The Disappearance of Harissa Honeycomb

by Miller Minus

4 – These Wooden Walls

The castle doors rattled. The sound of bolts being withdrawn from inside could be heard. With a high-pitched whine, the doors swung outwards at a moderate pace.

I threw my head left and right, at my friends behind me, and finally back at the opening portal.

"Did you knock already?" Minerva asked.

"No," I assured her. I hadn't even considered it.

The stench of pure, concentrated pinewood emptied out into the mountain air with a silent wheeze, and I blinked away a pair of tears. The sun had just ducked under the mountains, so all I could see inside was a faint, yellow glint that flickered as the crack in the doorway grew. I leaned in to get a better look, and noticed far too late that the light was bouncing off a slender, dirty tooth. It flew towards me without warning, along with the rest of the teeth in the set, and the bullmastiff who owned them.

The first bark shook the ground beneath me.

"ACK!" I yelped, throwing my hooves over my face.

The sound of a chain being pulled taut spared me. I peeked out to see the grey, short-haired dog snarling and chomping, oblivious to the collar holding it up on its hind legs. Its bottom tooth jutted out from the rest, sitting overtop of its upper lip whenever its mouth was closed, like a weapon being flashed.

"Guh…Good boy," I managed.

"Charles!" a strained voice called from behind the beast. "That’ll do!"

The dog’s ears flipped down, and it eased back onto the ground—its entire body gradually giving up the attack, save for its eyes. It backed away into the castle, lit only by a single candle, and sat to the left of the pony that owned the voice, and the pony that owned that Celestia-sent chain.

Contact #2. Commander Fellsaw. His three-worded description was admirable, but given the scars he had all over his hooves, the gash across the bridge of his nose, and the unwashed mane sitting over his eyes that made him look like a sea monster eyeing me through greasy kelp, it maybe should have said 'Beware of Fellsaw' too.

He patted the hound on its head with one hoof and scratched its chin with the other.

"Good boy, indeed," he sneered.

The dog swept its tail to one side and left it there. As it scanned us left to right, it did a double take on Terrain and began to growl. Its master followed its gaze, and it looked like the growl might soon spread to him.

Terrain narrowed his accented eyes at the pair, and tilted his head less than ten degrees. The flickering candlelight burned brightly in his pupils.

And it was at this point that I decided to take a glance at the pony holding the candle. The last member of the welcome party.

I saw his colours, brown and blue, and my heartbeat tripled in an instant. It was already running fast from Fellsaw and Charles's unique welcome, but they were a budgie and a poodle next to this particular stallion: A groomed pegasus in a red robe lined with spotted-white fur, held together by a golden rope. And resting on his temples was a sparkling, yet modest crown made of wood and jewels.

My mouth hung open.

That was either the King of Freaking Pinery, or it was an awfully convincing impostor. And if it wasn't for the commander or his dog, I would be the closest living thing in the world to him.

I shut my mouth and swallowed firmly. There was no time to be in awe. It was my time to shine, or burn out trying.

It was time to do the talking.

"Forgive us for the surprise," the king spoke first (thank Celestia). "But my guards heard you behind the door and decided to alert me of your arrival." He chuckled and cast out his left wing, long and slim. "And it was the commander's idea to bring Charles, not mine," he claimed.

The king went silent, and when it was my turn to speak, I had a horrible epiphany.

I hadn't planned my greeting. With my missing bags hanging over my head like a ghost, I had been too distracted. Then again, even if I had prepared one, Charles would have barked it right out of me.

I dug in, gave the bejeweled figure and his colleague a quick bow, and got started.

"Yes."

No.

Was I serious? What kind of greeting was 'yes'? It left no way out! I had trapped myself with my first word!

"Hello!" I continued, getting it right the second time (when it no longer mattered). "Good tidings from Her Majesty, Princess Celestia!" I shouted.

Did ponies say 'good tidings'? Did they ever shout it?

I realized my hoof was weirdly extended in the air so I brought it down. I coughed to give myself time to think of what to say next, but I only spent that time wondering if it was obvious what I was doing.

"It’s a pleasure to have you," the king answered. The hound and its master stared at me with tinges of impatience and disbelief painted on their faces.

But the King wasn’t finished. "I am King Pinery II, and this is my most trusted guardspony, Commander Fellsaw."

The commander nodded to me. I nodded back. He cringed and shook his head. I looked away and shuddered out a breath.

Now I couldn’t even nod correctly.

"You've already met Charles," the king continued. "Don't worry about him… he’s all bark."

"…And no bite?" I hoped.

The king nodded a damn good nod. "Exactly. He prefers holding his victims down while someone else does the biting."

"...Oh."

"Someone like me," the commander declared. “Because I have to know… Why is the unicorn the only one without a sword?"

Oh, Celestia damnit. Not this question. Not this stupid, awful, dumb question. As if I didn’t have to answer to it enough back in Equestria.

"Yes, I was wondering that myself," the king agreed. "You haven’t dropped it, have you?"

"Uh…" I stammered. But then, in a moment of clarity, I realized that this question was way easier to answer in a foreign country. "Well, I… don’t have my sword license yet."

The commander scoffed. "You need a license to carry a sword in Equestria, do you?"

"Well… Of course," I explained. "You can't just let anypony walk around with such a dangerous weapon… They could hurt somepony, commander. Or… themselves, more likely."

The king liked my answer. I think. "My, such different customs we have," he noted. "Don't we, Fellsaw?"

"Pfah."

"Pardon me, Your Highness," Terrain interjected, strolling up beside me. Like when we were on the ledge, I relaxed a little. "But did you say your guardsponies heard us through the door?"

"Indeed I did."

"That’s interesting… We were standing a few paces away. And it’s not like we were yelling."

The king responded, "That doesn’t surprise me. These wooden walls have kept many things out over the decades that they've stood. Enemies, weapons, storms, are all no match for them… But they don't fare so well against sound. I think you'll find secrets are very hard to keep here."

Terrain scratched the space under his chin. "But not impossible, I'll bet."

"Nothing is impossible," the king said. "Surely that is one of Equestria's mottos?"

Terrain cracked a smile. "Probably."

The king smiled right back, but then again, he had been smiling the whole time since we arrived. His warmth was reminiscent of our own royal princess, but it was hindered by the cold stare of the old stallion accompanying him.

"Now, then," the king continued. "Um…"

Terrain nudged me in the shoulder. I rubbed it and gave him an inquisitive look. He gave me an even more inquisitive one.

"I didn’t quite catch your names…" the king said.

Oh, crap!

Names!

After he had introduced himself and Fellsaw, I was supposed to introduce us! Like, right away! How could I forget such an important part of the talking?

I smiled away the embarrassment and opened my mouth, but nothing came out. I bit my lip.

Should I do descending or ascending order?!

I looked to Terrain for help, but my question was really hard to communicate with just a facial expression. I just needed something to go on—just the first word!

Terrain sighed. "Forgive—"

That would work!

"Forgive me!" I cut in. "I've… been so rude. My name is, uh… Foghorn, and my partner next to me is Lieutenant Terrain."

The king hummed and peered over our heads to our third member, who took the chance to stride forward and brush her subordinates to either side.

"And… this is our Captain, Minerva," I finished, silently praying that ascending order was appropriate.

"Hey," she said.

"So, you’re the captain?" the king said with curiosity. "I suppose you are quite the delegator."

Minerva cocked her head, pinching her gaze on the regal pony. "I can't tell if that’s an insult or a compliment."

Terrain whispered something in her ear. She scrunched up her nose and searched behind the Pinery ponies.

"What ladder?" she simmered.

King Pinery brought his hoof to his chest and released a tremendous laugh that carried on for several seconds. It was the kind of laugh that made you want to join in, but you couldn't when it was shaking your stomach so hard. "So, the rumors are true! Equestria really does export comedy!" he celebrated. "This is great news… we could all use a laugh these days…"

The king's smile vanished, and he quietly sentenced the conversation to death. The only sound that remained was the commander’s hollow wheezing. That was, until Charles started to growl at the quiet between us.

"Ah, you're right, Charles!" the king blurted, "I have yet to invite them in!"

Fellsaw shook his head.

The king fluffed his cape and stepped back, extending his wings like he was about to embrace all three of us at once. He seemed to have room to do it, too. "Please… it looks better on the inside."

We had to take his word for it. As we entered the wooden fortress and the king shielded the candle from the wind entering with us, the only thing we could see was the first few planks, illuminated by what little moonlight fell in through the door. I took a survey of everything I couldn't see, and even let out an impressed sound, just to be polite.

The king bowed. "I hope your stay will be worthwhile… for all of us."

Minerva affirmed, "We'll make sure it is."

She saluted. Terrain followed and I mimicked them.

"That is good to hear, Captain Minerva," the king said, but his smile was still absent. "You know… You're awfully young for a Captain."

My ears twitched.

Did I hear that right? I listened to it again in my mind a couple times to be sure.

There was no doubting it. That was a challenge.

Just who did this guy think he was? Ruler of an entire country or not, that wasn't something you just said to Minerva the Brave.

"Be that as it may," I found myself saying, "the mare who stands before you is as accomplished as some more senior captains in our ranks aspire to be."

The king rotated his head. "Is that so?"

I puffed out my chest, making room for the words I was about to unleash. "Certainly, Your Highness. Speaking as a pony who has watched her grow from an academy freshmare into a fully fledged captain, I can assure you – nay, I can promise you – that her talents with weapon and guile are unmatched. And as her one-hundred percent mission record shows, she's not one anypony would want on their wrong side."

Now that was how you did the talking. So good it left everypony else unsure of what to say next. And definitely did not cause an awkward silence.

"High praise," the king eventually agreed. "But… I meant no offense. Your age and your rank say enough about you, Captain Minerva."

"Uh-huh," she concurred.

Nopony spoke for a few seconds. The closest anypony came was the commander, who released two emphatic coughs into his shoulder. I wondered if he was thinking about what to say next.

"Well!" King Pinery said, clapping his hooves together. "I trust you three are exhausted from the long journey. Would you like to take a tour of the castle now, or head straight to your bedding?"

"Tour," Terrain answered for us.

"Very good. Unfortunately, I will be taking the 'ladder' option." He chuckled to himself. "Commander?"

"Hm."

The king held out the half-burnt candle to his subordinate, who took it, but not right away.

"Please make sure your new guardsponies are acquainted with the castle. I will speak to them again in the morning."

With that, the king made his exit, swallowed by the darkness in an instant. A pair of double doors creaked at the other end of the foyer, and then creaked in reverse.

Fellsaw waited for the doors to latch together. "Unicorn."

I tried not to react like he had just thrown a rock at me. "Um… Yes, Commander?"

"Close the castle doors," he ordered. "Then follow me, all of you."

The scarred pegasus placed the candle dish on his dog’s flat head, and the bullmastiff didn’t even react. The two of them pivoted to their right and down a hallway that was three ponies wide—the flame staying remarkably still between the tall grey ears of Charles the Terror.

"Amiable chap, isn’t he?" Terrain commented, trotting after them.

I turned to take care of the doors, but in my way, I found Minerva. She squinted at me like I was a bruised apple at the grocery store.

My breath caught in my chest.

"What's, um… What's going on?" I asked with a stupid, toothy grin.

"Hey, Fog, can you do me a favour?" she asked.

"...Yeah, Cap—Uh—Captain?"

"Take a deeeeeep, deep breath through your nose, Fog. And then tell me what you smell."

"Um… Yeah, okay."

It was an odd request, sure, but it was an easy one. I liked easy requests.

I shut down all my senses but one, and inhaled as far as I could, wincing as the aromas of the castle blended together in my nose.

"I smell… dinner, I think. Or at least, leftovers… They had something cheesy. There's… a bit of paprika coming from…. Somewhere… and over top of everything… is… just… a lot of pine wood."

I opened my eyes again. Minerva was thoughtfully nodding. It looked like I’d done a good job.

"…Why do you ask?"

Minerva huffed out a happy huff. "Oh, just wondering what my ass smells like."

"…Wh—?"

Her hoof shot to my mane and she yanked my head in, pressing her nostrils against mine. Still grinning from ear to ear, she snorted like a bull and I breathed it in.

"Ready to get your nose out of there?"

She released me and I fell on my rump. "S-sorry…" I stuttered. "I thought…"

"Just a small note. Other than that, y'know…” She dusted off my shoulders and patted me on the back. “G'job!”

My captain twisted on her hooves, leapt into the air and flew down the hall after the rest of the tour. I wanted to follow, but she was so fast that the darkness took her immediately. I let out a harsh exhale and started to find my spot on the floor downright comfortable. I could use a few seconds alone anyways.

"There's another one for the screw-up list," I counted. Then I remembered the entire conversation I’d just had with the king. "Make that another ten…"

I searched for something easy to do. Something that I couldn’t possibly end up on my list. A gust of wind barrelled in through the entrance, nearly picking me back up onto my hooves.

"Right. The doors."

Without moving from my seat, I enveloped the towering wooden assemblies with my magic and pushed them shut. By doing so, I succeeded in stopping the wind from pouring inside.

As well as the damn moonlight.

I waved my hoof in front of my face, and saw nothing.

"That's fine. I like the darkness anyways..."

I thought about opening the doors again to get my bearings, but on the off chance somepony heard them rattle open and closed again and realized what had happened, I rejected that thought, electing to sigh instead. Twice.

"Nice going, Foghorn."

A third sigh.

Sighing was how I spent my few seconds alone, and I regretted it, because it really only was a few seconds. As the sounds of hoofsteps and flapping wings faded away to my right, they started right back up again on my left. Only this time they were lighter, and notably more frantic. Panting settled in with these two sounds, and the three of them grew louder in unison.

"What now…?"

And then it hit me. Straight in my side, in fact—bowling me over onto the rough, wooden floor. A wave of feathers brushed the back of my neck and a crashing of furniture erupted from beside me.

The high-pitched voice of a filly cracked through the darkness.

"Ah!"

"Ow!" I complained.

"What the—!" the filly’s voice cracked again. "Who's there?! And where is your candle?!" she berated, and I realized that the cracking I was hearing was the filly's actual voice.

"Where’s yours?!" I shouted back, a little surprised by how angry I came off.

"Okay, sorry, wow!"

The voice sounded hurt, and I felt instantly awful. I needed to keep myself in check.

There was a tapping on the wooden planks, and I was prodded by an outstretched hoof, feeling its way through the darkness and finding my shoulder. It rested there for a moment, and then starting tapping me with increasing speed and vigor.

"Hey, you!"

"Hey, me?"

"Are the um, the um, the um, the uhhhhhhhh, the Equestrians here yet?" the filly inquired.

I tried to retreat from the assault, but she was determined to keep striking me.

"Would you… stop?!"

Miraculously, the filly followed my order, feeling around my chest instead of hitting it.

"Our armor isn't… leather… Oh, shallots!"

The hidden hoof dug underneath my elbow, and the next thing I knew I was being dragged in what I was pretty sure was the opposite direction my friends went.

"Where are you...?" I began to protest, but I trailed off.

I was done fighting this stupid day.

We came to a stop, and the filly let go.

"Stand here!"

Her wings flapped (one of them hit me again), and in the next moment there was a whine of rusted hinges, and a burst of pale, white light enveloped me from above. I shielded my eyes from the moon, shining in from an open window, and rotated in the dimly lit hallway, searching for the filly.

"Whoa!" she cried from above me.

With a powerful thrust, she threw her wings up and slammed her hooves on the ground in front of me. She stuck her nose right up against the chevrons across my chest, and I'll admit it, my cheeks started to burn up a little. Because my attacker wasn’t a filly at all, but a fully grown mare with a voice that betrayed her age. Her body and mane were a solid shade of orange, except for the brown highlights in her short hair and the smattering of white freckles across her nose.

"Whoooooaaaaa!" she repeated, stepping around to view the half-sun on my shoulder.

"Um."

Her wonder faded. She threw her hooves over her mouth and squeaked. "I'm so sorry for yelling at you, sir!"

Sir.

"That's alright," I answered. "I yelled a little, too… Uh…"

"Oh, names, right, sorry!" Her hoof shot forward and she put all of her teeth on display. "Prika!"

"That's okay," I assured her. "I should be the one introducing myself."

Did that sound conceited?

I shook my head clear. Or at least I tried. "…I’m Foghorn."

"Which Foghorn? Lieutenant? Captain? General? Admir—?"

"“It's—! Just… Foghorn."

The strange mare barely nodded, and her attention went right back to my armor. She tilted her head to get another angle.

"Whoa…"

A rush of pride energized my muscles, and I realized that this wasn’t just strange. This mare was a stranger. And strangers were the perfect opportunity for practicing the talking.

I needed all the practice I got before I met Contact #3. That was, if I ever met Contact #3. I very well might have missed her during the mission, and that would be okay with me.

But, practice! Practice was good.

I started by saluting to her, for some reason.

"Whoa!" she responded.

I put on my most rehearsed ‘noble’ voice and said, "It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Mare."

Who in Equestria was Ms. Mare?

She put on a frown that was almost sarcastic, and mirrored my salute. "As I, you, Mr. Stallion!" she said in a deeper, but still cracking voice.

And that’s when the silence started. Ten whole seconds, we stared at each other, hooves raised to our foreheads like a couple of statues. She developed a smile that grew and grew in the silence, as she found something particularly funny about my inability to speak like a normal pony.

Small talk!

I asked, "Um… What do you do around… these parts?"

These parts.

What was I, from Appleloosa?

She guffawed at my question, and she had every right. "What, you can’t tell?" she said. She pinched the space above her head with her hooves and winked.

The entire gesture was strange.

"I… really can't…. Ma'am."

Her hooves came together with a clap. "Oh." She looked over her shoulder, perhaps in the direction we'd come. “I… flew too fast again," she lamented. "Oops. Hey, pretend there's a chef’s hat on my head, okay?"

"So, you’re a chef?"

"Nope."

"N—…No?"

"I'm the sub-chef! Normally I’m the sous-chef. For Harissa! But…"

There was that vanishing smile trick again. Her eyes fell down so far I thought she might fall asleep where she stood.

I reached a hoof out to her, but realized I had no idea where to put it and brought it back in. "My apologies," I settled for instead.

The sous-chef woke up and hovered in the air defiantly. "No need! I'm only filling her shoes till she gets back!" she cheered. "So, hey, did you… come alone?"

"No… I'm with my Captain and Lieutenant. We were going to take a tour with the commander."

Prika blinked, and she did a full turn in the air. "…Whereabouts?"

"…I don't know."

"Oh."

Either awkward silences were following me around, or I was the problem. But what was I supposed to do? There's not always something to say.

"Ohhhhhhh." Prika put her hoof on my shoulder. A lot gentler this time. "It's so dark in here that you lost 'em, right?"

"Something like that. I guess."

"Yeah, I hear you. We actually used to have torches? Buuuuuut, they give off a lot more smoke than light, so we threw 'em all out and started using candles. Here! I'll help you find your friends, Mr. Stallion."

She landed – a lot lighter this time – and held up her foreleg like I should take it.

I gave her a funny look. A look to which she was oblivious. Or maybe she just couldn't see it.

"…Okay, Ms. Mare."

Comments

[SevenBubbles1000]

Ha! It's so awkward and I love it!