d suspected from the first time she’d seen her on the main deck, that the Wind Wraith had found her new Captain. The mint green mare, the crippled and scarred pony, had joined her heart with the equally scarred sky galleon. Thank the goddess that there was room for Stock in there too! Still, there was something she wanted to ask…

“Wind, do you know anything about a member of my crew who betrayed us? A message brought to your Captain? Aeon?”

The warmth suddenly and abruptly disappeared, replaced by a cold emptiness, a sense of simmering bitterness…

Betrayer! Lies, cruelty and pain…They were the coin of that pony, the one you called ‘Aeon’. He was no Captain, I would not accept him. He had no heart.

“And the crew?”

No…some I knew, some who were kind, but many were cruel. They did things inside me…

Cyclone voice was gentle and kind, “Wind, please don’t worry yourself, I’m here for you now. We will remove the chains and make you clean and happy once again.”

Her voice had a remarkably soothing effect upon the Wind Wraith. The sense of warmth was back again, presumably an indication of the ship’s emotional state.

Yes. I feel…cleaner now…free. I long for the skies, the wind in my sails and the clouds beneath my keel.

“Wind?” Gretel said quietly, “I understand that sky galleons choose their own Captain.”

Sometimes. Many are born of the Captains line, as were mine, but the one you called Aeon struck mine down and severed the line.

“Have you chosen?” Gretel asked.

Yes.

The feeling of warmth grew, enveloping Cyclone once more. The feeling of happiness, of sheer bliss, filled Gretel with just the backwash of what was being directed at the green mare. She felt like singing, like flying away on a tide of joy…

I have my Captain. I name her…Cyclone.

Gretel felt like laughing, her heart had never felt such freedom. Her body, ethereal or not, was alive with the vibrant colours of the purest light. Around her, a song, a song of joy and love, of a heart so pure and overflowing with the essence of the world it filled her eyes with tears that flowed like rivers.

And then, like the dawn breaking over the horizon, it ended…

The cabin’s interior was back. Gretel shook her mane and rose, rather unsteadily, over to the worried looking Cyclone,

“She has her Captain, Cyclone, and you have your ship.” Gretel leaned forward and kissed her friend on the forehead, “And your ships master,” she gave Stock a wink, “big guy.”

Cyclone stood up suddenly, “Wait! Captain, Gretel, I…I don’t want to leave the Revenge! She’s my home, and…”

“You have a new home now,” Gretel said with a tinge of sadness, “A new place for you and Stock, and home for any…” she raised an eyebrow, “shall we say, ‘new additions’?”

Stock turned beet red, “I…um, feel bad about this, Captain. You need us.”

“I’m not losing you,” the red mare chuckled, “you’re part of the fleet now, the Amethyst Fleet.” A shudder ran through the ship, one of happy expectation. Even Gretel, without Cyclone’s connection, recognised that feeling, “I think somepony else agrees too, well, some ‘ship’ anyway.”

The two ponies before her smiled at each other coyly. They didn’t seem totally convinced, but with time, they would come to understand their new home and all her quirks. The saddest part though, was that they would indeed be away from her ship and that meant she’d see less of them. Inside, she felt a tinge of jealously for the Wind Wraith, but also…love. Someday, she’d like Chalky to speak to the ship, her ship, and feel what she felt here tonight. With a soft sigh, she rose to her hooves and gave herself a shake.

“You know, there was something I came here to do.” Gretel said with a snort, “So, you two can give me a hoof. Come on, chop chop!”

Stock jumped up, helping Cyclone to her hooves, “Orders Captain?”

“I’m looking for a message, a small scroll,” Gretel stood up on her hind legs using her forehooves to indicate the size, “about this long. Its probably long gone, but judging by the state of this cabin, I was rather hoping Aeon would have just chucked it in a pile.”

“No harm in looking,” Cyclone said, “this place looked like animals lived in it. Believe it or not, this is tidy compared to what it was.”

“Somehow,” Gretel replied rolling her eyes, “I’m not surprised.”

Between them, they began their search, lifting what looked like years of accumulated junk, rubbish and fossilised remains of what had probably once been dinner. It was disgusting, and more than one unidentifiable ‘thing’ found its way out of the large windows before they were sick.

From the other side of the room, Stock cleared his throat, “Ah…er, Captain?”

Gretel’s ears pricked up, “What? Found something?” she asked hopefully.

“It wasn’t this was it?” Stock lifted up the burnt remains of a small scroll that stuck out of the corner of a large ashtray filled with cigar butts.

“Bring a lantern over” The Captain said waving a hoof.

Cyclone quickly appeared, carrying one of the cabin’s oil lamps with her while Gretel held up the burnt piece of paper. It looked like Aeon had been using it as a taper to light his cigars, but there were some words left that were still visible, including partial co-ordinates.

“That’s it!” Gretel cried excitedly.

“What? I don’t understand.” Cyclone said moving closer, “What’s it mean?”

“It means, my dear Captain, that I’m going to get to the bottom of something, and sooner rather than later to boot.” Gretel raised an eyebrow, “Tomorrow afternoon in fact. For now, you two carry on doing whatever it is you two do when I’m not around.” She trotted for the door, “Nighty night!”

Cyclone watched the Captain disappear with a mischievous grin on her face and shook her head,

“I can’t believe her sometimes”

“Nope.” Stock said slowly, “She’s quite something, eh, Captain.”

“Aye…” Cyclone said distantly. With a sudden jump, she lunged at the brown stallion, bearing him to the ground, “But first, Master Stock,” her eyes twinkled in the lamplight, “You have your new Captains orders to fulfil.” She grabbed his muzzle and kissed him, “And I expect them to be followed…to the letter”.

Stock smiled, reaching up to embrace his beloved mare,

“Aye, aye, Cap’n.”

*************************

“May the goddess bless ye, Cap’n!” Salty laughed, “I knew ye’d see old Salty were’nt lyin’!” The brown and white stallion all but bounced out of the brig, his ears pert and tail swishing happily.

“Oh, and Salty, catch!” Gretel tossed him a bottle of brandy, “It’s the good stuff, not that crap you’ve been swigging. Take it as an apology for doubting you.”

It was expensive, and the last full bottle she had. One she’d kept for emergencies.

Salty looked like he was going to cry, “Oh…Cap’n…I’ll treasure this, treasure it! Nopony’ll ever know, I swears I won’t tell ‘em.”

“No!” Gretel said urgently, “Good goddess, Salty, they’re your crewmates! You share that with them and you have a bloody good night with them. Go on, go and catch up with them now.”

“Aye, aye, Cap’n!”

The stallion bounced out of the brig and up the steps to the deck. Gretel watched him go and shook her head,

“He’s some pony all right.”

Doc raised an eyebrow, “I’ll say. I hope you know what you’re doing, Gretel.”

“Don’t you believe in anything Doc?” She asked.

“What, the goddesses?” Doc raised an eyebrow, “You think we’re going to have some sort of divine intervention?”

“No.” Gretel shook her head, “I mean ‘belief’ itself.” She grinned, “It’s all about belief.”

Doc shook his head, “Well, I guess we’ll see tomorrow afternoon then.”

“Aye. Goodnight Doc.”

“Night, Captain.”

*************************

The ship’s bell sounded, loud and clear in the midday sunshine. The Revenge stirred at anchor, a shiver running through her sails. She knew something was happening, the tension and curiosity of the bleary eyed and haggard looking crew on deck intrigued her. Upon the quarterdeck, her Captain stood beside her officers and addressed them all,

“All of you know that we were ambushed by that bilge rat Aeon, a despicable act which, by your courage and actions, helped us gain a new addition to our happy family.”

Gretel held her foreleg out, indicating the dark shape of the ship in the next dock. The crew raised a cheer, many of them patting each other and exchanging smiles and jokes.

“What you are probably wondering though, like me, was how they knew we were coming.” Gretel continued.

A chorus of muttering broke out which died away as the Captain waved her hooves for quiet,

“I know what you were thinking, that Hay Wain set us up, right?”

There was a general round of ‘Aye’s’ and nodding.

“No!” Gretel called out over the hubbub, “I have here a message sent to the Wind Wraith’s ‘former’ Captain,” She could’nt help but grin at that last part, “that came from this…very…ship.”

There was a pause, and then pandemonium broke out. The crew all started shouting at once, pushing each other and pointing, the general consensus it appeared, much to Gretel’s relief, was that nopony would have even contemplated such a traitorous act. They loved their ship, and their Captain. She smiled, she’d been worried that maybe, just maybe, she’d lost their trust.

“I’m please to say, that our new friend, Mister Strata here, will be able to help shed some light on this matter.” She turned to the indigo unicorn, “Mister Strata…?”

“Oh! Yes, um…thank you, Captain…” Strata trotted up to the balustrade and began fumbling in his pack for his notepad.

“I hope you’re not thinking about using magic, Mister Strata?” Gretel smiled ominously.

“Um, NO!” the indigo stallion choked, “Not at all!” he turned to the assembled crew, “Er, Captain Gretel has asked me to inspect this scroll. It’s quite a simple job really, by tracing the elemental divination currents, an invection of the primary…”

“-To the point, Mister Strata?”

“Oh! Sorry, Captain, yes…” Strata gave himself a shake, “What I mean to say, is that I’ll be able to tell who wrote this using…um…magic.”

“But NOT on my ship!” Gretel chipped in loudly.

That raised another chuckle from the crew.

“Of course not, no” Strata replied waving a hoof, “I’ve asked the griffins and they’re quite happy for me to use their facilities.”

The crew were all mumbling to themselves when the Captain leaned over the balustrade once more,

“What hurts me, and hurts this ship, as well as everypony aboard her, is that one of us has written this…” she held up the scroll, “And it’s only thanks to this pony,” she pointed to the embarrassed Strata, “that we will be able to unveil who it is.” Gretel hung her head down and sighed, “I am hoping that by this evening, the guilty party will have given themselves up and face me with what they have done. If not, we will find out anyway through Mister Strata’s magic and I assure you…I will NOT be lenient.” She banged her hoof, “Whoever you are, you have until two bells of the dog watch to see me in my cabin.”

Gretel nodded to Stock, “Dismiss them, Master Stock.”

“Aye, Captain.” He turned back to the crew, “You heard the Captain, get back to work boys and girls.”

There was definitely an undercurrent now. The loud and boisterous partying of the crew from the previous evening had been replaced with the very sobering prospect of having one of their number identified at a traitor. Gretel shook her head. This was painful and upsetting, as much for the crew as it was for her. They were all very close knit, as tended to happen onboard a ship, but this had to be done. Who knew what else such a pony would be capable of if left to go unchecked? Greed, she knew all too well, begot yet more greed.

Retiring to her cabin, Gretel settled in for a long wait. It was highly unlikely the culprit would own up, although there was still that slimmest of chances that they would. She groaned and leaned back in her chair, she didn’t need all this. Her mind began to drift back to her time with Chalk and the warmth of his coat against hers. His grooming had been something truly wonderful, and since he’d gone, she’d left it to go to rack and ruin. Lifting the tangled mess in her hoof, she sighed. Doing it yourself just didn’t feel the same.

Gretel closed her eyes and relaxed in the dull sunlight that drifted through her windows. Letting her mind open up to the Revenge, she listened to her, sensing her contentment as she dozed gently, rocking at her anchor. Maybe…maybe on day Gretel would find this ‘heart’ of the ship, but until then, it was so peaceful here, so quiet…

A loud banging brought her round with a start,

“Captain?”

She looked up as Doc opened the door,

“It’s time.”

Gretel glanced at the clock on the wall as the sound of the ship’s bell sounded. Dear Goddess, was it five o’clock already? She felt her heart sink slightly. So, they hadn’t had the balls to own up, eh? No, she’d known it all along. For this offence, for what they’d done, the crew would demand more than a flogging. She collected her sword and hat,

“Come on then Doc, let’s get this over with.”

*******************

Strata sat behind the small wooden desk and chewed the end of his quill thoughtfully. This wasn’t going quite as well as he’d thought. Of course, it was all that silly mare’s fault! Fancy giving him such a task to do when he was in the middle of important research! After all these years of painstaking, albeit enjoyable, delving into the fascinating world of the ancients, here was being tasked to perform something that was akin to a circus trick. What did she think he was? He was unicorn, not a trained seal! He leaned back and clopped his hooves together,

“Where’s me fish?” he muttered angrily to himself.

Still, this wasn’t proving to be as easy as he’d led the Captain to believe. The damage to the scroll was extensive and there was very little…oh! Hello, what was this? His magic tingled as it found what he was looking for - a residual ‘presence’ a kind of maghical hoofprint left by whoever had held the paper. There was Aeon’s, he recognised that one, but there was one other…yes, yes! That was it! He closed his eyes and concentrated, weaving the patterns together and bringing the image together in his mind…a little more and he’d have it…

The image of a brown stallion…no…a mare, yes…not quite brown…

“You can stop that now, unicorn.”

There was a faint click beside Strata’s head and he froze, not daring to move. The voice spoke again,

“I’m sorry for this…”

Strata jumped at the loud thump and the sound of a body crashing to the floor. It was different voice now,

“So am I…”

A red mare walked in, stepping over the crumpled form of a caramel coated mare. The Captain lowered the cudgel and shook her head sadly,

“Oh, Butters…why?”

“C…Captain!” Strata squeaked, “You…you set this up?! She was going to shoot me!”

Gretel shrugged, “Aye, she was. But I take it you’re still in one piece then, Mister Strata?”

Patting himself down, the indigo stallion nodded in relief, “I am!”

“Jolly good.” Gretel turned back to her downed crewpony, “Put that magic of yours to good use and help me with her, will you?”

Back at the Revenge, the crew had gathered once again, waiting unbidden for the Captains return. To hell with orders, this was something personal. This had been an attack on the ship, risking all of their lives. It was something that no sailor would ever tolerate and this had pushed them all to the brink of self control. Foremost amongst them was Mister Haggis and his friend and co-helmspony, the old stallion, Salty. They watched in deadly silence as the caramel coated mare walked up the gangplank in chains to stand before them. Her head hung down, her biscuit coloured mane hanging limp down her neck. She looked…defeated.

A table had been erected, with Master Stock, Gretel and Cyclone sitting in silence until quiet fell amongst the crew. Lanterns had been brought up on deck, casting shadows across the assembled ponies. It was strange to do something like this at night, but with the current mood of the crew, it was unlikely Butters would have still been alive come the morning. Stock was the first to stand,

“Palmyra Butters, you are charged with betraying this ship and all aboard her to a hostile vessel, and the attempted murder of a crewmate. You are permitted by ships articles to have a pony act on your behalf. Do wish to nominate one, or represent yourself?”

The mare shook her head slowly.

Doc stepped up to her, “Butters, we’ve served together for years on this ship. Will you let me speak in your defence?”

She nodded slowly.

Doc bobbed his head to the Captain, “If it pleases you Captain.”

Gretel nodded as Stock continued,

“How do you plead to these charges?”

Butters mumbled something to the Doc. He whispered back to her and then addressed the Captain,

“Guilty on all except the latter charge, Captain.”

The crew began to mumble, the sound reverberating through the deck and making Gretel’s mane shiver as she rose to her hooves and nodded to Stock,

“Butters, I will present to you the evidence as found so that all present may know that these proceedings are being conducted fairly and honestly.” She produced a notebook, “Master Stock, if I may?”

“Aye, Captain.”

“Hay Wain’s promise of payment,” Gretel held up the said scroll, “confirmed to be genuine by the griffins here. At first I asked myself whether Hay Wain had set us up, and I’m sure some of the crew here thought that too.”

There was a lot of nodding going on in the assembled crew.

“However,” Gretel continued, “I had to ask why he would do that. Why risk his reputation, and for what? What had he to gain by it? A share in the sale of the Revenge if she was captured by the Wind Wraith? No, it didn’t make sense to me. Next, I had to ask myself if the griffins here on the island had some involvement, but once again, I discounted that. If they had been complicit, it made no sense for Aeon to kidnap Lord Rapere’s daughter.”

“Second exhibit.” Gretel held up the small burnt scroll, “This scroll bears the co-ordinates of this island. It’s badly damaged but there’s enough of the message left to show that somepony was telling the Wind Wraith where to find us. Considering the time it would take for such a message to travel from Spurs Anvil to the Wind Wraith, it could only have been done by a fast pegasus, and Spurs Anvil does indeed have a Pegasus courier post. If need be, I’m certain a check on this could be made.” She took a sip of water, “Next, I spoke to our old friend, Mister Impulse, former Ships Master of the Wind Wraith who told me of the existence of this scroll. It was later found in the late Captain Aeon’s cabin. I have two witnesses who can testify to this effect.”

Gretel took a breath, “Third exhibit.” She held up a long brown tube like thing, “A hoof sock, used for protection of injured legs and hooves. All new ones are accounted for, but this is an old one, thrown out, or so Doc believed, by a pony helping to clear out old items some time ago. This was used to try and frame Mister Salty for the crime by stuffing it full of money and a pass for the Wind Wraith, then placing it in Mister Salty’s hiding place.” She turned to Butters, “A place you knew he was hiding the bottle of brandy he’d stolen from my cabin.”

Salty cringed back, while Mister Haggis rolled his eyes in exasperation. Gretel had the feeling Mister Haggis knew a lot more about his friends drinking habits than he’d let on.

“I believe you knew full well,” Gretel continued, “that we would be searching the crews’ quarters and planted this for us to find.” She held up the silver coin with a picture of the Wind Wraith stamped into it, “I believe this is your pass, Butters?”

Butters nodded.

“Finally, when you found out that Mister Strata was going to use magic to reveal the culprit, you realised the game was up and attempted to shoot Mister Strata to silence him.”

Butters muttered something to Doc.

“If it pleases you, Captain?”

Gretel nodded and then sat down,

“Please continue, Doctor”, Stock said, holding out his hoof.

Doc went to speak but Butters suddenly moved forward, pushing him out of the way,

“You want to know why, don’t you? I can see it in your eyes, all of you!” Butters’ brown eyes flashed, “For money…that’s right, it was all for bits! A share in the prize money, enough for me to get off this stinking flea pit and have a life, a proper life, on shore where I could life a comfortable life without living like a damned rat in a cage!”

The crew looked on in shock, but slowly, that was beginning to change to one of anger. Cyclone stepped forward, shaking her head at them. If nopony else, they would take note of her. Butters continued,

“Yes, I was a member of the Wind Wraith’s crew. I was told to infiltrate the Revenge and pass on information to Aeon about your whereabouts and movements so he could track you down. But over time, I began to fall under the influence of this blasted tub and I thought, actually thought, that I was happy here! What a bloody fool I was! And then…then, my eyes were opened.” She glared at Gretel, “Do you know how, Captain? By YOU! You and that lousy stinking white unicorn! We all knew you were banging the bloody thing like there was no tomorrow, throwing your own precious ships rules out with the bilge water! And then…then, you had the audacity to have your own Bosun flogged for doing the right thing and getting rid of that damned creature.” She sneered, addressing the crew, “But wait…what happened next? That’s right! She brings aboard ANOTHER UNICORN!” Butters shook her head, “Can’t you see, Captain, its not me, you’re destroying your own ship, your own crew…” She held out a hoof, pointing at Strata, “There, there stands your real enemy, the horned freak himself!”

Strata turned white in shock as the crew began to shout and roar angrily. This looked like it was going to turn very ugly, very fast, but thank the goddess that Cyclone acted first. In a flurry of movement, she pulled off her coat, revealing her broken and useless wings,

“SILENCE!” she bellowed, “The Captain is not on trial here! If anypony had a grievance with her, it would be me! But I was wrong. I took my punishment and can now look any one of you in the face knowing that I did my duty to you, my Captain and my ship. Did the Captain bring a unicorn aboard? Yes. Did any of you object? NO! You all sat around drinking with him! You could have spoken to the Captain, as I could have, but instead you accepted him as one of your own. Butters and I could have spoken out, we could have said something, but we didn’t. The Captain has told all of us that she is not above the law on this vessel. Maybe all of us should remember that, that we are all brothers and sisters. We are all family.”

Silence fell.

Butters lifted her head, “So why didn’t you say something, Bosun?” she shook her head slowly, “I’ll tell you why, because you were frightened of how she would react! I know I was, that’s why I did it. ‘My door is always open’, what a load of dung! She was bedding the bloody thing; do you think she would have listened?”

Gretel slammed her hoof on the table, her face glowing scarlet, “You didn’t give me a chance, Butters, did you? But even if you were right, even if I didn’t listen to you, do you think that excuses selling out your crewmates, the ship, setting up Salty to take the fall for you and attempted murder?”

“It’s not murder if it’s a unicorn!” Butters yelled suddenly, stepping forward angrily, “They’re all the same! It’s not natural to use magic, that’s the domain of the princesses and the gods. Nopony should be able to use that! They’re freaks of nature! They’re evil!”

One of the crew suddenly spoke up, “My cousins a unicorn, she makes cakes for market. She’s not evil.”

“Does she make good cakes?” Somepony called out.

“Nah, they taste like crap.”

“Maybe she is evil then!”

Laughing suddenly broke out amongst the crew.

“You’re not listening!” Butters shrieked, “Look at it! It looks like us, but it’s not one of us! It’s a monster!”

Without speaking, and much to the surprise of the Captain, Strata walked up to Butters, keeping his face neutral. The caramel mare suddenly backed away from him in fear.

“Touch it.” He said quietly.

Butters’ eyes went wide, “Wh…What?!”

“Touch my horn.”

Salty sniggered, setting off Haggis next to him. In seconds, the deck was full of laughing equines as an equally grinning Stock, hammered on the table to try and restore order. Only Butters was silent, staring in terror at the unicorn before her. She glanced at Doc, then Gretel, Stock and back to Doc who nodded to her,

“It doesn’t hurt, go ahead.”

Cyclone managed to shush the crew who were now pressing in, eager to see what would happen next. Everypony held their breath except Butters whose chest was rising and falling as if she were on the verge of abject panic. Gretel could feel her own heart beginning to pound as the frightened mare before her slowly and shakily reached out her hoof and, inch by painful inch, lifted it higher and higher. Butters was shaking like a leaf as Strata, leaning forward to help her, let her hoof touch his horn. She opened an eye gradually, gasping in shock as the ethereal glow of magic grew, flowing around Strata’s spiral horn, around her hoof, and travelled up her leg. The caramel coated mare suddenly groaned loudly, her eyes rolling up into her head as she quivered. Gretel stared in amazement, but not at the magic, but…her face!

Butters’ gasps and moans sounded across the deck as her chest rose and fell faster and faster, her cheeks blushing bright red. With a sudden twitch and a squeal, her hind legs gave way and she collapsed to the deck, writhing, drool pouring from her muzzle. Doc looked on in horror,

“Strata…oh Goddesses, what have you done to her?”

“Oh, nothing” The indigo unicorn said nonchalantly, “Not all my books are about facts and figures you know.”

Gretel got up and walked over to the unicorn,

“You and I are going to have a little talk later, Mister Strata. Yes?”

Strata gave a tiny squeak and jumped back, nodding furiously. Gretel shook her head in submission. There was something strange about that stallion…

Stock shouted for order as the crew began chattering loudly all at once, some of them casting strange looks at Strata and then glancing back to a still twitching Butters. They weren’t looks of fear, as he may have expected, but ones of…dear Goddesses, was that one…was she licking her lips?!

Stock hammered on the table top, clearing his throat, “Order! Order! Please, everypony, can we have some semblance of order for ships court proceedings?” The brown stallion stood as every eye, except the shaking Butters who was being helped to her hooves by Doc, turned to him. “Butters, by your own admission, you are guilty of the charges.” He addressed Doc, “Does the defendant have anything else to say in her defense?”

Doc spoke quietly to the mare, nodding occasionally, then addressed Stock,

“Ahem…the defendant states that she was wrong and it was all a misunderstanding. She, er, she has changed her mind about unicorns…apparently.”

More chuckling broke out from the crew as Stock stood,

“Butters, the court recognises that you did what you did partly for personal profit, but also out of fear of the unknown. It may go some way to explain your actions, but does not excuse what you did. You spied for a hostile vessel, endangered this crew, this ship, tried to frame a crewmate for a crime he did not commit, and attempted to murder…Strata.”

Butters hung her head, but still had the ghost of a smile on her face.

Stock turned to Gretel, “Captain?”

Gretel stood, “Stallions and Mares of the Revenge. You must know that by ships regulations, the sentence for crimes of this nature is death by hanging.”

Suddenly, the hilarity of the moment changed, the ponies before her falling silent.

“However, considering all of the aforementioned evidence, I have decided to ask you, the crew what you would do with her. Therefore, I will leave you together to consider this and…”

“Captain?”

Gretel looked round at the brown and white stallion with the silver mane,

“May I speak?”

She nodded, “Aye, Salty.”

“I…I think I speak for all me crewmates, when I says none us wants the girl ta be hanged, it b’aint right. Not for her, nor the Revenge.” Salty began as there was a chorus of agreement behind him, “I don’t thinks she’s rightly happy ‘ere, so, maybe we could just, y’know sends ‘er on ‘er way.”

“Send her on her way?” Gretel echoed.

“Aye.”

“What, like just, let her go?”

“Aye”

The Captain addressed the crew, “Anypony else want to have their say?”

There was silence. Gretel nodded slowly, looking to her officers. All of them had the same expression - they agreed with the old hoof in this. The Captain laughed and shook her head,

“What about you, Butters?”

“M…Me…?” the mare stammered, “I…I want to go home…”

“Well,” Gretel smiled, “I guess that concludes these proceedings. Mister Haggis, find out where Miss Butters lives and when we leave dock, we’ll take her home. As for the rest of you scurvy dogs, get your lazy hides back to work or I’ll flog the bloody lot of you!”

The crew began cheering and hurried off to work, with Cyclone and Stock barking orders and getting the vessel ready for the night. Maybe, Gretel noted sadly, for the last time. She’d have to arrange for new officers and sort out the wheat from the chaff with the Wind Wraith’s crew. Good Goddess, the work was never ending!

“A favourable end, Captain?” Doc asked, walking up beside her.

Gretel shook her head, “I can’t think of a better one right now, Doc, can you?”

“No,” Doc shook his head, “no I can’t.”

Gretel began walking back to her cabin, “I didn’t want to see her hang, Doc, and I sure as hell didn’t want the Revenge to experience that either. There’s enough horror in this world without adding to it.”

“And Strata?” he asked.

“Send him to see me. I want a talk with him.” Gretel caught the look he gave her and bopped him on the nose, “And stop worrying! You’re going to go grey doing that all the time.”

Doc huffed and set off to find his friend.

Gretel didn’t have to wait long before the indigo stallion knocked on the door to her cabin. With a bow, he entered and closed the door behind himself.

The Captain waved a hoof, “Take a seat Mister Strata.”

Trotting over to the drinks rack, Gretel instinctively reached for the green glass bottle and paused, shaking her head to herself. No, this time she’d use the decent brandy, not like she had much left after giving Salty a whole bottle…A whole bottle! Mind you, if the old soak hadn’t blabbered to everypony in the bar about them ‘getting close’ to the ‘real culprit’ their little charade with Strata may not have worked out as well as it did. Pouring out two glasses, she passed one to the unusually calm unicorn,

“You’re a pony of many surprises, Strata” Gretel said sitting back in her own chair, “That little spectacle with Butters was quite something.”

He nodded.

“You used magic though, didn’t you.” Gretel said matter of factly.

Again, he nodded.

“No excuse?”

Strata smiled, “No, only that it got results. I’ve had to deal with prejudiced ponies before. Spurs Anvil was full of them.”

He was right there. The port tended to be predominantly populated by earth ponies, and not even pegasi frequented them that much due to…well, tradition probably. Cyclone was a pegasus, but she’d been welcomed aboard with her broken wings as a sort of ‘honorary’ earth pony. Pickles lived at Spurs Anvil and she was a unicorn and…well, she ran an establishment that was more ‘fluid’ in who it dealt with. There were numerous griffins of course, but they tended to be discounted as ‘non-ponies’ and more of a background noise than actual living beings. The more Gretel thought about it all, the more ridiculous it sounded even to her. She eyed the indigo pony up and down. He really was an enigma this fellow,

“You know I could have you flogged then thrown off the ship, don’t you.”

Strata shrugged, “I couldn’t stop you Captain.”

“Who are you?” She asked inquisitively, “Really. I mean, a unicorn living in a port that nopony seems to realise is there? You just ‘happen’ to come across the only other unicorn in the whole of Spurs Anvil and help him on his way with the aid of a few priceless antiques. I don’t believe for a minute, Mister Strata, if that is indeed your real name, that you are just a simple scholar.”

Strata smiled, his eyes catching the light making them sparkle like gems,

“I’m just a traveller, Captain, no more than that. Please, be assured that I haven’t lied to you, nor anypony for that matter.”

Gretel shook her head, “No, you haven’t lied, I can see that.” She paused, “But I don’t believe you’ve exactly told me everything either.”

“Don’t you have secrets, Captain?” Strata asked, “One’s you’d not share even with the one you love?”

“That’s none of your…” She took a breath, “Look, just…promise me something, Strata.”

“Certainly Captain.”

She looked down at her brandy, turning the glass slowly with her hoof,

“Don’t hurt Doc…please.”

Strata shook his head with a distant smile, “You don’t need to worry. I’d never hurt him.”

“Will you be staying aboard?” Gretel asked.

“For now, if that’s permissible,” the unicorn replied calmly, “until I have to return home.”

“Spurs Anvil?”

Strata nodded happily, “Oh, yes! My life’s work’s there.”

“And nopony knows its there?”

He grinned, giving the Captain a wink, “Magic.”

“Speaking of which, you know something about this whole ‘magic on ships’ thing, don’t you.” Gretel took a mouthful of her brandy and topped up the glass.

“Mmhmm,” Strata sighed, “It’s like many of the old stories: the fables, myths and legends. All of them have some grain of truth in them somewhere, no matter how insignificant. The Crystal Empire itself is believed by many to be no more than a foals fairy story. You and I are sitting inside evidence of its existence right now, but in one hundred years, a thousand years, will ponies still believe such a place existed?” He laughed and took a sip of brandy, “No, I doubt it. As for your ‘magic on ships’ dilemma, I ask you this: Did the ship sink because Chalky was on board? Has it sunk because I’m here? The answer is clearly no.” He raised an eyebrow, “And yet, this story exists, why? The answer is closer than you think.”

“Can we stop being cryptic please, and get to the point?” Gretel sighed, “The whole ‘mystical power of the unicorn’ thing is getting very old, very fast.

Strata chuckled, “Aw! I was enjoying myself there!”

“Well don’t!” The Captain snapped, “Or I really will chuck you over the side.”

Strata raised a hoof, “Alright! I’m sorry.” He took a breath and then fixed her with his big eyes, “Ask Salty, when the crew are together tonight. Ask him for the true story of the Ravens Eye. You’ll know then.”

Gretel groaned and shook her head, “You can’t help it can you? What is it, some sort of unicorn thing?”

“Meh, maybe…” Strata laughed, “It pays the rent.”

Gretel clucked her tongue, “One more thing, what do you know about the ship’s heart?”

“Oh! A fascinating story!”

“Please,” Gretel held up a hoof, “just…to the point, yes?”

“Fine…” Strata rolled his eyes, “Doc listens to my stories…” he muttered quietly.

“What’s that?” Gretel fixed him with a stare.

“Nothing! Just thinking out loud, getting my facts in order, you know the drill!” Strata coughed nervously, “Right, the ship’s heart…” he scratched his chin, “I’m working from memory here, but I can tell you this much. The ship’s heart is part of who she is, along with her soul. The heart was, from what I can decipher, a type of crystal, imbued with the life force of a willing donor that would live, effectively, forever as the ‘heart of the ship’.” He gave his muzzle a scratch as he thought, “Hmm, yes, the er, the ‘soul’ for want of a better word, is what happens over time, when the ship absorbs the memories and experiences of the Captain and crew. Rather like you and I developing our own personality as we grow.”

“So what would happen if a ship had no heart?” Gretel asked.

“I can’t imagine why it wouldn’t” Strata replied curiously.

Gretel leaned her chin on her forehooves, “Humour me.”

Strata shrugged, “Who can say. I’d imagine the ship would be like a mute, able to experience and feel, but not truly able to communicate with their Captain. That’s my best guess based on what I’ve read.”

“Would it be possible to find one of the crystals, or make one?” Gretel asked.

Strata shook his head, “Not unless you have some way to bring back the Empire. It was the whole ‘heart’ thing that brought it down in the first place.”

The Captain furrowed her brow, “What? What do you mean?”

“The Empire was under attack,” Strata explained, “besieged by forces that were slowly but surely forcing them back. The Amethyst Fleet was their hope of salvation: able fly high, move quickly and strike the enemy where they least expected it. The problem was…the ‘heart of the ship’.”

“And that was?”

Strata lowered his voice to a near whisper,

“Living ponies.”

Gretel felt suddenly sick, “You can’t mean…the crystal was made through…”

“Sacrifice?” Strata shrugged, but he was clearly enjoying telling the story despite Gretel’s horror at what she was hearing, “Not at first, no. It was considered an honour to be selected and then gifted eternal life. But later, as war began to consume them, attitudes changed and the ponies started to turn against their rulers who were failing to protect them from the encroaching darkness.” Strata’s face darkened, “The Shipwrights and even the King himself began taking ponies against their will, forcing them to…”

“Enough!” Gretel coughed, “By the Goddess, Strata…enough.” She took a swig of her brandy and got to her hooves, “I can’t imagine anything so…so evil.”

“And so our story ends.” Strata said rising to his hooves, “You know the rest.”

“That Celestia and Luna fought the King and banished the Empire?” Gretel muttered.

Strata shrugged, “I believe that is the simplified version, yes.”

“There’s more?”

The enigmatic unicorn chuckled, “There’s always more! The victors write the history books, Captain, and you will only ever learn what they want you to know. Should you wish to know the truth, the nearest you will get to it is speaking to somepony who was actually there and experienced it first hoof.” He shrugged, “And even then, you will still get bias…ah, the never ending search for truth.”

“A truth we will never know.” Gretel sighed.

“Perhaps,” Strata said chuckling, “but the search goes on! Now, forgive me Captain, but unicorns have weak bladders you know, not like you big strong earthy lot!”

He was still chuckling when he left. The Captain shook her head in dismay and returned to her chair. What a peculiar creature he was…

**************************

Evening came all too early and the crew were living it up below decks, leaving only a small contingent on the deck as watch. Lord Rapere had sent word that he had a consignment of the ‘most exquisite rugs and tapestries’ that had been delivered and would pay the Captain ‘most handsomely’ to deliver them. The message was clear…it was time to leave. Still, all repairs had been completed, the Wind Wraith smelled…better…and the crew selections had been completed, with a little help from Doc and the Wind Wraith herself. Now that was interesting!

The forward end however, as a result of the increased number of ponies, was absolutely heaving with happy revellers and the poor bar staff had been forced to enlist help to keep the alcohol flowing. At the centre of it all was a whirling, dancing, attempt at something that resembled a jig; although in actual fact it was more a group of alcohol soaked ponies throwing themselves in random directions while the ‘band’ creaked and groaned out the most dreadful attempt at music Gretel had ever heard.

“Evenin’, Cap’n!” Salty shouted, all but collapsing into her, “What can old Salty get yer?”

“Rum for a change,” Gretel replied loudly over the din, “and wheat bears for everypony!”

A rousing blast of cheers echoed around the room,

“Three cheers for Cap’n Gretel and the Amethyst Fleet!”

Gretel smiled broadly as the crew cheered her. Moving to the centre of the mass, she stood on her hind legs and waved her forelegs for quiet,

“Ladies and Gentlecolts…” That got a laugh, “Boys and girls, we’ve sailed many a fine sky together, weathered many a storm…” More cheering, “but there is one pony here, who weathered them all…” She held out a hoof, “SALTY!”

The old sailor was pushed into the middle of the mass and smiled broadly.

“Tonight,” Gretel announced, “I want to celebrate the bringing together of two sky galleons, the first time since the Crystal Empire vanished into the beyond. And to help us celebrate, I want to hear the story of another galleon, the last voyage of the Ravens Eye!”

Some cheered, but others gave a loud groan at the prospect of yet another rendition.

“Wait, Wait!” Gretel laughed, “This time, the story will be different.” Salty’s eyes went wide as his Captain smiled at him, “To help welcome Mister Strata to our happy band, this time, I want to know what really happened and what a unicorn had to do with the loss of such a magnificent vessel.”

Salty looked like he’d seen a ghost, all the colour draining from his face.

Gretel leaned over to him, whispering, “Two bottles of the best Yak liquor”.

“A crate!” he squeaked.

“Done!” Gretel clopped him on the shoulder conspiratorially, “But the truth, Salty. Any ‘tall tales’ and the unicorn over there will know. Understand?”

Strata gave a wave from the other side of the room.

Salty gulped, “Aye, aye, Cap’n.”

“Oh!” Gretel shouted, “I nearly forgot! Free bar tonight, but only if you promise to keep quiet during the tale. Agreed?”

“Aye…”

Gretel shook her head, “I didn’t hear you…AGREED?”

“AYE!”

Drinks liberally distributed and the maybe not so willing audience sitting watching the definitely not so willing story teller, Gretel settled down to listen as Salty began…

Comments

[That One Brony Dude]

I do have to wonder... what in the name of Celestia's glorious arse made Strada think that giving Butters (what I assume to be) an orgasm in public? I don't care if you have magical abilities (literally or figuratively) or not, you don't just start rubbing somepony out of the blue, especially somepony you don't know, especially in front of a bunch of other ponies. I think the material he's reading might have given him a very... fictitious sense of what is right verses what is wrong.