The Maid

by Dinkledash

Chapter 11

The cabin colt leaned out on the rail, his nostrils flaring as the wind freshened. Silently he turned to watch the Captain, a stout, drab earth pony with a jagged scar across his forehead, looked to the east over the same rail. He's gonna take in a reef, I bet!

The grizzled Sailing Master sidled up. "Wind's freshening, Captain. Shall we take in a reef?"

I knew it!

The Captain was silent, still looking eastward. "What do you see out there?"

"Squall line, Cap'n"

"Aye, but what else?"

The Sailing Master squinted, then raised his eyeglass, scanning the horizon. He gasped and turned to the Captain.

"A mountain of cloud to the south, just over the horizon. A big blow!"

"Aye, that it is."

"But them big blows come from the west, Captain! The wind comes up warm from the south!"

"Aye, but no ship we know of has ever been this far west before..."

from "Sea Spray and Cold Iron," by Springheart

Her Highness' Brig Aurora rolled in the gentle swell. At least a typhoon would clear up this pea soup the officer of the watch, Second Lieutenant Ambertail thought sourly as she ran her hoof across a shaggy mane stiff with salt, then jammed her bicorn hat down on her head. She blinked, trying not to yawn as she heard the bell strike six times. Another hour of this. I need some coffee!

She turned to order one of the sailors to fetch her a cup when a voice rang above the maintop. "Sail ho! On the port quarter!" Ambertail's neck whiplashed around and she ran the port rail on the a quarterdeck, the high deck at the rear of the ship, her eyes vainly trying to pierce the mist.

"What ship!?" she called out, to the pegasus flying watch above.

"Don't know m'arm!" A thick northern accent rolled down from above. "Celestia's tits! She's big!"

Coming from that quarter, she's probably Prench, out of Sainte-Marie-du-Mount. "Beat to quarters!" We're not at war, not officially, but the damned Directorate murders foals who are related to so-called enemies of the state. Better safe than sorry.

There was a roaring from belowdecks as ponies rolled out of their hammocks and galloped up the ladders to their action stations on deck. Captain Scuppernong walked up the portside quarterdeck ladder, really a stair from the main deck to the quarterdeck, to join Ambertail, peering into the murk. "What is it, Mistress Ambertail?" growled the old, grizzled unicorn, jamming his forelegs into his greatcoat, then brushing the crumbs of his breakfast from his ruffled shirt.

"Don't know, Captain, but air patrol reports a sail to our port quarter. A big bastard, probably Prench I should think." The captain nodded, then looked down to the quarterdeck where his other officers were assembling.

"Major Windshriek, I would be gratified if you could get the wing up and ascertain what we're dealing with here. And clear out some of this mist, if possible, if you would be so kind."

The roan pegasus mare bellowed, "Aye aye, Captain! Wing, aloft!" With that, she and a half dozen other scarlet-coated pegasi jumped off the deck and soared up through the open spaces between masts, sails and rigging.

"Mister Gray!" The first lieutenant appeared next to the Captain with a pop as he teleported the short distance. Show off, groused Ambertail to himself. "Be so kind as to clear for action. Second reef for the mains and topsails, keep the topgallants and royals in, please, but be ready to make full on my order."

"Aye aye, Captain!" The white stallion vanished with a flash and reappeared on the maindeck, bellowing for the sailing master and bosuns.

"Mistress Ambertail, thank you for beating to quarters, you were quite correct." The earth mare smiled slightly and nodded at the compliment. "I would appreciate it if you could have the works up portside and the archers standing by, and get the bomb crews aloft."

Ambertail snapped "Aye aye, Captain!" then galloped toward her section leaders who were standing at attention amidships. "Archers! Odd numbered sections, raise the port bulwarks! Even numbers, prepare braziers, buckets and barrels! Then ready bows and stand by! Marksponies to the crow's nest! Match ponies, get the bomb baskets aloft!"

Eighteen archers dashed to the main hold to form a line, and began passing sections of planking and dowels up, to be fitted into slots and holes behind the port railing, while another eighteen did the same with the forehold, bringing small bronze braziers, buckets with lines with which to fetch water, and barrels filled with arrows, wrapped with linen cloth, soaked in pitch. The water buckets were heaved into the sea, and drawn up to fill tubs that were built into the decking, while the braziers were filled with coals and the barrels of arrows were placed next to them, behind the growing wooden walls with ironbound holes that served as arrow loops. Six archers with longbows and quivers, the best shots from each section, climbed the foremast and mainmast towards the large iron-bound baskets at the top of the topgallant yards.

The second lieutenant frowned as she glanced down at the maindeck. One of her midshipponies, an unfortunately frog-green filly, was giving incorrect orders to her section, the third. "Mistress Lillypad, avast! The aftersidebulkwark won't lock down if you place the afterbroadbulkwark assembly in place first! Remember your drills!" Ambertail's voice held a hostile growl, though in her heart she felt for the little earth pony, who was only three months at sea and scarce more than a foal. Still, the sea ate the foalish for breakfast, and she'd not live to grow up if she was mollycoddled. "Another cock-up like that and you'll be kissing the Quartermaster's daughter!"

The threat of the ship's Master-at-Arms bending her over a barrel of hardtack and caning her, or worse, giving her the bimmy, caused the color to drain from the already humiliated filly's face, rendering her a miserable chartreuse. "Aye aye ma'am! Sorry ma'am!" she croaked, then paused to remember her bulwark evolutions, before continuing to give the correct orders needed to assemble the midship works in port configuration.

She glanced fore and aft and saw the other two works going up smoothly, pausing to check her watch. Five minutes... we'll be done in eight, perhaps nine because of Lillypad, but not bad. Not bad at all. She hid a small, satisfied smile, then cast her gaze aloft where baskets carrying small incendiary bombs were being winched to the topgallant stays. There, brave matchponies waited with burning slowmatches held in their mouths, ready to cut and light fuses and hand the bombs off to pegasi at the start of their bombing runs. With training and experience, a team could manage a bomb at 200 yards every two minutes. Assuming the fuse was cut properly. And the pegasus wasn't intercepted by a skylancer, or shot by enemy archers in a crow's nest. She shuddered, happy not to be a naval aviator, and not for the first time.

Major Windshriek, really a captain in the air service but given a courtesy promotion to major since there cannot be two captains on a ship, thumped down on the deck next to Scuppernong and saluted smartly. "Captain, she's a three master at least 20 yards longer than we are, making about eight knots southwest by south. There must be a dozen pegasi keeping the mist thick on the deck around her. All I could see were her royals, and they're the size of our topsails. I don't think we've been spotted but there's no way we'll thin that mist without risking a fight. It'll burn off in a few hours when the sun gets up."

Scuppernong sucked in air through his teeth, then took a pipe from his greatcoat and started to pack it with a certain nonchalance. "Very well. Mister Gray! Come about to southwest by south and reef out the topgallants!" Ambertail's ear twitched under her hat as it would do when she was worried; she was worried because the Captain was worried. If we were at war, running would be cowardice, but if we are not at war, a collision would be a disaster for the smaller ship, and last we heard, we were at peace.

Still, with topgallants out she'd be making better than eight knots in this light breeze, and the mist would burn off soon enough, despite the efforts of the Prench air corps, so they'd see what they needed to see while standing well off.

"Mistress Ambertail, I would be obliged if you would bank your coals and have your sections stand down, for the nonce, but keep the works up and gear on deck. And leave the marksponies aloft, poor fellows. Splatterhoof!" he cried out to his servant as the lieutenant acknowledged and started to implement her orders, "I would thank you to ready a dispatch." The small earth pony bowed his head and galloped for the Captain's cabin to gather the writing desk and a dispatch case. "Major, be good enough to pick your fastest flyer and have him or her report here smartly, then withdraw your patrol. No point in tipping our hoof." The aerialist bounded into the air and sped upward.

The Captain sighed, thinking about his orders, and the frégates he had been told were being built in Sainte-Marie-du-Mount. Observe, do not provoke, but be ready for treachery. He puffed his pipe grimly. Damn all Prench bastards! Splatterhoof arrived with the small writing desk and the Captain unlocked it and took a small book from it, to which he periodically referred as he scribbled numbers and letters onto a thick piece of paper. He folded it and handed it to his servant to seal with wax and a ribbon, then took put it into an oilskin, wrapped it again, and finally placed it into the case. He also took a few lead weights from the desk and placed them in, before closing the case with a small padlock. He gave it to the aerial rating who was standing at attention and nodded to him. "This is for the Admiralty. The mail vessel Greenway will be at station in the North Drake Channel, about 100 miles to the west. Top speed; they'll pass the message back to the Celestial Sea fleet and then the the Admiralty in Baltimare. Ask the Captain of the Greenway to be so kind as to send me two messengers, then you wait for the Admiralty's reply. It's four hours each way; you're an hour to the Greenway, so I'll expect you back in eight hours. All haste, good fellow, and be safe."

As the pegasus launched himself from the deck and vanished into the gloom in the west, Ambertail marveled at the efficiency of the messaging system. Dispatches from Baltimare to the Prench coast in four hours? It's amazing! The Greenway would provide their two standby messengers as the third went to the Celestial Sea Fleet, which would send four messengers to support two-way operations. We should be able to keep up a rate of one dispatch an hour for eight hours before these messengers are blown, then we should have fresh ones from the Admiralty.

A tense half hour passed with the officers gathered at the rail, cursing the mist and the Prench and their situation under their breath while the Captain requested that coffee and biscuit be brought up. A cry was heard and they were able to see a pegasus above them, dressed in a dark blue uniform with red facings. He or she turned and raced back to the mysterious and still misted ship to the north and a sigh was heard from the decks. "Belay that noise!" snarled Mr. Gray and the muttering subsided.

Within a few minutes, the figure returned and performed a circuit around the ship, periodically dipping the wings inboard. Requesting permission to land. So it's still peace then. Ambertail felt some of the tension leave her as Captain Scuppernong waved the Prenchie in to land on the quarterdeck. The pegasus did so, and she turned out to be a fit, attractive, long-limbed, cream-colored mare with a wavy brown mane, which went well with her revolutionary uniform.

She came to attention and bowed to the Captain. "Monsieur Le Capitiaine," she said in lightly accented Equestrian, "I am Lieutenant Crème Fraîche, of the ship of the République Le Magicienne, and I bear greetings and messages," her pronunciation with a soft g rendering it as "massages" to the private mirth of Ambertail, "from my Capitaine Henri du Gaspony." The Duke's son! Ambertail's eyebrows rose involuntarily. It looks like some members of the nobility have made their peace with the Republic! "He sends his regrette that he cannot receive you and your officers to luncheon, but his orders are to return to port upon making contact with the ship of Equestria."

"Captain Scuppernong, of Her Highness' Ship Aurora. These are my ship's officers, Lieutenant Gray and Lieutenant Ambertail, and our Wing Commander, Major Windshriek." The officers bowed in sequence and Crème Fraîche bowed in return.

"A pleasure most genuine it is, to make your acquaintances. A grand misfortune that I must return to Le Magicienne most immediate. Capitaine Scoopernoog? Pardonez my tongue, that is a 'ard one, eh?" The assembled officers chuckled goodnaturedly. "If you would be so kind, Monsieur, to read the message, I would bear your reply to mon Capitaine most rapidly."

Scuppernong nodded and broke the seal on the note, then unfolded the paper. He read through the flowery introductions, then his eyes widened and he lost some color. He cleared his throat and continued, nodding, then set his mouth in a grim line. "I take it you are not party to this missive, Lieutenant?"

"No, Monsieur Le Capitaine, I am not. I hope it is not the bad news." Her face fell and she swallowed a lump in her throat.

"Well, young lady, it is not the good news. Rest assured, I will see to it that this is delivered to those who need to know. And I thank your Captain for his kindness in sending you to us, and for his graciousness, but I cannot thank him for the contents of that message." Scuppernong frowned and looked at the his officers, his voice dropping. "Our ambassador, Lady Starglow, has been killed by a rioting mob in the streets of Mareis." There was a gasp. "As there is now no diplomatic route by which to convey this news, we must inform Her Highness immediately. Furthermore, the Assembly has voted to extend their sea control limit from three miles to twelve." More than a gasp, this brought angry mutters from the officers. "Major, I cannot wait for a messenger to return; be so kind as to take this yourself to the Celestial Fleet and give them your verbal report."

"Aye aye, Captain!" Windshriek bounded up and launched herself to the west, the mists curling in vortices behind her.

The Captain glared at Crème Fraîche, then softened a bit, seeing her pallor. "Lieutenant, you have acquitted yourself well, and nopony here finds fault with you or your captain."

"Merci, Monsieur, but the Ambassador? Quel outrage! I can only offer my condolence most sincere and most inadequate." Anger did indeed cloud her eyes.

Scuppernong exhaled slowly. "I knew Starglow. She was a fine mare. An excellent harpsichordist. Quite wonderful. I had the pleasure of dancing with her several times. Charming, intelligent. What a damned waste." He head bowed and he sniffed. "Her husband, Lord Higharbor, will be most distraught." He looked up and saw a tear glimmering in the eye of the Prench mare. "Your damned revolution keeps stacking up the bodies, doesn't it?"

She blinked, rather shocked by the open display of grief and bitterness, nothing at all like she had seen from the Equestrian gentry before. "It is a tragedy, Monsieur. But the revolution is just. Mon père was a racer for the Count of Mane. He lost a race that the Count bet ten thousand livre upon. The Count accuse him of taking the bribe. He was arrested, and they pull out all his pinfeather until he make the confession. Then they leave him in the prison to rot and starve and die." Her eyes now burned with the memory.

She looked Scuppernong in the eye. "We do not 'ave the kind and wise and mighty Princess who does not grow old; we 'ave the King and the nobles who are greedy and foolish and cruel, who grow up under the King and the nobles also greedy and foolish and cruel. They treat other ponies as the toys to play with and break and discard."

She raised her head up proudly. "I am a daughter of the Revolution, loyal and true. I know the Equestria, I know your nobles. Mon père send me to study there, and I meet some of them, and it is not the same. They look on me, they see a real pony. The Count of Mare would look on me and see only a toy pony for the bedchamber, if he notice me at all." Venom dripped from her words, then she blinked and gained control of herself.

"Lass, I'm sorry for your father, I am." Scuppernong nodded sadly.

"Thank you Monsieur, and I am the sorry very much for Lady Starglow. But think, 'oo would benefit the most from a war with you? The République? Or the Royalistes and Louis' fat cousine?"

The Captain's eyes could have been chiseled from flint. "That would be speculation, Mistress Fraîche. Now, hurry and catch your ship before she vanishes, and my compliments to Captain du Gaspony."

"Thank you Monsieur," she rose up with a flap of milky wings. "But I 'ave no fear of losing Le Magicienne." She smiled, her teeth a brilliant white. "She is quite large." She nodded to the other officers then tore off to the north in pursuit of her captain, who must have come about during the conversation and was now on a tack back to his harbor.

The officers stood in a semicircle, the captain in the middle. He turned to address Gray. "Maintain course and speed, if you please, Mister Gray. There's nothing to be gained now; the Prench will be on guard and they may be of a mind to enforce their twelve mile limit with ground-based airwings. We've been given fair warning and we'll wait for new orders." Gray nodded and muttered in the affirmative, out of sorts from the news.

He rotated to Ambertail. "Mistress Ambertail, you may stand down the works and all, and fetch the bomb baskets down, but leave the marksponies up, just in case."

"Aye aye, Captain!" She walked down the ladder and bellowed orders to her sections, as a red-coated pegasus landed next to Scuppernong.

"Captain! Sergeant Cliffdiver, reporting! I saw the Major flying away with a case and figgered you might need 'er second on deck."

"You figgered right, my good fellow. Kindly reform the wing with lances and fly a defense patrol, then report every fifteen minutes."

The sergeant stamped and saluted with a wing, "Aye aye, Captain!" then was aloft, a scarlet streak bellowing orders.

Captain Scuppernong leaned against the aft rail and looked into the mists. Speculation, indeed.

Comments

[Asolem2]

The Count accuse him of taking the bribe. He was arrested, and they pull out all his pinfeather until he make the confession.

All I can think about when reading this line is "Torture someone enough, and they'll confess to anything"

[Asolem2]

The Captain's eyes could have been chiseled from flint. "That would be speculation, Mistress Fraîche. Now, hurry and catch your ship before she vanishes, and my compliments to Captain du Gaspony."

The answer is: "Whoever could get Equestria on their side"

[AmlpfanREADER]

Clementine? sounds like a game character